Page 55 of Captive Mafia Wife

It’s a laugh.

The last time something was in my care, I was tasked with watering our neighbor’s plants while she was on a month-long Alaskan cruise; I partied, forgot to water them, and they all died.

All the Kings in Glasgow and everyone on the island have been told I’m underground, hiding from the Hoax somewhere in the English countryside till we get this sorted out.

Sorted out meaning…what?

I don’t yet know.

Maybe my people will finally come to their senses and remember who I am. From the outside looking in, it is a wee bit suspicious, especially how I carried on, partying to celebrate my win in court. How will I convince everyone I’m innocent while untangling myself from the Hoax’s name?

Callum says I can’t, and my job is to lay low, stay safe, and do as I’m told.

A feat I fear is too great for me to accomplish.

I’m out of my element now, relying on two men instead of myself. Fredrick to provide for me and protect me here in Inverness. Callum to sort out my life with the Kings. Christmas Day, over wine and pudding, Callum tried hisbest to avoid the subject, the conversation ending with him saying these things take time, that I’m impatient, and for ONCE, can he be the one in charge, and can I shut my wee mouth?

Wee mouth? HA! I could fit a whole haggis between these MAC Frost Pink lips.

Since my haggis-sized mouth gets me in trouble, I stay busy. With Christmas come gone and packed away, I turn to other projects. Wee Inverness is a beautiful blank slate with clean lines and good bones. It’s a grand castle perched over a gorgeous river and quaint town, deserving of being her best, so I dive into renovations and let Callum sort out my life.

I’m installing an infinity pool, a rock waterfall wall dipping into a round in-ground hot tub, and a koi pond.

Also, I’m working on a surprise for Fredrick’s garden. With a wee sneaky bit of help from Morven and her eccentric, reclusive artist husband, I’ve commissioned a piece for the garden's center. I want him to be able to visit anytime.

Fredrick is actively trying to keep me busy as well. It takes a lot of work. Especially when it’s a holiday and he knows I’m missing the family, like today, New Year’s Day. We rang in the new year with champagne and sexy times at midnight. It was fantastic; I’m still glowing.

Now, as we have been doing every morning since I officially took up residence in his—our—lovely owners’ suite, we sit and have breakfast. We prefer the round table with the two chairs in the small living room off the main bedroom. Together, we sip coffee and nibble breakfast as we discuss ourday.

Taking a sip of black coffee, he flips open his laptop, asking me ever so casually, “What would you like to do today?” as if it was just a typical day, with two average newlyweds—yikes, engaged people—ready to spend the day together.

We do make a striking couple.

Now, with more money than God, no need to work, and nothing but time on my perfectly manicured, diamond ring-covered fingers…what would I like to do today?

“Hmm…” I flutter my lashes. “I want to put on a black dress, high heels, a generous spray of Gucci Floral, and march into a courtroom to kick some ass.”

“In time, ma chérie.” His voice dips, his gaze lowering. “Have you considered another career in case it proves too dangerous for you to be back in the courts?”

His words hit me hard. “Seriously? Are things in Glasgow looking that bad for me?”

“I worry for you. I’m thinking maybe keep an open mind.” He offers a soft smile. “That’s all.”

I sit there, stunned. I am a fierce female solicitor. It’s my identity, my drive, my passion, my life. Have I thought of what I would do if I can’t go back?

Walking the halls of Wee Inverness, Happy prancing at my side, his wee bell tinkling, this place is becoming more and more like my new home…I may have toyed with the idea of installing a fantastic west-wing spa and an east-bridal suite.

The estate would be a breathtaking place for weddings.

The wee thought may have slipped into my mind.

“Currently, I have no plans to change careers.” I stab a berry with the prongs of my fork, popping it into my mouth. “We shall see.”

“Vivre l’instant present. Let us focus on the present moment.” He gives me an easy grin. “There must be something touristy you’d like to do today?” His eyes brighten. “Maybe a historical site with a detailed tour?”

I cast back my mind back, scanning childhood dreams of where we would travel when we finally left our isolated yet beautiful island. Wanting him to enjoy our day, too, I need a suggestion to quench his love of history. “Edinburgh Castle,” I say. “I’ve never been there. Have you?”

“I’ve not.” His dark eyebrows shoot sky-high. “But you? You’re Scottish.”

---