A Dark Marriage Mafia Romance
A FIGHT FOR LOVE. A WAR FOR VENGEANCE.
A forceful encounter leaves a cataclysmic enforcer, 𝗔𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮, under the thumb of the FBI. She is installed in an impossible position, forcing her to lie and deceit powerf...
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I shimmy myself into the armed suit with built-in weapons. Adoring the feel of the skin tight material hugging every curve of my body like the dress I wore tonight. The attire is black—darker than a starless night itself, with only one accent of silver embroidered on it.
I had Wynter specifically and carefully design the bulletproof Kevlar suit so that it could live up to its purpose and potential. I needed a suit crafted for protection, flexibility and ability to be stealth—even with the concealed weapons hidden within the black material, adding weight but not enough to effect movement or drag me down in combat.
Knowing I couldn't have it without a special marking, Wynter added a unique touch. The silver embroidery starts from my leg, a vipers narrow tail curled around my thigh before curving over my hip and up my spine, until it sweeps over my shoulder, its maw snapped open—sharp teeth out—ready to devour its prey.
Clothes can be weapons, too, and this attire is as lethal as they come.
I slip my feet into my black, thigh-high Louboutin boots that stop below the vipers tail to top off my attire. I click the heels on the ground twice and the mechanisms release the blades from the tips of each boot. The small blades are set like fanged-teeth evenly around the thin points of my boots. Sharp enough to slice through skin and muscle.
This suit is Wynter's best piece that she has crafted for me yet.
"Clever trick." Rowan says from behind me.
I twist in place to face him. He leans against the door frame, a hand tucked in his pocket, biceps bulging from beneath his suit jacket. Even after six years, it is still disconcerting that his stealth for someone so large and built on muscle and strength can move so silently.
I make sure the teeth-like blades slide back into my boots before saying, "You shouldn't be in here."
Rowan moves like a panther through the artillery room, slow and precise, ready to kill at any given moment if the threat becomes known. I lean against the desk, arms crossed, and tracking his movements as he looks in my bag, filled with weapons and tools I'll need for this mission. Then he moves to the wall with heavy fire-arms. My temper rises the more he wanders the length of the room, studying everything.
"You speak like I'm supposed to care." He deadpans.
My jaw aches from how hard I'm clenching it. He's really getting on my last nerve. "It doesn't matter whether you care or not, it's about respecting boundaries." I snap.
"Respect is earned, Castillo, and as far as I'm aware, you haven't earned a single drop of it." He leans his back against a display case across from me. He weaves the star blade he took from it with swift succession between his fingers. "Besides, we're engaged. Consider this my 'self-tour of my future in-laws home'."
