Page 25 of Stolen By the Mafia King
“That’s why you want me to wear the long flowing dress.” I only realise when he drops my skirt and it perfectly covers everything. “It will hide a gun.”
“And you can defend yourself if required. I want you to feel what I see in you. That you are powerful and beautiful and strong.”
Powerful and beautiful and strong. With this amazing man kneeling before me, I do feel all those things.
“I’ve never used a gun,” I confess in a whisper.
“You can do it,” Grant replies with absolute confidence.
He guides me through each step, from taking it from the holster on my thigh to loading a bullet and taking off the safety.
“Like this.” He readjusts my hands on the weapon as I hold it as he instructs, and immediately it feels better. “Never point it at anything you don’t want to die a painful death.”
I think of my murderous fiancé. Yeah. I wouldn’t mind.
Grant’s straightforward faith in me rubs off. I don’t want to use this gun, I don’t want to be in this situation. But where the choice is being by my future husband’s side or cowardice, there will never be a question. I will be next to the man I love. Every single time.
I knew that violence was part of the mafia, but after an attempt on my life and seeing an actual gun, the reality is now vivid. It’s all so much like something I might have watched on television.
And Grant? He’s that morally grey, swoon-worthy hero. The man you’re not supposed to want, but can’t help but fall for.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
He kneels back down and I’m so distracted by the weight of the gun on my leg that I don’t notice at first that he’s holding a ring box open. Inside is a platinum band with a massive sapphire, facets glittering in the buttery morning light.
“Really?” A part of me still can’t believe this is all for me.
“You think I’d forget,” he chides gently. “You think I’d take you to face him without my ring on your finger?”
He takes my hand and slides the ring onto the fourth finger of my left hand. It slots over my knuckle and in place, it’s like when Grant and I joined this morning. This ring is lucky. I’m sure.
“It’s gorgeous. Amazing.”
He huffs with half laughter. “It’s nothing compared to your eyes. A pale imitation. Merely the best money can buy. Beauty like yours must bestolen.”
11
GRANT
She walks downstairs with her hand lightly on my arm and we grin at each other remembering all over again how she ran from me.
No more.
Well. I’m not averse to play chasing, but she’ll never get to leave.
“Would you like to have breakfast before we see the despicable pencil?”
Jessa snorts with laughter, which is what I want. My girl shouldn’t be tense over that arsehole.
“He does look a bit like a pencil with his pinstripe suits, doesn’t he.”
“Yep.”
“Let’s eat afterwards. No need to make ourselves sick and spoil a perfectly good breakfast.”
I check with second in command that David Bree-Fogg has been thoroughly frisked for weapons and we enter the dining hall to find him sitting bolt upright at one end of the table like he owns the place. Interesting. Overconfident. I sit at the other end and pull Jessa onto my lap when she goes to take a chair. She comes easily and drapes her legs over mine and her arm over my shoulder.
The best possible ornament for me, my girl.
