Marrying the Mobster - Victoria Vale Page 0,58

streak of his semen behind. Marking his territory. Marking me.

“Clean yourself up,” he says while buttoning his shirt. “Take your time. When you come out, I have an announcement to make and I need you by my side for it. You will smile and be gracious. Is that understood?”

I can’t manage words, so I nod and start trying to get to my feet. Diego finishes straightening himself out, and it’s annoying that he still looks so put together after what we just did. He doesn’t even have a hair out of place. While I trudge to the sink and start rinsing my mouth out, Diego looms behind me. I lift my head and meet his stare in the mirror.

“Stay away from Viktor Yezhov. He has a reputation with women that would land him in prison if Oleg weren’t his father.”

I swipe the back of my hand across my lips. “I thought all you mafia guys had the cops in your back pockets.”

Diego grips the back of my neck and wrenches me upright. “This isn’t a game, Elena. If you give that prick an inch, he’ll take a mile and he won’t wait for permission.”

I want to retort that Diego hardly asked me for permission before making me choke on his cock, but I let it go. I was willing and Diego knows it. He also knows that when he’s ready to take more from me, I’ll be willing then, too. My plan aside, it’s pretty obvious that I can’t help but give in when this invisible force exists between us.

The only salvation is for me to get away from him, but that’s becoming harder each day.

After finger-combing my hair and splashing my face with cool water, I leave the bathhouse. Diego is standing near the pool, and it looks like everyone has gathered around to wait for this big announcement. All eyes fall on me, and my steps slow as I approach, suddenly feeling nervous. I want to go back into the bathhouse and hide until they’ve all left. But I can’t do that. I’ve promised to play this role, and I have to see it through if I want to keep all the small freedoms I’ve gained—and perhaps earn a few more.

Diego is holding my cover-up over one arm, and his hands cradle two glasses of what look like champagne. I’m dizzy and disoriented from wondering what the hell is going on, but I move on autopilot, smiling at him as I accept the cover-up and slip it on. At least now no one will see how red and swollen my ass is after that spanking.

Slipping a champagne flute into my hand, Diego touches the small of my back and then kisses my cheek. The look he gives me as he pulls away is heavy with a warning I can’t interpret. I want to scream and shake him, and demand he tell me what the hell he’s doing.

“Thank you all for coming this afternoon,” he says, raising his glass.

The others are holding champagne also—except for the kids. Jovan has a smug smirk on his face and Marcella is giving me questioning looks. I shake my head, just as confused as she is.

“You might wonder why I didn’t choose to do this during a more elegant occasion,” Diego continues. “But I can’t think of a better time than when gathered with the people I care for most and their families. That’s what we are—the Pérezes and the Yezhovs—two families who might soon become one. And so, I’m happy to inform you all that I have asked Elena to marry me … and she has accepted.”

18

Diego

Elena waits until we’ve made it to the bedroom before she unleashes hell on me. I can’t pretend to be surprised. I expected a hissy fit of epic proportions after my surprise. Originally, I hadn’t planned to announce it during the barbecue. My intention had been to throw a cocktail party that would double as a surprise engagement celebration. It would be elegant and refined, and the very least of what a woman deserves when taking such a monumental step.

But Elena isn’t my girlfriend. We aren’t in a loving relationship, and this marriage will happen whether she wants it or not. There was no way for me to do it without upsetting her, so I felt no need to wait—especially after Viktor crossed the line. I nearly lost control in front of the entire party, but luckily made it to the bathhouse before venting my frustration

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