***LONDON’S POV***
It has been One week and a half since I left home and I’ve been homesick, then, with help from Michael and Oliver I had gotten over that feeling.
Oliver hasn’t touched me, nor has he beaten me, which is strange.
Also, Michael had been super friendly towards me. Whatever their plan was, I was now tired and wanted to go home.
This was kidnapping, with the exception that the criminals didn’t want ransom over my head.
This also happened to be a break from Zane’s abusive nature.
But then, there is this part of me that wants to go back to my husband, I miss him. How controlling he is in bed and uhm… the spankings.
I can’t be that fucked up in the head to the extend of missing him, but I wanted Zane. He was a bad guy, but damn it, Zane was my bad guy. My daddy, and I was his daddy.
The last part made me smile a little.
It was evening on a Sunday and the sun was setting down.
Michael had said we were going to eat dinner outside and I was anticipating it.
Unlike the unstable man I had come to know these past few months, the Mike now had changed and he was back to his old self.
He was the kind of comfort I needed to be here.
Standing by the sliding door, I stare at Michael as he fixes the steaks on the barbecue.
When he spots me, he gives me a warm smole before calling me out.
“Are you to join me or will you just stay there staring at my ass?” he asks jokingly.
Giggling like a child, I rush out, smiling at him as I watch how he greases the steaks.
“Hmmm! It smells delicious,” I mouth making soft sounds with my mouth.
“If you continue like that, I might lose my self control and kiss you. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” he asks, stopping to stare at me.
The last time something like that had happened, it had been super uncomfortable for the both of us and building that hell of a bridge between us had taken part of the week I had been held hostage here at the old mansion.
Shaking my head, I decline what he is saying.
“Good girl. Who says barbecue says?” he question wriggling his brows sweetly at me.
I shrug, not knowing the response.
“Beer!” he chuckles and I understood the joke, laughing along with him.
“Why don’t you get us some beer from the cooler, huh?” he urges and I nod my head, obeying his order.
The cooler was filled with ice and the beers were buried under. I’ver never had beer, and I don’t know if I am receptive to taking it without having it damage my baby.
Michael would have noticed the discomfort on my face because he clears my doubt instantly.
“No alcohol in that, London. You could read the instructions. I promise I wouldn’t give you anything that would hurt you or your baby,” he states, his eyes twinkling with sincerity.
*
By the time he finished cooking, Oliver returned from the mall with more beer, amongst other groceries he bought for us.
“Hey, babe,” he mumbles coming to place a kiss on my cheek.
I let him do that. I don’t know why I don’t stop him because to me, letting my ex-boyfriend kiss me like that, despite it being a small gesture could be regarded as me cheating on my husband.
But then, Oliver had kissed me like that on several occasions.
He had never kissed me fully on the lips though. No! Always cute forehead kisses, and then, on my cheeks too.
I don’t think he means any harm because Michael is as sweet to me as Oliver is when I am around.
I huff out as he takes the seat close to mine, and grabbing the tray if Steak, he serves it to me.
I notice how he gives me two slices and serves a generous portion of mashed potatoes and gravy sauce on my plate.
“Michael, you truly should open a restaurant and leave baking alone,” I tease him as I eat.
He laughs, but doesn’t pursue the conversation.
We eat in amiable silence and I don’t miss the glares Oliver and Michael share between one another.
“How are you both related? I mean, you said your parents were Russians, but Oliver, I have never heard you with the Russian accent,” I call him out, waiting to hear what he has to say.
He takes a chug of his beer before he replies to me.
“Of course not. We don’t have the same father nor mother. My mom married Michael’s dad when they moved the states after the Vincenzos chased him out of their land,” he explains.
Looking at Michael, I watch how he nods his head in acceptance, then, putting a cutlet of meat in his mouth, it stops him from adding an input to the chat.
“I thought your dad died in Sicily? Something isn’t adding up,” I spit out.
I’ve heard this story a few times and that the man had been a traitor. What was I missing?
Mike and Oliver share a look before Mile came in to save the day.
“Of course, but they thought he was dead. He never was. He started a family here, and I was his step son,” he sighs out.
The next question I am about to ask is a little weird, but I need to know the answers, and I don’t care what they think about it.
“Tell me, what are you both getting from this deal?” I question holding my breathe as I brace for the answer.
“You, baby girl. I’ve got my girlfriend back, and Michael has gotten his revenge against the Vincenzo,” he explains.
I gape in shock, not believing my ears.
They had just said that and I was just a pawn in a feud between two mafia families.
I didn’t want to go through this.
Standing, I knock my leg on the table and stiffen a scream as I stare at these men in disbelief.
“London calm down, you are hurt,” Michael says rising to his feet.
“Go shuffle that lame excuse down your ass. I am leaving,” I bark out starting to walk away but Oliver grasp my wrist and stops me from leaving.
“You can’t leave baby girl,” he says and I feel like I was just now waking from the worse nightmare of my life.
“I can. Watch me,” I bark out.
When Oliver tows over me, his damn height is evident and I close my eyes, waiting for the sensation to pass.
“You can’t go back to the house of a man that hits you, London. I wouldn’t permit it,”
My face grew red from anger. “Well, when you started the violence, I don’t expect you to judge another man,” I grit out fuming.
“I know I have never been a Saint towards you, London, I never even claimed to be one,” he says.
I search the sincerity in his eyes, and behold, it is there.
“You can’t keep me against my wish, I am pregnant. My baby needs his daddy,”
And I need mine as well.
I don’t add that part, but it sounds in my head.
I do not know how receptive people are to the idea of me calling Zane, Daddy, but it could be weird.
“That baby is damn luck because it sure as fuck would be having two daddies,” he chuckles pointing to him and Michael who nods possessively.
“We can’t do this and you know it. We are still in town, what are the odds that we run into Zane or someone I know?” I ask, soften up already.
This time, Oliver places his two hands on my shoulder blades and huffs.
“You never have to worry about such things. Since my face is unfamiliar in the area, I will be doing the shopping. Whatever you need, even baby clothes, damn it, I would transform one of the rooms into a nursery for the baby,” Oliver let out.
Zane had done that already, but he wouldn’t be having any baby if I stay with these men.
Deep down in me, I know I want to accept this, there is no point declining it, or saying no, but what are the freaking odds that shit wouldn’t hit the fan?
“If I don’t accept to this?” I demand holding my breathe.
Oliver’s face hardens up as he contort his features and spits the reply I wasn’t expecting to my face.
“I’ll destroy your husband’s empire. I would let Michael teach him what son of a bitch he is, London,” he replies.
“And if I stay here?” I murmur, not wanting to know what he has to say.
“Your husband would have the freedom to live life, get himself a new wife and you would be bound to me. You see? Everyone has a happy ending, London. Things don’t have to always be complicated, you know?” he chuckles, saying that.
My body crawls just hearing my fate laid out before my eyes. As much as I shake my head, thinking this is a bad idea, I nod.
“Fine, I would do it. But we need a time frame, Oliver. I can’t stay here forever, Zane would eventually come one day looking for me,” I try to be reasonable.
Oliver gives Michael a terrible look before rolling his eyes to the back of his head.
“Zane’s men are patrolling the town and until I know what he wants, which is you, we aren’t leaving this place. As I said, I will get the groceries. Any other thing we need too. Michael’s fucking face is a blown risk to us,” he stated and I laughed out loud at the joke he just cracked.
“We aren’t getting back together, just so we are clear,” I throw out.
Oliver lifts his hands before him in a placating manner.
“Could I at least make up for being an asshole to you, London? For hell’s sake, I kidnapped and tortured you the last time we met,” he says, sadness filling his voice.
Taking a deep breathe, I smole warmly at Oliver as I release it between my slightly parted lips.
“One year, London, and then, we all part ways for good,” he says.
That’s a long time, but if it means Zane gets back his business and life, I would gladly do it for him.
“Is that what you are agreeing on, Michael? One year of my life, spending it with you guys and I get away from the tunnel with no strings attached to it?” I ask raising my brows.
“Yes, London, you have my word,” Michael mutters and I release a breathe that until now, I hadn’t known I was keeping.
“Deal!” I whisper, tears blurring my vision.
Hugging me tighter to his chest, Oliver peppered light kisses all over my face, but left my lips aside.
“You wouldn’t regret these days, I promise you,” Oliver swears, laying his chin above my head.
It feels weird being like that with him, but I don’t utter a word to him.
“Let’s dance,” Michael says and starts a record player attached to a small speaker.
The music is carried by the wind and as I dance, the stars are beautiful.
I have never felt so… Free? Liberated?
I know this chapter I opened is against my will, but if the bait came as a package to two dangerous men, I would do it.
‘Remember London, you are doing this for your husband,’
That’s a bullshit of a reason, but I decide to go with it, because with that, the guilt isn’t laid on my conscience.
At some point, Oliver removed the beer bottle from my hand because although it was alcohol free, he didn’t think it right for me to continue drinking.
He handed me a bottle of water which I gladly accepted.
***