Page 43 of The Mob Boss' Pet

“Like right now?” She shakes her hand behind us.

“Yes.” I nod.

“Wait. So, if she doesn’t say yes, what happens?”

“Well, I assume he’ll stop seeing her,” I answer.

Her brow furrows. “He’s not going to be completely honest with her until she agrees to marry him. That’s weird. You know, that right?”

“How is it weird?” Once loyalty is pledged, then she can be trusted.

“Why would she agree to marry someone who hasn’t been completely honest already? How does she trust him when he’s kept so much from her?”

“It’s not about his honesty. It’s about her loyalty.”

Her frown deepens. “Did Anton do the same with his wife?”

“Yes.” I nod.

“And you’ll do the same with your wife... when you... I mean... when you get one?” A soft blush covers her cheeks, reddening her nose.

“If I ever get around to that, yes.”

“Around to it?” The question bursts from her lips and she rolls her eyes. “You don’t get around to marrying someone, Vincenzo. You meet someone, fall in love, then get married.” She explains this as if point A always leads to point B.

“Love tends to complicate things,” I say, grabbing hold of her hand and start walking again. The fresh air has lightened her mood. I’m not ready for that to end just yet.

“Love is complicated, yes,” she continues after several long moments pass in silence. “But that’s the fun of it, I guess.”

I glance at her from the side. “Why haven’t you married yet then? You’re not that young.”

“Are you saying I’m old?” she asks with mock offense.

I laugh. “Nope. You’re the perfect age. Whatever it is.” I squeeze her hand. She’s twenty-nine. Her birthday just passed a month ago in May. I know all these things about her, but she doesn’t know I’ve been diving into her history, into her privacy. It’s a secret I’m not ready to give up yet.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I remind her, tugging her closer to me when she starts to wander a bit.

“I haven’t found the guy yet, I guess.” She says it simply, but there’s a visible ache in her expression.

“You haven’t found any good guys?” I ask. Who knows why I’m questioning this. The idea of someone’s hands other than mine touching her makes my blood boil.

“No, not really.”

I stop walking and pull her to stay with me. “They hurt you?” I can’t help the darkness shining through when I ask her.

“No.” She swishes her hand through the air between us. “Well, not all of them. Most were fine, just not the right guy.”

“But the others?” The Neanderthal inside of me craves the names and locations of every asshole she ever came in contact with.

“Stop looking like you’re going to murder someone.” She touches my arm. “I dumped them and left them in the past.”

“But someone did hurt you.” I push forward.

She frowns. “Have you never hurt anyone?”

Maria’s cousin comes to mind. She’d wanted things I wasn’t able to give. Had I hurt her?

“Sometimes things don’t work out and someone gets hurt,” she says softly. “And sometimes, eventually, they do.” She bites the corner of her lip. “And that’s when you get married.”

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