Page 99 of The Worst Pucking Deal

I know I should feel angry about the depth of her lies, but I can’t. Not when I know how much hinged on her relationship with me. It’s flattering, actually—in a fucked up way.

Although this is probably the entirely wrong thing to focus on, I can’t stop looking at how amazing my wife looks in the white toga. Instead of being loose, it’s form fitting and very revealing. It’s so long it hides her feet, but with a slit on the side that goes all the way up to her pussy. Luckily, it isn’t on display, or I’d have to punch Remus again.

It’s sleeveless, and adorned with gold jewelry near the neckline and shoulders. On the clasps are wolf heads that make it look like the wolf is biting into the fabric. No detail is accidental, and it shows. Lucia’s long, red hair hangs loose down her back, making it look like the toga is backless. And fuck me, now I’m hard. I’m hard while wearing a toga.

Unlike the one my sweet bunny is wearing, mine is short. Reaching just above my knees. It’s not as form fitting, but still tight enough it shows my muscles. Since I’m not a Russo, mine doesn’t have any gold or wolves on it, which I like.

Stepping off the jet, we are greeted by an impressive line of guards, each bowing respectfully to Remus and Lucia as they pass, a clear indication of the reverence and authority that Remus commands in this city.

“Why does Remus get to wear purple if we’re wearing white?” I ask when we’re inside the car taking us to the Senate.

“It’s tradition,” she says like that’s an explanation. When she notices my quizzical expression, she continues. “It’s the imperial color worn by the Head, or the Don, if you will. So, yeah, it shows his status.”

I suppose that makes sense, but since there’s nothing else to talk about, I ask, “Why does he need the color to show his importance? Don’t people know who he is?”

My sweet bunny gives me a wry smile. “The best place to hide is in plain sight. Many think they know Remus, but have only seen decoys. As far as I’m aware, only few here know what he actually looks like.”

As if on cue, Remus pulls a box out from under his seat. When he opens it, it reveals a white theater looking mask. A mask of deception, I think it’s called. Placing it on his face, he says, “The sheep don’t deserve to see the real face of the wolf. It just makes them complacent.”

Scoffing, I growl, “But you’re fine painting a target on Lucia by letting them see her?”

“It’s too late to hide her now. People have seen her for years before she made the deal with my dad.”

Taking my hand, my sweet bunny whispers, “He’s right, Sy. Besides, it’s to our advantage to keep them scared of Remus.”

I hear all too clear what she’s not saying; she’s expecting her cousin to save the day. But unlike her, I don’t have unwavering faith in him. I’ll admit, the more they told me on the plane, the more I understood how hard it is for Remus to navigate the Mafia empire. Upholding the laws and rules for all, without being able to favor those he actually cares about.

But just because I understand it doesn’t mean I forgive or condone it. He should make protecting Lucia a priority, and not use her to make an example.

As if sensing the change in my mood, my sweet bunny unbuckles her seat belt and crawls into my lap. I immediately wrap my arms around her, and turn her so her head is resting on my chest. No words are needed, we both know that this might be our last time together.

“If something happens, I want you to run away,” I murmur into her ear. “I texted Mickey on the flight, and he has… connections. He can help you, baby.”

She shakes her head. “I’m not going anywhere without you, Sy. You’re mine, my life. Now and always.”

A lump forms in my throat. “Now and always,” I promise. “But still—”

“No,” she hisses. “Stop that bullshit right now. We’re making it out alive. And if… if something happens to me, you need to take this.” She discreetly presses something into my hand. “Don’t look at it now. But it’s your safe passage. Having that means Remus himself owes you a favor and you can use it to bargain for your freedom.”

Her words piss me off, and I fail at keeping my voice low. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? I’m not leaving you, baby. We face this together.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No!” I roar. “Either we make it out together or we don’t make it out at all.”

Remus chuckles. “How very touching,” he observes. “Shame this is Rome and not Verona, otherwise it would be like a modern day Romeo and Juliet.”

I tighten my hold on my wife, reminding myself I can’t punch Remus when he has guards in here with us. One look at them, and I know they’d kill me before I could even reach him.

The thought of dying for Lucia, for my wife, doesn’t scare me. What scares me is her dying for me. I fucking refuse to live in a world where she doesn’t. Because life without her wouldn’t be living, it would be existing. Something I’ve already been doing all the years before I met her, and I know it’s something I can never go back to again.

My thoughts are interrupted by the car slowing down and coming to a stop. The guards file out, forming a protective circle. Then Remus gets out, and lastly, Lucia and I step out. “Damn,” I whistle, impressed when I realize where we are.

Not just Vatican City, but the very heart of it all, with the ancient buildings I’ve only seen on TV surrounding us. As I look around, I’m hit for the first time with the sheer magnitude of everything.

The things Lucia explained about her family seem more real, more dangerous now that we’re here. It’s no longer a far out possibility or story. As we walk down the paved path, it all becomes much more tangible.

My sweet bunny takes my hand, dragging me along as a guard opens a door at the side of one of the buildings. We’re outside of the tourist areas, so no one sees us descend into the darkness. With each step it becomes darker, but it doesn’t smell old or damp.

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