Page 47 of Beautiful Devil

Running the Boston Mafia, my mind is constantly running with a million and one things. I’m up sometimes until three in the morning with associate meetings and torturing sessions. Other times, I’m woken up with urgent phone calls regarding ambushes, shootings, or wars that my enemies have started.

I picture Gia’s face this morning when I woke up, lying on her side facing me with her hands under her cheek and pretending to sleep. It gave me a chance to study her angelic face and gave me the courage to say the things to her that I wish I could tell her when she’s awake. I just hope one day she’ll understand that I’m not proud of what I’ve had to do…with forcing her to marry me.

I wanted nothing more than to rip her clothes off earlier and lose myself in her. I’ve thought about her pussy, how tight and wet it would feel to be balls-deep in. I knew she was turned on when I leaned over her in bed. I could see it in her eyes, how they darkened with desire and how her breathing turned shallow.

It took every bit of my restraintnotto touch her. I needed to say something, so I said the first thing my dumb ass could come up with, which was taking her out to dinner tonight. No doubt she’d want to be doing anything other than entertaining me over candlelight, but it was either that or fuck her until she couldn’t walk for the next two days. Something tells me she isn’t there…yet.

I’m brought out of my daydream when my office door opens, and in walks Marco looking like shit. I hold back my laughter as I take in his face. Two black eyes, a swollen cheek and a clearly broken nose, covered in a piece of medical tape. If he notices my reaction, he doesn’t acknowledge it. When he speaks, it’s in the same dry tone as always. Gone is the concernedcuginothat was here last night and in his place is my right-hand man.

“I sent two teams to follow Mrs. Moretti today. I’ve heard from them, and everything seems to be fine, nothing out of the ordinary.”

At the mention of my wife’s new name, my dick twitches and a strange feeling crosses over my chest. Before I can respond, my phone pings on my desk. I already know who it is before I check it. I told Luigi to update me every fifteen minutes. I wasn’t taking any chances having my new wife of twenty-four hours be kidnapped when I told her the only way to protect her from exactly that was by marrying me. I plan to keep that promise and protect her.

Luigi:Gia’s friend showed up. They’re currently walking around the mall.

Me:Her name is Mrs. Moretti and I suggest you get it through your head before I bash it in two.Capisce?

Anger surges through me at the fact that he would refer to her as anythingbutMrs. Moretti. No doubt Gia herself had something to do with this. Not ten seconds later, he texts back.

Luigi:Yes, sir. Sorry boss. Mrs. Moretti asked me to never call her that and to only call her Gia. Won’t happen again, sir.

A small smile crosses my face as I think about my feistygattina. Marco takes notice by clearing his throat and raising an eyebrow in question. Ignoring him, I turn my attention back to my phone.

Me:How is she? How does she seem?

Luigi:Which one, boss?

Me:Mywife,stronzo.

Luigi:Ahh, right. She seems happy sir, very happy. She hasn’t stopped smiling since we met her friend.

At that, a full smile takes over my face. I knew it was a risk having the two of them meet up. The last thing I want to do right now is draw attention to her, but I needed to show her I’m not a jackass. Well, notallthe time, anyway.

Dio mio, who the fuck am I right now? Rolling my eyes at myself, I type a message out before setting it down on my desk.

Me:Good. Keep a close eye on both of them and continue to update me every 15 minutes unless something happens.

I fold my arms across my chest and look up at Marco. He has his ankle folded over his knee and looks way too big to be sitting in that chair, but I guess when you’re almost seven feet tall, no chair really suits you.

“Was that Luigi?”

This is the time when I usually bark his head off and tell him to mind his own fucking business, but I don’t. I’m in a good mood for once, and I can tell he notices when his eyes widen at my response.

“Yeah, he was telling me that Elle made it there safely and everything is fine.”

He nods his head, and I can tell he wants to say something but is rightfully hesitant to after what transpired last night when he spoke his mind. I can’t promise I won’t beat the shit out of him again, but I let the curiosity best me.

“What?”

“Nothing, boss.”

“Bullshit,cugino. You have something to say. Spit it out or go do your actual job instead of sitting here on your ass.”

“I’m sure Mrs. Moretti was happy to see her friend. That was nice of you, Fab. After…” He trails off, but I can read between the lines.

After what happened yesterday.

After I forced her to marry me.

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