Page 110 of Cassio (Belles & Mobsters 3)

“I am a killer, Butterfly. I have been for a long time. It leaves a mark on the soul. I fought my father before the mission I took for Callahan, but it was you that gave me purpose.” Her eyes reflected confusion. “When I found you, something in me shifted. I found a purpose… my purpose… to stop all men that used vulnerable women, girls, boys, anyone. And it was you that kicked it all off.”

She was mine and I was hers. Eleven years ago, I might have saved her, but she also saved me. She set the course that my friends and I have been on for the past decade, rescuing women from the vicious trafficking business.

I never thought we’d see each other again, that she’d be my catalyst for a new life I desperately wanted. Two years ago, she made something inside of me restart. A dance and tentative kiss made my entire world fade and leave her in the center of my universe.

She was my woman. I’d have a family with her. Children. Happy life. All. I simply wanted it all with her.

“You know what you asked me eleven years ago before Luca and I left?”

Our eyes locked and she shook her head.

“You asked me to kill them all. And I fucking did.” Her mouth parted. “All except one,” I added.

Realization flashed on her face.

“Except for Marco,” she whispered in a low voice.

ChapterThirty-Five

CASSIO

It wasn’t exactly the subject for our wedding night. But here we were, and it seemed to help to settle her worry. She wasn’t broken, far from it. She was strong and resilient.

“I’m going to take a quick shower. Is that okay?”

I nodded. “I’m going to get some work done. I’ll be in my office.”

An hour later, I heard her clunking around the kitchen, but I remained at my desk. She knew where I was, and I wanted her to get used to the space here. She brought a few of her things up but all her stuff was still downstairs. There was no need to rush her. All that mattered was that she was here, with me.

A knock came at the door and I raised my eyes to find her head poking through the open door.

Her hair was wet, the unique smell that I associated only with her drifting through the air. She wore a bathrobe, one of mine, that pretty much swallowed her small frame. Yet, it felt right seeing her in it.

She cleared her throat and her cheeks turned light red. “Are you hungry for dinner?”

I grinned. “You are joking, right?”

She chuckled. “Yeah. That pizza was too much. Ummm, I made a fruit platter.” She flushed deep red, spreading down her neck, chest and disappearing into the robe. I eyed her, curious why she was blushing. “Want to do a movie and fruit?”

“Sure.” I stood up and reached her in three big strides.

The moment we entered the living room, I realized why she was blushing. The fruit platter was full of pineapples, strawberries, blackberries, and more pineapples.

Pineapples. Our encounter in Vegas.

Both of us sat down on the couch, I reached for the fresh pineapple with my fork and raised it to her soft mouth.

“Open,” I ordered. Her ocean blue eyes met mine and without hesitation, she obeyed. Her lips closed over the fork and my cock hardened. Jesus, even a simple innocent act like this had me losing my mind with this woman.

She chewed the fruit and swallowed. “I remember you don’t like sharing silverware,” I drawled. “This can be your fork.”

She chuckled. “Do you remember everything?”

“Only when it comes to you.”

“More pineapple?” I asked her, hunger in my eyes.

She nodded and I offered another forkful. After she was done chewing, she gave me a side glance, and I knew the next thing out of her mouth would be a smartass comment even before it came. “You haven’t had any pineapple,” she murmured teasingly.

---