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God, he’s such a bastard. I love him. “Liar. You’d never eat gelato without me.”
“I’m more concerned that you aren’t bothered about the strip clubs.”
“Because I know you didn’t go to strip clubs,monamour. You’re one hundred percent faithful and obsessed with me,” I teased. “Now be honest and tell me how was France?”
“I was eager every minute of my stay to get back to you and Cerberus,” he whispered. “I fulfilled my duties and that’s all that matters.”
While he was there, he called to tell me about the initiation. I did not eat or sleep that day, murmuring prayers the entire time to make sure he’d make it out alive. Otherwise, I’d take my gun and shoot all the De la Croix men up their asses. Nobody hurt my Zeno and got away with it.
“I take it you are officially seigneur?”
“The title means nothing to me if I don’t have my queen to rule by my side.” Zeno’s heartfelt confession struck me like an arrow. “Youare worth more than all the riches in the world combined. More than a thousand empires. Without you, this lifetime is not worth living, Darla.”
Tears stung my eyes. “Oh, Zeno.”
“You’re torturing me, little angel.” His rough words were laced with yearning. “Come back home to me and let us start the beginning of our new lives together.”
He was killing me softly. “Soon, Zeno.”
Our PR team had worked really hard to keep a lid on the entire situation and while it had improved tremendously, mentally and emotionally, I needed just a bit more time before returning to the estate.
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“No talk about dying, Darla,” he said fiercely. “Neveragain.”
For the next two hours, we chatted on the phone, without my husband knowing I lay in bed, wearing his dress shirt, his cologne cocooning me as I drifted to sleep.
Zeno took me not returning home as a sign for him to begin groveling—or persuading, as he put it. I already forgave my husband, yet he continued to harbour guilt for not destroying the folder earlier.
It was like déjà vu when Alberto knocked on my door the next morning, telling me a gift was waiting outside. I tumbled out of bed, grabbed my robe, and practically skipped down the hallways and out the door.
A new dark green Lamborghini was parked in the driveway.
I snatched the note stuck on the windshield and read it with the biggest smile.
Darla,
Since yourlast ride was damaged, here’s a redo.
I knowyou’re a badass, but try not to engage inanother drive-by shooting.
PS: We’re going to haveto christen the hood of your car all over again.
All my love,
Zeno
Alberto peered over my shoulder. “Miss Darla, what does he mean by christen the car? Will he take it to a priest?”
I burst out laughing and Alberto looked confused. I wasn’t about to ruin his innocence. “Zeno’s…fond of religion. He likes to pray before he does anything. He’ll probably douse the car with some Holy Water.”
Alberto placed a hand over his heart and nodded bashfully. “I understand. Quite frankly, I’m content you married a man of such strong faith.”
My lips twitched. “Yeah, me too, Berto.”
The only thing Zeno had strong faith in these days was defiling me in St. Victoria’s confessional box.
