After biting Theresa’s fingers, ensuring she feels the sting of my teeth, I spank her ass before guiding her out the door she entered only minutes ago. “Wear something sexy. You never know who may end up seeing you in your little number tonight.”Fingers crossed, it’s a coroner.
She yelps about my spank, purrs like a kitty at my comment, then saunters down the corridor with her hips sashaying back and forth.
I’ve barely scrubbed the horrid taste of her skin from my mouth when a faint voice trickles into the room from the other side. “Was that Theresa?”
Since Audrey is still weak, she more leans on the doorjamb for support than in the casual I-want-to-beat-your-face-in stance Rocco used it for earlier today. Her folded arms, though, they’re new.
Perhaps she does have more of a backbone than believed.
I scrub the back of my hand over my mouth for the third time before answering, “Yes, it was. I invited her here to discuss business.” That was the exact line I gave her when she walked in on Theresa and me fooling around in my office weeks into our ‘courtship.’
No longer smiling, Audrey enters my office. “Business?”
I jerk up my chin, my ability to lie not lost by the hope in my wife’s eyes that I will one day be an honorable man.
“Okay.” She takes another two frail steps. “Can you tell her I said hello?”
Hello?She wants me to pass on a friendly greeting to the woman she saw sucking my dick.
What the fuck?
Roxanne would kill Theresa just for the thought.
It would be an exchange I’d pay money to see.
After ensuring my smirk is hidden, I reply, “Perhaps you can tell her yourself. She will be at the function tonight.”
I don’t mean to be a prick. That’s a trait I only reserve for Roxanne these days. I am merely being optimistic that if I push Audrey as hard as I pushed Roxanne, she’ll gain half her gall. Then maybe she’ll have enough valor to see our daughter graduate middle school.
It seems to work when Audrey mutters out snappily, “I would have to be invited first.”
“You’re invited,” I respond like it was always my plan to have her in attendance. “I’ll have Smith forward you another invitation since yours got lost.”
The event is invitation only. If you don’t have one, you won’t make it past my security personnel. I did that not only to ensure Roxanne wasn’t in the same room as the many women I’ve fucked, but so I could concentrate on anything but her and Fien for a couple of hours.
My businesses ran like oil through an engine while searching for Fien, but now that she’s home, everything has gone to shit. My Arabian event for this month was rescheduled, a massive drug shipment is stuck in customs in Africa since my bribe was a day late, and even with Petrettis Restaurant being raided only last month, it was hit again two days ago. It is as if the universe saw I was getting slack, so they hit me with back-to-back losses to ensure I know no matter how weary I am, the Cartel never sleeps.
After tossing back a second whiskey, I place the glass down, then spin to face Audrey. “I’m about to see Fien. You can join me if you like.” I don’t know why I made my demand sound like it was an offer when it wasn’t.
Fien has warmed to me greatly the past three days, but it would be a smoother transition if our exchanges weren’t occurring with two strangers in the room with her. It’s always India and me instead of Audrey and me.
Even though India drives me bat-shit crazy, I can admit her assistance this week has been a godsend. Fien has taken a real liking to her, and since India involves me in Fien’s day-to-day activities, that fondness is slowly being transitioned to me. But, once again, I believe that would be an easier process if Audrey would step up to the plate to parent our child as she deserves.
“Fien is about to have dinner. I’m certain Rosa made enough for everyone.”
My clutch around Audrey’s waist could be classified as cruel, considering she underwent surgery only five days ago, but it makes the dismissive shake of her head less obvious.
“Here he is. Dada has arrived to eat spaghetti.” India’s head pops up from the clips of Fien’s highchair to the entrance of the kitchen, her eyelids fluttering when she spots Audrey tucked into my side. “And he brought Mommy with him. Aren’t you a lucky girl?”
I’m a hard-ass gangster in every meaning of the word, but I’d also be a lying prick if I said Fien’s giggles didn’t do weird things to my chest. Even with them being produced from India tickling her tummy, they’re still such a rarity, I drink in every one of them as if she released them solely for me.
The scent of someone in love with their perfume smacks into me when Audrey arrives at my side of the kitchen. Her eyes are on me, but her words are for Audrey. “How are you feeling? I’m a little concerned you are already up and about.”
While India guides Audrey to the other side of the garlic-and-tomato-scented space to discuss her worries in-depth, I slot onto the dining chair directly next to Fien’s highchair. “What have you got there? Spaghetti. Yum.” When I rub my stomach, she peers at me like I’m an idiot. Today, it doesn’t make me want to go on a murderous rampage. “Can I have some?”
She watches me with a slanted head and a twinkle in her eyes for a couple of seconds before she digs her hand into a bowl of mucky redness, then slams her grubby hand into my face.
I’m not the only one laughing about the mess coating my lips. The faintest chuckle sounds through the door I forced Audrey through only moments ago.
