Page 20 of Stolen Bride for the Don

I nod in response. “Kinda like when I turn off my phone if I plan to miss a Sunday dinner at home. I have no choice but to go if either of my parents call me, but it’s another thing entirely if they can’t get a hold of me.”

“Exactly.”

“Wait. Does that mean that this is a life sentence?” My jaw drops. I’ve given a lot of thought to my marriage, especially since my brothers have found their significant others. Not once did I ever think I’d be kidnapped to marry a mob boss.

The reason I left Beaufort Construction behind to start my bar is because I didn’t want to be involved in a life of crime, no matter how mild. Crime is still crime. Not that I’m so deluded to think that my brothers haven’t snuffed out a life before; but still nothing they did could ever be as bad as the fucking mafia.

He pauses for a moment before answering, “I don’t want to be shackled into a lifetime of having to watch my back because my wife might be plotting to kill me, either.”

His response gives me pause. It’s not a direct yes or no, but what other wife would be plotting to kill him except for the one he had kidnapped? “You don’t have a habit of kidnapping women and threatening them to marry you, do you?”

His amused laughter reassures me a little more than necessary. I shake my head. It's crazy to feel relieved that I’m his first stolen bride.

“Trust me, I don’t go around kidnapping women. You’re the first.”

“Good for you,” I snap. “Now, back to the rules. How long do you expect this marriage to last?”

“A year?” He shrugs.

“A year!” I jump to my feet and as my thighs rub against each other. I’m reminded of the mess between my legs. My face starts to heat up. “Do you have a restroom here? I need to pee,” I lie.

He points at a door and I rush to it. I lock it behind me, then face the medium-size bathroom. There’s a shower, toilet, and a single sink with an oval mirror above it.

I take off my pants, then my panties. After cleaning myself quickly with a wad of toilet paper, I consider tossing my panties in the toilet with it. It likely won’t flush. I sigh, then roll them up and tuck them into my pocket. I pull my pants back on, feeling a little weird going pantyless… but oh well. I flush the toilet and wash my hands in the sink. Feeling marginally better, I leave the bathroom.

“A year of marriage, don’t you think that’s too long?” I demand as I walk back to my chair.

“You think we can get away with a marriage of less than a year? In case you weren’t aware, marriage is something those of us in the mafia take very seriously. Then, after a year, you’ll go on holiday, where your car will explode and you will die.”

My heart skips a beat. “What?”

“There’s no divorce in the mafia.” Hudson flashes his teeth at me. I raise a hand to rub my temple, where a migraine is starting to make itself known. “Becoming a widower is my only option,” he asserts

“But they’re going to know me as Andrea Beaufort, aren’t they? So if I die–”

“Unfortunately, you will have to take on a new identity because you won’t be able to continue living as a dead woman, or you’ll likely find yourself truly dead.”

“This is starting to seem more and more unpleasant. There are way more cons than pros,” I complain. “I don’t think I can take much more of this.”

He shrugs. “What you can take depends on how much your brother’s life is worth to you.”

I stiffen, reminded of the reason I agreed to this in the first place. damn it, not only Ezra’s life would be at risk if his secret got out. Corner, meet Andrea, your new friend. My hands form fist at my sides.

CHAPTER 14

HUDSON

I hate the bitter feeling that settles in my gut when I threaten her, and I hate seeing her eyes go icy as she stiffens even more. “Andrea.” I don’t know what I would’ve said if she hadn’t interrupted me. It’s not as if I can take back the threats. That’s the only thing that’s making her consider my demands.

“Fine. We'll be married for a year, and then Andrea Beaufort dies a brutal death. Got it. What else?” She’s speaking the words I want to hear, but her eyes are screaming bloody murder. I guess this is the end of our brief reprieve? It’s for the best, though. I was starting to have this confused with something else.

“There are a few other points to discuss.” I pause to make sure that I have her attention since her gaze has moved to a point above my shoulder. After a few seconds, she frowns and makes an impatient gesture for me to continue.

“One, when in public, this is a love match; so whatever hate you harbor, you need to learn how to conceal it, and well.”

She scoffs, “There’s a flaw in that plan, genius. The fifty-five men you have on this property know that I’m your kidnap victim.” She makes air quotes with her fingers to emphasize the number we both know is exaggerated.

I ignore her and respond, “Only the people living in this mansion know you’re here against your will, and they know to keep their mouths shut. Besides, this isn’t the first time a captive falls in love with her captor; so they might be convinced that’s what happened.”

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