Page 21

Raffa looked in my direction. The dark glasses worked wonders to mask the intent behind his words, but I’d known him long enough to read between the lines. Or at least know what he wanted to hear.

“You have your work cut out for you, nephew?” he asked.

“Looks like it,” I said under my breath.

“What work? If you think—” Bianca sputtered.

“We’ll talk,” I cut her off. She was digging her hole—ourhole—deeper and deeper.

Raffa arched a brow my way. “Maybe three weeks is not enough.”

Bianca unwrapped her arms and stepped toward Raffa. “Three weeks for what?”

“Three weeks for you to learn your fucking place as my wife.” I grabbed her arm and dragged her back to the house. “Let’s go.”

“Happy wedding night,” Raffa called out.

Thestronzowas finding amusement with his machinations. He was more than an adviser; he was the puppet master who manipulated the Rossi bosses. Raffa had his own minions who carried influence with the soldiers.

I caged Bianca with my arms to prevent any attempt of hers to break away. I put myself between her and Griselda as we passed my former fiancée. I wouldn’t put it past Griselda to start trouble again.

Gian was furious at my deception with Griselda because it cost him an alliance with the Philly mob.

She was still insisting she was pregnant but wouldn’t confess who the father was because it certainly wasn’t me, and I made that clear to Gian and Raffa when I insisted on marrying Bianca.

What a perfect storm of a clusterfuck I found myself in as the new boss of the family.

“Where are we going?” Bianca demanded. “And what is that three weeks about?”

“I’ll explain once we’re clear from here.”

I hurried her through the house before someone else insulted her. I was a hair trigger away from massacring the entire Rossi family. My friendship with her wasn’t a secret. And it was obvious I became boss and married her for her protection. My plan of getting us out of this mess was a work in progress and I didn’t want Bianca running her mouth and complicating things.

Tommy caught up with us. “Which phone are you using?”

“Three.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know as soon as Renz is delivered.”

Bianca drew in a ragged breath but didn’t say anything. We moved through the kitchen and exited the back door.

A Rossi soldier tossed me the keys to a blacked-out Expedition. “Boss.”

“Thanks,” I muttered. I rounded the vehicle with Bianca. She was still in her wedding gown. “Do you want to sit in the back? Would it make you more comfortable?”

She glared at me.

“Or maybe it’s not a good idea,” I said. “You might strangle me with your garter.”

“Don’t give me ideas.”

“Wow, wife, that’s kinda vicious.”

“You suggested it.”

I opened the door. “Up you go, Sunlight.”

“Don’t call me that,” she retorted. “You don’t get to call me that ever again.”