Wife For Him (Volkov Crime Family 3) - Page 12

* * *I came downstairs wearing the dress fifteen minutes later. He stood near the front door and his eyes widened when he saw me.

“You look good.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t have time to do my hair and it’s still wet.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

I let out an annoyed breath but didn’t bother arguing. I could tell it wouldn’t get me anywhere.

At least the dress was cute. It was from Prada, simple and black with a loose skirt and a tight chest. The price tag was astronomical and I had a feeling he’d left it on there on purpose. I hated to admit that I looked good in it, and it fit as though he’d gotten it tailored with my measurements—but there was no way he knew them.

He offered me his arm. “Come on. Let’s head out.”

“Where are we going?”

“Steakhouse.”

I ignored his arm and walked outside. He followed, locked the door, and walked with me to his black Lexus.

We drove in silence. There were a hundred steakhouses in the city and I realized that it didn’t matter which one. I was arm candy for him, nothing more than a prop he was meant to show off. We needed to be seen together in public so that the city knew our marriage was for real and our two crime syndicates truly were getting along.

As much as I hated it, I knew it was my job, so I kept my mouth shut and followed his lead.

He parked out front of Barclay Prime and let the valet take the car. It was one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, and I could only guess at how expensive an average meal was. The place was packed, each table filled by an elegant couple. There was a dress code, and although the hostess glared at my still-wet hair, she took us back and seated us at a table right in the center of the main dining hall.

I felt eyes on me the moment we sat down. I stared at my water and tried to ignore it. Reid smiled and when the waitress came, he asked for a glass of whiskey for himself and a glass of white wine for me. I didn’t bother arguing, since wine would probably help.

“You don’t have to look like you’re being held captive, you know.”

I looked up at him. “I’m not.”

“You are. You look like I’m going to take you back to my place and torture you after this.”

“You’re already doing that.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Come on, little wife. It’s not so bad. We’re at a nice restaurant.”

“People are staring.”

He leaned toward me, eyes flashing amusement. “Look to your left, three tables over. Old guy, white hair, black suit. His wife looks like she’s half asleep.”

I looked over and spotted the table he meant. The wife took a long sip of wine and put it down before blotting her mouth with a napkin and giving her husband one hell of a withering stare.

“I see them.”

“That’s a state senator. Two tables behind them? Police chief and his girlfriend—I mean, their nanny. There are a couple made men, another state senator, a few big-time lawyers, a doctor I’m vaguely familiar with, and a few other important people milling around in here.”

“So what?”

“So, I’m trying to make you understand why we’re here.”

“I get it, I’m your arm candy.”

He sighed but said nothing as the waitress returned with our drinks. Before she left, he ordered for us both: steaks, French fries, small house salads. I wanted to argue, but I didn’t feel like getting into it, so the waitress took our menus and left.

“You’re arm candy,” he conceded. “You do that job very, very well.”

I gave him a look. “I’m not going to take your compliments.”

“Too bad.” He leaned closer. “But you’re more than that. We have to be a united front or this won’t work.”

“What do you mean?”

“If people look at us and realize you hate my fucking guts then this marriage loses its significance. We need the people with power in this city to understand that my crew and your family are at peace and are going to stay at peace. Otherwise, they might get uncomfortable.”

I sipped the wine and swirled the glass. “We’re here to make rich people comfortable.”

“Exactly. They want to see that the mafias aren’t going to start murdering each other in the street.”

“Are they?”

He chewed on that for a second and sipped his whiskey. “Probably not.”

“That’s not a very good answer.”

“Look, your family’s been a little shady lately. Do you know what’s been happening?”

“I know the family split a few years back. My uncle took a lot of the senior members and moved to Chicago.”

“Yeah, that’s right, and Vincent’s been in charge ever since. He’s a smart guy, but he’s also desperate to prove himself.”

“You think he’s going to start something.”

Tags: B.B. Hamel Volkov Crime Family Romance
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