Page 38 of Shark Bait

“Alessio, no.”

“Yes.”

“Give her a week.”

“You are marrying her tomorrow, or I swear you won’t make it past breakfast.” He grabs my shoulders and pulls me into him so our foreheads are touching. “Please, please,” he begs. “Marry her. If she takes our name, I will protect you both.”

I just wanted to give her more time to adjust to me and to whatever our new life will be like. To be fair, I also wanted to give myself some time as well. “For fuck’s sake, Alessio, I met her yesterday. Give me a week.”

“I understand what you’re asking, and the answer is no.”

“One week,” I try again, even though I know Alessio is not one whose mind dawdles between this and that. If he doesn’t mean it, he won’t speak it. Besides, he begged, and it’s hard to refuse a begging Alessio, because nobody gets to see this man beg.

“Tomorrow,” he says and exits the office.

I watch him retreat into the kitchen, where he picks up little Leo and hugs him tightly, comforting him while glaring at me. Alessio is torn between ending my life and letting me bring a high-profile and high-risk woman into our family, which, if you haven’t figured out by now, is a tiny criminal organization made up of a handful of us. With Alessio at the helm, we rule most of the underworld without the underworld knowing it’s being controlled.

It’s very difficult to keep our secrets if we make mistakes and recruit the wrong people who could then turn around and expose us. Alessio doesn’t keep his enemies closer than his friends, but he’s keeping Troy under his roof with his sister and nephew. I think it’s a calculated risk, one he’s taking because he thinks if he doesn’t keep me under his watch, I’ll flee with her.

I can’t say that he’s wrong. I’ve considered escaping with her.

I hop up to sit on his desk and swing my feet, staring at Alessio’s new hardwood floors. Even the floors mock me. They’re polished, whereas I’m…worn out. Old. Being thirty-eight to her nineteen is an age gap that makes me uncomfortable. Also, it makes me want to take care of her, claim her, own her, piss on her like some dirty old street dog.

I look up to see that Alessio’s coming back toward the office. He opens the glass door and peeks inside. “Forgot to tell you. If you run, I will chase you to the ends of the earth.”

And there you have it. “Why are you so obsessed with me?”

“I mean it,Shark.”

I chuckle and join him outside. “How did you know I was considering running away?”

“Because you’re in a pickle.”

“Don’t like pickles. They’re like a bunch of little dicks trapped in a jar.”

“Plus, they’re sour,” Alessio says. “And you like sweet things.”

True. Alessio remains in the main house as I make my way into the courtyard, past the pool, and through the blue doors of the guest house.

I find Troy in the bedroom, sleeping on her side. I lie down behind her, but I don’t spoon with her because I wouldn’t want to sneak up and touch her. I don’t know the extent of what she endured with those men on the yacht. But I’m close enough in case she wants to scoot back into my body.

People often say that opposites attract, but I think, in the case of Troy and me, like attracted like, our cracked parts grabbing onto one another in hopes they could fuse together and make us whole again.

I want to fuse with her.

In more ways than one, which makes me feel dirty, and not in a good way since she’s only nineteen to my thirty-eight. A good, wholesome gentleman would leave the room right now. He most definitely wouldn’t take a piece of her blonde hair that’s splayed over the pillow and sniff it. And he certainly wouldn’t get hard thinking about holding her pregnant belly while thrusting into her from behind.

That’s why gentlemen never end up with the girl.

With a smile, I sniff her hair again.

THIRTEEN

SHARK. UNBOXED

TROY

I wake up with a light blue blanket over my belly.

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