Page 39 of A Bride for the Mafia King

We lock the armory behind us with a solid click. The sound reverberates through the quiet like the final nail in a coffin.

Yaro takes the lead down the corridor toward the elevator. I let him, a motion flickers in my peripheral vision. And when I turn, I freeze in place.

Eva is there.

Her slight frame is visible in the bedroom doorway, bathed in golden light that spills into the hallway from the light behind her. A sheen of sweat glistens on her brow, her chest rising and falling from exertion. Her leggings cling to her curves like a second skin, the hem of her tank riding up to reveal a sliver of her stomach.

She must have been in the middle of a workout. But her eyes are on me. Wide. Curious. Concerned. She’s stunning. Effortlessly. Unknowingly. But that’s not what stops me.

It’s the look in her eyes. She’s not stupid. She can feel the change in the air. Taste it. I move toward her, every step measured. “We didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Her eyes search mine as she shakes her head. “It’s alright. I heard movement and thought I’d see what’s up. Where… where are you going?”

“I’ll fill you in when I get home later tonight.” I reach her, slide an arm around her waist, and pull her to me. Her body’s warm against mine, heart still racing beneath her damp skin. I press a kiss to her forehead and linger there for a breath longer than I should.

Her skin’s still warm, her breath shallow. I bend down and kiss her forehead. She smells like vanilla and salt, fresh sweat and skin. She rests her hands lightly on my chest, then slides them up to hook behind my neck.

She tilts her chin up, searching my face. “Tolya, tell me where you're going…”

I shake my head slowly as I lean into her, my lips brush the shell of her ear. Placing a soft kiss on the curve of her neck just below her ear.

“I’ll be back later.”

Her brow furrows. “Is everything alright?”

“It’ll be fine,” I lie. It’s all I give her. All I can give her.

She doesn’t like the answer. I can see it in the way her lips draw together in a tight frown. But she doesn’t push. Born into this life she knows better than to ask further. Her arms tighten just slightly, a subtle tell she’s not reassured.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to have dinner together tonight,” she says after a pause, voice soft. Hesitant. “Something simple. Just us.”

Dinner. Something normal couples do together. My lips curve before I can stop them. A rare, unguarded smile breaks across my face, and I don’t bother hiding it.

She blinks. Then laughs under her breath. “You do smile here too.”

“I’ve been known to, occasionally.” I chuckle, just once.

“You should do it more.” She looks up at me through her lashes. “You’ve got a good one. Dangerous, but good.”

The smile stays. God help me, I can’t make it go away. I cup her cheek, letting my thumb brush the curve of it.

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and kiss her—slow, soft, like I have all the time in the world. Like we’re not going to war tonight. Like I’m not walking out that door with blood in my heart and murder on my mind.

“Dinner, yes” I echo. “I’d like that.”

“I’ll be back,” I whisper against her lips. I kiss her then soft, tender then force myself to pull away.

She nods and doesn’t say anything more.

I force myself to let go of her and step back, immediately feeling the loss of her warmth against me. I can feel her gaze burning into my back as she watches me in silence as I head toward the elevator.

Despite every urge, I don’t look over my shoulder. I let the smile fall. Let the mask slide back into place, a steely death mask.

Yaro’s and the men are waiting for me at the elevator, eyes flicking toward the hallway and back to me. They don’t say a word and neither do I. The doors open and we step inside.

Yaro glances at me sideways, expression unreadable. “Everything good?”

I say nothing. Instead, I let the mask fully settle into place, letting the cold settle into my bones. The softness in my chest calcifies and my face hardens.