The Gangster's Wife

Chapter Seven

G A B R I E L L A

Three weeks she'd been married. 

Three weeks of strange wedded bliss.

How was it even possible?

Gabriella sipped at her coffee. Her body was still recovering from the previous night's sexathon they'd enjoyed. How could it be that in less than a month, she'd gone from hating her marriage to being with someone else and actually enjoying it?

There were moments she hated the handsome stranger. When she snuck off to work the morning after their night club sex, he had come into the realtor's office, got her over his shoulder, and before she could even so much as protest too much, they were in his car and her job was gone. The only job she had was to satisfy him. That was what he told her. Egotistical asshole.

Then, of course, were the women who pretty much tried to throw themselves at him. They'd been at a restaurant and the waitress had discretely handed him her phone number. What had he done? Got up and shoved it right back into her hand.

Deep down, she shouldn't be annoyed with how he had reacted to the phone number, especially as he literally forced the woman to look at her and told her not-too-subtly she was his wife and there was no way he was stepping out on her. He had even got her to apologize for being a first class bitch and trying to steal her man. What kind of person did that?

She just couldn't believe her life had taken this turn. Sam had collected numbers. 

Screw Sam.

"I thought you'd snuck off again," Vincent said, coming up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing kisses to her neck before snagging her cup of coffee. "Ugh, instant. How do you drink this shit?"

She chuckled, "Us mere mortals know how to survive on this shit."

"I love it when you talk dirty," Another kiss on her neck and he disappeared into the kitchen. She'd been standing in the entryway to the sitting room. There was no way she'd get close to the windows. It scared her too fucking much. Heights were her nemesis. "Do you want something to eat?" He asked.

Moving toward the kitchen, she watched him brew his own coffee. "You can cook?"

"Yeah," he said.

"And it's not ordering from one of your many places?" She'd come to learn Vincent was one-of-many places kind of guy. Whoever he was, he wasn't always legal. She'd come to see that within the first week.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"I've come to read you, Gabriella. That's not nothing."

"I'm realizing that I don't know a whole lot about you and you are supposed to be my husband" She nibbled on her lip. "Sorry."

She watched his inked hands as they lay flat on the counter and he leaned forward. "You know, if you want to get to know someone, most people just ask."

She scoffed. "What? Just ask you?"

"Gabriella, you are my wife. I like to think that in the short time we've been together, I've proven to you I want this marriage to work. What I do, you're not going to like, but I've got a feeling you're also loyal."

"You don't know me," she said.

"Actually, I do. I know deep down you're a good person and the shit you know about me scares you. Or at least, what you don't know about me scared you. Grow some balls and ask me. If you're ready, that it." He said.

She gritted her teeth and shook her head. "I'll have whatever you are making."

"You are going to chicken out. You don't want to know?"

"I didn't ask for any of this." She snapped.

"You asked for this the moment you married Sam and wanted to divorce him." He stepped around the counter. "I know every single time I get my hands on you, you can't believe just how fucking how this is." 

He grabbed the belt of her robe, opening it up. "Even now as you want to hit me, you're also wet and begging for my touch. It's what you want." He cupped her hip.

She was completely naked beneath the robe. He didn't believe in clothes to bed and any she did wear, he often got rid of them by ruining them. It wasn't like she missed wearing pyjamas. 

Gabriella cried out as his hand touched her pussy. He slid a finger inside her and he groaned.

"You have no idea how hard it is to resist fucking you. I'm hard as rock right now, but I need you to get dressed. I've got places I need to be and it's important. You're not going to like the truth about me, Gabriella. I'm not a nice guy. I don't play by the rules and I never will."

He kissed the corner of her mouth. "But you are my wife. I respect you and I'll treat you right. You got anything you have to say or ask, do it. I won't bite, unless of course it's what you want me to do." He pulled his fingers from her, licking them clean. "Go."

She took a shaky step away from him, going to their bedroom. A suit was already waiting for her. It was ironic to her that he'd pulled out a pair of cream pants, a white blouse, and a cream jacket. Heels complemented the ensemble. 

Not once did Vincent mention love. It was stupid of her to still be thinking of love. What kind of woman changed men within hours and still wanted love?

Wrapping her arms around herself, she felt weak, pathetic, and above all else, somewhat hopeful that there was a chance for her and Vincent.

Stop it. Stop it.

Love is for children.

There were no panties; of course there weren't. She quickly got dressed but the love question was still in the back of her mind.