Page 15 of The Mafia Marriage Contract

“So now what? We just go upstairs and camp out for fucking ever? The threat is still out there. It’s only a matter of time before someone shows up to finish the job,” she says, anger and frustration lacing her words.

“Nobody is finishing anything.” I step out of the truck and stroll around to her side, helping her footing on the running board in those obnoxiously high heels. “We’ll be safe here until we can get answers.”

She steps down and pulls away from me. “Great, can’t wait to spend every waking minute with you,hubby.”

It should piss me the fuck off, really. But that fire. It makes my heart pump fast and for some reason I’d let it burn me.

The trucks behind us empty, security surrounding us, guns drawn, as we walk to the elevator.

I turn to face them all, shoulders squared. “Tonight was a fucking disaster. This is on all of you, and there will be consequences if you don’t do your goddamn jobs. I want the entire perimeter of the building sealed off and guards stationed at every corner. Put men on the street, watching everyone who comes and goes. Manthe elevator twenty-four seven. There is no room for any more fuckups, do you all hear me?”

A collective murmur makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I point to Ray, the head of the security detail and my own personal guard.

“Ray, join me upstairs.”

His face pales and he probably thinks I’m going to shoot him in the head or something.

I’m not, but it’s not bad for him to be a little afraid. He fucking snoozed tonight, too.

Ray doles out some orders as the elevator dings, the steel doors opening. Livvie stomps inside and I follow along with Ray. The rest of the security team scatter to their posts and although that should settle me, it doesn’t.

The silence in the elevator is heavy and thick with tension. Ray opens his mouth like he wants to speak but I shoot him a warning glance.

Livvie and I may be married but she’s not part of my world. I don’t trust her or her father and I sure as hell don’t want my private business passed on to the O’Callaghans.

I grab hold of Ray before we get off the elevator. “Make sure none of O’Callaghan’s men find their way into my building.”

“Yes, sir.” Ray stands outside my door and once it closes, Livvie stomps across the marble tile floor and tears off her jewelry. She turns to glare at me as she pulls off her engagement ring and wedding band and tosses them onto the coffee table.

“Fucking gaudy-ass shackle,” she hisses through clenched teeth. Pacing in front of the sofa, she runs herfingers through her long hair, hair I want to fist and tug as I sink balls deep into her again.

Shit.

I grab the sides of my own hair and squeeze my eyes shut.

Get your shit together. Do not think about fucking the enemy again.

Suddenly, Livvie flips around. “That could have been an assassination attempt onme, Kingston. And you sent away my father’s men. How am I supposed to trust that your men are going to protect me? How am I supposed to feel comfortable with that arrangement when you clearly don’t trust me or my family?”

She inches toward me, hands on her hips, fury in her heated gaze. “Why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t. Never trust anyone.” I lift an eyebrow. “Didn’t your daddy teach you that, princess?”

She flips me off. “You're such an asshole, Kingston.”

I walk over to the bar and pour myself a bourbon. I shoot it back, enjoying the burn. Then I pour a second glass.

Livvie stalks toward me and grabs a glass.

“Not so much of a gentleman behind closed doors, hmm?” she spews sarcastically. I bite back a smile. She’s a spark plug, for sure.

But nothing about this marriage is supposed to be fun.

A buzzing sound cuts through the air and Livvie reaches into a hidden pocket in the gown. She pulls out her phone and stares at the screen. She swallows hard and shoves the phone back into her pocket.

“Who texted you?” I say, my fingerstightening around the glass.

“None of your business.” She sips her whiskey, her fingers tracing the granite bartop.