Page 44 of Wedlocked

“Come on,” I said stiffly. “I want to show you something.”

She bit her bottom lip, then allowed me to clasp her hand, our fingers intertwining as I led her through the grassy park featuring a backdrop of the Manhattan skyline, all of which was presided over by the iconic Lady Liberty.

“What’s all this?” she questioned in a high-pitched voice, her eyes wide as she took in the picnic blanket and basket, the champagne bottle sitting in a bucket of ice.

“It’s lunch,” I said with a small smile, pleased by her reaction despite my internal fight against her enticement.

“But how did you—“

She shook her head. “Silly question, you have all the money in the world. Still, I didn’t think someone from the mafia, a don at that, would ever be this…romantic.”

“Being ruthless doesn’t make me crass.”

She didn’t need to know that I’d never done anything like this for a woman before. Or that I’d called in Valentino, my enforcer, to keep watch so that I could relax knowing my wife was safe.

I nodded at the far-off bearded man who somehow blended into the background, becoming invisible despite his menacing presence. No one knew his age though I guessed he was close to forty going by the flecks of gray through his beard and hair. He was somewhat anonymous and clearly wanted to stay that way. And no one pushed for information he didn’t want to freely give out.

Though I trusted my brothers with my life, I didn’t trust that they wouldn’t question my logic and my feelings for bringing my wife here. Valentino never questioned orders; he’d always simply done what my father asked.

Now he did what I asked.

I didn’t even mind that he disappeared for weeks on end until I needed him. He was always just a phone call away. I didn’t want a live-in enforcer to keep me safe; I had enough men already for that job. No, Valentino’s presence was as much for a show of power as it was to use his lethal skills as a hitman. Few would dare to cross me, Valentino just reinforced that.

She blinked at me. “I never said you were crass.”

I nodded. “I know, but it was implied.” At the tightening of her lips, I laughed and said, “It doesn’t matter, you’re not the first person to judge me, and you won’t be the last.”

She sank onto her knees on the picnic blanket, then looked up at me with wounded eyes. “Why do I feel like a terrible person now?”

I joined her on the picnic blanket, then reached out and clasped her hands. My eyes searched her beautiful silver-gray stare. “On the contrary, I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect wife.”

“I wish I could believe you,” she said quietly. And this time I knew she was implying what I still planned to do to her. That I couldn’t ease her doubts made me wonder if I should have brought her here for a picnic, after all.

I didn’t want to instill hope in her, no matter if it was just a glimmer.

She shook her head. “Never mind. Let’s just enjoy our picnic.” She withdrew the champagne from its ice bucket. “I was going to ask if it was too early for a drink, but I guess it’s never too early to celebrate.”

“This is our honeymoon,” I agreed.

Her eyes grew distant, her tone even farther away. “Right.”

I refrained from a need to reassure her. Anything I said would be a lie if I did, anyway. Instead I took the champagne bottle from her and popped the cork, pouring her a glass and handing it to her.

She nodded thanks, then sipped her drink while I unpacked the basket from a catering company. I’d asked for something tasty but simple and they’d delivered exactly that. Roast beef and chutney sandwiches, a cheese platter with cold meats, crackers, olives and pickled onions, a bunch of grapes, and for dessert, chocolate dipped strawberries with a small jug of cream.

We ate silently, enjoying the outdoors along with the food. I grinned. The company wasn’t bad, either. I only hoped she felt the same way. Either way, it was nice not to think about anything but this moment.

Soon enough I’d be returning to the real world, where illegal crimes and nefarious activities—mostly covered up by corrupt law enforcement thanks to their side hustle of hush money—made me outrageously wealthy.

My gaze roamed over my wife’s face, her beautiful skin still marred slightly by the bruise. I hid a frown, not wanting to spoil the moment. Had someone actually dared to touch her while I’d been absent on our wedding night? I’d never believed her story about hitting her face on the side of the bed, but no one would have gotten past my brothers and I trusted them with my life.

What about your wife’s life?

I exhaled slowly. I couldn’t allow my personal feelings for Sabrina to get in the way of my sound judgement. I would not turn on any of my capos. Which really only left my advisor, Carlo.

Son of a bitch. Surely not even he would risk such a brazen move? Hurting my wife was akin to hurting me.

Punishable by death.

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