She turns and hollers over her shoulder. “Jacob?”
The bathroom door opens, and a cloud of fog follows. A towel hangs low around his waist; water drips down his washboard abs while he dries his hair with another.
“Is that the tattoo he wears in the show?” I whisper.
Samantha replies, “Yup.”
He inches closer.
“Jacob, say hello to Serenity. She’s getting married to Nico Pitucco today.”
He smiles wide. “Hello Serenity. Congratulations on your big day.”
His voice is deep and silky.
“Thank-thank you,” I stutter.
“Now that you’re joining the crew, I’m sure we’ll meet in person real soon,” he affirms.
I’m smiling so hard my face feels like it’s going to break.
“I look forward to meeting you. Meeting you both in person,” I add.
“Laughter kicks up around the room.”
“Girl, there’s a few wives in this room who have it bad for Jacob Latters,” Ryah confirms.
Samantha chuckles again. “I’m used to women looking at Jacob like he’s their first crush. As long as I’m the light in his eyes, I don’t care.” She winks at him.
“You’re it for me, baby. You know that.” He plants a kiss on her forehead before stepping away.
“Oh, I’m also the first assassin wife,” Samantha mentions.
My brows tug together. “Assassin wives?”
Samantha gives a rundown on the assassin wives.
These women are so fucking powerful.
“You can call on us for anything,” Samantha says.
“That’s right,” Sierra adds.
“We’re a family.” Sierra gives a warm smile.
I’d been on my own for so long I don’t know how to accept true sisterhood. I’d always ran in a small circle outside of the mafia. I was fortunate to meet Baylor. She was my only mafia friend until now.
“It’s mimosa time,” Ryah yells as Esmerelda walks in with water and tea.
I ask Esmerelda to bring two bottles of champagne and champagne flutes.
Ten minutes later, we’re standing in a circle holding our glasses filled with bubbly high. Baylor and Kinsley hold flutes filled with orange juice in the air.
“To Serenity on her big day. Next week she will become a Donna for the Pitucco family. She and Kinsley will tell the made men wives where they can stick it,” Emoni offers.
Laughter bubbles from each woman in the room. I grip my stomach, laughing. I remember my mother having to listen to the wives. At the end of every meeting, she walked out of the room, rolling her eyes. She hadn’t done her Donna duties in years. Specifically after losing my baby sister.
“To Donna duties,” I yell.
