Chapter 5 - Tailor-Made Mob Boss Wife
Six months later, the neighborhood of Brooklyn was quiet. The Moretti family was nothing more than a whispered memory, and the local real estate developers had mysteriously decided to invest their money in a different state.
Hart & Daughter Tailoring was completely renovated. The broken glass was replaced, the floors polished, and business was booming. Evelyn stood in front of the three-way mirror, a tape measure draped around her neck, smiling as she pinned the hem of a beautiful, custom-made white gown.
The bell above the door rang, and the familiar, intoxicating scent of cedar and espresso filled the air. Roman walked in, wearing the charcoal suit Evelyn had finished making for him weeks ago. He looked powerful, dangerous, and completely utterly devoted to the woman standing in the center of the room.
Sal walked in behind him, holding a tray of coffees. “Oat milk, no sugar, boss lady,” Sal grinned, setting it on the counter before tactfully stepping outside to guard the street.
Roman walked up behind Evelyn, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror—just like the day he had first asked if she was seeing anyone. He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder, careful of the pins in the white silk.
“Is the dress almost done?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her neck.
“It’s perfect,” Evelyn replied, leaning back against his solid chest. “Though the groom’s tuxedo might need a final fitting.”
“The groom is exactly where he wants to be,” Roman said, turning her around to face him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, flipping it open to reveal a diamond so large it caught the afternoon sun and painted the walls in rainbows.
“I bought your debt. I bought your building. But the only thing I actually want to keep forever is you,” Roman said, his voice dropping to that rough, possessive whisper that made her knees weak. “Marry me, Evelyn. Be my wife. Be the Underboss’s queen.”
Evelyn smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck, finally accepting the dangerous, beautiful life she had stitched together with him.
May you like
“Maybe soon,” she teased, echoing her old words.
Roman’s eyes darkened with a familiar hunger. “Not maybe,” he growled, claiming her lips in a kiss that promised a lifetime of protection, passion, and power. “Definitely.”
