“What’s the plan today?” she asks. “Besides finding out if I need to buy a pink or blue onesie.”
“We need to get you a new phone and clothes.”
I should’ve taken her off Aleksy’s phone plan the night of our marriage. He could easily track her location. Big mistake on my part.
I wait for her to argue, but she surprisingly doesn’t.
“You’ll also get a new number,” I add, knowingthis partmay be a problem for her.
She bites into her cheek. “Is that so I can’t call Dasha?”
“No, so Aleksy can’t track you.” I step into her space, and she parts her legs, giving me room to stand between them.
“Fair point,” she says around a long breath before lowering her voice. “Are you still not going to tell me how you knew he’d asked me to kill you?”
“Nope. Just know, in this world, talking too much gets you killed.”
“Ah, so that’s why you’re always so quiet.” She presses a light kiss to my chest. “Aleksy is going to think I’m the one who told you. They called my father a rat. He could easily say I’m just the same.”
I slide a strand of wet hair off her cheek. “No one would dare hurt you.” I run my hand along her cheek. “Do you think you could’ve killed me?”
“Doyouthink I could’ve killed you?”
“It’d have been fun, watching you try.” I smirk, sliding my hand beneath her robe to stroke her bare thigh.
“I could’ve done it when you were sick, you know.”
“Yet here I am, still standing.”
“That day, when Antonio came over, did he know what Aleksy had asked me to do?” She gnaws at her bottom lip.
I slowly nod, kneading her thigh with my knuckles.
“Does he want to kill me?” Her body trembles, as if Antonio is the big bad wolf, coming to destroy her.
“No,” I say around an amused lie. “He told me to keep an eye on you. We wanted to see where your loyalty was.”
I raise a hand from her robe, and she shivers as I brush my knuckle along her jawline.
She rests her hand on mine. “I chose you. I will always choose you.”
I kiss her forehead. “Good girl.” I pat her thigh, then retreat a step. “Now, get dressed. Either grab something of mine or what you wore yesterday. We’ll run all our errands and then visit Aurora and the baby.”
“That sounds wildly domestic.” She playfully elbows my stomach. “Look at us, being so husband and wife. Showering, shopping, not wanting to kill each other.”
I help her to her feet and smack her ass.
As she walks away, I notice something.
My entire body isn’t as tense as usual.
My jaw isn’t tight. My neck isn’t strained.
I feel light, and for the first time in a long fucking time, I smile.
37
This arrangedMafia marriage has veered more into the domestic category.
