Page 20 of Savage Vow (Mafia Marriages 3)

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Karina

His touch is like lightning against my skin. Aurielo’s hand on the small of my back sends warm tingles throughout my body.

I haven’t slept with another man since him.

My son has kept me busy, and the thought of dating anyone hasn’t surfaced until now.

If I’m to wed Aurielo, I will probably never be on another date again.

“What’d you pack, bricks?” he mutters as we reach the final steps onto the main floor.

“I have to use something to defend myself,” I quip.

His eyes tighten, and he stops walking once we reach the landing. He drops the bag to the floor with a loud thud. Aurielo bends down and unzips my suitcase.

“Seriously?” I can’t believe he’s going to search my luggage now, after carrying it down eight flights of stairs.

He fumbles through a bunch of t-shirts, jeans, pajamas, nothing of interest to him. He lifts my black and purple see-through lace bra in his hand and inspects it with a smug grin. “Did you pack this for me?”

I jab him in the shoulder. “Put my stuff back.”

Satisfied that I’m not smuggling into his home weapons, Aurielo shuts my suitcase and zips it back up before grabbing the handle and wheeling it outside.

“About time,” Francesco mutters as we approach the vehicle. He unlocks the trunk, and Aurielo shoves my suitcase into the back before opening the back door for me to slide into the car.

Wordlessly I climb into the backseat, and Aurielo slides in beside me.

“The elevator’s out, so we had to take the stairs to the eighth floor,” Aurielo recants.

I exhale a soft breath, surprised and relieved that he isn’t divulging anything else about what happened with my sister, Ivy.

The men talk amongst themselves as I stare out the window as the city passes us by. “Where are we going?” I ask. My voice is soft and timid.

“Home,” Aurielo says.

On the right, outside of Aurielo’s window, is the lakefront.

We’re traveling north, not that I anticipate I’ll have an opportunity to escape. Besides, where would I go? I’d always be on the run, constantly looking over my shoulder, worried that he’d find us.

I don’t want that life for my son.

He deserves better.

Francesco drives several more miles before he pulls into a gated entrance. The wrought-iron fence towers above with sharp metal spikes, not letting anyone climb in or out.

The entrance has a key panel and a security camera, watching as we enter the premises.

Lush green grass covers the wide-open yard. There are trees in the distance along the fence line, giving the illusion of privacy.

The driver shuts off the engine, and Giovan steps out, opening the back door for Aurielo. He climbs out first, offering his hand for me to step out.

I hesitate for a brief second. “I can climb out on my own,” I say, sharper than I intend.

He doesn’t need to pretend that we mean something to one another.

Aurielo drops his hand and steps away, letting me step out of the vehicle while he pops the trunk and retrieves my luggage.

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