Owned by the mafia boss

LIANA

A kiss woke me from sleep.

The patch of heat burned high on my cheek, and I smiled stupidly. Blankets weighed me down as I sought my husband’s warmth, my fingers brushing a cold surface. Air hissed into my nostrils through plastic tubes that tickled. My eyes cracked open.

Too bright.

I shut them. “Vinny?”

“Right here.” He clutched my heavy hand. “How are you feeling?”

The catch in his voice staggered my heart.

I took in the intense white blanketing my sheets, ceiling, and walls.

What the hell?

A violent memory clawed my head, and a knife seemed to saw into my hip. I craned my neck, but the movement pulled at sore muscles. I winced, patting the fabric constricting me. Bandages wrapped my torso.

“You were shot, honey.”

A numb shock ricocheted down my spine. “I was?”

“Yeah.”

“Where-why?” I blinked, sifting through blurred images. “I don’t remember.”

“Killian got you. He’s dead.”

Vinn’s jaw clenched. He sat beside me in a hospital chair, wearing a wrinkled gray T-shirt and gym shorts. He seemed wound like a steel spring, his eyes glassy and distant. His hands clasped mine, which curled over something jagged. He stroked me over and over.

“Are you okay?” I coughed.

A miserable smile broke through his melancholy. “You scared me, Liana.”

“I’m sorry.”

He let out a deep, shuddering breath. “Now I know what it’s like on the other side of the curtain.”

“Vinn, it’s all right. I’m alive, aren’t I? It doesn’t-hurt that bad.”

He softened. “Li, the doctor said you’re pregnant.”

Shocked wedged the words in my throat. I opened and closed my mouth as a warm glow moved through me.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

I fidgeted with the sheets, struggling to contain my grin. “And the baby’s okay?”

“So far.”

A cry of relief broke from my lips. My hands tingled as though with new life.

“Michael told me a few things,” he said, smiling broadly. “Like the fact you’ve had our kids’ names picked since you were thirteen.”

Nice one, Mike.

My cheeks flushed. “Of course he did.”

“So, it’s true.”

“Josh, Chris, and Vincent.”

A secretive grin staggered across his face. “Three boys, huh?”

“I didn’t think we’d have any girls-why in God’s name am I telling you this? It’s embarrassing.” My mind careened as I struggled to grasp a single thought.

“Your inhibitions are lowered at the moment.”

“Taking advantage of a gunshot victim should be beneath you.”

He said nothing, but his smirk was enough of a response. “Let’s get back to my questions.”

“I plead the fifth. Call my attorney.”

He leaned forward. “There was never anyone else.”

I nodded, sighing.

“You lied to me. Why?”

His hushed voice filled me with a wild hope.

I met his widened gaze, eyes welling.

“Because I wanted you so much. Because putting myself out there for you was terrifying. You would never, ever feel the same about me. You would never love me.”

An understanding seemed to dawn over Vinn, blowing away the storm clouds that’d darkened his mood.

“You love me?”

“Yes,” I murmured, marveling at how easy it was to tell the truth. “Since I was little. I named all my imaginary boyfriends after you. I pictured you every time I thought about dating or marriage, and it drove me crazy that you were always going to be with someone else.

You were there when my parents died. You turned the worst day of my life into something special, and I loved you for that. I loved you before I understood what it was. I could never stay away from you or get you out of my mind.”

Vinn rubbed his forehead, his frown deepening. He was the opposite of composed, red-faced, strung-out, on the verge of exploding. He nudged open my palm.

I relaxed my hand, revealing the seashell necklace. My stomach dropped with the weight of Vinn’s torment, and my lips parted with a broken whisper.

“I’m so sorry. I wanted you to remember.”

His tortured gaze pinned me to the bed. “I do now.”

“I took the shell to a jeweler, and he drilled a hole and put in a cheap string. And I never removed it. Not once. Not even in the shower. When the silver tarnished, I replaced it with gold. I was that obsessed with you.”

“I get it. I didn’t at first, but I think I understand.” He fixed me with a potent stare. “I’m not that man anymore, honey.”

“I-I know. It was stupid.”

“I still love you. That never changed. Not for one second. No matter what happens, that will never change. I love you. I always have.” He cupped my face, gliding his thumb across my cheek. “I thought that was obvious.”

My throat thickened, and I lost him behind a sheen of tears. “You’re not mad?”

“No. I’m the happiest asshole who’s ever lived.” He paused, grinning. “You’re carrying my kid, so that’s that. You’re stuck with me.”

He kissed me.

I burst into happy tears.

TWO WEEKS LATER, I limped into Vinn’s car.

He squeezed my hand as I hissed through every pothole home. I shut my eyes through the abnormally long drive, gripping Vinn’s palm as we snaked over roads.

A salty scent breezed inside, and then I paid attention to my surroundings. We’d arrived at a colonial house overlooking a misty beach. My jaw dropped as Vinn rolled into the driveway nowhere near Boston.

I gripped the door handle. “Where are we?”

Vinn parked the car. “Your favorite place.”

“Salisbury Beach?” I laughed, ignoring the ache in my side. “You’re laying it on thick.”

“We’re staying here for a while.”

Excruciating pain had marked my hospital visit. I’d refused everything but over the counter meds, determined not to let an opiate touch the baby.

Michael had visited often. It appeared they’d set their feud aside in the face of my difficulties. Vinn still shouted him down when he suggested that I recuperate at his mansion. Carmela had yanked a red-faced Michael out of the room before they started World War Three across my bed.

The timeline of my pregnancy made it obvious that Vinn hadn’t betrayed his best friend. Michael wasn’t thrilled about being lied to, but at least he didn’t hate Vinn for something he’d never done.

Vinn left the car, lugging in two enormous suitcases before he helped me across the green lawn and up the wraparound porch, into the house furnished with quaint furniture.Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

“I asked Carmela to decorate. I hope you don’t mind.” Vinn wheeled me into a cozy living room.

I dropped into the couch. “Isn’t this a rental?”

“I bought it.”

“What?”

“Yeah. The doctor was very clear. You need rest, and this is the perfect place.” Vinn disappeared to the kitchen and returned with a tall glass of water.

“There are photos of us!”

Ignoring Vinn’s protest, I limped toward the fireplace and grabbed the gilded frame I’d kept on my desk. My gaze swam as I fingered our cheerful faces, overcome with a swell of grief and happiness.

Vinn set the cup down, hooking his head over my shoulder. “I thought this would be a nice vacation home. For us and the kid.”

My lungs tightened. I crashed into his chest. I sank my fingers into his shirt and cried, purging every dark feeling that’d plagued me since we’d been separated.

Vinn’s big hand caressed my back. He stroked my hair, but I couldn’t stop crying.

It wasn’t about the house.

Or the gunshot.

It had nothing to do with him, or his fight with Michael, the baby, or the fact my life had been flipped upside-down.

It was hope.

It had died and been re-kindled so many times. We’d be together one day. He would love me. Life was so fucking cruel. I’d looked in all the wrong places. I’d suffered so needlessly when all I had to say were three words.

He would’ve said it back.

He loved me, too.