Page 89 of Of Murder and Matrimony

“There’s only one kind of begging I want to see from you,” he rasped, his gaze heating. “And the only name on your lips will be mine.”

“I love you.” My nipples hardened, and I squirmed against him, arousal bursting to life low in my belly. “Take me home, Dante.”

He tore his gaze from mine and nodded at his men. “Let them go.”

None of them questioned Dante, but a few were slow to lower their weapons. A pointed look from their leader quickened their response.

Adrik nodded. “Thank you.”

“Get out of here,” Dante snapped. “I might change my mind.”

He turned his back on my brothers, showing them he didn’t see them as a threat, and practically threw me into the back seat of his SUV. When he was in, and the door closed, Stefano threw the car into gear and took off. He and Filippo kindly pretended they didn’t see Dante pull me into his lap and practically maul me on the drive home.

I was too lost in my husband’s arms to give a fuck. He was my breath. My life. My love.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

My wife was home. My heart once again settled in my chest where it belonged. In me and next to me in bed as I stroked her hair after we’d fucked for hours. No, not fucked. We’d made passionate love like nothing I’d experienced. I guess absence did make the heart grow fonder. And the cock last longer.

“Don’t kill them, okay?” Olesya murmured sleepily into my chest.

She’d asked the same thing at least a dozen times in the day and a half. “I told you I’d do my best. If they shoot first, all bets are off.”

I looked down to find her biting her lip nervously. “They won’t. Just hear them out.”

“I will,” I promised. I’d wanted a truce from the beginning, if only to protect my family from becoming casualties, but I still needed answers.

“You can kill Ilya if you want,” she whispered. I bristled at the hint of anger in her voice.

“What did he do?” She was silent for too long. “Tell me, Olesya. I’m not above burning the city down to find out.”

“He’s always been a creep,” she explained, her voice louder. “He wants me. Tried to… he climbed on top of me… but Yuri came home.”

“Did you tell your brothers?” Rage clouded my vision, tinting everything shades of red. I couldn’t imagine they’d let something like that slide.

Olesya shook her head. “He threatened me.”

“He’s a dead man,” I vowed, my arms tightening around her. “He will never touch you again. I’ll rip his heart out and—”

“Please.” She pressed her fingers to my lips. “I don’t want to know the details.”

“Sorry.” I kissed her forehead and lingered there, reluctant to climb out from under the covers and face the rest of the world. I felt myself relaxing with her warmth against my chest, her soft breaths puffing warmly on my skin.

“Dante.” I must have dozed off. Olesya was poking me in the chest. “Aren’t you going to be late?”

I glanced at the clock, startled to see how much time had passed. “Possibly. I doubt they’ll start without me, though.”

“Your father isn’t going?” she asked.

“No,” I confirmed, rolling over and standing, feeling empty without my wife filling my arms. “I didn’t tell him about the meeting.”

I quickly showered and dressed in my signature black suit, then leaned over to kiss Olesya, where she still lay in bed. “I love you. I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you too.” She fervently returned my kiss, tempting me to skip the meeting altogether. She must have sensed that because she pushed me away. “Go. Good luck.”

I turned and left her before I threw my responsibilities out the window and fucked myself over. It didn’t take long to get to O’Connor’s, the pub run by the Irish Mob. If you peered through the windows, it looked like a typical Saturday night, with patrons filling the bar stools and tables, some throwing darts or playing pool. I walked around the building to the rear entrance, rapping out a rhythm with my knuckles.

A tall, bulky man in black jeans and a black leather jacket opened the door, gun in hand. “They’re waitin’ for ye.”

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