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“I call those debts, your family is done.” Silence again. “You’re threatening the wrong fucking man, Angela. I don’t involve myself with people without ammunition. You want to spew shit, go for it. Just know, it will come back to bite you in the ass and burn your family to the ground.”
She waits a beat and then speaks. “So what, we’re done just because of some silly—"
“Don’t reach out again. You do, your family is done, Angela. Have the shitty life you deserve.” Then Dante swipes to end the call before he throws his phone to the side, and I bust out laughing, a strange joy taking over. He shakes his head, grabbing a second bandage from the first-aid kit, placing it on the cut and pressing his lips there.
“You really don’t like people calling me names, do you?” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck and tilting my chin up for a kiss. His hands to go my hips, pulling me to the edge of his desk before he bends down to kiss me.
“I don’t like any soul on this earth disrespecting my wife.” A chill runs down my spine at his words and I press my lips to the corner of his jaw, bristly with five o’clock shadow, to the spot that bulges when he gets annoyed or when someone does something that pisses him off.
Or when he’s about to come.
I absolutely love this man’s jaw.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“For what?” he asks, his head going into my neck.
“For being mine.”
“I’ll be yours forever and a day, fiorella.”
And while he doesn’t let me kiss each of his scars this time, he presses kisses to all of my favorite places and I conveniently forget all about Angela Sigano and the disaster of my bridal shower.
TWENTY-FOUR
-Lilah-
The night of my phoney bachelorette party, a full two months into this sham of an engagement, I go in with a plan.
I’m in a teeny white dress with a goofy bride crown and recruit all of my favorite girls from the club to go out and bar hop around Jersey City with me.
It’s not a sham because I plan to go out and get tipsy and have a good time.
It’s a sham because my drivers are Dario and Tino.
Tino, I’m pretty sure, I won over already, if not just because him and Sammi have become a thing and I know Sammi does nothing but whisper sweet nothings about me into his ear because she’s a good friend.
But Dario has been a bit of a tougher nut to crack.
I need to shake his faith in his Capo and I have just the thing to do it. Because now that Dante confirmed Paulie is in fact fucking his wife, I can move forward with Johnny’s tip without fear of it being fake.
The key is to shake his faith without making him question me.
And what’s better than a drunk girl with loose lips?
So when I get into the car so that my glorified babysitters can drive me to stop number two, I stumble.
“Woah, Lilah—you good?” Tino asks, careful not to actually touch me as he moves to catch me if needed, but I just giggle a girlish sound and wave a hand at him as I situate myself into the car.
“You’re sweet, Tino. All good!”
The s in sweet comes out slurred and I watch his eyes widen just a hair.
God, how the fuck have these men made it this far? They can’t even hide a simple reaction.
Then again, that’s the point, isn’t it? Why would they hide their reaction to the woman they think is just the boss-to-be’s fiancée of convenience?
The dumb girl who, just a few months ago, was stripping at the family-owned club?
