Page 68 of Unholy Union
My lashes flutter, peeking slightly.
He’s shirtless, in only his gray sweatpants like he normally is before bed. In the dim lighting, his lean muscular build looks undeniably sexy. I can smell his soap, the clean and zesty notes of bergamot and cedar more than familiar by now.
So many other things about him have become that way, right down to his before bed rituals, like how he double checks his alarm or sleeps with the window cracked open.
But as he crosses over to his side of the bed all I can think about is how I’ve finally taken my life into my own hands.
Cato climbs into bed beside me, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off his skin. He turns off the last light in the room and darkness settles over the entire space.
I remain still, my face calm and blank as if I’ve been asleep this entire time.
But on the inside, I’m smiling.
I won’t be his wife much longer.
Chapter 15
Cato
Cruise - Kygo featuring Andrew Jackson
Legally, Valente Luxura is thriving. Our access to the resources Corsini Construction provides has only benefited us. It’s boosted our quarterly projections, smoothed out overseas shipments, and allowed us to court even more clientele.
Illegally? We’ve flipped two of Corsini’s board members and we’re closing in on a third. Slowly—methodically—we’re gutting them from the inside out through various methods. Everything from the bribery to sabotage in the media (Cassian really does get that hit piece to run in theTimes) to the stock we’re buying up using our shell company, Argento Holdings.
But all progress took a backseat the moment Sabrina got caught in somebody’s crossfire. Whoever pulled that trigger might’ve missed, but they’ve made my list.
And I don’t forget names.
The bastard had the balls to shoot a bullet near my wife’s head. Love her or hate her, I’ll never tolerate anybody ever fucking hurting her.
It’s a Friday afternoon when I stride into the Gotham Club on East 50thand find Cassian and Lazaro already waiting for me. I’ve asked both to meet me for drinks, somewhere far enough away from Valente Luxura headquarters and Papà’s main offices.
Things between me and my father are still strained—not that we’ve ever been close enough for it to show. I’m his favorite child and have been groomed to follow in his footsteps, but even with that, Papà has always kept himself at a distance.
He’s made it clear it’s strictlyfamily business.
Nothing to do with real human feelings.
He disapproves of how I’ve been handling my marriage, believing Sabrina’s another asset to be leveraged and investigating the shooting is a waste of time.
I’ve had enough of his lectures and have started outright ignoring him.
“Amaro on the rocks,” I say, snapping my fingers at the server.
It’s a petite redhead in the usual club uniform of a suit, except for women the pants are a skirt. She gives a fervent nod, then scurries off to go collect my drink.
On an afternoon like today, the moodily lit club is almost empty. Which is part of what makes it the perfect place to meet up.
“Welcome back,” I greet Lazaro, collapsing into the third leather armchair. “How are you holding up?”
Lazaro shrugs his broad shoulders. “Still breathing. That’s what counts.”
“And already guzzling down rye whiskey,” Cassian adds with a lopsided grin. “He’s on his third.”
“Then you’re ready to get back to work.”
“I was ready coming out of surgery,” Lazaro says dryly. “The prick who shot me got away. Which means unfinished business.”
