Page 40 of Forbidden Devotion

I wouldn’t just have him to protect me, I’d have his whole family and all of their combined might.

They would never ask me to pay them back for the protection either since this was all their fault. As Cosa Nostra, they had strict rules about keeping civilians out of the family business as much as possible, and they had broken that when they accidentally threw me right in the middle of this turf war. According to Rich, it was their duty to protect me until they eliminated the threat.

Jen had enthusiastically agreed on that point, at least.

Then she pointed out that the problem came from inside the Marino house, so it didn’t seem as safe as Rich purported. Richard’s jaw clenched, but he did acknowledge the truth in that. However, the guards were unable to actually enter the house—all the entrances and exits used dual fingerprint and facial recognition, on top of requiring an entry code, and since the betrayal came to light, everyone who wasn’t immediate family had been taken off of the permissions list. Not even the consigliere could get in.

Finally, Jen relented, aided by the fact that I chipped in with my two cents and agreed that the Marino estate was the most secure option.

Jen clearly wasn’t happy about it, but she knew she couldn’t argue any further. “As soon as I get back,” she said, “you’re letting me into your house.” Richard agreed.

I don’t know what surprised me more, the fact that she demanded access to one of the most secure facilities I’d ever heard of like it was her birthright or the way that Richard immediately allowed it.

We got to the hospital, and Jen made me promise to call her as soon as I was out, and then again when I was settled in the Marino estate before hanging up.

The doctor went through all the usual head trauma rigmarole, including a CT scan, while Rich called his family to inform them of everything that had happened.

By the time I was announced free and clear, miraculously without concussion and only requiring a little bit of suture glue instead of actual stitches, everything was set up for my arrival at the estate. I didn’t care as long as I could get some fucking sleep.

That thought flew right out of my head when we rolled through the automated gates. My jaw dropped at what met me.

I wasn’t sure what I’d thought the word ‘estate’ meant, but “multiple acres of land, including water access and a pier, several four and five car garages, and a mansion with actual wings” hadn’t been it.

I’d never seen a house this size, imposing and impeccable, laid with gorgeous stonework and consisting of at least 7,000 square feet.

My eyes could have fallen out of my head just at the exterior, let alone the landscaping. How much did this cost to heat? How the hell did they keep it clean? Did they even use all those rooms?

Richard pulled into one of the garages and parked, not even glancing at the fucking Lamborghini sitting next to us as he hopped out. I was still dazed, my head absolutely swimming as I realized just how vastly different our lives were. My guardian had been relatively wealthy, but this was… this was something else.

Richard, and his whole family, as far as my interactions had told me, didn’t seem to fit the scene. They were just too genuine. They weren’t nearly as out of touch as this kind of wealth should make them.

Maybe it was a result of being so entrenched in the criminal scene. They knew the dirty underbelly of society better than most people on the street, let alone the people holed up in their multimillion-dollar homes sipping champagne. They knew exactly how cruel the world was. They used it to their advantage.

I was still reeling when Richard popped my car door open, offering his hand with a goofy smile. My heart constricted. How had he grown up like this and still become so sweet?

Ha. A mafioso with a skewed moral compass, known for lying, murder, and extortion, and prepared to keep that legacy alive, being called sweet? It was a good thing my definition of sweet and good was just as fucked up as his.

I took his hand and let him help me from the car, giving him a shaky little smile of my own. Everything that had happened today was starting to hit me, and I couldn’t say I wasn’t holding off a bit of an emotional breakdown.

“Come on,” he murmured, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as he led me out of the garage. “Let’s get some food in you and get you to bed, yeah?” I leaned subconsciously into him, exhaustion starting to weigh on my bones.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

Mrs. Marino didn't even wait until I was inside to surprise me with a strong hug, hurrying down the front steps as soon as she saw us approaching, with all the protective care I had imagined growing up. Her grip was firm despite her little size. The embrace lasted only a second before she drew away, keeping her grip on my arms and searching me from foot to forehead with piercing eyes. She was looking for injuries, I could tell. Her eyes stayed on the cut on my forehead for just a second too long, and a storm formed in her eyes.

“Inside,” she commanded once she deemed me capable of walking on my own. No matter that I had just been seen at the hospital, with no expense spared to ensure my health, or that she had seen me walking up the driveway with her own two eyes. “I’ve already got some lentils reheating—nothing like lentils after a hard day, hm?”

Was this what mothers were like? It was surreal.

“Thank you,” I said automatically, feeling pleasantly out of my depth. I couldn’t believe this woman I’d met all of twice was clucking over me like she’d given birth to me herself. “I really appreciate you taking me into your home. I hope I’m not intruding—” Mrs. Marino scoffed, holding my elbow as she led me up the front steps. Mr. Marino stood at the top, and Richard stuck close to my other side.

“Really?” Mrs. Marino asked, giving me a look. “We owe you, Lauren, and Marinos always pay their debts.”

I opened my mouth to point out that they had paid me, but I closed it again before I bothered making a sound. That wasn’t what she meant, and even I knew it.

“Exactly,” Richard said. Ahead of us, Mr. Marino opened the door for us.

“Welcome, Miss Kylin,” he nodded.

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