Page 24 of His Playground (Owning Vegas #2)

Chapter Twenty-Three

A ntonia is furious at me. I have to control my smile, which isn’t easy. I fucking love it when she’s mad. So does my cock. “What’s wrong?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Nothing.” She continues to stare out the window, refusing to look at me.

I pull out of the parking lot, leaving her alone with her thoughts for a moment. I count down in my head and, as expected, she turns to face me on her own.

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for me? What is Professor George going to think of me now? How can I go back to class and act like my husband didn’t just treat me like a child— no, worse! Like a piece of property?”

“First, who the fuck cares what Professor Dipshit thinks about you? Second, you’re my wife. You should be using my name,” I tell her.

“Plenty of women in the twenty-first century do not take their husbands’ names,” Antonia huffs.

“Good for them. They’re not married to me. You are,” I say. “And you are taking my name.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why ? I want my wife to share my name. That’s why.”

“I’m not a cow you can just brand,” she tells me. “And where the hell are you taking me now?”

“I told you. I have something I want to show you.”

“What happened to the guy who shot at you and Jazzy? Who was it? And why did he do it?” she asks, changing the subject all of a sudden.

I turn to look at her when I stop at a red light. “You don’t need to worry about that. It’s been dealt with.”

“I might not need to, but I am. Why is someone trying to kill you, Carlo?” she asks. “And who was he?”

“He was some low-level thug. Emmanuel found him and delivered me his head.” I shrug. “It’s dealt with.”

“You keep saying that. But that’s not what I’m asking you. Why was he shooting at you to begin with?” she presses.

Fucking hell, Antonia has never questioned me about the business before. Why now? How is she going to react if I tell her it’s her father who’s trying to have me killed?

Pulling onto the street, I point up ahead.

“We’re almost here,” I say instead of answering her question.

I don’t know why, but something is urging me not to tell her just yet.

I need to figure out how I’m going to deal with Marciano.

If I have to kill him, I’d prefer my wife didn’t know I killed her father.

I punch in the code and wait for the gate to open before navigating us up the long driveway.

“Whose house is this?” Antonia asks, peering up at the three-story monstrosity.

“Ours.” I cut the engine, jump out of the car, and walk around to her door, opening it for her.

Antonia takes my hand as she steps out. “What do you mean ours ?”

“I bought it. For us. You, me, and Jazzy.” I look for any sign of… Honestly, I’m not really sure what reaction I’m looking for, but she smiles.

“You bought us a house?”

I’m also not sure why she sounds so surprised. She came with me the first time we went looking. It was a good way to figure out what options she liked. “You wanna see inside?”

“I do,” she says. “But first, I want you to answer my question, Carlo. I don’t want to just be the pretty wife who says: yes sir, no sir . The kind of woman who’s seen and not heard. If someone is trying to kill my husband, I want to know why. And I want to know who it is.”

Fuck, I was hoping she’d drop it.

“You are heard, Antonia,” I tell her.

“Then answer my question. Who is trying to kill you?” she pushes.

I release my grip on her hand, turn towards the house, and run my fingers through my hair.

Indecision cuts through me. I could tell her and show her that I do hear her.

That I want her to be more than the typical trophy wife.

Or I could lie and try to protect her from the truth.

But if she finds out, we’re going right back to square one, where she doesn’t trust me.

I spin around to face Antonia. “Your father.”

“What?” she asks.

“It’s your father. He sent that lowlife to take me out. The guy gave Emmanuel your father’s name,” I admit. Once again, waiting for her reaction. Waiting for her to deny that her father would do it.

“Okay, well, you need to kill him then, Carlo. Because if he wants you dead, he’s not going to stop until you are,” she says.

I blink. Did she really just tell me to kill her father? That easily? I knew they had a strained relationship. He’s always kept a tight leash on her, but for her to just tell me to off the guy like that, that’s more than a little strained.

“You want me to kill your father? He’s your only parent, Antonia.”

“What other option do we have? If it’s a choice between you and him, I’m choosing you,” she says. “And I know him. He won’t stop at one failed attempt.”

She’s right. He won’t. But I’m stuck on the her choosing me part. “Whatever happens, we will get through this together.” I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her up against me. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she replies. “But don’t ever come to class with me again.”

Instead of agreeing, I kiss her. “You want to see our new home?”

“Yes,” she says. “But wait… Why didn’t you bring Jazzy? Have you shown her already?”

“I wanted to show you first, because if you don’t like it, we can find another one,” I say.

“Okay, but I don’t need another house. This is… a lot of house,” she says, looking up at the estate again.

“Well, we can fill it with all those babies we’re going to have.” I lead her up the stairs to the front door.

“Yeah, sure.” Antonia laughs.

I open the door, bend at the waist, and throw her over a shoulder.

“Shit, what are you doing?” Antonia squeals.

“Carrying you over the threshold. It’s tradition. You know, like a wife taking her husband’s name.” My palm lands on her ass.

Once we’re inside the foyer, I lower Antonia to her feet, keeping hold of her until she has her balance.

She spins around, staring up at the decorative ceiling above us. “Oh my god, this is beautiful.”

“It really is.” I keep my eyes on my wife. I still can’t believe she’s mine most days.

We make our way through the rest of the interior, going from room to room. Antonia seems excited.

“You want to hire a designer? Or do it yourself?” I ask her.

“ Ourselves ? If I’m furnishing this place, you’re helping,” she says.

“Let’s hire someone,” I suggest. The thought of going shopping to furnish a house this big seems like pure hell.

“Okay, but can we do our bedroom together? And Jazzy’s with her? I think she’d like choosing her own things.”

The fact that she is thinking about my daughter means a lot. I wasn’t too sure how well Antonia would take to finding out I had a kid. But I’m not surprised. This woman has always had a good heart.

“Deal.” I smile.

Antonia smiles back. “You did real good picking this house, Carlo.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Bianchi. I think we should make it official.” I tug her up against my chest, my fist wrapping around her hair as I tilt her head upwards.

“Yeah? How do you suggest we do that?” she asks.

My lips descend on her throat. “By making you scream my name so loud the sound stays embedded in the walls forever.”

“That’s a big challenge. You sure you’re up for it?”

I take a step backwards. “You think I’m not?”

“I don’t know. You are older and all.” She smiles up at me.

“Strip. Right now, Antonia.” My voice is hard. I remove my jacket and start undoing the buttons on my shirt. She thinks I’m too old to make her scream. I’m going to prove her wrong.

Instead of following my orders, Antonia decides she’s the one in charge here as she drops to her knees in front of me. She undoes my belt, then my pants, before her hand reaches into my boxers and frees my cock. Her tongue darts out, licking across her lips.

“It’s only fair that I make you scream too,” she says right before her mouth closes over the tip.

“Fuck.” My hand tangles in her hair, pulling it away from her face. I want to watch the way her mouth stretches around me as she takes me all the way in.

Antonia slides back up to the tip. Her tongue circling before she slides back down my length. And I see fucking stars.

“Your mouth feels fucking sensational,” I tell her.

“Mhmm,” she mumbles around me, the vibrations running straight through my cock. When I reach the back of her throat, she fucking swallows.

Holy shit. That’s… not something she’s ever done before.

Well, not something she’s done when we were together.

And that has me thinking about where she learned to do it and who she practiced on.

My vision goes red. Whoever the fuck it was, I’m going to find them, and then I’m going to kill them.

I don’t want another living soul knowing what my wife’s mouth or pussy feels like.