“Mia?” I lift a brow. “She’s gonna be a handful,” I answer honestly to my vice-president. His wife, Rose, puts her glass down and signs him something.
“Rose wants to know if Mia is studying,” he translates.
“She finished her master's degree this year, historical costuming. Why?” I know all about that because I’ve stalked her and hired men to gather intel on her since the moment I knew she’d be my wife. Learned her habits, the products she uses, the folks she saw, the clients she has. Anything I could get my hands on to learn more about her.
Rose signs something to me. I learned a few signs since she’s Vox’s old lady now, but I’m nowhere as fluent as he is. The bastard learned to sign in six months for her.
“Rose says that Mia and her can hangout sometimes if she wants company when we’re here,” Vox explains, giving a grin at his woman. Those two are so disgustingly in love but I gotta say, he’s never been happier and more efficient so I’m glad he found her.
Vox and Rose come back from Seattle from time to time when I need him by my side for certain deals. They bought a flat downtown. It could be good for Mia to meet the women from her new club.
“Thanks, Rose. I’ll let her know, she could use some company.” Zeroing in on Mia, still talking to her cousins, I finish my whiskey in one swift shot, my jaw clenching as I watch a tall blond guy's hand rest on her arm.No fucking way.
“Excuse me,” I say, fastening the buttons of my jacket before striding toward mywife. Taking a deep breath, I try to remember why punching this guy from O’brian’s club isn’ta good idea. She smiles back at him, and for some reason, it doesn’t sit right with me.
“Hands off,” I grunt, pulling her waist to my side in one motion, resting my palm on her hip and feeling her discreet jolt of surprise before she conceals it under a warm smile.
Fuck, she can pull off a good poker face.
I wonder what else she has in store. The three guys who are talking to her lose their smiles immediately at my sight. They’re O’brian men, and they know better than to fuck with me.
“I was just talking about you, hubby,” Mia says in a way too cheerful voice, emphasizing the fucking nickname.
What game is she playing?
I grip her waist tighter, a warning. “Only good things, I bet,” I tell her, my voice cold as ice.
“Of course.” She chuckles, but it sounds fake as fuck, although I seem to be the only one noticing it. “Actually, my cousins were telling me about your cage fights. Seems like you're famous across states.” A smirk plays on her full lips.
I lean in closer. “You find that interesting, princess?” She wants to play lovebird in front of people? Let’s see who breaks first.
Her eyes flicker with challenge as she looks up at me, unfazed. “Not really, it sounds like a lot of testosterone and not a lot of brain.”
Mia’s words cut through me like a knife. Fighting is so much more than just physical power; it’s a way of life, a mindset only very few get to experience in a lifetime. But I refuse to let her see how much her words affect me. Her cousins stills, obviously uncomfortable in front of our standoff.
“Um…we’re gonna go now,” says the blond guy, and the three of them disappear as fast as they can. I get the sense she’s trying to get under my skin, and I fucking hate that she’s succeeding.
“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” I retort.
“Just calling it like I see it,” she replies coolly, her gaze unwavering.
“Next time I fight, you’ll come sit next to the cage, and we’ll see if it’s as simple as you think it is.” I clench my jaw, struggling to keep my temper in check.
“Of course I will, after all, isn’t that what a good wife is supposed to do? Support her husband?” she asks, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Whatever you think you’re doing, Mia, you can drop the act right now,” I say, tilting my head.
Little Mia wants to piss me off to escape our marriage? Nah, too easy.
“What act?” she asks with fake wide, innocent brown eyes.
“C’mon, trying to piss me off so I’ll break the deal? You’re too easy to read, princess.” I like to call her that to piss her off.
Her eyes flash with something fragile and vulnerable but it disappears right away to be replaced by her mask of confidence.
Interesting.
So there is something underneath this attitude. She doesn’t answer, probably shaken by my words.
