“What do you think of this one?” Tova comes out from the closet, this time in a blue dress. Her shoulders are bare, the top part fitting her like a second skin. When it reaches her waist, it flares out.
I’ve noticed she favors dresses that cling to her chest; she told me it was so she didn’t have to wear a bra, which I rather enjoy. However, when we’re going to be around others, I find I don’t care for others staring at her.
“It’s pretty.”
“You’re not very good at this.” She scurries back into the closet. “And this is your fault!” Tova shouts.
“It was an accident.” When I’d come up to change for the evening, she’d been in a white dress; it reminded me of our wedding, and I might have been overzealous. She had no complaints when she was coming on my face and then my cock. I broke the zipper, but in my defense, it was hidden.
“What about this one?” she asks, coming back out of the closet. “I know this isn’t your thing, but what do you think?”
“That’s the one.” No, this isn’t my thing. The dresses appear the same to me for the most part in different colors; this one is different. It stands out from the others. “This one is more you.”
Tova’s whole face lights up, and she jumps at me. I catch her, pulling her into me. “Careful.”
“Lift me higher,” she demands, and I bring her eye level to me. Tova starts kissing me all over my face. “I made this one.” Fuck me, does my chest ache when she lights up this way and it’s directed fully at me. It soothes something deep inside of me that I don’t understand, but I find it doesn’t matter. I know it’s all because of her, and I also know I enjoy it.
‘Okay, put me down.’ She wiggles her small body against me, rubbing against my cock. ‘Oh my God, you’re hard again.’ Tova laughs.
‘Maybe I don’t want to put you down.’
‘We can’t hide up here forever, and I want to check on things. I am the lady of the house, after all.’ Tova gives me a mischievous smile.
‘Fine.’ I put her down on her feet.
‘How fancy are these people that are coming?’
‘They are only people, little mouse. Don’t worry over who they are.’ I don’t want her to get herself worked up over it, and I know she will. The mayor is one of the guests. This is, after all, what my father wanted.
I don’t want to deal with this tonight. Another one of our warehouse containers was broken into; this one, however, was empty. There had also been a fire lit behind one of the apartment complexes we own. I don’t know if that’s connected or not. It was caught and put out before any real damage could be done.
“I know, this is just my first event as your wife. I don’t want to end up put away somewhere.”
“Don’t be a little brat.” I give her ass a small smack.
“I’m only teasing.” Tova presses a kiss to my mouth, and I put her back on her feet. She takes my hand, and I let her lead me out of our room and downstairs, where she breaks away to go talk to Chef Marcello.
Over the past few weeks, she’s been relaxing more and not tiptoeing around the house like she doesn’t belong here. Tova is finding her footing, and she was right about letting her be friendly with some of the men who work with me.
The other day, she made Turner a bouquet of flowers to take home to his wife when she heard she wasn’t feeling well. Turner had asked if it was okay to give his wife, Sofie, Tova’s number to thank her.
It reminded me of what my little mouse told me about making friends naturally, and I agreed. Turner’s wife did text her, and they have been texting ever since. It turned out Sophie hadn’t been sick after all, Tova had informed me; she was pregnant.
Then she swore me to secrecy, because they weren’t telling people yet. I promised her I wouldn’t tell a soul. I guess my little wife thinks I’m into gossip. It’s only interesting when I’m hearing it from her.
I pull out my phone to check on a few things, still watching my wife flutter around the kitchen.
“War.” Becca greets me. She must have already been here. Likely chatting with my mother.
“Evening.” I give a standard smile. Tova told me it might make me appear more friendly if I would smile at people. Who better to test the theory with than her mother? I see Tova glance our way. “How are you?” I ask Becca, and Tova smiles, then goes back to arranging food on a tray.
“I’m doing very well. I wanted to thank you. Tova has been glowing since the two of you got married. I’ve been rude.” Her words surprise me.
“There’s no need to apologize. I don’t blame you. You were forced to do something you didn’t want.” I turn my attention to my wife. “I could have never done it.”
“Thank you,” Becca says again, putting her hand on my arm, pulling my attention back to her. “She always had a crush on you. I suppose it was meant to be. All of it really.” She gives me a genuine smile. “And thank you for not telling her.”
“Telling her what?” I ask. Now she really does have my full attention.
“You know.” Becca glances around. “That it was your father who gave her to us.” What is she saying? “We could never have children, and then a miracle came along, and we got Tova.”
“She is special,” I respond, making no promises. I have no fucking clue how to handle this delicate bomb Becca has placed in my hands. She doesn’t know it, but this is a hell of a fucking way for her to get some revenge on me for laying claim to her daughter.
“You guys are talking about me,” Tova says playfully.
“About how special you are.” She wraps her arm around my waist, and I put my arm over her shoulder. Tova rests her head on me.
“Well, don’t stop because I’m here.” Tova laughs.
“The flower placements are lovely,” Becca tells her, wanting to change the subject.
“Oh, you’ve seen them?” Tova slips out of my hold, eager to speak of her flowers with her mother. They both head toward the formal dining room where she’d put them earlier today. I wait for them to disappear out of sight before I go in search of my father. I find him and my brothers in the library.
“I need a word with our father.” Z’s brows rise while Ronan, who could give a shit less, heads for the door. My father speaks once they leave the room, closing the door behind them.
“I take it this isn’t about the docks or the fire.” No; if it was, I wouldn’t have cared if my brothers were here. This is different. Really fucking different. I have a lot of questions about Tova, and I need my father to begin answering them.
“You’ve withheld information about my wife from me.”
‘I don’t find the information worth noting.’ I stare at him. ‘Do you?’ He stands from the oversized chair he’d been sitting in. ‘Does it really matter? Z is your brother even though he came to us under different circumstances. Is he not?’
‘That’s not the point. You used this to push the Sullivans’ hand in giving their daughter over to me.’
‘I did what I needed to.’ I fight not to ball my hands into fists, to give away anything, but I’m finding that’s not so easy anymore when it comes to Tova. I can be rather unpredictable.
‘And that is where the problem lies.’ I take a step closer to my father. ‘Will you try to do the same to me?’
‘No, there is no need.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ Which means I might have to tell my wife this information. Even if my father swears to never utter a word of it, I still have this sense of betrayal. A feeling that I’m lying to her. I never want there to be anything between us. No secrets.
‘I’ll admit, I used Tova, but that is done.’
‘For now?’ I take another step closer to my father.
‘No, the task was accomplished with you two simply marrying.’
‘I’m not buying the storyline any longer about this being about making me appear more friendly to get other clients to deal with our family or whatever pony show you think the public needs to see.’
‘That isn’t why I did it.’ I’m getting sick of these word games.
‘Dario.’ We have never stepped past the point of father and son, but I will if need be. Tova is off-limits to everyone.
‘You needed purpose. You think a wife can be a weak spot? Do you think it tames you?’ My father shakes his head back and forth, making his way over to me. ‘What you don’t realize is it makes you only that much more deadly. You, my son, needed a reason to live.’ His hand comes down onto my shoulder. I think my father had his own reason as well. He wants to make sure that I stay solemnly planted in the gray. That I don’t want to make things too clean.
“That’s how you see it?”
“It is.” He nods.
“That I’d kill you to save her.”
My father smirks. “And I’d kill you to save your mother.” He gives me a shoulder squeeze. ‘But she’d kill me right after, so I suppose you’re safe.” With that, he leaves the library.
“Is everything okay?” my brother asks, stepping into the library. Z is right behind him.
“I don’t know.” My father’s words linger in my mind; he’s not wrong.
