Page 35 of Mafia Wedding

"You are that."

I have to quickly look away in case my resting bitch face fails me again, and I end up exposing the truth about my feelings.

Why is this man so good at disarming me?

Surely it's impossible for my husband to always be able to say the right things...without having feelings for me as well?

His fingers slowly comb through my hair, and I take a deep breath before lifting my head so I can make a face at him. "There's no need to butter me up," I grumble. "I'm already your wife."

His smile turns into a smirk. "That almost sounds like you want me to butter you up some more."

"Uh, no, it's not!"

Right?

Whatever.

"Didn't you say you wanted to talk to me about something?"

"I do."

"And?"

This is the part where my husband would usually start fucking with me (or fucking me if I'm lucky), but instead his handsome face turns grim.

"Kayra is very protective of you."

I look at him uncertainly. "Where is this going?"

"Helene's death might make her think we're better off divorcing."

I nearly fall out of the inflatable for real at his words. "What?"

"If that time comes, and it does seem that you're likely to stay safer with a divorce—-"

"Stop," I choke out.

I can't believe I've been blind all this time.

My husband's level of obsession has been medically diagnosed as potentially dangerous. It's the kind that may push him into killing someone he loves...rather than seeing that same person leave him.

And yet here he is, telling me that he'd rather give me my freedom...if keeping me by his side might put my life in danger.

You love me, don't you, husband?

Don't you?

Don't you?

I'm dying to say the words.

But since the tiniest part of me is still scared of being wrong and getting rejected—-

"Bailey?"

My husband's voice is sharp, and his body rigid as he feels me carefully inch down until I'm at eye level with his member.

You can do this, B!

---