I MARRIED A GANGSTER: [2018 EDITION]

Twenty-Two

We arrived back at the big house two weeks later. The honeymoon consisted of a sex marathon and touring the biggest spots in Venice. I had eaten half of my weight in pasta and gorged on wine. Francesco was already planning my birthday in the next few days. I had to admit, I was on cloud nine after the past few days. He was entirely intoxicating over the entire trip. I couldn't even pick out a highlight of the trip because it all went so well.

Coming back to the house-made everything very real. All the problems Francesco and I tried to force away were going to be rushing at us like a train on the tracks and Francesco made that very obvious when he hurriedly rushed to his office and began talking on his phone.

I gathered all of our bags and made my way to the laundry room, planning on washing them all. Slowly, I began to separate all of the clothes.

I felt just like a housewife.

Or maybe a mob wife?

Once I put the whites in I made my way upstairs to the bedroom and put the suitcase in the closet.

I noticed all of Francesco's clothes arranged perfectly in his closet. For every suit jacket, he had a button-up. For every button-up, he had a tie.

I did notice, however, one of his button-ups was missing. It threw the entire closet off. I was sure that he had packed it, or maybe it was his wedding shirt.

I smile thinking about the wedding.

It had been perfect, everything a girl could dream of. I found myself wandering over to the window and looking at the now-empty garden. The lights remained but they were currently turned off.

She couldn't wait until nighttime to go out there, turn them on, and have a glass of wine under the stars.

How had she been so lucky? She had the man of her dreams, in a big house, and nothing was going wrong.

"What has got you so pensive?"

I was startled by Francesco's voice as he casually strolled into the bedroom and walked up to the window standing next to me. We were both gazing into the backyard, probably reliving the same memory.

"I was thinking about the wedding." I murmur, "That was such a beautiful night."

"That it was." Francesco sighs, "I am happy that it was by our home. You've made me appreciate that lake more than I ever have."

"Being here makes me happy," I mumbled.

Francesco's arm wrapped around my waist and he pulled me closer to him. I could feel the warmth from his body radiating around me, wrapping me up in a cocoon of love.

"You sure? I can plan a trip back to your home. You can visit all of your loved ones." Francesco murmurs, "Especially your tall friend."

"I have more friends than Kayla, you know?" I tease.

"Oh, do you?" Francesco asks sarcastically.

I roll my eyes, "Let's not comment on my social life when all you have in life is your money and your mansion." I turn to look up at my husband who was grinning down at me.

"I have you." He says.

His hands on my waist began to trail downwards to my ass which seemed to be his favorite part of him. He pulls me closer to him and then leans down to kiss me. It was a slow kiss; the same kiss he had always managed to give me when he wanted me. Francesco was not a man who would overtly say if he wanted me. He was more of a take-action kind of man. Ever since the night in Italy on the couch, Francesco had been adamant about me taking charge.