Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 109882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“Is everything okay?” She sat up, probably instantly able to see the change in me.
I didn’t know what to say at first despite the fact that I had the words right on the tip of my tongue.
Just fucking say it. Be a man. Tell her how you feel and what you want.
So I took a deep breath and just went for it.
“Marry me. Let’s make this legal.” My heart was in my throat, and the seconds that ticked by with her being silent, the more worry filled me. Fuck, I’d never been this nervous before. “Although, the fucking truth is, I’ll never let you go, married or not. But I want you as my wife, as my old lady, the mother of my babies, Poppy. I want you as my family, irrevocably.” She was all of that and more. And I didn’t need a fucking legal piece of paper to say that, but shit, I wanted it.
“Marriage?” Her eyes were as wide as saucers.
I cleared my throat and nodded, trying to act like I had my shit together. “Yeah.” Fuck, was that my voice? “I want to marry you, Poppy. I want you to be my wife.” Shit, I wasn’t doing this right.
I got out of bed and walked over to my cut, pulling out the ring box I’d tucked into the inner pocket three months ago. I kept it with me at all times, this reminder of what I wanted to do, but worried I’d fuck things up.
I got back in bed, Poppy already sitting up with the sheet pulled to her chin, her eyes still wide. She lowered her gaze to the box I held, and when I popped the lid, showed her the diamond ring, I felt like time fucking stood still.
“I have no fucking clue what I’m doing here, baby.” I was starting to sweat from my nerves. “But I’ve been carrying this ring around for three months, Poppy.” She still hadn’t said anything, and there was a part of me that worried, thinking she’d say this had been a big mistake.
But I knew she loved me. Then again, she was so damn young. She had her whole life ahead of her. Who said just because she loved me that she wanted to be my wife, to be with me for the long haul?
I was starting to doubt myself, about to close the box and apologize, because I didn’t want to ruin things, didn’t want to make it worse, when I felt her hand on mine. I lifted my gaze to hers, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.
“If me asking you has ruined shit, can we just forget about it? Can we just pretend it never happened?” Hell, I would’ve begged, pleaded. I’d never done that in my entire life. But I didn’t want to ruin shit with Poppy.
And then before I knew what was happening, she flung herself into my arms. I fell back on the bed, her naked body on mine, the sheet slipping down to now pool at her waist. She kissed all over my face, and I couldn’t help but grin, chuckling.
“Yes, Butcher. Yes, I’ll marry you.” And then she kissed me on the lips, and I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around her, the ring box still in one hand, my other arm wrapped tightly around her, keeping her to me.
She rose up slightly, the grin on her face enough to make me fall to my knees if I’d been standing up. This woman was my everything. She was my world.
“You sure you’re ready to be hitched to a biker like me?” I slid my hand along her back and over her shoulder, trailing my fingers up the side of her neck to cup her cheek. I smoothed my thumb along her soft skin, marveling at the fact that I was such a lucky fucking bastard.
She sobered slightly and my heart skipped a beat. Poppy leaned down and pressed her lips to mine, and when she pulled back, I saw my life right before me. I saw my future.
“There’s nothing more I’ve ever wanted. And that’s the truth.”
Damn, so this was what being happy and complete felt like.
The End.
MATCHED TO THE MAFIA
By Jenika Snow
www.JenikaSnow.com
Photographer and image provided by: Regina Wamba
Cover Model: Abby Elizabeth
Cover design by: Lori Jackson
Editors: Kayla Robichaux
Proof Reader: All Encompassing Books
Beta Reader: Judy Ann Loves Books
I wasn't a good man. Not by society standards, and certainly not by the bare minimum. When people heard my name—Enzo Santini—it wrought fear and respect.
I did horrible, violent things, all in the name of power, all because I was the Capo of the Los Angeles Italian crime syndicate known as The Family.
The mafia.
But because of my status, the next step for me should’ve been to get a wife and produce heirs. It's what the men in my world did to secure even more power, to be stronger. But I’d never had the need to do what was expected of me. And listening to others had never been who or what I was. It was one of the reasons I was as powerful as I was.