Married to the mafia boss Series

#8 Chapter 20



CARMELA

I stepped off the stage.

Bartenders applauded between serving drinks. Men whistled and clapped. Although I’d stumbled through a few of the lyrics from sheer nerves, I’d finished my first set.

Unreal.

Boundless energy zipped through my body as I made a beeline for the ebony bar. I was just the opener for the main act, but that suited me. I needed the practice. Singing in a dive was nothing, but performing at a high-class establishment sawed through my spine.

My hands shook as I reached inside my purse.

“You need a drink.” A masked stranger thrust a tumbler filled with amber liquid near my elbow. He was old enough to be my grandfather. “What’s your name?”

“Carmela, and she’s married.” Julian’s grave tone cut the air as he pushed into my side, channeling a jealous husband vibe.

“My mistake,” the man said, turning away.

My husband’s ex-brother-in-law raked his thick blond waves.

“You could’ve let me handle him.”

“Yeah, but Michael gave me specific instructions. Some guys can get super creepy.” A wide grin staggered across Julian’s handsome face. “I had my doubts, but you were amazing.”

A ripple of warmth ran through me. “Really?”

“You’ve got pipes, girl.”

“I might change the key for ‘Someone to Watch Over Me.’ I think it was too low.”

“No, you’re perfect. Your voice is clear as a bell.” He leaned against the counter, ignoring a naked blonde making eyes at him. “You’re too classy for this place.”

“Eventually, I’ll upgrade to more intimate lounges, but this is a decent start.”

I didn’t mind that it was a sex club. Nobody would bump into me here, so it didn’t matter if I screwed up, and Julian was amenable to my requests. We hadn’t spent much time together aside from the occasional one-hour playdate, but he was easygoing.

I didn’t know why Michael had such an issue with him.

“How’s Michael treating you?”

“Good. The kids are great, too.” I fingered my dress, unable to fight the rising flush from claiming my cheeks. “How’s your daughter?”

“She’s with her mom for the week.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose and yawned. “Damn. Graveyard shift is tough. I have no idea how Michael did it for so long. He used to work nights while my sister took care of the kids. He’d sleep through the mornings, wake up around noon, and spend the day running after Mariette before having to do it all over again.”

I sipped the drink as grief seemed to pour from Julian.

He blinked, his voice tight. “Does he ever mention Serena?”

“Never.”

His lip curled. “Of course.”

Truthfully, I was dying for the whole story. I’d heard wild tales from Mia. “What was she like?”

“Beautiful. Like you, in that department. She had this ridiculous laugh. She could be warm and gracious, but she was also selfish. Entitled. Greedy.”

“Michael hates talking about her.”

“I’m sure he’d like to forget she existed, but those children are still half my sister.”

I palmed his shoulder. “So you know, I’m not trying to replace her. I encourage the kids to talk about her. Mariette has a memory box. I want them to remember Serena.”

He smiled, his eyes gleaming. “I hope he doesn’t treat you the way he treated her.”

“What does that mean?”

“They had a volatile relationship. Lots of fighting. I love my brother-in-law, but he can be harsh. My sister called me all the time, crying. If you need help, ask. I’m a phone call away.”

“Thanks.” My skin prickled at his somber tone. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What’s that?” A jacketed arm slid across my waist, tugging me into a man’s body. A bundle of tulips wrapped in cellophane slipped into my hands. Then a smoky voice tickled my ear. “Bravissimo.”

Heat blistered my lips as Michael’s kiss burned me from the inside out, and then he faced Julian, radiating aggression.

“Is there a reason you’re standing here?”

Julian sighed and murmured a goodbye. Michael watched him disappear in the sea of black jackets. His wolf-like stare followed Julian until I grabbed his tie.

“Why do you have to be so rude?”

He pinched my cheek. “He needs to be knocked down a peg.”

“No, he doesn’t. He’s a nice guy.”

“That’s what you said about me in the beginning.” Michael bumped his forehead on mine, grinning. “You still like nice guys?”

“I care about how you treat people. I don’t want to be known as the wife of the jerk.”

“You already are.”This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

I growled. “Why do you hate Julian?”

“I don’t respect him. He’s a sarcastic, ungrateful fuck.”

“Would it kill you to tone it down?”

“Probably not, but I won’t.”

He cupped my cheeks.

Heat rippled up my neck. “Why’s that?”

“You like me how I am.”

“Oh, I like you?”

He smiled. “Yeah.”

He’d come a long way from my first night. He’d defended me from Nick. He’d gotten me gigs in a club. He would eventually give me a baby. He gave me hugs, texted silly emojis, cooked me breakfast, and showered me with small acts of kindness. Something warmer than affection coated my heart when he held me.

I lifted the flowers to my nose, inhaling their scent. “How did you know they’re my favorite?”

“Easy. You picked them for our wedding.”

“You remember that?”

“Hard to forget anything since you came into my life.”

I tipped my head and kissed him. He met my pressure with a flurry of hot strokes. His sigh caressed my mouth. Then he pulled away, eyes closed as though he savored my taste. His expression broke into a lazy smile.

He hooked my elbow and dragged me from the guests mingling with half-naked women. He stepped into an empty, darkened hall where open doors beckoned into rooms.

“You’re nice today.”

“You and that damned word.”

He grabbed my waist and pushed me into a room. A thrill rushed down my spine as he backed me against the wall. He slapped my arm against the concrete and fastened a leather cuff around my wrist.

“I’m crazy about you, Carmela. That’s why I’m nice.”

Sweet Jesus.

A second jolt shot through my ribs.

Did he mean that? Was this part of the sex? I assumed the playful banter started and ended in the bedroom-but he brought it to Sanctum. He looked at me like I’d hung the moon in the sky.

My mouth went dry as I put it together.

His passion reminded me of another man.

Nick.


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