Page 31 of Finn

“I’ve never worked in my father’s casinos. I don’t know the first thing about it.”

“No, but I’ve seen you be friendly and charming when you want to be. And I don’t have to worry about you stealing from me.”

I mull over his offer. It would give me something to do, and it beats the hell out of being home alone and bored every night.

“I’ll think about it,” I reply.

Finn nods. “Okay.”

There's a beat of awkward silence in the kitchen now that both of our tempers have fizzled out.

I put the ice on the counter and look Finn in the eye. “Thanks for the ice pack and the job offer.”

He nods but doesn’t say anything. The air between us is charged, and I’m still a frazzled jumble of emotions.

I turn to leave the kitchen, but before I reach the doorway, he calls after me.

“That was a good punch. You didn’t drop your shoulder.”

I chuckle and turn my head.

“I guess you knew what you were talking about earlier after all.”

Finn shrugs with a boyish grin. It’s not one I’ve seen before, and goddammit if it doesn’t do some very inconvenient and unwanted things to my body.

Fuck.

I think I want to sleep with my husband.

Chapter nine

Finn

Being that close to Alessia while she read me the riot act to make sure I knew where she stood in this marriage had my blood pumping more than any fight ever has. She was completely off base with her assumptions about me and other women or what I expect of her out of this marriage, but the fact she fought so hard with me about it sent heated thrills through my body. And when she punched that woman who was trying to fuss all over me after she saw the state my hand was in? Fuck, it was all I could do not to throw her over my shoulder and lock us in the dressing room of that fucking basement.

The thirty seconds it took me to put my clothes back on before getting in my car and driving to our house was hell with the hard-on I was sporting. Over the last few weeks, she’s been a very polite ghost at home, but tonight she was the goddamn firecracker I saw glimpses of before our wedding. It was intoxicating.

Now I’m standing in my kitchen, nursing a whiskey, and trying like hell to convince myself it’s not the right time to go upstairs and break her damn door down.

I’m so fucked.

I pull out my phone to text Cillian about the change in casino employment. It will take the task from him and give him more time to focus on other things I need, like finding Carlo Cataldi and also making sure things run smoothly at the docks. Alessia was never going to be happy staying home and doing nothing with her days and nights, but I didn’t know what the hell to do with her. It’s not like I’ve ever had a wife to deal with.

Me: Alessia is taking over as casino host.

I see the three dots pop up on and then off the screen a few times before he finally sends his reply.

Cillian: If that’s what you think is best.

I don’t bother responding because regardless of what he thinks or whether I think it’s what’s best, it’s what’s going to happen. Obviously, the idea of her being at the casino around men who are drinking heavily and used to getting whatever they want isn’t where I’d prefer her to be, but it’s the safest option within my organization. It’s heavily guarded, and I’ll probably add a few more just to make myself feel better. It’s not like I could have her out running the docks. Actually, she’d probably handle business like a boss down there and bust the skulls of anyone who dared to question her.

I laugh at the vision of her punching that woman again. Yeah, she’d have no problem getting everyone in line, especially with the weight of my organization and her father’s behind her.

And the blood is rushing to my cock again.

I’m not going to lie. It’s a little odd for me to find my wife’s violent nature the absolute fucking turn-on that I do. I always thought I needed someone soft, someone to smooth my sharp edges. I was sure as shit wrong about that. Alessia’s fire gets my blood heated faster and hotter than the thought of any other woman.

And that’s a problem.

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