𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐨 is back, healthier, and happier (sorta). She spends her life walking and running the streets of New York City knowing her husband, 𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐑𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐨 and three bodyguards are on her side. Funny thing is...
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Nora's eyes flutter closed, her lashes brushing my chest. I wrap my arms around her small waist and rub her upper back with my thumb, my thin black button-up between my hand and her skin. I hear her sigh as she smiles.
I know she's stressed because of my almost death, which I don't want her worrying about. I believe things will be just fine.
We're Zach and Nora. We've been through so much together, that I doubt someone trying to murder me is going to change anything.
It's fucking weird, though. No one dares to come after me. Except someone did. They had to have known I didn't have my gun on me.
But how did they know? Cameras, duh. Shit. Cameras.
I fiddle with my open button-up over Nora's naked body, shifting it over and over until it's covering her body how I want it to.
I make a mental note to check around the house for cameras.
The shirt is still not right. I bunch it up in my hand in distress.
Where the fuck would there be cameras?!
Nora seems to notice the shirt slipping off of her body so she slides her hand over my fist.
"We'll be fine." She smiles, but I can see the doubt behind her eyes.
I can only imagine her feeling the burning tears behind her eyes for the both of us. I don't cry and she feels like she needs to be strong for me; so she's holding it in.
I kiss her forehead and go back to rubbing her back.
We'll be okay, I mentally tell her. She gets the message because her smile is wide. So wide.
Her phone starts ringing.
She throws her head down on my chest. "Ignore it," she mumbles.
She kisses my neck, leaving a lipstick mark—next to the other four.
I smile. It's still weird for people to see my smile. Well, everyone but Nora. I'm always smiling around my girl.
I'm truly all hers. She's left a mark on me. Literally. Scratches down my back, lipstick marks everywhere, and a fucking ring on my finger. On our mirror, is a kiss mark done by her and our initials in the middle. She must've been bored, but I still don't have the heart to clean it off.
She gets what she wants as long as she's around me. I mean that with every bit of truth in my heart, everything that's mine is hers.
I've never been the sharing type, but I'm already sharing my heart and last name with her. What's a house, money, and a couple of cars?
My office door opens, and Dante steps in the slightest bit. "Fuck, Zachary."
