Sunrise Malice: An Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance

In the dream, Mom’s still alive. She’s sitting at the kitchen table smiling at me and Cormac, and she’s telling us how much she loves us. Except Mom’s gone, she’s never been there, and Cormac’s pulling my hair, and Dad’s hitting me in the stomach with a sock filled with quarters, and the whole Hayes Group is gathered around to laugh while I curl around myself and sob until my ribs crack into pieces.

I wake slowly. I see lights first and my ears are ringing. I’m confused as I come to, blinking up at a ceiling with fancy molding recessed light fixtures. My room back home doesn’t look like this. My room in Julien’s apartment doesn’t either. I turn to turn my head, my skull’s aching like someone kicked me right in the face, and all I can do is groan.

“Doc, she’s awake.” There’s a voice next to me. It takes a second before I recognize Julien. His hands hold mine, his big, warm palms squeezing tight. “Brianne? Baby, can you hear me?”

“Where are we?” I mumble.

“Here, drink some water.” He helps me to sit up slightly and presses a glass to my lips. I drink greedily as the room resolves around me.

We’re in a large bedroom. The furniture is expensive and modern, and there’s light coming in through a couple big windows. An older man with graying hair appears on my other side and he starts checking me over, flashing a light in my eyes, asking me questions about how I feel. I answer as honestly as I can, and slowly the explosion comes back to me.

The package. The beeping. Julien throwing himself on top of me as the explosion tore itself into the apartment.

“You have a concussion,” the doctor says as he roots around inside a medical bag. “We’ll have to keep you awake for a while and I want to do some tests at the hospital.”

“Not yet,” Julien growls.

“When it’s safe.” The doctor sounds soothing and like he’s been through this already. “I don’t think you have any other major injuries. Just some cuts and bruises.”

“I think I’m okay,” I say, sitting up better now. Nothing hurts so bad that I can’t stand it, except for my head, and I guess that makes sense. “I’m feeling better already.”

“That’s good.” The doctor pats my knee and glances quickly at Julien as he pulls his hand away. “I’m going to leave some pain medicine. I want you to take it as soon as you feel like you need something.”

I hold a hand out. “Yes, please.”

He laughs lightly. “Wait a little while first. Just to make sure we’re not masking anything.” He stands and walks off. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to consult with Julien for a moment, and I’ll be back to check on you soon, okay?”

The two men leave the room. I hear them speaking quietly in the hall while I try to get my bearings. There’s a closet, an en suite bathroom, a big dresser and some drawers. I recognize my suitcase on the floor in the corner—it seems Julien must’ve packed some things before we left.

He comes back a few seconds later.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” he asks, sitting beside me. The bed creaks under his weight.

“I’m good, I think. I mean, aside from my head. That feels like it exploded.” I give him a weak smile.

He doesn’t return it. “That shouldn’t have happened,” he says, and I can tell he’s struggling to hold back anger. “My men should’ve checked the package.”

“What happened?” I ask and reach out to take his hand. Right now, I’m way beyond caring about anything. All I need is a little comfort.

Which he’s happy to provide. He squeezes back and leans closer to me.

“It was a bomb,” he explains. “We’re still trying to figure out what kind. From what I can tell, a man dressed in a UPS uniform came into the building, walked past the front desk, and took the box straight up to our door. He knocked, and by the time he was in the stairwell, the bomb went off. I’m guessing he was watching for us to open the door and activated it on a timer.”

I nod to myself, squeezing my eyes closed. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“You protected me. You knocked me over and covered me.”

“Did more harm than good, I think.”

“Julien—”

“I’m fine,” he says again, sharper this time. “Cuts and bruises, nothing major.” He leans down and touches my face gently with one big palm. “That was too close, Brianne. That was way too close.”

“I know.” I lean into his hand. I crave his touch so badly right now. Maybe the explosion knocked a few things loose, or maybe it made it clear how fragile I really am.

How this can all be taken away so quickly.

“You’ll be safe here, baby. I promise. We’re going to find the bastard that planted the bomb, and we’re going to make Dusan pay.”

I shiver and smile to myself. He hasn’t called me baby before, but I kind of like it, especially with his slight French accent.

“I know you are. But, for right now, can you just—” I look up at him and blink a few times. “Can you just sit with me?”

He adjusts himself and gets into bed. I lean against his chest as he wraps his arms around me. “That’s good?”

“That’s good,” I say, closing my eyes before jerking them open again. Can’t risk falling asleep. “We’re at the mansion, right?”

“Out of the frying pan and into the fire,” he jokes.

“You probably shouldn’t talk about fires right now.”

“Good point.”

“How bad is the apartment?”

“Ruined,” he says with a sigh. “For a while, anyway.”

“Did anyone else get hurt?”

“No, thankfully. It was a targeted explosion. Not big enough to do serious damage, but enough that it would’ve killed us if we hadn’t reacted fast enough.”

“If you hadn’t reacted. I was going to start looking for a label.”

“You would’ve heard the beeping.”

“And been blown to pieces.” I tilt my head so I can look at his face. My brain throbs, but it’s manageable, all things considered. “Thank you.”

He brushes his fingers down my cheek. “You’re my wife, Brianne.”

“I guess that comes with certain perks?”

“Like frequent assassination attempts, apparently.” His jaw works, and I know how hard this must be for him.

I reach up and tug at his hair. His eyes are hooded as he allows himself to be pulled down, and I press my lips gently to his. It’s a soft kiss, almost even chaste, but it sends a river of cascading pleasure rippling down my spine as excitement pools between my legs. I can’t believe how badly I want this man, despite everything, and for a few seconds all my worry fades into the background hum of my mind as I focus on the feeling of his lips.

They’re soft and firm, and he makes this incredible little grunting sound as I press closer and kiss him more eagerly, my mouth open. I feel greedy, maybe because I was almost blown to little pieces, but mostly because I’ve been resisting the urge to do this for the past week and screw it. Attempted bombings are like a mulligan.

I get a do-over, and I want this.

He breaks the kiss off. I feel dizzy and overwhelmed. I can tell he does too as he gently kisses me one more time and extracts himself from the bed.

“Pain medication,” he says.

“You’re the doctor now?” My cheeks are flushed and my heart’s pounding. My skull throbs with each beat of my heart. “Actually, you know what, that’s not a bad idea.”

He’s smiling as he gives me water and pills. I take them and drink down the whole glass.

“Kim knows you’re okay, by the way. I called her earlier when you were still unconscious. She’ll be happy to hear your voice.”

I sigh with relief. “You’re a good man.”

“Not even close.” He kisses me again.

There’s a knock at the door. It’s not loud, but it makes me flinch all the same. Julien’s eyes narrow as he strides away and answers it.

“Don’t knock on my wife’s door again,” he growls at Jean, who looks understandably confused.

“Uh, that’s the normal, polite thing to do, right? I mean⁠—”

“Spread the word. Nobody knocks. Get a fucking doorbell installed.”

Jean seems totally bewildered. “Seriously?”

“I’m not fucking around,” Julien growls.

“It’s fine,” I call out. “Seriously, I’m just a little raw. It’ll be fine.”

He ignores me. “Pass it along and get it done.”

“I understand.” Jean nods and glances in at me before focusing on Julien again. “We have to talk.”

“It can wait.”

“No, it really can’t. Pascal’s waiting in the basement.”

That must have some deeper significance I don’t fully understand, because Julien stiffens for a moment before turning to look at me. “I’ll be back shortly. I have guards on your door. Please, stay in bed and don’t fall asleep.”

“I’ll do my best,” I say, smiling a little. The pain in my head is receding which means the pain pills are working, at least. “Go on, I’ll be fine.”

He hesitates, but shakes his head with frustration and follows Jean out of the room.

I sink back into the pillows and try not to think about the sound of a bomb ripping my life to shreds.