Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
I nodded. “We are, and we’ll be even better together once we know more of the other. It takes time.”
She tilted her head. “Sometimes I’m not sure you really want me to know more about you. You have very high walls. It’s hard to break through them.”
She had a point. I wanted a wife whom I could trust, but at the same time, I knew I’d have to bare my soul to her on many levels to reach the kind of trust my parents had. It was an uncomfortable thought for me. “I know. I’m working on it.”
“And please promise me you won’t hide anything from me to protect me. I can handle things, and I want to handle them.”
“I know you can.”
That night, I showed Emma just how happy I was about our bond—with my fingers, tongue and cock—despite her worry about Danilo being under the same roof. For all I cared, he could hear me giving his sister several orgasms. Thankfully, I didn’t hear anything of the sort from Sofia’s and his bedroom.
When Emma had fallen asleep, I went downstairs. Light spilled out from Danilo’s office. I needed a drink. The flask I’d taken with me was already empty. I knocked briefly, then entered the office. Danilo sat on the sofa with a tumbler in his hand and across from him was Renato. “I need a drink too.”
Danilo scanned me. My hair was slightly disheveled, and I was only in pajama pants and a shirt since it was past midnight. His expression darkened further when Renato wiggled his eyebrows. I accepted the glass of whiskey that Danilo held out to me, then sat down in the armchair beside Renato. I was still pissed at him.
We chatted about casinos and brothels, staying away from the topic of our wives. I was more than glad not to discuss my marriage with Danilo. Eventually, Danilo stopped drinking while Renato and I began a new bottle of whiskey that he offered us. It was past two in the morning, and I could tell that Danilo would have gone to bed if he trusted us alone in his office.
“I thought you wanted to leave early in the morning?” he asked.
“We do.”
“Then you’ll need a driver.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “I can drive.”
“I doubt you’ll be sober enough by morning.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “That’s none of your business.”
“But my sister’s safety is my business. A drunk driver ruined her life.”
I gritted my teeth. “Stay out of my fucking business, Danilo.”
“Come now, let’s not get into a fight over this. I can assure you Samuel can hold his liquor better than anyone else I know.”
I sent Renato a dark look. Did he really think that was a compliment?
I didn’t finish the drink in my glass.
Danilo hovered when Emma, Renato, and I got into the rental car. But he obviously realized I wasn’t still drunk—I hadn’t even been drunk last night—and let us leave without another argument. I had a feeling he had said something to Emma about my drinking, though, because she was a little tense during the ride to the airport. I didn’t ask. It wasn’t a topic I wanted to discuss with her or anyone.
A little over a month after our wedding, Emma and I had to attend our first social event in Minneapolis: my mother’s fifty-first birthday party.
Emma looked stunning in a terracotta evening dress that accentuated her narrow waist. The neckline was low, giving me a tantalizing look at the swell of her breasts. Jealousy reared its head when I considered the view many men would get.
As usual, my mother had to invite the families of every Captain. Sofia had flown in for one night too, but without Danilo because he was busy with business. Dante and his family were there too, minus my cousin Anna who was in Paris. Dante’s presence meant Dad and I could talk to him and Leonas later.
I greeted most people with a brief nod and shook the occasional hand. Most of the guests had been at our wedding as well. I could tell Emma felt uncomfortable under the force of everyone’s attention. Eventually, when we settled a little to the side in the living room with glasses of champagne, I told her, “You’ll get used to it.”
“I’m used to it,” Emma insisted. “But that doesn’t mean I like it. I keep hoping people will start ignoring me.”
“You’re the wife of the next Underboss. Nobody is ever going to ignore you. You married the wrong man for that kind of life. Will you be okay with it?”
Emma pursed her lips, then gave a small shrug. “I don’t have a choice, right?”
I shook my head. She didn’t. She’d have to attend even more social functions than me in the future to schmooze the wives of the Captains and certain politicians.