The Sweetest Oblivion (Made, #1)(115)

“I’d rather call the whole thing off. I don’t like dropping you off at your parents’.”

“Why?”

“I don’t trust your papà.”

“He’s your father-in-law now, Nico. You’ll have to learn how to get along.”

He let out a breath of amusement, running his hand through his hair. “I seem to be getting a whole lot of baggage with you, woman.”

I frowned.

His heavy gaze burned mine. “Nobody touches you, Elena, no matter what you do tonight. Do you understand me?”

“Nobody touches you,” I shot back.

We stared at each other for a moment, the realization of how deep we were both in sweeping into the room. Amusing, as we were married, but also thrilling in its possessiveness and need. He was mine, and nobody else could have him.

“Sounds like we’ve got a deal,” he drawled, before yanking me closer by the ankle and climbing on top of me. Happiness filled my chest like a balloon, and I wondered if you could love someone so much you’d burst.





Nico’s car had been idling in front of my parents’ place for a solid two minutes now, while he sat in the driver’s seat, tense and silent. I reached for my door handle, but he pressed the lock button before I could open it.

“Nico, we can’t sit in here forever,” I sighed.

His gaze met mine. “Screw the parties. Let’s go home. I’ll fuck you nice and slow all night long.”

Amusement bubbled up my throat. “You have a romantic way with words.”

He ran a hand across his mouth. “Who did you say was taking you?”

“Dominic, and the two men you’re secretly putting outside the club.”

A small smile pulled on his lips. “You’re nosy.”

“You talk loudly on the phone.”

“You got money?”

“Yes.”

“Your cell phone?”

“Yes,” I said, “though I don’t know why I needed a new one.”

He lifted a shoulder. Maybe it had been easier to buy a new one than to go home and get mine. We hadn’t been back to the house today, having stayed at the penthouse until now. I still had to find something to wear tonight, though most of my clothes were here at my parents’, anyway.

Benito came out to stand on the porch and Nico’s eyes narrowed on him. “You gonna break the news that we’re married?”

“Yes, I’ll make sure everyone knows I’m legally bound to Nicolas Russo.”

His amused gaze came my way. “Never thought my wife would have such a smart mouth.”

“Is it disappointing?”

His hand slid around the back of my neck and pulled my face to his. “There could be worse things.” He kissed me deep and slow. “You gonna have a fun time tonight?”

“Maybe,” I whispered against his lips. “But I’ll be missing you more.”

“Damn,” he drawled. “You’re sweet when you aren’t stealing from me.”

I flushed. “Are you going to let me get a job and pay you back?”

He laughed. “Do you know how much you stole? It would take you twenty years at best.”

“Well . . . I’m not going anywhere, am I?”

His gaze burned. “No. I think I’ll keep you.”

“Nico . . .” I swallowed. “I really am sorry about the money—”

“Don’t be. I’m impressed,” he said, amusement coating his voice. “There might be a little Russo in you yet.”





I knocked softly on the doorframe and cleared my throat. “Hi, Papà.”

He glanced up from the paperwork on his desk with an unreadable expression. “I hear you’ve gotten married.”

Everyone on the block must have heard it with how loud Mamma had screeched when she saw my ring. It wasn’t an ecstatic screech either—more like a horrified acquiescence.

I shifted in the doorway. “Yes.”

“He didn’t ask me if he could push the wedding up,” Papà grunted.

“You didn’t ask me before selling me to Oscar Perez.” My heart raced once the heated words passed my lips. I didn’t believe I’d ever have the courage to talk back to my father, no matter what he said or did.

His jaw ticked, but he only shuffled through some papers. “I didn’t sell you. You know how this life works, Elena. If you lived on the Outside and got to make all your own decisions, you’d never last. They’d chew a girl like you up and spit you out. I was trying to protect you.”

My father’s vision for my happiness and well-being were so skewed I knew we’d never agree on a thing, so as asinine as I believed his beliefs were, I dropped it.

“I don’t want there to be issues between you and my husband.”

He scoffed.

“Why do you dislike him?” I sighed.

“He’s a hothead and a cheat.”

I opened my mouth to disagree but then closed it. It was a little hard to dispute.

“He sees something he wants, and he takes it—just like his papà. I fucking knew I shouldn’t have let him see you until he married your sister.”