Page 64 of Coerced Wife
I go over and stop at the side of the bed. Staring down at the gorgeous woman sleeping between my sheets, I brush a fiery red curl from her cheek. “Sleep well,tesoro.”
I make sure the alarm is set when I leave and tell the men to be extra vigilant while I’m gone. Then I take the nondescript car with the fake license plate that one of my men parked in the street and drive to Giorgio’s place.
He waits on the steps in front of his house, smoking a cigarette. He changed into a pair of dark jeans and a leather jacket that he wears over a sweater. He flicks the cigarette into the rose bush when I pull up and jogs down the stairs. A whiff of brandy reaches me when he shiftsinto the passenger seat. Not even the smell of the smoke that clings to his clothes is enough to mask the alcohol.
Fuck.
I steer the car into the road. “You’ve been drinking.”
He watches me, grinning as he bounces his leg. “We were at your party, remember?”
“I told you to stay the fuck sober.”
He grins wider and raises his hands. “Iamsober.”
Fucking idiot.
“I thought you’d be banging Anya’s brains out tonight.”
“Keep your filthy mouth off her. Talk about her in such a disrespectful manner again, and I’ll cut out your tongue.”
He whistles. “Someone is edgy. Are you sure you’re not taking this whole wedding thing too seriously?”
“Weddings are serious.”
“To love and to hold in sickness and in health until death do you part and all that shit?”
“Exactly.”
“So she loves you now.”
I grit my teeth. “Madly.”
He only continues to look at me with that ugly grin on his face.
“What’s your problem?” I snap.
“You’ve always been like a brother to me.”
I take the interstate east, crossing over to Queens. “What is this? Some kind of nostalgic memory-lane bullshit?”
That grin never leaves his lips. I swear I’m going to slap it off his face.
“Just saying, bro.” He laughs and looks through his window. “Since Anya came into your life, we never hang out.”
“I have responsibilities.”
“Such as being a father.”
“Yeah,” I bite out, shooting him a look, but he misses the warning because he’s still staring at the view over the bay.
“Okay,” he says with a smirk I can fucking hear in his voice before bouncing his leg again.
“When areyougetting married? You could’ve had the pick of the crop by now.”
“Thanks to you, I’m meeting a cousin on my mother’s side next month.” He faces me. “You know, the one you refused? At least I have eight more years of freedom while she grows into a woman.” He chuckles. “I guess it’ll be fun breaking her in.”
I want to reach across, open his door, and kick him out of the car. Then reverse over him.