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JULIANA
A few days passed, and since I had been able to phone Jess on my birthday, there had been less tension between Marco and me.
Sometimes I even managed to forget that he'd forced me to come to Chicago against my will. I looked forward to spending time with him when he wasn’t working, and I willingly shared his bed. I didn’t know what had changed between us, but there had been a shift at some point.
I felt electrified whenever his gaze fell on me. Even when he entered a room, I would feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up before I even saw or heard him.
He was having such a profound effect on me, but I couldn’t understand why this was happening between us.
I was in the kitchen when Marco walked in. “Mr. Fluffy seems more settled now. He hasn’t peed on the floor today,” I commented to him.
Marco eyeballed my pet. “The day is yet young,” he muttered darkly. He obviously wasn’t convinced that Mr. Fluffy was house-trained.
And as if to prove him right, that afternoon I found one of Mr. Fluffy’s accidents on the floor. As I was cleaning it up Marco and Camillo came in.
“If that dog stays, I’m gonna need bail money,” muttered Camillo.
“Excuse me?” I asked in confusion.
“I said, if that dog stays, I’ll need bail money—because I’m gonna end up killing someone.”
“If you say so,” I replied, rolling my eyes.
“Why does the dog even do that?” complained Camillo. Although he looked like a thug with his thick neck, huge arms and endless tattoos, I had seen a much softer side to him when he was with his siblings. I was beginning to think that he was less scary than I originally thought.
Marco was glaring at the puddle. I’m not sure why he was so annoyed. I wasn’t asking him to clean it up.
“He’s marking his territory. Just as all you alpha males like to—you know, when you are having your pissing contests to see who can be the biggest Made Man.”
Marco stood watching me with one eyebrow raised while Camillo scowled at me and stomped off.
***
That evening I was lying in bed while Marco showered.
I felt myself softening when I thought about my life here in Chicago with Marco. And I was definitely attracted to him—he could ignite my desire with a single look or with the whisper of a touch.
I loved the feel of his toned muscles under my hands. Before, his strength had scared me; now, it made me feel protected somehow. I felt myself reaching out to him more and more.
But then I would worry about my family, and particularly Jessica, and that would cause guilt and resentment to come bubbling back up to the surface. I felt disloyal to my family for entertaining any feelings for this man, for letting him kiss me, and for letting him touch me.
I wondered what things would have been like if we had gotten married as originally planned and there’d been no shootout or bloody wedding?
When Marco got into bed, I decided to talk to him about Jessica.
“Marco…I’m worried about Jess. She really didn’t seem like herself. I could tell during the call that she was really anxious and stressed.”
“It’ll be wedding nerves. Most brides must feel the same before their wedding day.”
“Yes, but it seemed more than that. If it was just wedding nerves, she would have said and talked to me about it.”
“Maybe she didn’t want to talk about it because she knew that I was listening to the call. Your parents are probably stressed about her wedding after the shit-show that was yours, and they are probably projecting that stress onto Jessica.”
I still wasn’t convinced. I knew Jess too well. “Do you think that I could call her again? Without you listening in? She might be more willing to talk to me if you weren’t there.”
“That’s not going to happen. I don’t want you hatching another escape plan.”
“I won’t try to escape again, I promise.”
