Married To The Mafia: Book II

6 - Visualstorm.

"You look amazing."

Pamela smiled at Devlin but the smile wavered when she looked down at her dress warily. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. It's perfect." Devlin said grinning broadly then his brows puckered. "Except for one thing. Well, two."

She looked at him expectantly. "Okay?"

"That slit is too thigh high and that neckline is too low. Go get changed into something more appropriate."

Pamela groaned and Devlin grimaced. Had he gone too far this time? Had his constant bickering driven her to madness?

"Devlin, this is the third dress I'm putting on because of your complaints. What do you want me to do?"

"Dress like you're heading to church, that's what."

"Don't be ridiculous. My neckline is not too low and neither is this slit too high." She walked to the sitting room mirror and studied her look. "To me, this is perfect."

Well, it actually was. Her look was not too revealing and it fit her very nicely, but he would be damned before he let that blind fuckwit have another slice of his wife's sultry body.

He'd been gratified when she'd told him they'd not slept with each other for those three years, which only showed that Deaton was a dumb head – because he could not imagine anyone resisting her body – but they'd surely made out which was just as annoying. His jealousy was unhealthy, he admitted but he couldn't help it.

"I know." Devlin said sulkily and continued. "I was only worried you'd outshine other ladies and all the men would queue to dance with the belle of the ball."

Her laughter reverberated through the room and into his heart, in beautiful, cozy waves that made him feel special and happy. Everything was going well – for the moment, but there was a glitch in his otherwise perfect life – Marcel Deaton. He didn't know why but he didn't trust him.

Devlin had had a background search done on Marcel Deaton and had come up with zilch. Not even a goddamned parking ticket violation. In short, everything he'd come up with was barely enough to fill a page. Devlin knew that if their positions were reversed and anyone did a background research on him, what they would find would fill a book.

For the fact that Deaton had been a traitor and had been in sync with a lunatic but had a squeaky clean background made Devlin more wary of him. People like him knew how to disappear without leaving a trace. He was smart.

This was why he didn't believe the cock-and-bull, trumped up story about him being blind.

His suspicions had began from the very first day he saw him again. He'd noticed something suspicious about the way he acted, as if he was pretending or trying to play victim. There was also something suspicious about his Bruce Wayne knock-off aide who looked like he should be wearing breechcloths and carrying a spear than being an aide, and to a blind man for that matter. He would chew copper wire if his guts instincts was wrong. He just needed to carry out his plan.

Yes, he'd drawn out a plan with Cody on how to prove if Deaton was really blind or if he was bullshitting the whole world, and most especially his wife.

The said wife smiled at him. "Well, my makeup. Hope it's okay?"

He leaned into the couch and did his best not to sigh. Why women always asked men about their attires and accessories and make up was funny to him. In the end he didn't care. Just look beautiful. End of story.

"Hmm-hmm."

She turned to look at the mirror. "I think the highlighting is too much. Also my lip gloss should be nude and not this bright red. Right babe?"