Page 159 of Sins of Innocence

Istand outside the glass-walled back office for a second longer than necessary, watching Áine work without her noticing me yet.

Her hair is up in a bun to accommodate the warm days of late spring and her brows are pinched in concentration while she types something into the new accounting software McLaren installed last week.

It's going to take my wife weeks, if not months to get all of these business accounts up to date and online. How are there still companies tracking their financials through paper ledgers?

Getting Áine out of the apartment was McLaren's idea. She said my wife's constant hovering was going to make the girls realize something was wrong. And none of us wants them to know about the Hollow Point Kings' plans for Sadie.

Ever.

Those plans have no hope of coming to fruition, not with me and my team methodically disposing of its members.

When Áine mentioned getting a job, I didn't argue and tell her I would provide for both her and the girls. I suggested she come to work for me. I needed her skills.

More excited than I thought a human could be at the idea of being immersed in accounts all day, she jumped at the idea. I left it to McLaren to convince her to start now and trust the girls' safety to me. And my new sister-in-law didn't let me down.

Torch bumps my shoulder as he walks past carrying two banker boxes full of files. "You gonna stand there all day lookin' creepy, boss?"

I don't bother looking away from Áine. "Fuck off."

Torch snorts and keeps walking.

He's part of the four-man team on Áine right now.

Inside the office, Áine mutters something under her breath and aggressively taps a key on the number pad.

Then she huffs.

My dick stirs.

Nothing new about that. Everything my wife does turns me on. Every. Damn. Thing.

She glances up then freezes when she spots me through the glass. Her entire face changes. Softens. And something weird happens in my chest.

My aching dick makes sense. This tightness in my chest doesn't.

Whatever heart I had died a long time ago.

At least I thought it did. Is this pain in my chest it waking up?

Áine pushes her chair back and stands, smoothing down the flirty skirt of her sundress.

I met her wearing the boring boxy black uniform of a maid and she stole my breath from my chest.

But my wife likes soft tops that cling to her curves, full skirts that don't cover her knees and wrap dresses that taunt me with how easy it would be to touch her gorgeous tits if I just slid my hand into her bodice.

She's wearing one of them today, in a blue two shades darker than her eyes. The dress with its neckline that shows a tempting amount of cleavage is the straw that broke the camel's back.

Or the final bit of provocation that has her mobster husband ready to kidnap her from work.

I've spent the entire morning thinking about untying the bow that holds that damn dress together. And wondering whether she'd make those breathy little noises that heat my blood if I did it and put my mouth on her nipples right here against the filing cabinets.

I push the door open to the glass enclosed office, wishing the walls were opaque so we didn't have to go anywhere for even a preliminary taste of my plans. What is the point of glass walls anyway?

"Hey." Her smile spreads across her beautiful face, slow and warm. "I thought you were at the warehouse in Queens."

"I was." Now I'm here.

Because that's where she is.