“Luca…” The fullness in me felt so good.
“You’re so tight and wet,” he groaned, thrusting gently but steadily into me from behind. We were both on our side, with his left hand under my giant eight-month belly. His fingers rubbed circles over my clit. I exploded in pulses. Luca withdrew and immediately moved over me. Ropes of cum splattered down my butt. Some of it hit my face.
I shifted on my back. “I’m already at thirty-eight weeks. It’s okay if the baby comes now.”
He grinned at me while still milking his cock. “I know. But I like marking you.” Luca closed his eyes and shuddered. When he’d squeezed every drop, he gave a satisfying exhale and got off the bed. “I’ll run you a bath.”
I stared at my husband’s fine ass, not regretting using my pregnancy horniness to make excuses for him to fuck me. Two weeks after my escapade to Red Oak, I had quit going to the attic and moved back into our bedroom. I wasn’t sure if seeing Jessica in those pictures precipitated my decision, but I couldn’t demand Luca’s fidelity if I was neglecting my husband, could I? We also had an impending trip to New York to attend Sera and Matteo’s wedding and Luca informed me that we were staying a week. As it stood then, I didn’t think I could survive being around my husband with this rift between us.
So I decided to ask him if he had a mistress without sounding needy, just practical. I still remembered his surprise when he found me waiting for him, sitting up against the headboard.
Luca paused at the doorway probably disbelieving that I had returned to our marriage bed. He had a guarded contemplative look about him as he carefully shut the door. He walked into the closet, not saying anything. After shedding his jacket, he emerged. While he was unbuttoning his shirt, he asked, “Are you moving back in here?”
“It’s getting harder to go to the end of the hall and take the steps to the attic.”
He removed his shirt and put it in the dry-cleaning bag. “I was getting concerned. I guess it’s good exercise, but there are better ways to get that.” He tipped his chin to the window. “We have a beautiful garden and fresh air.”
I crossed my arms and cocked a knee on the bed, letting my sleep shirt slide down my thigh. He probably got an eyeful of my pink panties. “I do that too.”
Alertness stiffened his body. “There’s something else?”
“I’m horny, Luca.”
He prowled toward the bed. “I had wondered if there was any truth regarding pregnant women and their need for sex.” The corner of his mouth tipped up. “I was beginning to think it was an outright lie.”
“You were waiting for me to ask you?”
“You were the one who abandoned our marriage bed and moved to the attic.”
“I didn’t like sleeping in it alone,” I said. “I didn’t like waking up in it alone.” I shrugged, attempting to remain indifferent. “But I don’t see why I can’t demand sex from my husband.”
“Demand?” He circled the bed to my side. “You can demand sex from me any time.”
“That’s kind of hard if you’re in Chicago.”
“If you’re going to use sex to make me feel guilty about my duty to family, think again. Do you want me to fuck you or not?”
I steeled my spine. “That depends. Are you fucking someone else?”
“Are you accusing me of cheating on you?” he asked.
“It’s not considered cheating in our culture, is it?” I shot back. “It’s the right of made men.”
“And you’re okay with it?”
“I don’t know, Luca. Is it a part of your expectations?” I asked. “Because it’s only right that I have mine.”
“If you let another man touch you, tesoro, I’m going to hunt him down, make you watch as I cut him to pieces.” The threatening gleam left no doubt he would do it too.
“I saw pictures of you and Jessica.” My voice wavered.
“Are you spying on me?”
“Spying? No. It’s hardly spying when it’s all over the tabloids.” I was exaggerating. It was not a headline but buried in unverified stories.
“I can’t avoid her. We go to the same events.”
“She was with you in Vegas.”
He sighed heavily and sank to the bed and then held my hand. “When did you see this?”
“The day you left when we had our chat at breakfast about your expectations.”
He looked away, cursing, and then back at me again. “And you waited two weeks to confront me?”
“I was deciding.”
“You stressed about it for two weeks before you tell me this.” His voice rose.
“You’re stressing me right now.”
He looked away again and muttered an expletive. Standing up, swiping his upper lip with the back of his hand, he glared at me. “Be thankful you’re pregnant because I would very much like to wring your neck.”
“Stop using my pregnancy as an excuse to avoid discussions.”
“Avoid discussions…” He threw up his hands. “What is there to discuss? I’m not hiding a mistress and I will not apologize if she’s at the same event as I am. This is ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous if the papers make fun of your wife.”
“I don’t read the stupid trash that you do. Taking them on is not worth it. But I will look into it, and if they make false accusations, then I will fix it.”
Was I sentencing a lying reporter to his death? “I don’t want you distracted with the work you are doing with Papà.”
I’d heard from Carmine that the Russians were playing hardball. “I just want to know that…that…”
“That I’m not bringing home any STDs?” Luca asked.
My cheeks heated. His eyes softened, and he sat beside me again. “I will never endanger my wife with something like that. And I vow to you I’m not sleeping with Jessica or anyone else.”
“It’s just that I can’t believe that you would go that long without sex.”
“I’m not ruled by my dick, and there is always the use of my hand.” The warmth in his eyes morphed into unmasked heat. “I love watching you come. I love watching you take all of me. The way you throw back your head, open your mouth and moan…even when I have my cock buried deep inside you, I want to take it out and put it in your mouth.” He trailed his fingers down my body, lingering over the curve of my belly, before wedging them between my thighs, seeking my wetness. “Now, I very much want to please my horny wife.”
After that talk, our sexual relationship heated up. Big-time. Apparently, Luca had researched different positions that would work for pregnant women. Doggy style, standing, even in the bathtub in reverse cowgirl. He was still remote when we were around other people. The bedroom was our safe place, or so I told myself. It probably was for him too, after he made sure I abided by his expectations that he would never love me.
The sound of the rushing water turning off ended my rumination into the past few months.
Luca exited the bathroom in all his naked glory, his cock relaxed yet still formidable. When I lifted my gaze to his, there was a cocky tilt to his smile.
“Don’t tell me you’re not satisfied,” he said in mock offense. “Do you need me to lick you?”
I shifted my thighs together. “Maybe?”
He gave a shake of his head. “The water will get cold. I didn’t make it very hot. How about after? If you still require the services of my mouth?”
He bent and carried me to the bathroom. This had been our routine after I returned to our marriage bed. He enjoyed carrying me around after sex. If not to set me on the counter and clean his semen between my thighs, he’d lower me into the bath. He didn’t always join me, but tonight, he got in behind me. And I leaned against him. My enormous belly bobbed in the water. He put my hair up and twisted it in a knot. He asked me to teach him how to do it when we were in Paris. Luca didn’t want my hair getting wet, knowing I was going to fall asleep after the bath and he was right. My eyes were drooping.
He kissed my shoulder, sending goose bumps across my skin.
“You’re going to be late,” I said.
“They’ll wait,” Luca replied.
“But you said it was the most important meeting with the Russians.”
“I’ve got time. The meeting isn’t until midnight.”
It was only six p.m. It had been a rainy day. Luca and I had spent all afternoon inside our room because he was going to be in Chicago for the weekend. I was getting more of him than I had been after he defined his expectations. I wasn’t sure if I was happy with the status quo. Maybe if he hadn’t shown me his caring and consuming side in Paris. Maybe if he hadn’t made me fall in love with that man. I wasn’t sure if it was an illusion, but the realities of his responsibilities were something I couldn’t ignore or pretend to be ignorant about.
This could be our new normal.
Hot sex in the bedroom, cold husband out of it.
He wasn’t exactly cold…he showed affection, and he showered me with gifts, even thoughtful ones. Tonight he gave me a beautiful locket. He told me I could put our baby’s picture in it.
“What did Rachel say at your last checkup?”
“Baby is fine. I told her Mom is not, and is ready for him to come out.”
My checkups were rarely in town anymore. Luca had an ultrasound machine installed in the nursery. It was overkill, but expense wasn’t a concern for him when it came to my needs, as long as he didn’t come along with it.
Ugh, I wished I could stop being bitter about the situation.
“Is that why you keep seducing me?”
I laughed lightly. Luca was, in a way, correct. More often than not, I initiated. I couldn’t help it. My husband was one sexy beast, and if I were honest with myself, I loved his broody remoteness when we were around other people. Plus, I was ruled by hormones. It was the perfect excuse to enjoy my husband.
If only he hadn’t told me he would never love me.
I trailed my fingers up his hairy leg. He growled in my ear, “Don’t get me started. I have to go soon.”
“Didn’t you promise to lick me?”
“You’re a temptress.” He nipped my ear. “And I’m always starved for you.” His hands cupped my breasts. “I love these. They’re so heavy. You’re very beautiful when you’re pregnant. You have no idea,” he murmured. “I should have thought about having a photographer take your picture. I’ve seen those in art galleries.”
“I would love that.”
“Maybe the next baby,” he said.
“Luca, I still have to deliver this one.”
His hands lowered to my belly again, splaying his fingers wide. “This is just so fucking sexy. I made this.”
“You contributed a single sperm.”
He emitted a deep chuckle. “Come on. I have work to do.”
He helped me out of the tub and toweled me dry, then he lifted me up again.
“I don’t know how you could lug me around like this.”
“You weigh nothing.”
“I’m a hundred fifty pounds.”
“And I can squat three hundred.”
“You should be careful about your back. You’re not getting any younger.”
He laid me gently on the bed, but his eyes promised retribution. “Are you calling me an old man, tesoro?”
I smiled languidly. I didn’t even think I could stay awake. I was falling asleep when Luca got between my legs, put his mouth on me, and wrung out an orgasm that wasn’t as intense as the earlier ones, but was enough to relax me.
I fell asleep before he left the room.
A stab in my belly woke me. At first, I wasn’t sure if it was a dream. I glanced at the clock. It was one in the morning. Everything was dark and silent. I needed to pee. I rolled to my side, and with difficulty, got up. I was transferring to the recliner after I did my business. Padding across the floor, I almost made it to the bathroom when water splashed down my legs.
It was as though my vagina dropped a water balloon.
Heart pounding, I hit the lights, and indeed my legs were wet. Stay calm. Stay calm. We have a procedure. What is the procedure?
Stay calm!
I splashed water on my face and brushed my teeth. God knew when I could do that again. Halfway to the bed, a jabbing sensation made me hunch over. That was not a cramp or gas. Gritting my teeth, the first thing I did was call Dr. Kingsley. After a few questions, she told me to go to the hospital.
Then I called Luca. It went directly to voicemail.
They were still in a blasted meeting? I texted him and Dario. Then I called Tony.
“Yeah.”
“I’m in labor.”
There was a pause and then…“I’ll tell Rocco to meet you in the room.”
Minutes later, the knock sounded on the door, and I heard Martha’s voice.
Tony must have woken everyone.
Martha came into the room. Nessa followed, and she smiled at me. She had somewhat forgiven me for getting Tony in trouble and hadn’t been giving me the cold shoulder anymore. I guess it also helped that I learned ASL, so she didn’t always have to resort to notepads or the phone app for communication with me. Together with Martha, they’d been helpful in getting the nursery set up.
“Have you timed your contractions?” Martha asked while Rocco went to get my packed bag. I was walking back and forth to add extra toiletries into another bag until Nessa signed for me to sit. We’d all gone through this fire drill before at Martha’s insistence, so when the time came, we weren’t running around like headless chickens. I sat on the couch, my legs spread in an unladylike manner.
“I just had that one, but Doctor Kingsley told me to head to the hospital. I called Luca and Dario and left them messages.” I winced, getting more uncomfortable by the second.
“Tony has pulled the Escalade out front,” Rocco said. “The others are ready to escort.”
They helped me up. “Luca…please try to contact him.” I didn’t know who I was addressing.
It was Rocco who answered, “Tony is trying to get through to one of the capos.” We made our way down the hallway. “The boss had strict instructions to keep this on a tight phone tree.”
Confused, I asked, “Is there a threat against me?”
Rocco shook his head. “Not particularly, but there are high-stakes discussions going on right now.”
The Russians and their money and the big loss at the auction a few months ago. The money I had sitting in several numbered accounts. Doriana told me not to move it yet, saying that she’d been under several cyberattacks. I hadn’t communicated with her since I stopped going into the attic, and Luca had spent more time at home.
Many times I wanted to come clean to my husband, but we were too deep in opposing directions.
Both Martha and Nessa held on to my arms as we navigated the staircase. Another contraction hit me. Not as strong to make me double over, but just enough for me to make an agonized sound.
“Oooooh…” I moaned as I lumbered into the SUV. “I can’t wait for this boy to come out.”
Rocco got in beside Tony.
Martha and Nessa piled in from opposite sides of me.
“So Yvonne is in charge at the mansion,” I joked. I couldn’t wait for her to leave for Chicago and be with her boyfriend and leave the house. She was toxic, and I avoided her as much as possible. I was just glad Luca and I cleared up the Jessica problem.
“Heaven help us,” Martha said while Nessa made the sign of the cross.
Luca
The air was charged in the Kometa gentleman’s club. Vasily Orlov owned the club. He was the Russian mobster who’d been my nemesis since I kicked his ass in Igra Bossov—Game of Bossess—seven years ago. It was an underground fight held every five years. He’d been angling for a rematch and had been heckling me to fight in the last one. It was a big moneymaker for everyone involved. However, the losers tend to be sore losers, because all organized crime bosses had egos the size of Antarctica. They should abolish the competition because it had done nothing but cause friction between organizations.
But the Russians loved it.
Beside Orlov was Peter Koshkin. Koshkin and I were allies, and I considered him a good friend outside of business, but inside of it, friendships had no meaning. I helped his bid to overthrow the previous leader of the Moscow Cadre, smuggling the needed weapons to his soldiers.
Now Koshkin was pakhan, the head of the Moscow Cadre which was the center of Russian organized crime.
On my right were Dario and Ange, and on my left were Carmine and two other capos.
With Orlov, my patience was in short supply. We both had Chicago officials in our pockets, and all we had done in the previous months was block each other’s licenses and real estate deals. Tit for tat. It was fucking petty playing chicken. He just wouldn’t let this thing with Santino go, but I suspected his stubbornness had everything to do with his previous loss to me in the games.
I didn’t want Koshkin involved. For him to leave his Moscow lair meant that this had gotten his attention.
And fuck had we gotten his attention.
After Dario received word that the DEA was about to bust one of our ships when it got to port, we dumped Koshkin’s drug shipment that was supposed to have gotten to Orlov.
Sure enough, the agents swarmed the pier when the ship arrived.
“We all know why we’re here,” Koshkin said. “My half billion in product is in the Atlantic Ocean.”
The cost was really fifty million. Koshkin mentioned its street price for effect.
“Now where am I going to get the money to pay off the Colombians?”
“I already talked to Rodriguez,” I said. “He’s aware of the situation.”
“That’s not the only problem,” Orlov retorted. “I have no product to sell.”
“Koshkin isn’t your only source,” I said.
“It’s the highest quality,” my Russian nemesis insisted. “Credibility is important.”
“My money is missing.” Koshkin split a look between Orlov and me. “There’s still a big hole in my bank account.” He leaned forward. “A hole that needs to be filled to support the organization. I’ll accept twenty-five million from each of you, but this war between the two of you must reach a resolution now.”
“Koshkin,” I said. “This shipment of drugs is merely goodwill on the Morettis’ side.” I didn’t want to make an enemy of Koshkin, but this was exactly why I didn’t like doing shit like this. “There’s a signed agreement with my father that where a raid is a possibility, the interests of the Chicago crime family come first.” I tipped my head at Dario. “We have the agreement here if—”
“I am aware of the agreement, but your father had the arrangement with my predecessor.”
“Who I helped you oust.”
Koshkin’s eyes narrowed at me. “Are you calling in a favor?”
“When I helped you gain control of the Moscow Cadre, I didn’t do it because it was a favor.” My voice had sharpened. “I did it because I thought it was right.”
Dario cleared his throat, warning me of the escalating tension.
“So, you’re saying I should let you off the hook for losing my product,” Koshkin said.
“We are going around and around on this,” I said. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll pay the twenty-five million, but you will never use my ship again. There’s a rat in our organizations and I don’t think our businesses and risks align. Chicago doesn’t make money from your drugs. We do it for goodwill, but it’s causing more problems and risks than I’m willing to take.”
“We don’t need him,” Orlov said.
“On the contrary,” I countered. “You seem to think you need my planes to ferry the depraved business you have going on.”
Koshkin stood and slapped his hand on the table. “Enough. This thing between the two of you needs to be settled now. Moretti, may I request Chicago leave the room while I confer with Orlov?”
I shrugged. “No problem.” I could use a cigarette break.
As our group left the room, we went to another part of the club where it was quieter.
“I told your father’s consigliere before it’s bad business to move drugs for the Russians,” Dario said, scrolling through his phone. He froze in the way that called my attention.
“What is it?” My phone was still turned off, and I loathed to use it most times anyway. I preferred people to tell me things face-to-face.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
I’d been in the act of lighting up. I took out the cigarette and repeated, “What is it?”
He came to my side and said in my ear, “Natalya is in labor.”
I reared back, blood draining from my face, my fingers mangling the cigarette. “Now?”
Carmine joined us. “You heard? Tony texted me. Natalya—”
“We know.” I scrubbed my face. Emilio hammered into me the possibility of this very scenario. That made men put the entire organization first, even when it was his wife giving birth. But every instinct was clawing at me to storm out of here and go straight to my wife.
“You can’t show weakness now,” Carmine said. “If Koshkin finds out you ditched him because Natalya is giving birth, he’ll not see you as a boss, but someone who is controlled by his wife.”
“I hate this bullshit,” Dario growled. “A man’s wife should come first. That’s why women are treated like crap in the family.”
Ange’s face was inscrutable through all this, until he said, “You want to change the code, Dario?”
My brother was expecting me to uphold the code. Damn everyone to hell.
One of Orlov’s men appeared at the door to our room. “Koshkin wants you back in there.”
I nodded. There was no telling how long negotiations would take. I was sure Koshkin would want to go for a drink afterward.
Words scaled up my throat with difficulty. “Go to her,” I told Dario. “I’ll finish up here.”
“Are you—”
“As my consigliere,” I cut him off. “Isn’t that what you’re going to suggest? If I let you handle this, then we’ll not only be at war with Orlov but also Koshkin. That’s not what we need right now.”
Dario nodded. “As your consigliere, I agree with your decision.”
“Natalya will understand,” Carmine said. “She was born for this.”
But as my footsteps made their way back to the clubroom, they wanted to head in the opposite direction. To my wife, who was about to give birth to my son. I hadn’t prayed to God in a long time and had neglected to visit a church in the past few months. But I prayed now for the safe delivery of my son, and that my wife would be okay.
Natalya
The door to the delivery room opened, and my heart expanded with hope. Only to deflate quicker than a popped balloon.
I expected to see Luca, but it was Dario.
He hovered at the door and talked to Martha.
“Where’s Luca?” My voice cracked with exhaustion and emotion. Both of them turned toward me. The usually stoic Dario wore a face full of apology that made my eyes brim with tears. The time between contractions was closer. Dr. Kingsley said I was almost there. But my whole body and mind fought against my son’s imminent birth. I clung to hope that Luca would hold my hand through this.
To witness his son being born.
He wasn’t coming.
Because he didn’t care.
“Something came up,” Dario said. “Please believe that it’s really important.”
Tears continued to roll down my cheeks, and I looked away. As much as everyone around me was supportive, I must have nagged them to death to get hold of Luca.
I should have known nothing had changed.
He set his expectations, didn’t he?
The end all of all contractions stabbed my belly. It was pressure more than pain but I cried out. Martha rushed to my side.
“That was less than five minutes. Is it painful? The epidural is not working?”
“It’s working,” I whispered because the pain was in my heart, and I wondered if the pain of childbirth would have been better. The latter was fleeting, but the former would leave deep scars forever. I just knew it.
“I’ll get the doctor.” Dario hurried from the room.
Not long after, Dr. Kingsley appeared.
“I hear we’re ready,” she said cheerfully.
But my idiotic heart was still in denial. My whole body was fighting the birth of my son.
“Luca’s not here yet,” I cried. Martha helped me to a sitting position and scooted me to the edge of the bed.
“It’s his loss, honey.” The doctor affixed my feet into the stirrups and looked between my legs. “Yup, your son is coming.”
“No. Not yet.” I glanced at Martha, still clinging to hope that in all this frenzy, I didn’t understand. “What did Dario say? Luca is just delayed, right?…Ahhh.” The blunt pressure was the strongest yet.
“Listen. To. Me.” Dr. Kingsley gripped my knees to command my attention. “Forget Luca. He’ll not be on time, and your son isn’t on his schedule. He needs to be born now.”
I trembled as I fought for control and bit on my lower lip to keep from crying for my husband again. I found myself nodding.
“Remember those breathing exercises?”
This time I exhaled a raspy, “Yes.”
“Okay, Natalya,” Dr. Kingsley said. I took in a lungful of oxygen and started the fast pants I’d learned during my birthing exercises with Martha. I also did it with Nessa. Never with Luca.
“Now, push.”
