Page 50 of Finn

Alessia walks out of the gym, sweaty and beautiful, and I swear my heart skips a beat when she greets me with a wide smile.

“Who was on the phone?”

“Eoghan. I told him we’d make it to church and Sunday brunch this week.”

“That kind of makes it official, then.”

“I think our wedding made it official, but it would be a good idea to show our faces in public, aside from the casino. Plus, Eoghan inferred that my mother thinks I’m holding you here against your will or something.” I roll my eyes and Alessia laughs, walking up to me and running a hand through my hair before tilting her head up for a kiss.

“Maybe I’m the one holding you here to be my sex slave,” she purrs just before she bites my lower lip.

I growl and lift her, allowing her legs to wrap around my body. “I’ll let you tell her that one.”

Alessia lets out a bark of laughter. “I most certainly will not.”

When I head to the staircase, she pulls back from where her lips had been trailing wet kisses up and down my neck.

“I thought we were going for a run after the gym?”

Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, I take her mouth in a bruising kiss. “I think I have a better idea to get some cardio in that doesn’t involve running. Or clothes.”

The casino is quieter tonight than it has been since word got out about Alessia being the new host. Don’t get me wrong, we’re still busy, always are and hopefully always will be, but it’s a manageable pace tonight. People are curious to see my wife in the flesh, wanting to catch a glimpse of the Italian Mafia princess I married. Doesn’t bother me in the least. If their curiosity puts money in my pocket, who am I to argue?

“Boss, I think there might be a problem,” one of our security guys says. This is the first night Alessia’s been on the floor without Enzo being here. His niece was celebrating her seventh birthday, so my wife insisted he have the night off. I gave one of my other guards the sole task of watching Alessia, but she doesn’t like anyone crowding her when she’s working the floor. Says it makes her seem unapproachable when she’s trying to attend to our guests. There haven’t been any issues since she started. Everyone’s been respectful, but I have a sinking feeling that’s going to end tonight.

I pull up the camera feed on my computer and quickly find my wife. She’s talking to a man who I recognize as the son of a guy my father did business with years ago. If memory serves, he runs a couple brothels. Not as high end as the ones my organization has, but he makes a pretty penny. He’d have to in order to afford the membership here.

Alessia is wearing that don’t fuck with me look and the guy has a sneer stamped across his face. Her guard tries to intervene, but she shakes her head in his direction, so he takes a step back.

I grab my jacket from the back of my chair and put it on, heading to the casino floor.

“I told you I wanted Tatiana tonight. If she’s not here, then call her in,” I hear him say loudly as I cross the room. Others are beginning to notice his drunken behavior and they spot me quickly walking to where the scene is playing out before averting their eyes. Everyone knows I don’t tolerate disruptions like this in my establishment, but every once in a while, someone likes to test me. With Alessia involved, I’m less likely than ever to handle this gently.

“And I told you, she’s unavailable this evening, and that’s not going to change, no matter how much money you try to throw at me or how loud your voice gets.”

Alessia looks as though she would love nothing more than to knock this prick on his ass. If he keeps it up, I might let her.

She’s obviously had enough and turns to one of the security guards waiting in the wings, signaling for him to remove the asshole in front of her from the premises.

He grabs her arm, and I see fucking red. “Listen here, you Italian whore—”

I get there before he has a chance to finish his statement, fury coursing through me when I grab the back of his head and slam it into the bar he’s sitting at. I yank his head back up as blood drips from his broken nose and wrench his face toward mine.

“Hello, Rick. I believe you’ve met my wife.”

Fear blazes through his eyes when he realizes the trouble he’s just found himself in. I bash his head into the bar again, cutting his forehead when it slams into his glass. When I yank it up, I turn him to Alessia.

“Apologize,” I bark at him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“Not loud enough. I want some feeling behind it, Rick. And you’ll call her by her name.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Monaghan.”

Alessia quirks a brow and stares Rick in the face. “Thank you, but I have a feeling you haven’t even begun to be sorry.”

She flicks her gaze to me and tilts her lip in a private smile.

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