Savage Revenge: A Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Gangster Wants a Wife Book 2) by Layla Simon

Author:Layla Simon [Simon, Layla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-11-03T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CRIMSON

In the back of the car on the short drive, I try to stare at Micah without him seeing me. Even when I steal brief glances from beneath lowered lashes, he keeps meeting my eyes. I think I’ve managed it when I catch his reflection in the darkened divider screen but no, a second later he finds my gaze there, too.

Today has been so weird. It feels like a million years since this morning when our walk along the street was interrupted by the detective.

To test out my new phone, I’ve already left yet another message for my father, so far unanswered. A situation that I hope resolves before the wedding because I don’t want our first interaction since the party to be on such an emotionally charged day.

I rub my nose and the weight of my engagement ring startles me as it has done at least once an hour since I started wearing it. Even travelling through the city after dark, it reflects so much light that it seems to create its own glow.

Tomorrow, I’ll remember to thank Micah more than I did today. The array of jewels left me so awestruck that I struggled to pick one. I owe him more than a grateful smile.

Even at the time, I knew I should do better, but it was hard to react appropriately when I felt so much uncertainty.

Stupid. A ring shouldn’t make any difference. My dad gave me some beautiful jewellery on Monday, and it didn’t bestow this weird sense of obligation.

All that Micah did today should make me feel welcome. More than I was just yesterday when I struggled to work out what my place here should be. It does… but it also reminds me this is happening. It’s all happening.

Micah negotiating behind closed doors with my father is one thing. Putting a new house worth of jewellery on my finger is quite another.

I wish we had more time. My feelings stir, but everything still feels like far too much, far too soon. Like we’re trying to cram a courtship’s worth of emotions into a few days.

They won’t fit. There’s too many to process. I swing from ecstasy to regret in the space of seconds and all I want is to take things one step at a time instead of tumbling headlong down the stairs.

And now I can’t even get a clear view of this beautiful man without him staring back at me. Annoying. “Could you stop looking at me, please?”

“I’m only looking at you because you keep turning my way.”

“It’s very hard to form a complete mental picture of my fiancé if he insists on staring back at me every time I glance in his direction.”

He leans over to take my hand from my lap, pressing a kiss to my palm—a tiny gesture that makes my stomach feel insane. My body remembers every touch he’s bestowed on me and clamours for more.

But the driver pulls the car to a halt, getting out to open my door before I’m ready.

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