So, I like to take advantage of these rare moments alone as much as I can.
“How are you feeling today?” I say as I cross the room and kneel beside her chair.
She gives me a small smile, though I can tell she’s trying to downplay her fatigue. “Better,” she says softly, her fingers reaching to tangle themselves in mine.
I nod, stroking her hand with my thumb. “You’ve been amazing, Mia. You deserve to be better.”
She laughs lightly. “That’s your way of telling me to rest more, isn’t it?”
“Always,” I admit, smiling. “But that’s not why I’m here.”
Her eyebrow quirks up, and she closes her book. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing bad,” I say to soothe the worry on her face. “In fact, this will all be over soon. We have Rubio cornered now; his people are off the streets.”
“Why am I hearing abut?”
“Actually, you’re hearing amoreover,” I tease back. “We would like to send out a message of power. And what better way to demonstrate the successful union of the Italian Mafia than through a monument to our collective strengths?”
Mia blinks at me as her brain catches up. “You want to open the casino.”
“I want to openyourcasino.” I lift her hand to my lips and kiss it softly. “Will you be my date to the opening?”
Her lips part slightly, surprise flickering across her face before she smiles—a genuine, radiant smile that feels like sunlight after a storm.
“I’d like that,” she says.
When the car pulls to a stop outside the Prince’s Hand casino, I’m out first, extending my hand to her like some lovesick schoolboy.
She takes it, and when she steps out, the sight of her in the glow of the casino’s grand entrance leaves me momentarily speechless.
She’s breathtaking in a deep emerald dress—the soft, fitted fabric that skimming her body and shimmering under every flicker of light. Her fiery hair cascades over her shoulders in a shining wave.
I can’t take my eyes off her. I can’t keep myhandsoff her.
A tug on her waist, my lips pressed to her temple. I can’t stop touching her. “You’re stunning.”
Her cheeks flush, and she pulls away, but the corner of her mouth quirks into a small smile. “I’m postpartum. You have to say that. Otherwise, I’m legally required to murder you.”
“No,” I say, guiding her hand to my arm as we make our way up the steps. “It’s you. You’ve always looked stunning to me. But in that dress…you’ve left me no chance of focusing on anything else tonight.”
She doesn’t respond, but her blush deepens, and it gives me hope—a flicker of a promise of something more.
But all thoughts leave the second we step through the front doors.
Inside, the casino is alive.
We enter the main floor, the sounds of shuffling chips, laughter, and clinking glasses spilling over us. It’s dazzling and opulent. Painstaking attention to detail is realized in every sanded edge, warmly lit corner, and seamless transition of space.
Mia hesitates, her fingers tightening on my arm as she takes it all in.
“Perfect, isn’t it?” I ask, leaning close enough that my voice is just for her.
“It’s beautiful.”
I can’t resist another kiss to her temple. “I wouldn’t go that far. Not with you standing right here.”
She hits me playfully on the shoulder as someone approaches. Her sharp heels click against the polished floors.
