Page 29 of Recaptured by the Crime Lord

“We’re ready when you are.”

Lyla nodded and rushed upstairs. Gavin’s staff was coming in today. Gavin gave the staff strict orders to stay away since he brought her back. The mansion was in dire straits, thanks to their activities. Lyla took the time to put on makeup and do something with her hair. They were going to get the works today—hair, nails, wax. Lyla proposed it as a way to spend time together and get their minds off of Uncle Louie’s death. Carmen grudgingly accepted. Lyla was armed with an unlimited credit card from Gavin.

Lyla examined the thigh length gray ruffle wrap dress. She gave an experimental twirl in the mirror and realized she was smiling. It was amazing the difference a week could make. A week ago, she was contemplating whether her life was worth living. Now, she was married and looking forward to her future. Gavin made an appointment with a gynecologist who had been horrified when she took in Lyla’s scarred abdomen. The doctor requested Lyla’s hospital records and verified that no vital organs had been damaged. She should be able to get pregnant, but they would monitor her closely to make sure everything went okay. Despite this reassurance, Lyla requested oral contraception. Gavin didn’t comment, but his expressionless face said it all. Lyla didn’t want to rush into anything and was going to pick up the prescription tomorrow.

Lyla was halfway down the stairs when her phone rang. She filched it out of her purse and shook her head when she saw the name on the screen.

“Hello,” she said.

“It’s been an hour,” Gavin said.

“I haven’t even left the house yet.”

“We agreed, every hour.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t insist we video chat,” she said as she made her way to the foyer.

A pause and then, “That would be even better.”

“Gavin, I’m walking out the door. I’ll call you in an hour.”

“Tell me,” he said.

She knew what he wanted. He demanded she say it several times a day. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby girl.”

Lyla walked down the steps and climbed into the back of the SUV. She had to resist the urge to look in the trunk to see if there was any sign of their consummation. She would never be able to ride in this SUV without remembering... Lyla distracted herself by texting Carmen that she was on her way and got an unpleasant text in return—her mother was at Aunt Isabel’s house. Lyla ignored the knots in her stomach. She hadn’t changed her mind about taking away her parents allowance. It wasn’t Gavin’s duty to provide for them. Her father embezzled and if he couldn’t get a job as an accountant, he had to find another career. How many times had he dragged Lyla and her mother down with him? He would never change. Lyla’s connection to the Pyres made her father feel entitled to money, as if Gavin should pay him a dowry or something.

Blade helped her out when they parked in Aunt Isabel’s driveway. Lyla walked up to the front door with three guards. The door was answered by Carmen who looked annoyed. She reached out and dragged Lyla into a tight hug.

“You’re really okay?” Carmen asked.

“Yes. Are you ready to go?”

Carmen gave her a put upon look. “Your mother’s been here since six, crying and carrying on.”

Lyla straightened her shoulders. “Where is she?”

Carmen led Lyla into the kitchen while the guards stayed in the living room. Her mother sat at a small dining table. She looked awful with puffy eyes, unbrushed hair and a pile of used tissues in front of her. When her mother spotted Lyla, she rushed over.

“Lyla, Daddy told me you took away our money. How are we going to live?” her mother asked.

“He needs to find a job.”

“But you know it’s going to be so hard for him after the misunderstanding at Pyre Casinos.”

Lyla cocked her head to the side. “Misunderstanding? It wasn’t a misunderstanding, Mom, hestolehalf a million.”

“Daddy said—”

“He’s a liar and a gambling addict,” Lyla said succinctly, shocking her mother into silence. “I asked Gavin to let you two live off of a generous allowance. He didn’t have to do that. He never asked Dad to repay anything, either. At the funeral Dad asked for more money so he can gamble.”

“He needs something to do,” her mother said imploringly.

“Gambling isn’t a hobby. It’s an addiction. If he needs money to gamble, why hasn’t he tried to get a job for side income?”

“He’s still recovering from when they beat him up,” her mother said a bit indignantly.

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