Page 74 of Of Murder and Matrimony

I bit my lip. “I feel like there’s a but in there.”

“I’m not in control of the mafia or the traditions that have been passed down,” he said with a sigh. “The most I can do is turn a blind eye.”

“It’s not fair,” I protested, crossing my arms over my stomach.

“You’re right. But very little about this life is fair. It’s no secret that once you’re in, the only way out is death.” Dante pinned me with a knowing look. “If you were ever to suspect somebody was about to be exposed, the best thing you could do is let it slip that you saw him with a woman or heard about him fucking a woman. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

It was the best answer I was going to get out of him. At least I could be reasonably sure Diego was safe under Dante’s leadership. “Yes, I understand.”

Dante grunted his approval, and I reached for the spoon, scooping up some fudge and licking it clean. He snatched the spoon away with a smirk.

“I thought we might have a date tomorrow.” Dante paused and glanced at the clock on the stove. “Tonight. We could go to Angelo’s.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?” I asked, memories of the last dinner at the restaurant taking the joy from our moment together.

“I’d bring more men,” he offered, careful to only scoop out fudge-less ice cream on his next bite. “Or we could stay here. I could have Martina make whatever you’d like, and we could shut ourselves away in the family room with a movie.”

I nodded at that idea. “Let’s do that. That way, you can carry me to bed when I fall asleep halfway through whatever action movie you choose.”

“Who said it would be an action movie?” Dante placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense. “I’m a man of varied taste.”

“I can’t remember you ever choosing something that didn’t have guns and explosions,” I teased, thinking back to Friday nights when we were kids, all the Neretti children piling onto the couches for popcorn and movies.

“Maybe not,” he admitted reluctantly, feeding me another bite of ice cream. “But I can compromise and watch what you want this time. I’ve survived a romantic comedy or two.”

“I’m going to make you watch the sappiest movie I can find,” I threatened playfully.

He raised a brow at me. “Then I’m going to have the last bite of ice cream.”

“No!” I shrieked, realizing we’d hit the bottom of the container.

I wrestled the spoon away, knowing full well he’d let me win, and ate the last bit of the fudgy dessert. He chuckled as I slid off the stool and threw out the container. His big body blocked me in as I rinsed the spoon, his hands resting on the counter on either side of my body. I shivered when his warmth bled through my sweatshirt.

“How does everything feel?” Dante whispered against my ear, kissing my neck and sliding his hands down my sides to palm my ass, his fingers grazing over the cleft. “I thought maybe we could end our date with a repeat performance.”

“Hmm,” I murmured, pressing my ass back into the ridge of his hard cock. I felt a twinge of arousal in my center. “Your performance was exceptional. I’d be open to an encore.”

His hand slid around the front of my sweatpants, his fingers pressing against the fabric to stimulate my clit. I moaned quietly and leaned back against his chest. He wrapped his other arm around my waist, holding me in place.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “The things I want to do to you, wife.”

“Step the fuck away from my sister,” a familiar voice hissed threateningly.

I gasped, and Dante spun around, blocking me with his large body.

“How did you get in here?” my husband demanded.

I peered around his arm to find my brother Yuri standing across from us with a raised gun, a silencer affixed to the weapon. His close-cropped blonde hair caught the moonlight, shining like a ghostly beacon, a stark contrast to his all-black outfit. He’d bulked up in the last decade, his muscles built from years of physical exertion instead of days in the gym. It was like seeing a stranger who reminded you of somebody you used to know.

He waved the firearm at Dante, and I began to shake with fear. “If you don’t move aside, I’ll shoot you where you stand, and my sister can frolic in your blood like a child in a puddle on a rainy day.”

The idea of my husband dead at my feet terrified me, so I stepped around his bulk, holding my arms out to the side. Dante tried to pull me back, but I shoved his hands off me. My voice trembled as I pleaded with my brother, “Don’t hurt him, Yuri.”

“Get out of the way, Olesya,” Yuri ordered, keeping his gun aimed at Dante’s head.

“No,” I said more forcefully. “I’ll never forgive you if you kill my husband.”

Confusion flickered across my brother’s face, and he glanced at me quizzically for a second before returning his gaze to Dante. “I’ll kill him if you don’t come with me now.”

---