My fucking conscience is riding me hard as I drive us home.
Honestly, I’m a little shocked that I just went through with the wedding.
I forced an innocent woman who has nothing to do with the mafia to marry me.
Haven is right. I’m a fucking bastard.
Not wanting to face what I’ve done, I shove the thoughts aside. I glance at Haven, and seeing how pale she is, my heart squeezes.
Her hands are clamped together on her lap, and she’s trembling like a leaf in a shitstorm.
The dress Massimo got for her is fucking beautiful. The moment I saw her in it, something in my chest shifted. Up until that moment, I was still in two minds about going through with the wedding, but then Haven came stalking toward me with her chin held high and tear streaks on her cheeks.
A fucking masterpiece.
“At least it’s over and done with,” I mutter.
Even though her voice is soft, it’s brimming with hatred as she says, “Go to hell.”
“Careful,” I murmur, my fingers clenching around the steering wheel.
“Why can’t my mom come to live with me?”
I let out a heavy sigh. “Because the two of you together will be trouble, and I have a lot of work to take care of.” I glance at her again. “Right now, your mother is the only leverage I have, so you don’t try to kill me.”
“Keep pushing me and see what happens,” she mumbles.
I let out a chuckle, the corner of my mouth curving up.
I like this fiesty version of Haven. It’s a turn on.
“What do you think? Should we consummate our marriage?” I tease her.
She bends over and yanks a shoe from her foot before gripping it tightly. “Try and I’ll stab you with my five-inch heels.”
“See, now I’m in a position to tell you not to do anything stupid for your mother’s sake.”
A sob bursts from Haven, and it has my eyes flicking to her as I steer the car through the gates of my property. She’s shaking badly, and I instantly regret teasing her.
“Calm down. I’m not going to force myself on you.”
Her terrified gaze snaps to me, and she searches for the truth in my words.
“I’ll make you a deal. No sex until you beg me,” I say as I pull the Porsche into the garage.
Her voice quivers as she replies, “I’ll never beg you for that.”
Switching off the engine, I grin at her. “We’ll see.”
Haven shoves the door open and climbs out.
I follow her into the kitchen, where she suddenly stops and yanks the ring off her finger. She slaps it down on the counter, then removes her other shoe and runs into the foyer.
“I want my clothes and sneakers that are still at the church,” she shouts.
I stare at the antique family ring before I move closer to pick it up. It doesn’t look like something that belongs on Haven’s finger.
No. Only the biggest diamond will be able to complement her beauty. Not this ring that’s only brought my mother heartache.
