Marrying the Mob Prince

33



Six Months Later

I’m grateful our baby is healthy.

Tony rolled onto his stomach.

He lay beside me, out cold, his nakedness on full display. Heat stole into my face as my eyes raked over his devastating appeal. A sliver of light peeked through the curtains, stroking his muscled shoulders, gorgeous back dimples, and steel thighs. His wild hair stuck out in all directions, untamed, just like the rest of him. Saturating the sheets and filling my lungs like a pleasant steam was vanilla scent mingled with pure masculinity.

He was so close, the heat of his body burning mine. At the base of my throat, a pulse beat and swelled. I buried my face in his neck and breathed a kiss. My body ached in all the places he’d filled last night.

My pulse skittered at the sight of my husband’s strong, olive-skinned body. Even in sleep, the ghost of a Viking warrior clung to him. He flipped over with a deep sigh, his arm flopping over my waist. It flexed, anchoring over my baby bump. Then he pulled me into his steel embrace, burrowing me against his chest where his mouth found my shoulder in a lazy kiss.

Since the clubhouse, I never woke up without him. He’d changed so much in those six months, embracing the role of soon-to-be father so enthusiastically, it was hard to believe he’d once told me he never wanted children.

Shortly after the disaster at the clubhouse, we went to Italy for a belated honeymoon. I needed distance from the chaos. My father’s imprisonment was the death knell on the Boston chapter. The national president shut down the club after it was raided by Vinn’s soldiers.

We bought a house blocks away from his cousins, Vinn and Michael. The area had good schools, an amazing park, and all the amenities I’d wanted as a kid. My favorite part of those first weeks was breaking the news to Tony’s mother.

The baby was getting more and more real. I caught Tony staring at the sonogram, which he’d taken a picture of and saved on his phone. He looked at it as though bewildered by its existence.

“Honey, wake up. I have a present for you.”

Tony made a noise, his voice husky with sleep.Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

“I got you something for our one-year anniversary.”

I rolled over and grabbed the box from the nightstand, pushing it into Tony’s hands. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. A bemused grin tugged at his full lips as he unwrapped the silver paper.

“You got me jewelry?” He popped open the felt box and gasped. “Holy shit. I remember this.”

Tony gaped at the gleaming rose-gold watch he’d offered to buy ages ago. He splayed it on his olive skin and closed the clasp, admiring it on his wrist.

“You can’t give this to me.”

“I’ll do whatever I want,” I murmured, kissing his naked shoulder. “Do you like it?”

“I fucking love it. It’s awesome.” Tony leaned over and pressed his mouth to my temple. “Thank you.”

“Check the back.”

He took it off and flipped it over, beaming. His thumb traced the words etched on the gold.

Resta con me per sempre.

– Evie

“So you figured it out.”

I pursed my lips. “I said it to Christian while visiting him.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. I wanted to see how he’d react. He got super quiet. Then he told me what it really meant.” I put my hands on my hips, my mouth thinning. “Stay with me forever.”

Tony chuckled. “Awkward.”

“Tell me about it. I had to backpedal hard and convince him that I did not have a crush on him-with Jen in the room, so thanks for that.”

Tony’s booming laughter filled the bedroom.

Christian had made a shaky recovery and Jennesy still visited him in rehab, and it filled my heart to watch them together. She’d been forced to leave the club’s property when the national president put it up for sale, but Tony and I set up a fund so that none of the women were homeless.

“I’m hiring a new teacher,” I told Tony. “You’re a saboteur.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I am. Our kid will speak broken Italian if I don’t get a handle on this.”

“It’ll be fine.” He wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. “I’ll talk to him only in Italian. So will my mom. You can speak to him in English.”

“I want him to have Italian lessons, too.”

“No way, hon. He’s going to public school. No extra classes. No dancing. He’ll be so much happier for it.”

“Tony.”

“I’m not budging on this.”

I released a frustrated sigh, annoyed that we couldn’t find common ground. We couldn’t decide on a name and had different visions for our son’s future. I wanted to give him every opportunity to excel, but Tony was adamant that public schooling would keep him grounded.

I slid off the bed and wrapped myself in a robe, grumbling all the way to the breakfast bar.

Tony, following close behind, balled me in a fierce hug that squeezed the breath from my lungs.

“I have a present for you, too.”

I looked for it, but he shook his head.

“Get dressed.”

Half an hour later, we rode in an elevator of a luxury hotel. I played with Tony’s lapels and kissed his firm mouth, which barely yielded to my touch. He was fidgety. His eyes shifted from the door to me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was nervous.

“Is everything okay?”

He took my hand, his palm clammy. “Evie, there’s one thing I never told you. I found out something months ago and kept it to myself.”

“What did you do?”

“Me? Nothing. It’s what your father did.”

I stared at him, bewildered. I hadn’t seen my dad in months. His lawyers tried to contact me for his defense, but I told them to fuck off. His human trafficking trial loomed over my head. He used me to help him, and it was possible the investigation could zero in on me.

“Do we have to talk about this right now?”

“Yes,” he said, pulling me into the hallway. “Trust me, you want to see what’s behind this door.”

My stomach fluttered as he stopped me in front of a room, more worried than I’d ever seen him.

His mouth whitened as he slashed the card through the keypad. It beeped, unlocking the door.

Then it swung inward.

Grim-faced, Tony nudged me inside. I strolled onto the carpet and gaped at the woman on the queen-sized bed. She wore a beige cardigan over a light purple tank top.

“Mom?”

She sprang off the mattress and we crashed into each other’s arms. Wild sobbing burst from her as she clung to my shoulders, wrapping me in her lilac scent.

All the questions could wait.

I had my family back.


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