The Marriage Debt (De Vos Mafia #2)(37)

“We’re going out Saturday.”

Out? As in, outside the penthouse, together?

My heart starts to palpitate.

Out together in public … with him.

Luca De Vos.

My husband.

The one guy who wants nothing more than for the world to know I belong to him.

Oh, God.

His fingers clench around my chin, and he pulls me in to plant a kiss on my cheek, his lips slowly sliding sideways as he turns my head to whisper, “And if you behave … I might give you what you want.”

“Freedom?” I mutter.

“A chance to see Jasmine.”

My eyes widen as my heart almost comes to a stop.

Then he pulls away and winks. “I’ll have Lita bring you what you need to prepare.”

What I need to prepare?

Before I can ask what he means, he walks out and closes the door behind him, locking it away just like I’ve done to my heart. But I’ll stay low, keep my head down, make him think I’ve become easy just for the sake of more freedom.

And then … when he least expects it, I’ll run.





Chapter 16





Luca



* * *



Friday



* * *



“I didn’t know exactly what kind of fabrics you meant, sir, but I tried my best and bought what they had available at the market,” Lita says. She puts down a bunch of bags on the table and shows them to me. “You said not to spare.”

“Thank you, Lita,” I reply, inspecting the fabrics.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t have just bought a few dresses instead?”

I throw her a stern look.

“Sorry, sir. I don’t mean to question you,” she adds.

“Jill will be happy with this,” I say. “Bring it to her.”

Lita nods and takes the bags off the table while I sit back and watch the door Jill is trapped behind with a smile on my face.

I need to make her happy? Fine, I’ll make her fucking happy.



Jill



* * *



When there’s a knock on my door, my eyes light up. “Come in.” I don’t even wait to say it. That’s how starved I am of connection.

But when I see Lita’s face, my smile dissipates.

“Sorry to sour your mood,” she says, laughing.

“No, no, you’re amazing. I’m glad you’re here,” I say, getting off the bed. “I was just expecting—”

“Someone else,” she fills in for me with a wink. “I get it.”

A blush creeps onto my face. “No, no, not like that.”

“Of course, honey,” she muses. “I don’t judge.”

Oh, God. Why does that make me blush even more?

Stop it, just stop, Jill.

Lita puts some bags on the table in the room.

“What is it?” I ask, curiously stepping closer.

“Go ahead. Take a look,” she says, proudly standing to the side with her hands against her side.

When I open the bags, my jaw drops and my heart skips a beat. The most beautiful fabrics are inside, and I can’t stop myself from taking them out and touching them. “Oh my God, these are beautiful! Where did you get these?”

“It took me a while to find the right shop. But I’m good with finding pretty much anything he asks for.”

“He …?” I mutter. “Luca asked for this?”

She nods and walks out of the room, only to come back with a sewing machine. “I picked this up too from the market.”

“Wow.” I watch her put it on the table, and I can’t stop myself from touching that too. It’s vintage but workable. And it even came with all the supplies I’d need to …

“But why?” I ask, turning my head.

“He wants you to make your own dress.”

My own dress?

My face lights up at the thought.

I used to love making clothes. It’s all I ever did when I was young and even when I worked for Easton.

She places a hand on my shoulder. “He wants it ready by tomorrow.”

A-ha. So it’s a challenge.

“Are we going somewhere special?” I ask.

Lita shrugs. “I don’t know. Ask him. I’m just the girl who cleans and runs errands for him.” She laughs. “Anyway, if you need anything else, just tell him, and he’ll send me to get it.”

I sit down behind the sewing machine, feeling a little overwhelmed at all of this.

“Lita,” I say as she opens the door. “Thanks. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

She smiles. “I’m glad you like it, but … thank him. It was his idea.”

She exits the room, leaving me to do my thing.

But all I can do is stare at the beautiful fabrics in front of me and all the ways I can make the perfect dress. I don’t care that it’s probably because Luca wants to show me off. Because doing this beats watching television by a million miles.

My face turns red at the thought that he did this all for me. I’m glad no one is here to see it.

It feels like a challenge.

“Well, challenge fucking accepted, husband.”