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After I get in, he slamsthe door behind me. I don'tmeet his eyes, I just lay myhead on theback of theseat and try to take a nap. Soon, thehum of the tires over the road lulls me into sleep.
When I wake, it's dark out. I blink, trying to remember where I am. The torn dress and glowering jerk next to me bring me back to reality fast.
There’s a blanket over me, which is surprising. And when my eyes adjust to the darkness, there’s Adriano, laying back with his arms across his chest and his eyes closed. I wonder…
"We're almost there." How did he even knowI was awake with his eyes closed? Well, that'sgonnabe a pain in the ass.
"Where?"
"Our honeymoon destination."
Was he born grumpy as fuck, or did someone drop him on his head when he was a baby?Who hurt you?
Ipeerout the window but can’t see much in the dark until the clouds part, moonlight highlighting weather-hewn rocks that overlook an ocean. Ahead of us is some sort of hotel, or mansion.
Wow. "Can you tell me a little bit more about where we are?"
He opens his eyes and yawns. "Yes… and no. It's best if nobody knows where weare. That waynobody can track us. I took your cellphone becauseI don't want you to call Eden right now. I'll be in touch with Sergio and eventually, soon, we’ll go back to the club. But fornow,we're here." He gives me a sharp look. “Do you have a job to check into? Pets at home?”
I look away. “No.”
The only people who care about where I am are at the club.
I try to figure out where we are. From what I know of the Boston area, it's likely we would have gone to one of the many beaches in Massachusetts. Or we could havedriven either south to Rhode Island, wherethebeaches are plenty, or north toMaine.That would be nice. I've always wanted to go to Maine.
"Wait. You took my cell phone?"
"I don't want you plastering stuff on social media."
"Do you think I'mgonnamake a TikTok in my wedding dress showing off my new mobster husband?"
He rolls his eyes and checks his watch.
"We're going to stay here at least a week. I've had your stuff brought in. There's food waiting for us."
Is this my newhusband tryingto be nice to me? Because he has a long way to go. Even though this is nothing but a farce, I've been so consumed with the concept of marrying him that I haven't really thought about the practical side of things. I barely packed a bag, I don't have a lot of money in my bank account, and even though I've only been taking temporary jobssince I came back to Boston, I sort of have a home at the club.
And I’malone with this grumpy bear in the middle of nowhere.
He opens the door and stretches."Let's go."
I'm starving and I'm looking forward to getting settled, so I don't give him any more shit.
For now.
Itisdefinitely nota hotel, but some kind of mansion. It's nothing like the castle where we got married. It’s much smaller yet still imposing in its own way. There's even a balcony that overlooks the beach, complete with white columns, and a beautiful plateglass window. I can't wait to take my morning coffee sitting out there.
It's quaint, but well-kept and lovely. His long, long strides make quick work of the walk and I trot after him, trying to absorb every detail.
"Maine. At least I know that much. We’re in Maine." I try tostiflethe grin thatspreads across my face. I can't wait to eat lobster, maybe look at some lighthouses and, if I'm lucky, maybe even see a moose. I know this isMaine because I've seenthis very beachin apainting. There's a lighthouse painting in the foyer of The Castle.Edentold me that it was of a placenot far from Kennebunkport.
He only gives me a sidelong glance, confirming my suspicions.
"Do youownthis house?"
"Do you ever stop talking?"
"Never. Oooh, maybe you’ll have togagme.”
