Page 82 of Tempting My Mafia Monster

“They tell me you don’t talk much, especially to strangers.”

It wasn’t a question, so I gave him nothing.

“That’s fine with me, too. I don’t need a wife who talks.”

I scoffed. I couldn’t help it. It seemed one good thing had come out of the mess of my life. My anxiety about what people thought of me had gone with the wind. I really couldn’t give a fuck anymore.

“I need an heir. Mainly. My father will not hand our empire over to me until I’m married and have an heir. That is how it is in Russia.”

My stomach tightened. As if to mock me for thinking I could shut off my emotions and do this, my anxiety reared its ugly head. An heir. He expected me to have his baby, and quickly, from the way he was talking. I felt sick.

“Marriage is a duty,” he continued, filling the silence. “An obligation. You understand?”

In other words, this was a business transaction. He helps my family, and in return, I give him a son. There would be no romance or love between us. We reached the mansion again, and he turned to face me.

“I heard you have been through a…” he searched for the word. “Difficult time. I will wait, but not for too long. Your family gave us their word. If there is no wedding, I do not need to tell you that they will be the ones to suffer.”

I rolled my tongue over my teeth at the threat. I met his sapphire eyes and inhaled, then forced the words up my throat with difficulty. “I–I’ll agree to this marriage… on one condition.”

His lips twitched as if he found it amusing that I would have any say in the matter.

“I-I will marry you w-when I have confirmation that Sean McKenna is dead, or I’ve killed him myself. I will not go to Russia if there’s any possibility he’s still alive.”

He licked his lips, contemplating it. If he were surprised, he didn’t show it. He stepped closer, forcing me to crane my neck or step back. I stood my ground. He removed his sunglasses and stared into my eyes. There was no emotion in them. Nothing but indifference.

“Marry me, and I’ll cook him as the main course for the wedding guests, carving the meat from his flesh while he still breathes. I’ll make a show of his death and let you pluck out his heart for dessert. But only after you say I do.”

My eyes widened. That was creative. “Why would you do that? I thought you were allies.”

“In Russia, we have a saying. Любой дурак может предупредить мужчину не трогать его жену. Настоящий муж делает так, чтобы тот, кто коснулся её первым, стал последним.”

I stared at him, not understanding a word because I had never gotten around to learning the language.

“Any fool can warn a man not to touch his wife. A real husband makes sure the man who touched her first becomes the last.”

He dipped his head and left me standing at the door, striding to his car, where his men were all waiting. He climbed in without a second glance.

Sani came to stand beside me as we watched the cars drive off. “Do I dare ask?”

“Pretty sure he’s a psychopath,” I replied.

“You don’t have to do this, Raya.”

“Except we both know I do.”

“Raya–”

“Don’t, Sani. I won’t be your problem much longer. I’ll be his. Please, just go back to Rome and leave me alone.”

I stormed past him and back into the house.

Memories

One week earlier…

“Life is precious, son. A delicate gift. Do ya know why?”

“Because it can be taken away in an instant.”