Page 84 of Deception & Desire

If she frowned at me for being too attentive, I didn’t care. I’m making up for lost time, for every moment I wasn’t there when she needed me.

She’s always been so strong, so fiercely independent. Watching her lean on me, even a little, is humbling. She claims to hate it, but I want desperately to earn back what I lost, to be worthy of her trust again.

To prove that this time, we canbothstay.

“You’re looking at me funny,” she bemoans from her perch on the couch. She’s not even looking at me, her nose firmly between the pages of a book while the twins sleep soundly in the next room.

I smirk to myself as I continue to breathe her in. She’s pale, still recovering, but there’s a light in her eyes that sings of that foreign concept: happiness.

The babies are eleven days old. Eleven days since my love confession was wrenched out of me in a moment of beautiful vulnerability that I don’t regret for a second.

Only, we haven’t talked about it since, dancing around each other with gentle words and touches, holding on to each other during those rare moments of peace when the two newborns aren’t demanding our attention.

There’s an understanding between us now, an acknowledgment that there is something so very important between us. But it also feels like we’re in the endgame of a relationship we never really properly started.

It’s all backward; marriage and kids came first.

So, I like to take advantage of these rare moments alone as much as I can.

“How are you feeling today?” I say as I cross the room and kneel beside her chair.

She gives me a small smile, though I can tell she’s trying to downplay her fatigue. “Better,” she says softly, her fingers reaching to tangle themselves in mine.

I nod, stroking her hand with my thumb. “You’ve been amazing, Mia. You deserve to be better.”

She laughs lightly. “That’s your way of telling me to rest more, isn’t it?”

“Always,” I admit, smiling. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

Her eyebrow quirks up, and she closes her book. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing bad,” I say to soothe the worry on her face. “In fact, this will all be over soon. We have Rubio cornered now; his people are off the streets.”

“Why am I hearing abut?”

“Actually, you’re hearing amoreover,” I tease back. “We would like to send out a message of power. And what better way to demonstrate the successful union of the Italian Mafia than through a monument to our collective strengths?”

Mia blinks at me as her brain catches up. “You want to open the casino.”

“I want to openyourcasino.” I lift her hand to my lips and kiss it softly. “Will you be my date to the opening?”

Her lips part slightly, surprise flickering across her face before she smiles—a genuine, radiant smile that feels like sunlight after a storm.

“I’d like that,” she says.

When the carpulls to a stop outside the Prince’s Hand casino, I’m out first, extending my hand to her like some lovesick schoolboy.

She takes it, and when she steps out, the sight of her in the glow of the casino’s grand entrance leaves me momentarily speechless.

She’s breathtaking in a deep emerald dress—the soft, fitted fabric that skimming her body and shimmering under every flicker of light. Her fiery hair cascades over her shoulders in a shining wave.

I can’t take my eyes off her. I can’t keep myhandsoff her.

A tug on her waist, my lips pressed to her temple. I can’t stop touching her. “You’re stunning.”

Her cheeks flush, and she pulls away, but the corner of her mouth quirks into a small smile. “I’m postpartum. You have to say that. Otherwise, I’m legally required to murder you.”

“No,” I say, guiding her hand to my arm as we make our way up the steps. “It’s you. You’ve always looked stunning to me. But in that dress…you’ve left me no chance of focusing on anything else tonight.”

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