Page 157 of Sadistic
"I've been working on something," she says eventually. "For law review."
"Yeah?"
"About organized crime legislation. The intersection of family loyalty and legal obligation." She glances up at me. "It's theoretical, obviously. No names or specifics."
"Obviously."
"But I might need to pick your brain about hypothetical scenarios."
"Hypothetically, I'm available for brain-picking."
"Good." She yawns. "But not tonight. Tonight I just want to not think about law or crime or any of it."
"What do you want to think about?"
"Absolutely nothing."
"I can work with that."
Dalla eventually heads to her wing, claiming how tired she is, but really just giving us privacy.
We move to our bedroom—massive space with a balcony overlooking the pool neither of us uses enough.
"Oh," Revna says as she's getting ready for bed. "We're having Sunday dinner this week. Both families since your parents are in town."
"Lord help us all."
"It wasn't that bad last time."
"Your father and mine planned a hunting trip. They're bonding over killing snakes in the Everglades."
"Male bonding is weird," she agrees, sliding into bed beside me.
I pull her close, marveling as always that she's here.
That she chooses to be here. "What are our mothers plotting?"
"Grandchildren, probably. Mom's been dropping hints."
"Already?"
"Apparently three months is long enough to wait." She traces patterns on my chest. "Mom and the other ladies at the club have a bet on how long we can last. Charm gives us five years, since we’re both professionals and have careers.."
"Generous of her."
"Right?" She yawns again. "I'm too tired to think about babies anyway."
"Sleep," I murmur, kissing her forehead.
She's out within minutes, exhausted from law school.
I stay awake longer, thinking about Bembe, about how the MC is going to snap sooner rather than later, about how different everything is from what I imagined.
Three months ago, I thought I'd have a wife who tolerated me at best.
Instead, I have a partner who challenges me, supports me, loves me despite knowing exactly what I am.
My phone buzzes—Mikhail with a late update.
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