Reluctant Bride

by Sam Crescent

  “Not today. I’m all yours,” he simply said, and for some reason, that made her heart race. “Besides, I have a surprise for you.”

  “Oh?” Eve was now intrigued.

  Roman began filling the enormous, jacuzzi-sized bathtub with water. Once it was filled, he got in. “Come here, wife.”

  Whatever shyness Eve had possessed the day before, she shed it off like dead snakeskin. With Roman, she had nothing to hide. She joined him in the tub. While there was plenty of space, she chose to straddle his lap. Eve playfully gave his dick a squeeze, making him groan.

  “Don’t be naughty, wife,” he chided. “Or you’ll tempt me into fucking you.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she said.

  “You’re sore. I need to let you recover.” Roman kissed her brow. He reached for the shampoo dispenser. “Turn around. I’ll do your hair.”

  She inhaled the familiar fruity-vanilla scent of her favorite shampoo. “That’s my shampoo.”

  Eve soon moaned as he combed his fingers through her hair. He was surprisingly good at this.

  “I wanted you to feel at home, so I asked your mother for help,” Roman said. “Your belongings have also been transferred from your old home to your new one.”

  Eve was rendered speechless. Roman was nothing like what she expected. How could a mafia boss with such a black reputation also be sweet and thoughtful in private?

  “Does that information scare you?” he asked. Roman paused from his task.

  “Why would it? It pleases me, knowing you thought about the little details.”

  After Roman was done with her hair, he moved to soaping her body. She couldn’t sit still with Roman touching her. Eve squirmed and giggled. They ended up spending a lot of time in the bathroom. By the time they were done, Eve saw it was almost eleven. She put on a white dress. Eve half expected Roman to dress in one of his suits, but he picked a plain white shirt and faded jeans instead.

  She eyed him critically. “I like seeing you in this casual look.”

  Roman smiled at her. Taking her hand, Roman led her out of the bedroom.

  “Before I give you a tour of the house, let’s eat first,” he said.

  “I am famished,” she agreed.

  They went downstairs. Eve was treated to the sight of the gorgeous kitchen. It came with state-of-the-art appliances. An elderly woman in her sixties was at the stove. Roman introduced her.

  “Eve, meet Ada, my housekeeper. She’s served my family since my father’s time. Ada’s been looking after me a long time.”

  Eve didn’t miss the affection in Roman’s voice. Ada turned around, wiping her hands on her apron. She seemed surprised Eve came forward and gave her a hug.

  “It’s wonderful to meet you, Ada. I’ll also be in your care.”

  The old woman beamed at her, then turned to Roman. “I like this one. I’m sure we’ll get along very well, Eve.”

  Ada served them pistachio-filled cornetto. Eve had coffee latte with hers and Roman took two espressos. Eve moaned as she bit into the flaky pastry.

  “Oh, Ada. This is wonderful. You have to teach me how to bake them next time.”

  Ada chuckled. “My pleasure. It’s nice to see someone who appreciates my cooking.”

  “Hey, I resent that,” Roman commented.

  Once they finished breakfast, Roman began showing her around the massive house.

  “There are so many rooms,” Eve exclaimed. They passed by a second living room that contained a grand piano. “Can we really fill them all?”

  “With time,” Roman agreed. He seemed excited as he ushered her to the room at the end of the corridor.

  “What are you going to show me now?” Eve asked.

  “Your surprise.” Roman grabbed her hand. They stood in front of a door. There was a sign on it.

  “Eve’s Studio?” she read out loud. Her heart thumped wildly as Roman turned the knob. She gasped. The room was an artist’s dream come alive. It had big windows that let plenty of light in. Canvases, shelves of paint and supplies. It even had a tiny reading nook in the corner where Eve could take a break and enjoy a good book.

  “Do you like it?” Roman seemed nervous for some reason, and that made her smile. He reminded her of an anxious schoolboy who just presented his first love with a gift.

  Eve threw herself at him in answer and he easily caught her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, then kissed him on the mouth. She closed her eyes, enjoying how he naturally took control. He clasped the back of her neck, sucking down on her lower lip. Eve could feel the tent in his pants and her nipples tightening. Roman pulled away, looking pleased.

  “When did you have time to do all this?” she asked. She broke away from him so she could explore the amazing room. Her art studio, she reminded herself.

  “I asked for your mother’s opinion. I told her I wanted to get you a wedding gift, one that would mean something to you.”

  Tears hovered in her eyes. She didn’t realize how much her mother actually noticed. Maria Russo cared more than she let on.

  “I’ve got to thank her one of these days,” she said, swiping the tears from her eyes. “I really appreciate this, Roman.”

  He joined her and reached out for her hand. Roman planted a kiss on it. Eve became all warm and tingly inside. “Anything for my wife.” Roman paused, as if considering his next words carefully. “When your father and I came to this arrangement, I didn’t know anything about you. All I had was the information your father and mother had given me.”

  “Oh, I can’t wait to hear what they said,” Eve mumbled.

  “Franco said told me to be cautious, that you needed a firm hand. Your mother, on the other hand, said you were strong-willed. Fiercely independent.”

  She blinked. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

  “No.” He gathered her in his arms.

  “Were you disappointed when you finally met me?” Eve was teasing him and he knew it. Still, he placated her with a soft and tender kiss that seemed to go on forever. She didn’t mind. She could stay in Roman’s warm arms and in this wonderful haven he created for her forever.

  “Silly, wife. You know the answer to that,” he said, releasing her from the kiss.

  Chapter Seven

  Eve’s ringtone went off even before the sun came up. She groaned, pawing at her phone, which she usually left under her pillow. She put it on silent mode, then glanced at Roman. Her husband stirred, his arms still tightly wound around her nude body. He hadn’t woken. What a relief.

  A month had passed since their wedding. Four well-spent weeks of getting to know each other better and familiarizing herself with how Roman operated. Roman never once treated her like a shadow. He reassured her would always be his partner and his equal. Unlike her parents, Roman wasn’t the dictator of their relationship. He actually listened and valued her input. Roman hadn’t disapproved of her art either and even renovated one section of the house to use as her personal studio.

  Her phone vibrated in her hand. Eve didn’t want to pry herself from her husband, but she saw the name flashing across her phone screen. Her mother. Maria Russo wouldn’t call her at such an ungodly hour without good reason.

  “Sorry, baby. This will just be quick,” she murmured to her sleeping husband.

  She untangled herself from him and entered the bathroom. Eve closed the door behind her and sat on the edge of their massive tub. She phoned her mother.

  “Eve, thank God.” Her mother sounded rattled, so unlike herself.

  Fear gripped her heart like a vise. “Mom, what’s wrong?” she immediately asked.

  “Your father’s at St. Mary’s. He’s been shot in the chest while he was coming home from a friend’s house.”

  She sucked in a breath. Eve curled her fingers against her bare thigh, listening.

  “He’s in the ICU right now. God, Eve. I don’t know what to do. I know he’s been hurt plenty of times in the past, but he’s no longer young. Lucille’s gone and how
your father’s in the hospital. What if it’ll be you next?” Her mother’s last words dropped in a terrified whisper.

  “Is the Family with you right now?” she asked. Eve needed to keep her shit together but hearing her mother like this scared her.

  “Your uncle Giovanni’s with me,” she said, referring to her father’s older brother and a trusted member of his inner council.

  “Okay, stay put. I’m on my way there.”

  “No. Stay where you are, Eve. You’re safer in Roman’s estate.”

  Her mother didn’t need to say anything further. Eve knew her better than anyone. She didn’t just want Eve there, she wanted her solid presence. Even if they weren’t close, they only had each other left. Other family members didn’t count.

  “I’ll see you soon, Mother,” she said, ending the call.

  She looked up, noticing the bathroom door was open. Roman leaned against the doorway. Damn him for looking so good naked and with his hair all mussed up. Had he heard everything?

  “I need to see my mom,” she said, wondering if he’d let her go.

  Her husband was extremely protective of her and never let her go anywhere without bodyguards. Eve once resented being followed when she was a teenager. She’d only been married to Roman for thirty days and there had already been an attempt at their lives while they were leaving the opera. Eve saw the necessity for extra protection.

  “I just received a call from your uncle Giovanni,” he said. “We’ll go together.”

  She blinked. Eve leaped at him. Roman easily caught her as she hugged him tight.

  “Thank you. Wait. What about your meeting with Lachlan?” she asked, referring to the head of the Irish mob in the city.

  “I’ll reschedule. Lachlan will understand. He knows how important family is.” Roman pressed a kiss to her mouth. “Let’s get ready quickly so we can head right away to St. Mary’s. Your mother doesn’t need to worry. I’ll make sure no one will harm a single hair on my wife’s head.”

  Despite the tense situation, she managed to smile at him. “I know.”

  ****

  Eve couldn’t sit still throughout the drive to the hospital. Roman glanced down at her hand tightly wound in his. She hadn’t let go since they got in the car. Seeing her like this made him restless. Uneasy. He wished he could do more for her and her family. Roman had already offered Giovanni some of his men. Giovanni had agreed. If Franco died, Giovanni would be next in line to the family business, but Eve reassured him her uncle didn’t harbor any ill intentions.

  “I was never close to my dad. He was always so aloof,” she murmured, still staring out the windows. “He left the child-rearing to my mom and relatives.”

  Eve finally faced him. “Still, he’s my dad. I don’t want to lose him.”

  “You won’t,” he reassured her. “Franco’s tough as nails. He won’t die from a single gunshot wound.”

  Roman wondered if Eve could detect his lies, that he was only telling her what she wanted to hear. It wouldn’t matter. Roman knew the doctors at St. Mary’s and had made calls earlier to a prominent hospital board member. Franco would be getting the best care the hospital had to offer.

  The car stopped in front of St. Mary’s. Silvio, his second-in-command, who offered to drive them, got out of the car first. Silvio scanned the area. Roman didn’t need to look behind him to know three more of his men alighted from a second car. Roman wasn’t taking any chances when it came to his wife’s safety. At Silvio’s nod, Roman exited the vehicle and opened the door for his wife. Immediately, Eve gripped his arm.

  Roman led her inside. They made a quick stop at the front desk. The nurse manning the desk seemed to be expecting them, because she had another nurse led them to where Maria, Giovanni, and the rest of the Russo family members were waiting. Spotting her mother, Eve let go of his arm. She pulled the older woman into a tight hug. Maria seemed relieved to see her daughter there.

  Giovanni and he traded a few quiet words while Eve and Maria caught up.

  “He’ll be out of surgery in two hours,” Giovanni said, checking the time on his gold Rolex. “I know you’re a busy man, Roman. You can leave Eve with us. She and Maria would be well-guarded.”

  Roman trusted the Russos to some extent. They’d both entered a profitable alliance, but he didn’t trust anyone to guard his wife, even her family. He knew he was being paranoid, but Eve had already lost her sister and brother-in-law to an assassin, and her father, the head of the Russo Family, was in surgery.

  “I’ll stick around a little longer,” he told Giovanni. “Excuse me for a second, I’ll have a talk with the Chief of Surgery on the second floor.”

  Roman interrupted Eve’s talk with her mother to tell her he was off to visit a doctor. He bid Silvio to standby and keep a close eye on his wife and Maria. His visit to Dr. Rogers turned out fruitless, but he’d been assured the hospital would do its damnedest to keep Franco Russo alive.

  Roman looked out the nearby windows and noticed the sun was just beginning to rise. He decided he’d get Eve and Maria some coffees. By the time he returned, Eve and Maria were seated on the uncomfortable plastic chairs outside the ICU unit.

  He was about to call to his wife when a tall and hawk-faced man caught his attention. The stranger emerged from the emergency staircase, looking slightly out of breath. He wore an oversized filthy trench coat, and both his hands were inside his coat pocket. He stood maybe ten or twelve feet away from the two women.

  Roman didn’t remember dropping the steaming coffee cups. He glimpsed something long and metallic underneath the stranger’s coat. A shotgun. What the fuck? Who was this psycho? It took guts to draw a gun in a hospital, in a public space, unless he wasn’t entirely mentally stable. Roman automatically reached for his favorite firearm, his Smith and Wesson. He usually kept the gun tucked in his shoulder holster underneath his suit.

  “Shooter! Get down,” he yelled at Eve and Maria.

  His proclamation created chaos among the Russo Family members. The shooter remained unfettered. He swung his shotgun right at Maria, then Eve, his bloodshot eyes wide, his teeth bared. Maria tugged Eve’s arm. Roman didn’t think. He tackled both his wife and mother-in-law to the ground as the shooter fired.

  A bullet grazed his shoulder. Roman held his gun in both hands and fired. The bullet took the stranger in the shoulder. He yelped, fumbling his weapon. Roman was faster. Before the killer managed to take aim again, Roman shot his left hand. The man screamed, letting of his firearm.

  A chilly coldness filled Roman. He went to the quiet place where he killed. How dare this piece of scum aim for his wife? This was unacceptable. Roman promised Eve no harm would ever come to her. He fired at the man’s chest. He bowled over, still spitting out obscenities.

  “Filthy Russos,” the man spat. He didn’t say anything else because Roman’s next bullet went to his head.

  He knew it would be probably better off if he didn’t kill the assassin. The fucker could be tied down, questioned. Still, judging by his bloodshot eyes and filthy appearance, he was an addict of some sort. Silvio and Giovanni were shouting orders at their men. Roman paid them no mind. He was confident they’d be able to maintain order. Everyone there knew who they were and even if some dutiful citizen phoned the cops, he wasn’t worried. The local coppers were on Roman’s payroll.

  Roman helped his shaky wife to his feet. Eve continued trembling even as he held her close to his chest and stroked the line of her back.

  “It’s all over,” he reassured her. “The shooter’s dead.”

  “I saw him, at our wedding,” she whispered.

  He gripped her shoulders and looked into her tear-stained face. “What do you mean?”

  Eve explained catching sight of the unknown stranger, but she didn’t know who he was.

  “I’ve seen him somewhere,” Maria finally spoke. Eve’s mother looked pale, but she seemed a lot calmer now. “He came by our house one time, begging for more time. I think he owed the Family money.”<
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  “We’ll discover his identification sooner or later,” Giovanni said, joining them. “That was a close call. Good thing you’re fast on your feet, Roman.”

  “It was sheer dumb luck I noticed him,” Roman said. Hell, when it came to Eve, he took zero chances. He returned his attention to his wife. “Do you want me to take you home?”

  She shook her head. “I’m all right now. That shooter caught me by surprise, but I want to stay here until my dad gets out of surgery.”

  He nodded. His wife possessed nerves of steel, after all.

  “What will happen to him?” Eve glanced at the body with a grimace.

  “My men will dispose of it and the observers who managed to catch a glimpse of our little drama will be handsomely paid off,” he reassured his wife.

  “Okay,” she whispered, looking relieved. “I’m really glad you decided to come with me, Roman.”

  “I’m never leaving your side, at least for today,” he added, making her laugh. It had been a rough morning, he mused, but he grew certain the rest of the day wouldn’t be as hard.

  An hour later, the body was gone. The floor where the shooter bled out had been scrubbed clean. It was like nothing happened on this floor. Russo family members came and went. Franco finally got out of surgery.

  “He made it. You’re right, Roman. He is tough,” she said with a little laugh. They watched two nurses wheel Eve’s father to his private room. “I don’t know why I was worried in the first place.”

  They both had every right to be worried. Franco had gotten lucky. The bullet had missed his heart by half an inch. Even so, it would take weeks of recovery. Franco wasn’t a young man anymore. Neither was Roman, but he’d always take special measures to ensure his and Eve’s safety. Eve knew what she was getting into when he married him.

  There would always be enemies lying in wait to hurt them, to hurt their families but they’d always answer with retaliation. By the end of the day, Silvio would have information on their shooter.