I Married a Mob Boss

by Shandi Boyes

  The women stare at me, bitter and shocked when Rico ignores their lewd propositioning as he guides me into the lobby of my building. The way he moves with such grace and animal arrogance, his allure demands the attention of every pair of eyes milling in the lobby of my apartment building, both male and female.

  Snubbing the inquisitive stares rapt on him, Rico steers me into the elevator. The two men who have been shadowing us since we left my classroom move to the stairwell without a peep needing to be spilled from Rico’s lips. Our ride in the elevator is made in silence, but a vibrant buzzing sensation infuses the air surrounding us.

  When the elevator dings open on my floor, Rico directs me down the corridor without stopping to gather his bearings. With his splayed hand hovering near the curve of my lower back the past five minutes, my body is achingly aware of the loss of his contact when he delves his hand into the breast pocket of his suit to produce a freshly cut key.

  Shoving the key into the front door of my apartment, Rico turns his gaze to me. “You have twenty minutes to pack.”

  “How did you get a key to my apartment?”

  He removes the freshly cut key from the lock and places it back into his pocket. "Nineteen minutes now, Kitten," he advises, rudely ignoring my interrogation. “Do you want to lose another minute?”

  My body instinctively jumps to his command before my mind has time to object. Following the same routine I do every day, I gather the mail off the floor, place it on the entranceway table, and hit my answering machine button. While pacing into my bedroom, the mature voice of my dad sounds down the line.

  “Blaire! You won’t believe it. My raffles paid off. Your momma and I hit the jackpot! An all-expenses paid holiday to Europe! Three months! Can you believe it?”

  I roll my eyes. “No, I can’t, and neither should you, Dad,” I mutter under my breath.

  “The only catch is we leave tomorrow. Your mother’s gone crazy. She’ll be lucky I don’t take her out back and shoot her before we leave. Anyway, darling, with your school schedule and our windfall, we won’t see you before we leave.”

  A smile stretches across my face when my mom's voice chimes into the background. "Don't forget to tell her about the postcards, Norm."

  “Postcards. Yes, yes, I’ll tell her,” my dad says. “We’ll send you and your class postcards from each location we visit. We thought they could mark them on the big world map you have in your classroom.”

  Heat creeps across my chest at the same time a stabbing pain hits my heart. My class last year spent the three months before summer vacation discussing which regions of the world we would like to visit the most. Surprisingly, the chosen locations varied significantly.

  “Alright, darling, I have to go and help your mother pack before she leaves without me. Talk soon, sweetie. Bye,” my dad says before disconnecting the call.

  My heart slithers into my gut. How long will it be until I see my parents again? Is this arrangement with Rico just temporary or permanent? Will I ever see my friends and family again?

  “You will see them again, Kitten. I promise.”

  I jump, startled. Rico’s movements are so agile I didn’t notice him standing in the doorway of my room. Pushing off the doorjamb, he paces closer to me. I watch him cross the room, riveted just by the way he walks. Graceful, yet authoritative.

  “What can I do to help?” His tone is still commanding, but not as gruff as it usually is.

  You’d think my first thoughts would be to plead for my release, but for some strange reason, I hand him my empty cosmetics bag and point to the small washroom located next to the entranceway of my apartment.

  “Anything marked with a B is mine.”

  Rico smiles a lazy grin that surges my pulse to the lower half of my body before spinning on his heels and ambling to the bathroom. Pretending I can’t feel an odd pain twisting my heart, I grab a handful of my clothing off the overflowing racks in my closet and pace to my suitcase sitting in the middle of my bed. My brisk strides slow when the answering machine switches on, announcing it's about to record a new message.

  Dumping my clothing into my open suitcase, I lean on the doorjamb of my room just as the deep voice of Colt barrels out of the answering machine speakers.

  “Still trying to work out where you placed your new tattoo, baby girl. I haven’t stopped thinking about it all weekend. Might need a private, in-depth search, starting at the cute little dip you have in your collarbone. . .”

  The remainder of Colt’s message is lost when the answering machine sails across the room and smashes into a wall. It shatters into dozens of tiny pieces while also leaving a dent in the drywall of my living room.

  With my heart hammering my ribs, I drift my eyes from the mangled remains of my answering machine to my entranceway table. Rico stares straight at me, unwavering and calm, a complete contradiction to the maniac who just demolished my answering machine in a rage of jealousy.

  “What?” he asks, seemingly unaffected by my confounded stare.

  When a trace of a smirk forms on his plump lips, the ache between my thighs has me grateful I’m leaning against a wall. Is it wrong of me to say his aggressive nature turns me on? Even having no recollection of our time together in Vegas, I know it would have been better than anything I’ve ever experienced. You can’t have his arrogance without skills to back it up, and just the way he holds himself reveals he’d be exceptional in bed. I bet he has the type of control that would make even the most rational woman go wild to unleash it. Wild enough they would marry him in a matter of hours.

  My attention snaps back to the present when Rico mutters, “We only have fifteen minutes, Kitten, nowhere near enough time to work through your fiendish thoughts.”

  My cheeks heat from his bold words as my brows scrunch. I’m in the process of packing my bags as I’m being forced to leave my hometown against my will, yet I’m getting hot and bothered from the wicked smirk of a man who is the equivalent of a stranger to me.

  Grumbling to myself about my newfound stupidity, I set back to work on packing my belongings. I’ve always been the cautious, safeguarded member of my inner circle, but one glance into his dark gaze has me throwing caution to the wind. Even knowing I shouldn’t be, I'm fascinated by him. I should have heeded my grandmother’s advice. Vegas made me lose my mind.

  Ten minutes later, I hand my overflowing suitcase to a burly-looking man standing on the stoop of my door. When he exits my apartment, I scribble a quick note to Lacey begging for her not to panic and that I'll call her as soon as possible.

  After a final glance around the apartment I've lived in for the past two years, I shadow Rico outside. The instant I step onto the tiled ground, my regular breathing pattern turns into ragged pants. From the corner of my eye, I spot Colt emerging from his ground floor apartment. Sensing my snooping stare, he cranks his neck and locks his eyes with mine. My heart beats triple time when he smiles a roguish grin before he hotfoots it to the lobby.

  I stop walking, muted and in fear. “I forgot something,” I stammer out, saying any excuse I can to stop Colt and Rico meeting.

  With Rico’s overreaction to Colt’s playful message on my answering machine, I don’t think a face-to-face meeting would come highly recommended. And considering there's no other viable exit from our building than to cross the lobby, I need to delay our departure.

  “We need to go, Kitten. My men will collect anything you need later.” Rico places his hand on my lower back and guides me into the open elevator two men are guarding.

  Just like our first ride together, this one is infused with a shocking current—it isn’t only filled with lust. I chew on my nails and fidget on the spot. My squirms make it look like I’m one of my students busting to use the bathroom. When the elevator doors ding open, my eyes scan the room. I breathe a sigh of relief when Colt is nowhere to be seen.

  My thankfulness is short-lived.

  An unexpected squeal parts my lips when a set of large arms wrap around my waist and
hoist me off the ground, scaring the living beejeebus out of me. Not just from Colt's sudden grabbing, but from the livid glare that sparked in Rico's eyes the instant I was yanked away from him.

  “Ready for round two, baby girl,” Colt croons into my ear.

  The temperature in the lobby becomes stifling when a deep, cavernous growl shreds through my ears. Like he can sense he's in imminent danger, Colt places me back onto my feet and turns his eyes in the direction of the loud growl. Rico glares at him, veins pumping, nostrils flaring. His eyes are black, haunted, and look like they could kill a man with only a stare.

  Aiming to tame the beast, I stand next to Rico and sling my shaking arm around his waist. I stop, frozen, held captive by a sudden flashback. . .

  Rico stares at me with blazing eyes, his attitude laidback, his smile lazy. “My beautiful Kitten. My light in a world full of darkness.”

  I roll over and balance my chin on his sweat-slicked chest. “Always. You’ll not spend one more day living in blackness. Not while I’m by your side. . .”

  Pain claws at my chest, leaving my heart open and exposed for all to see. That was one of the most beautiful memories I’ve ever had. Not just because of the words spoken, but also from the loving gleam brightening Rico’s dark gaze. He looked peaceful, and if I’m not mistaken, happy.

  I snap back to reality when Rico’s pulse surges through my arm wrapped around his waist. Pretending my spur-of-the-moment memory had no effect, I lock my eyes with Colt.

  “Marshall, this is my. . . husband, Rico,” I introduce, my words as uneasy as my facial expression.

  Colt’s brows become lost in his hairline. I don’t know if his shock originates from me calling him Marshall or from my declaration that Rico is my husband.

  “Rico, this is a friend of mine, Co. . . ah. . . Marshall.”

  A beading of sweat forms on my top brow when the two men undertake a sweat-producing showdown. Colt’s face is a mix of confused and amused. Rico’s is nothing but blatant fury.

  My heart recommences beating when Colt smiles hesitantly before offering his hand to Rico to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rico. I’d love to hear how you swooped in and stole Ravenshoe’s most valuable asset.” Colt’s tone overflows with egotism. “As far as I was aware, baby girl was still on the market last week.”

  Rico growls. I’m not talking a slight rumble. I’m talking a full, pussy-quaking growl.

  “I can assure you, Kitten was not on the market last week.” His gaze is as dangerous as his deep tone. “Unless this market you're referring to is my bed. Because that's where she was. For hours.”

  My eyes bounce between Rico and Colt, beyond shocked two ridiculously handsome specimens are undertaking a pissing contest right in front of me—let alone over me.

  The belligerent expression on Colt’s face vanishes the instant Rico accepts his offer of a handshake. For every second that passes, the bronze coloring of Colt’s face decreases, as does the size of his pupils. When Colt’s hand turns so white it looks like his fingers are about to drop off, I yank Rico’s hand away from Colt.

  "We really must go.”

  I attempt to drag Rico towards the entrance doors. My efforts are fruitless. His stance is so stable, a crane wouldn't budge him.

  I peer up into Rico’s stern gaze. “Come on, honey, we wouldn’t want to miss our flight.”

  Colt’s eyes snap to mine. “Flight? Where are you going?”

  The furious pace of Rico’s pulse surging through his body wallops my hand when Colt takes a step closer to me.

  “What’s going on, Blaire? Are you okay? Are you safe?” He whispers his last question.

  My head rockets to Rico when he sneers, “She has never been safer, Colt.” He spits out Colt’s name like venom. “I can’t make the same guarantee about you.”

  Spinning on his heels, Rico walks towards the double doors of my apartment building. His rough yank on my arm ensures I fall instep beside him. I briskly shake my head when Colt attempts to follow us out of the lobby. His exchange with Rico has already gained him the devoted attention of two of the men who have been flanking Rico and me the past forty minutes. I don't want the spotlight shone on him any more than it already is.

  “I’m fine, Colt. I’ll be back in a couple of weeks. Look after Lacey for me,” I manage to squeak out before Rico’s fast speed has us hitting the sidewalk in under five seconds.

  The two women who were roaming their gazes over Rico earlier hover in close the instant we step onto the cracked concrete sidewalk. I run my unclutched hand down the front of my blouse when their malicious words insult my already faltering composure.

  “If you ever want a real woman, sugar, look me up.”

  "I thought trannie dressing was the latest fad, not grannie dressing."

  “Bag it before you shag it, honey. Her head, not your cock.”

  Rico opens the back door of the Escalade and gestures for me to enter. When I slide across the cold leather seats, he turns his narrowed gaze to the gentleman manning the driver's door.

  "Deal with them," he requests before sliding into the car next to me and slamming the door shut.

  My heart rate climbs into dangerous territory when the man in the suit approaches the double doors of my building. I try to force words out of my mouth, but my fear has rendered me speechless. The mad beat of my heart simmers to a slow trot as Rico’s goon stops upon reaching the two women who just insulted me. I suck in a grateful breath. I thought he was going after Colt.

  With his hands clenched at his side, the man holds a conversation with the two women. Even though he's only speaking, the more he interacts with them, the more their expressions change from playful to scared.

  After a few more silent words, the man in the suit gestures his head to the Escalade. My eyes dart between the two scantily clad women approaching the back-passenger side window Rico is sliding down. With my heart in my throat, I tilt my head to the side and peer out the window.

  “We’re sorry if our words caused you any harm. We were only teasing,” the blonde wearing a hot pink sequin top says.

  Rico’s furious growl rumbles through my chest.

  “But we shouldn’t have teased you. What we said was wrong and disrespectful, and we’re very sorry.” The brunette words fire off her tongue before they have a chance to be fully developed.

  Several seconds pass in uncomfortable silence before Rico’s deep voice breaks the quiet. “Do you accept their apology, Kitten? Or should they be served a more severe punishment for their malicious jealousy?”

  Two pairs of panicked eyes snap to mine, their expressions spooked and frozen. They sigh loudly in sync when I shakily say, “I accept their apology.”

  With a wave of Rico's hand, the women are removed from the side of the Escalade. When the vehicle lurches into the dense flow of traffic that always impedes the streets of Ravenshoe, I glance back to my building. A pair of concerned green eyes reflects back at me.

  “I’m fine,” I mouth to Colt.

  My words don't seem to reassure him, but they are all I have to offer.

  Shocked—not only at the events that just transpired, but the entirety of my day—I keep my eyes planted on the scenery whizzing by my window for the next ten minutes. It feels like I’ve emerged into a parallel universe. Everything looks identical, but somehow, it's all different.

  My attention shifts from scenery gazing when Rico’s low-timbre voice jingles through my ears. “Stop here,” he demands to the driver.

  I scan my eyes over the building we’ve pulled in front of. It's a nightclub Lacey and I have frequented numerous times the past year called The Dungeon. It's owned by the same gentleman who is the landlord of my apartment building, Mr. Isaac Holt.

  After scribbling a saying onto a blank square of cardboard, Rico swings open the back passenger door of the Escalade and walks towards a flashy-looking sedan parked at the side of the club. He twists his neck to the right before cranking it to the left. Happy he hasn't
caught the attention of any curious eyes, he slips the card under the windshield of the sedan before walking back to the Escalade and curling inside.

  "Who was the note for?" I ask, incapable of harnessing my curiosity.

  Rico turns his dark eyes to me before he mutters, “My sister, Isabelle.”

  Chapter 8

  “Your sister lives in Ravenshoe?”

  Rico presses his index finger to my lips before he does a single nod of his head.

  “How did your sister leave your family without any. . . repercussions?” I ask through his finger zapping my lips. I manage to keep my voice calm even though my composure is anything but.

  When Rico lifts his eyes to the rearview mirror, I follow his gaze. The driver doesn’t hide the fact he's eyeballing us. I wouldn’t be surprised if we veered off the road, considering his dark gaze is paying more attention to the rearview mirror than the heavy flow of traffic surrounding us.

  A startled squeal rolls up my chest when Rico seizes my wrist and drags me across the dark leather seat. His endeavor of bridging the gap between us doesn't stop until I'm straddled in his lap. My eyes widen when his sudden movements cause the thickness in his trousers to brush the heat between my legs. I don't know if he's aroused, but try as I may, I can't ignore the…umm…girth of his… umm…penis. Grow up, Blaire! You sound like one of your students!

  Penis, penis, penis, I chant to myself as I struggle to settle the erratic beat of my heart. Once I’ve gained a small sense of composure, I drop my eyes to Rico. He’s staring straight at me, eyes blazing, heart thumping.