Silent Lies: An Age Gap Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance

I watch my daughters run to the back door of the house, followed by three dogs wearing huge colorful bows around their necks, then straighten and face my wife.

“It wasn’t you, hmm?” I wrap my hand around her waist and lift her against me, crushing her to my chest.

“It’s only watercolor paint.” She smiles. “It’ll wash away.”

“And the stickers?”

“That one was all girls. I’ll try to peel them off with the nail polish remover.”

“Just leave the blasted things.”

Having three daughters is a handful. Having daughters who are all a carbon copy of my wife certainly makes life unpredictable. And exciting.

“You said you’d like us to crash another svadba,” he says. “So, here we are.”

“But . . . but whose svadba is this?”

Drago leans forward and places his palm on my cheek. “It’s ours, baby.”

I swallow, trying to keep my composure. And I thought I couldn’t love this man more than I already do. My lips are trembling so badly, I can hardly speak. “Why?”

“Because I know you wanted one.” He slams his mouth to mine, then mumbles into my lips. “But no dancing on the table, Sienna.”

I just smile. What kind of svadba would it be if the bride didn’t dance on the table?