Silent Vows: A Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (The Byrne Brothers Book 1)
Silent Vows: Chapter 40

The heartbreak in her voice had been too gut-wrenching. Despite my lingering anger, I’d had to go back to the apartment when she called. I’d had to be near her, even if I couldn’t bring myself to touch her until I was sure she understood the gravity of her mistake.

Her father and I were nothing alike. Absolutely nothing.

I would rather die than let my family come to harm, let alone harm them myself. Fausto Mancini was fucking scum. I was glad Noemi had told me the full truth because it justified the events I’d set in motion to take down the bastard. His reign of terror was over. He just didn’t know it yet.

“Keir and I have a meeting set up with the Donatis.” I set Noemi down on the bathroom vanity, keeping my body between her legs. “You trust me to handle this?”

“I do.” She nodded. “I’m just worried about Sante.”

“I know, and I’ll do my best to keep him out of it.” I couldn’t get enough of the unguarded innocence she offered in her mossy green gaze. Leaning back, I looked down at her inner thighs and trailed my fingers through the sticky wetness coating her. The sight brought new life to my softening dick. “This terrifies me, too, you know.” I peered up at her through my lashes.

“It does?”

“Of course, it does. I feel like I could walk away from everything—spend every day fucking you senseless—and die a happy man. That wasn’t how this was supposed to go. I wasn’t supposed to want you either,” I confessed.

“The mute Italian?” she teased with a smirk.

“That’s the one.” I touched my lips to hers with the hint of a kiss, bringing my body back to hers. “Italians gave me away. Why would I want anything to do with them?”

“You still feel that way?” she asked, a tinge of worry in her eyes.

“Nah, not really. And it doesn’t matter because you’re not Italian. You’re mine.”

Her lips hooked upward. “And you’re mine?”

I hated that she had any doubt. “Hell yeah, I am. And that means I owe you an explanation as well. It was shitty of me not to tell you, and I’m sorry. When Mia Genovese came over, she told me that my uncle Brody had actually been my biological father.” Saying the words brought back a renewed wave of frustration and loss. “All that time, and we’d never known. And now, it’s too late. He’s gone.”

“Oh, Conner. That’s heartbreaking. I’m so sorry.” Her body softened with the weight of realization. “That’s why you went after the Albanian last night.”

“I’d needed to make someone pay for what I’d lost. What had been stolen from me.”

“And when you got back, I was gone.” Her small hand came to rest over my heart.

My jaw clenched at the reminder. “I should have told you what I’d learned, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even comprehend it myself, let alone tell anyone.”

“I shouldn’t have left without telling you. I won’t do it again.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re in prison, but I need to keep you safe, and I can’t do that if I don’t know where you are. Tell me you understand.”

Noemi nodded, a golden hunger warming her green gaze while a shiver shook her. I wasn’t sure if it was desire or cold or a little of both.

The primitive inside me let loose a feral rumble. “Let’s get you in the shower before I fuck you again.”

My wife was equal parts innocent and seductive siren—the combination was beyond intoxicating. Bishop had called me obsessed, but that wasn’t it. My desire for her went beyond that. It was a chemical in my blood, overriding all logic and reason.

I was addicted to the mere thought of her.

She was all that mattered, and anything that threatened her would face my wrath. Fausto Mancini thought he was tough, but he had no fucking clue about the beast he’d unleashed.

Ready or not, fucker. Here. I. Come.