I have always felt like I had the world at my feet. I have everything that I could ever want, houses, cars, jewels, jets, and more. Everything except my husband's loyalty. Three weeks ago, I found out that he has been keeping secrets from me, and that is unacceptable. You see my husband is a powerful man named Lazaro Carter. On paper, he is just your run-of-the-mill businessman, but in reality, he runs one of Chicago's most powerful crime syndicates. The clubs that he owns, while successful, conveniently cover up the illegal dealings that he is involved in, and they help him launder his money.
I was there from the beginning. I helped him claw his way to the top. That is why I can't understand why he would keep anything from me. I'm not involved in the day-to-day operations anymore. I helped lay the groundwork and did some of the dirty work in the beginning so that later I could live a life of luxury and do whatever the hell I wanted. Which at the moment, was dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant.
As soon as my driver pulled up in front of the door he hopped out, opened my door, and helped me down out of my SUV. I was wearing a dress that I had picked up earlier that day. It was fire red, skin-tight, and short. It left little to the imagination. It was low-cut and hugged my tiny waist and my big round ass. I had paired the dress with a pair of strappy black heels, that made me look slightly taller than the 5'3" that I actually am.
As I walked in, the owner immediately said "Mrs. Carter, I am so pleased to see you again."
He led me to the best table in the house and ordered that my favorite wine be brought out. With the issues that I was having with my husband, the last thing I wanted to hear was his damn last name, so I said "Please, call me Gia." I sat and ordered my usual while sipping my wine.
I had only been there for about 10 minutes when I looked up and saw three black SUVs pull up in front of the restaurant. I knew who it was before I even laid eyes on him. When my husband walked in with two men trailing behind him, my blood began to boil. How dare he interrupt my dinner, especially since he knew that I was still pissed off at him.
He walked up to me, and said, "I'm sorry love, we have to go."
I just looked at him, still drinking my wine, and said "I told you I don't want to see you."
He looked impatient as he said "I know you're still pissed off at me, but you can be mad in the truck. Let's go. I wouldn't be here if it weren't essential."
One of the men that walked in with him said, "Boss, they're almost here."
My husband looked worried. He never worried about anything. This was serious. I got up and started walking to the door. My husband left a few hundred-dollar bills on the table and walked out after me. I made sure to sway my hips as I walked, knowing what it would do to him, and got into one of the SUVs.
As we sped away, I turned and looked at my husband. He is just over six feet tall and has dark hair, cropped short on the sides and longer on top. He was looking at me intently with his dark brown eyes. I sat back and tossed my perfectly curled, long brown hair over my shoulder.
"So, what is this about Laz?" I asked him.
He ran his fingers through his hair. "You were in danger. There was a confrontation with the Lions, and we got word that they are looking for you..... to retaliate."
His phone started ringing and before answering he looked at me and said, "I'm taking you to the safe house."
The safe house was just as luxurious as our primary residence, but I didn't want to be there, nevertheless. Once inside I went straight to the bedroom. Laz followed.
I sat in a chair and looked between the bed and my husband. With a raised eyebrow I said "So where are you sleeping?"
He gave me an irritated look. "In our bed. Where else would I stay?"
"So does that mean that you're ready to tell me why you have been secretly taking trips to New York without telling me?"
"I already told you. I can't discuss it. You need to move on Gia." He replied.
Wrong thing to say. "Then get the hell out! Find somewhere else to sleep." I yelled, losing my temper.
Apparently, he'd had enough of this too. He stalked toward me and bent down, putting a hand on either armrest, trapping me.
With a voice as smooth as silk he calmly said, "Make me."
Without thinking I raised my hand to slap him. As quick as an asp he caught my wrist. His other hand went to the nape of my neck, pulling my hair so that I had to look up at him.
"Nice try love. But we are sleeping in this bed. Together."
He released me and stepped back. I can't do this, I thought. I knew I had to get out of there. I love it when he gets dominant and assertive, and I knew that if we kept this up, I was going to end up on his cock.