The Mafia Twins want me

Chapter two

Donovan reached for me.

I barely had time to breathe before his hand closed around my waist and pulled me against him.

His eyes stayed on mine.

Dark.

Possessive.

Unreadable.

I swallowed.

"Donovan..."

"What?"

"I've never done this with someone I barely know."

His thumb brushed across my lower lip.

"We already did this."

"I couldn't remember.”

His gaze dropped to my mouth.

"Then I'll make sure you don't forget this time."

Then he kissed me.

The kiss was nothing like I expected.

There was no hesitation.

No awkwardness between two strangers forced into a marriage.

Donovan kissed me like he had already decided exactly what he wanted.

I pushed against his chest.

He stopped immediately.

His breathing was heavier now.

"Tell me to leave."

I stared at him.

My mind screamed that I should.

This man was a stranger.

A dangerous stranger.

My husband only because a single night had destroyed everything I thought my life would be.

But my lips parted. Stupidly.

"Don't."

His eyes darkened.

That was all it took.

He kissed me again.

And this time, I didn't push him away.

The night disappeared in a blur of tangled sheets, whispered commands, and sensations I wasn't prepared for.

Donovan was demanding.

Intense.

He gave me no time to overthink what I was doing.

Yet somehow, beneath all that roughness, he paid attention to every reaction my body gave him.

By the time everything finally went quiet, I could barely keep my eyes open.

I lay against the pillows, staring blankly at the ceiling.

My entire body felt sore.

My breathing was still uneven.

And Donovan.

Donovan looked completely composed.

He sat at the edge of the bed, fastening the buttons of his black shirt as though he hadn't just turned my entire world upside down.

I pulled the sheet higher.

"You're leaving?"

He glanced at me.

"Yes."

"Just like that?"

"I have work."

I almost laughed.

"Of course you do."

He looked at me for a moment.

Then his gaze traveled over my face.

"You regret it?"

I hesitated.

"I don't know."

He stood.

That answer seemed to satisfy him.

Before I could ask why, he walked back toward me.

His fingers brushed through my hair.

The gesture was unexpectedly gentle.

"You'll get used to me."

I frowned.

"That's a very arrogant thing to say."

"I know."

He leaned down.

His lips touched my forehead.

Then he straightened.

I watched him walk toward the door.

"Donovan."

He stopped.

I looked at his back.

"Why did you marry me?"

Silence.

For several seconds, I thought he wouldn't answer.

Then he turned his head slightly.

"Because I wanted to."

And he walked out.

I stared at the closed door.

That was it.

No explanation.

No apology.

Nothing.

I sank deeper into the pillows.

What kind of man answered a question like that?

I had spent the last four days telling myself this marriage was nothing more than damage control.

A contract.

A convenient solution to an inconvenient scandal.

But now… f**k.

I'd slept with the giluy already.

I woke sometime after sunrise.

The first thing I noticed was the empty space beside me.

The second was the soreness.

I groaned and buried my face in the pillow.

"Never again."

A knock sounded.

I lifted my head.

"Come in."

A maid entered carrying a tray.

"Good morning, Mrs. Blackwood."

I pushed myself upright.

"Good morning."

She placed the tray on the table.

"Mr. Blackwood asked me to bring you breakfast."

I stared at the food.

Then at her.

"He did?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She hesitated.

"He also instructed us not to disturb you before you woke."

Something about that caught me off guard.

I hadn't expected consideration from Donovan.

The maid left.

I stared at the breakfast for a moment before reaching for the coffee.

My phone buzzed.

Then buzzed again.

Messages from my mother.

My father.

Friends.

Even people I hadn't spoken to in months.

Everyone wanted to know what had happened.

Everyone wanted details about my marriage.

I ignored them all.

I was about to put the phone down when another message appeared.

Unknown Number.

How are you feeling this morning?

I frowned.

I typed back.

Who is this?

No answer came.

A few seconds later, the bedroom door opened.

I looked up.

Donovan.

He walked inside with his phone in one hand.

His expression was cold.

He looked like the man I'd seen at those society events—the man everyone avoided.

Nothing like the man who had kissed my forehead before leaving.

His eyes immediately found me.

Then moved to the untouched breakfast.

"Why haven't you eaten?"

I blinked.

"Good morning to you too."

He ignored that.

"Eat."

"I'm not hungry."

His jaw tightened.

"You need to eat."

"I said I'm not hungry."

He walked toward the bed.

I instinctively moved back.

His gaze noticed.

Something flickered across his face.

But he didn't comment.

Instead, he picked up the tray and placed it directly in front of me.

"Eat."

I stared at him.

"You're very controlling."

"Yes."

He said it without embarrassment.

I almost laughed.

"At least you admit it."

"I don't see the point in lying to my wife."

My wife.

The words made something strange twist in my stomach.

I looked down at my wedding ring.

"I'm still getting used to that."

"You will."

I looked up.

For the first time that morning, his expression softened.

Then his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen.

The softness vanished.

He answered.

"What?"

His voice changed immediately.

Cold.

Commanding.

The person on the other end spoke for several seconds.

Donovan's eyes narrowed.

"Move the shipment."

A pause.

"No. Tonight."

Another pause.

"Anyone who gets in the way answers to me."

He hung up.

I stared at him.

"Was that business?"

"Yes."

"Mafia business?"

His eyes met mine.

"You ask too many questions."

"You married me."

"I did."

"So maybe I deserve some answers."

He walked closer.

"Not yet."

"Not yet?"

"You've been my wife for less than a week."

His hand settled briefly against my waist.

"There's plenty of time."

I looked at him.

There was that possessive glint again.

The same one I'd noticed last night.

It made my pulse jump.

He leaned down and whispered,

"Stay inside today."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"And if I don't?"

His eyes darkened.

"Then you'll be in trouble”

He kissed my forehead.

Then he left.

I sat there staring after him.

I didn't know whether I was irritated or strangely disappointed that he had gone.

Probably both.

I reached for my coffee.

My phone buzzed again.

The same unknown number.

This time, there was only one message.

Unknown Number.

He can be a little intense, can't he?

I frowned.

My fingers froze over the screen.

I stared at the message.

Then at the closed bedroom door.

How could a stranger know what Donovan was like?

I typed quickly.

Who are you?

The reply came almost immediately.

Unknown Number.

Someone you'll meet me soon, Sammy.

My blood ran cold.

Only people close to me knew that nickname.

My fingers tightened around the phone.

Who the hell was this?

Before I could type another message, another one appeared.

Unknown Number:

Get some rest, Sammy. You'll need it.

My blood ran cold.

I stared at the screen.

How did a stranger know my nickname?

And more importantly...

How did he know what had happened between me and Donovan?