Page 111 of Sinful Bride

Elena takes a breath, and I watch her shoulders straighten as she steels herself. "Let's go."

We walk through the house together. The portraits on the walls seem to watch us as we pass, generations of Capetti men staring down with expressions that range from stern to cruel. Elena doesn't look at them. She keeps her eyes forward, her chin up, moving through her childhood home like she's walking through a graveyard. When we reach the office, she hesitates for just a moment before pushing open the heavy wooden door.

The room is exactly as it was before. Enzo's desk dominates the space. The bookshelves are lined with leather-bound volumes that I doubt he ever read, and the walls are decorated with expensive art. Elena walks to the center of the room and stops, looking around with an expression I can't quite read. "I hate this room now," she says quietly. "He sat behind that desk and told me I was nothing more than a tool to be used. That my only value was in who I could be married off to, and what he could do with that."

I lean back against the desk. “So maybe we make it into something different. I've been thinking about what to do with the Capetti territories, and the businesses your father managed.”

Elena nods slowly, her expression guarded. "And?"

"My organization is going to absorb all of it. The Irish and the Capettis will operate as one entity moving forward, with me at the head." I pause, watching her reaction. "But I don't want to run it the way your father did. I don't want to centralize all the power in one person, make every decision myself."

"What do you want?"

I reach out and take both of her hands in mine, holding them firmly. "I want you to manage it. The Capetti branch, all the territories, all the businesses, all the people who used to answer to your father. I want you to oversee it, make the decisions, handle the operations. It'll be your responsibility. Your authority."

The words hang in the air between us, and I watch as understanding dawns in her eyes. She stares at me, her lips parted slightly, her breath coming faster. "Declan⁠—"

"You know this world better than I do," I continue, laying out the vision that's been forming in my mind all week. "You grew up in it. You understand the politics, the alliances, the way these families think and operate. And you're smart, Elena. Smarter than your father ever gave you credit for. You see things I miss. You understand nuances I'm still learning."

"But the capos—" she starts, and I can hear the doubt creeping into her voice. "They're not going to accept a woman in a leadership position. Especially not me. They'll see it as weakness⁠—"

"Let them see it however they want." I pull her closer until she's standing between my legs. I can feel the heat of her body against mine. "This is how I'm choosing to run things." I cup her face in my hands, forcing her to meet my eyes. "I trust you, Elena. I trust your judgment, your intelligence, and your ability to lead. And anyone who has a problem with that can take it up with me directly."

I can see tears gathering in her eyes. "You're giving me real power," she whispers. "Not just a title. Not just a role as your wife or the mother of your children. You're giving me actual authority."

"Yes." I brush my thumb across her cheekbone, catching a tear before it can fall. "Because you deserve it. And I love you, and I want us to build this together."

For a long moment, she just stares at me, her eyes searching my face like she's trying to make sure this is real. Then she surges forward and kisses me, her hands fisting in my shirt as she presses herself against me.

I kiss her back with everything I have. My hands slide down to her waist, gripping her hips and pulling her even closer, and I feel her gasp against my mouth as she realizes how hard I am already, how much I want her.

"Declan," she breathes when we finally break apart, her forehead resting against mine. "I don't know what to say."

"Say yes." I slide my hands up her sides, feeling the curve of her waist through the fabric of her dress. "Say you'll do it. Say you'll be my partner in this."

"Yes. Yes, I'll do it. I'll manage the Capetti territories, and I'll make you proud." She looks at me, a smile on her lips, and I feel myself throb. I’m desperate for her, and I have every intention of starting to make those new memories here, now.

"You already do," I tell her, and then I'm kissing her again, harder this time, with more urgency. My hands find the zipper at the back of her dress, and I pull it down slowly, feeling her shiver as the fabric loosens and begins to slip from her shoulders.

"Here?" she asks breathlessly, pulling back just enough to look around the office.

“We’re going to make this room ours.” I slide the dress down her arms, letting it pool at her waist. She's wearing a black lace bra underneath, and the sight of her like this, half-dressed and flushed, her eyes dark with desire, makes my cock throb almost painfully. "Your father tried to make you feel powerless in this room. I want to replace that memory with something better."

I lift her easily, setting her on the edge of the desk and stepping between her legs. Her dress rides up around her thighs, and I can see the matching black lace of her panties.

"You're so fucking beautiful," I murmur, running my hands up her thighs and hooking my fingers in the waistband of her panties. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

"Show me," she challenges, tilting her chin and lifting her hips so I can pull the lace down and off. "Show me what I do to you, Declan."

I drop her panties on the floor and reach for my zipper, freeing my cock with a groan of relief. Elena's eyes drop to watch, and I see her bite her lip as she takes in the sight of me, hard and thick and already leaking at the tip.

"Touch yourself," I murmur roughly. "I want to watch you get ready for me."

She doesn't hesitate. Her hand slides between her legs, and I watch as she circles her clit with her fingers, her breath hitching as she touches herself. The sight is almost unbearably erotic—my wife, pleasuring herself while I watch.

"That's it," I encourage, wrapping my hand around my cock and stroking slowly. "Get yourself nice and wet for me, baby. I want to slide right in."

Elena's eyes are locked on my hand, watching the way I'm touching myself, and I can see the flush spreading down her neck and across her chest. "Declan," she breathes, her fingers moving faster. "I need you. Please."