Page 49 of Stolen Bride

“Thanks.” I step out of the shower with a towel. Once I’m covered, I hand a towel to my wife but close the curtain. I don’t want them to even get a single reflection of her. Rapping my knuckles on the cheap wood, I hear them stop working and a simple, “Ready?” come from my father.

I open the door and see a set of clothes for me. “We didn’t want to touch her things, but there’s her suitcase.”

“I appreciate it.” It’s wise of them because they know how I feel about her. They shouldn’t have been in here while I was drilling her, but the clean-up couldn’t wait. If the cops or housekeeping showed up, there would be an issue. I own somany people in this state, but you never know who may want to start some shit.

“Get dressed, my love. I’ll be out there dealing with the fallout.” I kiss her hard and then step outside through a small opening. Jealousy and possessiveness will never end where she’s concerned, even if I trust her implicitly.

The second my father sees me, he throws his arms around me. “It’s so good to see you.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. It’s not something I’ve said in many years, but it’s days overdue.

“No, it’s not me you owe an apology to, but I know it’s not easy for you.”

“You’re right.”

“How is she?”

“I underestimated my bride. She killed her stepfather.” Everyone stopped working and looked up at me.

“Holy shit. That was her handiwork?”

“Yes, my little angel has a dark side.”

“Remind me not to piss her off,” Adriano says, tossing his hands up.

“So I’m going to be a grandfather?”

“I hope a really great one.”

“Me too. Your mother’s going to be excited. I have to call her before she freaks out, though. She’s been messaging me, waiting for an update since I followed you.”

“Why did you?”

“You’re my son, and you needed me, even if you don’t think so. I know what it’s like to be in love, and I’d do anything tokeep your mother safe. Even if your sister did what she did with the best intentions, the second Stella Valentino left the house unprotected, she became a huge target.”

“Thank you.” The bathroom door opens, and my angelic bride walks out, looking perfectly sweet even though everyone in the room knows something darker lies underneath, and I couldn’t be prouder and now my dick is back at it. We need to be alone again.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Damiano

We spent a week in Barbados, enjoying the beach, the water, and most importantly, each other. I made love to Stella every moment I could, but it is finally time to return home. She isn’t feeling so well, and after a quick check-up with an island physician, morning sickness is getting to my gorgeous wife.

Besides, I still have one more person to deal with. A traitor above all. Rocco. He has played us more than the others. He’s been waiting so patiently for my return that I have to welcome him with special treatment. After I take care of that treacherous bastard, I have a massive apology to make.

“Sleepy, beautiful?” I whisper, watching Stella stretch out on the plane lounger.

“Yes, so sleepy.” She lets out an adorable yawn like a cat.

“Rest. We’ll be home in two hours.”

We took our private jet because I refused to share her with anyone else or risk someone attacking. Our security has been tight after the other set of fires. Benz has been involved with the help of Baker, but I doubt they are the only ones. My enemies list is long, including Salazar’s family. Word has gotten out that he’s missing, and I’m the last person he’d gone to see.

“Sounds wonderful.” She sighs, snuggling up in just one of my shirts. We didn’t even make it to the landing strip before I was balls deep in her, tearing off her sundress. I don’t know what it is, but seeing her in dresses sends my cock up to full mast. I summon the flight attendant and request a blanket for my wife. She’s about to put it on her, but that’s my pleasure.

I work for the rest of the flight, twirling a glass of whiskey while I consider the probability that my sister might not want to speak to me. Will that harm her friendship with Stella? They were so close.

The flight attendant comes in to remind us to buckle in for landing. “Thank you. I’ll wake my wife.”

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