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“Promise.”
Her shoulders slump, and she leans against my shoulder again. “Fine. I won’t tell him either.”
“Thank you.” I kiss the top of her head again and wrap my jacket around her shoulders tighter. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Just some bruises and scratches from being slammed to the ground.”
“You’ll be sore tomorrow.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I survived a bombing a few months ago with your father the same way, with someone diving on top of me.”
“Oh, right. I forgot.”
Is it a coincidence someone tried to hurt Sophie with drone bombs on my property?
No, it can’t be. Salvato said Kozlov and Petrov are dead. They were the ones responsible for the hotel bombing. But we never found out who planted the bomb. He couldn’t get any names of them before he killed them either.
If that person is still out there, they could keep trying until they take me out. Or Sophie.
Was she the main target? Did they wait until she was outside in the open? The guards didn’t mention any hits to the house itself.
The only reason anyone would want to hurt Sophie is to either push Salvato into killing me or to hurt me. Killing my wife would send me into a downward spiral while also making me look weak, incapable of handling shit. How can I protect my men, my business interests, if I can’t even keep my new wife safe?
Possibly more than just my wife…
“Have you bled yet?” I ask her.
“No, I’m not bleeding. I told you; it’s just bruises and maybe a few scrapes.”
“No, Sophie.” Reaching for her chin because I need to see her face again, I gently turn it toward me. “Have you bled this month?”
“That’s none of your business.” She tries to turn her head away, but I grip her chin tighter, holding steady.
“It is my business when you could be carrying my child, and you were hurt today.”
“Your…oh. No. I haven’t yet,” she replies. “But I doubt one little time would get me pregnant.”
“One little time?” I repeat as my gaze lowers to her lips, wanting to claim them so fucking badly. “I left a goddamn gallon of cum inside of you because it was the first time…” I stop myself since she doesn’t need to know the rest of that sentence.
Of course, she won’t let it go.
“First time what?” she asks.
I let her chin go, but she doesn’t turn away from me, so I cave and tell her the truth. “The first time I fucked anyone since the wedding date was set. Since I chose you.”
She turns even more of her body to face me while frowning so hard I want to kiss it away from her lips. “Chose me?” she repeats as if the words are foreign. “You mean the night you came to the house?”
“No. Since the day I sent Dante the wedding invitation with your name on it.”
“Which was after we met?”
“It was in December, long before we met. Months before. Like five of them.”
Fuck, I hate admitting it had been that long since I’ve fucked anyone, as if I was pussy-whipped before I even saw her in the flesh. That’s probably why I lost it and snapped, taking her right there against the wall so rough the night in the club. I was horny, and I needed her more than anything. She was all I could think about for months. The thought of another man touching her was infuriating.
“I didn’t agree to marry you until three weeks before the wedding, after Cass turned you down.”
