"Oksana," his voice is but a rasp as he realizes what I'm offering him. He stills. "Marry me."
I laugh because I did not see that one coming. "We're already married."
He shakes his head, "No, for real. I've been calling you wife for a little over a week now, and I very much want to do it for real."
Marriage?
The very thing I ran away from? The very thing I defied my father to avoid?
I look at Stephano, and what I see is that he values me for things other than what isbetween my legs. If things go south, I know how to become a widow. Quickly. But the funny thing is, I think I'd enjoy the title wife a lot more.
"Alright."
"Alright?" he checks as if he doesn’t trust his ears.
I nod, "Alright."
He bends forward and kisses me, so hard and hot, my knees actually go weak—and I don't do weak knees. It feels good to lean into him for support. There is no other man in this world I would ever show a weakness to. But he's earned that.
The sound of clapping hands startles us apart.
"Nice. Better than any romance movie I was ever forced to watch." Nico's voice is still hoarse, but his eyes sparkle with an electricity that is contagious.
"How long have you been awake?" Stephano asks, taking my hand and pulling me to the bed.
"Long enough to be sick." He exaggerates a gag.
"You know it's not polite to watch people," I scorn playfully. There is something about Stephano's younger brother, something almost Russian about him, something that calls to me. I feel protective of him, tender. Strange emotions that have never played a role in my life before. I know loyalty. I know love, sure, both I have for Grigori, but this seems different, deeper.
"You know it's not polite to kiss in front of an unconscious man," Nico teases right back.
"Brat." I flip the toe that's hanging out from underneath the cover. He chuckles.
"Good to see you awake again," Stephano rubs Nico's shoulder. "How are you feeling?"
Nico goes straight to the point. "Where is Gustave?"
Gustave. Not father.
"He wanted to see you, but we made him understand he’d better wait until I talked to you." Stephano's expression is laced with concern.
"Give me a gun and send him in," Nico presses out with so much venom it even surprises me. And I'veseen hate.
"What happened?" Stephano asks.
"What happened?" Nico runs his hand through his hair, looking so much like a younger version of Steph, it tugs at my heart. "He betrayed me, that's what happened."
"Alright, start from the beginning," I order, giving Nico’s big toe a squeeze that says no bullshit.
A nurse peeks in, takes one look at the three of us, mutters,later, and flees. Wise woman.
"He sent me to Don Silvestre officially to negotiate access to Venezuelan ports," Nico begins.
"Why the hell would he do that?" Stephano snaps. "We don’t need ports. We don’t run shipments."
"He said the Giordanos were getting too powerful with Porto Sangue," Nico replies. "That if they controlled it, they could choke our revenue streams. Raise prices. Force our hand."
Stephano glares. "Even then—we don’t need a fucking port."
