Page 99 of The Mafia's Bride
Maybe Collins was right. Everything they did, everything they do, is for me.
A warm hand on my shoulder has me pivoting, ready to come face to face with my absent husband. I have the urge to throw my hands around him, sink into his amber and spicy scent, let his strong hands carry me away and to also give him a strong tongue lashing for being late.
Only it’s not him. It’s Dom.
He smiles wide, corners of his mouth crinkling as his mud brown eyes flicker with an emotion I’ve never seen before. Lust.
I shift. That’s not something I want to see on a cousin’s face.
Stepping back, I try to keep a barrier between us. He’s dressed to impress, his dark suit from my wedding catching the lights overhead, his form filling it out. I’m all for recycling fashion but it’s too much for an auction.
He raises the signature drink up high, his fingers biting into the sides of the glass with too much strength. He’s holding himself back. “Thought you might need one.”
I smile gratefully, trying to shake off the unease. Something about this doesn’t feel right, but it could be nerves.
Smiling softly, I take the glass.
39
LEX
Rushing into the space, I barely miss colliding with my twin cousins, Marla and Girade, swinging last minute into the hall.
The overwhelming scent of booze and perfume is high, and I have to push further inside the convention hall, through thongs of guests, soft musical notes ringing in my ears.
The event is going off without a hitch with people pouring out the doors, toting along large canvas bags full of priceless items of various designers and backgrounds.
I know how hard Sloane worked on this. Between gun training and dealing with life, she threw herself into this project, finding a spark I long suspected was there under the surface. She just needed someone to believe in her, allow her the grace to create and make mistakes.
She fucking shines now.
She’s also going to kill me. My perfect, fiery wife expected me hours ago. I’ve got a string of texts from her and Maria asking where I am, with Nico throwing in the occasional praise for her talents.
I’m jealous I wasn’t here at the start of this event, but I’m certainly going to be here at the end. Like I always will be. I’ll earn her forgivenesswith my tongue and her claw marks in my back, my apologies whispered into her ear where only she can have them.
Entering the main lobby, I veer off to the right, where a long bar sits. Most of the hot ticketed items are gone but there are few purses, suitcases, and three pairs of heels to auction off. Sloane priced everything so well that the auction gathered close to a million dollars for the local hospital.
Again, another update from Nico. You’d think she was now his daughter with the way he’s constantly in her corner.
Pride warms my heart at my mentor falling in love with my wife like I have. She’s the only reason this event took off, she’s the only reason I feel this lightness in my chest and love blooming in my cold heart.
Love for a woman with a fiery tongue and unbreakable resolve. She’s even bounced back from the mugging with more grace than I would have expected.
She’s strong, that woman. And she’s all mine.
At the bar, Killian sits with a glass of what seems to be a strong scotch. His pale face is pressed close to the edge of the glass, and though most of the liquor is gone, I can still catch the sharp scent of booze in the air. His black suit is tailored and silken, cut with precision. He looks like the gentlemen version of Death out on a night on the town, ready to collect souls who misbehave.
Sliding up to him, I order a whiskey. Although I want a signature drink, the sign on the bar says they’re sold out. One more thing Sloane thought of. Another thing to praise her for. Another extra talent that drew in the crowds.
I side-eye the reaper. He’s still on my shit list for his crap with this entire situation we find ourselves in. But I did hire him and need the last bit of his information.
If it’s what I think it is, I have to clean house. And now.
“Where’s Sloane?” I ask, sipping from my glass.
He’s hammered, it’s clear to see. But not in the obvious, obnoxious ways. His eyes are glassy, his killer instinct dulled behind the wall of intoxication.
I still think he can kill anyone in here, single handedly. Myself included. It just wouldn’t have the same style.
