He let out a groan. “There better be some toast with that, and if so, it’s my dream breakfast.”
I click my fingers. “Toast, toast, toast, toast, it is coming right up. Oh, I also put the coffeepot on. Would you like a cup?” I asked.
“Yeah, no cream, two sugars.”
I loved serving him. I loved our breakfast time. I never thought being married to him would give me so much happiness. I was dreading marriage, and yet it felt like I hit the jackpot.
Grabbing a cup from the top shelf, I moved closer to him and poured him a large mug of coffee, adding two heaping spoonfuls of sugar, and I carried it to him, stirring. I’d watched him make his coffee many times.
I removed the spoon and waited for his reaction as he took the mug from me and blew across the surface. He took a tentative sip, which is what he always did, and then I got a wink. It was the first wink I had ever gotten, and it made my stomach flip-flop with pleasure.
Being married was not so bad.
****
Odin
Alba was every part of what my sources said—kind, sweet, even adorable.
In the past three weeks, she had not complained. She fit into my life and didn’t ask any questions. We were able to talk, but when it came to work, she allowed me to do what I needed to do, and I have to admit, I appreciated it. She was a breath of fresh air.
This was not what I expected. I had known Roberto would do something to taint this union, forcing his daughter to be his spy. She passed the first test in presenting me with the phone and also giving me the code to get into it.
For the first three weeks, no message had come. Her father hadn’t even sent her a text to make sure she was okay. None of them had called. The truce was in full force.
Serra Mafia businesses were currently being left alone, and they were able to function, but it was only a matter of timebefore I made my move. This was a temporary truce, and while I dealt with my own business, as well as my wife, it didn’t mean for a second I was done with them.
Three weeks without a single word, and now this morning, the cell phone buzzed with a single message, asking if she was aware of all my business ventures. The cell phone was in my pocket.
Alba looked so happy as she walked around my kitchen. She no longer looked stiff as a board. She had a flow and happiness around her. Part of me didn’t want to disrupt that. Her life had changed. She’d gotten a taste of freedom, although she spent a lot of time with me. Our marriage was real. The only part we had left to play was to fuck, but I wasn’t ready to do that. Not yet.
Alba came toward me, and she put my breakfast in front of me, and I couldn’t help but smile. She paid attention. I’d been the one cooking the past few weeks. I made her breakfast exactly like this, and even my toast was the same color I liked. It was these little details, that I hated to admit, made me like her.
My witnesses had said this about Alba. She stood back, she watched, she listened, and she learned. Alba was the nice one. So far, everything I’d been told rang true.
“Is it okay?” she asked.
I speared a piece of scrambled egg, because I don’t like runny eggs. I love my eggs to be solid. It was the way my mom used to do them, and it was the way I have always liked them. My mom also always put in a lot of black pepper. I still love them that way.
Taking a bite, they are almost spot-on. “Delicious,” I said. The bacon was as crispy as I like it, and the toast, perfect. Not too thickly buttered.
Abla clapped her hands and picked up her fork, but then she seemed to freeze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“To have a little celebration because you made my breakfast exactly the way I like it?” I took another mouthful of the eggs, and they were tasty. I might have added a touch of pepper, but that is from years of loving my mom’s eggs. That was not going to change.
“It’s not proper etiquette.”
“You’re no longer a Marini. You’re a Kemp now, and if you want to clap your hands, or go and dance fucking naked under a full moon, that is what you’re going to do. There is no control. There is no proper way to do any of that shit.” I reached into my pocket. “But I do need you to respond to this.”
I watched her face visibly pale. “I didn’t do anything.”
“I know you didn’t, but now your dad wants answers.” I held the phone out to her and saw she didn’t want to take it. She was acting like it was tainted. It probably was, a Marini had touched it. Finally, I got her to take the phone, and I sat back and looked at her.
“Tell him you don’t know anything about my businesses,” I said.
Alba looked at the cell phone, and then started to type.
“Don’t send right away, but mention that we are going to be at the Black Rose tonight,” I said.