I sat on the property’s private beach. Ella was back at the house, trying hard to find out information about the unknown cousin I had. I didn’t hold out much hope that piece of information would help us. Though it remained to be seen.
I watched Nonno and Matteo play in the sand; Grandpa sat in a beach chair while Matteo shoveled sand from left to right and then right back. Such a simple act, but it filled my heart with longing. I remembered spending time with my parents at our beach home in Connecticut. They always made time for me, helping me build castles in the sand.
All I wanted was to keep Matteo safe, to see him grow up to become a man. Now, I wasn’t so sure if I’d succeed. As messed up as everything was and after everything Luciano had done to me, I still had no doubt he and Nonno would keep Matteo safe. But I really wanted to be part of my son’s life. I just didn’t see any other alternative. There were only two options – run or be killed. Living on the run wouldn’t be a good life to offer anyone, much less a child.
And I really didn’t want to get killed. Despite my conversation with Ella earlier today, the chances of us succeeding in killing my family along with Benito King and his descendants were slim. We weren’t criminal masterminds, and we certainly weren’t killers.
The yearly fundraiser my grandmother held would be our chance to get closer to my uncle and grandmother. But the problem was, I didn’t know how to go about killing them at such a public event. Or maybe that would be where we set the trap. Both my grandmother and uncle had guards protecting them, but if I could somehow get them alone, I’d have a chance to get rid of them. I had to find a way. I worried about the threats at Matteo’s life, now that they knew about my son.
I looked back to Matteo and his grandfather, building a tower. Well, Nonno was building it. Matteo was probably just digging a hole.
A tower.
“Come here, Grace.” My father’s voice travelled across the sand dunes, his voice carrying on the wind, along with the sounds of waves washing across the shoreline.
“Coming.” I ran towards my parents, my feet feeling heavy as each of my bare feet hit the sand. I loved the feeling of sand on my toes but running in it was too hard for my little body. Occasionally, I’d trip and fall into the sand. At least the sand cushioned the fall.
When I finally reached them, I threw myself into my mother’s arms. She was beautiful. Her soft smile and voice always made everything better.
Lifting me up into her arms, my dad leaned over and placed a gentle kiss onto my forehead.
“I have a story to tell you, my little Grace.”
“I’m not little anymore,” I objected, on a pout. “I turned five yesterday.”
“And you are such a big girl,” my mother cooed. “But you will always be our little girl. Always our baby.”
I didn’t like their explanation back then. I didn’t want to be a baby anymore. It was only after I had Matteo that I understood those words. God how I missed them! They were torn from me, and the moment I lost them, I had been thrown into the Romano’s greedy clutches. Yes, we shared the last name but my uncle and grandmother were nothing like my father and mother. They were nothing like Grandma and Grandpa Astor.
“Look, Grace,” my father’s voice had me follow this finger pointing to our beach house. I eagerly stared but couldn’t grasp what he was pointing at. “Our beach house used to be a tower many, many years ago. Your great-great-grandfather Astor bought the tower and built a house around it.”
I stared wide-eyed at the house. “Where is the tower now?”
“Remember where you and Mommy always sit to watch the boats come in?” I nodded eagerly. “That used to be the highest part of that tower.”
“That used to be my favorite part when I was your age too,” my mother chimed in a soft voice.
“Did Grandma read you stories there?” I asked eagerly. “Just like you read me stories.”
My mother’s soft chuckle filled my ears. “She did. And guess what?”
“What?” I whispered, eager to know everything.
“Sometimes, we would sneak out of there through the secret passage. We’d go to the beach and watch the sunset and Grandpa never even knew.”
I giggled. “You fooled him.”
“Yes, we did. The secret passage is a good hiding spot and lets you sneak out without anyone ever knowing. It is our family secret.” I stared at my parents wide-eyed, eager to know how to find the secret passage. “Want me to show you?”
I nodded eagerly and insisted on seeing it right away. It became my favorite part of the house.
Family secret. That was my Mom’s family’s only secret. Too bad they never had a chance to warn me about the many family secrets on Dad’s side.
Matteo’s laugh pulled me out of the memory, and I watched the scene in front of me with a smile. He was happy, loved it here. I wasn’t sure how that would work out, but there was no chance I wouldn’t try to eliminate the threatening shadows lurking over him. I might not have a daughter, but Matteo might have one in the future. This wasn’t only about saving my son or myself. It was for his children and grandchildren too.
Okay, step one. Eliminate uncle and dear old grandma. Step two, eliminate Benito and Marco King. Possibly Cassio and his brother too. It was what would probably end me. I was no match for any member of the King family. Contingency step two, if eliminating the King family turned out to be unsuccessful, Ella and I run. Alone.
Alone. Even that word by itself hurt. Neither Ella nor I wanted to be alone. We wanted a semblance of normalcy. It has been so long since we had it. And more than anything else, I wanted to raise my son. Just thinking about a life without him made my lungs burn with each breath I took.
If I could find a way to make that damn agreement null and void, maybe I’d come out of it alive. Both Ella and I. There was no way that something like that was legal. I had to scoff to myself though. It wasn’t as if men in this world did much by the book.
I mean, just look at me and my husband. He kidnapped me, married me, made me fall in love with him, and then pulled the trigger. Who would have ever thought that one shared moment of locked gazes across the dark nightclub would get us here?
Gabriella and I stood at the bar of the nightclub. We had just graduated, both of us alone. No parents, no family to witness, just the two of us. But the point was we graduated. We had each other.
The bar was crowded and neither one of us was good at pushing our way through. So, we waited patiently until it was our turn to order.
“I hope it’s worth the wait,” I yelled to Ella, rolling my eyes.
My eyes scanned the room. We haven’t even gotten our first drink and there were women already stumbling all around. This club was one of the newer ones and completely redone. It has become one of the hit clubs to visit and be seen at. Neither Ella nor I cared about being seen, so we hadn’t been here yet.
The black crystal chandelier hung over the extravagant bar, accenting the red marble countertop as well as the booths surrounding the space.
Someone bumped into me and I almost lost my balance, my whole body shooting forward when a pair of man’s hands wrapped around my waist to steady me.
“Shit.” I hated crowds. And drunk people that acted like jerks.
“You alright?”
A deep man’s voice against my ear had me turning my face towards it, and that was when I saw him.
The beautiful hazel eyes shattered me the moment our eyes locked. And then he slowly started putting me back together, only to shatter me again three months later.
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” My heart pounded under my rib cage. I swore he must be able to feel it, because it was exactly where his hands were.
Against his jet-black hair, his eyes were more prominent, more green than hazel. The five o’clock shadow on his sharp cheekbones and those beautiful, full lips made me want to trace his face with my fingers.
Everything about the man that I met that night, my future husband, made my muscles tense and go rigid. I wasn’t sure if it was a warning of self-preservation that I ignored or awareness. Did my body recognize the man that would bring me the ultimate pleasure? Or demise?
One kiss.
One night.
It was a hard and fast falling.
Yes, I bickered with him and fought him once I found out he was using me for his revenge. But at the same time, I craved him. The taste of the passion he gave me that first night, I wanted it every night.
Luciano was my ultimate vice. Probably my ultimate destruction. Whatever drove him the last time to kidnap me and force me into marriage, it must still be there.
“Gracy, what are you thinking about?” Nonno’s voice startled me. I was so deep in thoughts I didn’t even notice him approaching me. I met his gaze, full of concern and softness.
I wondered why Luciano’s father never mentioned he knew my parents. Or that he was meant to be my guardian. How did they know each other? And why didn’t Luciano know? He and his father kept no secrets between the two.
My eyes sought out Matteo. He was still in the same spot, slowly taking down the tower. Just as I intended to do.
“Can I ask you something?” I turned my gaze back to Nonno. He had never given me reason not to trust him. Unlike Luciano, his father had consistently been kind and welcoming. Even more importantly, he had been honest.
“Of course.” He must have expected a long discussion because he sat himself next to me.
“How did you know my parents?”
“You too, huh?”
“What do you mean?”
“Luciano asked the same question.”
“Oh.”
“Your father and I had a common goal. It was to stop Alphonso Romano and your grandmother from human trafficking. But then we became friends. My wife and your mother got along well, and obviously your father and I.”
My father and Luciano’s father were friends. He must have trusted Nonno explicitly if he designated him as my guardian. More than his own family. Two such vastly different backgrounds, yet they were friends. Luciano and I had different backgrounds too.
Except, Nonno didn’t point a gun at my father’s head. Luciano did, however, point it at mine.
“Your father was a good man, Gracy.” I knew he was. Both my parents were great people.
“I know,” I murmured low, my eyes locked on my son. “I just wish they didn’t leave me so clueless. You know?”
In a blink, both my parents were dead. And I knew nothing of what awaited me. I went into it blind, trusting and came out burned. By my uncle, grandmother, and finally Luciano. They all used me.
“He wanted to protect you.”
“He should have made me stronger.” My voice cracked. “I walked into all of it blind and-.”
I couldn’t finish the sentence. The memory of those dark days when I had to endure my uncle and grandmother screamed in my mind. I pushed those memories out of my mind. I couldn’t go there now.
“Your parents loved you,” Nonno’s voice was soft.
“I know.” I turned to lock eyes with him. “Did you know Mom and Dad made you my guardian?”
He nodded. “I did. And I went after him when he took you. It was your parents’ wish to keep you away from them. I wanted to honor it more than anything. But I lost.”
Somehow it felt like Nonno lost a lot because of it.
“Was it really an accident?” I knew the official story. I’ve read the newspaper but I suspected there was more to it.
“No, Gracy.” Nonno sounded tired. “It wasn’t an accident. He went against your uncle and his mother. I helped your father. I didn’t want women trafficked in my territory. Or anywhere for that matter. We fought them together. Your uncle retaliated with the help of Benito King. It ended up costing us a lot. You, me, and many others.”
I was scared to ask, but I needed to know.
“Nonno, what did it cost you?” I whispered. I had a feeling it would be a revelation that might change our dynamics forever.
“It cost me my wife and my daughter.” A gasp escaped me. My hand reached out and took his wrinkled big hand into mine. Luciano lost his mother and sister to my family. No wonder he hated my guts when we first met. No wonder he kidnapped me to use me as his leverage.
“How did they die?” On one hand, I didn’t want to know. But it was time I learned.
“My wife and I took our daughter out for her birthday dinner,” he explained, sadness evident in his voice. “Luciano got held up with his casino business. I thank God each day he wasn’t there. When we left the restaurant, we were cornered. My men assigned to protect us were already dead. I didn’t have my gun on me. Lucia, my daughter, didn’t like guns or violence. Alphonso’s men shot my wife and daughter in front of my eyes and there was nothing I could do. I fought them but one man against ten wasn’t a match. Your uncle watched it all from his car, the window rolled down, smoking a cigar and drinking a beer.”
I took his hand into mine and squeezed it. I couldn’t even imagine the pain he felt. You never get over something like that. It was impossible to get over something like that. His tone of voice was heart wrenching; to have witnessed your daughter and wife murdered in cold blood like that was unfathomable.
“I’m so sorry, Nonno.”
“You have lost your parents. We all have lost something.”
I kept my hand over his. He was right, we all lost a lot.
“He killed Ella’s parents too,” I muttered the admission. “Her father refused to work with him when he realized Alphonso was using him to smuggle women. So he killed them both.”
“I know,” he replied. “Her father was a crooked politician but he had limits. Sometimes I worked with him, but after losing my wife and daughter, I wanted nothing to do with the business. Luciano took over and he built his own way of doing business. Only with people he explicitly trusted. And all the while he went after your uncle and grandmother, to make them pay. But he didn’t know I started it all when I refused to let Alphonso into my territory, working with your father. What tipped your uncle into pure violence was that I refused to give you up.”
“You should have,” I rasped, the tears stuck in my throat. “It cost you so much.”
“And it cost you a lot too,” he replied. “You suffered under Sophia and Alphonso Romano. Your parents wanted you to be safe and protected.”
Swallowing hard, I couldn’t help but feel guilty at Nonno’s loss, my parents’ loss. All because the King family wanted a fucking Romano belle for their auction.
“I miss Mom and Dad,” I choked the words out. “It never goes away, does it?”
Nonno’s other hand cupped my one cheek. “No, it doesn’t. But we have Matteo now. We have a future in front of us. You, Luciano, Matteo.”
I swallowed hard.
“And you too,” I rasped.
He chuckled softly. “I’m an old man. I will be joining my wife and daughter sooner than you and your husband. And definitely sooner than our little Matteo.” I glanced at my son, his concentration on the sand. He had a big grin on his face, and the breeze shifted his curls onto his forehead.
I would make sure my son has a chance to grow up without the threat of the Romano family. My uncle and grandmother had to die. Anyone that threatened my son’s life would be eliminated.
“I hope you stay around for a long time,” I told him. “To see Matteo grow up.” Because I wasn’t so sure that I’d live that long.
The sound of seagulls above us and waves rolling off the shower mixed with Matteo’s enthusiastic babble, while Nonno and I both sat lost in our own memories and regrets. At least I had those. Wishing Nonno hadn’t tried to do the right thing so his wife and daughter would still be here, among the living.
“What are you thinking, daughter?” he questioned me. “With such sorrow on your face.”
“It kills me that my family hurt your daughter and wife just because you helped my dad,” I rasped, finding it hard to look at him. Guilt slowly spread through my chest that he lost two important people in his life because of my fucked up, cruel family.
“No, Gracy. There were more reasons.” He turned his gaze towards the horizon, the beautiful view lost to the bloody memories. “Luciano grew our territory and our fortune fast. It made Benito King and Alphonso Romano jealous. Your uncle wanted to use New Jersey and Connecticut along with New York to move flesh. Luciano intercepted all their shipments and freed women. I told Benito and Alphonso we would never allow it to happen. So for a long time, they searched for a way to eliminate the Vitale family. It started with killing your parents, continued by intercepting my guardianship of you, and ended with the death of my own wife and daughter.”
So many lives lost just for the greed of two men. “We should kill them,” I muttered under my breath.
Nonno’s sad chuckle startled me. “Oh, my little Gracy. This world has hardened you.”
He had no idea.
Nonno’s words played in my mind on repeat. So many deaths and suffering caused by the greed and cruelty of my uncle and grandmother. Yes, I had never killed anyone but those two surely deserved to die. I never thought I’d consider killing a human being but those two… I wanted to kill. The need to see them suffer and get what they deserve choked me. I guess this was what they called thirst for revenge.
They killed my parents.
They killed Luciano’s mother and sister.
They killed Gabriella’s parents.
How many more lives did they take? How many women suffered a cruel fate because of them? All that blood was on their hands. And without a doubt, I knew they’d try to use my son if it worked in their favor.
Uncle and Grandmother had to be eliminated.
I felt tired, drained, maybe even a tad bit cranky. Past and bitterness would do that to you. Though activities from last night when I ended up in my husband’s bed probably contributed to that too. I couldn’t even say I regretted it. I was more than a willing participant. But after learning that my uncle killed Luciano’s mother and sister, I finally saw what should have been evident the moment we met.
We were never meant to be.
It took less than a half of a week for my entire world to become a big, tangled mess. The threat of my uncle loomed over my head, the belle agreement of my family with the Kings was a noose around my neck, and I had no solid plan. Yes, kill evil old Uncle and Grandma but the question was how. And then, how would I ensure I didn’t end up in prison? I mean, these people killed all the time and they got away with it! Mobsters must take some lessons somewhere along the way on how to get away with crimes. I need that damn book… Get away with crime for Dummies.
I scoffed in my head. It didn’t take a genius to see that even if Ella and I got lucky and succeeded in killing my uncle and grandmother, the chances of us killing Benito King were slim to none. He had soldiers and mercenaries guarding him and Marco King. And then on top of all of it, we still might have to run because we’d be criminals. Fugitives.
At least I’ll have a job with the Ruthless King. Yes, it was all about priorities.
If I could only think of a trap. A safe trap for Ella and I, so we could kill them all. Because just like Ella, I’d like to live a bit longer. I’d love to see my son grow up.
And damn it, if I could enjoy my husband’s bed for a bit longer, that would be a nice plus. Even if he agitated me most of the time. Like now.
Luciano got it in his ass that we should have a formal, family dinner. We were in the dining room that could easily seat a hundred people. It was just the nine of us. Ella sat next to Massimo, Matteo between Luciano and I, his father on my right, Cassio next to Nonno, Luca, Alessio, and Nico split between my side and Nonno’s side.
It couldn’t be my luck for Luciano to just take his friends and Massimo to have dinner out. But no, it almost felt like he was including Ella and I in his small circle. I just wanted to eat dinner with Matteo and Ella in peace, without watching out for any possible landmines in our conversation. Like in Italy, before our whole life got uprooted.
“Grace, I hear you studied music.” Cassio started small talk.
“Yep.”
“Do you sing or play an instrument?” Nico asked curiously.
Ella and I shared a glance. We were both on the edge and tense, waiting for some bomb to drop. She was irritated that finding out information on Uncle’s offspring proved to be elusive and was scared that at any second, we’d be dragged into the auction, sold to a cruel mobster.
More and more I thought about it, I was certain that killing my uncle and grandmother, then living on the run might be our only viable option.
“Piano,” I retorted curtly, aware that my one word responses made this situation worse. I just wasn’t in the mood for chitchatting and pretending everything was great while Ella’s and my lives hung by a thread.
“Where did you study music?” Nico Morrelli asked. He eyed me curiously. I learned he was the mobster that controlled Maryland and Washington D.C. In fact, among all the men at this table, they controlled almost all of the East Coast. I heard them reference Raphael Santos, and I knew from overhearing my uncle’s conversation that the Santos family controls Florida. If Raphael Santos was Luciano’s friend, then that must mean that my uncle lost his Florida connection too.
“Juilliard,” I told him briefly. I had a feeling they all knew everything about me and Ella, so not sure why they bothered making conversation.
“Well, you are a chatty Cathy,” Luca chimed in.
“If you want to talk,” I spat back sarcastically, “-be my guest and talk away.”
“How come you two parked yourself in Sicily?” Cassio asked, ignoring my sarcasm. “Especially knowing that Luciano’s ancestors and my ancestors came from Sicily.”
Matteo shoved the spoon full of spinach that I attempted to feed him out of his face.
“First of all, how in the hell would I know where your mother’s ancestors are from. Second of all, haven’t you ever heard of the term hide in plain sight? And I never told you where we parked ourselves. Which tells me you already know it all so I’m not sure why we are bothering with questions.”
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. Okay, so maybe I was the landmine ready to explode at any second.
“How would you know my mother’s family is from Sicily?” Cassio questioned. That man was sharp.
“The King family is from the Welsh area in England,” I answered him as Matteo kept pushing the spoon away. “Therefore, I assumed you must be talking about your mother’s family.”
“It was good you went there, Gracy,” Nonno interrupted, giving me a comforting smile. “Where was our Matteo born?”
I knew Nonno hoped he was born in his hometown, or the one of his wife. The way he took to Matteo made me painstakingly aware what my son was missing. Nonno and Luciano were his family, just as Ella and I were Matteo’s family. “In Italy, not in Sicily.” I kept my answer short and returned my attention to my son.
“Come on, Matteo,” I begged in a strenuous voice. “Just a bite.”
“No. no,” he objected, turning his face away from me.
I felt on the edge of my seat waiting for another bomb to drop. This felt like living in a mental battle zone for me. I had to keep my guard up at all times. Yes, at night I tumbled between the sheets, but that only impacted my heart and body. This was so much more.
“What have you fed him?” I asked Nonno, cranky.
“We just had gelato for a snack when we came back from the beach but that was hours ago.”
“How many hours ago?” I gritted, my nerves like a rubber band, ready to snap. We were happy in our little town on an island in Italy. Our whole life got interrupted in a matter of a week. At this point, Matteo basically demanded only gelato – for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And now I was having dinner surrounded by ruthless mobsters.
“Maybe an hour ago,” he replied, a guilty expression on his face.
I dropped the silverware with a clunk, everyone’s eyes snapping to me. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in, then exhaled. I reached for any ounce of patience I could muster. It was nowhere to be found.
“I’m sorry, Gracy,” Nonno must have sensed I was teetering on the edge. Him calling me Gracy didn’t help at all. It reminded me even more how happy we were in Italy, and now we were here facing danger at every corner. I had no solutions and was tempted to beg someone, anyone to help us. But the people at this table were the reason we were in this predicament.
Well, except Nonno.
I swallowed hard, reining in all the control left within me. Don’t lose your shit. Don’t lose your shit.
“Let’s go get a bath and then bedtime,” I told my son, placing the napkin onto the table and got up. I’d changed into white jeans and an emerald green t-shirt for dinner. I refused to go all out for these men, but both Ella and I agreed, we shouldn’t show up to dinner wearing yoga pants. Although it was awfully tempting.
I kicked off my high heels, ready to pull Matteo out of his high chair. No sense in strutting around the house in high heels. I wasn’t a trophy wife.
“Here, let me try,” Luciano offered. Before I could object, he picked up Matteo’s fork and continued, “Okay, Matteo. I know veggies are kind of gross. But let’s dip them into the sauce, and it makes them taste better.”
“He doesn’t like to mix his food,” I told him but just as the words left my mouth, my jaw just about dropped. I watched in amazement as Matteo accepted a forkful of green beans dipped into sauce and chewed. I waited, holding my breath. He would spit it all out any second.
Any moment now.
My son swallowed it and then grinned at Luciano. “Più,” he demanded. More.
I shook my head in disbelief.
“Little traitor,” Ella called out softly.
Everyone around the table chuckled, and I shook my head. Completely unexpected evening. I caught Nonno’s look, watching his son and grandson. Deep inside, I knew without a doubt that Nonno knew Matteo was a Vitale. He knew he was looking at his grandson.
Decidedly pushing that suspicion away, I glanced at Ella. It didn’t escape me that Luciano’s friends observed Ella and I for any and all movements. Like they were studying us.
I sat back down. Taking the glass of wine off the table, I took a sip.
“Whatever. As long as he eats.” I leaned back into my seat and watched in amazement. “Yep, you can feed him for the rest of dinner. I’m taking a break.”
Luciano’s and Matteo’s eyes raised to me, the identical mischief in them, and my heartbeat got stuck in my throat. Father and son. Luciano actually winked at me.
“We’ll show her how good we eat. Won’t we, Matteo?” Luciano murmured softly to his son, and suddenly my heart twisted in agony. He would be a good father. Just not a good husband, because he hated the Romano family. I couldn’t even blame him. “Then you’ll grow big and strong. Sì?”
Matteo grinned and nodded eagerly.
I blinked hard. Shit, not a good time to get teary eyed. I was scared to even think what Luciano would do, if he knew Matteo was his son. He’ll find out soon either way.
I had to settle my nerves. Taking another sip of my wine, my eyes traveled to my best friend. The expression on her face was one of disbelief too.
“I guess you were wrong, Grace,” Ella announced. “Luciano is good for one thing. Feeding toddlers their veggies.”
I felt heat rushed to my cheeks. I glared at her. Why would she say something like that? The table chuckled, but it didn’t escape me that Luciano’s eyes were on me, although I tried to avoid his gaze.
“I could remind you a few more things I am good at,” he offered.
“No, thanks,” I answered quickly.
I’d have to talk to Ella about traitors. What was she trying to accomplish with that comment?
The rest of the dinner was quite uneventful. Luciano and his friends talked about their casino business, nightclubs, and stuck to neutral subjects. Ella and I mainly observed rather than commented. Not that we shared much of anything with these men.
Well, except for laundering money and trying to kill a few individuals. But those were forced circumstances for the two of us.
Before dessert, Luca got a text and left soon after. Nico and Alessio followed shortly after. I kept waiting for Cassio to clear out, but he remained behind. He made me nervous. He tried hard to appear non-threatening and that made him even more dangerous. I knew Ella felt the same. We felt like we were in the middle of a vipers’ nest, among all these mobsters.
How many of these men participated in the belles and mobsters’ arrangements?
I caught Ella shifting uncomfortably again, and my eyes trailed back to her. We understood each other well enough for me to know she would make an excuse. I nodded, understanding her completely.
“I have some stuff to take care of,” she mumbled. “Thanks for dinner.”
She didn’t even wait for an answer but rushed out of there, Massimo on her tail. She told me he has been questioning her about what we had done for the last three years. Digging for information. He was an idiot if he thought just because she slept with him, she’d divulge any information. Although it made me regret she had to keep her guard up. She deserved happiness.
My eyes lingered on Matteo, now happily eating gelato since he ate all his dinner. Would he remember me if my uncle got his hands on me now? Probably not. He was too young. My parents were killed when I was twelve, but at least I had those twelve years of memories. Twelve years of complete, sheer happiness.
“You know Grace,” Cassio’s voice interrupted my gloomy thoughts. “Not all of us are bad.”
“Huh?”
“We might run the underworld, but we aren’t all bad.”
I regarded him pensively. It was an odd statement to make. Was he trying to tell me he knew about the arrangement my family had and disagreed with it? Or he disagreed with human trafficking in general? Or something entirely different?
“Okay, so tell me who is bad and who isn’t?” I asked him.
His lips turned into a smirk.
“It wouldn’t really matter, would it?” He stood up from the table. Cassio King was an intimidating man. All Luciano’s friends were. Their vast resources could easily make Ella and I disappear and nobody would ask questions. Well, except my fucking uncle or Benito King. We were cash cows to them. “Because you and your friend already made up your mind,” he concluded.
He was right, of course. We didn’t trust any of them after Luciano’s betrayal. Massimo’s too. They treated us without any regard for our safety and well-being.
Luciano stopped his friend. “Grace, like I told you yesterday. Let me help you.”
Russian Roulette.
“You betrayed me!” Those words from that winter day evening rang in my ears.
Click.
“Then you should have left us in Italy,” I muttered without meeting their eyes. Instead, I focused on my son.
“Thank you for dinner, Mr. Vitale,” Cassio commented to Nonno, changing the focus of the conversation. “Luciano. Mrs. Vitale.”
He purposely called me that, I knew it. It was a reminder there was no escaping this life. Once you were born into it or married into it, you were in it for life. Till death do us part.
But what if I had no choice and was forced into it. Does it still count?
Our rushed wedding flashed in my mind.
The bedroom door rattles with the force of Luciano’s fists.
“Grace, you fucking open this door or I will tear it down.” His voice was cold and threatening. I knew it wasn’t an empty threat, but did my mind or body care. Nope, it didn’t. My body caved into his touch every time, and my mind rebelled and fought him at every angle.
Like some damn foreplay.
“No.”
“Grace.” One word. The meaning behind his calm voice more threatening than all the actual threats he could ever utter.
“I don’t want to marry you,” I muttered, frazzled. The ceremony had started, but I refused to leave the room. After the make-up artist and the dressmaker got me all ready, they gave me a few minutes before the ceremony.
Instead of working on calming my nerves, I locked the door and then barricaded it with the dresser. I was surprised nobody below me could hear the loud, screeching noise of the dresser legs against the hardwood floor. There was so much racket, I was sure someone would barge through the door at any moment.
“Open. The. Fucking. Door.”
“No.”
“You better step away from that door, Grace.” Whatever, dude! Who did he think he was? “I’m shooting the door.”
Wait. What?
“Make sure you are away from the door. I don’t want to shoot my bride on her wedding day.” His tone was mocking but serious. Who in the hell was this asshole?
“Wait.” I yelled out. “Wait.”
I put all my strength into pushing against the heavy, mahogany dresser. “Fuck, it was lighter on the way to the door,” I muttered to myself.
“Hurry the fuck up.” His tone was impatient, demanding.
“Buy lighter furniture next time, jerk.”
I barely pushed it a foot to the left of the door. I couldn’t get it all the way back. Maybe I exhausted all my strength while I pushed it over to the door.
“Grace-” I quickly unlocked the door.
I swung it open and stepped aside. “Jesus, dude. Learn some patience.”
Luciano Vitale in a tux was a breathtaking sight. I have seen plenty of men clean up in a tux but this man… he made the tux look good. If GQ magazine could snap his photo and plaster it on their pages, these tuxedos would sell out in the shortest millisecond of the century. My breath stuck in my lungs and the most stupid thought stuck in my mind.
Dying while staring at his beautiful face wouldn’t be such a terrible thing. What a dumb thought, but still it remained.
“Not dude. Your soon-to-be-husband.”
The anger on his face quickly extinguished as his eyes roamed my body. Despite the fact this wedding was thrown together at the last minute, I had to admit the dress was exquisite. And the make-up done to my face was minimal and only accented my unusual eyes and soft lips.
The wedding dress was made out of a swathe of white satin. It fit perfectly against my body, accenting every curve. The Swarovski crystals sewn into the bodice glimmered under the lights, accenting my breast and pale neckline. The long train flared behind me for two feet. I wasn’t thin and have never been overly athletic but the way this dress fit made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
“Your hair looks like flames against the satin of that dress.” The tone of his voice surprised me. Instead of mock, disdain, or anger… it almost sounded awed or reverent.
“It’s bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony.” I didn’t know what else to say. The way he looked at me made every single inch of me tremble with anticipation. I was tempted to ask him to tear the dress off me and ravish me right here and now.
“Let’s go get married.”
We were doomed from the moment we said ‘I do’. Yes, I’d held onto hope and I fell head over heels for him. But he certainly didn’t fall for me. Otherwise, he would have trusted me. He would have known that I would have never betrayed him. I couldn’t give someone my body, heart, and soul and then go betray them the next minute.
“Remember our talk, Gracy,” Nonno’s voice stopped the trip down the memory lane. “You are strong.”
After dinner was done, Matteo demanded Luciano give him a bath. While it was a nice break, I felt a bit slighted. I sat on the floor watching Luciano give our son a bath. He was making a mess of it, but I had to give it to him. He was dedicated to it. But then I knew that about my husband. When he decided on something, he put all his energy into it.
His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his strong forearms. Black ink snaked from his wrist up his forearms, and I knew it covered his entire arm. He must be working out a lot because his muscles were toned and strong. I imagined his shirt sliding off his back and tracing my fingers over each muscle on his back. His skin would be warm to my touch. It was always warm to my touch, like a burning heater.
“Grace,” Luciano’s voice pulled me from my lusted mind back to reality.
“Hmmm?” I met his eyes. That gaze used to make me so weak in my knees. I would have done anything for this man. Instead, his ruthlessness and distrust burned it all to ashes. Well, except this damn desire of mine. But I could blame that to my abstinence. All we had done last night apparently didn’t sate my lust for this man.
“So yes?” he asked and I wondered what he was talking about.
“Yes what?”
“You agree to accompany me?”
I frowned. “To what?”
What the hell was he talking about?
“I have an event tomorrow night. Do you agree to accompany me?”
“What event?”
“Just an appearance in the city at the fundraiser.”
I laughed. “You, at a fundraiser?” I retorted sarcastically. “What are you raising money for? Guns? Drugs?”
He didn’t like it, I saw I hit a sore subject. But that was good. I didn’t care about his hurt feelings. I had to remember who he was.
“No, it is a fundraiser for victims of trafficking.” Now that surprised me. “Cassio and I run it, but all the men you met are on the board. Including Raphael Santos.” My eyes flashed to him. He just confirmed my prior suspicion that my uncle lost his Florida connection. “Raphael took over for his father and has a different approach to human trafficking. His brother-in-law and half-sister will be there.”
How nice! A freaking mobster gathering! So they could make themselves feel better.
“No, I won’t go with you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to.” What kind of stupid question was that? “Besides, I have plans.”
“What plans?”
“None of your business,” I retorted dryly.
“Because you are scared to be alone with me? We had a good time yesterday.”
I sat up straight. “Maybe, but you tried to kill me three years ago,” I hissed under my tone. “Don’t think I’d ever forget you’d just as easily kill me as you’d take me to bed.”
We stared at each other, hate and bitterness mixed with flames of lust flowing through my veins.
“Mama,” Matteo’s voice pulled my gaze away from the husband I wished I had never run into again. I couldn’t say that I wished I never met him because unbeknownst to him, he gave me Matteo, my biggest treasure.
“Yes, baby?”
“Benne?” Good?
“Yes,” I told him. “Okay, let’s get out of the bath. We have just enough time to get dressed, brush teeth, and read a quick bedtime story.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell Luciano to go, to dismiss him. I didn’t need him around, making me wish for things that could never be.
“Okay, Matteo,” Luciano spoke before I had a chance to open my mouth. “I’ll help you out.”
“You don’t have to,” I objected, hoping he’d get a hint and leave. “I got it.”
But it was too late, Matteo was already under Luciano’s spell. “Both read books.”
I gritted my teeth. We did a quick job of drying him off, getting him dressed, brushing his teeth and then tucking him into bed. Just like my parents used to do it with me. It felt like a real family moment.
Matteo patted a spot next to him at each side of his bed, demanding we both lay next to him.
“Okay, which book?” I asked my son, my throat slightly strained from emotions. The truth was I wanted a real family. A husband that loved me, children running around our home, grandparents that cherished them. I wanted it all, though I was more likely to get to the moon than get any of it.
“Fiaba,” he demanded. Fairy tale.
“Well, buddy. Luciano can read you a fiaba. I’ll read you Green Eggs and Ham.”
I handed Luciano one of the fairy tales in Italian. “You first.”
He started reading without objections, but something in his eyes unsettled me. The burning in his gaze, the intensity. It made my insides melt, made my body react, and it was infuriating.
He read in his deep voice, Italian words rolling off his tongue effortlessly. There was something so damn gut-wrenching in this moment. The clear picture of what could have been and would never be. It made me furious at the destiny that wouldn’t let me have it. It made me furious with this man that took it all away. It made me furious that despite it all, my body still reacted to him.
And most of all, I hated myself for still wanting my own fairy tale.
“Grace,” Luciano’s voice was a soft whisper. I was so deep in my thoughts, his voice startled me. “He’s asleep.”
My gaze traveled to our son in between us and then shifted to my husband. I watched those hazel eyes. God, help me. I wanted him. Even after everything, I wanted him. I couldn’t let him destroy me. I barely pulled through last time. A child growing inside me was my saving grace. What would be if I let him pull me into his charms again?
I broke our eye contact and gently lifted off the bed. Luciano followed suit.
The moment I closed the door of Matteo’s room behind me, Luciano spoke, “The event tomorrow-”
“No,” I cut him off. “I am not going with you.”
Heartbeat of silence.
“Your uncle will be there.”
I whirled around. Chest to chest. Toe to toe.
“Why didn’t you say that earlier?” I watched my husband for any traces of deceit. I couldn’t gauge whether he spoke the truth or not. How in the hell did my uncle end up invited to an event that would fund the survivors of the very atrocities he and Benito King supported! Was it all a fake front? “And why would you have my uncle be part of your event? I thought you hated his guts.”
“I do.” I eyed him suspiciously, waiting for his elaboration. It never came. “The Romano family will pay for their sins, Grace.”
Luciano didn’t have scruples when going after what he wanted. Or destroying people in his path. I should know firsthand.
A pang in my chest. I ignored it.
“What is the dress code?” I haven’t decided whether I’d go. Though an idea formed in my mind. It might be easier to handle my family if I handled my grandmother alone and then took care of my uncle. Once and for all!
“I’ll send something to our room tomorrow,” he replied. His expression was unreadable, but I felt like he was a cat that just ate the mouse. And I was the mouse.
Let him believe that. I wouldn’t be anyone’s pawn anymore. Not for my husband. Not for my uncle. Not for my grandmother. This time, I would look out for my son, Ella, and myself. Because nobody else would.
I nodded and went to walk away from him when his hand wrapped around my wrist.
“Where are you going?”
“To bed, Luciano.”
He chuckled. That bastard actually chuckled. “I’m happy to hear that.”
His head lowered, and his mouth brushed lightly across the skin on the crook of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Even as I tried to lie to myself, saying I didn’t want to do this, my head tilted to accommodate him better. Obviously, I was a bad liar.
“Sleep in our room again,” he murmured, his hot breath burning my skin. I shouldn’t cave in. I was quickly falling for him again, just as easily as last time. “Don’t fight me on this anymore. Please.”
My eyes flared to his face.
Coming from a man that never begged. Never asked. Only demanded. So I caved again.
Damn this man!
For making me weak, stupid, and all kinds of wrong things. I should fight him, resist him, but the only feeling that lingered was the need for him.
My hands raised up, fingers pushed through his hair, and I gripped his soft stands. I wasn’t sure whether I was trying to punish him or hold on to sanity. Both of our sanities, because this lust and desire shouldn’t burn between us like infernos of hell.
He must have sensed my internal battle because he sealed his mouth over mine. More like, crashed against my lips, kissing me with reckless desperation. The same one I felt burning in the pit of my stomach.
He didn’t wait for the welcome, his tongue pushed against my lips and conquered. I molded into his body, desperate for his touch, clawing at his scalp. God, this man would be my demise.
No, not would be. He is my demise.
“I will never have enough of you, wife.” His voice was low, husky, desire laced in every word.
The way he watched me, the primal need in his hazel eyes consumed every single, shivering breath and fiber within me. His hands snaked down to my butt and grabbed my ass, lifting me up. Without breaking the kiss, my legs hooked around his waist, grinding against him.
This need coursing through my body would burn me to ashes. Maybe it would be a welcomed relief.
His mouth was searing my skin, everywhere his lips touched, he marked me. My mouth and hands were hungry for every inch of him. With each swipe of his tongue, he ignited my desire to a whole new level.
From the corner of my mind, I registered he was in our bedroom. Yes, our bedroom. Because there hasn’t been anyone else for me before him nor after him.
The door shut behind us with a loud slam and he lowered me onto the floor.
“Undress,” he commanded, his voice hoarse.
The passion in his eyes had me instantly obeying him. Because I wanted to shed my clothes off, feel his skin against mine. Our eyes locked. Looking at him was like looking at my own dark prince.
Passionate. Unforgiving. Ruthless.
I lifted my emerald shirt off. A long time ago, Luciano told me he loved me in anything colored green. He loved the contrast of my hair color against the green. Passion and ivy, he said. Did I subconsciously pick it for my husband?
My white, snug jeans followed. The entire time, he watched me with hunger in his eyes. His gaze trailed over my body, each lingering look caressing my exposed skin. My bra and panties were next and his ominous gaze turned dark with want and need while he soaked in the view of my naked body.
“Your turn,” I rasped, my breathing erratic. It didn’t escape me how easily I succumbed to this man. What the fuck ever, I was a weak woman.
He stripped out of his own clothes, fast and efficiently. My mouth watered at seeing him naked. Every. Damn. Time. I loved his body, cut from marble, ripped and chiseled to perfection.
My husband was a devastatingly beautiful man.
“On the bed.” His order had me quivering with anticipation.
Without hesitation, I climbed onto his California King bed. He hadn’t even touched me yet, and I felt the trickle of desire running down my inner thigh. Watching him through hooded lids, he moved onto the bed, like a predator stalking his prey.
I am his prey. Willing prey, it would seem. He had stalked me for the last three years.
He hovered over me, his knees parting my legs wider. As his eyes zeroed on my pussy, there was no hiding my body’s reaction to him. The desire glistening between my thighs was all the evidence he needed. I was eager to have him inside me.
“So fucking beautiful,” he croaked, his hand on his cock, stroking himself. There was no glee or mocking in his voice. Only reverence. Every fiber of me melted for him. I arched my back, telling him without words I needed him inside me. “I’m going to fuck you until the entire house, entire city, hears you scream my name.”
His words affected me, making me a slave for his touch and his claim. He rubbed himself against my entrance, toying with me, teasing me. My nipples were so tight that they ached, needing him to bite down on the sensitive skin to release this tension.
“Please, Luciano.” He was driving me insane with this burning need licking every inch of my skin. I thrust my hips up with desperation, uncaring that I seemed greedy and desperate for him. He didn’t seem to notice or care though, because the next instant with one hard thrust, he pushed all the way in, filling me to the hilt.
I sucked in a breath as sensations rippled through me. This was my utter submission, I was his. I had always been his. Luciano’s face morphed into one of utter possession.
“You are mine, wife,” he gritted as he pulled out and thrust back in. “Every breath you take,” he growled as he pushed back in, “…is mine. And I’m yours.”
His grip on my hips tightened, his fingers digging into my flesh. It was a delicious kind of pain. I leaned up and took his lips into a kiss. His strokes, initially measured and leisurely, started increasing in speed.
And then he started moving relentlessly, like a possessed man. My nails scraped down his back, encouraging him, begging him to fuck me harder. Deeper. Merciless and ruthless.
I dug my nails into his back, my eyelids closed, focused only on the pleasure he was giving me.
“More,” I pleaded. “Harder.”
His movements became harder, ruthless… he was rutting me with quick, deep thrusts, and stars swirled behind my eyelids.
“Open your eyes,” he grunted his demand.
I barely peeled my eyelids, meeting his lust crazed gaze. I felt like I was coming unglued, blinded by the pleasure he was offering me.
“I want you to see who’s fucking you.” He drove deeply into me.
“Yes, yes, yes. More,” I begged through broken moans, my head whipping from side to side.
“Mine to fuck.” Thrust. “Mine to break.” Thrust. “Mine to save.”
My body was climbing higher and higher, with each erratic, hard pound of his. Incoherent words left my lips, my mind completely lost to the extreme pleasure my husband was offering.
“You. Are. Fucking. Mine.”
The pleasure burst through my veins, and I felt myself spiraling off the edge, into a million pieces. The orgasm shook my inner core, my pussy clenching around his cock, milking him for everything. He continued to move, thrusting through my orgasm, thrusting… once, twice, till his body tensed as he groaned his own release.
We remained like that, both of us panting heavily as we slowly came down off our heights. His head rested against the crook of my neck. Unspoken words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. I have never gotten over Luciano Vitale… my husband. My demise.
My heart pounded against my chest, and I feared he’d somehow hear the whispers of my heart, confessing to my husband I never got over him. That I still loved him.
I was doomed! If his gun against my skull didn’t squash these feelings of love, I wasn’t sure what would.
It was just past midnight and my bare feet made no sound against the marble floor. I wore nothing but my panties and Luciano’s dress shirt that came down to my knees. There was something comforting about the familiar citrus woodsy smell of it, brushing against my skin.
I headed downstairs, to the pool area where I told Ella to meet me. The moment I stepped outside, the cool September air hit my flushed face. For a moment, I halted my step, closed my eyes, and listened to the stillness of the night while the air cooled my hot skin. If only I could freeze time and leave us in this cocoon. It might not be a realistic cocoon, but it was better than the reality.
I opened my eyes and noted Ella already seated by the pool, waiting for me, her small frame sitting on the edge of the pool with her feet dangling off of it.
“Hey,” I greeted her and sat down next to her, mirroring her position.
Throwing me a side glance, she gave me a small smile. “You look like you tumbled through bedsheets with a certain husband of yours.” Her shoulder nudged me lightly, her tone teasing.
I rolled my eyes. “Didn’t you tell me to take advantage of the fact that I was under the same roof as him?”
A soft chuckle escaped her. “I sure did, although I didn’t think you’d take my advice.”
It wasn’t my intention to take her advice, but it seemed I was a weak woman when it came to my husband.
We sat in silence, both of our eyes lingering on the surface of the pool. The darkness of the night that surrounded us reflected our fears.
“What did you find?” I finally asked.
“Your uncle and Benito King have now put a price on our heads, so other mobsters within their approved circles would help locate us.”
Boom-bum. Boom-bum. Boom-bum.
I knew it was coming; from the moment we set foot on the U.S. soil, it was only a matter of time. Seconds. Minutes. Days. Not months; I always knew we didn’t have months.
But damn it, hope was a bitch, a heartless bitch. And even now, it glowed in the dark… like a fucking lightning bug. Always a hopeful lightning bug. It would be squashed – either by the ruthless mobsters or by cruel reality.
“We’ll have to run. Without Matteo,” I whispered, and those words physically hurt my chest. Both of us threw a glance up at the marble façade of Luciano’s mansion. “Tomorrow, after my grandmother’s event. We kill her, then kill my uncle and we run.”
One heartbeat of deadly, earth shattering silence that tore at both of our souls.
“God, Grace. Do you think we could bring Mat-” she cut herself off.
“No, we can’t,” I muttered. It killed me to say that, but this was the safest place for Matteo. If we pulled through, and if it ever became safe for us, I’d come back for him. Even knowing I was doing the right thing by my son, it shattered me to walk away. I had to do it, but every ounce of my being as his mother objected to it.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.” I wasn’t but that didn’t matter. Surviving this; protecting Matteo was what mattered the most. “They won’t give up till they have us.”
I’d failed. I should have hunted down my uncle, grandmother, and Benito King and killed them all. Instead of our petty attempts at diminishing Romano wealth, we should have spent the last three years planning how to hunt them down and kill them. But we pretended they forgot about us, thinking we could live the rest of our lives in hiding. It was an illusion of safety we fooled ourselves into.
Now they were after us even more relentlessly.
“Our fan list keeps growing,” Ella muttered. She was scared, as she should be. I was terrified.
I swallowed hard. I knew what I had to do, but my heart twisted in agony with the thought of it. Tomorrow, I’d leave Matteo behind. Shit, that hurts!
It was the right thing to do, but it hurt so badly. I didn’t know how I’d survive it. He was my entire life.
Ella and I locked eyes and my heart bled. “Are you sure you want to come along, Ella?”
“Yes. My debt remains unpaid to your uncle and the King family. If I stay, Matteo is at risk.”
“Okay.” My voice was hoarse. I knew her heart was breaking too. She fell for Massimo. I fell for my husband again. This life was a damn cluster… what happened to a simple life with a white picket fence?
Oh yeah! It was interrupted by some ancient agreement by my ancestors to provide a belle for fucking mobsters. Monsters, more like it.
God, I didn’t know if I could survive life without my son in it. Matteo was forever part of my DNA. And we would leave it all behind. The only semblance of family we had.
“At the gala, we kill my grandmother,” I whispered low, ignoring the dull ache in my heart that would soon be the only thing left to feel. “Then we go to Luciano’s fundraiser and corner my uncle. Once they are dead, Matteo is safe from my family. And the two of us will run.” I took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled. “Luciano wants me to go with him to his fundraiser. I’ll tell him we’ll meet him there. It will be our only chance to get close to him.”
She swallowed hard, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I know it’s the best we can do but I wish we could kill Benito and Marco King too.”
I wished it too. “It would be a suicide,” I whispered. “We are way out of our element.”
And that was an understatement. Yes, we learned how to hack. Yes, we laundered dirty money. We learned to shoot a gun, but we were at least smart enough to realize when we were outmuscled.
“What are my favorite ladies doing up in the middle of the night?” Nonno’s voice startled us and both of us jumped out of fright. My hand on my chest tried to calm my racing heart.
Giving Ella a side glance, I nodded. We’d be ready to run tomorrow night, after we killed my grandmother and uncle. She lifted herself onto her feet, and I followed her suit. Nonno was too old to try and sit down at the edge of the pool.
“Goodnight, Nonno,” she muttered and leaned over to place a kiss onto his wrinkled cheek. It was her goodbye. She left both of us behind as she went into the house.
“We both have jet lag,” I answered his earlier question. “We couldn’t sleep.” My lies were bitter. “Matteo had a good time at the beach.”
It was my attempt to change the course of our discussion.
“He is a good boy,” he murmured, smiling. Talking about him always made him smile.
At least Nonno loved him. Even not knowing Matteo was Vitale, both Luciano and Nonno were good to him. Once they got their confirmation, I knew without a doubt Matteo would be loved and protected. Nonno loved him already.
“Nonno, can you promise me something?”
“What’s that, daughter?”
My throat was squeezing, making it hard to speak. “If something happens to me, keep Matteo safe.” His sharp inhale lingered in the air. “You and Luciano keep him safe… please.”
“What is it, Grace?” His hand took mine, and I looked at the old man. It was ironic that my life was connected to his even before my parents died and I never knew it. Until that night when Luciano dragged me out of his nightclub and right down the aisle, I never even knew of this man that was supposed to be my guardian.
My life would have been so different if he had been.
“Promise me, please,” I begged in a whisper.
“I promise.”
“Thank you.” I leaned over and kissed his other cheek. This man has always been good to me. No matter what happened, he would keep his word. I strode towards the house, leaving him behind. I headed back into my husband’s bed. It would be our last night together.
Before going to Luciano’s bedroom, I stopped by Matteo’s room. He was fast asleep, his feet dangling off the bed. Leaning over him, I placed a kiss onto his forehead. He had my heart from the first time I felt him move inside me, and once he was born, I was completely in love.
Luciano’s and my son. A product of a bitter revenge but the best outcome, regardless of the heartache that would follow when I walked away, leaving my heart behind.
Different scenarios played in my mind, trying to find any safe alternative that would make it safe to bring him along. I couldn’t see any. Luciano would keep him safe. My husband was a lot of things but one thing he excelled at was protecting his family. And Matteo was his family, his flesh and blood.
I felt that familiar tingling down my spine, and I knew Luciano was right behind me. My eyes lingered on my son’s face, trying to memorize each line. He was a part of me, and the thought of living on without him was tearing my soul to shreds. I was literally falling apart on the inside, and I marveled that on the outside I seemed put together.
I stood up, Luciano’s chest right behind me. I leaned back into my husband’s hard chest, and his arms wrapped around me. I allowed myself this weakness, for the last time. These memories might be the only thing that would make the lonely future bearable.
Maybe another life, another time we could have had a chance.
“He’s a sound sleeper.” Luciano’s hot breath burned my skin, sending shivers and regret through my body. “Like his mother.”
That was pretty much one of the very few things he got from me. In every other way, he was like his father. I relished in Luciano’s body heat, knowing that the rest of my life, however long it would be, would be spent cold and alone. Ella had fallen for Massimo. She would have her own wounds to lick.
I took my husband’s hand and pulled him out of Matteo’s room. I kept walking towards my husband’s bedroom, Luciano’s footsteps right behind me. Neither one of us said a word. Tonight would be for us… for me.
The bedroom door shut behind us with a soft click. I turned to face this man. He was so much taller than me, I lifted my face to study his features. Matteo would grow up to look like him. I had no doubt about that. And I’m going to miss it all; the thought sent sobs up my throat, but I choked them down.
I fought my attraction and my love for this man for so long. Even after he pulled that trigger against my temple, I still loved him. And I hated myself because I loved him. But now, it was different. He was different. I was definitely different.
Unlike the earlier passion, now I wanted to savor the moment. These last few hours before dawn. Tomorrow, I’d leave them all behind.
I lifted on my toes and reached for his lips. Those sinful lips that could send my body into flames. Those lips that could send my heart to fluttering heights and shatter it into pieces. I grazed my teeth across his lower lip, brushing my tongue right behind.
His tongue pushed into my mouth, conquering like he always had. He didn’t need to conquer what was already his, but I couldn’t tell him those words. Instead, I would show him. I pressed my soft body against his hard one. My hands wrapped around the nape of his head, my fingers tangling into his thick dark hair.
“Wife,” he murmured against my lips, both of our breathing labored. “What are you doing to me?”
He had on jeans and an unbuttoned white shirt. He must have pulled them on when he went searching for me. Or maybe he had some business to take care of. It didn’t matter.
Pushing his shirt off of his shoulders, I let it fall soundlessly onto the floor and his magnificent chest on full display. I pressed a kiss to his lips and closed my eyes, savoring the taste of him, committing it to memory. His heart jackhammered under my touch, matching my own pulse.
Nobody before him ever compared. And there would be nobody after him – ever. I trailed my lips over his tanned olive skin, down his neck. My hands reached for his belt, my fingers fumbling with it and his jean buttons, eager to get rid of his clothes. Soon his pants followed the pile of clothes discarded on the floor. I continued the trail down his chiseled abs.
He might have been forty, much older than me, but nobody could deny Luciano had a body of a god. I nudged him backwards. With each step he took, I took a step forward till we were against the bed.
“Sit down,” I told him, my voice barely above a whisper.
I lowered myself down on my knees, hitting the plush of the carpet. Nudging in between his spread knees, I vowed to myself tonight I’d bring him to his knees. My parting gift, I thought slightly bitter.
My husband’s grip moved to my neck, gently squeezing, reflecting his dominance and possession over me. I didn’t care. Truth of the matter was I belonged to him. I’d admit it to myself.
I licked my lips, my heart thundered hard against my chest, threatening to explode. Tonight would be our last night. I kept my eyes on his as I leaned in, taking the head of his cock between my lips, his taste on my tongue a familiarity I missed.
“Fuck,” he groaned. His hand fisted into my hair as I circled the head of his cock with my tongue. His legs spread wider to make more room for me and I broke our eye contact to lick him from base to tip, resulting in another tortured groan from him.
Luciano might own me but I owned him too. I circled the head of his cock again and again, flicking my tongue at the clear pre-cum that beaded on the tip, humming my approval. He tasted delicious.
My eyes raised to meet his hazel, possessive gaze again. I ran my tongue around the head before sucking all of him into my mouth, taking him deep down my throat.
His head fell back. “That’s it, my love.” Heat bloomed between my legs at his praise, the wetness slicking my thighs at seeing him at my mercy.
My breasts rubbed against his thighs, the thin shirt material in the way although sparks of pleasure fluttered through me. I sucked him hard, gliding in and out. The way he tasted was my aphrodisiac. The ache between my legs pulsed with the need for him, but I ignored it.
His hand grabbed onto a fistful of my hair and moved my head, controlling the rhythm. Up and down, deep into my mouth. Our eyes never wavered from each other, he watched me with a half-lidded gaze. He pushed himself deep into my throat, and I moaned with his cock inside my mouth.
With a groan, he pulled me away from him.
“Naked. Now.” His demand was a grunt, his voice hoarse. I stood up and slipped his shirt off and my panties followed. I stood naked in front of him. “Get on the bed,” he hissed, while his gaze burned hot on me.
A soft chuckle left me, despite my heart that hurt in my chest. “This seems like déjà vu.”
Even before I finished my statement, I followed his order, climbing over the bed, my butt at full display when his palm connected with my butt cheek. Smack!
“Hey,” I protested, but there was no heat to it. I glanced at him over my shoulder and wiggled my butt at him. Smack.
Damn it, I fucking liked it.
His palms ran up my legs, the roughness of his hands felt good against my soft skin. The anticipation made my stomach tighten, my body greedy for more of him. His thumbs lingered close to my ass, pressing into my inner thigh and I slightly parted them, pushing into his touch. I was wet for him, the trickle of my arousal trailing down. I felt his thumb smear it against my skin, igniting a spark in the pit of my stomach.
In a sudden movement, he flipped me onto my back, my head hitting the pillows, my hair spreading across it. The heat in his gaze was raw, unadulterated. My pulse raced in anticipation. He crawled over me, then yanked me closer by the back of my neck until my chest was against his.
“You are mine, Grace,” he growled into my ear. “You’ve been mine from the moment you took your first breath. And you’ll be mine when you take your last breath.”
And then he nipped my neck, marking me. My initial whimper turned into a moan as his mouth tracked down my body, licking, kissing, nibbling, and setting off fireworks all throughout my body.
He sucked a nipple into his mouth and my back arched off the bed. Sparks ignited through my veins, the flames igniting and spreading like wildfire.
“Luciano,” I breathed, his name a raspy whisper on my lips.
Then he lowered himself down my body, positioning himself between my spread thighs and buried his face between my legs, then shoved his tongue deep inside me. My back arched off the sheets and I cried out, while my fingers fisted the sheets. My body shuddered under the heat of his tongue and a rush of pleasure flooded me.
He made a low hum, like he was enjoying the best cognac or dessert. It vibrated through every single inch of me. Both his hands pushed under my ass and he lifted my hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my ass as he fucked me with his tongue. It was as if he needed me on his tongue, something reverent in the way he was devouring me.
“Oh. My. God.” I moaned, digging my hands into his thick, dark hair, his name slipping from my lips as his tongue swirled over my clit before sucking. “Luciano,” I breathed. “More. Oh, God. Please.”
His deep noises as he devoured me drove me crazy with lust. I peeled my eyes open and met his smoldering gaze, burning me with his own heat. He watched me as he lapped me steadily, fingering me faster and harder, until I was wanton putty under his touch.
In and out. In and out. Loud moans echoed through the silence of the night, as I rocked my hips against his face shamelessly. His one hand reached up and pinched my swollen clit, then immediately brushed his tongue over it.
“Fuck.” Pleasure rippled through me, my core shaking as my husband continued lapping at me hungrily, making soft noises of approval.
He continued sucking on my clit, then pushed his finger inside me as his other hand reached up my body and pinched one of my nipples. It was too much; it wasn’t enough. His stubble scratched my inner thighs, his teeth grazing over my clit and a scream clawed its way out of my throat as an orgasm rippled through me.
I writhed against his mouth as raw pleasure shook my body and small sobs of relief rang in our bedroom. The pulsing, throbbing need for him was still here. He rose to his knees, his chin wet from my juices.
His mouth took mine in a hard, possessive kiss, our tongues tangling, as I tasted myself on his lips.
“I need you inside me,” I pleaded against his lips, opening my legs wider.
His eyes flared with heat. His body covered mine, making my skin burn for him. He kissed my neck as he braced his hands on either side of my head. My hands slid down his back, his muscles hard under my fingertips. There were so many words on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to tell him I loved him; I craved him.
“I need you,” I begged, my body pushing up, as he positioned himself at my entrance. He stroked his cock up and down my slit, nudging forward. My fingers trailed down to his abs then snaked around his back, as my lips sought out his mouth.
In one forceful thrust, he filled me to the hilt, burying himself deep inside me. His mouth swallowed my scream, and then he started to fuck me hard, driving deep, his hips working like pistons. His grunts of pleasure matched mine, my body opened to him, letting him lay claim. I loved feeling him inside me, like fitting a last piece of the puzzle.
His weight on me comforting, he fucked hard, dominating me, breaking me with each thrust. I surrendered my body, heart, and soul to him. I buried my face in his neck, inhaling his unique, masculine scent, committing it to memory for all the lonely nights that would come.
I was so close, his shuddering grunts told me he was close too.
“I love you, Grace,” he groaned hoarsely, and it sent me tumbling over the edge, my body convulsing around him and at the same time my heart leapt into the clouds recognizing his words. The pleasure consumed every fiber of me as I bucked underneath him, as I sucked hard on the pulse pounding in the side of his neck.
He didn’t falter, but kept thrusting hard through my clenching pussy as the orgasm shook me to my core. My head was spinning, my heart was breaking, and my body was crashing.
“My wife. My life,” he rasped and he shuddered, his final thrust deep before he stilled and spilled inside me. His breathing ragged, his chest rose and fell with each breath, and I listened to his breathing as everything around us stilled.
My hands wrapped around him, holding on to him for the last time. Tears prickling behind my closed eyelids, and I didn’t dare to move, or risk breaking down into a full blown sobbing.
Three years ago, I told my husband I loved him. He sent me away.
Today he gave me those same words. And I would run away.
