13. Finn
The week flies by in a flurry of sex with my wife, working at the casino, and more sex with my wife. Routine has always made me itchy, but this is one I have no problem falling into. Makes me wonder why I never opted to have a serious relationship in the past. Oh yeah, because no other woman could hold a candle to my fiery, vivacious wife, who is currently punching the hell out of a bag in our gym.
God, she’s magnificent. I’ve never met a woman who can match me in all areas of my life, but the way she attacks everything in front of her is so in line with how I’ve lived. Alessia and I were cut from the same cloth. She’s stubborn as hell and never backs down from a fight or a challenge. She has a knack for putting people at ease, but she holds her boundaries with grace and elegance instead of brute force as I do. I’m finding that not only is my wife one of the sexiest women I’ve ever laid eyes on, but her strength, intelligence and wit match her beauty.
“What are you staring at?” she asks as I stand on the other side of the gym, mesmerized by the sweat dripping down the front of her tank top into her cleavage. Fuck, I want to trace my tongue through there.
“Youre still dropping your right shoulder.”
“The hell I am.” She lets out a huff of annoyance and turns back to the bag, muttering, “Fuck you and your right shoulder bullshit,” while she puts even more force behind each punch.
She wasn’t, but messing with Alessia is one of the highlights of my day. I love the line she gets between her brows when she’s annoyed by me, then takes out her frustrations in other ways. Those fucking green smoothies she makes Enzo and I drink have gotten progressively fouler. I swear, I’m practically sweating garlic from my pores at this point.
My phone lights up on the bench and I see my brother’s name on the screen. I set down the weights I was working with and grab the phone before walking out of the gym.
“Hey,” I greet.
“Hey yourself. How’s the little wife?”
“Kicking ass in the gym. You should come spar with her. She might teach you a thing or two.”
“Maybe she’d want to sign up for a fight night? I’ve been toying with the idea of opening it up to female boxers.”
“Not on your life.” There’s no way my woman is going back to that ring.
“Fine, fine,” my brother replies on a chuckle. “Have you thought about taking her on a honeymoon? Mom thinks you’ve turned into some kind of brute or some shit because you two barely leave the house.”
“We haven’t had time. Until a week ago, she didn’t tolerate my presence, let alone did I think she’d have been inclined to take a trip with me.”
I didn’t have to tell my brother things with Alessia took a wild turn. He was at the casino a few days ago and saw the difference in us immediately. He didn’t comment, just smirked and patted me on the back before telling me our mother would be happy I’d decided to settle down with my wife. Apparently, marrying her wasn’t enough or some shit.
“You should take her to an island or something. Don’t most women dream of a tropical honeymoon?”
I laugh quietly into the phone. “My wife is hardly most women.”
“I don’t know, brother. She might surprise you.”
Not that I’d be opposed to seeing Alessia in a little bikini for a week straight, but I’m not sure tropical vacation is her speed. Hell, now that I think about it, I’m not entirely sure what is.
“I’ll give it some thought. Did you just call me to talk about my vacation plans, or is there another reason you interrupted my workout?”
“I thought with you being laid regularly, you wouldn’t be so grumpy all the time.”
“Watch it, little brother,” I grumble.
Eoghan laughs at my tone, never taking me too seriously. If he wasn’t my brother, I swear I would have put him six feet under a hundred times by now for his insolence alone. He updates me on the fights he has lined up and a few changes he wants to make with a distributor.
“It all sounds good, brother.” He may be a cocky little shit most of the time, but he’s a smart businessman who treats saving a few dollars to make more money like a challenge. My little brother never met a good deal he could pass up.
“Are we going to be graced with your presence for Sunday mass?”
I missed last week, and my mother was none too happy about it. I was too busy being buried inside my bride to care about attending a church service, but she made it clear it was only a forgivable offense if there wasn’t a repeat.
“Yes. Alessia will be with me as well.”
Since being married, she hasn’t attended mass or brunch with my family, instead driving out to her parents’ on Sundays. It’s time we started acting like a real couple and finally intertwining our lives like other married people do.
“Mom will be ecstatic. She hasn’t wanted to push—”
“No, she leaves that to you.”
“What can I say? It’s tough being her favorite.”
“Except you’re not.”
“I will be if you miss any more Sunday brunches. See you then, asshole.”
“Bye.” I hang up the phone and shake my head. My brother’s an idiot.
Alessia walks out of the gym, sweaty and beautiful, and I swear my heart skips a beat when she greets me with a wide smile.
“Who was on the phone?”
“Eoghan. I told him we’d make it to church and Sunday brunch this week.”
“That kind of makes it official, then.”
“I think our wedding made it official, but it would be a good idea to show our faces in public, aside from the casino. Plus, Eoghan inferred that my mother thinks I’m holding you here against your will or something.” I roll my eyes and Alessia laughs, walking up to me and running a hand through my hair before tilting her head up for a kiss.
“Maybe I’m the one holding you here to be my sex slave,” she purrs just before she bites my lower lip.
I growl and lift her, allowing her legs to wrap around my body. “I’ll let you tell her that one.”
Alessia lets out a bark of laughter. “I most certainly will not.”
When I head to the staircase, she pulls back from where her lips had been trailing wet kisses up and down my neck.
“I thought we were going for a run after the gym?”
Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, I take her mouth in a bruising kiss. “I think I have a better idea to get some cardio in that doesn’t involve running. Or clothes.”
The casino is quieter tonight than it has been since word got out about Alessia being the new host. Don’t get me wrong, we’re still busy, always are and hopefully always will be, but it’s a manageable pace tonight. People are curious to see my wife in the flesh, wanting to catch a glimpse of the Italian Mafia princess I married. Doesn’t bother me in the least. If their curiosity puts money in my pocket, who am I to argue?
“Boss, I think there might be a problem,” one of our security guys says. This is the first night Alessia’s been on the floor without Enzo being here. His niece was celebrating her seventh birthday, so my wife insisted he have the night off. I gave one of my other guards the sole task of watching Alessia, but she doesn’t like anyone crowding her when she’s working the floor. Says it makes her seem unapproachable when she’s trying to attend to our guests. There haven’t been any issues since she started. Everyone’s been respectful, but I have a sinking feeling that’s going to end tonight.
I pull up the camera feed on my computer and quickly find my wife. She’s talking to a man who I recognize as the son of a guy my father did business with years ago. If memory serves, he runs a couple brothels. Not as high end as the ones my organization has, but he makes a pretty penny. He’d have to in order to afford the membership here.
Alessia is wearing that don’t fuck with me look and the guy has a sneer stamped across his face. Her guard tries to intervene, but she shakes her head in his direction, so he takes a step back.
I grab my jacket from the back of my chair and put it on, heading to the casino floor.
“I told you I wanted Tatiana tonight. If she’s not here, then call her in,” I hear him say loudly as I cross the room. Others are beginning to notice his drunken behavior and they spot me quickly walking to where the scene is playing out before averting their eyes. Everyone knows I don’t tolerate disruptions like this in my establishment, but every once in a while, someone likes to test me. With Alessia involved, I’m less likely than ever to handle this gently.
“And I told you, she’s unavailable this evening, and that’s not going to change, no matter how much money you try to throw at me or how loud your voice gets.”
Alessia looks as though she would love nothing more than to knock this prick on his ass. If he keeps it up, I might let her.
She’s obviously had enough and turns to one of the security guards waiting in the wings, signaling for him to remove the asshole in front of her from the premises.
He grabs her arm, and I see fucking red. “Listen here, you Italian whore—”
I get there before he has a chance to finish his statement, fury coursing through me when I grab the back of his head and slam it into the bar he’s sitting at. I yank his head back up as blood drips from his broken nose and wrench his face toward mine.
“Hello, Rick. I believe you’ve met my wife.”
Fear blazes through his eyes when he realizes the trouble he’s just found himself in. I bash his head into the bar again, cutting his forehead when it slams into his glass. When I yank it up, I turn him to Alessia.
“Apologize,” I bark at him.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.
“Not loud enough. I want some feeling behind it, Rick. And you’ll call her by her name.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Monaghan.”
Alessia quirks a brow and stares Rick in the face. “Thank you, but I have a feeling you haven’t even begun to be sorry.”
She flicks her gaze to me and tilts her lip in a private smile.
I haul the piece of shit from his chair and throw him on the carpeted floor. Two security guards flank Rick from both sides and haul him away, taking him to the back room without me having to instruct them. They know what the punishment is for anyone who disrespects my wife.
“Make sure everyone has a fresh drink on the house, yeah?” I say to Alessia, who rolls her eyes.
“I already planned on it.”
“That attitude, wife,” I growl as I touch my palm to her cheek and hold her stare. “Are you okay?”
Alessia’s gaze softens for a moment at the concern in my question. “Perfectly fine.”
I dip my lips to hers and take her mouth in a brief kiss, with the promise of more lingering between us.
“This won’t take long,” I tell her.
“Good,” she growls. “Meet me in your office when you’ve finished.”
I quirk a brow and a seductive smile toys with the corners of her mouth. So, violence in her defense is a turn-on. Noted.
Straightening my jacket, I turn around and march back across the casino floor to the end of the hallway with a hidden door on the left next to my office. I move a painting aside and press my thumb to the scanner, which unlocks the door to a soundproof room.
The lights are much brighter here than anywhere else in the building. It heightens the anxiety of the men I’ve had cuffed to the chair the way Rick is now.
“You know, Rick, our fathers used to do business together. Some would even say they’re friends. How disappointed yours is going to be when he finds out what a miserable asshole you were to his friend’s dear daughter-in-law.”
“I’m sorry, Finn. It’s been a long night of drinking, then one of my buddies got his hands on some grade A coke. I was out of my head for a minute there. I swear to you, it won’t happen again.”
His terrified gaze tracks me as I walk over to the table that holds several instruments we keep on hand for situations such as this.
“Oh, I have no doubt. You can consider your membership revoked, Rick.”
He nods his head frantically. “That’s fair, Finn. I deserve that.”
“But that would have been the case if you had spoken to any of my employees like that. The difference here is you spoke to my wife like that. You put your hands on what’s mine. What was it you called her again?”
I turn toward the trembling man with my arms crossed across my chest and stare into his eyes.
“A-an Italian whore.”
My jaw clenches so hard I’m liable to break a tooth. In two long strides, I’m standing in front of Rick, hammering my fist into his mouth one, two, three times. Blood drips down and runs over his chin before he spits a couple teeth from his mouth.
I grab him by the throat, not caring in the slightest that his blood is getting all over my hand and squeeze hard. Leaning down, I put my face mere inches from his.
“That’s for the filth you spewed at my wife.”
I revel in the panicked look in his eyes. He has no idea if I’m going to release his throat so he can breathe or if I plan on watching the life drain from him here and now.
Letting go of his neck, I spin around and walk back over to my table.
“Which disgusting hand did you use to grab my wife with?”
I turn slightly to watch him choke and gasp trying to get air back into his lungs so he can answer me.
“My right,” he coughs out.
My head tilts to the guard on his right. “Release his hand.”
The guard unlocks the cuff securing him to the chair, but firmly holds his wrist.
I grab a wooden barstool from the corner of the room and haul it to Rick’s side. My guard lifts his hand to the stool as Rick uselessly struggles against him.
“Knock it off, asshole. Take your punishment like a man, or I promise this is going to get so much worse for you.”
Rick stops trying to get his hand free, but his low cries grate on my fucking nerves.
Pussy.
I walk back to my table and grab a heavy rubber mallet. “Let this be a lesson to you and any of your buddies who may share the same views about the woman I married. No one speaks to my wife with anything less than the respect I demand from everyone in this city. If anyone thinks putting their hands on her will ever be justified or forgiven, they are wrong. No one touches my wife without severe consequences. The only reason I’m inclined to let you live is so you can serve as an example. If I catch you saying one rude thing about her, and believe me, Rick, I will find out, I will not hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes.”
I swing the mallet down on Rick’s prone hand over and over until the white bones on his knuckles are visible through his torn and bloody skin.
“Have I made my point clear?”
“Y-yes, Finn. Fuck. I get it.”
“Good.” I pull my fist back and punch the asshole in the temple, knocking him out cold. He slumps in the chair, an unconscious and bloody mess.
“Tie him up and dump him in front of his old man’s place. I’ll get you the address. He can explain to his dad what he did to cause this to happen.”
My men nod and take Rick out the door on the other side of the room into the back alley, where a car is waiting.
After washing my hands thoroughly in the industrial sink, I call one of my men to clean this room then call Cillian.
“Heard you were handling a problem,” he says when he picks up.
“All in a day’s work.”
I hear Cillian chuckle on the other end. “What’s up?”
“I need a favor. Can you charter me a plane and cover the casino tomorrow?”
“Sure. Where are you going?”
My mouth splits into a wide grin as my idea solidifies in my brain. “Atlantic City.”