I pretend to be immersed in eating the pie served at dinner, while secretly observing my husband. He’s wearing jeans and a white dress shirt. The top two buttons are undone and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. I still find it unusual that the men here wear such casual attire. The Cosa Nostra members’ everyday clothes consist almost exclusively of suits. The only time I’ve seen Ajello’s men dressed casually was on the day of Asya’s wedding, and only because Pasha warned that no one in a suit would be allowed at the venue. I’ve seen Drago decked out in a full suit several times so far, but he typically wears just a button-down shirt and jeans.

He hasn’t said a word to me since he caught me with his phone five days ago. Mostly, he acts as if I’m not even present. Except at night.

Every evening, an hour or so after I go to sleep, he comes into my bedroom at the end of the hall and carries me back to his own. The first time, I didn’t realize it happened until his arms wrapped around my body as he pulled me against his chest. I pretended I was still asleep while sinking into the comfort of his bed and the warmth of his body. The following morning, however, I woke up in my new room.

At first, I thought I dreamed it all, but then I smelled his scent on me. I wasn’t sleeping when he showed up the following night, but I acted like I was. And in the morning, when he carried me back, I did the same. I’m not actually sure if he knows I’m faking being asleep, but he can’t expect I wouldn’t notice him carrying me around five nights in a row. Maybe he’s pretending, too.

I don’t know what to think of his actions. But one thing I do know is that keeping up this farce is becoming unbearable. I want to be able to touch him and to freely snuggle into his side. And I want us to have sex again so much that it feels like my pussy weeps with need. I could tell him the truth. Explain my reasons for accepting the marriage, even though he would probably just laugh at me. Who in their right mind marries a stranger because of the fear of being alone? No. I can’t bare myself to him like that.

Drago is nodding at whatever Filip is saying, his eyes focused on his second-in-command’s mouth. Not at the ground as I initially thought. He’s completely ignoring me sitting at his side.

Feigning indifference, I pick up my phone off the table and, pursing my lips, take a selfie. Drago doesn’t turn around. It’s as if he doesn’t give a fuck about me. Only, he does.

After I saw my pictures on his phone, I started paying more attention and noticed things I missed before. How he frequently comes into the kitchen while I’m there, asks Keva a nonsensical question, and then leaves. Each time this happens, I can feel his eyes on me while I pretend to be engrossed in whatever I’m doing at that moment. Or, whenever he stumbles upon me playing video games with Adam, he barks orders and sends him on an errand, even when it seems rather trivial. And, yesterday, when I was playing with the dogs outside, I saw my husband standing by the garage, watching me. The instant he realized I’d spotted him, he turned away and left.

I’m done being ignored.

“Hey, Filip.” I prop my chin on my hand and smile. “Can I ask for a favor?”

Both Drago and his right-hand man look at me.

“Um, sure,” Filip says, throwing a quick look at Drago whose eyes are glued to my lips. “What do you need?”

“Do you have some free time tomorrow?” I chirp.

“He doesn’t,” Drago snaps.

I tilt my head and look at him, keeping the smile plastered on my face. “I was asking Filip.”

“And I responded. What do you need him for?”

“I wanted to ask Filip to teach me to drive a car. But if he’s busy, I’ll ask someone else.” I shrug. “Is Adam available?”

“No.”

“Oh. How about—”

“He’s not available, either.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I haven’t said who.”

“Doesn’t matter. None of my men are free. Contain your sunny attitude, it won’t do any good around here.” Drago’s jaw is set in a tight line, and his nostrils are flaring.

“Why?”

He grabs the back of my chair and leans forward until his cheek brushes mine. “Because I’m the only man who’s going to bathe in your sunshine, Sienna,” he says next to my ear. “No one else.”

He pulls back and glares at me. Someone is jealous, it seems, and trying very hard not to show it.

“And are you available tomorrow?” I ask.

He clenches his jaw even more. “No.”

“Too bad. I’ll have to try to find someone else then.” I take my plate and stand up from the table. “Good night.”

The weight of Drago’s eyes on me is heavy as I make my way to the kitchen, and then again when I return and leave the dining room. Once I reach my bedroom, I take a quick shower and head to the mountain of stuff I keep on top of the dresser. There’s only one small closet in this room, and it doesn’t fit all of my clothes. I’m rummaging through the pile in search of pajamas when the door behind me bursts open.

Startled, I yelp and spin around. Drago is standing at the threshold, his eyes locked on the towel I’m clutching around myself. It’s a rather small towel. I wait until his gaze moves to my face and innocently bat my eyelashes at him. “You’re early. I’m still awake, so please come back in an hour.”

He covers the distance between us in several long steps and places his hands on the dresser, caging me. His breathing is labored and the muscles on his neck are taut. He’s angry.

I loosen my grip on the towel and let it fall to the floor, but Drago’s stare stays fixed on my face. I reach out and slowly undo a button on his shirt. And then another. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even flinch as I work through the rest. Next, I lower my hands to undo the button and zipper of his jeans, then hook my thumbs on the waistband and tug his pants, along with his boxer briefs, down, releasing his hard cock.

A low growling sound leaves his lips, but he remains still even when I lick his exposed chest. The self-restraint this man has is unmatched. Circling my arms around his neck, I lift onto my tiptoes.

“I miss you, Drago.”

With a swipe of his arm, clothes from the dresser behind me fly to the side. Drago grabs my thighs, lifts me, and slams my ass down on the cleared-off top.

Wetness pools between my legs as he slides his hands behind my knees, jerking me forward. His cock enters me in one swift thrust. I suck in a breath. Like I’ve been underwater and just broke the surface, gasping for air.

He stands perfectly still, not moving a muscle, while I revel in the sensation of his cock lodged within me. I tighten my arms and legs around him and take another deep breath. My pussy muscles contract around his thickness as it swells even more.

I look up and meet his gaze. He’s not just mad. Based on the look in his eyes, he’s consumed with fury. Leaning forward, I place a light kiss on the edge of his clenched jaw. Then one more, closer to his lips which are tightly pressed together. Other than our breathing, the ticking of a clock somewhere in the room is the only sound that breaks the silence.

I hook my feet together behind his back, but Drago remains motionless. It’s a punishment. Or that’s what he probably believes. Nine beats. Ten. He tilts his head slightly to the side and inhales. My legs are shaking. I’m going to come just from the feel of his cock inside me. Fifteen beats. Not even his hands move, they are still clutching the back of my knees. It’s a duel—his need to fuck me versus his will to have me punished. Eighteen. Nineteen.

“Drago,” I say next to his ear.

He sucks in a breath. The next second, he pulls out and slams inside of me again. And again. I let go of his neck and grip the edge of the dresser, clinging to the wooden surface as he pounds into me. Each thrust is harder, and faster.

The lights are on, so I can see anger war with satisfaction on his face as he plows into me like a madman. Breath leaves me in short bursts. He pulls my leg up with his left hand while the other slips around my nape, squeezing my hair. My whole body trembles, and I pant, staring into his lust-filled eyes. The dresser bangs against the wall behind me with each thrust of his hips. There are fifty people in this house, and I’m pretty sure every one of them can hear us. And I don’t give a damn.

“Say my name again!” Drago bites out as he keeps up his thrusts.

I tilt my chin up, lips tightly pressed together. His temporal vein is pulsing, and his muscles strain. The grip on my hair intensifies, canting my head back.

“Fucking say it, Sienna.”

He’s pounding me so hard that I probably won’t be able to walk tomorrow. There is no sign of indifference now. He’s losing it completely. I fucking love it.

“Drago!” I scream as my orgasm erupts while I’m lost in his eyes.

They look almost feral as he buries himself fully and explodes. He keeps his tight clasp on my hair and holds my gaze as his warm cum fills me.

Silence reigns again, fractured only by the sounds of our heavy breathing and the ticking clock.

 

Drago

 

I’ve been awake for almost an hour, gazing at the morning sky visible beyond the balcony door. Holding my wife tightly in my arms. She usually sleeps on her side, her face buried against my chest, but at some point during the night, she climbed on top of me. Sienna is now plastered to my chest, her arms wrapped around my torso and her legs straddling my waist.

I should get up and go find Filip so we can discuss where to obtain enough product to cover the losses suffered in the Syracuse warehouse fire, but I can’t make myself leave this bed. It is so damn good to have my little spy back in my arms.

The past few days have been a fucking nightmare filled with frustration. I tried my best to ignore her but couldn’t stay completely away. During the day, it was somewhat manageable. I kept finding stupid reasons to chance upon her. It helped quell the need to have her near, but most of the time, it led to me getting even more agitated when I found her having fun in the rec room with my men. I almost lost it when I saw her playing a video game with Adam again.

I’ve never been a jealous man. The idea of losing my shit just because some guy talked to my woman seemed idiotic.

Seemed. Past tense.

Last evening, after Sienna asked Filip to teach her to drive, I sent a text to all of my crew, letting them know that if I catch any man socializing with my wife while I’m not present, I’ll snap his neck.

Sienna stirs, her naked pussy gliding over my hard cock. When I carried her into my bedroom last night, I threw her onto the bed and fucked her again. It wasn’t enough. Not even close. Tightening my hold around her waist, I roll us over and brace myself so I don’t crush her. After sliding my free hand between our bodies, it takes less than a minute of teasing her clit to make her wet. She’s still half-asleep when I push my cock inside her. I expect her to tense from the sudden intrusion, but she just smiles and opens her legs wider, watching me with veiled eyes.

I pound into her, my thrusts hard and fast, the ferocity meant as punishment for her betrayal. When Ajello proposed this marriage deal, I suspected there was more to his plans than simply reviving our collaboration. I anticipated that she would be an informant for her don. As Keva said, I would have contrived the same if I was in Ajello’s place, so her spying didn’t feel like treachery in the beginning. I wasn’t in love with her then. But I am now. So fucking in love that I couldn’t even handle spending a single night without her in my bed.

Sliding my palm up her stomach, I drop a kiss on her shoulder. Then, I bite the sensitive skin in the hollow between her neck and collarbone. Even her scent is intoxicating. I’m drawn to her like some distant cold planet is pulled toward the sun, needing to feel her warmth. I need more of it. Each ridiculous outfit, all the sparks lighting up her vivacious eyes, and every teasing smile has pulled me deeper into madness. I should have sent her back to Cosa Nostra the moment I realized her deception, but I didn’t. I can’t imagine my life without her sunshine anymore.

I take her leg and put it over my shoulder, sinking deeper inside her. Sienna moans beneath me and grabs my forearms, her fingernails scraping my skin as her eyes bore into mine.

Her body trembles as she comes, throwing her head back in ecstasy. My little traitor. I should have finished first, denied her an orgasm, taken a small measure of revenge for what she’s doing to me, but I couldn’t. Only once she sags in bed and I’m certain she’s done, I let go of my restraint and find my own release.

My wife’s dark-brown eyes find mine, capturing me. They remind me of a cat’s—large and hypnotic, warm and so impossibly sweet. She lifts her hand as if to place it on my face, but I move away.

“Breakfast is in ten minutes.” I slip out of her and head toward the closet to get a change of clothes. “Be in front of the garage in half an hour if you want that driving lesson.”

When I turn around, Sienna is still sprawled out in the middle of the bed, my cum dripping from her pussy.

“Leave some hot water for me.” She smiles, completely ignoring my antagonistic tone.

I grip the closet door with all my strength, trying to suppress the need to go back over there and kiss that lying mouth.

“Use the shower in your room.” I slam the closet door shut and walk into the bathroom.

 

Sienna

 

He left.

I wrap my arms around myself and stare at the empty spot in the garage where Drago’s car had been parked. It’s only eight. I haven’t even gone to breakfast. I just showered and ran downstairs. When I glanced out of the window five minutes ago as I got dressed, he was speaking with Filip outside of the main garage door. I bite my lower lip in frustration and head back toward the house, dialing the don along the way. I received another “SIENNA” all-caps message on my way down here.

“It’s been ten days since your last check-in, Sienna,” he barks without preamble.

“There are too many people around here. I’ll try to be more prompt going forward.”

“Update. Now.”

“Well, we had a situation here on Friday, which left everyone feeling on edge for the rest of the day.”

“Details, Sienna. Was it something at the club?”

“Nope. The fridge broke down.”

A few beats of silence follow. “The fridge?”

“Yeah. It was after business hours, and it’s one of those large industrial types. It took hours to find—”

“I don’t give a fuck about Popov’s damn fridge!”

“But nothing happens here that’s related to Drago’s dealings. The fridge was the highlight of the entire week and—”

The line goes dead. I cringe. It looks like he’s not happy with my report. I stuff the phone into the back pocket of my jeans and resume walking toward the mansion.

People are eating in the huge dining room, their chatter can be heard from the foyer. I smile, saying good morning as I walk by the long table, and enter the kitchen. Keva and four other girls are rushing around, pulling out plates from the cupboards and filling cups with coffee on big round trays. It’s quite a feat to feed so many people three meals a day.

Keva runs over to one of the six ovens to take out a cheese pie, a traditional Serbian breakfast dish, yelling at the same time to only serve Mirko tea because he is not allowed to have coffee. One of her helpers dashes inside the kitchen to say that Beli is whining that he is still hungry; his piece of pie was apparently smaller than usual.

“You can tell that ogre that if he has an issue, he can take it up with the complaints department!” Keva shouts, slamming the oven door closed, and turns to me. “There are plates with extras on the counter. Take a few to the food-devouring horde.”

I grab the two huge, oval plates and carry them into the dining room. When I get back to the kitchen, I end up with a tray filled with coffee cups thrust into my hands. I take these out to the dining room, too, and grab a piece of the pie for myself on my way back.

When everyone finishes breakfast, there is a mile-high stack of dirty dishes in the sink, and all three dishwashers are full. I turn around, intending to ask someone to show me how to turn them on, but everyone seems busy. Peering down at the closest dishwasher, I ponder what to do. I’ve never actually turned one of these on before. At home, either the maid or Asya handled the kitchen cleanup. There are program buttons on the dishwasher door, and I know I need to choose one, but I guess I should add the dish detergent first. Is there a specific compartment for that? I don’t see one. A big bottle of liquid dish soap sits next to the sink that’s overflowing with greasy pots and pans. I unscrew the top of the bottle and pour a good amount inside the nearest machine, then repeat the same process with the other two. With that done, I select the heavy wash cycle for each and turn them on.

“Sienna!” Jelena calls from somewhere behind me. “The meat order arrived. Can you get one of the guys to bring everything in and sign the papers for the delivery guy?”

“Sure.”

I run to the dining room and usher Relja to the kitchen’s back door that’s used for freight. While he unloads the boxes from the van, I go over the order form the delivery guy handed to me. It says the shipment contains one hundred and fifty pounds of pork and two hundred pounds of chicken.

“So, this is a monthly provision?” I ask as I sign.

“Weekly,” the guy mumbles.

Weekly? That’s three hundred and fifty pounds of meat! I look up from the paper to find the delivery guy staring at my glittery red knee-high boots.

“Just like Dorothy, but more badass, yeah?” I grin and knock my heels together, twice.

He nods, his eyebrows hitting his hairline. “Yes.”

“Oliver,” Keva yells, “if Drago catches you drooling over his wife’s legs, you’ll have to consider a career change. It’ll be hard to drive with your eyes in your pocket, honey.”

The guy’s head snaps up. He grabs the form out of my hand and hightails it out the door without saying goodbye.

When Relja leaves after bringing in the boxes of meat, Keva and I are the only ones left in the kitchen.

“This is crazy,” I say and jump to sit on top of the counter next to the stove where she’s put on the kettle for tea.

“I know.” She smirks and looks at me sideways. “But you like it, am I right?”

“Yes, I like it. I like it here.”

“We like having you here, too.”

I lean my head on the fridge to my right and sigh. “Drago doesn’t.”

“He does. He just doesn’t want to admit it.” She lifts the kettle and pours the water into a chipped cup in front of her. “And you know why.”

I close my eyes. He told her. “Because I’m passing info about Drago’s business to Ajello.”

“I think it’s a bit more complicated than that, Sienna.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugs. “That’s not for me to say, dear. You’ll have to ask your husband.”

“He hasn’t been talking to me lately.”

“Can you blame him?” Keva asks, looking at me over the rim of her teacup.

“No, I guess not.” I sigh. “What’s wrong with Drago’s hearing?”

Keva’s eyes widen. “So, you’ve noticed.” It’s not a question.

“It took me a while. I figured something wasn’t right when I would ask a question, and it seemed like he didn’t hear me. But I also noticed that he didn’t appear to have a problem hearing what was being said when he spoke with his men.”

“Drago suffers from high-frequency hearing loss. It means, in most cases, he can’t perceive high-pitched sounds, or when he can, he can’t distinguish what’s said.” She sets the cup on the counter and takes my hand. “Imagine talking with someone on the phone, but the connection is bad, and you can only hear some of the words, or parts of the words. You can hear the person on the other end, but you can’t understand what they’re saying because a big part of the conversation is lost.”

“He’s reading lips to compensate, isn’t he?”

She nods.

“He’s really good.”

“Well, he’s been doing it for a very long time, Sienna.”

“How long?”

“Almost twenty years,” Keva says. “The bomb blast that destroyed his home, killed his parents and sister, did serious damage to his eardrums.”

“Is that when he got the burn scars as well?”

“Yes.”

I take a deep breath and bite the inside of my cheek. “Can he hear me? When I speak?”

Keva’s hand squeezes mine. “Your voice is rather high, sweetheart. He can hear you, but for Drago, it probably all sounds like mumbling. He’d have a hard time understanding most of what you say without lipreading. But he likely can hear very clearly when you say his name because there are no high-pitched consonants in it.”

“Why hasn’t he told me?”

“It isn’t exactly common knowledge. You know how the Mafia world works, Sienna. People could use that information against him, especially during important meetings.”

“He thinks I would tell the don,” I choke out.

“He does.”

I gape at her. How can he think I would share something that private? “Don’t tell Drago I know. Please.”

“Why?”

“Just don’t.”

“One of these days, I’m going to sit you two down and make you fucking talk to each other.” She shakes her head and reaches for her cup, but then suddenly yelps. “Jebem ti lebac!”

I follow her gaze and my eyes land on the dishwashers on the other side of the kitchen. Sudsy foam is pouring out from around the doors. I jump down off the counter and rush after Keva who’s running toward the chaos. When I reach her, she’s already stopped all three machines and is in the process of opening the closest one. A stream of white bubbles bursts out of the appliance even before the door is fully down.

“Jesus!” she shouts, looking at the mess that doubles when she opens the second dishwasher. “What on earth happened here? Call the girls and get some rags!”

“Um . . . I think it’s my fault,” I mumble as I open the drawer to get the kitchen towels.

 

Drago

 

I park my car and walk inside the warehouse where we stored the last weapons shipment. Filip and two security guards are standing by a pile of crates, while a third guard is a few feet away, holding a man at gunpoint.

“Is that Bogdan’s guy you caught snooping around?” I ask.

“Yes.” Filip nods. “He was messing with the lock on the back door. There was someone else with him, but he took off. Adam went after the guy.”

I take out my gun and turn toward the would-be saboteur. “Planning on destroying another one of my buildings?”

The man shakes his head and whimpers. I aim at his left thigh and pull the trigger. Clutching his leg, he falls to his side. “Let’s try again. What were you doing here?” I ask.

“Checking the security,” he wails.

“So the others can come tonight and torch it? Nice.” I crouch in front of him. “I know that Bogdan has a substantial shipment coming in next week. I need the date, the route, and the vehicle description. And while we’re at it, I need the locations of the two warehouses he uses for storage.”

“I don’t know any of that.”

I press the barrel of my gun to his right thigh and fire. The man screams, rolling to his other side, gripping his newly wounded leg. I grab his shoulder and yank him back to face me.

“Did this help you with your knowledge?” I ask. “Or do you need additional incentive?”

The guy mumbles something that sounds like an address. I throw a look over my shoulder and see Filip typing into his phone. “Locations?”

“Yes.” He nods.

“Perfect.” I refocus back on the Romanian guy. “When is this shipment arriving?”

“Tuesday, early morning.”

“Good. Now, the truck route.”

“I don’t know. I swear!”

“Who does?”

“Bogdan and his logistics guy. Mircea.”

“The short dude with the glasses who always follows Bogdan around?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” I rise, shoot the guy in the head, and turn to my second-in-command. “Is Bogdan still MIA?”

“No one has seen him for weeks. Iliya says his informants believe Bogdan went back to Romania.”

I drum my fingers on the wooden surface of a crate. We’ve been trying to locate the son of a bitch, but no one has set eyes on him in a while. I’ve known the Romanian leader for years, and he would never leave the country when he has a shipment coming.

“He’s not in Romania,” I say and nod toward the body. “Throw this one in the fridge, I’ll need him next week. Have Adam put a tail on Mircea, but don’t touch him for now. I also need our men to check out the locations the dead guy gave us, but make sure they aren’t seen.”

“All right. What else?”

“Bogdan’s trucks are arriving on Tuesday morning, giving us four days to get ready. We’ll set up three teams. One team will intercept the truck. The other two will go to the storage locations on Monday night and wait. When we have the truck, they can set those shitholes ablaze.”

“Retaliating against Bogdan by stealing his shipment and blowing up his warehouses is one thing, but what are we going to do with the extra weapons?”

“I’ll call Belov and see if Bratva wants more guns. That money will cover our losses from Syracuse.”

Filip watches me, dragging his hand through his hair. “Bogdan will go ballistic, Drago.”

“Yes, he will.”

“Should we up the security on the mansion?”

“Double it. I’ll go get Tara before this all goes down. I want her at the house until this shit blows over.”

“She won’t like it.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” I bark. The phone in my pocket vibrates. “Do we have any small pistols somewhere?”

“How small?”

“Really small. Get me a pink one, if possible.” My phone vibrates with another notification. “I’m going to teach Sienna how to shoot. Just in case.”

Filip’s eyes nearly bulge out of his sockets. “Is that . . . wise?”

“Don’t let her smiles and silly clothes fool you, Filip. There’s much more than meets the eye where my wife is concerned. Honestly, I’d be surprised if she doesn’t already know how to fire a gun.”

I leave my second-in-command standing with a confused expression on his face and exit the warehouse. When I get behind the wheel, I take out my phone to check the messages. There are two, both from Keva. The first is a photo of my wife crouching in a pool of white foam, collecting it into a bucket with a soup ladle. She’s wearing sparkling red high-heeled boots with a matching bow on her head. The second is a text, letting me know that my wife poured liquid soap into the dishwashers.

I open the photo again, zooming in on Sienna’s face. Her eyes are huge and intent on what she’s doing, and if I paid attention only to them, I’d assume she’s panicking. But her lips are drawn into a huge smile. This woman is such a contradiction.

I close the image and type out a message.

17:10 Drago: Ask my wife if she knows how to shoot a gun.

The reply arrives less than a minute later.

17:11 Keva: Sienna? What’s wrong with you? Of course she doesn’t.

17:12 Drago: Ask her.

The phone vibrates with a new text.

17:14 Keva: Yes. God help us.

I stare at the message for a few moments, then burst out laughing.

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