Marrying the Mob Prince

Evie

I’m grateful that roses have thorns.

Where was Tony?

What was he doing?

Hours ticked by with nothing from him. I sat in the living room, an afghan draping my lap. The doctor had already examined me and left. Tony’s mother never picked up the phone, so I was alone. My only light blazed from my phone, which I checked compulsively.

Dad: Are you okay?

Dad: Talk to me.

Me: I’m fine.

I couldn’t stand exchanging another sentence with my father. He’d let me down so badly. I couldn’t breathe without pain stabbing my ribs. I wrapped myself in blankets, as though the vivid images would disappear with enough heat. My mind buzzed as I pieced together my arrival into the hotel and the girls on stage.

I’d seen wild things at patchover parties. Public sex didn’t offend me, but it was different with vacant-eyed women and the men with zero regard for them.

My eyes fought to stay open but sleep was out of the question. So was tearing my gaze from the door. He had to come back. Tony had the answers. Minutes…hours passed as the golf ball in my throat swelled.

The elevator pinged.

I scrambled from the sofa.

The doors opened. My disheveled husband stepped inside, carrying a takeout bag and a drink caddy. He tossed his keys and strode into the kitchen, setting everything on the counter. Tony’s button-up was rather wrinkled and his expression pinched, but he seemed all right.

Thank God.

My body sagged, and the fatigue slammed into me at last. I dropped onto the tiles. Tony stooped, gripping my upper arms.

“What’s wrong? Didn’t you sleep?”

“I couldn’t until you got home.”

Tony’s brows furrowed, as though he couldn’t imagine why I’d sacrifice my health for him. “Jesus, you must be dead on your feet. Let’s get some food in you.”

Orange light shot through the grim Boston cityscape as Tony led me into the living room with the wall-to-wall windows. He sank onto the couch, dragging me beside him.

“Want some?”

He offered me a pastry, but I sprawled over the cushions and put my head in his lap. A mistake, because the position reminded me of what happened shortly after being drugged.

I fisted his slacks and fought against the urge to cry out. He stroked my hair. Then he broke off a piece of croissant and held it to my lips.

“Eat. You’ll feel better.”

“No.” I nuzzled his thighs and kissed him. “Only this helps.”

The hand on my hip squeezed, and he let out a tense breath. His touch set off lightning strikes under my skin, even if he touched me with bread.

“Eat, baby.”

I obeyed, the butter exploding over my tongue.

“Is this a thing now?” I murmured, adjusting myself on his leg. “I never imagined you’d have a feeding fetish.”

“Not my kink.”

“And yet I feel hardness under my cheek. Way to turn a sweet Hallmark moment into a something naughty.” I turned, facing him. “What would your mother say?”

His full mouth tugged into a bemused grin. “She’s Italian.”

“You keep throwing that out like it makes sense to anybody but you.”

“Family is important in our culture.” He said it pointedly, sending a ripple of heat through my chest. “Mom is always in my corner, no matter what. So if you cry to her about me, she’ll blame you for not servicing your husband. She’ll say I have a man’s needs and you should do your duty.”

Somehow, I doubted that. “I think your mom is happier with me than with you.”

“She did threaten to disown me, so you may be right.”

“What for?”

“Being an asshole to my wife.”

His palm cradled my cheek, the shock of him behaving this way running through my body. The touch upset my balance even though I lay still. He stroked me, temple to the back of my head.

“Tony, why are you doing this?”

“I like taking care of you, and there’s not much I enjoy anymore.”

He kissed my temple lightly.

The imprint of his lips and his bewitching smile warmed me, and then he scratched his nose. Blood smeared his shirt in a long gash.

Holy shit.

I struggled upright, seizing Tony’s arm.

“Broken glass. Nothing to worry about.”

“Did you kill anyone?”

He shrugged. “Not that I’m aware of.”

Ice twisted my stomach. “Where were you?”

“Running errands. No biggie.”

“Tony, I am not an idiot,” I burst, pushing from his lap. “Please don’t lie to me.”

“I went to see your dad. We had a disagreement.”

“You mean fight.”

“He’s in one piece, hon. Swear to God. Call him if you don’t believe me.”

These days, Tony had more of my trust. My pulse raced. If I hadn’t married Tony, where would I be? Who would I be forced to service after being sold into slavery?

I glanced at Tony. “I don’t feel like talking to him.”NôvelDrama.Org © 2024.

“I don’t blame you.”

He followed as I stormed into the bathroom, slamming cupboards and drawers until I discovered a first-aid kit.

Then I ripped his sleeve to the elbow. As a president’s daughter in the club, you saw a lot of injuries. Fixing them wasn’t my forte, but I preferred it to him bleeding everywhere.

Tony sat on the closed toilet, quietly enduring it. He held out his arm when I asked. He let me dab on antiseptics. Bandage. I had the feeling his cooperation was directly related to my close shave.

“Thank you.”

He pressed his hot mouth into my cheek, lingering for a moment too long which urged me to catch his tempting pout. Tony took me to bed. He peeled the sheets and slid inside, his head hitting the pillow beside mine. He gripped my hand, brushing the spot where my wedding band used to be.

“K stole it,” I said bitterly. “I was drugged. I couldn’t stop him.”

“I’ll replace it.”

He sounded wooden, but his tawny eyes sparked with fury.

“It won’t be the one you picked for me.” My chest tightened with the knowledge I’d never get it back. “I planned to make some changes to the band, but now I’ll never…why does that piss me off so much?”

He went silent for a while, his distant stare echoing his hollow voice. “This never should’ve happened to you. I’m sorry.”

The shadows darkening his features seemed to grow, and I felt along his stubbled jaw. His beard had thickened and sweat streaked his hair, and I wondered when the last time he’d taken care of himself was.

Tony leaned into my palm and grabbed my hip, gently stroking. “Anything he did…it doesn’t change the way I feel about you.”

I looked up, and my heart lurched madly.

He kissed my hand.

Warmth burst across my cheeks. “I’m so sorry you’re caught in the middle…Dad didn’t mean for me to get kidnapped. I’ve done this before and never-safety has never been a problem.”

His eyes bored into me.

His gaze reminded me of being wrapped in his arms and fucked. Losing my virginity had been the most intense experience of my life. My body still ached where he’d filled me, and suddenly it pulsed with a yearning. He channeled so much sexual energy and it was beyond me to resist.

“Your father sucks at being a criminal, Evie. He launders money through your business but does it poorly. I don’t think you’re aware of how badly he’s screwed you. If you ever got investigated, Evie…you can say goodbye to all your dreams because once the world associates Evie with the shit your dad is doing, you’ll be canceled. You’ll never be able to sell a bracelet.” Tony pushed himself to a seated position. “He steals from you, he messes up your financials, he makes you do appraisals with violent men. He doesn’t bring enough backup, giving slime like K a golden opportunity to rob him blind. So the fact that he didn’t mean it? Who the fuck cares? He treats you like trash.”

I shook my head, tears blinding my vision.

“I know he’s bad. He does awful things, but he’s been there since I was a baby.” I wiped my face, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. “He cried with me when Mom walked out on us.”

I used to stare at the doorway and imagine her strolling through, wrapping me in her lilac-scented arms. In my mind, there was a perfect explanation for why she’d gone, but a universal truth steered me toward a less sunny conclusion-people let me down.

Repeatedly.

Tony’s palm fell on my shoulder. “What happened to your mom?”

I shrugged. “She took off.”

“Just like that?”

“I woke up. She was gone.” I inhaled deeply and adjusted my smile. “At least I had her for twenty years.”

Tony raked his espresso waves and stared at me. “Did anyone file a missing persons report?”

“She’s not missing, Tony. She always talked about leaving the MC. I thought she’d take me with her, but she was telling me what I wanted to hear. She abandoned me. My dad didn’t but he hurts me, too. I love them but I can’t rely on them, so I go inward for strength. Everybody has to look after themselves. People will let you down.”

The hand caressing my back paused.

“Huh. I don’t agree with that at all.”

I blinked. “You don’t?”

Tony shook his head, resuming his restless stroking. His hold glided to my shoulder. He pulled me until my head nestled in the crook of his neck.

“I’ll die before I let you down.”