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“Why?” one of the men asked.
“Because once they know he’s dead, my little pen pal will officially be a widow. She’ll get everything he ever owned as his wife, and she’ll be free from him sooner than the divorce,” I explained.
“She must be a good lay,” one of the men muttered under his breath.
I gripped my knife and lunged, sticking it in the man’s neck. He gasped, choking on his own blood as it poured on the ground, exsanguinating him in minutes. He fell limp to the ground.
“Does anyone else have anything to fuckingsay to me?” I shouted.
They shook their heads.
“Get this fucker ready, and clean up the mess. I want my fiancée declared a widow as soon as possible. Get our guys to sign off on a death certificate. I want it done in less than a week.”
The room was a blur as everyone moved, and I showered and changed out of my clothes. When one of the men sheepishly handed me the severed head in a bag, I went back to my car.
“Won’t the police recognize you, boss?” my driver questioned.
“Not if they don’t see who I am,” I smirked. I was dressed in regular street clothes, and I had the cover of the night. I could always run if things went south.
When we were in front of the police station, I opened the door and threw the bag, and it landed in front of the police station’s doors. Then, my driver drove off, and I laughed as he headed back to Amara’s house.
I called the safehouse. “Get our guys on it now,” I announced. “The package has been delivered.”
Amara
A few days and many more tears later, Enzo showed up with a piece of paper in his hands.
It was a marriage license with both our names on it.
My head shot up as I looked at him. “But the divorce isn’t final yet—”
“It’s been taken care of,” he assured me. “You’re no longer a married woman, Amara. You’re free. Free to marry me whenever you want.”
My heart melted. I’d never seen this tender side of Enzo, but I was glad he could be gentle when I needed it the most.
But seeing our names on that piece of paper further solidified my position.
I was ready to be his wife.
“How soon can we go?” I asked.
“We can go right now,” he grinned. “I know the judge, and he owes me a few favors. He said to come by anytime, and he’ll marry us.”
“Let me get dressed,” I breathed, getting up from my bed. “We’ll need two witnesses—”
“I’ll call my sister and brother-in-law,” he informed. “It’s well past time you met them anyway.”
So I rushed to my closet, picked a cute white sundress, and slipped it over my head. I quickly combed and styled my hair and put on my usual makeup.
Mark and I had a big, fancy wedding, and I knew that I didn’t want that. I wanted something intimate, just Enzo, me, and a few witnesses to make it official. I was estranged from my family, so I didn’t bother inviting them. This moment was about us, not placating people I hadn’t seen in years.
I took his hand, and we went to his car, where his driver brought us to a courthouse a few towns away in Hollowbrook. We exited the car, jogging up the steps, each eager to be married to the other.
“After this, we can get conjugal visits,” I mused.
Enzo laughed as he opened the doors, leading me inside.
We barged into the courtroom, and the judge frowned in our direction. “Really, Enzo? All of thirty minutes of notice?” he tsked.