12. Alessia
Finn didn’t come home last night, and there was no text or missed call from him to tell me he was staying out all night. When I woke this morning and felt the cold sheets on his side of the bed, my heart sank into my stomach. Don’t overthink this, Alessia.
My brain is saying one thing, but the memories I have of late nights waiting for Orlando to come home after telling me to meet him at his apartment flip through my head like a movie reel. So many nights wasted waiting for a man who found a better offer at some bar or strip joint he was at. Of him always coming home and being surprised to find me in his apartment because he was so high or drunk he’d forgotten we’d made plans. I should have left, should have stopped returning his calls, but I was barely nineteen and so, so naive. Every time he promised nothing happened, I believed him. He said all the right things and when I pushed back, he found a way to make me think I was the crazy one for not believing him. When that stopped working, he resorted to other measures to keep me quiet and under his thumb.
I wasn’t a stupid girl by any stretch, but Orlando had a way with words and apologies. Fucking prick.
My phone rings, jarring me out of my memories.
Grabbing it from the bedside table, I see Gemma’s name flash on the screen.
“Hey,” I answer, not trying to hide my maudlin mood from my best friend.
“Uh-oh. What’s going on?”
I haven’t really talked to Gemma about the attraction that had been developing for my husband over the last few weeks. Gemma isn’t the type to cast judgment, but I was still a little embarrassed. I’ve spent the last ten years swearing off any man who was a part of this world, only to start falling for the first one I spoke more than three sentences to outside of the occasional party my parents had with the rest of the families. Not only that, but this was supposed to be a business arrangement, not a love match. Hell, Finn and I barely knew each other when we said our vows. But he was right when he said there was some spark there the first time we met, even though I didn’t want to admit it to myself.
“I think I made a huge mistake,” I grumble into the phone.
“You’re going to have to be a little more specific, sweetie.”
“I slept with him,” I whisper.
“With Finn?”
“Of course. Who else would we be talking about?”
“Well, sorry, Alessia. But last time we talked about him, I thought we were still on the ‘he’s the scourge of the earth’ page. I didn’t realize we flipped to the ‘he’s hot as sin, and I let him rock my body’ page. Give a girl a second to catch up, yeah?”
A laugh escapes me at the indignant tone in her voice, and I scrub a hand over my face, letting out a low groan.
“Shit, Gemma. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I have a pretty good idea. Your husband is gorgeous with a body and smile to match. I’m honestly surprised you held out this long.”
“Hes the head of a criminal organization. The exact type of man I told myself I was never going to get involved with again.”
She hums into the phone, and I can practically hear her gears turning. “True, but that doesn’t mean he’s anything like your ex. When that asshole at the fights put his hands on you, he handled it like any self-respecting man would.”
“That just says he’s possessive, not that he cares. Orlando would have done the same thing if he saw someone touching what was his.”
“Did he blame you for it later? Did he say you must have been flirting with him? Because Orlando sure as hell would have done that.”
“No. He was upset that we went there because it wasn’t the safest situation.”
“It wasn’t one of my best ideas, so I can’t fault him there.”
The day after the fight, when I talked to Gemma, she apologized for suggesting we go. Neither of us had been to an underground fight, so she didn’t know what to expect. Plus, the guy she went there to see apparently spent the evening doing lines of coke with his buddies at the bar they went to afterward, which is a huge turnoff for her. Gemma is all about staying in control at all times, and there’s nothing that can get out of control faster than being around a bunch of people high on coke.
“But he didn’t come home last night and that is definitely something Orlando did,” I grumble.
“What did he say when he left?”
I can’t tell her exactly what he said because the less Gemma knows about our business, the safer it is for her. “He had some business to take care of,” is all I tell her.
“Do you have reason to believe he’s lying? Aside from you believing every powerful man in your world is an adulterer, that is?”
“I mean, no…I know why he left and how important it was. And he did say when we got home from the fights that he isn’t a cheater and that he takes our marriage vows seriously.”
Then, yesterday, he said a lot of other things that would make me believe he wasn’t interested in having other women. But that could very well have been all talk. People say shit they don’t mean in the throes of passion all the time.
“So, he told you he’s not a cheater and he left last night because some important business came up, which, let’s be honest, isn’t out of the realm of possibility considering his business isn’t exactly a nine-to-five gig.”
“When you say it like that…”
“Honestly, Alessia, I think you might be looking for trouble that isn’t there.” She pauses, either to gather her thoughts or because she knows whatever is about to come out of her mouth is going to annoy me. Not that it matters; she’ll tell me whatever’s on her mind regardless of if she thinks I won’t like it. “Don’t get me wrong, I understand your hesitation. You’ve never been one to separate sex and feelings, so of course you’re going to have some big feelings, especially when it comes to sleeping with your husband. And I completely understand avoiding any relationships with men from your world. Believe me, I get that, but not every man is the same. Can you honestly say you think Finn is anything like Orlando? Finn still takes his mother to brunch every Sunday after church for Chrissake.”
“I feel like you shouldn’t be talking about church and using the Lords name in vain in the same sentence.”
Gemma laughs loudly into the phone, and I smile. “You can kiss my sacrilegious ass, Mrs. Monaghan.”
That’s the first time since our wedding someone used my married name. Even at the casino, people call me Alessia. I didn’t want to put on airs with the other employees or clientele. Of course, they all know Finn and I are married, but making everyone refer to me as Mrs. Monaghan seemed a bit much.
“Honey, I think you need to talk with him. Draw some boundaries. Let him know if he’s out all night to give you a heads-up. What’s the worst he’s going to say?”
The worst would be he’d laugh at me and tell me it’s none of my business where he spends his time or with whom. Men like Finn aren’t used to answering to anyone, let alone their wives. We may have had a day of amazing sex, and he may have been saying all the right things, but how well can I trust that? Trust him?
“Maybe I’ll try it,” I concede.
“Oh, I know a brush-off when I hear one.” Gemma chuckles into the phone. “Okay, I was actually calling because we haven’t had lunch since you started working at the casino and I miss my bestie.” After a few more minutes of chatting and planning a lunch date for next week, I hang up and decide to get my ass out of Finn’s bed and make some coffee. Lucian is staring at me from the foot of the bed, probably wondering when I’m going to get my lazy ass up and feed him. I send a text to Enzo, letting him know to come an hour earlier for a workout since I’m up early anyway, and I’d like to take a trip to my favorite gun range. Nothing like shooting several rounds for a couple hours to center my whirling thoughts.
After feeding my cat, I’m standing in the kitchen at the espresso machine, a wedding gift from my mother, when the back door opens and in walks my husband. He looks tired, but the second his eyes land on me, they brighten. I give him a small smile but don’t move. When he comes up behind me, he nuzzles his face into my neck.
“You going to make me one, wife?”
“Again, you have two hands and are perfectly capable of making your own.”
A small growl leaves his throat. “Mmm, that mouth. It fucking gets me hard every damn time.” He punctuates his statement by grinding his hips into my ass.
My head turns slightly to look him in the eye when I spot flecks of glitter on his cheek. I turn my body halfway in his arms, which are still pinning me to the counter, and see it on his neck as well.
“I’m surprised you can still get it up after the night you’ve apparently had.”
I buck my hips back hard, forcing him away from me, and he lets out a grunt of pain.
“Jesus Christ, woman. What the hell was that for?”
“Oh, I don’t know maybe the fact that you stayed out all night without a simple text letting me know you weren’t coming home.”
“I’m sor—”
“Or maybe when you do, you have glitter all over your body like you’ve been fucking some cheap whore in the back of a strip club!”
I’ve seen this little scene play out one too many times in my life with Orlando. I’ll be damned if I put myself through it again.
Finn’s hand goes to his neck, and he wipes it before looking at his hand. “For fuck’s sake.”
He marches over to the kitchen sink, grabbing a paper towel and wetting it, then rubbing it over his neck.
“Don’t fucking bother. I already saw it.”
“Alessia, I swear on everything, this is not what it looks like.”
I scoff and shake my head, my lip curled in disgust. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”
Finn holds up both palms in a surrendering gesture. “Okay, I know that’s what any man in my position would say. I swear, I wasn’t fucking any whores, but I was at a strip club.”
My mouth opens and closes like a fucking fish, not believing he’s so brazenly admitting to it. “I don’t know if I should be mad you went or thankful you’re actually being honest about something.”
“Hey,” he barks. “I’ve never lied to you.”
“The hell you haven’t! All that bullshit you spewed at the boathouse yesterday and in this very house, this very kitchen, only hours ago. Then you take off to a strip club and have the audacity to have a dancer’s glitter still on you when you come home,” I yell; deciding mad is definitely the emotion I’m going with.
“First off.” Finn forcefully tosses the damp towel into the trash then leans against the counter, clutching the edge of the counter so tight his knuckles are turning white. “I meant every word I said to you yesterday and every day before that. Including the words I said when we took our vows, which I believe I’ve already made clear. Secondly, I will not be standing in my kitchen and be compared to another man who you obviously had a bad experience with, Alessia. I am my own fucking man, and I don’t lie or cheat. Period. If you had let me finish, I would have told you that Cillian has a friend who works in a club and saw Carlo Cataldi there. She knew Cillian was looking for him, so she called to let him know. He went into a back room before we got there and didn’t come out again. Once we were certain he’d left and we missed him, we went to the casino and watched hours of boring-ass camera footage. We were searching for anyone we knew that he could’ve been meeting with or any clues as to where he’s been hiding or who’s been hiding him. I did not get a lap dance or anything of the sort, even though I was asked a few times, which is where the glitter is probably from. Dancers tend to get a little handsy when they’re trying to convince you to drop that kind of cash.”
Finn is breathing hard as he pushes off the counter opposite me and steps forward. This time I allow him into my personal space, though I’m still unsure if its the best idea. “I didn’t call because I didn’t think of it, and you have every right to be upset about that. This is just as new to me as it is to you. Obviously, I need to consider that you were worried—”
“I wasn’t worried,” I say, cutting him off. I was, but like hell am I going to admit that to him.
His lips quirk in a smile as he backs me against the counter again, caging me between his arms but not touching me yet.
“Fine. I need to consider that you have feelings that have nothing to do with you worrying about me being out all night. I’ll try to do better in the future. But you need to remember who you married, wife. And it isn’t some piece-of-shit capo with something to prove to his buddies by going and getting his dick sucked at strip joints instead of doing everything in his power to get home to you.”
I lift my chin and stare my husband in the eye. “Fine. I’ll work on it.”
He nods and has that fucking smirk on his face. “Fine.”
As soon as he leans down to swipe a kiss on my mouth, a throat clears behind him.
“Am I interrupting?” Enzo asks with his gym bag in his hand.
“Yes,” Finn says at the same time I tell him no.
Enzo looks between us, and I duck under Finn’s arm, needing a touch of space.
“Good news. Finn’s back in time for a workout,” I say, looking between both men.
Even though it’s obvious my husband is exhausted, I plan on making this training session as brutal for him as possible. I may believe him about the strip club thing, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve a little torture for the no-call, no-show situation.
My lips are in a thin line as I stare at my husband, waiting for him to say something, probably having a pretty good idea I’m doing this on purpose.
“Fine,” he breathes out. “Let me get changed really quick.”
“Fine,” I parrot back. “It’ll give me a chance to make a smoothie for you.”
“Can’t wait,” he replies in a flat tone before he nods at Enzo on his way out of the kitchen.
“Alright. I get you’re mad at him, but why do I have to drink that disgusting concoction,” Enzo complains when Finn’s out of earshot.
“Because it’s good for you. Jesus, do any of the men in this house listen to me?” I say the last part more to myself as I pull out the ingredients and make three smoothies.
Two with extra garlic.
Finn finally joins us in the gym. After showering, of course.
“I thought we could work on some jiu-jitsu today. We’ve been doing all upper body. Do you have any experience in it?” I ask my husband.
“A little. When Eoghan and I were kids, my parents had us try just about every martial arts practice they could find. Eoghan is better at it than I am. Don’t tell him I said that, though.”
We stretch out to warm up our muscles then get to it. I will say Finn isn’t bad, but I can tell he hasn’t practiced these kinds of moves in a long time. He has several pounds on me, so obviously, his size gives him an advantage. But I have years of training on him, so I make up for the size difference in skill. Still, I work for every pin I get.
And boy, I am working hard for it. At first, I could tell he wasn’t totally on board with trying to pin me, afraid he was going to hurt me. I, on the other hand, have no such reservations. When I tangled our legs and flipped him on his back, pinning him to the mat, there was a flare of pride and something else in his eyes. I saw it several times after the boathouse yesterday. Excitement and lust run through his gaze every time we’re on the mat, tangled in each other. But unlike yesterday, he has a snowballs chance in hell of taking this any further. Finn responds to touch like no man I’ve ever met before, so I decide I’m going to torture the hell out of him with it. Even though having his weight pressing into me and hearing the heavy pants and grunts coming from him is having an effect on certain parts of my anatomy, I’m more determined to teach him a lesson than I’m willing to give in to temptation. Okay, so maybe the warring emotions are neck and neck, but that doesn’t change my focus.
After an hour of grappling, Enzo lets me know we have an appointment at the gun range.
“Sorry to cut this short, but we have to go,” I tell my husband.
The look of disappointment on Finn’s face sends glee and a feeling of victory through me. He was hoping all the sweating and rolling around would lead to something else.
Not today, pal.
“We have a range here, you know,” he says in a lame attempt to keep me home.
I discovered it the first week I lived here and used it a few times. It’s a nice range and far more convenient than driving an hour to the one I used to go to nearly every day. But that’s not the point I’m making today.
“I know. I like this one better. Don’t worry; I’ll make it back in time to meet you before work tonight.”
He lets out a breath and nods. “Fine. I’ll see you later. I’ll take a nap while you’re gone.”
“You do that.” I bound up to him and give him a quick kiss on the lips then step back before he can take it any further. A girl can only take so much before she breaks, and I’m determined to make him sweat it out a little longer.
When Enzo and I get in the car, he looks at me and shakes his head. “Does that little workout slash torture session have anything to do with what I walked in on earlier?”
“Maybe. I’m just making sure he’s well aware of who he’s married to. Every action has consequences. Especially when you piss off your wife.”
“If he didn’t get the point before, I’m sure he does now.”
I smile but decide not to comment further.
The casino is busier than I’ve ever seen it before. Several high rollers are here at the same time, and I don’t think I’ve smiled so much for so long in my entire life. I’ve had to make sure everyone’s favorite liquor is stocked and ready, even going so far as to send one of the security guards out for a couple more high-end bottles Finn doesn’t keep stocked regularly. When one of the men was disappointed his favorite dealer wasn’t in tonight, I called her and offered to double her nightly wage to come in and deal for him. Finn said this is unusual, and normally, they let us know ahead of time when they’re coming in, but things like this can happen. I can tell he was impressed with how I handled the situation, not running to him with every little issue that popped up.
It’s about two in the morning, and it looks like things are starting to wind down. Thank God.
“I need to see you in your office,” Finn says in my ear. “Now.”
Shit. Did someone complain? Or did that one asshole run to Finn upset because there wasn’t room at his favorite table, and I couldn’t ask another customer to move? God, these rich pricks are like children when they don’t get their way.
I follow him to my office, and he opens the door, letting me go in before him.
“Have a seat,” he says, loosening his tie.
I sit behind my desk in the new chair that appeared my second night at the casino, but he makes no move to sit in a chair. Instead, he closes the door and stands in front of it, his dark gaze boring into mine.
“What is it?” I ask, swallowing past the growing lump in my throat.
Finn doesn’t answer but reaches behind him and locks the handle. He stalks toward me and around my desk before spinning my chair so I’m facing him as he towers over me.
“You are spectacular.” Finn leans down and takes my lips in an open-mouthed kiss. “Watching you handle business like a fucking professional made me so damn proud tonight.” He kisses my neck, licking and taking tiny nibbles up and down the column. “But I couldn’t wait another second to taste your pussy, wife.”
He kneels before me and grabs the back of my neck in one hand before lifting my dress and ripping the thin lace panties from my body, then crushing my mouth in a fevered kiss.
“I’m still mad at you,” I argue, pulling back, but there’s no heat behind my words.
“Then let me make it up to you.”
He lifts me from the chair and sets me on the edge of my desk. When I pull my dress up to my waist, he smirks.
“Yeah, you’re really mad.”
“Shut up.” I grab the back of his head and pull it closer to my center. I can be mad and need him to get me off at the same time. That’s totally reasonable.
Finn wastes no time before he dives two fingers into my core and begins licking my clit like a madman. I throw my head back and let out a long moan at the sensation of having his mouth where I absolutely ache for him. He doesn’t stop his ministrations as he takes the hand squeezing my thigh and moves it up to my mouth, covering it to keep my noises quiet.
It’s all too much, the desire and anger mixing, his head between my legs and his palm covering my mouth. When he curls his fingers inside me and finds the little bundle of nerves he seems to be so fucking in tune with, I come unraveled, biting his palm as the orgasm rips through me. Finn groans with the bite of pain I deliver, and I think I found out something new about my husband.
His tongue slows, following me down from the peak. When my shivers have subsided and he’s wrung every bit of pleasure he can from my body, he leans back and puts his two fingers in his mouth, groaning at my taste coating them.
Finn stands and shoves the pair of destroyed panties that were sitting on my desk into his pocket.
“Goddammit. I don’t have another pair here,” I gripe. I guess it’s time to bring some extras just in case my husband gets that destructive urge again.
“That’s fine. We aren’t staying,” he replies, running his hands through his hair to tame the wild strands I was just yanking as though they were the only thing keeping me grounded.
“We still have guests,” I point out, standing from the desk and straightening my dress.
“Cillian is here. He’ll handle the next couple hours for you. I’m taking you home so I can fuck you in our bed. Your little stunt today showed me something I didn’t know about you.”
Of fucking course he knew what I was doing. “Yeah, what’s that?”
“You’re bendy as fuck, wife, and I’ve been imagining all the different ways I get to fuck you now.”
This man looks like he’s going to try to break me.
Challenge accepted.