Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Which means I’m surrounded by enemies. My father, the capos, my men, even my wife.
Everyone wants to kill me.
And I say, let them fucking try.
“You know, I’ve been thinking.” She sounds pensive and tired.
I open my eyes and turn my head toward her. “Think silently.”
She ignores me. “This is our wedding night, you know.” Her cheeks are pink and she’s staring at the ring on her finger. “It’s the closest thing we’ll get, anyway. You ever think about what your wedding night might be like?”
My blood thrums through my veins and I can taste her on my lips again.
“If you’re trying to make a point, I’m listening.”
“I’m just saying, it feels weird, that’s all. Have you ever thought about it? Your wedding, I mean.”
“No, not really. Not until I met you. Now all I think about is what a nice wedding night we could’ve had if you didn’t want to kill me.”
She smiles at that. “It’s just so strange. We’re on a plane and we’re married now, and I barely know you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Well, is Luca your full name? Or is that short for something?”
I shake my head. “That’s it, just Luca. Luca Leone Valverde.”
“Does this mean I’m Kacia Valverde now?”
“Yes, it does.”
She bristles, looking annoyed. “No chance I can keep my name?”
“Flower, your name represents everything my family hates. Your name tried to kill a lot of my friends and succeeded in killing more than a few, including my brother. So no, you don’t get to keep your name. You’re a Valverde, like it or not.”
She stares at me, eyes wide. I clench my jaw and instantly regret saying that. Why the hell did I have to mention Cab right now? That’s one of the worst memories I have, and the pain from the brutal way the Greeks killed him still haunts me to this day. She’s talking about wedding nights, and I mention my murdered younger brother instead.
“I didn’t know you had a brother.”
“It doesn’t matter. He’s gone now. You had nothing to do with it.”
“But my family did.”
“Yes, your family did. Drop it.”
She chews on her lip. “My brothers were named Atticus and Karanos. By the way.”
“Good for them.” I hesitate, not wanting to engage with this, but can’t help myself. “What were they like?”
“They were assholes.” She smiles to herself and looks at her fingers again, staring at the ring. “Karanos used to joke that one day I’d marry a Greek man and have Greek babies and even then I’d still be a stupid American girl.”
“He sounds like an asshole.”
“He was. They both were. My dad was the worst of them, though.”
The plane hits some turbulence and she moves closer, clenching her jaw. My hand finds her thigh and she holds onto my forearm, and she looks up at me quickly, blinking rapidly. There’s a moment when she could move away and put space between us, but she doesn’t.
“I’m sorry you had a hard relationship with your family. What about your mother?”
“Died giving birth to me. We have that in common. It’s part of why my dad hated me so much.” She smiles bitterly. “It’s why he called me his thorn.”
“I can see how that might fuck you up.”
“Yeah, well, it’s pretty normal in families like ours, right?”
“My father hasn’t been the kindest man in the world, if that’s what you’re wondering. And I suspect he won’t be kind to you, either.”
“I’m assuming he won’t.”
My fingers tighten their grip on her leg. Her supple, lovely leg, in the back of a dimly lit private plane, with everyone else distracted. On our wedding night.
“But I’ll show you around New York. Introduce you to people, show you things.” I lean down, hand moving up her leg toward that warm crease. “Teach you some things, too.”
She chews her lip. “I hate you, you know.”
“Good.”
“Don’t you want a wife that cares about you?”
“Not really.” I find the button to her jeans and flip it open with ease. “What the fuck do I need love for? When I have this.” She releases a soft breath, staring around like someone might see, but fuck them. These men are my brothers. And they’re all busy doing something else. I slip my hand down the front of her jeans and she spreads her legs with a soft gasp.
“I always thought I’d marry someone I cared about. I mean, I always hoped I would. Maybe not love, but something close to it.” She bites her lip hard as I slowly stroke her pussy above her panties. She’s warm and wet already and, fuck, she’s incredible. I can feel the details of her lips through her soaked-through cotton underwear, and I find the stiff bud of her clit, teasing it over the fabric.
“I always thought I’d end up married to the first girl my father shoved in front of me. Never fucking mattered either way. This is better.”