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The woman in the window looks like she’d only smile if she were slitting your throat.
I’ve never seen an attractive serial killer, but I bet this is exactly what she’d look like.
“I don’t take orders, Mr. Quinn. I also don’t address grown men by ridiculous nicknames, nor do I appreciate being given one. Though I have to admit the ‘viper’ is accurate, but the ‘wee’ is completely off mark. I’m as big as they come.”
“You should also keep in mind that vipers are venomous … and they eat spiders for lunch.”
Honestly, I haven’t felt this unhinged in years. The man brings out the animal in me.
He inhales deeply against my neck, raising goose bumps all along my arms. I stiffen. He exhales, making a low sound of pleasure deep in his throat.
The most important one being that if he knew Lili was in the house all along, why did he stay and eat supper with me? “Oh my God,” I say aloud, horrified. “Does that son of a bitch think he’s getting a two-for-one special?”
This is the strike of the match that lit the raging forest fire. This is dark, intense, and dangerous. This is need, not want … and I don’t like it at all.
“Because a man who’d marry a woman for any reason other than love has the soul of a monster.”
“Flashed my tits at him. He froze like a deer in headlights.” Funny how I can be insanely jealous of a dead man I’ve never met. “How creative.” “Men are annoyingly predictable.” “Tits are our Achilles’ heel. Now get down to the basement with your brother and Lili. I’ll clear the rest of—” “Oh, shut up, Quinn,” she interrupts crossly, then spins around and strides out of the room.
His nipples are pierced with small silver studs.
“I’d like to kill him.” “Who?” “Your husband. If he were still alive, I’d kill him for you. And I wouldn’t make it quick.”
Men don’t like unpredictable things they can’t control. Which is why they prefer dogs over cats.
Honestly, the man should see a doctor about his mood changes. A girl could get a broken neck trying to keep up.
“Will you please stop calling me ‘woman’ like it’s a bad word? I hate that!” His piercing gaze on mine, he replies softly, “I’ve never said it like it’s a bad word. It’s the most beautiful word in the language.”
“A word of advice? Stay away from Boston for a while after the wedding. Like, forever.” I’m not sure I want to know what she means, but I ask anyway. “Why?” “Because, babe, any man who looks at a woman the way Spider looks at you is already thinking about how he’s going to ruin his life.”
Then he looks up at me and grins. “I just wifed a viper.” My laugh is faint and disbelieving. “And I just married an insect.” “Arachnid,” he corrects, eyes sparkling. “Excuse me. That’s much better.”
“You’re an idiot.” “But I’m your idiot,” he says, his laughter fading. His voice lowers an octave. His gaze grows intense. “And you’re my viper.”
“Viper. My lovely, lethal wife. You’re fucking perfect, inside and out. Don’t ever worry about disappointing me. You couldn’t. Even when you’re homicidal or hurling insults, you take my breath away.”
Her entire back is covered in raised white scars, each a finger’s width and about as long.
“I’m sorry for every stupid, arrogant thing I’ve said and done since we met. For every time I was rude. For how I’ve acted. For—fuck!—I don’t even know what! For being a man! But most of all for forcing you to marry me. Jesus Christ. What have I done. What have I fucking done?”
“Don’t you dare look at me with pity. I’m not a victim. I’m a survivor. I’m alive. There are millions of other women just like me who weren’t so lucky.”
Later on, I’ll look back and realize this is the exact moment I fell in love with her.
“I’ll kill anyone who ever disrespects you. I’ll kill anyone who even looks at you the wrong way. If anyone so much as annoys you, I’ll put a bullet in his skull and throw his body into the Charles River. You never have to fight your own battles again, viper, understood? I’ll fucking destroy any dumb motherfucker who ever dares to even make you frown.”
“Fucking hell, you’re gorgeous. My sweet girl. I’d kill an army for you. I’d burn down empires and lay all their gold at your feet.”
“I guess I like that they’re written for women. The whole world is made to please the male gaze, but romance novels only care about what we want. What we need. They’re specifically for our pleasure. Some of the stories are great escapist fantasies.”
“I think you’re a brilliant golden sun in a sky that’s only ever known the black and starless night.”
“I’ll kill anyone who ever hurts you. Including myself.”
My stunned, achy, battered heart that doesn’t have a bloody clue what just hit it. It’s been bitten by a viper with sharp fangs and the sweetest venom.
“It means you love what hurts you.” A delicate shiver runs through her body. Burrowing closer to me, she whispers, “Don’t love what hurts you, Quinn. Whatever hurts you doesn’t deserve you. You’re made for so much better than that.”
“You’re a privilege I don’t deserve, but I’m going to spend the rest of both our lives trying to be worthy of you.”
Until one of the Italian soldiers says under his breath, “That bitch needs to be put in her place.” Scalding heat rushes up my neck and burns my ears. Every hair on my body bristles. I say loudly, “Did you just disrespect my wife?” When he smirks at me, I pull out my gun and put a bullet in his head.
“I was nineteen years old, and responsible for unimaginable carnage.”
“What if you were named capo of the Five Families? Would that change anything?”
If Declan tried to harm me, Quinn would kill him. His boss, his friend, a person he once described as the best man he’s ever known. He’d kill him to protect me.
“And you knew when I walked into this room that Gianni was dead. You only gave me the concession about Stavros and told me to send over the other changes because you already knew I’d been named capo. You even knew back at that meeting at the warehouse with Alessandro and the others that they were testing my loyalties. You knew the night we came for supper that the woman who agreed to marry this man next to me was a potential candidate for the most powerful position in the Cosa Nostra. You’ve known an awful lot all along, Mr. O’Donnell.” He says evenly, “You can’t blame a leopard for its spots,
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I guess that’s the funny thing about love, though. Its fire can forge soul mates from even the most bitter of enemies.
