Page 90 of Bound in Promise
Dante lifts his wine glass to his mouth, eyes still laser-focused on me. “Seems to be a trend for you people.”
My focus narrows on him. Ha ha. His disdain for the social elite would be funny if he wasn’t lumping me in with them and trying to get rid of me. I thought the whole marriage-trial would convince him to change his mind. He’s been fucking me every chance he gets, and I’ve been stupidly hoping it’d spark his own desire to stay married.
“And?” I press, wishing this conversation was already over.
“And he could,” Dante says, licking at his bottom lip to catch the last taste of his wine. “However, he didn’t ask me many questions about who I was. It was concerning.”
“It’s too late for him to do anything now, don’t you think?”
“I married his only daughter, Victoria. I would expect that to be cause for an interrogation.”
“If it doesn’t have to do with his business, he’s not generally quick to ask questions.”
“I’m a bit disappointed.”
I scoff lightly. “Ah, well…welcome to the Waldorfs. Unless you have stocks and more money than sense, you’re not going to be invited to many family events. I hope you weren’t looking forward to holidays with my parents.”
“Not particularly. You spoke to your advisors this afternoon?”
I’m ready to flip this damn table.
“Yes.”
“And?”
I inhale sharply. He’s starting to piss me off. “Transfer students may enroll in January or September. I can bring up to sixty-four credits to most universities, but they’ll need to evaluate them before deciding whether to accept them.”
“We’re getting close to winter.” No shit, Sherlock. “You could probably make the January enrollment deadline. Christmas in Paris would be heaven.”
“Then go ahead and ship out,” I sass, twisting the cloth napkin in my lap.
My husband has the audacity to smirk at me. “I thought you’d want to spend the holiday with me.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
One of his brows lifts to the ceiling. And he calls me a brat. “Do I need to remind you by bending you over a bathroom sink, princess? The coast is clear, we have nothing else to worry about when it comes to mobs or debts or anyone else coming for us?—”
“Then why leave at all?”
“Because I don’t trust the FBI to nail everyone. And, in turn, the feds might start asking questions about what went down in Lombardi’s last days. I haven’t been able to take care of that senator yet.”
Yet.
Fuck, is he still planning to assassinate a senator?
“I think you should leave it alone,” I advise. “Especially if law enforcement is snooping around.”
“But how would I know whether he’s planning to harm some other girl?”
I hadn’t thought of that. I don’t want anyone else to have to go through something as terrifying as that damn auction. The senator needs to be stopped.
“I don’t want you getting caught up in something else,” I confess. “How would you?—”
“The less you know, the better,” Dante cuts in. “Just in case. However, I’m not worried about it. You could call it one of my easier jobs.”
He’s insane.
And I’m in love with this man.
