Page 68 of Mafia and Gold Digger

He smirks, tugging me down the hall. “I want to show you whereyou’llbe sleeping.”

“Oh?”

Saint nods and pushes open the sleek solid wood French doors. With a swift tug, he pulls me into the room, and my mouth drops open. The same wood paneling that lined the walls downstairs is here as well, and the large windows let in all the natural light possible. A big bed sits against one wall, with two nightstands on either side.

“This is wow,” I have to admit. My eyes roam around the rest of the space. There’s a long dresser, a full standing mirror, and two white velvet armchairs, but it’s the chessboard between those armchairs that gets my attention. It’s different from the board we normally play on. This one looks custom.

“You like it?”

“Yeah, it’s great.”

And the smile on his face makes my heart thunder in my chest as he closes the distance between us. I swallow around the lump in my throat.

“If you want to change anything, let me know.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Emerald, this is your room too.”

“Oh, and here I thought I’d be sleeping alone.”

“Not a chance, baby.”

My back hits the wall as he walks me backward, and it’s so easy to forget that he’s just playing a character.

“Get unpacked, and I’m going to go see about getting dinner. The staff is pretty barebones. A maid comes in each day to deal with the cleaning and laundry, and there’s a gardener, but no chef. But if you want one, let me know.”

I laugh. “Oh no. I’m a big girl. I can cook our meals.”

“Except tonight.”

“Sure.”

His lips ghost against my neck, and I forget how to speak or breathe for a second. The way he’s got my body so on edge with anticipation is concerning, but with him pressed against me and that smokey spice of him filling my nose, I don’t really care.

He steps back after pressing a lingering kiss against my lips. The cold eats up the heat of him, and he winks at me before leaving the room.

Once I’ve helped the kids unpack and put their things away, I do the same with my stuff. I have my own walk-in closet in Saint’s bedroom, and I hang up my clothes, including the dresses I stole while I was away and working for Winifred. They’re a tether to an old life I can’t give up yet. And Saint won’t need to come into my closet, so what Saint doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?

Once the takeout arrives, we all go down and sit around the large kitchen island. The conversation flows as everyone eats. Milena and Giulietta discuss whose room is better and how Milena is going to make some amazing mural on the wall with spray paint. Saint just laughs it off, easily joining in with everyone.

“So, what’s your room like, Em?” Milena asks.

“Oh, um, you know, very luxurious.” I shrug, shoveling some food into my mouth to avoid talking. I don’t want to talk about the bedroom arrangement, although the kids will see it soon enough.

After dinner, we let the kids run around and explore. It’s Friday night, so I let them stay up later than normal, soaking up being with them again and catching up on all their news.

Eventually, I manage to get Jaspar and Giulietta upstairs for their bath and bedtime.

Flipping off the switch to Giulietta’s room, I move out into the hall. With the exception of Milena, who’s gabbing away on her cell phone to a friend, the others are all tucked into bed and sleeping.

I walk back to his—our—bedroom and come to an abrupt halt and shriek. “What’s going on?”

Because staring back at me is not just Saint but also two other sets of piercing blue eyes.

“Meet Serial and Killer,” Saint replies in a casual tone.

I back away.

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