Toxic Love: A Dark Enemies To Lovers Mafia Romance

For what feels like a solid minute, I stare silently at her, trying to convince myself that I heard her wrong. But we both know I didn’t.

Her face turns red, as if she’s embarrassed.

“What?” I growl quietly.

Tempest looks away, turning to fuss with the lock again. “Nothing,” she mumbles. “I…I didn’t mean that.”

I cross the distance between us, grabbing her by the chin and turning her to face me.

“Yes. You. Did.” My pulse thuds as I peer into her face.

There’s not a single trace of lie.

Holy fuck.

“Jesus, Tempest…”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” she blurts, looking away. “Look, it’s nothing, just forget⁠—”

She jumps as my hand on her jaw pulls her face and her gaze back to me. “Tell me.”

“Dante, forget⁠—”

“No,” I growl. “Tell me.”

Her gaze drops, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

“Short answer, it’s this liver thing, and usually only babies get it, but…” A shadowed, wry look crosses her face. “Well, lucky me.”

Fuck.

I’m not expecting or prepared for the wave of emotions that hits me. Anger, for one. I want to tell myself it’s anger at her for not disclosing this before. But it’s not. It’s that I’m angry at the unfairness of someone as young as her having something like this.

“My body doesn’t effectively break down fats and proteins, which creates a buildup of something called methylmalonic acid in my blood.” She raises her eyes to me, a dry smile on her twisting lips. “So, I’m literally toxic. My blood is, at least.”

I don’t immediately say anything because how the hell do I respond to that.

“No one knows about this,” Tempest blurts into the silence. “I mean no one. And I want to keep it that way.”

“Your brothers, though⁠—”

She shakes her head. “Not even them.”

I bring my hand back up to cup her jaw again, and raise her gaze to mine.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I actually have no idea…” She looks away. “I guess you caught me a sharing mood,” she mutters sarcastically.

My head slowly shakes side to side, still not quite comprehending.

“You’re…”

“Dying, Dante,” Tempest says quietly. “Ceasing to live.”

“How soon?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Tempest…”

“To be determined. But…six months, maybe?”

What the fuck.

The pain in my chest is sharper than the blade she tried to stab me with earlier. It also cuts much deeper. I’m trying to wrap my head around that.

I mean this is Tempest fucking Black—aka the pain in my fucking ass who weaseled her way into a blood marker marriage to me. She’s not my actual wife. She’s not my girlfriend.

We don’t even fucking like each other.

So why the hell does learning all this make me want to destroy something?

I slowly shake my head. “Tempest…”

“Don’t,” she mumbles. “Don’t say you’re sorry or something else stupid and make me regret saying anything even more than I already do.” She exhales heavily, looking away. “God, I can’t believe I told you that.”

“Why the hell haven’t you told anyone else?”

“My own reasons.”

“Like?”

“They’re my reasons, Dante,” she says tiredly.

“That’s why you took Maeve’s place.”

“Bingo,” she says dryly.

“It’s a little easier to dive onto a grenade when you’re already bleeding out,” I growl.

“Basically.” She exhales again. “Look, I know what I signed up for. And I’ll play the part when I have to.” Her eyes lock on mine. “I’ll be your wife.”

She blushes the second she says it, looking away quickly.

“And…after?”

“Well,” her lips twist in a sardonic smile. “After, I’m afraid I’ll have to retire the role.”

I frown deeply. Tempest smirks.

“You’re gonna have to be cool with gallows humor, Dante.”

This is surreal. And again, this is not the reaction I would have pictured myself having. Not because I’m a heartless monster who doesn’t give a shit that this woman is on a countdown. But again…we’re not really a thing. We’re virtually strangers, and it’s clear that all we have in common is the white hot sexual chemistry between us.

“Look, you don’t have to worry, Dante. I’m not telling anyone, like I said. And when I go…” she shrugs. “You’ll be golden.”

I frown. “What?”

“You’ll never have to marry again to appease them.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I went to lunch the other day on Arthur Avenue⁠—”

“I know.”

“And I met a lot of mafia women, and you know what I noticed? The ones who were married were…okay. Meanwhile the unmarried ones had this look like there was a clock ticking down the seconds until they were married themselves. But the ones who were free, sitting pretty, and doing just fine?” She shrugs. “The widows. They’d already proven themselves to your world. They did it: they got married, and then some higher power or karma or whatever took it away. They’d gotten their participation trophy, you know? They didn’t have to play the game anymore.”

I arch a brow. “You’re saying I’ll be like an old Italian widow.”

She grins. “Something like that.”

I suck on my teeth. Tempest clears her throat.

“Anyway…” She trails off, looking down at her hands. “I guess we should probably get back to the reception before⁠—”

“I’m going to bring in a doctor I know.”

Her gaze lifts to mine, a look on her face I can’t quite read before she rolls her eyes.

“Dante, I’m done looking for a miracle.”

“So you’re fine with dying by the age of twenty-five?” I growl. “That’s okay with you?”

“I mean, it wouldn’t be my first pick,” she snaps back. “But what am I going to do? Cry for the next six months?”

So it’s not that she’s okay with it, or at peace with it. It’s that she’s unafraid of it, and she’s facing it on her terms.

It’s…foolish. But admirable, in a way.

Tempest starts to fix herself up a little more, turning to mess with her hair in a mirror. I start to get dressed again too, but as I’m tucking myself back into my pants, my gaze lands on the bit of blood on my dick.

I’m not bothered by it. But still…

“Tempest, what I want from you for the next six months is honesty. I mean it.”

She looks puzzled, but she nods. “Okay?”

“Just now, when I fucked you.” I walk over to where she’s standing by the door. I reach out and cup her jaw, my eyes burning hotly down into hers. “Was that your first time?”

Tempest is silent for a moment. Then she reaches up and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and it’s like she brushes a sly smile to her face at the same time. Her hand reaches behind her, opening the door to my office.

“It is now.”

She slips out the door without another word, shutting it behind her.