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“You’re just upset you can’t kill me.” “Never tried to kill you.” “Debatable. But I know you won’t now. You like my sister and my sister loves me.” I like his sister? Was that what it was? Sounded mediocre in comparison to what I felt about Elena. Gianna’s words suddenly filled my mind. Because you’ll fall in love with her. And she won’t love you back. Well, Jesus H. Christ. Gianna was right. Fuck. This was inconvenient.
“Since we’re getting the threats out of the way—if you ever do anything stupid enough to get another gun pointed at her head, I’ll skin you alive. Got it?” He smirked. “Got it, bro.” Jesus. As of tomorrow, this idiot was my fucking brother-in-law.
My gaze found her ring and my throat tightened. Gianna’s words filled my mouth with a bitter taste. I would make this girl want me, need me, love me, because fuck if I was going it alone.
“Why did you kill Oscar Perez?” I blurted. Nico stood with his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the island. His gaze was as calm and deep as the sea. “Because you were mine.”
He nipped my bottom lip. “You make me fucking crazy.” “Don’t blame me for your psychosis.” “You are my psychosis.” “Rude,”
Something unraveling like a rope. He didn’t go to work those seven days. He taught me how to cheat at cards. How to fuck. And how to make an omelet. His mamma was a good cook, he said. When she wasn’t high, he was quick to specify.
The last thread of the rope snapped. And then it was nothing but me, him, and a long way to the ground. Thrilling, she’d told me. She never said it would hurt.
“Allister.” Christian’s cold tone crept through the line. “Find my wife,”
Crazy, she called me. She had no idea how goddamn crazy I could be. I’d give Christian an hour before I started tearing this city apart piece by piece.
I now understood why women stuck by the men in this world, no matter what they did or said. Love. Why couldn’t it work both ways?
He shook his head in disgust, and my stomach twisted. He hated me. I loved him, and he hated me.
“Men like you break a woman’s heart . . . I didn’t want to love you.” His deep voice filled my ears. “Did it work?” My heartbeat drummed. “No,” I breathed.
“Platonic.” He tensed but stopped, his gaze hot with lust and frustration. I swallowed. “I don’t want to do this if there are going to be other women, Nico. I can’t.” He watched me for two tense seconds. “You’re enough for me.”
I promised him everything because of four words. You’re enough for me.
“If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life.” —Oscar Wilde
Jesus. I’d wanted a wife and I got a damn heart-attack waiting to happen.
She had a long way to go to be a Russo, but hell, I’d walk with her the whole way.
“You’re sweet when you aren’t stealing from me.” I flushed. “Are you going to let me get a job and pay you back?” He laughed. “Do you know how much you stole? It would take you twenty years at best.” “Well . . . I’m not going anywhere, am I?” His gaze burned. “No. I think I’ll keep you.” “Nico . . .” I swallowed. “I really am sorry about the money—” “Don’t be. I’m impressed,” he said, amusement coating his voice. “There might be a little Russo in you yet.”
“You poor thing, you. Looks like you’re stuck with him for good. Ace might be a cheat at heart, but he always does exactly what he says he’s going to do.”
Whiskey and flame. Sleepless nights. Tattooed skin, white t-shirts, and rough hands. Love and lust and happiness. He was everything.
His mamma might not have been a good parent, but without her he wouldn’t exist, and without Nico—and the way he was looking at me—well, that wasn’t a world I wanted to be in.
I told myself not to marry a handsome man, and what did I do? It was all my fault if I got rained on.
“I love you,” I breathed. His gaze burned around the edges, as the mantra of my pulse filled the space between us. Love me too. Love me forever. He stepped forward until his tux brushed my dress, slid his hand to my nape, and pressed his words to my ear. “And I love you, Elena Russo.”
