Chapter 135

Gen knew she shouldn’t be here. A wave of anxiety surged through every nerve beneath her skin, making her pulse race and her breath catch. She sat rigidly upright, her spine as straight as a rod, eyes fixed on the blur of New York streets rushing past the window. She was unarmed, cut off from Matteo, utterly alone in a car with Emmett O’Brien—the notorious Irish mob boss and the illegitimate son of the very man she was supposed to kill. Her legs crossed nervously, and then a sudden realization hit her—damn it! She was completely naked beneath the trench coat she wore. An inward groan escaped her lips. What on earth had she been thinking? She could have shown up at the prison wrapped in a burlap sack, and Matteo would still have given her that low, approving growl he loved to unleash before claiming her fiercely. Was this really the right moment to play the seductress? Absolutely not. But was it worth it? Without a doubt. She recalled the delicious thrill that had rippled through her spine the moment the handcuffs clicked open.

“Did you have a good visit with your husband?” Emmett’s voice cut sharply through the thick silence inside the SUV.

“It was fine, thanks,” Gen replied curtly, keeping her gaze fixed outside.

O’Brien smirked. “I bet he had a lot of fun peeling that trench coat off.”

Gen glanced sideways, catching him wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on, Gen. Are you seriously going to sit there and pretend you’re not naked under that thing?” His teasing tone made her cheeks flush, a blush that spoke volumes without a word. Emmett burst out laughing, slapping his thigh and shaking his head in amusement. He wiped tears from his eyes as he looked out his window. “I don’t get it. How does that guy manage to get the best women working for him or under him? What’s his secret? What makes you girls fall all over him like that?”

Gen exhaled slowly and stared out at the cityscape, unwilling to entertain the mention of other women when it came to her new husband. She considered herself lucky not to have ever met a single ex or anyone Matteo had been linked to. Turning back to O’Brien, she studied his profile—the sharp, slightly upturned nose, piercing sky-blue eyes that sometimes looked green in the right light, and golden hair that shimmered with red highlights near the roots. She thought of Matteo—darkness compared to Emmett’s light—with his deep brown hair, golden-brown hazel eyes, and the crooked notch on the bridge of his nose.