Page 83 of Hostile Bond
“I love you…” It leaves my mouth in a tattered moan. “… so much.”
After my declaration explodes, I hear his own confession burn in my ears behind the storm of his violent release. “I’ve always fucking loved you, Sin.”
EPILOGUE
SINÉAD
Sean’s ashes were scattered in the icy Irish wind across an emerald field within the Hennessy Estate. Mick had tipped out the fine gray powder after giving a speech in honor of his heroic son and watched as the gust carried it in a demon-like swirl before settling within tufts of grass.
Men I’d never seen before paid their respects, while I embraced the satisfaction of justice. I couldn’t suppress the waspish anger festering under my skin, or the sting of sorrow brought on by Mammy’s soul trapped in a golden urn in our bedroom, her ashes waiting on an ideal location for me to finally set them free.
As Dré’s grandfather had begun with a Catholic prayer, my husband snaked his arm around my waist. He’d kept it there during the whole ordeal, supporting me with his strength and something more meaningful than mere words could ever depict.
Our cherished bond.
I am his.
And there’s no denying it.
His family will never question it.
The ghosts of slayed souls will have to accept it.
Once we’d moved indoors, I left André to spend time with his relatives, made my excuses, and went back to the sanctuary of our suite––my lavish prison. The Hennessys don’t need to know I’m feeling more like myself again, even if it’s a new version of the old me. I’m a loyal wife, a terrified soon-to-be mother, and in a couple of days, I’d be heading the Sapori organization.
My tears have dried. I’ve accepted my path—the adventures yet to come—and with André, anything is possible for the future.
A few hours later and I’m swaddled in a huge bath towel, my hair freshly washed and dried, lounging upon the four-poster bed with the television on in the background. From the bedside table, my new phone glows with an incoming call.
“How can I help you, Hotshot?” I smirk.
“Go to the window.”
“Naked or wearing a towel?”
“Naked, of course,” he replies, the tone of his accent thick and seductive.
My heartbeat skips. Holding the phone to my ear, I slip off the bed, drop the towel, and prance barefoot to the wooden framed window, pressing my forehead against the glass.
And there he is. The sweet boy I’d adored as a kid, now a brutal drug lord with mafia blood––and he owns my heart.
I suck in sharply, the wild flutters in my chest exploding. He’s staring up at me from the gravel, straddling a mud-splattered dirt bike with a halo of dusk kissing the circumference of his body. A leather biker jacket is zipped up the front of his chest to ward off the cold and his taut legs are clad in dark denim. The wind catches in his pitch-black hair, tousling the lengths so it hangs over his tanned brow.
The crazy off-beat rhythm of my pulse gallops, and I almost squeal because he’s so utterly sexy. A pomegranate haze softens every single breathtaking part of his swarthy features.
I’m spellbound, trapping my breath as he stares up at me. “Wanna go on an adventure, Sin?” His Latino baritone rumbles across the phone line.
My stomach quivers at the sexy sound mixed with the sight of such a dangerous man. A dark knight waiting for his girl on a limited-edition motorcycle that suits his persona perfectly.
As much as he demands control, he returns that power with pleasure and equality. He doesn’t view me as a little wife who sits as a fuckable ornament in the background. Instead, he lets me spread my wings to soar above the world as a Souza goddess.
And I accept him for the wild creature that he is, and the devoted husband he’s become.
I ache to kiss him, but the unfair distance between us blocks my urges. “Are we leaving the Estate?” My palm rests on the windowpane, the silent act willfully wishing it could penetrate glass and air to reach him.
“You’ll see. Now come down here before it gets too dark and the zombies crawl out of the ground,” he chuckles playfully, reminding me of our silly games decades ago.
“Promise you’ll bite me if they turn you first?”
