Underworld Oat

Seeking Her Loyalty

Even though I had visited Paris numerous times, Sebastian had helped me see the city of love from a new perspective. There was better food, more interesting master-piece art to peruse in the museums, and a more romantic stroll along the Seine. In addition, he kept his word that the s*x would be better the next time. He repeatedly made love to me, adoring my body each time. Even so, I sensed his restraint. At times, I begged him to push me more because he was too soft for the strength and promise in his physique. It had been a week since our wedding, and his usual reaction was, "Not yet." The Haussmann-style residential duplex in the 18th Arrondissement belonged to Sebastian. The decor was retro-modern. The trim was a rich brown color, and the walls were white. The furnishings added a pop of color with shades of deep orange and blue. Pop art graphics were paired with black-and-white shots of Hollywood luminaries from the golden era. Sebastian stated that he purchased the mansion from a prosperous 1960s movie producer and kept the interior design by a well-known designer intact. He had given me a black credit card and another that would have allowed me to access our joint bank account on our journey to Paris. "But you're my wife now," he said, giving me the freedom to do as I wanted with the home. He then winked and said, "Just don't bankrupt me." My name, "Catalina Romeris," on the card made me feel as though I had a new lease on life. A fresh start in which certain things would never alter. The security in the building was excellent, and his people were never visible. A reminder that Sebastian was the son of the Chicago mob and that we were not your average newlyweds. Paris in mid-January was cold, practically freezing. And although I like the comforts of well-known restaurants, I felt like a wife tonight and recommended staying. I had bouillabaisse on the stove. This morning, Sebastian and I went ingredient shopping on Rue Montmartre, and I had the best time ever arguing over the cost of seafood at a poissonnerie while looking for ingredients. Sebastian was fluent, which was fortunate, but he waited to intervene until necessary. When I was in Paris the last time, my mum took me to a fashion show. We lodged in hotels. I had no interest in clothing, trends, or the elite group Mamma surrounded herself with. I put on an airport cover of genuine interest, so I went along with it. Mamma said it would be more useful if I went to college rather than finishing school so they could prepare me to be a don's wife, so I went to NYU to earn an accounting degree. As though my sole life goals were to take care of the family finances and raise my kids. For that, I didn't require a degree in accounting. Likely, Sebastian has only been apart from me five times since we arrived in Paris. He mentioned he would be gone for an hour or two tonight to meet with a business partner. It served as a reminder that, despite our marriage, he continued to lead an organization of dealings that he concealed from his wife. Since I kept my secrets, I was able to keep his. I was a modest and obedient daughter, the new bride of the Chicago don, to everyone, even my family. I wanted to be the latter; the former was untrue. My mother almost died from a heart attack that she had as a result of my only act of defiance when I was a teenager. She still enjoyed reminding me of my part in her near death. Years passed before I realised it wasn't my fault, but to maintain harmony, I had to create an altered personality. In many respects, Sebastian was my hero in shining armor. He was like an enraged angel, storming into the room, firing at gangsters outside, and barricading us until help arrived, saving me from the grips of a mad Rodrigo Diego. I hoped to add another layer of protection to myself from those who would come for me once I had gotten my life together with Sebastian. I couldn't keep my secrets to myself forever. I wasn't held captive by Rodrigo Diego just because I was Fernandez Gomez's cherished daughter. The reason for this was that he found out I was the hacker who stopped their human trafficking activities involving the Russians. Other than him and my jerk of a cousin Valentino, nobody knew. Both of them had passed away. I felt secure. For the time being. I looked at my watch and saw that Sebastian couldn't come for another hour. I made my way to our bedroom and took out my carry-on luggage. I took down the bag's zipper and took out my dear laptop. This was my primary device and the only one I hadn't destroyed when I discovered I'd been compromised, even though the hacker had many. After starting it up, I logged in. My acquaintance who goes by Mariano sent me a message. Sebastian whispered in my ear, "Baby, that was a wonderful dinner." We stood on the little balcony, gazing out over the Paris skyline, as was our habit after supper, with him behind me and his arms encircling me. I hoped we could remain here indefinitely. "I'm grateful," I said. "Hopefully, I won't be a bad wife," he said, turning me around and lifting my chin. You're flawless, Capisce? I could never have asked for more in a partner. I hope I've brought you joy.I grinned. "Don't I appear content?" Perhaps you're taking in cues from your environment." He groaned, his black eyes growing serious. I put my hands on his chest and said, "I'm going to be a very busy man when we're back in the States." With the back of his fingers, he stroked my cheek, saying, "And you have me to make it easier." "You're so young..." Unease came into my voice as I said, "I feel guilty for plucking you out of college and denying you all the fun you deserve." "You mentioned that I could finish my degree." "I understand what I said, but you might have to stay at my mansion at Hacienda given everything that's going on." "And you'll be in Chicago?" That's where I should be," he said, "but I want to be there with you." His expression momentarily became serious before he released his embrace and went inside. "Sebastian?I went after him, and he continued to serve us wine. He extended a drink to me. I took a sip and accepted without thinking. I lowered my wine and walked to him, saying, "I want you with me as much as possible, baby." "Then no more nonsense about sending me to the mansion." Sebastian's gaze grew gloomy. Our s****l meetings were mainly initiated by him, although I had become confident enough to approach him when I felt like having s*x. "Because," I said, lowering my fingers to his buckle and gradually releasing his belt. I held his c**k in my palm. He quickly became hardened. "Who else is going to subject you to this?I continued to stare at him. Though I knew he did this when he was struggling for control, his face was a blank mask. Making him lose it delighted me. I reached behind his boxer briefs to grasp the length of his erection while lowering the zipper. He growled, "Oh, you're so hard. And you're my little temptress." "How are you going to persuade me?I dropped to my knees and grinned. I was staring up at him as he felt my hair with one hand while the other raised his wine to his lips as if I were just a woman who served him. Was feeling so debased in that way so wrong that I found it so stimulating? I swallowed the tip, freeing his erection, and placed a palm around its base.