Page 115 of Dance of Deception

Instantly, Naomi, Milena, and Brooklyn, who were stretching next to Vaughn on stage, cluster around.

“What are you talking about?” I mumble, unzipping my coat.

“Just the massive fuckingbite mark—or whatever the fuck part of his anatomy did that toyouranatomy—on your neck.” Vaughn grins salaciously, jabbing a finger at the side of my throat.

“Oh myGod,” I mutter under my breath. “I hate you.”

Vaughn—absolutemenacethat he is—grins, exposing the sin on my skin. “Come on. Answer the question, Mrs. Mafia Bride.”

“The answer is mind your own damn business,” I snap. “And don’t call me that.”

Vaughn lifts a single brow. “Yeah—I truly cannot believe we’ve hit a point in our lives where I’m saying this, but my business isn’tnearlyas exciting as yours. I hope we can all appreciate the gravity of this moment.”

He successfully yanks my jacket all the way off and tosses it aside. Instantly, their mouths all drop open.

“Girl,” Brooklyn chokes out, her eyebrows practically on the ceiling. I cringe under their stares, painfully aware of the bruises all over my arms, cleavage, and neck.

That’s just the ones they cansee.

The ones on my inner thighs, my breasts, my ass? Those throb even deeper and are already an even angrier shade of purple and black.

Because I married a wild animal, apparently.

A feral hound…

Milena intervenes before Vaughn can say anything else. “Shut the fuck up, Vaughn,” she sighs, shoving him back and turning to me. Her face grows serious. “Are you okay? Those bruises are serious.”

Vaughn snorts. “Yeah, because someone got seriouslyfuuuckedon her wedding night.”

Naomi, bless her, huffs and crosses her arms. “Don't be a perv, Vaughn. She obviously bumped into something.” She turns to me, determined. “Right?”

Oh boy.

Vaughn roars with laughter. Milena can barely hide the grin on her lips. And Brooklyn giggles as she turns to our eternally innocent friend. “Oh, you sweet, sweet summer child.”

Naomi frowns. “What?”

Milena smirks. “Well, Naomi, sometimes two consenting adults have the urge to get a little rough in the bedroom?—”

Naomi gasps, her face turning a shade of red I didn’t even know existed. “Oh myGod,” she squeaks.

Milena turns back to arch a brow at me. “Soooo… Married life is going well, I see.”

I groan again. “Ihateyou all.”

“No, youloveus,” Brooklyn corrects. “But seriously. How’s it feel, being a Barone?”

I roll my eyes. “Can we please talk about literally anything else? What about you guys? Anything new?”

Milena flashes me a look. “In the last forty-eight hours?Nope.”

Brooklyn taps her chin, pretending to think. “Hmm…let’s see… No, I didn’t marry amafia donlately, so I think that’s still the most interesting thing in the room.”

I groan. “You’re impossible.”

Milena laughs and loops an arm around my shoulders. “Okay, enough. We’re glad you’re here, even if you are Mrs. Mafia now.”

Brooklyn pouts dramatically. “Still waiting formytall, dark and dangerous.”

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