Page 2 of Boardwalk Queen

I wasn’t going to hurt her.

Dropping to one knee beside Vittoria’s chair, I felt like my throat was about to close up. I opened my mouth to speak, my tongue so dry I had to swallow.

Why was this so hard?

It wasn’t nerves.

I had a steady hand and never faltered when I killed a man. I didn’t think twice when I pulled the trigger.

But marriage?

Fuck, no.

Vittoria Vitale had long, dark hair that looked like she’d stuck her finger in an electrical outlet and then tried to tame the mess with gel. Even the makeup on her face didn’t help enhance her features.

As Dante said, she was hideous.

Bruttissima.

I would never treat Vittoria like a wife. I’d never fuck her or have children with her.

I wanted Ava.

But the past was repeating itself.

To keep Ava in my life, she would have to play the same role as my mother and be my mistress. My dad loved and provided for her, but they couldn’t marry.

Would Ava go for it?

I should have said something before I fucked her, but I wasn’t ready to let her go.

She was mine.

On one knee beside Vittoria’s chair, I opened the velvet box my father had shoved into my hand before they arrived. A ten-carat diamond that screamed, I have too much fucking money.

So I imagined Ava sitting before me as I said, “Will you marry me?”

Even when I slipped the ring onto Vittoria’s meaty finger, I thought about my girl.

Was it love?

I wasn’t sure.

It was something.

Obsession.

Possession.

I’d never felt any of those things with another woman. So that had to count for something. Every word I spoke to her was the truth. Ava knew the real Nicodemus Luciano, and I couldn’t say anyone else did.

Only her.

After I proposed, we split into groups. My brothers were in the sitting room with my dad and the Vitale men. Mom kept the Vitale wives entertained in the kitchen, telling them stories about her years as a dancer. She was so good at bullshitting her way through these kinds of events.

It came naturally to her.

Me, not so much.

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