Devils bride a dark mafi.., p.32
Devil's Bride: A Dark Mafia Romance, page 32
“Leave it. His death will send a message.”
“What now?”
My thoughts drifted to the night ahead. “Now, home to the wife to celebrate our success.”
“Take her flowers.”
I laughed. Perhaps it had come to that, but I had to admit I was a content man.
There was no driver, only one SUV following me from the Turkish territory. At this point, our reputation as a powerful regime would prevent anyone from attacking us. Did I think Fassi would show his face again? Absolutely, but not for some time.
Maybe I’d be allowed to enjoy my life.
The drive was actually peaceful, the traffic lighter than usual, and I made it home in record time.
With her father’s estate currently under renovation, we’d taken up residence in my home. The thought of having teenagers in the house had initially horrified me, but I’d come to enjoy their company.
When Marco wasn’t sullen.
At least he was considering college.
When I passed the flower shop, I slowed. What the hell?
Fifteen minutes later, I pulled up at the estate. Coming home had never felt so satisfying.
After parking and climbing out, I took my time walking to the door. Right now, I felt as if I finally had that time to enjoy.
At least until the next crisis occurred.
Once inside, I gathered a whiff of garlic and onions. And something that reminded me of… a dead body? Well, shit. What was she making for dinner?
“Don’t,” Marco said as he passed, heading toward his room.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t try it. I’m just warning you.” He shook his head and burped. “We need to go out to dinner.”
Laughing, I took long strides into the kitchen, shocked at what I saw. Pots and dishes were everywhere, on every surface in the room. Steam was rising from a pot, something boiling over, yet my lovely bride was nowhere to be seen.
To try to keep the kitchen from catching on fire, I turned off both burners, glaring down at the goop inside the pot. It was red, almost like Italian spaghetti sauce burned around the edges.
When I heard a sound, I almost reached for my weapon until I realized it was a sob. A horrible racking sob coming from the other side of the island.
After placing the roses on likely the only clean spot on the counter, I moved slowly toward the sound, finding Genevieve sitting on her butt with her knees bent against her chest.
Her head in her hands.
Her hair was in a ponytail, yet strands were pulled out around her face and sweaty.
I crouched down next to her, leaning my back against the island in the same position.
“I can’t do it,” she said thirty seconds later.
“You can’t do what?”
“Cook!” She snapped her head in my direction. “I tried. I can’t cook a goddamn thing. I’m a failure.” She jerked up and so did I.
“Hey. I knew that, but you know what? You’re damn good at shooting weapons. And knife throwing. Wow. You’re the best at that.” I took her into my arms, cupping her chin as I forced her to look at me. “And wrestling a two-hundred-pound man to the ground. Remember? You’re made to get into the MMA ring at my club.”
She sniffled and nodded as if debating. “Yes, I am. You’re right. You need to take me there.”
Fat chance in hell. I’d be afraid she’d beat every contestant. Hmmm… Maybe not a bad thing.
“See? You’re brilliant and beautiful,” I told her.
“What else?”
“Donuts. You’re the master at eating donuts. I’m impressed.”
Genevieve groaned. “That’s the problem.”
“Why a problem?”
“The reason I’m in this condition in the first goddamn place. If you hadn’t taken me to that incredible store in Madrid, none of this would have happened.”
“What are we talking about here?” I brushed tears from her eyes. She looked so damn beautiful when she cried.
Which was entirely too rare.
She pulled away and shook her head. “And I blame you.”
“For what?”
“If you weren’t so damn good at making love, I wouldn’t have fallen hard for you and this wouldn’t have happened.”
“What is this?” My tone was much more demanding.
“This!” She pointed at her stomach.
“I don’t understand.”
“Do I need to explain the birds and bees to you?” She took my hand, placing it on her stomach.
“Um…” I thought about what she was saying and felt my eyes opening wide. “You’re…”
“Yep. I know it’s the last thing in the world you wanted, but…”
“Baby.” I cupped her face again. “That makes me so happy.” And it did. I’d never wanted a child, an heir to take my place. I’d never thought about becoming a father, but with her, I could envision a huge family.
“But you don’t love me. This is a contract. Remember?”
“Can I tell you something?”
“What?” She was almost shouting.
“I do love you. The contract is null and void. Your fault, remember? If either party should fall in love with the other, the contract can be terminated.”
She wrinkled her pretty little nose and hissed. “Damn you for reading the fine print.”
“Someone taught me to be a businessman. Someone I happen to admire and cherish. And need to ravage.”
When I pushed her toward the table, she pressed both hands against my chest.
“Ah, shit. Not good for the baby?”
“No, silly. There are dishes on the table.”
Snorting, I raked my arm across the table, sending dishes and utensils flying across the room. “Now there aren’t. Just remember, I will take anything I want.” After gingerly easing her onto the table, I placed both hands on either side of her.
This time when I captured her mouth, I felt a sense of true belonging.
Life was a crapshoot. Bloody. Violent.
And messy.
But every once in a while, it could be filled with something else.
Family.
Friends.
And love.
Who the fuck knew a man like me could find a badass woman to capture my heart?
The End
AFTERWORD
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