I walk down the hall. My head’s spinning. I never thought I’d ever get married. I don’t want this kind of responsibility. I’ve failed so badly in the past, and I don’t ever want to fail like that again. People that get too close to me end up dead.
People I love always go back to the dirt before their time.
And it’s always my fault.
But I don’t know a better way to keep Fiorella safe. I could keep watching her, but that would only get me so far.
I need her here, right here, in my house, by my side, right where I can make sure nothing can touch her.
“It’s happening tomorrow,” I say and fling open the bathroom door.
I stand there, breathing hard, heart pounding in my chest, and stare in as Fiorella yelps and covers her bare breasts with her arms.
She’s sitting in the tub. The water’s occluded by suds that cling to her body. Her pretty eyes are wide, and her mouth is open in pissed-off outrage. I can’t help but stare at her. Arousal burns in my core. I want her taste and need her touch more than I’ve ever wanted something in my life. She looks like perfection, slightly damp, skin flushed from the warm water, breasts spilling out from behind her muscular arms.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she snaps at me, eyes narrowing dangerously. “Don’t you fuckingknock? And where’s your shirt? If you’re trying something right now?—”
I don’t move. I’m suddenly aware that my chest is bare and I’m still speckled with blood. Her gaze dips down to my tattooed skin, and I swear, her lips part ever so slightly.
“I’m not trying anything.” It takes a lot of effort not to storm into that bathroom and do exactly that. “I just spoke with your brother on the phone.”
“Cool! Tell me this when I’m out of the bath!”
I don’t move. “We decided that you and I are getting married tomorrow morning.”
Her jaw drops. I like that look on her—stunned and pretty. I can’t help but smirk at the minor victory.
“Tomorrow?” She shakes her head and leans forward. I can tell she wants to gesture, but she’s trapped covering her breasts with her arms. “No, no, absolutely not. That’s not the deal. I thought I had more time.”
“Someone tried to choke you to death an hour ago. We’re getting married, and I’m going to make sure that never happens again.”
Her lips press flat. The surprise fades and is replaced with anger. “I didn’t agree to this.”
“You agreed to be my wife. The timeline can change.”
“Would you just get out of here and let me put on some clothes? We’ll discuss it when I’m not naked.”
“There’s nothing left to discuss.”
“Typical mafia asshole bullshit right there! My opinion doesn’t matter to you, right?”
“Your safety matters to me. Your opinion won’texistif someone kills you.”
That seems to get through to her slightly. She looks away, frustrated. “I don’t understand what’s going on. Why would someone want to kill me?”
“To stop our families from coming together.”
Her head tilts to the side. “I guess marrying tomorrow would really piss them off, right?”
“Exactly. Whoever is behind these attacks wants to stop our marriage.” I take a step into the bathroom. Fuck, that was a bad idea. Now that I crossed the threshold, it’s like I’m spiraling directly toward her. “There’s an easy solution to our problem.”
“I wouldn’t call iteasy.”
“It’s just a few words and some paperwork.”
“And then what? I’m your wife? What’s that even mean? What’s it look like?” She shakes her head and glares at me. “This is too fast.”
“You had weeks to prepare.”
