White hot pain radiates through my arm, but I pay it no attention. I open the exit and see the black SUV parked with the engine running. I pull out my gun and cock it, just in case. One of my men opens the car door, shoves Serenity in, and I get in right behind her.

  “Go! Go! Go!” I shout to the driver, slamming my hand on the back of his seat.

  Serenity cries out as she looks at the arm I’m clutching. Blood oozes between my fingers and starts coating the gun in my hand. She takes the gun by the barrel and puts it on the ground, then tugs at my suit jacket, trying to get it off me. The car swings back and forth as we get onto the highway and drive to the safe house.

  I had a place built out in the desert in case something happened, and this is one of those cases. I thought we were safe at the casino, but the Donnelleys are stupider than I thought. They made a statement tonight by doing this. They’re saying that I ain’t shit, and they can walk up and shoot my wife if they want.

  Anger rages through me so much that I don’t even feel the pain in my arm. I look at Serenity, who looks at me with such fear, then looks at my wound. She tugs at her dress, ripping part of it off and tying the material around my arm.

  That’s when I notice her hands are covered in blood.

  I’m so disappointed in myself. Why did I take her out? I let my arrogance put my wife in jeopardy. That’s it. She’s staying at the safe house until this is over. There’s no fucking way we’re doing this again.

  I hear Serenity sniffle as we drive off into the night. The adrenaline slowly ebbs away, and the silence brings everything down. The engine's rumble is the only noise in the car, except for Serenity crying. I pull her into my arms, ignoring the pinch of pain.

  “Shh...” I run my hand through her hair and down her back as she clings to me, her tears soaking my dress shirt.

  At one point, we exit the SUV, get into another cheaper car, and drive the rest of the way. One man will dump the vehicle, and the other will drive us to the house. The clink of little rocks hitting the car as he goes down the driveway echoes, and I watch the dust pass us by.

  When we get to the house, I tell the driver to leave us, and I’ll contact him shortly. I wrap my jacket around Serenity and punch in the code for the house. It’s not as big as the mansion, but it's not like a cabin. It has a main floor and then a basement. The walls are thick, and the windows are bulletproof.

  The light automatically turns on as we enter. Serenity looks around, not sure what to expect.

  “We’re safe here, Serenity.” I groan as I reach to the top shelf next to the door and pull out the first aid kit.

  The next room over is the kitchen, and I set the box down on the counter and then start taking off my shirt. I struggle with it, and with an exasperated breath, Serenity says, “Let me.”

  She leaves me no room to protest; she just rips off my shirt and opens the box. She’s gone from fear and sadness to anger. Despite that, her touch is still gentle. She wipes away the blood and pours alcohol onto a cloth before pressing it over the wound.

  I hiss as the sharp pain hits me, but I just breathe and keep myself calm.

  It was only a scratch. The bullet just sliced through my arm. Nothing is embedded. Thank fuck, because I don’t know if Serenity could remain gentle if she had to dig out a bullet. After the wound is dressed, I put my shirt back on and search the kitchen for some whiskey.

  I’ll call Rico later. Right now, I need a drink. I pour both of us a glass, and we down them before I pour another. Serenity looks like she’s losing it a bit. She’s pacing, eyes wide, searching for… something.

  I go to give her a hug when she snaps at me.

  “Why did you marry me?” she shouts her question at me, rage bubbling over. She grabs at my bloody shirt and then quickly releases it like she’s afraid she hurt me.

  I grab her balled-up fists and place them on my chest.

  I don’t know why that’s her question, but I answer it honestly.

  “The original plan was because the Donnelleys, the men who shot at us, were after you. I needed to ensure they knew who you belonged to and a wedding was the best choice. But—” I stop myself from speaking. From admitting the real reason I married her.

  “But what?” Tears stream down her cheeks, and she pushes me slightly. “But fucking what, Dante? Tell me.”

  “But I wanted you to be mine. Regardless of what the Donnelleys will or won’t do. I wanted—needed—you to be mine.”

  She gasps, and I release her hands. She takes a few steps back, and there’s nothing more I want to do than wrap my arms around her. I feel her slipping from me, but I can’t put her back into a cage. She doesn’t belong there.

  She cups her face and takes a few ragged breaths.

  “This is a disaster,” she says through her fingers.

  Serenity runs her hands through her hair and starts to nod like she’s agreed to something or accepted my answer.

  “What are we going to do now?” she asks.

  “I need to talk to Rico. He’ll tell me everything on his end, and until he thinks we’re safe, we'll stay here. I may return to town, but you’re not leaving here.”

  She nods.

  There’s so much she doesn’t know, and the need to tell her everything is starting to bubble over. But we've been through a lot, and I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about how many people I’ve killed or other bad things I’ve done or what I will do.

  But I need to give her something, so I offer her this.

  “Since we’re being honest…” I say, twirling the liquid in my glass. “I was drunk when I asked you to marry me because I was thinking about my father. He’s the reason I’m this… dark. I don’t know what it is, but every time I think about him, I look for the first thing that will get him away from me.” I sigh. “I was doing so well.” My voice is solemn. “Anyway, it had nothing to do with you, and it’s not something that happens often. I just… had a bad day.”

  She nods in understanding and sits on the couch that sits alongside the far wall.

  It might have been a bad day but I still don’t regret asking her to marry me. Not only was it the smart move but… I like it. I like her being mine.

  I take my drink and sit beside her, a sigh breathing past my lips as I lean against the couch.

  After a long stretch of silence, Serenity says, “So we both have shitty dads, huh?”

  I nod. “Yup. The worst of the worst.”

  “I guess out of all the things we have in common, this is probably the most likely,” she comments.

  “That or favorite food, I guess,” I reply.

  Another beat of silence passes us.

  “I like pizza,” she says.

  I smile into my drink. “I do, too.” I chuckle softly, covering my mouth to hide it.

  That little exchange shifts the mood. We both seem to calm down, if only for a little while.

  Chapter 13

  Serenity

  “What’s your favorite color?” Dante asks.

  “Green. You?”

  “Red.”

  We’ve been doing this for the last hour. Drinking whiskey and asking each other questions, getting to know each other, and seeing what else we have in common. It’s maybe the most normal thing we’ve done since we met.

  I run my fingers over the tattoos on his hand. A black rose on the back of his hand and covering each knuckle are letters spelling “WIFE.”

  “Did it hurt?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe. But I have a high pain tolerance.”

  “Same,” I say, remembering feeling almost nothing during the blood tests I took with that doctor. Just a prick.

  Which reminds me…

  “How do you know that doctor? My new OB.”

  Dante takes another swig of the whiskey in the bottle before answering.

  “I knew her husband. Her ex-husband. A real piece of shit. She was in medical school, and he kept trying to pull her out, stealing her money for her tuition and shit. Anyway, after she had exhausted every other avenue to get rid of him, she found us. We made a deal. We would put her through school, and she would work for us.”

  “That’s heroic?” I say, sipping my drink.

  “If you say so,” he sighs.

  “Yeah. It is. You got rid of her abusive ex-husband, and she got to have a career. I mean, she’s forever tied to the mob, but you lot seem to be… I don’t know… nice to women. Well, most women.”

  His eyes get serious, and he cups my face as he explains, “I have never kidnapped a woman before. We usually leave women and children alone, but…”

  “But what?”

  “But I wanted you.” You can hear the honesty in his voice. Not only is there honesty, but there isn’t any remorse either. He doesn’t regret wanting me.

  That actually fills me with a sense of relief. That we both jumped into something new and crazy.

  “Favorite holiday?” I ask him, changing the subject before I get too emotional. Again. I don’t think I need to get all weepy about how much Dante cares for women in trouble. I can hear in his voice how much he hates the doctor’s ex and wants to help her. Damn, every time I think I know Dante, he reveals a new part of him that makes me wonder if there’s a good man under that dark and bloody suit.

  He grins as he says, “Christmas. You?”

  I shake my head.

  “I hate Christmas. Actually, come to think of it, I’m not much of a holiday person.”

  “Why don’t you like Christmas?”

  I shrug. “I always looked forward to it when I was a kid, but then Dad started to forget it, and anytime I’d bring it up, he’d yell at me about how we didn’t have any money and Christmas isn’t that great anyway. Kind of took the magic away. Of course, I didn’t realize then that the reason we didn’t have any money was because he gambled it all away.” I purse my lips before sighing. “I mean, it wasn’t about the stuff, really. Just about the way he seemed to never think of me.”

  I clear my throat and feel a tear run down my cheek. I wipe it off and then down the rest of my drink.

  “Christmas is soon,” Dante says, and I nod.

  “Yeah.”

  “Maybe this year will be different,” he says confidently.

  I scoff. “How could you be so sure?”

  He gives me a cocky grin, tipping my head back and running his nose over my jawline before whispering in my ear, “Because Santa’s coming to town.”

  I laugh at his little joke. The sound echoes through the barely furnished house.

  “I love that sound,” Dante says, nuzzling my neck, his hot breath grazing my skin.

  “What?”

  “You laughing. I haven’t heard it a lot.” He takes my hand and presses it against his erection. “It makes me hard.”

  “Why does my laughing make you hard? I didn’t know comedy was a turn-on.”

  He shakes his head as he pulls back. “It’s not the comedy of it. Your happiness turns me on.”

  The air shifts in the room, and suddenly, lust is coming through loud and clear. I squeeze his cock through his slacks, and Dante groans.

  “What else about me turns you on?” I whisper.

  He looks down at the clothes I changed into. I’m in a very thin shirt and no bra, my nipples visible. He grins.

  “Your tits. Your entire body is beautiful and sexy.”

  Need grows within me like a fire being given air.

  “Go on,” I say as I keep stroking his cock under his trousers.

  “The way you drink, I can’t help but watch you drink and think of you swallowing my cum. You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

  I blush before pulling my hand away and standing up, and he follows suit. I walk over to the bedroom, and he closes the door behind him as soon as he enters. The room is small with wood floors, one window closed by a beige blind, and a bed against the wall.

  My pussy is pulsing, and I can feel my arousal dripping down my thigh.

  I need this man. I need my husband to make it better. Our talk calmed me down from all the fear of what could’ve happened—what did happen. But I need more.

  Dante walks the few strides it takes to stand in front of me. His big body filling my space. A wave of comfort washes over me as I run my hands up his chest, feeling the taut muscles underneath.

  The scent of pine invades my senses and my whole body tingles. The same feeling I had in that cage when he fingered me for the first time hits me. The need to be comforted. I look up at him, yearning in my eyes plain as day.

  Dante

  “Do you need me, Bambola?” I whisper, running my knuckles over her cheek.

  She nods her head.

  “Show me. Show me how much you need me.”

  Serenity looks at me and then reaches for my belt. She pulls the leather out of the loop, pinches the zipper, and tugs it down. Panting breaths make her chest heave, her breasts rising and falling under that thin T-shirt.

  I reach for her shirt and tug it over her head.

  “I need to see those tits,” I groan out.

  Her nipples harden under the cool air. Reaching out, I cup the warm flesh in my hand, kneading her globes as she pulls out my cock and starts stroking me. I’m hard and aching in her hands, and I feel my knees threaten to give. I've been trying to get this woman on her knees to no avail. She does not realize that all she would need to do is ask, and I’d bend the knee for her.

  Her breath is shaky as she presses kisses to my chest.

  “Are you scared of me?” I press my hand against the back of her head, my lips grazing her hair.

  “What?” She looks up, and I look down at her.

  “You’re shaking,” I state.

  She closes her eyes and shakes her head, but her hand stops stroking my dick.

  “I’m not scared of you. I’m scared for you. You got shot because of me. Because of my father, and they aren’t going to stop.”

  Tears prick her eyes, and I hate that she cries for me. I rub my thumb over a fallen tear, then tip her head back so she looks into my eyes.

  “I’d do anything for you, Serenity. It’s too late for anything less.”

  Then, slowly, I sink to my knees. One at a time. The ache in my chest reveals how much I need her.

  I grab Serenity’s hands and have her cup my cheeks.

  “I’m yours, Serenity. You are my wife. My queen.” I press a kiss against her stomach. “And soon, you will be the mother of my child. If you aren’t already.”

  Her gaze softens, and she runs her thumb over my cheek, and I lean into her warm touch. My life has been so cold up until this point. Full of chaos and death and destruction.

  I know someone like me doesn’t deserve a woman like her, but I’ll be damned if I let her go.

  Serenity kneels down and pushes me onto the floor. Her breasts sway as she crawls up my body and straddles me. She reaches between her legs and grabs my cock, positioning it at her entrance. The entire world disappears as she sinks down onto my shaft, her pussy enveloping me in her tight, wet heat.

  I groan and watch her ride me. Her hips rolling, her hands pressing against my chest as soft moans leave her beautiful lips.

  “That’s it, Bambola. Ride me. Ride your king.”

  Her eyes open and the look of power and control is evident. This is the most confident I’ve seen her since she got here. She wasn’t very fiery when we met, though no one would mistake her for a wallflower, but this is different.

  This is a woman who knows what she wants and is taking it.

  That look of power on her face has my balls drawing up, ready to unload into her cunt. Her nails dig into my chest, and I groan out a string of curse words when she squeezes her pussy around my shaft.

  She’s teasing me. Sliding up and down slowly. My cock almost falls out of her before she slams back down. It’s agonizingly erotic.

  “Oh, fuck. You’re killing me.”

  “Now you know how I feel,” she pants. “Leaving me hanging in the bathroom. Aching and needy. Just like you wanted me. Now it’s your turn, buddy.”

  I huff out a laugh. I can’t help myself. Serenity has been nothing but a surprise since we met. And she continues to do so.

  She rolls her hips again, and I grip her thighs, my nails digging into her soft body.

  She keeps bouncing on my cock, a smile on her face, clearly enjoying herself.

  “Please, Bambola,” I beg softly, reaching to cup her face.

  “You can come anytime you want, husband.” She grins as if the answer is obvious.

  I sit up and grip the back of her hair, pulling her head back. I run my teeth against her neck as my hand wraps around her waist. Her hips keep moving, but I help her lift up and slam down on me. We go from a teasing lovemaking to fucking like animals.

  Growls and slapping flesh echo around the room, a symphony of debauchery as both of us find the peak. She falls over before me, screaming my name. Her pussy clams around me, making me come. I empty myself into her as she shakes above me, her hands gripping my hair.

  I'm coming so hard I can’t hear anything. And the pain in my arm is long forgotten. I just enjoy the rush as I press my body against my wife’s, my lips kissing her soft skin.

  As the high dissipates, I fall onto my back, Serenity falling over me. I run my hand up and down her back, soothing her.

  Our relationship has definitely shifted. She’s no longer my captor. She’s my equal. That thought both scares me and fills me with pride. On the one hand, the more power she has, the darker shit she’ll see. On the other, maybe she can handle it. I’ve definitely underestimated her, so perhaps I should trust her.

  I carry her to the bed and pull the sheets over us. Her breathing evens out, and she’s asleep. It takes me a while to drift off, thoughts of my next steps running through my mind.

  The only thing I know is this—the Donnelleys are finished.

  Chapter 14

  Dante

  It’s one a.m., and I still haven’t fallen asleep. A few hours ago, we moved from the floor to the bed, and Serenity fell instantly asleep. After I heard her breathing settle, I got up to call Rico.