Page 41 of Marrying the Mobster
Once we step into the bedroom, I lock the door and turn to face her, waiting for the bomb to drop.
Elena puts her hands on her hips and gives me a stare that would melt the flesh from my bones if looks could kill. “What … thefuck… was that?”
Her voice is low and raspy, but I can hear the fury simmering in the undertones.
“It’s exactly what I said it is. We’re getting married.”
Threading her fingers through her hair, Elena lets out a rough growl. “Are you out of your mind? This was not what we agreed on!”
I cross my arms and lean against the door. “It’s exactly what we agreed on. You belong to me now, and I do what I want with you. In exchange, you get to live.”
Elena starts pacing and shaking her head as if trying to wake up from a lucid dream. “You told me this was just an act to get Oleg off your back. You lied to me.”
“No, I simply changed my mind. I came to see that marrying you is the answer to all our problems.”
She uses one arm to swipe the contents of my nightstand to the floor. The glass Mariana filled for me shatters and water splashes the carpet. My pill bottles roll in different directions, and the watch I left there last night crashes against the wall.
“Ourproblems? This shit with Oleg is your mess, not mine!”
I push away from the door and reach for her. Elena slaps my hand away, causing the first crack in my calm demeanor. Stalking her across the room, I consider bending her over and spanking her again. Just the thought of her ass, bared by that scrap of a bikini and turned red with my handprints, makes my cock start to swell.
“There’s only one flaw in your logic,gatita. Because of our agreement, my problems are your problems. To keep up your end of the bargain, you need to continue being of use to me. Now, you’ll do it as a wife and not just a girlfriend.”
“So, if I refuse to go through with it, you’ll kill me. Is that what you’re saying?”
She’s screaming now, arms spread wide and eyes darting. She stops retreating, and when I get close enough, she shoves me. It isn’t enough to move me, so she snarls and slams her palm into my jaw. The blow doesn’t throw me as much as the look in her eyes—desperate and pained and terrified.
“I’ll allow that because you’re angry and entitled to your feelings,” I warn her. “But if you raise your hand to me again, your punishment in the bathhouse will seem like child’s play compared to what I’ll do to you.”
“Fuck you!” she bellows. “I won’t do it. Do you hear me? I would rather die than marry you, so if that’s how it has to be then let’s get it over with.”
I go deathly still as she backs toward the nightstand again, this time reaching for the drawer. It’s where I keep one of my pistols and Elena knows that because she’s seen me stash it there every night before bed. A piece of glass sinks into the sole of her foot, but she doesn’t seem to notice as she offers the gun to me by its barrel.
“Elena,” I whisper, both fear and anger roiling through me at once. The fear isn’t for my own sake. It was clear the night she tried to escape that Elena had never used a gun. If she decides to turn it on me, she’d miss … but my .45 caliber Taurus Judge would kick so hard it would likely injure her delicate wrist. “Put down the gun.”
Tears fall down her cheeks, tanned bronze from her day in the sun. The lighter tones of brown in her eyes are brighter in contrast, glistening like warm honey. “No. Every time I do what you demand in exchange for my life, you change the requirements … you move the goalpost. You’ll keep doing it until there’s nothing left of me, and I can’t live like that. If it means I have to pay for it with my life, then let’s do this. Shoot me Diego. End this right now.”
I clench my jaw, my hands shaking as I try to calculate how fast I can get the pistol out of her hand before she accidentally fires it. “Stop this. I know you don’t want to die. You’re not thinking clearly. Put the gun down, and we’ll get some sleep and discuss this again in the morning.”
She barks a dry laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re not listening to me.”
“I am listening!” I shout, the last of my patience burning to bits. “You’re not making sense, Elena! You’ve spent two months fighting to stay alive, so I know you’re strong enough to handle this. It’s why I chose you. It’s why this will work. If you weren’t strong enough, you would have begged me to kill you weeks ago.”
“How the fuck would you know what I want? You didn’t ask me when you drugged me, or when you locked me in that room. You didn’t ask me what I wanted when you announced to dozens of strangers that we’re getting married! Now you care about what I want?”
“I know you want to survive. I know you want to get back to your boutique and your friends. Marrying me—”
“Kill me!” she screams, thrusting the gun closer to me. “Fucking do it!”
I strike without thinking or hesitating, clenching my fist around Elena’s wrist and twisting until she drops the gun with a sharp cry. I take hold of her other arm and yank her toward me. She bumps into my chest and tries to backpedal, but I tighten my hold and lean down until we’re nose-to-nose.
“I don’t want to kill you, goddamn it! I want to keep you!”
Elena goes still, staring up at me with confused, unfocused eyes. “You … you what?”
“I want you, Elena. I want you so badly it fucking hurts. I know you want me, too.”
“Wanting your cock doesn’t mean I want to marry you.”
