Step Bride: A Bad Boy Mob Roman(13)

I smirked, shrugging. “It’s the truth. You’re part of the family now, in more ways than one, so you have a right to know.”

“You have to be joking.”

“Wish I were, sis. But the truth is, we’re all a bunch of violent fucking criminals around here.”

I loved watching the tiny little crack in her certainty begin to spread as she realized that I wasn’t making a joke. Finally, she looked completely defeated.

“This is crazy,” she mumbled.

“Now you understand why it’s so dangerous?”

She looked up at me fiercely. “Now I understand why you’re such a jerk at least.”

I moved closer to her, touching her hair. She didn’t flinch or move away. “Come on, Nat. I had a good reason for marrying you last night, and it had nothing to do with your mother.”

“What reason?” Her lips were slightly parted.

I wanted so badly to take her then and there. She looked like she was begging for it, her lips parted, not moving away from me. I could have easily kissed her in the shadows of the old hallway and eventually dragged her into one of the hundreds of empty rooms. But for some reason, I held back. Probably because there was a staff member lurking not too far away, and I couldn’t risk word of my relationship with Natalie getting back to my father.

“Because of this new marriage,” I said, “Arturo suddenly thinks I need to settle down. I decided to marry someone in Vegas to appease him, or at least to rub the absurdity of the whole marriage sham in his face.”

“Marriage sham?” The anger began to return. “So you married me to get back at your dad?”

I shrugged, smirking at her. “Maybe, in a way.”

“This whole thing is just a coincidence,” she said softly. “And you’re a total asshole.”

“I think that about sums it up.”

“And now I’m stuck here.”

“You can leave any time you want, sis.”

“Stop calling me that.” She looked down the hall. “Where’s my room, anyway?”

“See the guy in the suit lurking over by the window?” She nodded. “Ask him. He’ll show you.”

I could see how angry she was, but she was doing a great job of holding it back.

“So what now?” she asked. “We pretend like it never happened?”

“We can’t do that,” I said, “because you’re my wife, and I intend to keep it that way.”

She screwed up her face. “It wasn’t actually for real, right? I mean, you’re worried that your dad will find out what happened in the, uh, the limo, right?”

I reached into my back pocket, my grin practically tearing a hole in her. “Here.” I held up the marriage license. One glance and her face turned white.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” she said. “No way it was for real.”

“Sorry, sis. I mean, sorry, wife. We’re married for real.”

She shook her head, pushed off from the wall, and walked away without another word. I watched her approach the staff member, and he led her away, farther into the house.

I stayed standing there, my cock absolutely rock hard, excitement swimming through my veins.

I didn’t know what it was about her. I had no clue why she got my blood up so hot, why she made me so absolutely fucking thirsty for her soaked pussy. But I loved teasing her, loved pushing her buttons, and I found that I didn’t want to stop, even if it was a very, very dangerous game.

My stepsister. My fucking wife. What a fucking wonderful mess.

As I moved to head back to my rooms, I caught a commotion back down toward my father’s study. I moved down the hall and watched Camille get hustled from the room as a few mob captains rushed in.

Frowning, I headed that way. Something bad had just happened; I could feel it right in my gut.

Natalie was still in the back of my mind as I pushed open the door and joined the meeting.





Chapter Seven: Natalie





I was living with mobsters.

Real, actual, live gang members. Violent criminals. Thugs.

The security suddenly made sense. The insane wealth made sense, too. I had no clue how they could live so openly the way they did, but I believed Lucas. I didn’t think he had been lying about anything he'd said.

Even though he was an absolute and total asshole.

Still, what were the chances of that? Of all the clubs in Vegas, and all the women, he picked the one I had gone to, and he chose me, the one person he absolutely never should have gone after and definitely shouldn’t have married.

Marriage. Part of me had known that it was real. Part of me understood that happened in Vegas. But most of me just wanted to deny it all, to pretend like the night was just one meaningless moment of total insanity and that I hadn’t really gotten married. But as soon as I saw that certificate, I knew it was real. I knew it had happened.