All Chapters of Mrs. Martinelli The Perfect Mafia Wife: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

~Rylee~ Huntersville, particularly Klaus’ plantation in summer, is a slice of paradise on earth. Everywhere I glanced as the drive to the villa took place, there was endless green lush scenery. This is heaven for someone who grew up in the mountain town of Big Timber, Montana, and was brought up by a father who was mad crazy about wilderness adventures. I had a hard time adjusting to the city’s busy life, and even now, I still crave being close to nature. Klaus made a complete stop in the middle of the dirt road. I glanced at the driver’s side. Klaus was already sliding out, quickly rounding the hood and opening the door for me. “I want to show you something,” he says, offering a hand. I took it, suppressing the girlish squeal at the chivalrous act. It wasn’t the first time he had done this and won’t be the last either, but I like that he’s being such a gentleman towards me when we’re outside the bedroom and fucks me roughly when we’re inside. Slowly yet surely, Klaus is changing

~Rylee~ A rusty, tattered knife could slice through the tension inside the plane as we crossed the North Atlantic Ocean. There were stolen glances here and there, but no one dared say a word. Seated across from me on the pristine white seat of his private plane, Klaus gapes at the slowly fading darkness of the night, giving way to a new day. Ash and Hunter were facing each other, wearing solemn, worried guises. Kai was fast asleep in the cabin. He finished an entire bottle of vodka just in time for the attendant to finish administering first aid to his broken nose. I was itching to ask Ash what evidence they have against Ghost, still convinced that this was just a big misunderstanding. I would bet my life on it; Ghost would never betray Klaus like this. Arriving at the airport, two SUVs were waiting for us. I silently followed Klaus into the first SUV while Hunter, Ash, and Kai followed behind us. Morocco was beautiful. I’ve been here for a job once, but the drumming inside my che

~Klaus~“Sleep,” Rylee murmured. “Our problem will still be there when we wake up. Don’t worry.”Her infectious giggles drew out a deep chuckle from my chest. She tossed a leg over mine, seeking a comfortable position in my arms.‘God… I’m in love with you, Rose,’ it was there on the tip of my tongue, itching to drawl out as I drew her as close as possible. Something inside me was holding me back; a tiny string with the vigor of an anchor rode, restraining those words from sailing out of my mouth.“Thank you,” I said instead, kissing the top of her head. “For staying when everyone left.”Rylee hummed; her breathing got shallower by the second. “They left not because they hate you, Klaus.”“I know, and that makes me feel shittier about myself. I don’t deserve them.” My throat tightens with guilt. “I don’t deserve you.”If she heard me, she didn’t comment on it. I fell asleep thinking about how my life made a complete 360 shift in two days. ~~Rylee and I landed in Catania hand in hand

~Rylee~‘I love you.’Sure, I heard that cluster of words before. It became meaningless at some point. My boyfriends threw those words so easily for their own gain. To get under my pants, to fool me, and because I’m a sucker for love and affection, I believed them. After Mason, I promised never to let love rule my world again. I’d like to think I am smarter than I was yesterday. But Klaus is changing that. Day by day, he’s weaving his way into the thick protective wall I surrounded my broken heart with. While doing so, he’s slowly yet surely stitching the pieces of my heart back together.There was no need for him to say those words to me. I promised myself to him as long as he needed me, as long as he wanted me.But the way he said it, so sweet and sincere, and the way he gazes at me…. God, he looked so vulnerable. Klaus and vulnerable were opposing words. It’s the last adjective I’d use to describe him.His green eyes traipsed over my face, glazed over with fear and uncertainty.“K

~Rylee~The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree is a proverb that best describes Markus and Klaus. Not only because of their characters, but also with their looks.Same vivid eyes, pointy nose, angular jaws, and even the shape of their lips. Klaus is the spitting image of his father.Sporting a custom-made gray suit, Markus pranced inside the guest room, owning the space with the power and assertiveness he poses. He stopped within hand’s reach; his searing and assessing gaze softened as he smiled at me.“Figlia,” he murmured, tucking his hands in his pants pocket. “How have you been?”Even before they learned I was a spy, Markus had always addressed me that way, ‘daughter’ in his native language. Before, I assumed he wanted a daughter. ‘Who wouldn’t when you have one child who turned out to be as crazy as Klaus Martinelli?’ I supposed, but now, I grasped a better understanding of his longing to have a daughter. He has one, but the situation is complicated.“Sir,” I smiled back, unwar