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But while my hands are tied up, I don't even notice, and nobody tries to stop her, as Presley comes up to me and pulls my gun out of my holster.
"She knows too much. She clearly knows more than I do about who you are, where I live, and the fact that this marriage isn't exactly something that I was planning on. And if I know her at all, she is not going to stop until she gets what she wants. She has to go." And then my new wife pulls the trigger, pegging Heather right between the eyes. She brings the gun back down and wipes sweat from her brow. "Now, I think that my husband and I need some alone time to work out some things that he seems to have a left out about himself." wWthout another word, she walks out of the room and heads towards the master suite. Mariana stops me for a moment as I go to follow. "I don't know where you found her, but tell your wife I said welcome to the mafia."
It is only when I walk into the still dark room that I had my maids prepare for our wedding night during the wedding that I remember she still had that gun in her hand when she left the room. As soon as the door shuts behind me, I have no time for my eyes to adjust to the darkness because she has that same gun pressed to my left shoulder.
“If you are trying to hit my heart, you are way off.”
“I am not trying to kill you, Stefan; just make you fear the threat of pain. A blown shoulder will hurt like hell,” she grits out, and I feel myself getting hard. I shouldn’t be. I should be going after her with my knife and reminding her who she is married to since she just got a little preview of that. But this is what I signed up for in so many ways. I didn’t know that Presley Richards would fit into the Clans so well, only that she would fit into my plan to not have some boring virginal Romanian woman at my side for eternity. But she proved tonight beyond a doubt she can handle this life, even if she hates me for lying to her about it. “Now, why don’t you tell me about all the things you omitted before forcing me to become your wife like whatever crazy shit you are into that has led me to shoot my friend to death.”
“A gun to my shoulder isn’t exactly motivation, pumpkin. I suggest you back off with that before things gets much nastier than I wanted for our first night as a married couple,” I say darkly, pressing the coolness of the knife against her stomach. I don’t dig in or harm her but let her know I am not as afraid of her threat as she wishes me to be.
“Then, promise me,” she says.
“This is the one and only time I will do so, but yes, I will tell you who I am if you put the gun down.” The pressure is removed form my shoulder, and I hear her shuffling in the dark, cursing as she trips over something. The lamp on my nightstand comes on and casts an ugly, yellow glow where she sets the gun down and leans awkwardly on that side of the bed; one leg up on the bed and the other dangling off. Her arms are crossed over her chest as she swings that free leg impatiently.
I loosen my tie and walk over slowly, my eyes never leaving hers. She doesn’t even flinch, and I find I haven’t even given her enough credit yet. She is not like any woman I have ever known. Hell, she seems to have bigger balls than most of the men I know.
I set my knife down next to the gun and remain standing, my hands sliding across the fake rose petals on her dress. “I do hope despite everything there was something you enjoyed about today. The dress, maybe, or the kiss?” I arch my brow at her, and she rolls her eyes. I reach out and grab the sides of her mouth, pinching them together so it is painful, and she won’t be able to talk. “I asked you a question, and you will answer. I am going to tell you what I do, but that doesn’t excuse you from having to reveal anything to me. It is our wedding night, no matter how it came about.”
I let go, and she hisses at me like an angry snake. “The dress is perfect,” she finally says before resuming that swing in her leg. I leave my hand to rest on the material again, an intimacy without actually touching her body, as I reveal to her the monster she married.
“As you know, my name is Stefan Dalca. I am the soon to be head of Clan Dalca here in Brazil, but my father technically holds that title now. Though, I am pretty much submerged in the family business already.”
“What is the Clan, and what is the family business?” she presses with no patience.
“Mafia families, Presley. That is what the Clans are. We are mafia families assigned to certain territories around the world, many of us ruling the area for generations. Though, some are new. Brazil is mine.”
She starts laughing, and I look at her with unamused curiosity. “This is a joke, right like I am being punkd? No way did a marry into the mafia.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, pumpkin, bit this is very real, which means you are very much in danger.”
“You told me I was lucky!” she yells. “You told me I was lucky to be coming home with you, you convince me to marry you, and then I almost die at our wedding because you are part of the mafia and failed to tell me. The least you could have done is warned me that my safety was on the line. Maybe I should have just cried fowl to my parents today and let them take me home. My Daddy has …”
I stop her there, leaping on top of her, pressing my body against hers so that she cannot move. My thumb is hard against her chin, smacking her teeth together and closing her mouth so she can’t say anything more. “You and I both know that you hated the life yourDaddywanted you to live. I saved you from that and from that damn boat full of cages and crazies. You will not disrespect me by threatening me. If I had told you, you would have just given me a harder time. And need I remind you that it was your friend wielding the gun, not one of mine?”
It isn’t lost on me that we are closer than we have ever been. Even the kiss at the end of the wedding, though a little passionate, was not the kind that had us pressing our bodies against each other. My anger had led me to be on top of her, but my eyes are glazing over as I realize how warm she is, her bare stomach against my thin button down. I don’t want to push her, but I am turned on by the anger in her eyes; anger instead of the fear I am sure other women would hold there at this moment.
I do take advantage of her closed lips and place mine on hers hard, just testing her before pulling away and letting her chin go, but a hard tug at my loosened tie has me falling back down to her, her lips parted for me as I nip at them once more with more urgency. She doesn’t have to show me twice she is interested, and I don’t care in the least that this is happening because we can’t stand each other right now.
It’s the best kind if you ask me.
