Page 122 of Filthy Savage

“Okay, genius.” I ruffle his hair as he laughs.

“If you don’t do it right, it won’t come out good.”

“Yeah, listen to my kid.” Tynan grabs some eggs and sugar, adding them to another mixing bowl.

“I think it’s sweet that you wanted to make her something she asked for,” Elara throws in. “That’s really thoughtful.”

“She’s not thrilled with me right now, so I’m trying.”

“Well, neither was Elara. At first.” Tynan smirks, catching her eye, and her face flushes.

“Yeah, I wanted to kill him. I think I even tried once.” She shrugs, a playful look on her face.

“Mom!” Brody’s eyes pop.

“I was only playing.” She throws her hands in the air.

But as she focuses on me, she shakes her head.

“Definitely wasn’t playing,” she whispers to me. “Amara will come around. I did. Just give her time.”

“Yeah, let’s hope this baklava helps.” I start on the filling, mixing the ingredients.

“It will. You’ll see.”

I wish I shared her optimism.

CHAPTER 30

AMARA

Brushingmy hair in the bathroom, I continue getting ready for tonight’s dinner. Knots form in my gut at the thought of being surrounded by the Quinn family.

A Mafia family.

It’s quite terrifying, actually, but I push it to the very back of my mind as I retrieve my knee-length black pencil dress and kitten heels.

The new wardrobe he’s purchased for me is beautiful, and I don’t know when I’ll ever get used to this luxurious life. As hard as my life was, it was mine. I fought for everything I had. This feels like cheating.

“You ready, baby girl?” He peeks into the bedroom, looking as fine as ever in his deep gray suit jacket, two buttons of his white dress shirt popped open.

“Yes.” My face flushes when his gaze ravages my body.

Stalking closer, he clasps my hips. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

I know he means it. I can hear and see it. But most of all, I feel it.

He pushes his hard body into mine and simply stares into my eyes, that sinful mouth feathering over my lips. Yet he doesn’tkiss me, though my heart hasn’t caught on, beating faster from the proximity alone.

“How did you sleep last night?” His voice is a husky, rhythmic melody, stroking all my intimate places.

Last night, he didn’t touch me. He knew I was upset after he told me he killed Xander, and he just held me all night while I tried to figure out how I can accept him and the kind of life he lives.

I never saw myself married to someone who does the kinds of things he does. Yet at the same time, I know he’s a good man, a good father, and I can’t seem to reconcile those two things.

“You’re doing that thing again,” he whispers with a gruff timbre.

“Doing what?”

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