Marrying the Mob Prince

Evie

I'm grateful that my passion is my job.

For a week, I woke up to my husband perched on a stool at the breakfast bar. A smile would tick across his rugged face, and he'd push a latte in my direction.

We developed a routine. We ate breakfast together. Sometimes he wanted me on his lap as he sipped coffee and read the news. Other days, he scooped me in his arms and took me back to bed, fucking me before he took off to do God knows what. No matter what, Tony always delivered me lunch.

I treasured these small gestures.

Even the fact that he drew pictures in my coffee's foam made my eyes well with emotion. The thoughtfulness reminded me of my mom, the things she'd done before she vanished. I never knew how much I needed this. I cherished every moment with Tony, but at the same time it freaked me out.

How long would he stay before disappearing?

He was only here out of guilt. As soon as I healed, he'd vanish, and that'd hurt like hell because I loved having him around. He was better than everyone else's husband. Nobody was as loyal or brave. I'd never known a man so ruthlessly devoted to protecting his woman. He humbled me. He was trying to stop me from being a victim of the MC, just as he had been. It made me ache for his respect and admiration, which I'd never sought from anyone.

I dreaded the moment he'd go back to wherever holdout he had before now, so I threw myself into distractions.

I fielded my dad's calls. I sketched. I worked on Tony's gift when he took showers or went for a run, and I contemplated my life, all the things I'd done to support the club. Knuckles rapped the doorframe.

I hid the object in my hands under a microfiber towel and straightened over my makeshift workbench, which Tony had set up so I could finish the pieces I'd been commissioned to do. It wasn't safe to visit the jeweler's studio, so Tony cleared his desk and let me use it.

He wasn't supposed to be here so early. The sight of my husband's well-built frame stretched out in the doorway filled me with steam. He'd tucked in a thick cotton T-shirt into navy dress pants. Brown leather, matching his loafers, cinched them tight.

"Hi, honey."

Tony approached with a half-cocked smirk, amusement flickering in his deep eyes. He bent and kissed my cheek, setting off fireworks beneath my skin.

I turned my head, my lips brushing his ear. "My ass still has marks from your hand."

"I know," he said, his voice warming. "You showed me during your striptease."

I bit my lip as Tony's face wrinkled with a small grin. It'd been in the morning. The memory of Tony's cock from the night before got me so wet that I plugged in the camera facing the bed. I texted Tony. Then I sat right in front of it and...played with myself. After I'd finished, my phone pinged with an emoji from Tony.

A flame.

"I figured it'd get your attention."

"It got me through a tedious meeting. Thank God I turned off the sound." His low laughter tingled across my face like tiny electrical shocks. "You make the most delicious moans when you come. I might set them as my ringtone." He heard me?

I toyed with my hair, hot around my neck. "I didn't realize the cameras picked up sound, too."

"They sure do."

He pulled up a chair and sat behind me, his presence sucking the air from the room. My pulse slammed my throat as he leaned forward, his mouth finding the space between my neck and shoulder. "What are you up to?"

"Working," I whispered, finding it hard to concentrate with the lips pressing into me. "Are you going to sit there?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"It makes me self-conscious."

He made a discontented sound. "Why? I have no idea what I'm looking at. It's not like a painting. I can't see it coming together."

"Well, I'm not ready to show you."

"Intriguing."

He moved closer, his fingers encircling my wrist. The rough bite and my position reminded me of a few nights ago. I'd unsuccessfully tried to block those hellish hours I spent naked, tied up, and drugged. I wheeled around in my chair, sorrow centering over my chest.

"Tony, I've been thinking...I know I should let it go, but I can't stop thinking about them. There were so many girls." I took his hand and traced his calluses. "What's going to happen to them?" "Nothing good."

The bluntness turned my stomach. "Can't we save them?"

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"Put it from your mind, Evie."

"How can you say that?"

"This is what I do for a living. I've worked for years to disrupt them and I've barely dented their operations. Busting trafficking rings isn't as simple as calling the police. They have connections everywhere. The only reason I found you was because I know someone who knows someone." He shot me a hard-eyed glare, startling me. "They're dangerous, and there's nothing a twenty-two-year-old can do about it."

"That's not true. I could make a statement to the FBI."

Tony's mouth hardened. "That won't get you anywhere. Trust me."

His stern attitude baffled me.

"Tony, I can't just do nothing!"

"I'm not telling you to do nothing, but I want you to set realistic goals for yourself."

"What does that mean?"

"Play to your strengths." He scooped my hand in his and pressed his lips to my knuckles. "You're an amazing jewelry designer. Make a line of bracelets and give a percentage of the proceeds to an anti-trafficking charity. Cut the MC out of your life."

How would that help anything?

I shook my head. "I don't know."

"Follow your heart, Evie. It'll never lead you wrong."

Tony rubbed my back as the gravity of that sank in my chest.

My heart wanted me to do stupid things, like give my body to my husband whenever he wanted. It begged me to float into his arms, hold him tight, and never let him go. It was sick of fighting. I met his gaze. His eyes were like black satin, beautiful and dark.

"What if it wants you?" I left my chair for his lap, winding my arms around his neck. "I want you, raw and unfiltered. Rough sex. Romantic dates. You holding me when I sleep."

He smiled. "Anything else?"

"Model jewelry for me. My social media page needs content, and you have nice hands."

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He let out an incredulous laugh. He gave them a glance, and shrugged. "Never heard that before."

"It was one of the first things I noticed about you."

"Not for me." Tony's gaze fell to my neck and down my halter top, and his voice dipped to a sultry caress. "I was preoccupied with your mouth and how badly I wanted to use my cock to shut it up."

"Too bad you didn't. It would've salvaged the night."

He laughed. "I doubt that very much."

"Who am I to criticize how a man makes love to his wife?"

He grinned, shaking his head. "God, I wish I had a pair of your rainbow-colored glasses."

I mimed taking them off and setting them on his nose. "Your turn. What do you want?"

"What do I want," he mused, dragging his fingers through his hair. "Besides taking out my wife and having her float on cloud nine all night, I can't think of anything."

A baby.

A family.

"Tony, it's been five months. What happens in a year, when I'm not pregnant?"

"We stay together."

"What if I want kids with you?"

My heart broke as his eyes shuttered. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. Doubt flickered in my mind as Tony's phone shattered the agonized silence. He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as he pulled away to answer. I imagined him leaving me in the same way as my mother.

Mom hadn't stuck around. Dad was a lying sociopath. My husband was the only stable element in my life, and he was an unpredictable beast. He was forced into marriage. Sticking it out for me.

For now.

How long before his promises were broken?