Monster: A Dark Arranged Marriage Romance

by Vanessa Waltz

  I breathed.

  “Now you know the man you married.”

  And she’d leave me.

  I braced for it as Evie’s gaze clouded with tears. Heaviness centered on my chest as I prepared for a stinging response. Then she smiled.

  “I understand you completely. And I love you even more.” Evie’s trembling lips slowly broke into a sweet smile. “I love you. All of you. Every flaw. Even the parts of you that you think are too dark.”

  I pinned her to my chest, overwhelmed. “Are you really pregnant?”

  She lightly grasped my cheek, nodding.

  It struck home, finally. “You don’t know how fucking happy you’ve made me.”

  My heart hammered as she wrapped her arms around my blood-soaked chest. She smashed her mouth into mine, gripping my hair. The pit of my stomach churned. I growled before I caught her lips. Her soft mouth demanded a harsher response, so I angled my head and deepened the kiss. Spirals of joy swept through me.

  I had my doubts, but fuck them. She loved me despite the graveyard of my victims. If she didn’t leave me for them, she would never leave me. We would make it through anything. There wasn’t enough darkness in the world to blacken this shining moment.

  The door flew open.

  Vinn stepped out. His widened gaze took in the carnage and narrowed on me.

  “Jesus Christ. What happened?”

  Thirty-Three

  Evie

  Six Months Later

  I’m grateful our baby is healthy.

  Tony rolled onto his stomach.

  He lay beside me, out cold, his nakedness on full display. Heat stole into my face as my eyes raked over his devastating appeal. A sliver of light peeked through the curtains, stroking his muscled shoulders, gorgeous back dimples, and steel thighs. His wild hair stuck out in all directions, untamed, just like the rest of him. Saturating the sheets and filling my lungs like a pleasant steam was vanilla scent mingled with pure masculinity.

  He was so close, the heat of his body burning mine. At the base of my throat, a pulse beat and swelled. I buried my face in his neck and breathed a kiss. My body ached in all the places he’d filled last night.

  My pulse skittered at the sight of my husband’s strong, olive-skinned body. Even in sleep, the ghost of a Viking warrior clung to him. He flipped over with a deep sigh, his arm flopping over my waist. It flexed, anchoring over my baby bump. Then he pulled me into his steel embrace, burrowing me against his chest where his mouth found my shoulder in a lazy kiss.

  Since the clubhouse, I never woke up without him. He’d changed so much in those six months, embracing the role of soon-to-be father so enthusiastically, it was hard to believe he’d once told me he never wanted children.

  Shortly after the disaster at the clubhouse, we went to Italy for a belated honeymoon. I needed distance from the chaos. My father’s imprisonment was the death knell on the Boston chapter. The national president shut down the club after it was raided by Vinn’s soldiers.

  We bought a house blocks away from his cousins, Vinn and Michael. The area had good schools, an amazing park, and all the amenities I’d wanted as a kid. My favorite part of those first weeks was breaking the news to Tony’s mother.

  The baby was getting more and more real. I caught Tony staring at the sonogram, which he’d taken a picture of and saved on his phone. He looked at it as though bewildered by its existence.

  “Honey, wake up. I have a present for you.”

  Tony made a noise, his voice husky with sleep.

  “I got you something for our one-year anniversary.”

  I rolled over and grabbed the box from the nightstand, pushing it into Tony’s hands. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. A bemused grin tugged at his full lips as he unwrapped the silver paper.

  “You got me jewelry?” He popped open the felt box and gasped. “Holy shit. I remember this.”

  Tony gaped at the gleaming rose-gold watch he’d offered to buy ages ago. He splayed it on his olive skin and closed the clasp, admiring it on his wrist.

  “You can’t give this to me.”

  “I’ll do whatever I want,” I murmured, kissing his naked shoulder. “Do you like it?”

  “I fucking love it. It’s awesome.” Tony leaned over and pressed his mouth to my temple. “Thank you.”

  “Check the back.”

  He took it off and flipped it over, beaming. His thumb traced the words etched on the gold.

  Resta con me per sempre.

  - Evie

  “So you figured it out.”

  I pursed my lips. “I said it to Christian while visiting him.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yeah. I wanted to see how he’d react. He got super quiet. Then he told me what it really meant.” I put my hands on my hips, my mouth thinning. “Stay with me forever.”

  Tony chuckled. “Awkward.”

  “Tell me about it. I had to backpedal hard and convince him that I did not have a crush on him—with Jen in the room, so thanks for that.”

  Tony’s booming laughter filled the bedroom.

  Christian had made a shaky recovery and Jennesy still visited him in rehab, and it filled my heart to watch them together. She’d been forced to leave the club’s property when the national president put it up for sale, but Tony and I set up a fund so that none of the women were homeless.

  “I’m hiring a new teacher,” I told Tony. “You’re a saboteur.”

  “Oh, come on.”

  “I am. Our kid will speak broken Italian if I don’t get a handle on this.”

  “It’ll be fine.” He wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. “I’ll talk to him only in Italian. So will my mom. You can speak to him in English.”

  “I want him to have Italian lessons, too.”

  “No way, hon. He’s going to public school. No extra classes. No dancing. He’ll be so much happier for it.”

  “Tony.”

  “I’m not budging on this.”

  I released a frustrated sigh, annoyed that we couldn’t find common ground. We couldn’t decide on a name and had different visions for our son’s future. I wanted to give him every opportunity to excel, but Tony was adamant that public schooling would keep him grounded.

  I slid off the bed and wrapped myself in a robe, grumbling all the way to the breakfast bar.

  Tony, following close behind, balled me in a fierce hug that squeezed the breath from my lungs.

  “I have a present for you, too.”

  I looked for it, but he shook his head.

  “Get dressed.”

  Half an hour later, we rode in an elevator of a luxury hotel. I played with Tony’s lapels and kissed his firm mouth, which barely yielded to my touch. He was fidgety. His eyes shifted from the door to me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was nervous.

  “Is everything okay?”

  He took my hand, his palm clammy. “Evie, there’s one thing I never told you. I found out something months ago and kept it to myself.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Me? Nothing. It’s what your father did.”

  I stared at him, bewildered. I hadn’t seen my dad in months. His lawyers tried to contact me for his defense, but I told them to fuck off. His human trafficking trial loomed over my head. He used me to help him, and it was possible the investigation could zero in on me.

  “Do we have to talk about this right now?”

  “Yes,” he said, pulling me into the hallway. “Trust me, you want to see what’s behind this door.”

  My stomach fluttered as he stopped me in front of a room, more worried than I’d ever seen him.

  His mouth whitened as he slashed the card through the keypad. It beeped, unlocking the door.

  Then it swung inward.

  Grim-faced, Tony nudged me inside. I strolled onto the carpet and gaped at the woman on the queen-sized bed. She wore a beige cardigan over a light purple tank top.

  “Mom?”

  She sprang off the mattress and we cr
ashed into each other’s arms. Wild sobbing burst from her as she clung to my shoulders, wrapping me in her lilac scent.

  All the questions could wait.

  I had my family back.

  Epilogue

  Tony

  Four Years Later

  How did I get here?

  Tightness clawed my throat as I folded my son’s side-snap bodysuit and packed it in a suitcase. Tristan had grown out of it. So had Massimo. Neither of my boys would ever fit in them again, and that resonated inside me with a beautiful, awful pain. Wrapping up something that was my whole world was hard.

  Four years had gone by.

  We’d spent the weekend at Vinn’s beach house after a frenzied afternoon of celebrating his son’s third birthday, and this was our last night. Nostalgia made me pack Tristan’s baby clothes, and now they didn’t fit on either of my boys.

  The whole gang packed the house. I barely got a minute of shut-eye without Michael’s children thundering the stairs, but I liked the noise. I’d missed my dad’s big family reunions.

  Our fifteen-month-old, Massimo, sat on the rug, banging the wrong end of a drumstick into the wooden toy. He was my mini-me, identical to me in every way. He offered the stick to Tristan, who shook his head. Massimo seized the edge of the couch and lifted himself. He headed toward me, grinning. This kid would crawl through a bed of nails to reach me.

  I set him on my lap. “Want to read a book?”

  He shook his head.

  “Want num-nums?”

  He shook his head, pointing at someone’s beer glass.

  I shoved it way out of reach. “Kid, you scare me sometimes.”

  Actually, he gave me heart attacks on a regular basis. Probably because my world would end if anything bad ever happened to him. I took his hands, and his fists closed on my fingers as he walked forward purposely. I bent over and let him run toward Vinn’s dog, a golden retriever with a saintlike patience with children.

  Evie took over watching Tristan as I expended Massimo’s limitless energy on the beach. Massimo slapped my cheeks with wet sand. His face lit up in fiendish delight when I groaned.

  I wiped it off as Evie softly chided him.

  “Massimo, don’t do that to Daddy.”

  “Swear to God, I was not this much of a pain in the ass as a baby.”

  Evie chuckled softly. “Your mom says you threw tantrums all the time. Sometimes, you’d get so upset you’d vomit and pass out.”

  “Good Lord. Is that what we’re in for?”

  Evie shrugged.

  I worried about the similarities constantly. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my life as it was in the moment, but the weight of being a parent got worse as the kids grew older. Tristan had been an easy baby. Calm as hell. Always happy. A deceptive introduction to parenthood.

  Massimo was another story.

  My back ached from allowing my toddler to steer me around the beach, toward rushing waves that meant certain death for him.

  I picked him up and set him away.

  Massimo sprinted back to the water.

  “You can’t go in the ocean, buddy,” I growled as he let out an earsplitting cry. “I said no. Why are you’re so stubborn?”

  I lifted him to the sky and made airplane noises, and then I let him plunge down. He squealed and pumped his fists as I did it again. When the sun made the water shimmer like orange glass, we strolled back to Vinn’s beach house.

  It was packed with kids settling down for Sunday dinner. Mom and Zia Lena ladled gravy onto plates. I squeezed past them. Massimo pointed at Mom, beaming.

  “Vuoi andare da la tua nonna?”

  He nodded.

  “Ma, can you feed him for me?”

  I transferred him to Mom’s lap, and she wasted no time in coaxing my son into eating. At least he wasn’t difficult about that. I waved to my mother-in-law, who sat beside Mom. Then I passed the table and strolled into the kitchen, where Michael stood at the stove with his sister, Liana.

  “That’s not how you do it!” he shouted, banging the pot with the tongs. “You need to salt the water. Then you add butter after you drain the pasta.”

  Liana rolled her eyes and pinched his stomach. “You don’t need more butter, old man. Your arteries can’t take it.”

  Michael’s dark scowl smoothed into delight as we locked eyes. “Anthony. Settle a bet with me.”

  “What is it?”

  “You add butter to the noodles before the gravy to make it stick.”

  “Your brother’s right.” I patted Liana’s shoulder, grinning. “But he always thins out the sauce with too many vegetables, so it doesn’t fucking matter.”

  Liana chuckled. “Shots fired.”

  “That’s my wife’s recipe.” Michael waved the tongs at me. “Take it back, you dick.”

  “Sorry. It’s the truth.”

  “Never mind,” he smoldered, shaking his head. “I’ll beat your ass later.”

  “Okay. Do you want to give me the twenty grand now? Or later when I clean you out?” I winked at him and headed out the kitchen.

  We had a poker tournament running all weekend. We played every night after the kids were in bed. The fierce competition had sparked a few heated moments. Trash talk was encouraged. None of the wives liked it except for mine, because I always won. It went without saying that I was the king.

  I walked the halls and stumbled on Alessio making out with Mia. She unlatched from him and hugged me. All was forgiven.

  “Aren’t you going to eat with us?”

  I patted her back. “In a little bit.”

  I made my excuses and went outside, where dark blue blanketed the beach. No matter what I did or how hard I tried, I couldn’t forget what I’d been through. On nights like this, I grappled with guilt. I needed to get away from it all.

  I sat on the beach as waves touched the sand. I couldn’t relax with the water so close to the house. I’d probably sit outside for a few hours.

  “Are you all right?”

  I was so absorbed in my task that the voice next to me caught me off guard.

  I turned on my phone, illuminating Alessio’s face. “Better than I’ve ever been.”

  “I keep waiting for you to come back to us. You’re not like how you used to be. You were the life of the party back in the day.”

  I didn’t do that anymore. “This is as normal as I’ll ever get, besides cleaning you all out at cards. You owe me fifty grand, by the way.”

  “Mia will divorce me if we keep this shit up.”

  “If you gamble away your kids’ college tuition, I’ll give you a classic, six-for-five loan. Twenty percent a week. You can pay me every Thursday.”

  “Thursdays are no good for me. What about Saturday?”

  “Ah, I play golf on my yacht on Saturdays.”

  We shared a laugh that echoed down the beach. When it died, Alessio made a contemplative sound.

  “Been meaning to talk to you for a while. For years, actually. You can’t avoid me forever, Anthony.”

  Too bad.

  “Is this about Mia?”

  He was referring to the time when I got so high I made out with his wife. I remembered the hospital visit after he beat the shit out of me, but nothing else.

  I shook my head. “I don’t even remember it, Alessio.”

  Alessio waited for me to elaborate as my stomach twisted in knots. Then he sighed, long and hard.

  “Do you think your dad would be happy, if he was here with us? Would he be proud of us?”

  Considering I killed him, I doubt it.

  “You? Sure. Not me.” I crossed my arms, my gaze flicking to the shore. “Tell you the truth, I don’t think of him.”

  Alessio’s brows furrowed. “Why?”

  A shadow moved in the dark, and I turned my flashlight toward the waves. A child tottered down the beach. I got up and sprinted toward him, scooping him before his bare feet touched the water. Alessio’s light landed on the kid’s face. One of Vinn’s.

 
I returned to the house, where a frantic Vinn tore apart the house. “I’ve got him. He was this close to the water.”

  Vinn took Chris from me, looking nauseated. “Thanks. I owe you.”

  “Guys, I think I’m going to skip poker night. I’m beat.”

  They slapped my back and I headed into our room with the kids. Massimo bounced in Evie’s arms, fussing. He whined as I walked in the room, his arms outstretched toward me.

  Evie laughed. “I love how he forgets I exist whenever you show up.”

  “Vieni da papà.”

  I scooped him in my arms, his dark eyes glistening as he groped my beard and pinched my nose. I’d hoped he’d be like Tristan, sweet and easy to please, but more and more I realized we were watered down versions of our parents. Tristan was her shadow. Massimo was mine.

  I hiked him on my hip. “This kid worries me. He’s my mirror.”

  “What the hell did you expect, honey? You’re his dad. Of course he’s going to be like you.”

  “I hoped they’d take after you.”

  “He’s just a baby, T.”

  I shook my head, sighing. “What if he’s just as troubled? What if he goes to college and comes back with a drug addiction? What if—”

  “I’m not worried. I quite like who you are and what you’ve chosen to become.”

  Evie pressed her soft lips to my cheek, and I flushed like a teenage boy. With her I was the luckiest man in the world.

  I dragged Evie into my arms. The salted air from the beach had played with her hair, teasing her chocolate waves. Gorgeous. She kissed the top of Massimo’s head, and my chest tightened.

  Her and him.

  My life.

  My redemption.

  For too long, I’d lived in the devil’s shadow. Now I had a reason to live. To defend. To channel my rage into something pure.

  Evie tucked a wayward curl behind her ear, her soft eyes crashing into mine. “What are you thinking about?”

  “How much I love you. How I almost lost you. How I nearly ruined this.”