Page 71 of Deceitful Oath

I’m making a mafia don blush. A mafia don bought me a disturbingly expensive ring. How did my life turn into this?

“Since the moment I saw you, you’ve felt like sunshine to me,” he mumbles, the blush deepening. “Warm, bright, happiness in a bottle.”

“Wow, Rafael, I don’t know what to say,” my voice shakes with emotion. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Here, let’s try it on,” he brushes me off, clearly embarrassed at this rare moment of emotion. “I guessed your size.”

He gently pries it out of my hands and slips it onto my ring finger. I hold my hand up, mesmerized by how the diamond catches the late afternoon light. Even though we said our vows in front of an officiant and hired witnesses this morning, the ring makes it somehow more real.

I throw my arms around him, circling my legs around his waist, and catch his lips in a deep kiss. He chuckles through it, spinning me around the kitchen.

“I take it you like it then? I can throw out the receipt?”

“Burn it,” I tell him, leaning in to kiss him again.

***

Although the mood feels lighter as we cook dinner that evening, I know Rafael is still thinking about my interaction with that man earlier.

I hem and haw about whether to reveal anything as I mindlessly stir the spaghetti. He’s chopping mushrooms beside me, humming along to the soft jazz filtering through the speakers.

This feels so domestic, so wholesome and lovely, that I don’t want to spoil the moment. But my brain keeps pointing out the fact that I might know something important—something that could save his life.

“Rafael,” I start, but he interrupts me, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and nuzzling my neck.

“I miss when you used to call me Wolfie,” he jokes.

“Wolfie?” I laugh, swatting him away. “That’s when I thought your last name was Wolf. It doesn’t make sense now.”

“Actually, it still kind of does,” he says, stepping away to toss the mushrooms into a pan. “I’m known as The Wolf in…my circles. That’s why I chose it as my last name when I gave you my alias.”

“Hmm, okay then, Wolfie?”

“Yes, sunshine?”

Sunshine.I stare at him, my eyes dreamy, as I melt away inside. He grins, realizing I’m fawning over the new nickname. I clear my throat, trying to re-focus my attention on what I need to tell him.

“I think I need to tell you something,” I start, nervously wringing my hands. “It might be nothing, but it might be something that could protect you…and me.”

He stills, turning down the heat on the burner, and walks over to me. “Is this about that strange interaction earlier?”

“That man, the tall one. Who is he?”

“Vince,” he answers right away. “My father’s right-hand man. I guess my right-hand man, now.”

“You trust him?” I ask nervously, not knowing whether my information will make a mess of everything. He cocks his eyebrow at me, thinking deeply.

“My father did…” he starts slowly. “Lux, what’s this all about?”

“So, when I worked at The Velvet Room, he was a regular,” I blurt out in one breath, glancing at him to see his reaction.

Maybe I’m overreacting, but if the Mancinis are rivals, what’s his right-hand man doing in their establishment every week?

“A regular?”

“Yeah, he came in at least once or twice a week. Usually Thursdays and Saturdays, in the early evening,” I explain. “We got to know pretty much all of our regulars because…well, because they came on a regular schedule.”

“So, you’ve spoken with him before?”

---