Page 55 of Forgotten Deeds

It’s going to take time to prove to my little angel just how much I worship her. I’m up for the challenge.

Chapter Twenty-One

Lily

“I’ve got so much to do,” I comment as Darius drives us home from the airport. Grabbing a notebook and pen out of my backpack, I start a list. “First, I need to contact my landlord to see if I can get out of my lease.” Unlikely, as the man’s a complete asshole.

“Give me his name. I’ll handle it,” Darius says.

“How?”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Never mind.” There are some things about my husband’s “work” I really don’t need to know. I give him the name, and that taken care of, I move on to the next items on my list—scheduling the electricity, water, internet, and streaming service to be shut off. “Where should I have my mail forwarded?”

He rattles off an address, and I write it down. “That’s my gym. Don’t give out our home address to anyone. Ever.” Another reality of my husband’s “work.”

We reach my house, and Darius parks on the street—only because a Parisi Construction truck is blocking the driveway, with men carrying out Iris’ bedroom dresser. My mouth falls open, and Darius takes his finger and closes it with an amused expression. “How did they even get in?” I wonder.

“I told you your place wasn’t safe.” He hops out and opens my door before getting Iris out of her car seat.

“Darius, a word,” I say sharply.

“You get in trouble a lot,” Iris tells Darius, and he throws his head back with laughter.

“Sweetie, why don’t you play outside,” I tell her, escorting her to the backyard and opening the gate, closing it behind us.

She takes off for her rickety swing set, and I turn to Darius. “I don’t like—”

“Not being in control over this process?” He finishes for me. “I know.”

“That’s not what I was going to say!”

“Then what don’t you like?” he challenges

Not being in control over this process!

He smiles, knowing he’s right. “Come on,” he says, taking my hand.

We step inside through the back door, finding several burly men speaking to each other in Italian. They fist bump Darius, who likewise says something in Italian. I need to up my foreign language game around my husband.

“This is my wife, Lily,” Darius says proudly, introducing me to the movers.

“Hello,” I say.

“Ma’am,” one of the men says. “We’ve already packed up everything from your daughter’s room. Tell us what else you would like moved?”

“Everything in my office, please. The rest of my things, I need some time to sort through.” The thought of these men pawing through my stripper outfits in my closet has me breaking out in a cold sweat.

“Not a problem.” They take off down the hall.

Walking to my bedroom, I raise the blinds so I can keep an eye on Iris, who’s swinging.

Darius joins me carrying several boxes, and I get to work, going through my closet and boxing up my clothes.

“Darius, we’re gone,” a worker says from the doorway, and I shove a black pleaser behind my back before turning around; the move causes Darius to chuckle quietly.

“Thanks, man,” Darius answers.

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