Page 41

Zara

Two months later…

I fought falling even more in love with Creed, but it was impossible. And the more I fell in love with him, the more I wanted our little family to grow.

In fact, that’s why I went to the doctor this morning before I enrolled in a photography class. I wasn’t sure about leaving Oriana for a few hours in the afternoon, but Creed encouraged me to take a little time out of the day to do something for myself. Since he hired both Paige and Bethany to help, even going so far as to pay for them to live in the building, I decided to do it.

The class is three days a week from one to three, which is when Oriana is usually having a playdate and a nap.

I haven’t found a job, but someday I’m hoping to earn a little money from freelance work.

And I’d be jealous Oriana insisted Creed tell her the last story of the night if I hadn’t already tucked her in and read her four of them while she fought to stay awake.

Before Creed finishes reading to Oriana and comes to bed for the night, I search through our shared closet for one of his suit jackets to put on as a surprise. I haven’t worn one since we got back from Italy two months ago.

As I shove hanging suits aside to find the perfect one, I discover two hidden boxes on a shelf underneath. One is long and white, and the other is a banker’s box. Curious, I remove the longer one first and peer through the box’s front window, finding a wedding dress.

My wedding dress.

Creed must have had it cleaned and boxed for preservation after we got back from the Hamptons. I didn’t even know he brought it back with us, but I’m so glad he did. Oriana may not want to wear it, but it’s still nice to have. The dress I married Creed in that smelled like garbage thanks to a long ride to the beach with a disgusting corpse.

Our life is definitely one of a kind, that’s for sure.

Putting the dress box back on the shelf, I remove the banker’s box that’s so heavy, I have to place it on the floor. Kneeling next to it, I lift the lid to find two side-by-side stacks of magazines. There are advertisements on the backs that don’t tell me anything, so I pick up the top one to flip it over.

“Holy shit on a stick,” I gasp. Without having to flip the pages, I know it’s the July issue from six years ago, which I posed for at Emilio’s encouragement. I made that mistake not once, but three times while he and his friends in the industry assured me it would lead to more modeling jobs.

They were wrong.

But I’m not disappointed. I’d rather be on the other side of the camera, anyway, capturing little moments in life. Real life, not staged .

“Zara?” Creed calls out.

Shit. I took too long and ruined the surprise.

“In here!” I call out from the closet floor.

“What in the world are you doing?” Creed asks when he appears in the open doorway. I have to bite back my smile when I see he’s wearing a super cute accessory, one I assume he forgot to remove after Oriana’s bedtime story. “Uh-oh. It looks like you found my porn stash,” he remarks with a grin.

“How do you have so many of these?” I hold up the one in my hand.

“Nobody gets to see my wife naked but me.” He scowls. “Lorenzo helped me buy all the copies we could find.”

“You found all these in the city?” I ask in disbelief as I toss the copy back into the box and put the lid on it, ready to bury that chapter of my life for good.

“In the world,” Creed replies. “I bought every copy that was for sale on auction sites and any that could be traced to a purchaser.”

“Wow.” I get to my feet. “That’s quite a feat. And I hate to break it to you, baby, but you’re not the only one who gets to see me naked.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, his voice several octaves lower.

“I went to the…um, lady doctor today.”

“You did? Why? Is everything okay?” He comes into the closet and gathers me in his arms.

“Yeah, it was just a yearly thing,” I lie. “I’m officially off my birth control shots. Way off them.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” I repeat, following his unenthusiastic response. “I thought you were serious about wanting to give Oriana a sister or brother. You mention it, like, every other time you’re finishing inside me.”

“I know. And I do want to make a baby with you. That’s all I fucking think about lately,” Creed says .

“But?” I ask, since I can hear it coming.

“But, if I get you pregnant now, not only will I miss the birth, I’ll miss the first several years of his or her life.”

I swallow around the sudden knot in my throat. “You mean because you’ll be serving your sentence for the gun charges soon?”

He nods. “The trial is less than four months away. Odds of a not guilty are so bad that my attorney thinks I should take a plea deal and get it over with, start doing my time.”

“Wow. I didn’t know that. About the plea deal, I mean. Wh-when are you going to enter the plea?”

“As soon as I give him the green light, Baxter’s going to schedule it with the DA. Dre, Tristan, and Lorenzo are going to try and stagger their pleas for as long as possible.”

“And you have to go in first?”

“The DA made it clear she isn’t giving me any breaks, so yeah, I’ll have to go first.”

“I’m sorry.” I reach and caress his face between my palms.

“No, micetta mia , I’m the one who is sorry. I hate leaving you.”

“We’ll get through it,” I promise him.

“We will,” Creed agrees. “And at least I’ll get to attend Dre and Stella’s wedding.”

“Oh. Has she finally accepted a ring from him and agreed to set a date?”

“Not yet, but she will.”

I smile despite the disappointing reminder of losing Creed to prison soon. “You know if she agrees to marry him it’s probably only because Saint wants her behind enemy lines, right?”

“And Dre is only marrying her to fuck her while pretending we’re all innocent. It’s a match made in heaven.” He grins. “Still, Dre thinks he can make her fall in love with him, despite the fact she won’t accept his ring.”

“That will be one hell of a trick. But every marriage has its problems, right? ”

“Dre is a cranky son of a bitch on a good day. Having to give up all women while his wife tries to kill him may make him homicidal.”

“It’s going to be fun to watch him work for it.”

“You’ll have to give me updates on how it’s going once I’m incarcerated.” He pulls the dark cloud above us closer.

“I will,” I promise him.

I decide to save my news for tomorrow.

Or next week.

Eventually, I’ll tell him, just not when it feels so sad.

Pulling his face to mine, I kiss Creed hard enough to leave no doubt about how the rest of his night is about to go.

He groans in anticipation and lifts me by my bottom, my legs wrapping around his waist. As soon as he drops me on the bed and begins to unbutton his shirt, I stop him. “Don’t move. Wait just one second.”

“Why?” he asks as I crawl over to my side of bed where I plugged in my phone to charge it. I’d rather have my camera, but the phone will have to do for urgency’s sake.

Quickly, I snap several photos of my mobster husband standing at the foot of the bed, tall, sexy, and intimidating in his partially opened black button-up, the front of his black slacks snug, barely containing his excitement.

“See something you like?” he asks with a smug grin as he reaches down to cup himself through the pants.

“God, yes.” I bite my bottom lip. “I think I like your pretty pink princess crown the best.”

His face falls a second before he lifts his arm and removes the crown he had obviously forgotten was still on his head.

“Fuck,” he mutters as he stares down at the fake gems and tosses it on the mattress. “Oriana made me wear it while I was reading her Cinderella. She said we couldn’t go to the ball until I put on the crown. ”

I laugh so hard I can barely get out the words, “She’s a bossy little thing, isn’t she?”

“Bossy like her momma.” Crawling on the bed toward me, Creed asks, “How much is it going to cost for you to permanently delete those images from the Cloud?”

“Oh, these images are priceless, baby. I’m never, ever deleting them.” I giggle. “The king of kings wearing a pink, jeweled crown…”

Creed makes a grab for my phone, and I squeal as I toss it on the floor. Once it’s out of his reach, I tug my top off, grip his wide shoulders, and pull him down on top of me to try to distract him.

“Only you know the truth, that the king of kings is at the sole mercy of his beautiful queen.” His mouth softly and slowly kiss the scars on my chest in sharp contrast to the urgency with which he jerks my pajamas and panties down my legs. “Now, spread your legs and let me worship you, micetta mia .”

The End