Page 69 of Wicked King

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Rossi, you have been quite hospitable.” Yéye squeezes my hand and turns to me. “My stay is nearly coming to an end, baobèi. I fear I may have already overstayed my welcome.”

“No, not at all!” I bite my tongue to keep from crying out, please don’t go!

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, Mr. Guo.” Marco offers a surprisingly pleasant smile.

“I’m certain I am no longer needed here.”

“You are!” I blurt. My grandfather has been covering the day to day running of the Four Seas in my absence, and now that it’s time to take the reins, the idea of it has anxiety churning in my gut. “We haven’t even found the person responsible for the shooting.”

Marco’s expression darkens, his jaw clenching so tight a tendon flutters across his cheek. “I haven’t exactly had time with you in the hospital?—”

I raise a hand, cutting him off. “I’m not saying it’s your fault, only that we could still use my grandfather’s help, right? No one knows how to run the Four Seas better than he does.”

“Yes, of course,” he grits out.

I can practically see his fragile male ego deflating and for once, I actually feel badly about it. Because my new husband has been nothing but dedicated this past week.

Before I can open my mouth, Marco whirls on his heel and stomps down the corridor to his office. Damn it.

I blow out a frustrated sigh and tip my head back to stare at the high ceilings.

“Marriage is never easy, baobèi. And the circumstances in which you’ve begun yours make it even more challenging, but I have faith that all will work out as it should.”

“Right…”

“I will remain only a few days more. Now that you are home, I am confident you and Mr. Rossi will learn to successfully navigate the turbulent seas of marriage along with running an empire such as yours side by side.”

I hope he’s right.

CHAPTER 33

THE BEST THANK YOU

Marco

“I don’t give a fuck, Jimmy!” I roar over the phone. “It’s been seven days and the bastard who tried to murder my wife is still out there. How could you have no leads?”

“I already told you that all the cameras at the Waldorf were wiped clean. With the number of crime syndicates invited to the wedding, there are a shit load of suspects. Not to mention the fact that it could have been someone who snuck in.”

“Then question the guards on duty again. I want them all interrogated until the fuckers spill. Someone has to know what happened that day, and no one better fucking sleep until you find that person.”

“Got it, boss.”

I jab my finger at the call end button, fury rushing my veins. I’ve never felt so powerless and, Dio, I hate it. If there was one thing about this damned marriage I thought I would be decent at, it was protecting my damned wife.

Now I feel like a fucking coglione.

That seething anger bubbles up, tangling with weeks of pent-up energy and sexual frustration. I stalk out of my home-office ready to rip something, anything apart. When I reach the kitchen, darkness blankets the city, the twinkling lights of the skyline streaming into the great room.

Cazzo, what time is it? How long have I been holed up in my office?

Jia’s familiar form materializes on the couch, and I halt my mad stomping. Her eyes are closed and she’s curled up beneath a blanket. Yéye is nowhere in sight, but since it’s well past midnight, he’s likely already gone to bed.

The fury ravaging my entire being wanes as I step closer, and my eyes land on the simple platinum wedding band around Jia’s finger. My thoughts fly to the engagement ring I never returned. The red box still sits unopened, hidden in my underwear drawer.

With all the chaos of this week, I haven’t had time to bring it back to Cartier. Maybe I shouldn’t… I fold down onto the couch beside her and brush a strand of raven hair behind her ear. My little spitfire has been playing nice this week, but it’s only because she’s injured.

Now that things would return to normal what would happen?

---