Page 30 of Stroke of Luck

“I feel like we should take some engagement photos in it and make sure to send it to my mother so she’ll always be able to treasure it,” I suggest.

Othello chuckles as he sets me down once we’re in the coatroom, grabbing my throat once again to drag me up to his lips as he kisses me, hard and raw. Everything about this man is dangerous and sexy as hell. More than any woman could hope for. Satisfied, he releases me, and Remo helps me into my coat, making sure that he’s buttoned it up for me before he kisses me on the forehead.

“We are going out the back entrance since the media is still out front,” Remo informs me as he takes my hand, leading me down a long hall. “Did you eat?”

“Yup,” I say, popping the p. “Someone ordered pizza and had it smuggled into the kitchen. Best food I’ve ever eaten at a gala.”

“Good.”

“Do you know where we are going now?”

“Yes.”

“Goodness, aren’t you a wealth of information. I’m gonna need you to slow it down so I can keep up,” I comment, rolling my eyes.

Remo flicks his gaze over to me, narrowing his eyes slightly. “If we wanted you to know, you would have been told.”

“Okay, now I’m not sure if you’re going to kill me or not, with that kind of statement,” I sass.

Remo comes to a halt, yanking my arm so I’m facing him as he looms over me. “You will never have anything to fear from us, coniglietto, so I don’t want shit like that to ever come out of your mouth again. Do you understand me?”

The ball of warm, happy energy I had earlier fizzles out as my stubbornness comes out to play. “Fuck you, Remo.”

Remo’s hand snakes out, taking a fistful of my hair as he slams me against the wall, his mouth hovering over mine. “Oh, I very much plan on that happening, coniglietto.”

Then he’s devouring me, using my hair as leverage to get me at the angle he wants, as his other hand firmly holds onto my hip. Growling, he takes a step forward so his body’s flush with mine, and I can feel his stiff dick rubbing against my stomach. I groan at the feeling, raising my arms to wrap around his neck, causing him to use his hand on my hip to grip my ass and pull me up until I can wrap my legs around his waist.

“God, that is hot as fuck,” Paolo purrs into my ear, causing me to jerk away from Remo, having forgotten where we are. “What the hell did you say to him to cause him to snap like that?” he asks, leaning against the wall beside us.

It takes me a few moments to clear my head from the lustful thoughts I have flying around to answer his question. “Um… fuck you?”

“Hmm, somehow I think there might have been something else besides that.”

“She made a joke about us possibly killing her,” Remo states.

Paolo jerks back like he’s been slapped. “What the fuck, Skyler! Why would you think that? I mean, I know we don’t know each other very well, but once you became ours, that changed the whole goddamn situation. No one is going to kill you, least of all us.”

There is no reason on earth that I should believe them after only knowing them for this amount of time, but the hurt and anger on both their faces makes me feel like an ass. “I’m sorry.”

“Damn right you better be, skittles. Don’t ever let a thought like that cross your pretty head again,” Enzo interjects, appearing behind Paolo. “I’ll turn that ass of yours red if I hear you say shit like that again.”

“Now that we have that cleared up, can we go?” Othello asks, drawing our attention.

Remo doesn’t set me down, instead holding me the whole way out of the hotel, only setting me down so I can get in the limo. Once we’re all in, I still feel a strained energy between all of us, and I don’t know how to fix it.

“Baby girl, I know you see in the movies that mafia men don’t give a shit about their women and treat them as less than. That is not the case for us. Every woman tied to one of our men is treated with respect and treasured. We might not have them in our business or informed of all that we do, but that, again, is to keep them safe. To assume that we would willingly hurt you physically is a grave insult. Every relationship has its ups and downs on an emotional level, but I swear on my father’s grave that no one will lay a hand on you in anger,” Othello explains.

My mind races back to how they handled things with Bethany. They had every right to punish her for trying to hurt me and to have hurt Remo. She wasn’t tied to anyone, and all that happened to her was to be exiled and cut off from working.

“Wow you guys took that far too seriously, I didn’t mean it in that way— I’m sorry,” I apologize, looking each of them in the eye as I speak. “I shouldn’t have assumed the worst when you’ve never given me a reason to think you would harm me,”

“We accept your apology,” Remo answers, kissing the top of my head.

“It won’t be the last time we have a misunderstanding in our relationship, but as long as we all promise to talk and work it out I think we’ll be just fine,” Enzo assures with a gentle smile.

“Agreed. Communication is going to be key between all of us as we navigate this new situation,” Giorgi adds, and the others nod their agreement.

“Lovely. Now can I tell her where we’re going?” Paolo interjects.