Chapter 4 Carmen Royal #3
He smirked and reached over, pulling me closer until my head was rested on his shoulder and his hand landed on my belly like it calmed him down. “You hungry? You gotta feed my baby. I don’t want my baby coming out stressed and underfed. That’s the only way I’m divorcing you.” he said.
“Oh please, yes, I’m a little hungry but I’m not worried about you divorcing me because it takes a lot to fill the shoes of being Mrs. Royal and it ain’t for the weak.” I winked at him.
He slowly nodded his head digging my response. “Sound like I ain’t the only one full of myself. You want the chef there when we get home?”
The word home sounded so different right now because I knew he didn’t mean my penthouse or his and from the direction we were heading in, I knew he was talking about the mansion.
I looked up at him. “So that’s it then.”
“That’s what?”
“We’re going straight to the mansion huh.” I raised a brow.
He looked down at me like he didn’t understand why that even needed to be said.
“The hell else we gon’ do? Send you somewhere by yourself after yesterday?
I’m not taking no more chances Carmen, for the first time in my life I feel guilty about a breach we didn’t catch.
As a man who don’t fuck up, you can’t imagine how I feel. ”
That answer did something to me because I had never seen him feel guilty about anything until now and I did try to sympathize with that. I sighed because it wasn’t his fault, but it was no need to keep carrying that bone back and forth talking about it. “You for real now.”
He kissed the top of my head and continued to rub his hand across my belly real gentle. “You forever stuck with me, welcome to death row.”
I looked out the window for a second at the traffic, tall the people, and the way everything still looked normal from the outside. Somewhere out there people were heading to lunch, heading to work, heading home, doing all the ordinary shit people do when their lives were normal, but me?
I was going to a mansion with my husband, the Miami King after surviving something that should’ve taken me out.
My phone lit up again in my lap with more messages still coming in, but I didn’t respond to any this time.
I did something I never truly did, I let the world wait because for the first time since those shots rang out, I wasn’t thinking about the cameras or the blood or the questions.
I was thinking about getting home and the farther the black trucks pulled me away from that hospital, the more relaxed I’d become.
Although Dom and I had officially moved in, we both found ourselves moving in a way where I would still fall asleep at my penthouse if I had a long day since it was closer to my office, and he would do the same at his, but he was saying that shit was over now.
The ride to the mansion felt quiet now but it wasn’t awkward either.
Dom stayed close to me the whole time with one arm wrapped behind me while his hand rested on my lower stomach like he needed to continuously make sure that the baby was okay.
The trucks stayed in front of us and behind us the whole ride, moving through Miami traffic in a long black line, and every now and then I would catch Dom looking out the window with that same look he’d had since the courthouse.
It was that same far-away calculating look.
It was that look that always let me know his mind was somewhere dark.
By the time we pulled through the gates of the mansion, the sun was starting to sit lower in the sky and the whole property glowed in that rich orange Miami light that made everything look prettier than it already was.
I would always tell people they had to literally be here to see it because Miami was just one of those kinds of places.
The mansion really did come out beautiful, actually better than I imagined honestly because I always had somebody coming to do something.
The driveway curved around a big water fountain in the front, and the outside of the house had that clean white stone with the black accents I loved.
The huge windows reflected the sky, the palm trees moved slowly in the breeze, and the whole place looked like something out of a movie.
I sat there for a second after the truck stopped just looking at it. “It’s weird,” I admitted in a hushed tone.
Dom looked at me. “What is?”
“This,” I said, glancing back at the house. “Actually living together. Not you staying at my place some nights or me staying at your penthouse… like really living together. I know we’ve been doing it, but it still feels weird.”
“You nervous?” he questioned.
“No.” I replied too fast.
“You think I don’t know when you lying.”
“I’m not nervous,” I said, already feeling myself smile a little. “It just feel different.”
“That’s cause it is different. Different is better for us. I can’t risk no more nights doing our own thing based off our schedules. That shit is over with and home is home.”
He stepped out first and came around to my side before I could even touch the door handle.
By now I was used to it. He opened the door, reached his hand out to me, and helped me down like I was glass that he didn’t want to break.
The second my feet hit the driveway; I looked back up at the house again. Yep, it’s perfect. I thought to myself.
It was everything for me, the landscaping, the lighting, the way the marble steps led up to those giant double doors. Even the air felt different and peaceful out here. With the penthouse, it was quiet, but everything outside below was busy.
“You did your thing with this house ma,” Dom said placing both of his hands on his waist. I told you do whatever you wanted to make it a home, and you made it happen. I keep saying it, but I be proud every time I pull up like it’s the first time.”
I looked over at him and smiled. “You really like it?” I asked. Once I told the designers, landscapers, and everyone else my vision, they really did deliver and I didn’t have to stand over them to watch.
“Ma, this shit hard,” he said with a little laugh. “I knew it was gon’ be nice, but this? You snapped.”
That made me feel good because I really had put so much into after he told me it was ours from day one.
Every detail, every room, every color, and every piece of furniture mattered.
I wanted it to feel like us. Soft enough for me, but rich enough for him.
I wanted it to feel like love and safety for the family we were building.
The inside looked even better. The ceilings were high and dramatic, the floors were glossy marble, the staircase was curved perfectly, and the lighting made everything feel warm instead of cold.
The living room had those huge cream couches with the black and gold accents I picked out.
The kitchen was massive with dark cabinets, marble countertops, and one of those oversized islands where everybody would probably end up gathering all the time if Dom allowed it.
There were fresh flowers everywhere because I had the staff keep them coming in, and the whole house smelled like vanilla, fresh laundry, and expensive candles.
Dom walked around slowly, out of habit just checking everything, and I followed behind him.
I watched how his eyes would linger on certain places and knew that’s where he had the hidden guns.
Those were in every crack and corner of the mansion.
“You know what this mean, right?” he asked after a while.
“What?” I asked.
“You can’t never get mad and try to put me out.”
I laughed. “Please, I’ll still put you out if I have to.”
He walked up to me and wrapped his arms around my backside slowly licking his lips giving me that look that would make any female drop to her knees and suck his dick right there on the spot. “You gon’ put me out my own house?”
“I absolutely will.”
He shook his head, but he was smiling. By the time I finally went upstairs, my body felt tired all over again.
Not weak in a weak way, just drained like mentally, emotionally, and physically.
Everything that had happened over the last twenty-four hours started weighing on me now that we were home and the adrenaline was gone.
“I’m taking a bath,” I told him while pulling my hair out of the ponytail letting it fall.
“Don’t be all day in the wifey, I need you to relax. I already called the chef.”
All I could do was stare at him. This is the side of him I’d prayed for and I was truly blessed. He was still rough around the edges, but he was adjusting quickly. I guess that was the difference between having love for somebody and being in love with somebody.
The master bathroom was probably my favorite room in the whole house.
The tub sat in the middle under a giant chandelier, the counters were marble, the shower was all glass, and one whole wall was windows overlooking the water.
I ran the hot water in the tub and poured in way too much bubble bath because I wanted to soak until my skin got as wrinkled as a prune.
By the time I got in, the steam had filled the room and the water felt so good against my sore body that I almost moaned out loud.
For the first time all day, I felt like I could breathe.
I leaned my head back against the tub and closed my eyes.
Somewhere in the house I could faintly hear music playing low.
I could picture Dom downstairs too. Probably in his office.
Maybe on the balcony. Probably with a glass of Hennessy in his hand and that same look on his face like he was trying to think his way through everything.
That was the thing about Dom. Even when his body was still, his mind never was.