Page 71 of The Mafia Marriage Contract

I roll my eyes and start walking again. Naturally, he follows.

“Do you always skulk in my shadow?” I ask, not looking at him. “My father hasn’t called me to find out if Kingston survived the shooting, and now you suddenly pop up like a knight in dark Armani?”

He appears to my left and gently bumps his elbow into my arm. “You’re paler than usual and obviously rattled by something.Andyou’re lying about where you’ve been because there aren’t any decent gelato stores nearby.”

I clench my jaw. “I’m allowed to go for a damn walk, Roman.”

“No,” he says softly. “Not on your own.”

A beat passes.

“Livvie…” His voice lowers, gentle and dangerous all at once. “Whatever you’re walking around with right now? It’s eating you alive. I can see it. Wanna tell me what’s going on so I can help you?”

I break eye contact, looking out at the skyline.

He doesn’t press further. But he doesn’t leave either.

I trusted him once upon a time, long before my father found out we were screwing around. We had fun together back when he was my bodyguard. However, our fling didn’t involve emotions or vows or wedding rings. Nor did it evolve into anything close to what I’ve found in Kingston.

Nevertheless, Roman was one of the good guys. He cared enough to risk his job. So maybe he’s the only one I can turn to for help.

“Come back to my place and we’ll figure it out together, Liv.”

22

KINGSTON

“The choice is yours, Kingston. Kill Cormac O’Callaghan or die.”

My eyes fly open as I suck in a breath and shoot up from the mattress.

“Goddammit,” I bite out, wincing at the pain slicing into my slinged shoulder. The black sheets knot around my ankles. I kick them away, my eyes darting around for any sign of Livvie since her spot beside me is empty.

Maybe she’s in the conservatory. The walls are soundproof so I wouldn’t hear her playing from my bedroom.

Swinging my legs around the side of the bed, I slowly stand up. I don’t bother with clothes, kicking them out of my way as I head for the door. Livvie stripped me down before we got into bed last night so I didn’t strain my shoulder and pop any stitches.

Then she kept my cock thoroughly occupied for the next few hours. We fucked until the glow of early dawn peeked in through the blinds. She fell asleep before me.

I can still feel the tickle of her hair against my chest, the warmth of her body cocooned into my good side, the possessiveness displayed by her long, toned leg slung over mine.

She held me tight, her even breaths fluttering softly against my skin as she slept.

My mind trips back to the verbal lashing I got from my father at the hospital for letting her fuck with my head.

I rake a hand through my hair as I walk down the hallway toward the conservatory.

He fucking knew, didn’t he? He knew the Tribunal would come to me wanting blood. He knew I’d be forced to kill Cormac. He knew Livvie would be collateral damage. He knew everything.

And because I’d dug my heels in so deep and resisted this wedding in the first place, he figured she’d be out of the picture before the ink on our marriage certificate was even dry.

He never expected us to…

To fucking what?

Like each other?

More than like each other?