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“You’re leaving?”
“I have a couple of things to take care of. I’ll be back soon.”
I don’t know how I feel about that. He was the one so quick to make me marry him tonight, and then we couldn’t leave the judge’s house until we consummated the marriage—which, unless Link’s lost his stamina over the years, was also a lot quicker than it should’ve been.
However, now that he has me wearing his ring, he’s even quicker to pass me off to his friend.
I shouldn’t be hurt by that. Odds are that, whatever business he has, it’s him holding up his end of our bargain. I married him, so now he has to make it so that no one knows what happened at my house tonight.
I nod. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you later.”
His hand is still on my jaw. Tightening his grip, he holds my head in place as he bends his down to mine. His kiss is bruising, almost punishing as he presses our lips together. Instead of coaxing mine to part, he forced his way into my mouth, devouring me whole.
I can’t escape him. There is no relief, and as I reach out, fisting his button-down shirt, I cling to Link as he takes everything he wants from me.
When he finally releases me, I have a death grip on his shirt that takes a few seconds for me to break. I’m panting, not sure if I hate him for treating me like he owns me, or that I’m already addicted to this forceful, powerful side of him.
His eyes are blazing with an emotion I can’t quite read as he threads his fingers in my hair, resting his chin on top of my head. With our height difference, it’s probably the most comfortable for him—or it’s just his way of showing me that he’s in control.
I’m panting, but he sounds as cold as ice even as his words burn me up from the inside: “It’s our wedding night, pet. The beginning of forever. I wouldn’t miss a minute of it unless I had to. Remember that.”
Catching my breath, resisting the urge to fall against his hard chest, I whisper, “I will.”
* * *
AVA
“Ava, kochanie. I can’t believe it’s you!”
The moment I follow Royce and my two packed bags off of the private elevator that led us to the penthouse, I’m immediately engulfed in a tight hug that would’ve scared me shitless if I hadn’t recognized the accented voice calling out to me a second before I was being squeezed.
Mona Jankowski was the building’s grandmother when we were kids. She immigrated from Poland during her early twenties, settling in Springfield where she buried two husbands, three kids, and was still the sweetest old lady I’ve ever known.
Growing up, her apartment was a floor below my family’s, right next door to the Crewes’s. Because I spent all of my time there, she treated me like I was another one of her treasured grandchildren, but I haven’t seen her since the day Link’s mom kicked him out, and I left with him.
She always smelled like flour, I remember, breathing the same scent in now as she gives me an excited squeeze before letting me go.
Her grey hair is done up in curlers. Her big, fluffy body is covered by a white terrycloth robe, the hem of her pale pink nightgown escaping the bottom of it. Despite the late hour—and the fact that she must’ve been sleeping earlier—her rich brow eyes are alert, and her thin lips are spread in a big smile as she looks over at me.
She’s aged a little in the fifteen years since I’ve seen her last, but I recognize her regardless.
“Mama Mona,” I say, greeting her with the name all of us kids had for her back then, “what are you doing here?”
To be honest, I would’ve thought she’d pass by now. As a kid, she seemed so old, though now that I’m looking at her, I can’t imagine that she’s more than seventy, and still in good health if her rosy cheeks and big belly are any clue.
“I work for Mr. Lincoln,” she says, beaming over at me. “He hired me as his… how do you say? In Polish, it’s gosposia…” She snaps her fingers. “Housekeeper, that’s it. I’m his housekeeper. He gave me a job when I needed one, and I get to take care of one of my chidrens.”
I don’t know how to respond to that. Did… did Link move Mama Mona out of the ramshackle apartments we grew up in once he made it big, letting her move in with, hiring her as his housekeeper, taking care of her the same way she thinks she’s doing him?
I glance past her, getting my first glimpse of the penthouse. It’s a long hall, with a huge kitchen to my right, an elaborate living room to my left, and who knows what at the other end of the shadowed hall.
Looking back at Mona, I say, “You live here?”
“Tak. I was sleeping, but when Mr. Royce woke me up, telling me to get Mr. Lincoln’s room ready for his new bride, I thought I was dreaming. O mój Boze, to see you here… I must still be. Tell me, Ava, are you the bride?”
This time, I glance down at the white dress I tugged on what feels like a lifetime ago now, glad that she can’t see how wrinkled the skirt is behind me from where Link tossed it up and pounded away inside of me barely an hour ago.
With a half smile, I admit, “I am.”
