Page 194 of Vows of a Mobster

If that tone was directed at me, I wasn’t sure if I’d hold. Despite myself, my eyes returned to her. Declan twisted the knife around, one more time to emphasize the pain. She screamed in agonizing pain. Despite the fact she wanted me dead and hated me so much, tears started streaming down my face.

“You destroyed my life,” my mother’s voice was a whimper, her eyes on me with hate. “I lost it all because of you.”

“You lost it all because you were a clumsy bitch and broke your leg,” Mateo spat, his voice unsympathetic. “You destroyed your own life.”

“It was supposed to be mine,” she hissed. “He was supposed to leave it all to me. I was his wife. But he adored you, always doted all over you. Like you were really his precious daughter. Our marriage was miserable because of you!”

She blamed me for her dysfunctional marriage and her failed career. She blamed me for all her misery.

“Last chance,” Mateo offered, his knife between his fingers.

I turned away from my mom, knowing she’d meet the same fate as Angelica.

“If you would have asked, Mother,” I glanced at her bloodied form over my shoulder, “I would have signed it all over to you.”

She knew I didn’t lie. It was that simple. All she had to do was ask. If anything, I would have taken enough to be able to afford treatments for Emma. She could have had it all.

“No, there is nobody else going after Brianna and her kid.” They were her last words.

I took three steps before I heard the gun go off. I couldn’t look back. I didn’t want to see it and despite all of it, I felt a pang in my chest. Maybe it was for a mother that I could have had or this one that wasn’t much of one, I wasn’t sure. But this time tears never came. Relief did, knowing Emma was safe from her now.

I felt Mateo’s arms surround me as he moved to stand before me. I leaned my forehead against his chest, inhaling deeply.

“All good?” Declan’s hand came to my shoulder, and I felt Mateo stiffen. The first thought that hit me was that my body could differentiate Declan’s touch from my husband’s. The second thought was that Mateo would kill him unless he left the room.

“Declan, please check on Marissa and Emma,” I told him.

“I want to slice your hands off for touching my wife.” Mateo’s voice was cold, but there was no mistaking the hate and rage in the undertone of it.

And there was my confirmation, another one, of the ruthless mobster boss in my husband. It was there all along, just hidden under his charm and touch that made me melt for him. I had never seen it as clear as I did today.

I met his eyes. The fury in them reminded me of the stormy lakes buried deep in the woods.

“But we won’t do that,” I spoke softly, my palm on his cheek. “Declan is family.” Never breaking from my husband’s gaze, I continued, “Go, Declan. And have Antonio take care of the mess.”

I sent the head of the Irish mafia away, knowing what I had to do.

The moment the door clicked behind me, Mateo’s words cut into me. “Nobody touches what is mine and lives to tell.”

“He won’t be telling anything.”

“Did you like his hands on you?” he asked with a growl. “You were wet for him.”

“Mateo, I love you.You.” I couldn’t tell him I didn’t enjoy Declan’s hands on me. He’d know I was lying. “My body responded, yes. But it is only natural. Your hands were on me too.”

“My men and his men saw through the window.” My husband was barely holding on to his calm demeanor.

“Then show them who I belong to, Mateo,” I told him, taking his hand into mine. His eyes snapped to me in surprise, full of questions and disbelief. I continued in a calm voice, although my insides shook. I couldn’t pause to debate whether it was in excitement or dread. Yeah, I’ve come a long way from one lousy sexual encounter. ”Take me to the middle of the lawn, another window or balcony, and fuck me the only way my husband can. I don’t care where you do it. Show them who I belong to.”

I saw the possessiveness enter his eyes. Maybe that wasn’t the best suggestion, but I was way out of my element here. Killing Declan was out of the question. Either Mateo coughed up this entire incident to a miserable experience, or he had to tell me what would make him feel better. I refused to live the rest of our lives with the lingering thoughts in my husband’s head about Declan and his hands on me.

If Mateo wanted to brand me as his, I didn’t care. I was his already.

Without forewarning, he lifted me into his arms and strode out the room. He barely left the room and went across a hallway when he shoved opened the French door to a balcony. I heard the doors slamming and half expected the glass to shatter. But it didn’t.

I wouldn’t shatter either.

On the balcony he pushed me against the wall. This balcony faced the front of the house and the only relief was that Marissa and Emma wouldn’t be able to spot this from our car.