Page 123 of Runaway in the Mafia
Her face was acid. Scrunched in disapproval. I struggled to fathom how a woman could bring down her own daughter. No wonder Ahana came alive under Mamma’s obsessive care.
“Vitale, stop,” Ahana pleaded.
“I’ll stop. For now.” I pointed my knife at her mother. “Don’t fucking test my patience again.”
The table hummed with anxiety. I couldn’t give a shit about it anymore. Keeping up appearances, my ass. If they were family, they’d better get to know me fast. I dipped my finger into my wife’s saree-clad waist and pulled her to me, the chair scraping on the floor as she came to me. My hand graced her heated cheek softly before I brought my arm to rest on the back of her chair. Shielding her. Protecting her.
If I was going to break the rules, I was going to do it with style.
And of course, my wife read my intentions. Suddenly, she was in a hurry. She couldn’t get us out of the door fast enough. Skipping dessert because she was full. I had another type of dessert in mind, anyway. The one that could only be served on top of a bed or in the back of a car.
“Let’s go,” she pulled at my hand insistently at the threshold of her parents’ door frame.
“Let me just hug your mum goodbye.”
“We don’t—” I strode past her and lifted her mother off the floor. Her breath left her in a sharp gasp as I squeezed her tightly in my arms. “You’re fucking lucky. The last man who disrespected my wife ended up with a knife in his windpipe.” I stepped back and glared at her gob-smacked face. “I don’t like to see her unhappy. That’s the only reason you’re not joining him. Do me a favour and remember.”
Tension strummedin the back of the car. Mine was sexual. Hers was agitation. She was on her side. I kept to mine. Unease mixed with heat and whirled in the car. Her father’s driver in front shifted from it.
The tail of her saree rested between us. And as usual, it tempted me like an invitation on a silver platter. I walked my fingers to it and pulled gently.
“Stop it,” she snapped.
I ignored her and yanked till she fell onto my side. She sat up with a huff of anger and pulled back to her side. “Just three things.” Frustration carved on her face.
“Three things too many,” I growled.
“That’s all I asked.”
“Ask me something else. For my wealth. My life.” I pulled her in again and wrapped my arm around her. “But. I. Will. Never. Ever. Let. Anyone. Disrespect. You.Capisci?”
She didn’t answer. But didn’t escape me again either. We stayed like that in silence until we reached the hotel.
“Do you need me, sir?”
Ahana didn’t hang around for my answer and slipped out of the car.
“Not until tomorrow morning. Eight a.m. on the dot to take us to the airport.”
“Yes, sir.”
I stepped out and hurried after her. I’d never been happier to leave here, even if it was to go to New York. Fuck, I’d take a wedding any day over insults at my wife.
She was walking through the high-ceilinged, ornate marble hall, a trail of ogling eyes following her path. Both male and female.Fuck’s sake.I caught up to her and rested my palm on her naked lower back. I couldn’t let the woman out of my sight for one second before a man wanted to eat her up.
The elevator slid open with a soft swoosh. She scuttled to one corner of it, and I walked to the other. A man in a kurta top and jeans made to follow us. I scowled, and he backtracked immediately. The door swept shut, and we shot up.
I shed my coat and loosened my tie, my eyes half lidded and lazy on her.
She cocked one brow. “What’re you doing?”
“Saving time.”
“To do what, exactly?”
I shrugged. “In the mood for a nap.”
She turned her face, but I caught her smile reflected in the mirror. “You’re going to take a nap? Mid-afternoon?”
