Page 110 of Captive Vows
He exhaled a long, hard breath, meeting my gaze. “He’s gone.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“You do?” He raised his brows.
“Yeah, like, the day after you killed him. Blame Emil. He mentioned something about a warehouse and Miguel, and I connected the dots.”
“I wasn’t sure if and when to tell you.”
I shrugged. “I figured. I mean, it’s not every day a daughter can wish her father dead.” Maybe in this Mafia world, it was. But for me, I clung to some of that former normalcy I had once. My gauge of good versus bad hadn't changed since marrying him and being a part of this family. I still liked to think I was a good person at heart. Wishing Miguel dead wasn’t bad of me. It was self-defense.
“Besides, when you took me out to eat for a date, I realized how at ease you were to be in public with me. That convinced methat something had to have changed, and with what I overheard Emil say, I realized he was dead.”
He nodded. “I can’t always tell you the details of what we do.”
I held my hand up, stopping him from elaborating. “Please. Keep it like that. I don’t need to know the details.”
He smiled. “Not even about that?”
“Okay.” I shrugged. “I would’ve liked to know that Miguel was no longer a threat. But still, it wasn’t necessary for you to announce it. No lost love there. And I knew youwouldkill him. I have faith that you’ll always protect me. I’m familiar with how you can keep your word.”
“I always will.”
My father was no longer a threat, no longer an issue, and I was grateful for that.
“Thank you, though.” I blew him a kiss.
Maybe I’d go to hell for thanking my husband for killing my father.
But I doubted it.
“You’re welcome,” he replied, watching me with an increasing flame of fire in his eyes.
Over the last year, I’d adjusted to so many changes. I was a mother. A wife. The head of a household. I was still a dancer, but those other roles mattered more right now.
I no longer worried about being tainted or ruined by associating with this Mafia Family. Instead of assuming the worst and seeing them as nothing but monsters and killers, I knew how fiercely they loved.
Violence was a staple in this life. The more I reacted and waited to freak out, the more I learned that it never touched me directly. It never reached me to the point that my fight-or-flight instinct would flare up.
Because I was safe. I was safer here than I ever would be anywhere else.
When I finished for the night, knowing that baby steps and a gradual approach to dancing would be the way to go, I walked toward him holding a now-sleeping Andre. My heart grew with love each time I saw them together, and I knew that it would never, ever get old.
No spells of being numb and emotionless would ever plague me again.
I had them.
And it was more than enough to fulfill me.
“Ready to get out of here?” Luka asked, carrying our son out of the studio. I sipped my water, eager to shower and get in bed.
“Ready to get out of here and be with you.” I smiled slowly, letting him figure out what I meant. I couldn’t help but remember when he told me that he’d been waiting for my happiness here, for my smile. I doubted I’d ever stop now.
“Hmm.” He put his free hand on my back. “I'll be ready for that too.”
I leaned up to kiss him, earning a low growl of desire.
“You shower and get in bed. By then, I’ll have him sleeping in his bassinet.”
