Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
At least I hoped he was.
The exchange did break the ice, because afterward, the three of them slid into conversation about how Row didn’t really even cook for the event, only helmed the staff that was working there. “Taylor’s handling the entire operation and pocketing fifty percent of it. The kid’s a wiz,” Row said warmly about his sous-chef.
My mind drifted elsewhere. A few minutes passed before I felt my husband shift toward me.
“What’s going on in that hectic mind of yours?”
“If we were to have children—and we won’t, but if we did…” I trailed off.
“Yes?” He tilted an eyebrow.
“Our kids would be biracial,” I said, gnawing on my lip.
He stared at me flatly. “I’m well aware of that.”
“Are you sure you’re prepared for that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because it’s…well, different.” I clutched the trimmed hem of my dress, fumbling with it. “No matter how intelligent, beautiful, well-spoken, filthy rich, and powerful they’d be, sooner or later, they’d face prejudice and difficult moments. We’d have to have the gut-wrenching, frank conversations.”
“I am nothing if not fucking truthful.” He scanned me, then added, “Does it bother you?”
It didn’t. I was proud of my heritage and was excited for my children to be a part of it. But I wanted to make sure he knew what he was getting into. “And you?”
“No. Then again, I’ve never had to walk a day in your shoes.”
This simple acknowledgement encouraged me. Tate’s childhood seemed far from perfect, and I knew he had a humble beginning, but he never looked different.
“Diversity is not very common in your circles,” I said matter-of-factly.
“It’s becoming more common than you think. Even if it wasn’t, ignorance is a terrible reason not to do something.” He was quiet for a moment. “Besides, they’ll have you.”
“One person is not enough.”
“One person is more than enough, when it’s the right one.”
Liquid heat filled my chest, and something dangerously close to deep affection took over me. “I reckon any woman—any mother—of a child who is a person of color needs to come to terms with the fact that she must be a lioness. You have to advocate for them more, always have your finger on the pulse. I think, for a lot of children, evil is an abstract concept. But for children who must know history well, whose grandparents experienced atrocious inequalities, evil is just another facet of human nature. The world can be a very unkind place.”
“If the world is cruel to them,” he said wryly, finding my fingers across the seat, lacing them with his so I’d stop fumbling, “I will be crueler. You can quote me on that.”
Row and Cal were now talking animatedly between themselves, paying us no heed. I dropped my voice to a whisper, “Do you think if we had kids, you’d be able to love them?”
He considered my words. “If I could feel love…I think I’d love the hell out of our kids.”
The limo pulled in front of the hotel, and we poured out.
I shielded Gia until we were well inside the ballroom, not taking any chances. Vello was the boss. This Callaghan fuck would never dare touch one of his guests in his territory. Row and That Thing finally fucked off to the kitchens, and I was able to tap my numbers in my pocket, thusly calming my quick heart rate.
Gia and I were immediately surrounded by ass-kissers, wishing to congratulate us on our nuptials.
I let my wife do the talking. She was good at peopling. By contrast, I was good at unpeopling. This yin and yang situation reminded me that I needed to put a stop to the killing spree as soon as I was done avenging Daniel. This killing people shit was addictive. I half understood why Achilles, Luca, and Enzo were married to their jobs.
I still bathed in the aftermath of fucking Gia. I planned to do it at least until my dick fell off. I’d happily try to override the 98 percent effectiveness of birth control by constantly copulating.
Scanning the room for potential security breaches, my eyes landed on Achilles. He seemed in good spirits, joking and mingling with underbosses in the corner of the room. The hideous motherfucker should know better than to gloat. He was next in line, surely. Vello was going to marry all his deranged sons off before he picked a successor.
Speaking of the big boss, Vello stood a few feet away from his son with his wife, Chiara, by his side, chatting with President Wolfe Keaton and his wife, Francesca. Not only a president but plenty of senators, congresspeople, and billionaires rounded out the list of attendees. The turnout was impressive, and I barely stood out.
Francesca had a belly full of baby under her lacey dress, and Wolfe reached to splay his fingers over the bump, stroking it absentmindedly as he no doubt pretended to give a shit about whatever Vello had to say.