energetic warmth. I eased back enough to capture her gaze.
“In response to your earlier comment. No one else’s opinions matter, and divorce isn’t an option. As a matter of fact, you can delete the word from your vocabulary. You’re stuck with me, forever.”
Her reply was a lingering peck on my cheek, which was all the confirmation I needed that we were in this for the long haul.
The blaring sound of the city and the sight of its energetic view were all cast away as nothing more than background music. Mecca was all I cared about seeing, and her voice the only sound I cared about hearing.
I took the hand she reached out and helped her from the car. Ron, my driver, no longer bothered coming around to open Mecca’s door. I had told him, unless I wasn’t there, I would be the one to help her out of the car.
A great sense of pride had overtaken me while I strolled along the paved path to the restaurant with Mecca at my side. Automatically, my hand was at her back, as I had accepted that I was unable to keep my hands off her.
For me, she was the most beautiful thing I had laid eyes on. That she was smart and deadly enough to handle the type of lifestyle I lived was a bonus. I leaned in her direction.
“Have I mentioned how gorgeous you are?”
“Thank you, husband.”
That smile. She made me forget that we were about to enter a room full of old relics that would pay anyone willing, to put a bullet in my head.
“Here we go,” I whispered.
“Here we go,” she repeated with an unbothered expression on her lovely face.
The host opened the door and ushered us in, presenting a slight bow and hand gesture. Elegantly set tables, perfect white linens, and eyes: surprise, awe, curiosity, and every other emotion was reflected in the group’s watchful stares as silence came alive and entombed their movements.
New sets of eyes locked on us as they framed us to their psyche, no doubt forming opinions, speculating, and making determinations without facts. The volume of their mental scrutiny grew more intense with each step we took. The group of about twenty couples ranged in ages from thirty to seventy-eight, the eldest man having the youngest wife.
Mecca walked beside me with her head held high, her arm looped through mine. Some welcomed us with head nods and lifted wine glasses pointed in our direction. We returned the gestures with pleasant smiles and friendly nods of our own.
Low murmurs found their way to us, but I was unable to decipher anything specific. Once we reached our table, I assisted Mecca into her chair before taking mine.
“I expected this to be dinner, us sitting around someone’s kitchen table. This is a full-on dinner party.” Her words breezed between her lips.
“Something like that,” I returned.
Our table sat in the center of one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city. They had rented out the place for our dinner party. Thankfully, whoever coordinated the event respected that I wasn’t going to put my back to the entrance, or anyone else for that matter.
They had rearranged the place so that our table sat at the far wall and allowed us a view of everyone in attendance, as well as the front door. A brick wall sat at our backs. A large table sat off to our right, overflowing with gift bags and boxes with more boxes stacked under the table. The envelopes were no doubt stuffed with money. Ass-kissing was a sport that would never die, but I already had plans to donate everything they had given us, to charity.
Stanford ‘Stan’ Wallace, was the first to stand, and expectantly so. He was the first to protest when I had taken over for my father. He did a good job of appearing innocent, but I knew he had made a few attempts to stir up trouble, even made a few attempts on my life.
The only reason he wasn’t dead was because I hadn’t decided to kill him yet. There were still a few things I needed from him. His attempts on my life had never succeeded or gotten past my secret weapon—Khane.
The rest of the guests quieted as Stan presented a fake smile and lifted his glass to make a toast. “Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Vallin.”
A rounds of claps sounded along with welcomes and hellos, and I swore I heard the fakeness in their applause. This party was nothing