Page 71 of Merciful Lies

It feels so right. It’s what I always wanted, and he is just what I need.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT-NICO

“How long will you be gone for?” Anna asks, her eyes bright with unshed tears as I rush home to explain there’s been an emergency.

The doctor just told her she needs to be on bed rest for the final three weeks of her pregnancy and here I am abandoning her, and I feel like a miserable piece of fucking shit.

“I’m sorry. I’m not going far. Just Boston. A business associate has news he will only share in person. There’s a whole fucking process, it’s all bullshit pomp, but I can’t ignore it. Tell me you understand, and you forgive me?”

I fucking beg her.

“Nico, hush,” she chides. “There’s nothing to forgive. Go do what you have to then come home to me, safe and sound. Got it? Tell me.”

Her whispered demand is so fucking hot, and I nod my head because yeah, I got it.

“I’ll always come back to you both,” I tell her, and I mean it.

I mean it so fucking much. Anna is cupping my face in her hands. I turn my head to kiss her palm, but she pulls me close, and I let her lips claim mine, and fuck, it feels incredible.

I’ve never let anyone close to me like this. I drink her in, letting her fill all those deep, empty places inside me.

I’m used to the dark, to being on my own. Even with Angel and Luc and all the Vipers working for us, I never let anyone in.

Just Anna.

My Anna.

She is my home.

She’s my heart.

My everything.

“I love you, Nico. Stay safe, Husband,” she says, and I kiss her again.

“You have your phone,” I say for the second time and she nods.

“Yes, and don’t worry, Mrs. Pirillo is staying just like you asked her to,” she tells me, naming our housekeeper.

The woman is in her sixties and has been working for me for a decade now. I have six armed guards in the building. Two outside the door, two on the roof, and two in the lobby.

They’ve all been vetted. Twice.

These are men I know. Men who have worked for me for years. Men that I trust.

And just because I’m a special brand of fucking psycho where my wife is concerned, I already told them in graphic detail the ways I will end their miserable lives should a single fucking hair on her head be harmed while I’m gone.

“I’ll be back soon, Rosebud.”

I fucking mean it.

“I’ll be counting the minutes.”

My heart squeezes. Anna means it, too.

For the first time in my life, I feel connected to someone. Like a chain is tying me to this woman, pulling me back from the abyss, and it feels fucking great.

Christ, I love her.

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