Page 31 of Married to the Mafia

Brandi held the pillow tighter and tried not to think about what it might mean that the gunfire had stopped. She didn’t want any of Mikey’s men to be dead. She didn’t even want them to be wounded, though obviously that was impossible. What had she dragged everyone into?

Mikey had never so resented the length of his driveway in his life. It’d taken him close to fifteen minutes to get home after he’d heard Ralph fucking George had opened fire on Brandi and his guards. He was furious. He was still irritated over the strange as fuck conversation he’d had with Brandi shortly before, but that was nothing compared to how angry he was that the very man he’d promised to protect her from had practically waltzed up to his goddamn front door and put a bullet in her head.

Someone’s observational skills had taken an unpaid vacation, and they had better hope they were the ones who’d also taken the fucking bullets.

But he would deal with all of that later. First, he needed to get inside and see for himself that Brandi was unharmed. He wasn’t sure how the actual conversation would go, with both of them being on-edge, but they obviously needed to have one.

He found her clutching a decorative pillow and pressed into the far corner of the back sofa in the den, all the lights off. He flicked on the overhead chandelier and strode into the room, narrowly avoiding stepping on her purse as he rounded the coffee table. That probably explains why she didn’t answer her phone.

Brandi blinked rapidly, as if clearing her vision. From her body language, he was honestly surprised not to see her face covered in tear stains. “I-is he…?”

Something suspiciously like guilt wove its way into the seething ball of rage in his chest. Mikey unclenched his teeth. “He took at least two hits, but the fucker got away. I’ve got a crew enroute to upgrade external security, he at least won’t be able to get the drop on the property after today.” Mikey lowered to crouch in front of her. “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.”

Her hands tightened around the pillow. “How many were hurt? Did anyone else—did I get anyone else killed?”

Mikey frowned and reached out, yanking the pillow from her grip and tossing it aside. She squeaked, but he talked over her displeasure. “No fatalities.” Yet. “They’re security guards, Brandi. They’re security guards for the fucking mafia. If they’re not prepared to take a bullet, they’ve made more than one wrong decision in their life.”

Her brow only furrowed in obvious disagreement. “But this isn’t even a mafia thing,” she argued, her voice weak. “It’s my asshole father’s thing that’s been dumped on me. And I’m…” She trailed off and her gaze dropped to her lap.

Mikey scowled, but before he could explain his disagreement, she whispered the rest of her thought.

“I’m no one.”

Something shifted inside him at her words and the fragile tone in which she spoke them. Something he had no name for.

Mikey looped an arm around her waist and hauled her to her feet as he stood, pulling her up against his chest. He threaded his other hand into her hair, letting his palm settle over the back of her head and holding her stare. “You are not no one. You’re my future wife. You have me, and everything that entails.”

Her arms circled around his torso. “I’m so confused,” she said. “One minute I’m angry, the next minute I’m feeling sorry for myself.”

Mikey frowned, but he stayed silent. It was clear she had more to say.

“I expected your mom to hate me,” Brandi continued, “instead she was really sweet, and when she left, I started hating me instead.” Her fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t have anyone who would feel compelled to meet my fiancé. The most I have is someone who would feel entitled to voice an opinion on their perception of the benefits to my marriage.”

She dragged in a breath and Mikey found himself holding her tighter. Irritation pinched her brow. “I got it in my head that I needed to go and yell at him,” she said, obviously referring to her father. “Tell him my news, and that he’s not invited. I justified it to myself because I thought maybe it would help to see if he had any kind of reaction to these bruises. That was all … that was all I was going to do. It wasn’t even important.” She dropped her head to his chest. “I’m so stupid.”

Mikey lowered his hand to her nape and tipped his nose into her hair. “You’re processing a lot. Give yourself more credit. If you want to tell your father the news, I’ll go with you. Considering that he’s ultimately George’s target, that’s the last place you should be going by yourself. Right now, even I would take an escort for that trip.”

She eased back barely enough to look up at him. “You would do that?”

He couldn’t help the scowl that marred his lips. “Don’t misunderstand. Your father’s on my list of assholes to deal with. He’s just not my top priority, and I don’t mind making him sweat first.”

Her gaze dropped and she nodded. Not arguing, not questioning, not defending.

Mikey released a slow breath and gave the back of her neck a faint squeeze. “Brandi.”

Her eyes snapped up again, as if she hadn’t meant to wander. A hint of pink blossomed across her cheeks.

Everything he’d envisioned yelling at her faded to a single, gruff sentence. “Don’t fucking endanger yourself like that again.”

Her eyes widened, but there was no fear. Not even when a single stream of tears slipped free.

Mikey failed to fully contain his groan, dipped his head, and caught the trailing tear on his tongue. Her soft gasp shot through him. When he moved his lips to hers for the second time, she opened promptly. He sucked on her tongue as the hand not on her neck lowered to grab hold of her ass through her skirt. He’d underestimated the temptation she would be, simply existing beside him in his space and talking more comfortably to him.

He may have been underestimating his desire for her overall, for a while.

He retreated from her lips as the press of her fingers dug into his shoulder blades. He didn’t otherwise ease his grip, making absolutely sure this time she was fully aware what she’d done to him. “I have half a mind to bend you over this sofa.”

Her eyes widened again, the burn on her face intensifying. Her lips parted. “That’s—I— Someone could walk in!”

---