I couldn’t wait to strip off the grit and grime of the night. The sneakers and sweatpants lay in a heap on the tiled floor. I wondered if there was an incinerator in this mansion’s basement.
Standing in the shower, I wished it could scald off the images of the night from my retinas, of Santino holding a gun to my head, of the body in the tunnel with half a bloody face. Was there even a face left underneath all that blood? I shivered even as hot water sluiced all over my skin. As much as I’d been embroiled in family business, it was the first time I’d been almost executed.
I’d always wondered what I would do if I knew I was going to die. Now I knew. I would close my eyes. Not because I was a coward, but because I wanted to see the face of the person I loved the most, one last time.
Matteo.
I wanted to see the brilliant blue of his eyes reassuring me that it was going to be okay.
I thought I saw my life flash before me.
It was the headlights of the Jaguar.
Matteo wrecked his beloved car to save me.
The thought made my knees weak.
A need to see him had me speeding through my shower. Steam followed me out of the enclosure and kept me in a cocoon of warmth as I towel-dried my hair. Natalya was put in my room and I could only grab a few essentials before I entered Matteo’s bedroom.
Still, I stole a T-shirt from his drawer and put that on. I had no idea what I was doing except I didn’t want to be away from Matteo for another night.
I sprinted out of the bathroom and skidded to a halt. Matteo was sitting at the edge of the bed.
He was bent forward, elbows to his knees, glowering at me.
I gulped. “Mom and I put Natalya in my room.”
He straightened and rose from the bed, stalking toward me. “Your room?” His eyes flared. “Sera, are you here because you’re thankful I saved you?”
I raised my hand and cupped his face. He turned toward it, pressing a kiss against it briefly before rubbing his bristled jaw against my palm. He reminded me of a wounded beast seeking comfort in its mate. All the love I had for Matteo surged inside me as I said, “I closed my eyes when Santino pointed the gun at me.”
A strangled noise worked up his throat. “Baby…”
“It wasn’t because I was scared…well, I was…terrified in fact…but the last thing I wanted to see on this earth was you.” The last few words trampled on each other with the rush to get out. Tears rolled down my cheeks and my voice cracked. “I love you…”
I never finished my declaration. Matteo captured my lips with a groan vibrating deep in his chest. We tumbled on top of the bed with an urgency that rivaled our first time in Maine. He rose above me, arms braced on either side of my head, his hand shaking as it cleared the wet hair from my face. “I can’t be gentle.”
His voice vibrated with an undertone of desperation.
“I don’t want gentle. I want to feel alive.”
He didn’t say any more. He shoved my knees apart, leaned slightly to free his erection, then he was inside me.
I gasped at the fullness. I could feel the tip of his cock touch my womb. He hiked one of my legs higher and he started pounding inside me. Pressure built below my pelvis.
“You okay?” he gritted, his eyes dark with torment even as he drove deeper inside me.
I could only nod and moan.
When his fingers circled my clit, I exploded, crying out as pleasure pulsed strong and endless. But it was more than the physical. So much more. It involved all our pent-up angst from the past few weeks, dreams that crashed and burned, then soared with renewed hope only to be plagued by the near tragedy of almost losing each other.
And as Matteo’s eyes locked with mine, I felt another wave building and whispered, “With me.”
He nodded and gave me a quick, devouring kiss before he took us both over the edge into bliss.
A few minutes later, we lay spent and exhausted, breathing hard. A sheen of sweat covered our bodies and my hair was a wet tangle across his chest. I drew mindless circles over his skin.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said finally. “I still don’t get Luca.”
I sighed. Obviously, he was still seething with the drastic steps my uncle had taken. Luca was hard to explain. He was more of a notion than someone whose existence could be summarized in a few sentences. “Unless you’ve grown up with a Luca in your life, you’ll never understand him, but he loves me.”
“With what he did—he had no right to think he was better for you than I was.”
“I think he finally accepted it,” I said softly with a hint of sadness and a sense of loss, but I was more overcome by a sense of freedom. “Luca has to think about the family as a whole. He equates love with loyalty.” I had paid my dues and paid it nearly with my life. I had broken free of my misguided responsibility toward the Chicago crime family. Being around the De Luccis, I could see how they loved and supported each other unconditionally. They were allowed to make mistakes and learn from them in their own time. I wanted that very much to be my future. A future with Matteo.
“I’ll always put you first,” he said.
“I know.”
“I can’t change the way you are, your need to help women in need.” Matteo exhaled his resignation. “But please think about me too and the children we’re going to have.”
Jolted by the unexpected statement because it eerily reflected my own sentiments, I whispered, “Children?”
“Our future.”
“I can live with that.”
“You better.”
Matteo
“I don’t know what to say.”
Mrs. Mancini stared at me from across the conference table of one of the smaller conference rooms at De Lucci Transnational. Nico, Jonas, and Sera were with us to discuss the Mancini Winery’s lease on a second life, probably its third.
“Don’t thank me.” I nodded to Sera. “Thank my wife.” Technically, she was my ex-wife. It had been three weeks since we got rid of Santino. Two weeks to get Vincenzo back at the helm of the Galluzo and an acting Rossi boss installed that assured a truce with the De Lucci crime family. It had been a week since our divorce papers were finalized but I will always call Sera my wife.
The older woman smiled at Sera with appreciation. “Thank you for coming out to the winery and inspecting our operations. My sons are looking forward to this new direction.”
“There’s still a lot of work to be done,” Sera said. “But once they come home, then the real work begins.”
It turned out, the choice of the Mancini boys to abandon their legacy was because of their mother’s refusal to change anything. One of her sons was a chef at a renowned Manhattan restaurant, while the other was an investment banker I knew. It was a team effort by our family. Sera and Mom talked to the chef son, while Nico and I took on the other.
The tasting room would be moved to the Italian villa that was their residence to take advantage of its architecture and charm, while another section would become the restaurant. Plans for the old tasting room hadn’t been solidified yet, but Sera was saying it was the ideal place for an outdoor wedding venue instead of depending on a tent.
Mrs. Mancini smiled wider. “Know tradition, embrace change.” She stood, and we all did the same. “Thank you for making me understand this. This is great news to take back to my employees given that Thanksgiving is in a few days.”
She embraced Sera, and for the first time ever, hugged me too. “You are a good man, Matteo De Lucci,” she said. “I’m sorry for everything I said to you that meant otherwise.”
“No. I only became better because I had a good woman at my side.”
After more good-byes and hugs were exchanged, she left. We all looked at each other and shook our heads.
“That was weird,” Jonas muttered. “She didn’t demand her café au lait.”
“Maybe she’s learning humility,” I said.
Nico was scrolling through his phone and looked up. “Well, we’ve got more of those coming.”
I sighed.
A few hours later, we were back at the mansion. This was turning out to be a big day for Sera. Gustavo was presenting her with the shares. The old man had been worse for wear after he suffered under the hands of Santino’s soldiers and wasn’t able to travel immediately. But after he was cleared by the doctor, he couldn’t wait to fly out of Italy to formally turn over the fifteen percent stake in Conte Enterprise to Sera.
“I don’t want him to feel obligated,” she had said.
I didn’t want that either, but I pointed out to her that after risking her own life to save him, she deserved it.
The turnover was quick and painless. After documents were signed, we all retreated to the sitting room for drinks.
As expected, Daniel and Ivy came with Gustavo. I hadn’t seen my friend since the day I rescued Sera. Personally, I wished he’d stay away, but maybe it was time to find closure. He needed to know his place in Sera’s life. Also present were Dad, Nico, Uncle Paulie, and Dom. Luca attended by way of video conference. He was in Italy to iron out details of a Galluzo-Chicago alliance. My eyes sought out Sera. She was with Ivy and talking animatedly to Gustavo. There was no mistaking the fondness in the old man’s eyes. Gustavo had been restored to a position of status within the Galluzo organization, thanks to Luca’s intervention in stopping Santino. Between Sera and me, we would have a controlling stake in the olive oil company. Luca having sway with the Galluzo leadership meant we had another way to keep an eye on the organization.
I walked over to the bar to pour myself another scotch. I felt a presence at my side and I didn’t need to glance over to know who it was. “Scotch, Daniel?”
“Damn, I wish I knew how you did that,” he said. “Have eyes in the back. And…sure.”
He held out his tumbler and I poured him two fingers before I did the same to mine.
“You wanted to talk to me?” I asked.
“This cold war needs to end,” he said. “We’re business partners and Ivy is best friends with Sera.”
“I have no problem with it as long as you know Sera is mine.”
“Look,” Daniel said. “I gave this some thought. I care about Sera a lot, and what I feel for her…”
My eyes narrowed.
“Dammit, De Lucci, would you stop being a jealous asshole?” he hissed. “I care about Sera. Get over it. That said, she’s yours, okay? Just don’t hurt her again.”
I took a sip of my scotch. More than a few pairs of eyes had taken interest in me and Daniel including wary ones from Sera and Ivy.
“I don’t intend to,” I said curtly.
“Good.” He let out a breath and held out his hand. “So, friends?”
“Friends.” We shook on it, then paused to give each other a look before we smiled wryly and dragged the other in for a hug and slap on the back.
I imagined the collective breaths of relief around the room. Did they think Daniel and I would devolve into a fighting match.
“So, are you asking Sera to marry you again?” Daniel asked with a sly grin.
“Count on it.”
