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“They are my friends. My best friends. So yeah, they may be around from time to time. Do you have a problem with them visiting?”
He was quiet for a moment. The background noise changed. Then, he spoke again, and it sounded like he was closer to the phone.
“Yes, I have a problem with men being in my home with my wife while I’m not there.”
“They are my friends. Just my friends. Kiwi is here too, by the way. She’s the woman here that you said nothing about so, technically, I am not ‘alone’ with men. I have backup. Also, Kiwi and Donte have been together for about eight years now, so I think if Donte were to do anything to me, she would have way more right to be pissed than you. She might actually kill him, so there is really nothing to worry about with him. He’s like the brother I never had.”
“What about the other guy?” he asked, though his anger seemed to have fizzled out a little. Pity, because mine was just igniting.
“Logan has been my friend for a long time. Nothing has ever happened between us, and we aren't into each other that way. Not that it’s any of your business. You and I may be married on paper, but my body is mine to do what I want with it. It just so happens that I haven't been physical with anyone since I was sixteen, and I have no plans on changing that any time soon, so you can relax. I’m not going to screw Donte or Logan on your bed, as tempting as that is right now, because I have class and morals. Not that you even cared to ask.”
I was breathing heavily by the end of that, and my friends were standing in the dining room watching me pace. They probably heard the whole rant, but at the moment I didn’t care. I was too angry to care about anyone’s feelings, not even Logan’s.
“Oh,” he responded, his voice a little shaky. He must not have expected me to get as upset as I was. Heck, even I was surprised by it, but it had been a weird day for me. I blamed it on stress.
“Yeah, So, if you have a problem with my friends being here, I will have them leave. But if they go, I go. I refuse to live in a place where my friends are not welcome to visit me,” I said matter-of-factly.
“No… uh… they can stay,” he said.
“Good choice. Now, which bedroom am I allowed to put my stuff in?”
Chapter 11
Jimmy
Ihadn’texpectedtoget so angry or—though it hurt me a little to admit it—jealous.
When Natalia told me she was moved in, I checked the cameras to see where exactly she was. The thought of being able to see her whenever I wanted made me happy. The thought of her being at my place made me happy too—something I had never thought would happen. I liked my space the way it was, and anyone coming in and disrupting that made my nerves tighten like a fist around my brain.
But seeing her there at the table with two other guys really pissed me off. I was completely aware that I didn’t have a right to be pissed. I barely knew her. I didn’t know if she had a boyfriend before all this, and I certainly didn’t care. Somehow, putting the label on her as my wife had done something to me. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was now mine in every aspect, or maybe it was because was shared something that no one else could—we were both victims of our fathers’ Mafia-related decisions. Or maybe it was because she fought tooth and nail for what she believed in, proving she had a backbone and how to use it.
Or maybe it was because she was absolutely gorgeous, and I was having trouble getting her out of my mind.
Whatever it was, If I hadn’t been tied up at work, I would have gone home and thrown them out myself.
Then, of course, I would also have to face Natalia’s wrath.
The way she had yelled at me on the phone made me pleased instead of angry. If anyone else had yelled at me, I would have kicked them out of my place faster than I could hang up the phone. But her? The way she expressed her anger in such an intelligent, descriptive manner—almost like an angry lawyer—made me proud of her. It made her more attractive to me.
And when she said she hadn’t been with anyone since she was sixteen? My dick twitched. I wish I could say it had a mind of its own, but really it was because she was practically new. It meant she wasn’t seeing anyone, and it meant that she had self-control.
I wanted to break that control.
Taken aback by everything she had said and my own reaction to the whole conversation, when she asked where she could put her things, I told her we would discuss it later and to just leave everything where it was. Then I told her I had a meeting to go to and hung up the phone.
But then I watched her for some time on the cameras. Creepy, I know, but I was curious as to how she acted with her friends. If she was telling the truth about the men or not. As I watched, it definitely seemed like she was telling the truth. One of them kept touching the other girl—Natalia had called her Kiwi? They seemed like they were a couple, and he certainly only had eyes for her. I could tell even with the limited vision I had with the camera in the dining room.
It seemed like the other male was interested in Natalia, but she either didn’t know or didn’t share the same feelings because she didn’t make any sort of movement toward him, even though he tried to touch her arm a few times. I couldn’t hear what was said, but they seemed to be having a good time.
When the pizza and beer were gone, Natalia escorted the three friends out the door, said goodnight, then cleaned up after them. I watched her find the trash can under the sink and fold the pizza box until it fit, then follow it with the beer bottles, tops, and cardboard they had come in.
She was clean, I liked that, and she danced either to the music in her head or to music on her phone. As she moved, her figure became more apparent, and her energy made me smile. She danced around the kitchen island, waving her hands in the air and swinging her hips. Maybe she forgot that I had cameras, or she didn’t care if I saw, but she certainly danced like no one was watching.
I stopped watching her after a little while and went back to work. It was hard to concentrate, though. I kept thinking of her yelling at me. Of her standing up to me for her friends, even though I could do so much damage to her life. She was a spitfire with more loyalty than I had seen in a long time. She would do anything for her father, for her friends.
I was happy to call her my wife, something I didn’t think would happen.
When I checked the cameras again, she had moved her things into a pile in the living room by the stairs and snuggled up on the couch in a large comforter. A movie was on the television, and she was sipping coffee. I watched as she jumped, reacting to something on the screen, then covered her face with the blanket, peeking around the side to make sure the monster on the screen was gone and she could safely drink her coffee.
