Page 27 of Captured By the Mafia Boss
I start to ask what he’s going to do, but he shakes his head.
“How long?”
“I don’t know. But I’ll be back. I promise.” He presses a hard kiss to my mouth, then releases me with a little push. I watch him go. To clean up.
It’s two days before the news shows footage of a helicopter crash. Three dead.
Ethan King.
Tears fill my eyes.
Henry Junior.
My heart thumps.
An image of me from a couple of years ago flashes on screen. Olivia Porter.
There are accompanying images of burning wreckage of the helicopter I’ve been in with King. They say my death is thought to be an accident, and Henry was avenging his father’s death by murdering King.
I’m still staring at the unthinkable—I’m officially dead—again—when there’s a knock on the door.
I rush and it’s only when I remember King’s words that I pause.
“Who is it?”
A barely restrained growl of impatience.
I throw open the door and King is on me, crushing me in his arms.
The relief is visceral. Like a waterfall or a tide, and I’m powerless against it. I should ask questions about what happened, but I pull him to the bedroom and within minutes he’s thrusting inside me, covering me, both our desperation overcoming any common sense.
Anything to put off the reality I’ll have to deal with: both of us returning to separate lives.
Hours later, we’re in bed, temporarily sated. King won’t tell me what he did.
“What now?” I ask, though I would love to remain here, in King’s house and in his arms.
King smiles sadly and drags over the coat I stripped from his body when he arrived.
He gives me a passport, and flipping it open, I see my new name.
Olivia Kingston.
“Do you have one too? With the same surname?”
It’s a sheer guess, but he nods slowly, uncertainty in his gaze.
“You could walk back into London with a different name and take up your position in Camden,” I murmur, realising the power of what he’s done.But he gave mehis name. It’s there in black and white, the proof I belong to him, whatever happens.
“I could,” he agrees. “We’re both free to do whatever we want, now.”
And maybe he didn’t mean this new name to bind me to him, but I can’t help but think this meant something to him too.
“Don’t leave.” I throw out the request like a bullet.
King raises his eyebrows.
“No one knows we’re here. Don’t return to Camden. We can stay. We share a name; be my husband.”
