Page 58 of Mafia and Gold Digger

My face falls. I’d forgotten all about the bet while I’d been focusing on the chess.

It's a bitter pill to swallow, but I can't deny the skill and strategy he’s displayed. As I gather the pieces, I replay the game in my mind, each mistake glaring and obvious in hindsight. Next time, I tell myself—next time, I'll be ready.

The game may be over, but the battle between us has only just begun…

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

SAINT

Hell, does she look good. My eyes eat her up, and my body heats. Before, my heartbeat was racing because of adrenaline. Now, it’s racing for a whole different reason. Emerald’s hair is piled on her head, and those green eyes that have haunted me since she first vanished without a trace narrow. “Time to take you home. Get your stuff together.”

I can tell she’s far from thrilled about my fake fiancée plan, but that’s the least of my worries right now. I don’t know what it is about her that makes me feel so out of control. She’s complicated, like a game of chess. She’s a play I want to conquer, a game I want to win. But she doesn't trust me after all the lies I’ve told. She probably doesn't even like me now that I’ve pulled this stunt to make her my fiancée. Turning on my heel, I stand in the doorway, arms crossed over my chest. My eyes watch as a few bodies across the parking lot enter their rooms. I take stock of everything. Keeping my surroundings in focus at all times.

I can see her looking toward the bathroom. “Don’t even think about the bathroom window. You’ll get yourself stuck, and we’re on a timetable,” I clip without turning to face her.

She huffs, and I smirk. The relief running through me right now is its own high, but it’s battling with my bubbling agitation. We’re not safe yet. She pulls her hair out from the bun as she tugs on some warmer clothes clothes. Greedily, I take her in. The flare of her hips, the curves of her legs, the way her jeans cling to her thighs. I turn my face back to the hallway.

“Ready,” she says.

“Good. Let’s go.”

The car ride is tense and thick with things neither of us is going to say. Fine by me. Because it’s enough to just have her in that seat across from me.Alive. Breathing.

I know she’s worried about returning to New York. Terrified that it’ll put the kids in danger. But I’ll never let anything happen to her or those kids.

Inhaling sharply, my hand tightens on the steering wheel as her chocolate mint scent fills my nostrils.

I keep a close eye on her as I drive. Given any opportunity, she’s gonna take off again—and I’m fucking tired.

Tired of worrying.

Tired of not sleeping, knowing that she could be lying in a ditch.

Tired of feeling helpless and out of control…

As I drive, I tell her my plans. “We’ll stay at a hotel tonight. I have a house in Venetiville, and we can move in there tomorrow. But this evening, I’m having people work through the night to get some rooms furnished for the kids. It’s already late, and the kids will be asleep by now, so we’ll swing by and pick them up tomorrow.”

“We have to live together?” I hear the shock in her voice.

“You’re my fiancée now, and you’re moving in with me. That’s the only way I can keep you safe.”

She opens her mouth to protest but then stops herself, knowing from the hard look on my face that I’m not going to take no for an answer.

We drive in silence for a while until Emerald finally says something. “I’ve missed Milena, Giulietta, and Jaspar.So much. That’s the only good thing about coming back to New York—that I’ll be with them again and be able to take care of them.”

* * *

When we get to the hotel, I show her the room I booked. It’s a gorgeous suite, but there’s only one bedroom…and one bed.

“We’re having, um, separate rooms, right?” she asks.

“No. I need to keep an eye on you at night.”

Her mouth drops open, but seeing that I’m not going to change my mind, she takes her bag and heads into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

When I hear the taps turn on, I drag a hand down my face. It’ll be a miracle if she doesn’t shove me off the bed tonight as soon as I’m asleep.

Laying back, I stare at the ceiling. I hear a splash which must be her getting into the tub, and after a few minutes, the scent of bath oils drifts under the bathroom door into the bedroom.

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