Page 15 of Savage Vow (Mafia Marriages 3)

Karina’s arms wrap around my neck, keeping me close. She doesn’t push me away.

Her lips are warm, and I hear my Micetta purr, just like she did that night in the office when I bent her over the desk.

The elevator dings. The doors open, the gentlemen both step off and onto the twelfth floor. When we descend, I release my tight grip and take a firm step back.

A soft blush covers Karina’s cheeks. She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear as she avoids my stern gaze.

She did well, better than I anticipated. But I won’t say anything, not yet. There are cameras in the elevator as a security measure. Who knows if they’re listening in as well.

We reach the first floor, and I adjust my tie.

I’m sweltering inside of the elevator—sweat beads at my brow. My stomach is tangled in knots, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m forcing Karina to marry me or the fact that I want her to be my wife.

She didn’t object nearly as much as I would have thought.

Karina still hasn’t tried to run. Sure, she bolted into the elevator, but that hardly counts. I’m anticipating a chase, a game of cat and mouse, and she’s obeying my every command.

I can’t fathom why.

We head to the county clerk’s office, fill out the required paperwork, show our identification, and are hand over the marriage license.

Stepping outside, the autumn air helps cool me down.

Karina’s cheeks have returned to a slight blush and aren’t nearly as rosy as they’d been earlier in the elevator.

Giovan and Francesco are waiting outside for us.

“Took you long enough,” Francesco mutters. He’s always been a bit of a grouch.

I wrap my arm around Karina’s shoulders. Just in case she decides to flee before we get to the car. “We had a little detour trying to find the county clerk’s office,” I say.

My younger brother, Giovan, raises an inquisitive eyebrow. He doesn’t say anything, but I’m sure a dozen different thoughts are rattling through his brain.

“To the compound?” Francesco asks, as he escorts us back to the vehicle.

“Not yet. I’d like to stop by Karina’s place and let her pack a few things to take with her.”

“Is that a wise idea?” Giovan asks. He eyes Karina up and down. “She could pack a weapon.”

I glance at her as we walk along the sidewalk toward the parking garage. “Do I have to worry about you bringing a weapon?” I fully planned on accompanying her inside her home while she packed.

Her eyes widen, and she appears a bit flustered. “I don’t have any guns. Besides, I’m pretty sure you guys have that covered,” she says.

I try not to smile at her remark.

Francesco drives us to the address of her apartment. It’s on the southside, a rougher neighborhood compared to the location of the compound.

We have a house in Chicago where we also do business, but the compound is in a flourishing, upscale neighborhood north of the city. We own the entire block.

Francesco parks the car, and I climb out with her, accompanying her to the front entrance of the apartment building.

She stalls, keys in her hand.

Karina turns around to face me. “If I bring you upstairs, you’re going to scare my roommate.”

So, she doesn’t live alone.

“Is it a male roommate? A boyfriend?” I never bothered to ask if she was seeing anyone or in a relationship. I just assumed when I suggested that we marry that she was single.

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