Marrying the Mob Prince

Evie

I’m grateful my husband respects my boundaries.

Why should I let him win?

I went to the clubhouse twice after snapping my credit card in half. Once, for my cousin. Jennesy turned twenty-four, so I zipped there on Wednesday for her birthday party. Then I went again two days later, just to prove that I wouldn’t be controlled. I stayed until Christian told me we had to go or Tony would kill us both, which was what brought me to Sanctum.

My cutoffs did not go over well with the hostess, who glared at them a full five seconds before the guard mentioned my name, after which she became ridiculously accommodating.

Christian made a sound of disgust. “Cazzo.”

“What does that one mean?” I harassed him when he spoke Italian, determined to pick up the language.

“Cazzo?” Christian’s hand flew in his hair. “Dick, shit, damn, fuck. It can be a lot of things, depending on the situation.”

“Cats-oh,” I tried it out. “I should practice before I see Tony.”

Christian’s face went up in flames as a woman in pasties waved at him. “The girls here are so young.”

Since we’d gotten to Sanctum, he’d done nothing but cringe.

“You don’t like this place, huh?”

“No. I’m a traditional guy.”

“You wouldn’t last a week in a clubhouse.” I laughed, imagining the gangly mafioso at a patchover party. “Actually, I know a girl who likes tall, modest guys like you.”

He smiled. “Yeah?”

“You’d be right up her alley.”

I grabbed my phone, scrolling to a picture of Jennesy and me at a dive bar. I thrust it under his nose. He bent to look at it, clasping his hands around mine gently.

“She’s hot.”

“Want her number?”

He sucked in his lip as though tempted, and then shook his head. “Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“My wife passed away six months ago. Cancer. Too soon.”

My heart ached as I took his arm. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“It’s not something I talk about, but I guess you bring it out in me.” His disinterested gaze passed over the women in the club, and he sighed heavily. “I have to get out there someday.”

“Jennesy will probably still be single,” I said, opening my phone in an attempt to cheer him up. “I already texted her your photo.”

“Did you really?”

“Yeah, check it out.”

He leaned in, squinting at the screen. “Ah, I see her reply. What do the eggplants and the drops mean?”

“What do you think?”

Christian burst out laughing, the full-hearted sound dipping me in a warm bath. His mirth died as a possessive arm snaked my waist, pinning me to a rock-hard body. It swelled with a huge breath.

“Are you done talking my wife’s ear off?”

A smile still hung on Christian’s face as he melted away.

I glanced at my pissed off husband, who glared in Christian’s direction. His ferocious eyes flitted between me and my bodyguard.

“He likes you too much.”

“If you’re holding out on winning a popularity contest against me, you might as well cash in your chips.”

“The cute act works on simple-minded fools like Christian, but not on me.” Tony moved in front of me, a panther that demanded my full attention. His stare trapped me in a battle of wills that we fought without moving. “You’ve been busy this week.”

I would not be intimidated.

“Yeah, it was fun. Best two days I’ve had in a long time.”

Tony stiffened, his features thickening with rage.

I palmed his cheek and smoothed his angry brow with my thumb. “I already ripped up your credit card, hubby. What else can you do to me?”

He grabbed my waist and jerked me toward him. I gasped as he bound my wrists in one hand and pinned them behind my back. Pain sliced up my arm.

“Plenty,” he purred, his breath scorching my lips. “Rip off your clothes. Fuck your mouth until you pass out. Make your ass permanently red.”

I tried to kill the whimper as he brushed his lips over mine, licking them open. He pushed his tongue inside, swallowing my protests. I squirmed, fighting him, until he shoved me against a wall, his thick erection grinding into my thigh.

Oh my God.

His demanding mouth nipped at my neck. I could’ve shouted, but nothing escaped but his name.

“Tony.”

I could’ve fought harder. Kicked his legs, struck the hardness pressing into my hip, bitten his maddeningly sinful pout. Mixed feelings surged through me as our lips crashed. He was too big, too strong. My resistance weakened. His dominating presence had crushed it as I yielded to his powerful body. As his tongue flicked mine, an unexpected surge teased my pussy.

Why does he do this to me?

A small smile teased across his handsome face.

He had me.

He knew I ached for him. I writhed as he fucked my mouth with his tongue, closing his lips to suck and doing it again. The same movement he made with his head between my thighs. My shoulders relaxed, and I went limp. His taste drugged me. His manly scent filled my lungs. He ravaged my mouth, heat circling my nipples with every delectable stroke. My pussy smoldered, and it was all I could do not to spread my legs and beg him to fuck me.

“You can’t hide what I do to you,” he taunted, ripping away from me. “Evie Costa.”

I trembled as he nudged me toward a table, my balance off-kilter as he strode forward purposefully.

“What are we doing here?”

“My cousin wanted to see us. We’ll have a quick chat, and then I will sort you out. I want you to think about your behavior while I’m entertaining Vinn Costa.”

My lips tingled.

What would he do if I threw the apology in his face?

Tony dragged me to a booth. The boss of the Family sat there with his very shell-shocked wife, who gaped at the surroundings. Tony’s heavy arm draped my shoulders, the solid weight of it comforting. Knowing how much he hated intimacy, I nuzzled his neck and hooked my hand over his thigh.

Tony cleared his throat and waved over a waitress. “A glass of the Dog Point Cab, and a gin and tonic for her.”

The waiter disappeared to do his bidding. Moments later, a glass slid into my fingers. My nose wrinkled as I inhaled the sharp scent of my G&T, but I tried it anyway. Heat bloomed everywhere, though I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the anxiety from sitting next to him.

I looked at Tony, who swirled a glass filled with purple liquid. “Should I be worried about you?”

Darkness laced his tone. “I can control myself, Evie. Most of the time.”

Gooseflesh prickled across my arms as a vivid flashback to our wedding night burned in my head.

“Nice to see you two together,” said the Costa boss, his glare like a bolt of lightning. “You are getting along?”

“Absolutely.” Tony turned his head and planted a wet kiss on my cheek. “Can’t get enough of this woman.”

My gut clenched.

A tinge of sarcasm layered Tony’s words. Judging by Vinn’s growing voice, he hadn’t missed it.

“Our entire alliance hinges on you behaving yourself.”

Tony’s pitch-black presence dwarfed the table, consuming everybody. He grabbed his wine glass. He swiveled its contents, sniffed, and sipped a small amount. His eyes lit in rapture. “That’s good. Vinny, would you like some?”

“It’s Vinn, and no.”

Tony drank more. He closed his eyes as though wrestling with the urge to have more.

A chilled silence smothered the table. Vinn’s glacial stare followed Tony’s movements. He reacted to Tony like a dog who’d scented a rival male in a fighting ring. Tony’s oblivious drinking seemed to be a direct provocation. Gunpowder choked the air. They were on the verge of blowing it up and beating the shit out of each other.

I bit the inside of my cheek, wondering who would win. I sized up the larger Vinn, but what my husband lacked in pounds he made up for in cruelty. His eyes were alive with it.

“I’ll never forget the day Dad brought Vinny to my house,” blurted Tony. “He’d just murdered his father.”

Liana rapidly turned bright red.

“Vinny was fourteen,” he continued, his mouth tight and grim. “Crazy fuck stabbed his father seven times. Then he calls my dad for help. So my father goes over there. Cleans up the body while Mom makes Vinny a bed in the guest room.”

A subzero chill swept my belly.

What was he doing?

I seized his knee.

Tony sipped more wine, exchanging an unfathomable look with Vinn. His dark eyebrow rose in amused contempt.

“I begged Dad to let him stay longer. Always wanted a little brother, but Dad wouldn’t have it. He thought Vinny was a total psycho,” Tony mused, ignoring my hard pinches on his thigh. “But when I looked at Vinny, I saw a boy wearing my hand-me-downs. I still see that.”

Please shut up.

Shut up.

A harrowing silence gripped the air, which Vinn didn’t break with a denial. I took in his whitened lips and the vein throbbing in his forehead. Vinn shot upright, upsetting his glass. It spilled, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“You’re a waste of oxygen.”

“Careful, Vinny. You used to be the loser, in and out of rehab.” Tony’s bewitching smile flickered in Liana’s direction. “Didn’t you know that?”

“She knows everything about me, you piece of shit. What about her?”

A muscle jumped in Tony’s jaw. “I’m sure Evie has Googled me.”

“Not everything’s online. Like where you were a year ago, and what you did.” Vinn wrenched his jacket over his shoulders, tugging Liana from the booth. “Maybe you don’t want her to know that about you. I wouldn’t.”

Wow.

The effect that had on Tony was alarming.

“Shut up.” His dead-eyed gaze speared Vinn. “And get out. Or I’ll jam this butter knife in your eye socket.”

I grabbed Tony. “Tony, please stop.”

Tony swung toward me, his eyebrows raised. His attention danced over my face.

I gritted my teeth. “Stop.”

He brushed aside my trembling fingers and balled them in his hand. Then he kissed my knuckles, and the pit of my stomach churned. He was such a chameleon. He could be magnetic, cruel when it suited his fancy, generous, charming, wicked, psychotic.

Which was the real Tony?

Liana linked hands with Vinn, muttering something about the baby. It seemed to be the magic word. Vinn let her steer him away from the table, and they left without a backward glance.

Tony watched him go, seething. He drank.

“I think you’ve had your fill.”

I wrestled the glass from him and swigged, choking when an overly sweet, thin liquid welled in my mouth. It lacked the earthiness of wine and the sting of alcohol.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

“Grape juice?” I whispered, bewildered. “What the hell?”

“I told you. I don’t drink.”

“So you did that just to piss him off?”

“If I wanted to do that, I’d sign up his email for hardcore gay porn. No, I want to mess with his head. It drives him crazy when I break my sobriety because it reminds him of his weakness.” He swiveled his head, shrugging. “Nobody is without flaws, Evie. I find them. I exploit them.”

Well that’s dark.

“Do you enjoy being cruel?”

“Sure, when somebody annoys me enough.”

“So you’re a bully with a death wish.”

“Not quite, darling. I just needed him to leave.” He turned to fully face me, pinning me with a hot glare. “I can’t have him around while I fuck the insolence out of you.”

A shudder ran up my leg as he slid from the booth. He stood, tall and angry. His eyes flashed, reminding me that I wasn’t leaving without getting owned, used, and fucked within an inch of my life. The air charged with his volatile energy.

“What makes you think I’ll let you touch me?”

“One, you want me. Two, you’re contractually obligated to fuck me.” His finger slid under my jaw. “Three, I’m not giving you a choice.”