Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Like the rest of us, he's had his own shit to deal with. He's had to make his own tough decisions. To save his wife, he realized just how far he was willing to go. It changed him. Love has a way of doing that.
It certainly changed me. I'm not the same man I was before Amalia. I'll never be him again. I'm still not one worthy of her and I probably never will be. No one will ever deserve her as far as I'm concerned. But she's mine, and I work my ass off every day to be someone she can be proud to call hers.
I'm still the man this city fears…but everyone knows the only ones who really need to worry are the criminals. It's their necks that feel the weight of my boot. I don't hurt innocent people. I guess I do have a few moral absolutes after all.
These days, my job isn't difficult. After I killed Genovese and left half of his enforcers piled on his son's doorstep, no one else was stupid enough to come after Amalia. Once word got around that she was the long-lost Cerrito principessa, and that she was my new wife…well, those who remained loyal to her family had no problem swearing their allegiance to the Cerrito-Valentino dynasty.
I'm not saying there weren't problems. There were a fucking ton of those. But we handled them. We'll continue to handle them. I have a queen to protect, and two little girls who look just like her. Soon, I'll have a son too. No one will threaten my family. My father tried the eye for an eye route. It didn't work out. So I'm not doing that. I'm making them untouchable.
"What's your guess?" Norah demands.
Everyone looks to Nico and his brain for the answer.
"I hate this fucking game," he mutters, making me laugh. He doesn't know.
"Grace," I say.
Coda grins.
"Holy shit," Diego says, gaping when Coda picks up the red card and places it over the codeword, indicating that I was correct. "He got it right."
My team gapes at me.
"What was our last clue?" I ask quietly.
"Gambino bambino," Mattia says.
"Card."
Coda's smile grows.
"Holy shit," Gabe whispers.
"How could you possibly know that?" Diego demands.
"Carlo Gambino, the first boss of the Gambino family worked with Meyer Lansky to control gambling in Cuba," I say. "Gambling was his baby. Gambino bambino."
"Jesus Christ," Luca mutters. "You're like a goddamn encyclopedia of mob shit."
"Next clue?" I ask, ignoring him.
"Weapon two," Coda says, indicating there are two on the board.
I run my gaze over the board, quickly picking out the only two logical answers. "Nut and orange."
"Whoa," Norah whispers to Amalia when Coda covers the words with red cards, proving me correct. "Your husband is Murder Batman."
"No," Amalia says, her eyes soft as they meet mine across the table. Her proud smile turns my dick to steel, and I know it'll be a long night once everyone leaves. "He's not. He just refuses to lose."
"Rafe," Amalia moans, her nails in my chest and her head thrown back as she rides me. Her tits bounce, her ass landing in my lap with a loud slap on each downward strike. She looks like a goddess writhing above me, taking her pleasure from me. "God, Rafe."
"Harder, Amalia," I growl, smacking her ass when she lifts off. "I want you to feel me when you breathe tomorrow, amore mio."
She will anyway. I can't ever control myself when I'm inside her. I feel that tight cunt wrapped around my cock, and I lose my mind. It's been five years, and it's the exact same way every time. My wife owns me. I'm more obsessed with her today than ever. I'm more in love with her than ever. She's the center of my universe.
"I don't…" She trails off on a gasp. "Don't take orders from you."
The hell she doesn't. In this bed, she's mine to command.
I growl and slide her off me, flipping her carefully to her knees. I place a pillow under her stomach to protect her pregnant belly, and then lift her hips high in the air. She's only four months along, but I'm always careful with my babies. My hand comes down on her ass in a hard smack.
"Jerk," she growls, rocking back for more.
"You fucking love it." I slam myself inside her.
We both moan.
"Do not," she lies, fucking with me, trying to make me prove it. I'm not sure which of us loves it more. Her? Me?
Both of us, I decide, pounding into her. I thrust my hand into her hair, craning her head back to claim her mouth in a hard kiss. "You can't live without this dick, Amalia," I growl into her mouth. "You live for it, amore mio."
I certainly live for her. For moments like this, when I'm inside her, fucking my way into her soul. And for the moments after, when she's lying quietly in my arms, the sweat cooling on our bodies. I live for every moment with her. For every fiery word from her mouth, and every adoring look. I live for her, period. And for our kids.