My world freezes and the air drains from my lungs as I stare at Romeo. Did he just saywife?
“Yes, wife,” Romeo answers. Apparently, I said that last thought out loud.
“Are you going to ask me?”
“What would be the point? I won’t accept no for an answer.”
This makes me giggle. He’s so serious, even when he’s being sweet and romantic.
“Well, then, I suppose it’s a good thing I love you and can’t wait to be your queen.”
Romeo’s eyes flash with satisfaction and possessiveness. “You’re already my queen,bella. You own me, body and soul. You alone have the power to destroy me.”
I cup his face in my hands, drawing him closer until he’s resting his forehead on mine. “Thank you for trusting me,” I whisper. “I won’t destroy you, Romeo. I only want to love you. Forever.”
“For fucking ever, angel,” he promises, giving me one last kiss before rolling over and tucking me into his side.
Romeo sighs contentedly, his breaths evening out until he’s sleeping soundly. I lie next to him, resting my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Every beat belongs to me. I make a silent promise to cherish it, then close my eyes, drifting off to sleep in the arms of my love.
EPILOGUE
ROMEO
“Call back when you have something of substance to tell me,” I growl over the phone before hanging up. Resting my elbows on my desk, I hold my head in my hands, hoping to ward off the headache that’s been threatening me all morning.
Before I can get too upset, my office door swings open, ushering in my bright, giggly, six-year-old daughter, Bailey.
“Daddy! Look what Mommy made for me!”
The dark cloud hanging over my head dissipates, and the darkness in my soul recedes into the background as I smile at my sweet girl. Her green eyes shine up at me, her laughter contagious.
I didn’t know how I would handle being a family man at the same time as being a ruthless mafia king, but from the moment I laid eyes on Thalia, my world and heart expanded to include her, whatever the costs. The same was true when I held Bailey for the first time and again with our three-year-old son, Clayton.
“Is that a new dress?” I ask, pushing away from my desk as she waltzes toward me.
“Yes!” Bailey squeals. “Sparkly!”
She spins, and I smile as I admire the crochet dress made with an array of pastel colors, as well as a strand of sparkly yarn for that added touch. My wife is so talented, and it works out perfectly to have Bailey and Clayton be the guinea pigs for her latest children’s clothing line.
Holding out my arms, I prepare for my daughter to launch herself into my lap. When she does, I spin around in my chair, laughing along with her.
“Beautiful, baby girl,” I tell her, meaning every word.
“So this one is a keeper, I take it?” Thalia says from the doorway of my office.
I look up, blown away every single time at her beauty. I don’t know how my wife has become more radiant in the eight years we’ve been married, but every time our eyes meet, I’m reminded of how gorgeous and precious she is.
“Yes!” Bailey shouts, making Thalia laugh.
“Sorry she burst in like that,” Thalia says as she steps further into the room.
“It’s no trouble,” I assure her. “I love my girls.”
“And me!” Clayton exclaims from under my desk.
“Where did you come from?” I ask in surprise. My son scrambles up from the floor, grinning from ear to ear.
“Secret!” he blurts out before skipping away and circling Thalia.