Page 23 of The Mafia Heir's Obsession

This is going to be fun.

“The girl from the other night is de Rosa’s daughter?” Seamus hisses as we’re all lounging against the end of the bar the de Rosas have set up.

“Yep. And Tor’s gonna marry us.” I take a gulp of the whiskey in my glass.

“Jesus Christ,” Torin mutters, scrubbing a hand down the front of his face since all masks have come off at this point.

“She’s got big tits from what I remember, yeah?” Fucking Declan. I smack him in the head and grab the back of his neck, squeezing.

“That’s my soon-to-be wife,gobshite. Settle down and keep your eyes peeled for anything that might be a threat.”

Torin frowns, moving closer as he grabs a canape from a passing tray. “You don’t trust de Rosa?”

“Only to a point.”

That’s my thing. I don’t trust. Not beyond the contract. I definitely don’t trust the sweaty, eager-to-please Don. Because beneath the nerves and the powerful Don whose word is law, who rules big swathes of New York City, who runs all kinds of things I’d like to expand, he’s way too fucking eager.

And that’s a huge-ass red flag.

Fear and cowardice and even nerves, I get them, understand them. I know the paths they lead some down. But I suspect de Rosa’s got problems and that they’re big.

His finances are solid. There’s no trouble or pressure from the law—not beyond the usual. And if he’s being watched by them, I can’t find any indication of it.

But if he wants more, something bigger and better, those introductions and pathways inside using the Murphy name, there might be an underlying reason for his clear unease.

I won’t lose sleep over it since I’ll have his daughter, anddespite his vile behavior toward her earlier, she is, at the very least, worth something to him.

And Lucia…

Fuck, I can still taste her. As I discreetly change course toward the bar, I can feel how she licked and sucked my tongue, like the piercing got her hot. I’m so used to it that half the time I don’t think of it unless I’m sucking tits or tonguing a pussy.

What’s she going to make of the rest of my piercings?

She’s a wildly strange one, my vixen of a wife. The Don’s daughter. The wrong bride. Fucking irony. I stifle a laugh and down my drink, the bartender refilling it without me asking.

I might be obsessed.

Just a little.

But I can’t blame myself because she’s contradiction upon contradiction. Knowing her identity, now I get why she didn’t scream the other night, but she also had no idea who or what I was. And she clearly didn’t run to Daddy for help, either. Apart from the facts that I don’t think she was meant to be in front of that club and that I killed the man de Rosa wanted out of his way, I’m sure Daddy would have bargained a little more with me if he had a daughter in danger.

It wouldn’t have worked, but that’s what I would do if I were in his shoes.

Actually, scratch that. I wouldn’t marry off a daughter like she was a cow.

Holy fuck. Imagine if I married her sister.

I’d have done it, taken the gorgeous Viviana, but I know which sister I’d have in my bed.

“She’s pretty, I’d do?—”

Dec stops the moment I side-eye him.

“Cal,” Tor mutters, moving closer. “I’ll marry you both. Technically, you don’t need it since the paperwork pretty muchsold her to you and solidified the deal already. But if you really think de Rosa’s hiding something and it’s bad, you don’t have to?—”

“I want the deal,” I say, cutting him off.

“You don’t have to take care of us. Mam is happy and safe. We don’t need this.”

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