Page 80 of I Would Beg For You
He leaves the words hanging, and I frown. “Go on.”
“Your father was able to commit you because he’s your next of kin.”
As long as that’s the case, he’ll always have an advantage over me. “Can I change this?”
His tight jaw tenses even more, if that were possible.
“If you had a husband, he’d be your next of kin. It wouldn’t be your father anymore.”
Surprise floors me, and I pull away from him to sit up in the bed, on my knees, facing him.
“What…what are you saying?” I ask.
Valentino turns his intense eyes on me.
“You and me. We have to get married.”
Chapter 25 Valentino
Naomi didn’t give mean answer when I told her we needed to get married. Frankly, it was the only way any of us had to protect her. As her uncle, Reeves is too far removed to be her next of kin. Unless we barricaded her for the rest of her life, with people guarding her at all times, which isn’t exactly a proper way to live, we couldn’t protect her legally. Her father could still turn the courts in his favor, and she’d have to comply. No, only her having a husband would do while Joel Smith was alive.
I didn’t expect her to jump on my suggestion and be effusive in her joy, so I didn’t take her silence any other way than her being stunned. To be honest, I’d stunned myself when I agreed to this scheme, ever since Reeves suggested it in the Tribeca apartment, Anya Brennan and Carson Felix both nodding along. I’d never seen myself as a married man, though I always knew I’d have to get married if only in order to beget an heir.
But at this point in my life? While chasing skirt is no longer a priority, settling down wasn’t on the cards, either. And certainly not with Naomi Smith. While I’d entertained the idea what wehad between us could lead to more, the concept had never taken the shape of marriage.
I grew up watching my parents so in love with each other. Unlike other bosses, my father never took a mistress. He stuck by his vows, because he made them in good conscience and pledged himself. To have what they had? I’d beg for it. My father always told me a strong man never begs, but he had it all—an adoring wife, a big family, the respect of his soldiers. It all came from the certainty he loved my mother and she’d stand by his side come what may. And he, he stuck by her. That’s what I’ve always wanted for myself, the one thing I’d be willing to go down on my knees for in front of our good Lord and beg for without shame, without qualm. What he had is all I yearn for. A wife I’m a goner for, whose life I’d protect with my own.
The idea this woman can be Naomi? I have no other choice, though. Marrying her, it’s the right thing to do. Reeves did suggest he could find someone loyal to him who could bind himself to her…but the thought of another man claiming her as his? His hands on her? His cock inside her? Over my dead body.
So here we are with a non-starter, even. I’m going to marry Naomi Smith, and for her, I’ll forsake all others, for as long as we both shall live.
Provided she accepts my suit. She’s still in shock, reeling from what that bastard of Joel Smith did to her, and frankly, she’s feeling just the tip of the iceberg right now. With time will come more memories from her time at Pineridge. Everything will get clearer in her mind, starker, and that’s when the real pain will grab hold of her, when it will do its best to crush her and her resilient spirit in its viselike grip. Her uncle and I have already lined up a few therapists we can trust and who can help her wade through the trauma.
She remained silent back in the bedroom, and I didn’t press. Instead, I dropped a kiss onto her temple, cradled her to me, andheld her tight. Soon after, she was asleep, slumped into my side, warm and soft and there in my arms. It’s the safest place for her to be, though who am I kidding? No one close to me is ever safe. I can protect Naomi from her father, but who will protect her from me? I am, after all, embarking on a dangerous path—
“Stop overthinking.”
I blink out of my thoughts and stare at Marco, catching his eyes in the front rear-view mirror. Any other day, I’d never let anyone get behind the wheel of my beloved Maserati Levante, but I’m on a mission, and it won’t do to see the boss stepping out of the driver’s seat of his own vehicle. Hence me being in the back seat while my best friend and left hand takes on chauffeur duty.
“Naomi’s not stupid, Val.”
“No, she isn’t.”
Which means she can clearly say no to me, then where will that leave her? There’s no way she can go up against her father all on her own. And then, where will that leaveus—
“Val.”
I glance at Marco again. His eyes are narrowed as he throws me a glare in the mirror.
Yes, he’s right. Iamoverthinking this. I huff in a deep breath and settle straighter in the seat. We’re almost at our destination. Naomi is in one of my houses in Short Hills, where I took her after we got her out. Renata is there with her, and Roberto—her husband and Marco’s dad—is protecting them. No one except these three, as well as Carlito and Luciano who were on the exfil mission with me, know where she is, and I know I can trust them with my life, so I can entrust her to them, too.
“Focus,” he says softly.
Anyone else telling me this in such a low but obviously chiding tone would face the consequences of going against me. But Marco’s got my back, though. It’s the one thing I’ve known myentire life. I’d trust Francesca with him, which is saying a lot considering how protective I am of my baby sister.
The scenery around us starts to change, the SUV entering an area clearly filled with warehouses, some abandoned. I received a call earlier telling me to head here asap. A matter which has been a long time in the making is finally coming to a head, and I have to be on top of my game to deal with it. Prove my mettle, so to speak, even if, ultimately, I am going there to end a man’s life.
Marco stops the Levante near a structure which appears derelict at first glance. Wind is rushing inside from both ends, the whistling in the metal beams reaching my ears as soon as he opens the backseat door for me and I step out. It’s deathly quiet otherwise, a creepy air over the whole desolate landscape. I can easily imagine tumbleweeds rolling in the dust, reminiscent of those post-apocalyptic worlds in the video games Franco is so fond of.
