Page 43 of Convenient Mafia Vows

Shit.

“Victoria, are you hurt?”

She shakes her head, her eyes dark and wide. She’s in shock. It will sting like fuck once the adrenaline starts to fade.

I have two choices: I can take her to the ER, or I can take her home and look after her myself. Okay, scratch that. I only have one choice. Too many questions will be asked at the hospital, and this isn’t the way I’d planned on announcing my marriage to the rest of the world.

A final glance at Kyle and the mafia boss, who is now sitting upright on the sidewalk, blood seeping through his shirt sleeve, and I know what I must do.

When the car pulls up on the curb, I nod for Terry and his man to get out and help Kyle move Don Dragonetti into the back seat. It’s the least we can do: get him away from the crime scene until his own men can move him to a safe house.

A second car pulls up behind Terry. The sirens are getting closer, but my stepdad probably made it as difficult as possible for the emergency services to get here, buying himself a few precious minutes to scope out the damage first.

Two men in black suits climb out. One opens the back door while the other tries to help me move Victoria, but I scoop her up into my arms, her head still covered by my jacket and resting against my chest and cross the sidewalk in three easy strides. Inside the car, I pull Victoria onto my lap and hold her close until we’re moving away from the restaurant. Her shivering subsides a little, but I don’t relax my hold on her.

The car pulls into the Wraith’s basement lot and my secure parking area.

“We’re home now.” I smooth Victoria’s hair away from her face like she’s a child. “I want you to stay under the jacket until we’re inside, okay?”

The trembling resumes, and she grabs my sleeve. “No, Caleb. What’s happening? I need to get Abigail and take her home.”

“Abigail is safe, I promise you.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “Do you trust me?”

She peers into my eyes in the stark overhead lights of the parking lot, and despite the fear in her dilated pupils, she nods.

The bodyguards shield me from the rest of the lot as I climb out of the car with Victoria in my arms. Two strides, and we’re in the penthouse elevator. Victoria’s heart is still thudding, but now her heartbeats are more in sync with mine, and I feel her relax against me as I carry her through my apartment and into my bedroom.

I set her down on top of the burgundy silk comforter, and unwrap my jacket from around her shoulders, plumping up the pillows underneath her head. I allow my eyes to close briefly with relief when I realize that the wound on her upper arm is little more than a graze.

This isn’t the world I want to bring my wife and kids into, but what’s worse in Victoria’s case is that I never elaborated on what she was signing up for. Selfishly, I bribed her with financial gain, and never once indicated that she was stepping out of a humdrum life and into a world where danger and glamor walk hand in hand. I never really gave her the choice. She had to accept because, thanks to me, the alternative was unemployment and the bread line.

“Caleb?” The fear is back in her shrinking voice. “What is it?”

“Don’t panic, Victoria.” I sit on the side of the bed and place my arms on either side of her head, forcing her to look at me. Only atme. “I’m going to fix you some brandy, and you’re going to drink it for me like a good girl.”

“No.” Her eyes flicker to the wound on her right arm, but I intercept her gaze before she can see it. It’s probably starting to smart about now, but it’ll hurt a lot worse without the brandy.

“I need you to trust me.”

While I’m talking, I reach for the brandy decanter on the nightstand and half fill a heavy crystal tumbler. Supporting her head, I raise the glass to her lips and wait for her to swallow the amber liquid. She grimaces as it goes down.

“It burns, huh?”

Victoria nods, and I lay her head back down on the pillow. “Stay right there.” Her eyes widen briefly before she inhales deeply and closes them again.

I fetch the medical kit from my ensuite. When I sit back down beside her, her eyes flicker open, and she smiles lazily at me. “Caleb…” It’s the brandy taking effect.

“Close your eyes.” I open a sterile antiseptic wipe to clean the graze. “This might sting a little.”

Victoria wriggles on the pillow trying to get comfortable, her hair fanning out around her. She releases a sigh, and I clean the wound gently, my gaze dipping back and forth to be sure that I’m not hurting her. She hardly stirs. When I’ve cleaned the blood from her skin, I inspect the wound more closely before I cover it with a dressing. The bullet must’ve grazed her. She got lucky, this time.

She doesn’t need stitches, but I still need to convince her to keep quiet about the incident. And why should she? She got a wholelot more than she bargained for when she signed that marriage contract and buying her off won’t quite cut it anymore.

I watch her sleeping.

There’s a vulnerability about her that’s quite addictive. It’s not a weakness, if anything it’s her strength, but she just doesn’t know it yet. It set her apart from the other women at the table tonight, made her seem real when everyone else was masquerading as the people they’re expected to be. Ironic really.

I brush her cheek with my fingers, and she rolls towards me, nuzzling my hand, and tucking my arm between her breasts. It’s a subconscious move, and my dick immediately responds inside my pants. I came too close to fucking her earlier; I can’t let her get under my skin because at some point, when this is all over, I need to let her go.

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