Page 102 of The One Night Match
FIFTY-THREE
CRUZ
It’s been two weeks since Riley came home from the hospital with a clean bill of health. After almost a week of pneumonia watch, her cuts and bruises were almost completely healed, and by some miracle, she didn’t break a single bone that night in the forest.
Does any of that stop me from hovering like a mother hen? No.
But she doesn’t seem nearly as annoyed as I thought she would. She just smiles at me indulgently every time I insist on bringing her food or water, or whatever else she could possibly want.
I’ve taken to working from home, something I plan to do as much as possible moving forward, especially seeing as the De Luca Mafia family is now completely rat-free.
It turns out that bursting into a room filled with a group of men who have been stewing overnight, completely crazed and unhinged after your wife has spent a night being chased through the forest and almost died, is all it takes for people to start singing like canaries.
There were four other rats within our ranks, and each of them has been dealt with accordingly.
Monica and her mother were banished.
As much as I wanted to see her pay for the part she played in Riley’s abduction, I don’t believe in killing women and children, no matter their crime.
Plus, I think the big dip in cash flow and social status is probably a far worse punishment for her than death would have been.
Now that we’re free of being sabotaged from the inside, the business as a whole is functioning better than ever before, which gives me more time to plan the perfect honeymoon for my wife.
One night when we were both curled up in the tiny hospital bed, she admitted that after Jeremy, she’d always been too scared to travel on her own, and that she felt like she’d missed out on seeing the world, so I’m taking her away for two full months of adventure.
Colten will take control of the business while I’m away. He’s been my number two since I stepped into my role, and it’s a good time to ensure he can do my job if something were to happen to me, especially seeing as Riley and I aren’t sure we want kids.
Maybe down the road, but for right now, we’re content with it just being the two of us and the orange demon.
Which brings me to now, where my beautiful wife, an angel on earth, is begging me to get Mr. Whiskers a friend to play with.
“Kitten, I hate to break this to you, but I think he would smother a brother or sister during the night just so he wouldn’t have to share your attention. Hell, I’m afraid he’s going to smother me in the night for the same reason.”
Riley rolls her eyes, brushing her fingers through the monster’s fur. “He would never do that, would you, Mr. Whiskers?” she coos.
“He shit in the middle of my desk last week. I don’t think we should underestimate the things this cat would do out of spite.”
She snorts, covering her face in horror at the sound that just escaped her. Like there’s anything on this earth that would make me any less attracted to her. “Can we discuss it again after our trip? I just don’t want him to be lonely when I go back to work.”
I sigh. “Fine, we’ll circle back at the end of the year.” Apparently, I’m completely incapable of saying no to my wife, and if she figures that out, she’s almost certainly going to exploit it as much as she can. “Actually, I have a couple of things I need you to sign in the office.”
Her brows tug together in confusion, but she follows me with Mr. Whiskers hot on her heels. He’s been banned from the room when no one is around to supervise him after the shitting incident, but this is annoyingly his favorite room in the house, and the one he will meow at the door of for hours if it’s closed.
I gather the documents and lay the first one on the desk for her to view.
Her eyes move over the fine writing, her brows dipping further and further as she reads. “What is this?”
“This is to remove the ninety-day clause from our marriage contract.” I place another piece of paper on top of the last. “This is to make you an equal owner in all my legitimate businesses outside of the Mafia.” And then I place the final contract on top. “And this is your letter of offer for the University of Washington, starting when school goes back after the winter break.”
Her eyes flick from me to the papers and then back to me again, but she seems lost for words if her mouth opening and closing repeatedly is anything to go by. “I got the job?” she whispers. “I only did my interview yesterday.”
“The dean fast-tracked everything as a personal favor to me,” I explain.
“Why would the dean be doing you any favors?” she asks before shaking her head. “You know what? Maybe it’s better that I don’t know.”
I chuckle and push the pen toward her. “You’re one signature away from being the new head librarian at the biggest university in Washington.”
She snatches the pen from me before signing, and when I notice the name she’s scrawling, my chest puffs out in pride.
