Married To The Mafia

2. Joanne

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~ ~ ~ TWO YEARS LATER ~ ~ ~

"Are you sure you are married?" My co-worker, Stella, asked me as she handed me a glass of cold water.

"Huh?" I turned to her.

"You know, the way you talk about him, it's like he's a total stranger or something, not your husband," she said with a knowing smile. "Of two years, at that."

I took the water and nodded, a sigh escaping me. "It's complicated, Stella."

"Oh, I bet it is," she winked, nudging me playfully.

But she had no idea.

Two years had passed. And the amount of time I had spent with him would not add up to two weeks.

Alexander was a man of business, and his business was... complicated, to say the least.

The Knight family had a long history of being involved in things that shouldn't exist.

Things that were too dark, too bloody, and too powerful for the average person to handle.

He was rarely home, and when he was, he was in his study, the heavy oak doors shut tight.

And sleep? I was convinced he was a vampire for the first week of our marriage. Because he never went to bed. And then one day, I found out he was sleeping in a guest room. No. His room.

It was obvious he hated me.

Then why a marriage?

Why a marriage that held no significance?

I had asked myself that question a million times.

Why marry me if he didn't want me?

Ugh, I hated how I sounded like a desperate wife at times.

But it was the truth.

Our marriage was a facade, but at least he could be a bit more civil with me. Was it too much to ask for?

Marriages in the Knight family were vows set on stone. There was no escape from it.

So we were endgame unless he miraculously disappeared - also read, died - so why was he being so difficult?

"Stella, how about we go drinking tonight?" I asked her out of the blue.

She was the least surprised. She just shrugged. "Why not? No better way to end a week than by filling your gut up to your throat with good alcohol."

I smiled. "I like you."

"I like you more." She winked. "How about we off this enigmatic husband of yours and elope together?"

Her joke made me laugh, but I shook my head. "Trust me, darling, that is impossible to achieve."

"Oh, come on, Jo," she pouted, "You're a smart girl. I'm sure you can think of something."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Why are we talking like we actually plan to pull it off?"

"Because sometimes, you just need to say the craziest things to feel alive," Stella replied with a shrug, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I laughed. I agreed with her.

I need to act crazy before I actually go crazy.

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Drinking is not a bad idea.

But drinking to the point of oblivion is a really bad idea.

Because one evening you will be talking s**t about your emotionless husband and drinking to your heart's content, and the next morning, you will find yourself tangled under the sheets with said husband, his morning wood pressing against your naked abdomen.

Yeah, that's what happened.

I woke up with a start, my heart racing like I had just run a marathon. The room was spinning, and my head was pounding like a drum.

"What the..." I began, my voice hoarse. Why was my voice hoarse?

Alexander's breath remained steady and deep, and his arm held me firm to his chest, his erection so huge that it looked painful.

Was this thing inside me?

My core ached in response.

My eyes widened.

This was not a good situation.

I had never been with a man before.

Well, at least this is my husband. Thank heavens I didn't sleep with some random guy I met at the bar.

Alexander would have killed him, and then skinned me alive.

I took a deep breath, trying to slow down my racing heart. I looked around. We were in his much larger room. And I needed to get out before he woke up.

But as I tried to move, his arms tightened around me.

"Where do you think you're going?" His voice was a low rumble.

I froze.

His eyes were open, his gaze piercing through the throbbing ache in my head.

"I... I just need to... get some water," I managed to croak out, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"You're not going anywhere," he murmured, his voice low and gruff.

I stiffened in his arms, feeling trapped. "Alexander, we... I..." I couldn't form the words. This was uncharted territory for me, and my mind was still hazy from the night before.

"You were a virgin." He murmured. It wasn't a question, but a statement.

I nodded, my face burning with embarrassment. "Yeah, I was."

Was? WAS? So we really did have s*x?

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.

I glared at him. Why was he increasing my embarrassment? "You never asked? And it is not something normal people talk about in everyday conversations. Not that we have any of that."

He rolled his eyes. "And she is back."

"Who is back?"

"My spitfire wife." He said and then smirked, "I swear I like my timid puppy over this raccoon."

"I'm not a puppy," I spat back, trying to ignore the way his words made me feel... all fluffy inside.

"You were, yesterday night. Timid little puppy left to my mercy."

I pushed away from him, the sheets slipping down my body as I sat up. "I was drunk!" I exclaimed, clutching the bed cover to my chest. "You took advantage!"

Alexander's smirk grew wider. "You were begging for it, Joanne. You threw yourself at me, not the other way around."

My face went from red to white. "What? No, I didn't!" I protested, but I had no memory of last night. On what grounds was I supposed to refute his claims?

Alexander just chuckled and sat up in bed, his muscular chest on full display. He looked so... so... tempting.

I averted my eyes and scooted back, putting as much space between us as the bed allowed.

"Don't play dumb," he said, his voice rumbling with laughter. "You practically dragged me to bed."

Did I really?

"That's not funny!" I snapped, feeling the heat spread across my body.

I am never drinking again!

"You really don't remember anything, do you?" He laughed.

Why did this maniac find my plight funny?

"Maybe a recap might help."

"Huh?"

The sheets were pulled off of me, leaving me naked and exposed. And he was on top of me.

"What are you doing?" I shrieked, pushing against his chest.

"Refreshing your memory, darling," he murmured, dipping down to just a breath away from my lips.

"Alexander, no!" I pushed him again.

But he didn't budge. He was too heavy, too strong.

"Alexander, please," I pleaded, my voice sounded small and weak. And I hated it. Because it was the truth. I was small and weak. While he was strong and powerful.

He studied me for a moment, his eyes roaming over my bare body before his smirk disappeared, replaced with something serious. "Why are you fighting this?"

"Because this was a mistake. Last night was a mistake."

Alexander leaned closer, his lip touching mine. "Is that so?"

I nodded, my voice a whisper. "Yes."

He stared at me for a moment, and then, with a sigh, he rolled off of me.

I scrambled to grab the sheets and cover myself up.

Alexander sat at the edge of the bed, his back to me. "Remember Joanne, those were your words. Not mine."

"What?" I turned to him, pausing from trying to find my clothes.

"I won't touch you again until you beg for it. Sober. On your knees."

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