Page 16 of The Mafioso’s Bride

I keep my expression still. Giada doesn’t need to see my anger.

But when I find Rafinelli, he’ll answer for every cruel thing he has done to my wife.

I fasten the pin to the lapel of my dark suit.

Giada’s face lights up. “You're wearing it now?”

“My wife gave it to me.”

“It doesn't match your suit.”

“It matches me.”

Her mouth curves. No shy smile this time. This one changes her whole face.

“That species is Hypsibius exemplaris. Scientists use it in laboratories because it's easy to grow and lays eggs.”

I rise from my chair.

“I’m going to hug you now,” I tell her. “Firmly.”

Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t move away. I step into her space and wrap my arms around her, one hand spread between her shoulder blades and the other firm against her lower back. She doesn’t flinch. I pull her against me with steady pressure.

She goes still for one breath. Then her body sinks against mine. Her arms circle my waist. She rests her cheek on my chest and holds on.

My cock hardens against my zipper.

I want to keep her here. I want to lower my mouth to hers. I want to teach her how to use that sweet mouth until she forgets every fact in her head except my name.

But not yet. Soon.

“That’s your penis.” Her face is pressed to my chest, and her voice is muffled

Christ, this woman. “Yes.”

I loosen my arms before I fuck her right here on my desk.

Giada holds on for one second longer before releasing me. She steps back, a flush spreading over her cheeks.

“Thank you for the pin.”

“You're welcome.”

I return to my desk chair to peruse the reports on my screen. The loyalist businesses under review have supplied plenty of paper and little progress. Giuseppe and Antonio have left no direct trail. The payments in front of me move through vendors, contractors, and accounts held by men who claim they haven't spoken to either fugitive.

She comes to the side of my desk to gather her new things, leaving the stuffed tardigrade beside my keyboard. “That one can stay here if you want.”

“He stays.”

“I think it's a female.”

“She stays.”

“Some species contain both male and female reproductive organs and can self-fertilize⁠—”

“It stays.”

“Are those three companies connected?” she asks, studying the reports that fill the monitor. Each company's invoices are grouped beneath a separate heading.