Page 117 of The Mafia Heir's Obsession

“Read your contract,” I say in a low voice. “It clearly states if Lucie is threatened by one of us, it’s all null and void.”

“You, that’s about you.”

“You had it worded to mean by one of us, you or me. I agreed. To be fair. And you just fucked up that contract bysucking Osinov’s tiny dick. He’s dead, by the way, but I had quite the conversation with him before he met his maker.”

“Lies.”

I ignore him. “Here’s the deal.” I tighten my hold and jam the gun harder against his temple. I hope it fucking hurts. “Keep the fuck away from Lucie. And you do not harm Viviana, your wife, or your son?—”

“I wouldn’t?—”

“Not. Done. Keep the fuck away from Lucie. You never speak to her again. Defy me, try and hurt her, and you’re a dead man.Capisce?”

THIRTY-TWO

lucie

I’m officially,and secretly, in love.

I knew sex was good. I never knew it could also be otherworldly.

Transcendental.

Magical.

I put a cup at the bottom of the coffee machine, slide a pod into place, and press the Start button.

If Viv was here, she’d squeal, then tell me I’m being ridiculous, that I’m coming down off an adrenaline rush of Callahan rescuing me. But she’d be wrong.

This has been coming since he saved my life outside that horrible club, since he kissed me and fingered me in the park. It’s been coming since that wedding night when he cut himself and bled for me. Since he took me to the sex club and taunted me. Since he took Arnold and Clawzilla into his home.

All of it. Every moment. Bad and good and frustrating.

I know, I know he’s a very bad man. But he’s so good to me, and he’s saved my life so many times. Even marrying me was saving my life from whatever else Dad might have had in store for me.

I can see now that Dad was never letting me go. It’s why Viv ran, selfish as that was, and left me in the lurch. But then again, I wouldn’t have expected her to take me with her.

It was always all about Viv, what she wanted, what she needed.

I pull the cream from the fridge, spoon my four teaspoons of sugar into the cup, and top it with the cream. I’m about to take a sip when Declan comes into the kitchen, all smiles.

“Hey, Lucie, look. I got this for Clawzilla!” He holds up the silver and black cat carrier backpack.

Clawzilla gives it a dubious look.

And the click of claws on the tiles announces Arnold’s arrival.

“Didn’t we get him something, too?”

“I don’t know. Did we?” Declan rolls his eyes like I’m ruining his morning. I know he’s on “protect Lucie” duty, taking over from Torin who’d muttered something about me staying put as he had a lot of work to do and they needed to pick one place to call their official office.

Declan opens the hard pack and drops the cat in. Clawzilla hisses, making Arnold growl.

Clawzilla sits there in the pack, looking nonplussed, then he seems to realize it’s soft and he can see through the sides and walk around. So the kitten stretches and settles down. Then Declan puts the pack on and looks at me. “Drink your coffee and we’ll go for a walk.”

Arnold barks his approval. He’s so smart.

We’re almost home when I ask Declan to stop so I can go to the bakery at the end of our street and get cupcakes.

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