The Killer's Fake Bride (Possessive Dark Mafia)

“You’re the best,” I said. “This is going to be good for the family, Nessa. We’re going to help save people.”

“I really hope so,” she said, then pulled away. “Now, since this is apparently my last day on Earth, you promised me something about a pool.”

“If you ladies plan on going in the water, I think I just might join you,” Matteo said.

“Don’t be a perv,” I said to him, grinning.

“Can’t be a perv if we’re married. I get to see you wearing as little as I want, whenever I want.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how it works,” Nessa said. “Why don’t you stay in here and let us have some time?”

“All right, if that’s what you want.”

Nessa paused then put a finger to her lips. “Actually, how about you go find another single guy like yourself, and make sure he’s handsome. And rich. And very into me.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Matteo said.

“I like your husband,” Nessa said, linking her arm through mine.

“Easy, girl,” I said, tugging her to the back door. “I don’t think we should both marry a Valentino gangster.”

“It’s not fair. If only I got pregnant first.”

I laughed softly as we stepped outside and headed down to the pool. Somehow, Nessa made me comfortable again, like all my worries slowly drifted away. She had that effect, and though I knew it was only temporary, I let myself enjoy it while it lasted.

15

Matteo

Days passed like water down a roof. Nessa checked in most afternoons, and she said things were going surprisingly well. Some people in the family were ready to hear what she had to say, and while most of them still believed Sam was a traitor, they were at least sympathetic to the idea that the Valentino family wanted peace after all.

But Colm remained stubbornly hidden. If this was going to work, we had to come up with a plan to draw him out into the open somehow. He was the lynchpin to everything, and if we could take him down, the rest of the Healy family would topple along with him.

We drove along the West Philly streets in my truck, circling one particular bar, waiting for a call from Nessa. Sam seemed stressed, and kept shifting in her seat like she wanted to throw off her seatbelt and go running.

“You haven’t spoken a word in a half hour,” I said finally. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Sam said, frowning out the window.

“Come on. I know you better than that.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Do you? We’ve been married for, what, ten days? Seems like you still barely know me at all.”

“I know every inch of your skin,” I said. “I know every curve, every mole, every perfect blemish. I know the way your nipples get hard when I lick them and the right spot to touch between your legs to make you moan. I think I know you pretty well.”

“You know how to have sex with me,” she said, blushing, and that was very, very true—I knew how to fuck her just the way she liked. Ever since that wedding night, I couldn’t get enough. Each night I couldn’t wait for her to go to bed, just so I could sneak into her room, slip under her covers, and tease her body until she spread her legs and took me deep inside. It was a game we played, where she pretended not to want me, but she never locked her door, and she never told me to leave.

I loved it, loved the way she whispered my name in the dark and moaned as she came, loved her lips wrapped around my cock sucking me desperately. And I loved the feeling of her warm body in bed with me as we tried to get back to sleep, limbs still touching, splayed against each other. I worshiped the way she walked, prayed at the altar of her body. She was my deity, my goddess, and I would do anything to make her smile, laugh, moan, come.

“I know you more than that,” I said. “Now what’s the matter?”

“I’m worried about her,” she admitted. “This is a little more aggressive than I expected.”

I nodded and let out a breath. She was right—we hadn’t planned on setting up a meeting like this, but it had been Nessa’s idea.

She came up with it the night before and approached Sam with it. Apparently, some of the soldiers were talking about the war, and Nessa overheard them saying some pretty unsavory shit about Colm. So Nessa took it upon herself to get involved in their conversation, told them everything we told her, from Colm’s refusal to make peace on down to my marriage to Sam.

That got their interest. They were already angry about the long hours and the shitty pay, and especially mad that they kept dying with no real end in sight. Nessa pushed them a little bit, and eventually one approached her later that night and said he wanted to meet with me.