Conquered by the Mafia Boss

“I don’t know what the hell you are.”

* * *Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

“So you decided to get married-just like that?”

Detective Asshat is not buying our bullshit. He leans over the table with his suspenders and his wire-rimmed glasses, looking too fucking serious for his own job.

Beatrice sits in my lap, positively glowing as I wrap my arms around her waist and give her a kiss on the side of her head.

“Yeah. True love knows no bounds, and all that shit.”

Her nails dig into my neck.

“Excuse me?”

The other one, Detective Fatass, slams his meaty fist on the table, making Beatrice gasp.

“Stop fucking around, you piece of shit. We know you were at the Trudeau airport, along with Johnny Cravotta and his crew.”

“I’d appreciate it if you stopped scaring my wife.”

Beatrice turns her head to look straight at Detective Fatass. “He was with me that night.”

“What were you doing for five hours?”

“Fucking.”

Beatrice sends me an appropriately scandalized look, which I wave off.

“For five hours?”

“You sound surprised. Is your stamina not up to snuff?”

Fattass’s face deepens to an ugly puce color. “You’re telling me that you were having sexual intercourse with this woman for five hours straight?”

“I took a few fifteen minute breaks because her pussy was getting sore.”

The look of pure rage might not be entirely feigned on her part.

I smile right in the face of those jerk-offs.

“We’ve given our statements. Can we go now?”

Her nails dig hard into my skin and I smooth my hand over her belly, giving her a small pinch.

Yeah, see how you like it.

“Yes.”

The two detectives look like they’ve been denied a great treat, and Beatrice slides off my lap. She walks away from me and gives me a look filled with poison behind the two cops’ backs.

“I’d say it’s been a pleasure, but it hasn’t.”

I sweep past the two cops and palm open the door. Well, that was easy, wasn’t it? A bubble of unease swells inside my stomach. Sure, I got off lucky, but that doesn’t mean I’m off their radar. One screwup and they’ll find a reason to make an arrest. It only takes one filthy rat to bury me, and the MC is full of them.

I wrap my arm around Beatrice’s small waist, hating how my blood pounds when she stops in the middle of the hallway and turns in my arms with a scorching gaze. She grabs the scruff of my neck and brings me closer, wearing a cute smile. Her lips crush mine as she pushes my back into the wall. Heat floods my veins as her tongue flicks inside my mouth, teasing me.

What the fuck is she doing?

We’re in the middle of the police station, and she’s shoving her tongue down my throat. Not that I mind, but it’s a little weird even for me.

But I stop worrying about that when I feel her curves pressing into my body. God, I want her. I kiss her back, my arms wrapped around her because I want to touch every inch of what belongs to me. Beatrice pulls away, smiling, her eyes heavily lidded.

“I love you, baby.”

She makes a trail with her fingers up my chest as I recover from what feels like a heavy book thrown in my face. Has she lost her mind?

“Uh-what?”

A triumphant snort from a man brushing past us in the hall averts my attention. Detective Fatass sneers at me with a side glance, and I turn back to Beatrice, her smile strained.

“I love you, too. Let’s go.”

Nothing ever sounded so forced. Beatrice cringes at my tone, her eyebrows narrowing before she gives a bizarre laugh and kisses my cheek.

I grab her upper arm and lead her down the hall, and it’s only once until we’re outside and well out of sight that she rounds on me, shoving my chest.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

I don’t like the way she looks at me. I take a step back and brush my jacket, pretending to be cool when I feel hot.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“You’re treating this like a fucking joke. ‘Love knows no bounds, and all that shit’? Are you crazy?”

“Give me a break. They already know we’re full of it.”

She rolls her eyes. “After that performance, yeah.”

“What, am I supposed to fawn over you like some lovesick moron?”

Her stony gaze meets mine, and I feel a ripple of anger from the contempt burning in her eyes.

“Do you want to go to jail?”

I don’t have time for this. “Get in the fucking car.”

The car door swings open in my hand and I watch her duck her head as she slides into the passenger seat. I slam the door shut and the car trembles with the force. My hands clench over the edge of the hood and the window as rage boils my insides.