Page 66 of The Mafia Marriage Contract

“I didn’t ask for them to do that,” I mutter. “And by the way, I was in surgery. It wasn’t like I could do much to stop them.”

She slowly turns to look at me, the skin under her eyes slightly puffy. Her lips pull into a tight line, her fingertips white from the pressure on the glass.

“You think I had something to do with it.”

I sigh. “No.”

“You didn’t answer fast enough.”

I grit my teeth. “It’s not that simple.”

“Isn’t it?” She walks toward me slowly, deliberately. “Bronx accused me of setting up the whole thing. And then your father exiled me from the building. You’re telling me you had nothing to do with that decision?”

My fingers twitch at my side. I want to reach for her. I want to shake her. I want to fuck the fight right out of both of us.

“I was bleeding out, Livvie. I didn’tknow anything until I woke up.”

She stops in front of me. Arms crossed, head tilted.

“They took me back here and put me under surveillance to make sure I didn’t make any calls. I didn’t know if you were alive or dead. You must have woken up at some point. You could have told someone to call me, just to let me know. Unless you also believe I was involved.” Her eyebrow lifts and the accusation in her voice is like a dagger straight into my heart.

“I couldn’t even piss without help. Forgive me for not storming the ICU with an IV drip and a limp.”

She snorts but it’s not from amusement. It’s pain. Frustration. Confusion wrapped in her signature venomous armor.

“I kept you alive,” she says softly now. “I dragged your bleeding ass into the back of the truck and held your shoulder together with a fucking jacket and a prayer.”

“I know.”

Her chin trembles. Just for a second. “Then why don’t I feel like you trust me?”

I struggle to get off the couch, gritting my teeth with every tiny movement. Pain lances through my side and shoulder but I push through it. I don’t care.

“I was too fucked up to think clearly last night. And the surveillance was supposed to be for your protection and mine.”

“That’s bullshit,” she says. “Your family thinks I did this, that I betrayed you. Meanwhile?—”

“My father put me in this position,” I say. “He kept his fucking secrets and now everything he tried to hide from me and the rest of my family is unraveling. We’re all at risk now.”

She stares at me. Eyes shimmering. Lips parted.

And then she shoves me.

“Asshole.”

I groan. It wasn’t a hard hit, but fuck. “Jesus, Livvie. Are you trying to put me back in the hospital? Because that’s gonna make me think you really are guilty.”

“You still let them treat me like dirt.”

“I’m not them.”

“You are tothem. And they think I’m guilty. They’re going to try to get rid of me. It’s a betrayal, Kingston. Somebody set me up to take the fall, and you’ll never convince them otherwise.”

Using my good hand, I fist the T-shirt and draw her close. A soft hiss of breath slips from her lips. I bring my face closer to hers, our foreheads practically touching.

“Anyone who tries to hurt you will answer to me. I won’t let them near you.” But even as I speak the words, the fucking annoying voice in the back of my mind taunts me.

Am I really as pussy-whipped as my father thinks I am? So much so that I have blinders on when it comes to my sexy as fuck wife?