Page 37 of Taking His Heart

“Well, you called the right person. What do you need to know? For the love of god, tell me you are not calling me from jail.”

“No. I saw the prenup paperwork you did for my dad.”

“Oh, yeah, I hear congratulations are in order. When’s the big day?”

“Ah, soon,” I reply vaguely. “I was wondering… what happens if I were to get married before the papers were signed?”

“Don’t do that,” Alistair says. “We can do a postnuptial agreement, but the agreement we drafted was fair, for both parties.”

“Okay. Thanks. Say hi to Dani for me. Sorry I woke you.” I cut the call and find CJ looking at me.

“You want a prenup?” he asks.

“No, but those papers I handed you earlier? Rosie looked at them and then she told me they were a prenup, for us. Our fathers want one.”

“I don’t give a fuck about what our fathers want, Dani. It’s about what you and I want. I don’t need to protect assets from my wife. Besides, I’d never let you leave me anyway.” He smirks. But there’s an undertone of a threat there. I know he’s serious. If I left, he would find me.

“I’m not leaving,” I assure him.

“Let’s go home.” CJ takes my hand and picks up my bag from the chair.

Chapter Seventeen

If ever there was a time I needed to pinch myself to make sure I was awake and not dreaming about some unattainable fantasy, now would be it. My hand is gripped firmly in Daniella’s as I lead her through the front doors of my building. Stopping to introduce her to the doorman.

“John, this is my wife, Daniella,” I say with a proud-as-fuck smile on my face. Because anyone introducing this woman as their wife would be proud.

John’s eyes widen in surprise, but he catches himself quickly and nods at Daniella. “Congratulations, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bianchi.”

Daniella’s smile is as wide as mine. I’m wondering if she’s had a lapse in mental capacity or perhaps she’s been possessed by something not of this world. Because I cannot for the life of me identify why she’s had such a quick change of heart when it comes to us.

I’m not stupid enough to question it, though. The papers are signed. She is my wife, and it will be a cold day in hell before I’ll ever let her go.

My hand grips tighter on hers. I’m still not convinced this is real or that she’s not going to try to change her mind and run out that door. She’s also really fucking quiet. She’s barely said two words since we left the chapel.

“Thank you,” she directs at John before I continue walking towards the elevator.

The doors close and I press my finger against the panel. “I’ll have your metrics put into the system,” I tell her.

“What?”

“To give you access,” I explain.

“Oh, okay.” She nods and stares at the steel doors.

As much as I want to say something else, ask her why the fuck she’s so quiet, I don’t. Mostly because I don’t want to fuck this up. But I get it. We just got fucking married. A spur-of-the-moment decision. I get it. I know it’s a lot to process, and she’s always got something negative going on in her head. She has a lot of self-doubt, which I’m going to do my best to eliminate.

The doors open into my apartment. Daniella goes to step out before I drag her back. Bending, I scoop her up bridle-style.

“What are you doing?” she gasps.

“Carrying you over the threshold. We’re not starting this marriage off on the wrong foot,” I tell her.

When she smiles up at me with a look I haven’t seen on her face for a really fucking long time, I pause. Tempted to take my phone out and snap a picture. It’s love, happiness, that I see on her right now.

I walk straight into the bedroom. “Welcome home, Mrs. Bianchi,” I announce as I lean down and press my lips to hers briefly before throwing her onto the bed. “Now strip.”

Daniella laughs. “You’re bossy.” As the words spill from her mouth, her fingers are working at the buttons on her blouse.