Page 171 of Villainous Kingpin
Squeezing my hand in comfort, Bas ignored everyone and bent his head to press a kiss on my lips.
“Don’t be jealous,” he murmured against my lips. “You’re the only one for me.”
My lips curved into a soft smile and my heart swelled, I feared it’d explode from these feelings that boomed inside me.
We strode towards the table where Mom, Priest, and his father sat at Eleven Madison Park restaurant on Madison Avenue in the heart of New York City. They secured a window seat that overlooked Madison Square Park. The street outside was busy with pedestrians, despite it being a chilly day. The beautiful weather drew the people out, eagerly anticipating spring.
“What the hell were you two doing?” Priest added.
I blushed crimson, avoiding looking his way. I feared if he saw my eyes, he’d know exactly what we were doing.
Bas just shrugged his shoulders. “Been busy.”
“They’re newlyweds,” Bas’ uncle defended us. “Let Bas enjoy his honeymoon.”
“Hi, Mom.” I went around the table and hugged her. “Are you okay?”
She pulled away to look at me. She looked beautiful, wearing a light green sweater and white jeans combined with a pair of white flats. Her hair was up in a bun and for the first time in my life, she didn’t seem to have ghosts lurking in her eyes.
Taking both my cheeks between her palms, she held my head firmly. “Next time, you run. Don’t try and save me.” I shook my head at her words. “I was scared he’d take you too. That I wouldn’t have survived.”
“You're my mom,” I whispered. “I love you. Of course, I’ll always save you.”
She shook her head, sadness crossing her expression.
“You might not think so after today,” she answered enigmatically.
Priest offered a terse nod and Bas’ uncle extended his hand. “We never officially met. I’m Franco DiLustro.”
He wore a three-piece-suit and so did Priest, both ready to attend Gio’s funeral. I wore a simple black dress that reached to my knees with black shoes.
“Wynter,” I murmured, accepting his hand hesitantly. “How is your head?’
A dark expression passed his face. “It’s good, thank you.”
Unsure what else I could say to him, I offered a tight smile and took the seat Bas pulled out for me. Once we all sat down, the waiter showed up and took Bas’ and my order.
With the waiter gone, it was Franco who broke the uncomfortable silence.
“I hear you play poker,” he drawled.
I shifted uncomfortably, my eyes looked to Priest. “Yes,” I muttered, wondering how much Franco knew.
“You got yourself a good game at Royally Lucky,” he continued. Well, it seemed he knew a lot.
“Star beats my father at poker and chess,” Mom chimed in. “She’s really good.”
“Sometimes,” I murmured.
The waiter came back and placed my caramel mocha in front of me. I wrapped my fingers around my cup, my shoulders slightly tense.
“Going for calories already, huh?” Mom teased.
I chuckled uncomfortably. “Figured I could enjoy all the stuff I’ve been craving.”
Bas’ hand came to my leg under the table and squeezed in re-assurance. “She earned it,” he told mom.
“Fuck yeah,” Priest agreed, shooting a slightly disapproving look my mother’s way. “Two times Olympic gold medalist, she can eat and drink whatever she wants.”
