Page 65 of Married to the Ruthless Mafia Heir

"Trying to seduce me, Elena?"

My voice went rough. My hand slipped under her hem, kneading her soft flesh. Her body trembled slightly. She bit her lip, eyes glistening as she looked at me. "We shouldn't... Dante."

I kissed her again. "You're my wife."

She passively accepted everything I gave her, her whole body going soft. My hard cock pressed against her hip bone. Elena gasped and pushed me away. "We can't..."

I wanted to continue, but a car horn sounded outside. I had to stop, opened the door, and looked out. It was the delivery truck.

I'd ordered things for the shop. Since they were here, I had to cool down. Workers started unloading. Elena and I stood watching. She seemed surprised. "Did you buy all this?"

I crossed my arms. "Yes. You'll need it."

They unloaded a solid wood display case, two vintage brass wall lamps, a framed oil painting of the sea that matched the shop's warm white walls perfectly, and a full-length mirror with a carved walnut frame.

And a comfortable armchair—compact but relaxing for tired muscles.

I pointed at the chair. "You're pregnant. Your body will get uncomfortable. This chair is perfect for expectant mothers."

She looked at me with complicated emotions. After a long moment, she said, "Thank you."

The shop transformed quickly. Warm white walls, brass-colored lights, Elena's finished dresses hanging on the walls—the cream linen dress and light blue cotton sundress, their hems swaying gently in the breeze.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Elena

For the past two weeks, Dante had been by my side, pouring himself into helping me renovate the boutique.

He was such a dazzling, powerful man—running a massive mafia family and business empire—yet he'd spent his time and energy on my little shop.

He said he loved me. I figured this was proof.

The opening was just around the corner. I'd rushed to finish a few new dresses to sell and handed them to Dante to hang on the wall.

Dante's arms were long. He didn't need a stool. He reached up easily and hooked each dress onto the nails. When he finished, he came over and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. "Congratulations, Elena. Everything's ready."

The sun was setting. The golden glow of dusk washed over everything, turning Dante's hair the color of honey. I couldn't help but reach up and run my fingers through it. "You helped me so much. Thank you."

Dante suddenly said, "Wait here. I'll be right back."

Then he left. I had no idea what he was up to, so I just sat in the shop and waited. The armchair was incredibly comfortable—the kind that cradled your whole body the second you sat down. The massage mechanism inside kneaded gently at my back, lulling me toward sleep.

Before long, a figure appeared in the doorway.

I opened my eyes and looked over. Dante stood there in a sharp, formal suit, smiling at me.

The suit looked familiar. Too familiar. And then I saw it clearly—it was the one I'd designed for him.

"Lucia said the suit was finished. She picked it up and had it sent here." Dante walked closer, took my hand, and placed it against his chest. "Elena, I love this suit. But if you made it yourself, I'd love it even more."

He kissed my fingertips. The tingle shot through me, making my whole body shiver.

The suit fit him even better than I'd imagined. Dante had always been tall and handsome, but this suit brought out the best in him. There was even a distinctive pin on his chest. I stepped closer to look and realized it was the wedding ring I'd taken off—now hanging right over his heart.

My mouth fell open. Dante took my hand. "May I invite you to dinner, beautiful?"

"You—" I couldn't find the words. The way Dante looked at me was so tender it didn't seem real. My heart pounded. I couldn't believe any of this was happening.