Twisted Devotion to My Mafia Kings

One

Raven - Present Day

I took the embosser stamp and imprinted my store's logo onto one of the books I got into inventory this morning. Ravens Hollow sat in an arched italic font with a picture of a raven with a book in its talons. My heart warmed at the sight.

I never thought I would get to this point in my life. My bookstore really took off when we opened. Chris handled the marketing, but I handled everything else. I had one employee with whom I got along really well, and an entire store filled with everything that I loved. We sold books, candles, merchandise from independent authors and even some sponsored items from large name writers. Things like stickers, T-shirts, hats, hoodies, and bags were our biggest hit besides the books themselves. I even had a lounge area for people to come in and read on their own.

I had thought about opening a café portion of Ravens Hollow for years, but the idea was daunting. But nonetheless, I was pretty successful. At least as a small business owner here in the heart of Boston.

Here I am, 25 years old with a college degree in literature and a minor in business, a business owner and married. I looked at the glittering diamond on my finger and smiled.

No, I was not in love with my husband like the characters in the books here in my store, but I did have an enormous amount of love for him. Speak of the devil and he will show his face.

Chris walked through the door of my bookstore with a coffee tray in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. He had on a crisp black suit and his Rolex shone bright with the natural lighting coming in through the large windows.

"Are these the new books?" He asked with glee.

I know what you're thinking. Chris is gay, so why am I married to him?

The answer is simple but also complicated.

Chris had proposed the idea of a lavender marriage in our senior year of high school. I had finally told him every detail of what I went through growing up after he found me collapsed in the bathroom at school after my blood sugar spiked too high, and I had been without insulin for a few days. He laid everything out on the table. He couldn't come out. Not until he was ready. His parents were pressuring him to step into their world. They refused to do that until he settled down. It was either he pick a woman or they would. He trusts me. He loves me, not romantically but in a familial sense. He said marrying him would give me insurance, freedom, and a family. Freedom to actually go to the doctor, get the medications I need, and the treatments I need. Freedom to do what I wanted with my life without fear of repercussions. We had a deal that we would remain married until either one of us was ready to find true love or if either one of us wanted out. But it would be mutually beneficial for us. He gets to give his parents what they want, and I get what I absolutely need. I hadn't even needed time to think of it. I agreed on the spot.

I know all of his secrets, his fears, his demons. While I may not be able to have s*x with my husband, he absolutely treats me well. He helped me enroll in college and pay for my classes. He helped me set up my bookstore despite my protests about how much he was spending on me. He only said he wanted me to be successful.

He treats me like a queen and, to be honest, it's nice having someone who actually takes care of himself and understands femininity and is yet a strong figure and caretaker in my life. Chris has done so much for me, and it was only fair that I give him this in return.

"Yes! They look amazing, don't they?" I squealed as I finished stamping the page of the last book in the stack.

He had gotten me this embosser as a congratulations gift when I opened the bookstore. He even helped me pick out the name. Ravens Hollow. I tried to pay back the money he lent me to open my store once I started doing well, but he refused. He would say, "You're my wife. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't support your dreams?" And that would always have me temporarily backing off. Emphasis on the word temporary. I would pay him back for all he's done for me, eventually.

I sniffed as he came closer and smiled brightly.

"Whatchya got for me?" I asked with grabby hands towards the coffee cup and the bag.

"A Sugar Free Vanilla Protein Latte with an extra shot of espresso for you with a cheddar Egg white and Turkey bacon English muffin," he said as he handed over the goodies. I was practically salivating.

When we got married, and I had access to better medical care, I started taking my health into my own hands. I got my diabetes under control. I even have one of those Dexcom monitors on my arm to monitor my blood sugar. I got in with a nutritionist to help with my diet and even started working out in the gym with Christ.

It was amazing how the weight started melting off. Instead of a beached whale, I had curves that were deemed desirable, boobs that actually fit into a normal-sized bra. But part of me was always afraid that if I slipped up or didn't stick with eating a normal diet, I would fall back into old habits and blow back up like a balloon. My therapist told me that it was a part of my body dysmorphia and trauma.

I sipped on my latte and sighed as the caffeine hit my soul. I didn't drink coffee for the energy boost. It had no effect on me anymore. At this point, I drank it for love and to avoid the soul-crushing headache I knew I would get if I didn't indulge in the good stuff.

"What did you get?" I asked and narrowed my eyes as he pulled out a glazed donut with crushed up bacon pieces on top. He tried to hide it as he chomped onto it but the greasy smell was unmistakeable.

God, I wanted it.

"You can have one, you know. It's okay every once in a while," he said, holding it out for me to take a bite.

I shook my head. I pulled up my phone and looked at my Dexcom app. When the current number loaded as 98, I smiled. I pulled out my sandwich and grabbed a packet of hot sauce that I kept in a miscellaneous drawer that seemed to be filled with nothing but take out sauces and my favorite pens.

Sprinkling the hot sauce on, I smiled at Chris and said, "I know that. But..."

"I know, I know. Are you excited for tonight? Luxe is open after the remodel, and I have heard nothing but good things!"

Luxe was one of our favorite clubs to go to. It's where Chris and I went to "Play". He got to fulfill his desires, and I got to scratch an itch that even my dildo and vibrator couldn't handle. We hadn't been able to go for a couple of weeks since the owner had closed for remodeling and rebranding after a new sponsor essentially took over, and we've been going a bit stir-crazy.

It's weird calling your husband your wingman for picking up a one-night stand or a good lay, but I trusted his opinion. He always seemed to be right on the money when it came to pointing out the freaks, the assholes, and someone who would absolutely rock my world in bed.

"Yes," I said with a soft smile. "Do you know who's going to be there?"

He shrugged. Chris had been talking with a guy for a few weeks now. Someone he met at the club, but Chris was pretty quiet about that part of himself. He trusted me wholly, but he was always afraid to dive into a relationship, out of fear and out of insecurity in that department.

"I don't know. I actually haven't heard from him in a couple of days. Pretty sure he's ghosting me." I looked at him with sad eyes, and he shook his head. "No. No pity. It is what it is. We're going to go out tonight and have fun. No ifs and or buts about it"

"It's not pity, babe. I'm allowed to be sad for you. I can't help it. I feel.."

"Yes. You feel everyone else's emotions. You're an empathic woman, doll. It's what you do. Don't worry about me. What time are you closing tonight? I'll pick you up and bring you a dress."

"I was planning on closing at 5. I don't want to be out too late or dark. Not if we're going to the club."

He knew my illogical fears about going out in the dark and once again never judged me for it. I was lucky. Lucky to have someone so supportive. If only I didn't feel like I was holding him back.

I ran my fingers through his blonde hair and styled any pieces that were out of place. "Thank you again for breakfast. I had forgotten to eat. I was so excited about the shipment and..."

"No need to thank me. I wanted to do this for you."

"Well, I'm going to. You should get to work before your dad comes in thinking I've held you hostage again. I'll see you tonight?" I asked, steering the conversation away.

"I'll show up with all the dazzle dazzle," Chris said as he walked out the door. The chime hanging above it dinged as he went and left me alone with the scent of fresh paper, bound leather, coffee, and pure romance.