Page 44 of Mafia King: Matteo
The novelty of the job will wear off in a month. She’ll crumble like a shortbread cookie. I can never eat one without wearing it. They are best if they crumble in a cold glass of milk. That way, I drink them both together, and it’s not messy.
Alena is doing her best to ignore me. My balls tighten at the thought of her in my bed, riding my massive cock as I make her mine.
“I’m sure you know everything there is to know about me,” Alena states.
Fair enough.
I nod. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“I’ve been hooking up and having anonymous sex with a hot Italian. What are you going to do about him?”
Her mom gasps and drops her fork. Her father’s hand slams the table as he jumps to his feet.
I raised my hand to calm everyone.
“I’m sure he’d love to see more of you.” I chuckle. She’s boxed into a corner.
Alena is quiet, and her father takes his seat. Her mother begins to clear the table, and Alena follows her lead.
“Forgive her. I don’t know what has gotten into her tonight. I’m sure she’ll be faithful. I don’t know any Italian. I think she only intended to cause an issue with the arranged marriage,” her father suggests.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the marriage happens,” I murmur. “Make no mistake about that. The wedding will be extravagant. All the important players will be invited. I trust Alena will open access to people I need to network with. How is she at social events?”
“She’s not one to carry on conversations with women who don’t have their own opinions and can be a bit of a wild card.”
“I like that about her,” I say as we stand and enter the living room. The women rejoin us, and I thank my hosts for the evening. Before I turn to go, I ask Alena to follow me to the foyer alone.
“What are you doing?” Alena whispers in an accusatory voice.
“Putting a ring on it. No woman of mine will be seen with another man’s hand on her. Ever. If anyone touches you, they will die, so warn Kirill,” I sneer.
“You’re mean. I won’t marry you,” she blurts out.
“You will if you value your father’s life. He took something of mine. Now I’ve taken something of his,” I reply jovially. “Besides, we have a marriage contract.”
“I’m not an inanimate object!”
“No,” I concede as I run my hand down her beautiful face. “You are not. But you are mine, and I suggest you don’t forget it.”
“This isn’t over,” she spits.
“Oh, but it is,” I say as I pull the box out of my pocket. Inside is an emerald-cut diamond, the largest canary diamond on the market. It has the most intense color of yellow ever seen by man.
I pluck the ring out of the box before I take her hand into mine. I slip the ring on her finger.
“We’re official,” I state as I watch her eyes grow wide.
“This is too much. It’s too big.”
“That’s not what you say when you marry the most eligible man in New York. I want every man to know you are mine.”
I raise her hand to my lips and kiss it before I let go.
“You really shouldn’t have...” Her voice is softer now and trails off as she looks at her ring finger. I think she likes it.
Her voice is softer than before. Does my Angel like jewels?
I can’t imagine she’s submitting, but she’s wearing my ring, and for now, it’s enough.
