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Predictable questions so far.
“Long enough to know I want to spend the rest of my life with her. Next question,” I reply, my hand resting on Mia’s hip. She’s tucked up against me, and I can feel the tension in her body.
She’s nervous.
Tim’s team has set up our huge conference room, and all the top media in the city are here with cameras and their microphones. It’s a daunting scene for someone not used to being in the public spotlight.
She has nothing to worry about. I could do this in my sleep.
“Claire,” I say, nodding to the dark woman in the front row. I know them all by name, given most of them follow me around or have attended every press conference I have given over the years.
“Will you share your proposal story with us?” She smiles cheekily.
Yawn.
“No,” I reply, glancing at the next raised arm. “Roger.”
“When’s the wedding? Will you have a long engagement or marry fast?” he asks.
Roger wants to know if Mia is pregnant. I glance down at her, smiling. I predicted this, and this is the one response we’ve planned.
The floor is yours, gorgeous.
Because, fuck, she is absolutely stunning, and her vulnerability only makes me want to protect her more.
In three, two, one...
“We’ve yet to set a date. Once we speak to our families, we’ll decide,” Mia answers, smiling back at me, then out to the cameras.
Perfect.
“Teresa.” I nod at the woman in the second row.
I give Mia a little squeeze. She’ll get my cock later for that incredible performance.
“How will you ensure there’s no mafia influence in your business now you’re associated with one of the most notorious mob families in America?”
My jaw tenses. Despite expecting this, it still fucks me off.
“This is a marriage, not a business merger. Not Mia, nor any of her family members, will be working with, or for, Barrett Enterprises. Last question. Vicki.”
“Has Barrett Enterprises been working with the Italian mafia previously? Is that how you met?” the small-framed older woman asks.
Sneaky bitch.
“I—”
“Our meeting was completely random,” Mia says, cutting me off and placing a warm hand on my chest.
My hand lands on hers as she lifts her face to mine.
What is she doing?
“I poured a drink down the front of him, and he was furious,” Mia continues, and oh my fucking God, she’s terrific. “And now I’m marrying the most amazing man in the world.”
Jesus.
Why does that make my chest swell?
