All Chapters of A Bride For The Mafia King : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

CallahanI draw back looking down at her. Sweat trickles down my forehead and falls onto her cheek. She's spent, eyes dazed, mouth slack.The exact effect I was going for.But I'm not finished yet.Taking hold of both her thighs, I straighten, stand to push her legs wide."Callahan," she starts, up on her elbows.I shift my gaze from between her legs, to her eyes, then back. The room smells of sex. Smells of us.And I'm a man starved.I bend my neck, lean down to her.She gasps when I lay the flat of my tongue on her, tasting us together, tasting her. I lick from hole to hole then close my mouth over her hard little nub and suck.All at once, I hear her whimper, feel her fingers pull my hair and her legs quake in my grip. I keep her wide open and suck harder until she comes again. Her body bucks as she cries out my name over and over, breathless and panting.Only when she's still, do I release her.Only when she's still, do I bring my lips to hers and kiss her again, let her taste us

PortiaI'm trying to wrap my brain around Felix Pérez taking over the cartel. Maybe I don't remember him correctly.I was pretty young, I guess. l just can imagine it. He was more like an annoying bug that keeps buzzing by your ear. I remember neither of my parents liked him. But l'm not sure they liked Heathcliff either. I know my mom didn't. She didn't trust him, and my dad didn't trust anyone who wasn't blood.Even though Heathcliff took on the Esmeralda name, he was and always would be an outsider. And Felix marrying Heathcliff's daughter, his niece, meant nothing to my father.I think about that. About only trusting your own blood. That got my father killed. Blood is overrated in this world."Callahan," I start once we're upstairs. "Are you sure about Felix?"He closes the door behind us. “I'm sure of one thing at the moment," he says, unbuttoning my coat and slipping it off. He does the same with his and tosses them over the back of a chair. He spins me so my back is to him and

Portia"Wake up, Portia."I groan, trying to swipe away the hands shaking me."Come on. This is serious."When I register that it's Nathan, I blink my eyes open, rubbing them. He's in Callahan's bedroom and he looks anxious."Hey," I sit up, looking at the clock. Eight in the morning. “You're up early." I pull the covers up. I'm naked underneath."This has been bugging me for days. I wasn't sure and I don't know, maybe I'm wrong but," he stops mid-sentence shaking his head."What is it?"He holds up the small framed photo of Elizabeth Scarfoni and her friend that had captured his attention the day of the wedding.God. That feels like a lifetime ago."What are you doing with that? Did you take it from Elizabeth's room?"He nods."I don't think you should go in there."“I think I know her.”"What? That's impossible, Nathan. She's dead. She's been dead for ten years.""No, not Elizabeth. The other girl."“The other girl?”“I know. It sounds crazy. Do you remember when they first killed m

CallahanMy steps are heavy as I make my way below ground. The flashlight illuminates the path ahead of me, but I don't need it. I know the underground of this house. It's not only the cells that are down here.I bring the bottle of whiskey to my mouth and swallow two mouthfuls as thoughts swim in the chaotic sea of my mind.The voices from that dream. Were they Lenore and Uncle David? I recognize the scent of the aftershave. It's my uncle's. Something he has custom was the other voice Lenore's? What had she said? Why can't I fucking remember what she said?I drink more, the liquid sloshing in the bottle.It's cold down here. And damp. If I close my eyes and stand very still, I swear I can feel the sea pressing against the rock. No. That's not true. Not yet. That only happens in the tunnel.I walk to the farthest cell. The one where Portia's brothers were killed. I shine the light through the bars to see the dark stains in the stone floor. Evidence of their deaths.If my family had go

Portia"What did you mean when you said you just remembered the tunnel?" I ask Callahan, thinking how strange the statement had sounded. We're sitting in a hot bath after the episode downstairs. He's behind me and doesn't answer right away so I turn my head to look at him.He meets my eyes. "I don't remember things.""What do you mean?"He looks thoughtful, far away, his forehead furrowed. "I don't remember things. People," he pauses. "I don't remember them, Portia.""What?"He shakes his head.“I don't understand what you're saying,” I say.“When I woke up, I had no memory of anything before the massacre. Nothing. Like the first seventeen years of my life didn't happen."I feel my forehead wrinkle as I try to follow."I can't remember my own mother."I'm trying to process, trying to make sense of this thing that makes no sense."None of them."Something he said comes back to me then. When he gave me his mother's dress, he made the comment he'd given it to me to see if he'd remember.