Page 10 of A Love Most Brutal (Morelli Family #2)

Maxim finally drags his eyes back to mine from where my skin touches his. After another moment where I believe he’ll fight me further, he nods.

“Fine,” Maxim turns over his hand so that my fingers rest against his palm, then squeezes them. I squeeze back twice.

In two weeks time, we’ll be married.

There’s a gun drop tonight and the load is big enough that I don’t trust any of the underbosses to manage it without fucking something up. Having a night to myself is not worth the risk of losing cargo because someone else is careless.

Usually Leo and I would handle it, and if not Leo, then Sean, but both of them are tied up with other work. We have family rules about not doing mafia shit alone, though, so I made Vanessa let me bring Nate.

I pick him up from his school and he throws his backpack into the trunk before he slides into the car, buckles up, and stows his teacher lanyard in my glove box.

“Lose the tie.”

“What’s wrong with the tie?” he says. There are little space ships on it. I’m sure his students love it.

I don’t dignify the question with an answer, only a dark glance and he tsks before tugging the tie loose and tucking it in the glove box with the lanyard.

“Did you bring a gun?” I ask before he can start telling me things about his job I do not care about.

“To school?”

“Don’t sound so incredulous, yes to school.” Nate has all sorts of weapons these days, now that he knows how to use them. He’s really improved, but I would not tell him this.

“No, Mar, I did not bring a gun to teach thirteen year olds.”

When he annoys me, I want to withhold things from him, like nickname rights for instance.

I refrain.

“Rafael is never far, and he’s got a gun. I’m fine,” he adds.

We had the young gangster get a job at Nate’s school to be a line of defense for Nate and the twins, but it was mostly to keep Rafael out of trouble. I think we all feel responsible for him after what happened to his brother Tony last year.

Rafael considers it a big honor though, and takes both his job cleaning the school and protecting the three Morellis there very seriously.

“Why do I need a gun anyway if it’s just a drop?”

“Sometimes drops go bad, stupid.” We’ve just pulled onto the highway when Vanessa calls, her voice coming through the car speakers.

“Did you do the drop?” my sister asks.

“Not yet. Just picked up Nate.”

“Hi, angel,” Nate chimes, louder than necessary. “Mary’s in a pissy mood again.”

“Literally not true,” I intone. This is my standard mood.

“Do you have your gun?” Vanessa asks Nate, and I raise my eyebrows at him. He sighs dramatically.

“I brought him one.” I point to the center console and he opens the hatch to find the pistol I stowed for him there.

“Are you sure you’re good? We can push it back until Leo is free if you need,” Vanessa says, ever worried about her husband’s tender sensibilities.

“Oh, please, he’s fine.” We watched the man shoot Cillian in the head last year—he’ll be okay.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Nate says.

Vanessa sighs. “Alright. Stay safe and stay sharp. I love you both.”

“Love you,” I say at the same time as Nate gives a “Love you, baby” before the line clicks off.

“Where’s Mr. Orlov?” Nate asks. He hates comfortable silence.

“I have no idea.” There are still ten days until our wedding, which means ten more days of my own Morelli freedom before I become Mrs. Orlov. After the drive by, he insisted I bring one of his guards or Leo with me everywhere I go, but that would be rather excessive.

“I’m surprised he let you out of his sight. Guy watches you like you’re a flight risk.”

“I thought you liked him,” I say. Nate was obsessed with Maxim last time I checked. He should’ve married him, then, if he likes him so much.

“Oh, I do. Someone needs to watch you like a hawk. God knows you don’t watch your own back.”

I only squint in response.

“So how are you liking him then?” Nate asks.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s your fiancé, you’re marrying him in a week and a half. How do you like him?”

“I don’t feel for him at all,” I say, though that’s not entirely true.

I feel mild annoyance when he stares at me like he’s trying to decode a riddle written across my eyes.

I feel contempt when he indicates that I’m not capable of doing my job without one of his goons at my side, as if I haven’t been working for years.

I feel begrudging attraction to him and a general pull into his orbit.

“You don’t like him?”

“I don’t dislike him. He’s okay.”

“You don’t think he’s hot?”

I look over at Nate like he’s stupid, which sometimes I think he might be. “Of course I think he’s hot, you’ve seen him.”

“Right,” Nate says. “But you don’t like him?”

I shrug. “What do I need to like him for?”

“Mary.” Nate pinches his nose like he’s already tired.

“Look, I like him fine. He’s hot and already way more attentive than I bargained for and I will have his tall babies that will probably destroy me in childbirth from being so broad shouldered. Happy?”

Nate sighs, but doesn’t keep on asking dumb questions.

I thought it was obvious that this marriage was not one born out of mutual affection.

Maxim doesn’t want me , he wants what I can offer him.

The same can be said vice versa. Nothing wrong with a business deal wedding, and honestly two out of three of the Morelli daughter marriages being out of love instead of obligation is a shock.

One of us was bound to have to marry strategically.

“Why are you always so nosy, anyway?” I ask.

“Alright, okay.” Nate holds his hands up like I’m threatening him. “I bet he’ll worm his way into your cold, cold heart yet.”

“Sure,” I say, though I know this isn’t an option.

I won’t let it be.