“What did I do now?” I ask, glancing at her through the mirror by our dresser as I adjust my cuff links.
“You were planning to kill me,” she says.
I purse my lips, walking over to her, the mattress dipping beneath me when I sit down.
“We’ve talked about this.” I reach out and press my hand against her cheek.
She scoffs. “Yeah, well, what are we supposed to tell people when they ask how we got together? Oh, my husband is a romantic. He forced me into marriage and then drafted up a fake will so he could kill me himself and inherit everything that’s rightfully mine.”
I smirk.
“But don’t worry,” she continues. “It all worked out in the end. I have a magical pussy and he just couldn’t stay away from the siren’s call.”
Leaning over, I press a kiss to her lips. “That’s true.”