Page 163 of His Hell Girl

I know he has a lot of misplaced guilt because he was the one who gave her away to Sacre Coeur, but that doesn't mean we'll forever have to mind his tender sensibilities.

"Okay, that's enough," I address everyone, my tone serious. "I think we can move past the animosities, Marcello. Sisi is my wife, and that's not going to change whether you like it or not. Instead of commenting on my love life, we should be discussing other important businesses." I nod at them.

They all stare at me as if I've grown a second head. Even Sisi is gazing up at me, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly parted.

"Now it's not fun anymore," Bianca sighs, and the others seem to join her, all looking rather disappointed. Instead of arguing, they turn their backs to me, returning to the basement. Even Marcello looks suddenly disinterested and doesn't even blink twice at Sisi and I being so close to each other.

"What's happening?" I ask Sisi, a little confused about what just happened.

"They were taunting you because you're so easily riled up," she confides, a sheepish smile on her face. "Especially when it comes to me."

"Goddamn," I mutter, already tired of this.

And they wonder why I don't like to socialize.

Heading inside the basement, we go to the meeting room where a round table occupies the center of the space, with chairs strewn around in disarray. There are a couple of computers to the side and a big projector illuminating the other side of the room.

"This hasn't changed much in the last ten years," I add, shooting a glance at Marcello. I'd been a fixture in his house due to our parents' friendship, and I'd been here more times than I could count.

"At least you dusted it off before you called us here," I swipe my hand on the table, noting it's clean.

"Vlad," Sisi pokes my arm, "stop antagonizing people," she mumbles, shaking her head.

Shrugging, I just take a seat at the table, watching attentively as Sisi does so as well, so I can pull her chairrightnext to mine.

As the others take their seats as well, I turn to Bianca.

"How come you're here? Isn't your contract expiring in a few months?" I raise an eyebrow.

I'd gone through a lot of trouble to get her a job with some connections in Russia and I hope she's not slacking, since that would reflect badly on me. And with my reputation already in tatters around the country, I don't need that abroad too.

"We're here to help, you idiot." She rolls her eyes at me, her hand going to her belly, and stroking what I realize is a rather large bump.

My eyes widen.

Now that's something I would have never expected of Bianca.

"She's four months pregnant," Adrian explains, "so she's taking it easy with the assignments. But when Marcello called to tell us about your situation, she insisted on coming here," he adds dryly.

Adrian and I had never gotten along, mostly because he's always been jealous of my friendship with his wife. I don't know why he would be, though, since I've made it clear to him that Bianca's never been on my radar as a woman, or anything really except my partner in arms.

But somehow he got it into his head that I was a threat, and he's never stopped being a pain in the ass about it.

"Why, Hastings, I must say I am impressed," I jibe, "already," I glance at my watch, "thirty minutes and you haven't insulted me. We might become best friends yet."

"As if," he snorts, "you have a better chance of becoming a canonized saint," he mutters under his breath.

"Wouldn't be too hard," I shrug when I note Sisi's small smile. "I'd just make sure to become mummified after death. You'd do that for me, wouldn't you, hell girl?" I murmur softly, leaning into her and inhaling her fresh scent.

She turns so that only her profile is visible.

"Only if I get to join you," she answers saucily, "we'd be two mummies," her voice is breathy as fuck and damn if my cock doesn't jump in my pants at that sexy sound, "wrapped in each other and ready for the afterlife."

"Fuck, Sisi," I groan.

"Ew," Bianca's voice puts a damper on my growing erection. "I see now why you're with her," she says before she points at Sisi, "or whyyou'rewith him." She shakes her head, disgusted.

"Can we drop the odd morbidities," Marcello says, massaging his temples with his fingers and looking completely done with us. Catalina, on the other hand, seems a bit more receptive to our relationship as she sends a comforting smile to Sisi.

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