Page 54 of The Mafia's Bride
When she brings our hands back down, she sees the wedding band on my ring finger.
She makes a disgusted face at the physical evidence of my marriage. “Eck. You should really get rid of that.”
I take back my hand, strangely protective of it. It’s the first piece of jewelry given to me that wasforme. Not a piece to be flaunted by my father. “I will. When I divorce him.”
I don’t mention how the weight is a safety blanket, a comfort even now while I’m furious at him for his cold dismissal. How lonely I felt when he didn’t stay the night.
I hate how dependent I’m becoming of him. I’m sure this is just his plan to make me stay, to be his, by way of missing him.
Danica’s glossy lips screw up into a grimace. “Here, I’ll make it easy for you. Watch.”
She grabs the ring, twisting it down. A sharp stinging jabs me on three sides, pain erupting across my digit. I shout, looking to my hand. “Ow! No, wait. Jesus, what was that?”
We both scan my hand, turning our backs to the crowd waiting to enter the club so as to hide. Three deep red lines are cut deep into my finger, tiny needles stopping the ring for moving past my first knuckle.
“Fucking bastard,” I growl, pushing the ring back down. Thankfully it goes without pain, the tiny knives retracting. It’ll go down but not up.Clever.
Danica whistles loudly. “That boy isn’t playing games with you.”
“You could havenotpulled it.” My poor finger looks like it lost a battle with a wood chipper. Blood is dripping off my nail, blending in with the nail polish, splattering on the cement.
“How was I to know he was a sick fuck who boobytrapped a wedding ring?”
Glaring at her, she tucks a red curl behind my shoulder to comfort. “Come on, dear. Let’s get inside and get you a napkin. And a few drinks. That’ll take care of the pain.”
The club itself is more of an open warehouse, with the far endwall gone and facing the water. I can smell the salt, thankful that the air is turning warmer every day. Soon summer will be here, and the harbor will be an unpleasant mix of old seaweed and expensive wines with a hint of charred ashes in the air.
Right now, it smells like various liquors and the competing scents of a dozen different colognes. And sweat. A lot of sweat.
The lights overhead are dimmed to nothing more than a shadow and the bodies pressed together are making perspiration break out under my heavy curtain of red curls. I don’t have to dance, and I’ll be drenched just from the amount of people in here.
Danica orders for us over the heavy techno music. A lemon drop shot first, followed by pink cosmos.Because why not?
I grab a few napkins, wrapping my finger, putting pressure right on the cuts. The napkins are soaked right away.
“So how’s married life?”
“Not at all what I expected.” I sigh, gesturing for another shot to the bartender, changing out the makeshift bandage. The throbbing pain is radiating over my finger, and I’ll need more alcohol to dull this. “It’s hard.”
“Hard?” Her blue eyes glint with interest. “Well, if marriage was easy, we’d all do it. Hell, I can barely keep a man longer than three months. Then things get messy.”
I snort, taking the shot without a face. “Right. Because you’re not messy.”
“Oh, I am. Just only one of us is allowed to be messy and since I hold that title, I refuse to share. He usually doesn’t feel the same.” She shrugs, looking over the dance floor.
The music changes, and I can feel the beat in my chest, body rocking subconsciously.
“Getting along with the new in-laws?”
I shrug. “Sort of. They’re nice, but we don’t really sit down to talk.”
I’m not exactly sure what he’ll do now that I’ve actively gone against his order. Lex is unpredictable and dangerous. A normal manwould be running away from me at this point in the relationship—but not Lex. He’s enjoying my fight and that throws me off.
I have to play my next steps carefully if I want to end this arrangement.
“Sounds like bliss.” She sighs, tugging the powder blue wrap dress down lower, exposing her small cleavage. “Don’t have to talk to the in-laws, don’t have to listen to their criticism. Other than a death ring, you’re in marriage heaven.”
Rolling my eyes, I take a third shot, not bothering to correct her. It’d be pointless to try.
