Page 17 of A Hood Wife And A Rich Goon

“Our baby,” Bull corrected her.

Toni blinked, then stared, speechless.

“What?”

“My nephew,” he said, calm, steady, voice breaking just enough in the moment to sound human.

“I’m the only one standing between y’all and a grave.”

Toni swallowed, letting his words settle in, staring ahead.

“What are you saying?” she whispered.

“I need you to marry me, Antonia.”

She laughed when she heard it again. Shaking her head, she clicked her tongue and stared out her window. This was crazy!

“Did one of those flying bullets happen to hit you somewhere and we didn’t know it?” she jested, turning back to him. Shaking her head furiously, she glared at him.

“My boyfriend⁠—”

“My brother,” Bull reminded her.

“My child’s father⁠—”

“My brother,” he repeated.

“He just died! Why would I ever marry you?”

Bull looked her dead in the eye.

“Because our last name is the only thing my father respects,” he told her. “If you’re my wife, he can’t touch you without declaring war on me.”

“And if he does?” Toni muttered.

“Then he answers to me.” Bull’s tone was cold, with a glacial glint behind his eyes to match.

“You’d go against your whole family?”

“I already am.” He shifted in the driver’s seat. “Consider me your shield.”

“You really think this is going to work?” She squinted.

It wasn’t the kind of proposal she ever expected to hear nor consider. Not based off love with any romance behind it. It was survival wrapped in a wedding band. She could run until the bounty was collected on her head and eventually die, or she could take her chances with Bull and see where she landed. Staying alive for herself and her child was her only priority.

“Okay. Let’s do it then. Let’s get married.”

Downstairs, Bull planned to set up shop in the living room. He grabbed food off UberEATS and went to search his collection for a nightcap. The pantry needed a restock because all he had was whiskey and a couple bottles of wine. He went for the hard shit as the doorbell chimed, alerting him that he had a visitor. Checking the ring cam app on his phone, it wasn’t who he expected, but he was going to open the door anyway. Sighing, he pulled himself away from the counter in the kitchen where he set his liquor and shot glass and padded toward the front entrance.

“Have you lost your mind, Bull?” His mother stormed past him and his father into the entryway and quickly spun on the heel of her Dior shoes.

The dark glower crowding his father’s face only seemed to deepen the longer he looked at him.

“You want to tell me what the fuck you think you’re doing?” Braxton growled, slamming the door shut behind him.

“I don’t have to explain shit to you,” Bull responded.

Knowing his old man better than most, when his hand moved to his hip, so did Bull’s. Luckily, Brenda was there to intervene, pressing a hand against each of their solid chests. These were two of the most stubborn men she knew. Bull didn’t have that nickname for no reason.