Sacrifice: The Mafia Don's Pregnant Wife

oe

ew days. I slept on the concrete floor in the furthest corner of

s cleaned and his wounds stitched, his body began to knit itself bac

my corner; he kept to his. The only words exchanged were clinical-"Let me

s its own lang

's patient assessment, recalibrating its understanding of a creature that had wandered into

g so hard I could hear the enamel creak. He was burning alive from the inside. I crawled across the cold flo

ighting even when his mind was lost. His grip was crushing, his ey

my mother used to speak to panicked gunshot victims on her kitc

slightly-pressing into the hollow of my pulse point

a quiet murmur in the dark. "I slipped them into your

d lips. His hand fell away. I pressed the cold cloth to his neck, his

aught the torn hem of my wedding dress-a grip so light I could have broken

, my back against the damp wall, and let him

ing bell, distant and half-heard. Don't mistake this for tenderness, I told myself. He's cling

ever made my puls

ll there, his fingers still tangled in my hem. He released me instantly, his jaw setting into something ha

g toward his chest. "No bleeding. Mini

soup through the slot, he pushed the larger portion toward my side of the cell with the

Dismissive. As if it were a tactic

do y

what "worse" looked like to a man who was cu

ally surrenders to healing. I watched the rise and fall of his chest, noting the way the tension

nwelcome. Beautiful in the way a blade was beautiful-all letha

of blood and gunpowder and something underneath that was just him-sm

ell, something had changed-a silent understanding that we were no longer strangers sharin

night that the danger

olled, deliberate movements. I was checking his bandages when my knuckles brus

low, almost contemplative, but there was an edge

cal. "Steady hands are the difference between a patient w

er taught

An acknowledgment that I had a history, a life before

" I said quietly. "And the

t elaborate, and he didn't ask. That was the dance we were learning-how to offer each o

ed up in my corner, he

bottom row. If the guards get aggressive, there's a shiv I

his voice had come from. "W

ng p

ion, I'm chained to a wall. I can't stop them."

t what little strength he had scraping a nail into a weapon-and

my chest, and I didn't kno

ith the precision of a man who had been planning escapes since before I was born. We talked in fragments-never about the outside world, never about what waited for us i

I told him one night, because the darkness made confessions easier. "I was trying

instincts," he murmured

home. He was found two weeks later with both

in his silence-a stillness that felt li

Some gifts were mean

ght, he let me

wn words back at me with a ghost of dark humo

taking

I'm giving it to you.

is eyes open and watching, a silent sentinel who had guarded my sleep through the darkest hours before dawn.

ands and let my fingers linger against his for a beat longe

ng in the dark between a bastard daughter and a condemned king-it had stopp

tarted b

, followed by the sound of heavy boots on the concrete steps. Two Syndicate gu

ood and damp earth. Standing in the center of the court

d the bleak concrete walls in disgust.

r designer bag, drew out a small, dark glass vial, and pressed it into

ll order tonight. They are going to torture Leo to death, and as his wi

was the exact same poison sh

s. "Since when does Charles offer mercy? The original

face. The crack echoed off the concrete walls. My head

ugly rage. "You think you are a martyr? Charles has already arranged my new betrothal. I am m

and then at Brenda's calculating eyes. I tightened my grip on the vial

words carrying over my shoulder. "A

ness. The guards shoved me int

cot, but the moment I stepped into the dim light, his e

ouched

hal, quiet command.

he strands catching on the raw skin. "It

eight for the first time in days. He towered over me, and the very air in the cell seemed to grow

e hand gripping my chin. His thumb traced the bruised skin of my cheek, a

against my face. "What do you want

d and cold. "I wa

e dark. "I will make s

my chin, stepping back into the shadows. He thou

ntly on the concrete floor. Without asking for permission,

essed my back against his chest. He did not pu

ecution order might arrive before we could solidify our bond. If we did not consu

sba

the word i

rhythm of his chest against my bac

on you right now?" I asked boldly, tur

hit the floor hard. He turned his back to m

he had the strength to shove me that hard, he had the

er-vigilant, refusing to sleep. I waited patiently in the dark,

lly evened out. I crawled silently a

out, pinning my wrists to the mattress above my head. He rolled, pressing his heav

r a long, suspended moment, neither of us moved. The cell

g for," he growled, his voice dropp

nd did not flinc

mine, and the world outsid