More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
I lay my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, how strong it was, how in sync it was with mine.
Regardless of what I was born into, I’d always thought of myself as a moral and honest person. Maybe my roots were too deep, or maybe love gave a woman a reason to let her dark colors shine, because I suddenly knew I would lie, cheat, and steal for this man. I would burn the world for him. He was King of the Cosa Nostra. And he was all mine.
“If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life.” —Oscar Wilde
She went still, her guilt-ridden thoughts swirling in the air around us. I sighed, turned her around, and pressed her face into my chest. She wrapped her arms around me, and satisfaction hummed in my throat.
She had a long way to go to be a Russo, but hell, I’d walk with her the whole way.
“There’s not a chance some man’s putting his hands all over you, Elena.” I turned, my lips pulling into a frown. “Do strippers touch?” “It’s called a fucking lap dance, baby,” he growled. “Oh,” I said nonchalantly and turned back around. “Good to know.” “Good to know, why?” “I’ll have to shave.” That comment got me tossed on the bed, and I was laughing before I hit the mattress.
LOL
“Nobody touches you, Elena, no matter what you do tonight. Do you understand me?” “Nobody touches you,” I shot back. We stared at each other for a moment, the realization of how deep we were both in sweeping into the room. Amusing, as we were married, but also thrilling in its possessiveness and need. He was mine, and nobody else could have him. “Sounds like we’ve got a deal,”
“Nico, we can’t sit in here forever,” I sighed. His gaze met mine. “Screw the parties. Let’s go home. I’ll fuck you nice and slow all night long.”
“But I’ll be missing you more.” “Damn,” he drawled. “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.”
“He sees something he wants, and he takes it—just like his papà. I fucking knew I shouldn’t have let him see you until he married your sister.”
This is killing me
For the first time in my life, I felt free to be me. To curse if I wanted, to keep my smiles for who deserved them, to be bad at something, to fall in love. Nico didn’t treat me like glass. He shattered the reflection of an empty life staring back at me. He taught me how to soar.
“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.”
And from that moment on, I called him Ace whenever I was drunk, Nicolas when I was mad, and Nico all the times in between.
“How are you so handsome?” He chuckled. “God’s gift, I guess.”
“Love is a strange dark magic.” —Atticus
I’d always imagined love as a concept—a genuine smile, a couple holding hands, a life partner. Now, I knew it was more dimensional; a maddening, possessive, and overwhelming presence that bloomed in your chest, with the power to make you feel so alive or shatter you to pieces.
Adriana rolled her eyes and sat down, her engagement ring sparkling in the light. She was marrying her gardener; she’d told me last night. Her ring was almost bigger than mine and I knew Ryan couldn’t have afforded it. Most likely my papà bought it and gave Ryan a certain amount of time to propose. Whether Ryan liked it or not, he was now in this world for good.
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.
Maybe things would be all right, after all, because if my father made me choose between him and my husband for good, I wouldn’t have to even think it through.
This time I repeated the priest’s words with conviction. This time I burned under the timbre of Nico’s voice. This time I kissed my husband on the lips like I meant it. The guests whooped and hollered, and Nico chuckled at my enthusiasm. “You’re all mine,” I breathed against his lips.
I flushed and blinked at him. “You like my dress?” His hand ran to the back of my neck and he kissed me deeply. “You’re beautiful, baby.”
I yanked his tie from his vest. “I like it. Pink suits you.” “Yeah?” he drawled. “And where’s your pink?” A flirty smile pulled on my lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Amongst cracked pavement, the fading sound of sirens, and the taste of urban air, the yellow lights of a carousel blinked bright beneath the overcast sky. It sat static, alone and beautiful.
OMG
“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.”
He loved me forever.
