Page 27 of The Mafia Bachelor

“No, just…” She looks down at her feet, scuffs the sand with her toes, then up at the horizon. “I don’t know. Everything seems out of reach. I thought a husband and a family was impossible, and a good job might be achievable. It turns out they’re both as pie in the sky as each other.”

“Unless you marry a hugely wealthy mafia boss who can give you anything you need.”

“Right, if pigs fly, I can definitely do anything.” She looks up, and her bright teasing is back.

“You’re in the competition,” I point out.

“I’m in up to my neck.” She shakes her head. “And how many kids would you want?”

“More than one,” I reply immediately.

Tilting her head, she blinks. “Why?”

“I was an only child, and I’d rather not do the same. Mafia families are isolated enough because of security, though the London Mafia Syndicate have fixed a lot of the concerns about knowing others who are friendly. I wouldn’t want my child to be alone.”

“Because you were?” Her expression says she has only just dared to ask.

“Yes,” I admit. “And the thing is, my parents didn’t plan it that way. I was a complicated birth, and my mother couldn’t have any more children afterwards.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Even in the dark, I can see that she’s sad on all my family’s behalf. It’s in the tilt of her head, and the sincerity of her tone. She’s so much better than I deserve, and I don’t care. I’m pursuing her, anyway.

“That’s partly why I agreed to this.” I wave my hand to indicate the whole situation of the marriage competition. “My parents aren’t getting any younger. My dad has moments when he can’t remember what’s happening. My mam has wanted grandkids for decades.”

I see the moment she understands that this isn’t only about me, and it’s good, but it’s also a lie. Because she’s just for me. Choosing her, scheming so she’ll… if not fall in love with me, then perhaps agree to be my wife for any number of other benefits, is as selfish as it comes. I want Avery with my whole greedy dark heart.

“So you’d want children soon.”

“Would that be an issue?” I guess I could compromise on this. I would for Avery. But it would hurt to disappoint my parents. I’ve been their main hope for this family for so long, and if I didn’t have children, or didn’t have any while they could still spoil them rotten, they’d be sad, I think.

Her brown eyes go dark, and I smile. Because she can’t pretend she’s not as attracted to me as I am to her. She blushes. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“And how many times would I get you pregnant, love?” I croon, and her blush intensifies.

She bites her lip and thinks for a second, and my heart does a low throb of concern that I usually only feel when I have a problem with the Essex Cartel, or one of the London Maths Club are being twats.

“At least two for sure,” she replies, her cheeks still pink.

“Why two?”

“There were two of us, me and my sister.” She shrugs. “It’s a good number.”

“What about three? Or four?”

Her eyes go wide. “Four?”

“Five.” I let my gaze trail downwards in appreciation.

She pauses, then a smile spreads across her face, warm and light. “I think five is a better number.”

10

AVERY

I’d have agreed to six. Ten. Thirty.

However many children Kill wanted, I’d have. If I was really his wife, or a potential wife.

Okay, maybe thirty is excessive. Draw the line at five. Six, tops.