Table of Contents
Owned by the Italian Mafia Don
CONTENT WARNING
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Epilogue
Owned by the Italian Mafia Don
By Rosalie Rose
All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2023 Rosalie Rose
This story is a work of fiction and any portrayal of any person living or
dead is purely coincidental and not intended.
CLICK HERE
to subscribe to my newsletter & get EXCLUSIVE
updates on all offers, secret previews, and new
releases!
CONTENT WARNING
This story is intended for mature readers and contains themes that may be
sensitive to some, including violence and mentions of blood and killing.
Chapter One
Rosie
Life gets harder as I get older and I’m getting tired of it. My family’s dream
is exhausting and, a long time ago it used to be mine too; but after running
myself ragged, after being too exhausted to do anything other than work
and sleep, their dream is no longer mine. My parents own a general store
called O’Connor’s. It’s named after our family and, when they were young,
the shop did really well; but now, people buy what they need online, and the
business my parents poured blood, sweat, and tears into, is failing. I don’t
see us making it another year.
Medical bills are behind. The rent is two months past due and the only
reason our landlord is not evicting us is because he has known my parents
for thirty years. If it weren’t for that, we’d be sleeping in this store.
Something has to change. Even right now, the electricity in my parents’
apartment is off, and I need to scrounge another fifty dollars to get it turned
on.
My eyes begin to burn with frustrated tears, and I stop moving boxes to
try and catch my breath. Pressing my palms against my eyes I take a deep
breath, but my emotions are too strong. I’m too damn tired. I’m so sick of
caring, but I have to, and I feel like I’m the only one who gives a shit about
this business, too.
My parents don’t come here. My brother is always off doing who knows
what and I’m left here, trying my damn best to make ends meet. I’m not
sure how much longer I can do this before I break, before I quit, but what
kind of person would that make me if I quit on my family? I can’t do that to
them even though they have done it to me. They left me with this store and
now I’m stuck unless I want my family to be homeless.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. It won’t be like this forever. You’re fine. This is
temporary.” It’s something I always end up saying to myself, hoping one
day I’ll believe it. It isn’t that easy though. I’ve been saying it for years and
the situation only ever gets worse.
A box falls to the ground, flour bags spilling all over the floor, and it’s
the last straw. I scream, kicking the box and the flour bags. White dust flies
everywhere. I yell with every ounce of air I have in my lungs until I run out
of breath. I sob, sliding down the front desk until I hit the floor. Flour
somehow got on my hands, but I don’t care. I hide my face in my palms
while I cry.
I no longer have the energy to do this. I no longer have the will to be the
only one keeping my family afloat.
When do my hopes matter? When do my dreams and wants matter? No
one has ever cared. It’s always been about me taking care of them. I’ve
dedicated everything. I’ve drained my savings account to keep food on the
table and electricity running in the home.
I have nothing to my name now because they had nothing to theirs. All
those jobs worked when I was younger, every dime pinched and saved in
hopes to buy my own house one day, gone.
I know I’m bitter. I know that. I know I’m selfish and I’m being a bad
daughter and sister, but when do I stop being all that for them, and where
does that leave my family? I can’t stop, right? I can’t stop being what they
need me to be. It isn’t fair to them.
But it isn’t fair to me either.
The back of my head hits the counter and the sharp, but quick pain, has
me opening my eyes. I wipe the tears away with the back of my hand, flour
clumping together on my skin from added moisture. Something has to give.
Or break.
And it’s me. I’m the one breaking.
I look around at the mess I made and new tears begin to form. Why
should I bother cleaning it up? It’s not like any customers will come into the
store.
“Come on, Rosie. Get your shit together. You won’t let this beat you.” I
give myself a nice pep talk, the same one I give more often than not,
because lately it seems like everything is hard, everything in this world
takes every ounce of fucking energy I have. I know I’m not the only one.
It’s like this for a lot of people right now.
I take another look around the shop; flour is still everywhere. I don’t
know what I expected. Perhaps, it would magically disappear? I groan,
hang my head, and rub my temples as a headache pulses. The slight
outburst of anger wasn’t worth it because the flour isn’t going to clean itself
up.
“You’re done with your pity party,” I tell myself, pushing to my feet.
“You’re an idiot, Rosie.” I rub the back of my neck and open the supplies
closet, gathering the broom and dustpan.
I go to walk away, but my belt loop gets caught on the door handle,
which for some reason sends my temper to explosive mode again. I drop the
broom and slip the belt loop out from the handle, then slam the closet door.
I bang on it so hard, my hands begin to hurt.
It’s going to be one of those days where if I drop the keys on the ground,
I’m going to think it’s the biggest inconvenience and grumble profanities
under my breath while I pick them up.
I hate days like that, where everything is a big deal when really it isn’t.
Bending over, I pick up the broom and start sweeping up the problem I
caused. I wipe my forehead when I begin to sweat. The air conditioning
stopped working a few days ago but we can’t afford to fix it, so it’s been
miserable.
I throw my wild curly hair in a messy bun to at least get it off my sweaty
neck and stand in front of the box fan for a few minutes. It’s blowing dry,
hot air but it’s better than nothing, right?
The doorbell chimes and I hold my breath, hoping it’s a customer but it’s
just my younger brother, Caplan.
“I fucked up. Sis, oh god, I fucked up.” He slams the door, locks it, and
laces his fingers behind his neck.
I drop the broom when I see the bruises on his face. “Oh my god, Caplan.
What happened?” I hurry to the front door and flip the sign to close. “Who
did this to you?” I grip his chin, turning his head left and right. He has a
black eye and a split lip. One hand is holding his side as if he has been
kicked. “Who did this to you?” I repeat, my tone getting darker.
I might bitch about my family, and I might be sick and tired of our
situation, which I’m allowed to be because I’m human, but no one fucks
with my family. No one.
“No, Sis, you don’t get it. I fucked up.” He hits his chest and his eyes
become glassy with tears. “We can’t be here. We can’t be seen here.” He
rushes to the widows and closes the blinds, then peeks out from them. “I
don’t know why I did it. No, I do know why. I’m sorry, okay? Rosie, I’m
sorry. I’m so sorry. You have to believe me. I just wanted to help.”
I grab his biceps and give him a little shake, the sweat on his skin making
my fingers slip. “Caplan, I need you to take a breath and tell me what
happened. Breathe. What did you do?”
His blue eyes meet mine and sweat drips from his hairline, down his
forehead, and he wipes it away. “I only wanted to help. I only wanted to
make things better for us. I know how bad things are. I know we are
struggling. You work your ass off here and for what? It isn’t fucking right,
Rosie. You deserve more. You kill yourself for this store and Mom and Dad
don’t seem to care, but I do. I care. I wanted to take care of you, and I can’t
do that when I’m making minimum wage.”
I bring him in for a hug and he grips me tight as if he isn’t ever going to
see me again. “Caplan, it’s okay.” It feels good to know he sees how hard I
work for them, but I don’t ever want him to get in trouble. “Listen to me, I
don’t care how bad things get, you aren’t to put yourself in harm’s way for
me, for this store, or for our parents.”
“What about you? You have put your life on hold for too long for us. You
need to get out there and see the world.”
“Stop changing the subject and tell me what you did, Caplan.”
He runs his hands through his hair and shakes his head. “Fuck, Rosie. It’s
bad. It’s real bad.”
“I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what happened.”
“Don’t hate me,” he whispers, taking a seat on one of the benches we
have had for sale for ages.
I sit next to him and take his hand. “Caplan, I could never hate you. I’m
worried about you. You are bleeding, you look like you got your ass handed
to you, and you won’t tell me what happened.”
“I stole something,” he admits, his leg shaking with anxiety.
I let go of his hand and rub my palms down my jeans. “That’s okay. We
will give it back. We will explain you meant well, but we will give
whatever you took back.”
“I can’t give it back. If I do, I’m dead.”
I stand, crossing my arms as I stare at him. “What is it?”
He digs into his jean pocket that’s stretched out with something round
and pulls out a huge black gem. I’m not sure what kind, but it’s pretty. I’ve
never seen anything like it before, but it has to be worth a ton.
“Oh my god, Caplan. You robbed a jewelry store?” I pluck the stone
from his hand and notice it has a good weight to it. “You will take this back
right now. We will not make our way in life because you stole this. It isn’t
right, Caplan.”
“Haven’t we paid enough? Haven’t we suffered enough? They don’t need
this. They have plenty of money.”
“Who?”
“Bianchi.”
The stone almost slips from my fingers when I hear the name. I lean
against a shelf, my anxiety heightening. “You didn’t. Please, tell me,
please,” my voice breaks with fear. “Please, tell me you didn’t steal from
one of the most powerful men in the city. Please tell me you didn’t steal
from the fucking mafia!” I scream at him, shoving him in the chest. “Tell
me you didn’t paint a target on our backs because you weren’t thinking.” I
poke his forehead with my finger, giving it enough pressure that I know it's
uncomfortable. “Tell me.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. One of the guys that works for
Bianchi confronted me. He wanted me to push some drugs and I said no. He
roughed me up a little and I fought him back. This fell from his pocket. I
don’t know what it is or why he had it, but it has to be expensive. Men like
that don’t carry cheap shit, Rosie.”
“It’s a stone of some sort,” I sigh. “It’s probably worth more than our
lives combined which is why you’re going to return it. You’ll say sorry and
you’ll even offer to run whatever drugs they wanted you to.”
“If I do that, I’m as good as dead. Rosie, I don’t want to run drugs.”
“What other choice do you have?” I yell at him, shoving the gem in his
face. “This is life or death. You return it, you’re dead. You keep it, you’re
dead. You only have the option to compromise at this point. If you want to
live, it’s the only option I can think of.”
“No, no, no, listen, Rosie.” He grabs the gem and holds it to the light,
staring at me with this newfound hope that I haven’t seen since he was a
boy, staring up at the moon thinking it was really made of cheese.
That was a horrible truth to break to him.
“We can sell it before they find out. I can deny it. I can say it wasn’t me.
Imagine the life we can have, Rosie. We can finally have money. We can
catch up on bills. Mom and Dad will be taken care of.”
I groan, lifting my hands in frustration at him. “Deny it? Deny the fact
that you have been beaten up and you were the last person seen with the
guy who had this gem? Yeah, that will go over really well. Especially if we
suddenly are living a life of luxury, Caplan. It isn’t smart.” My brother
means well. He always acts before he thinks and I’m always the one left
cleaning up the mess. “It’s fine. I’ll fix this, Caplan. It will be okay.”
“No, it won’t be okay!” He shouts at me, and I rear back, shocked.
He never yells at me.
“We are one day away from being kicked out of the apartment. Mom and
Dad have given up. The store is drowning in debt—”
“—We aren’t drowning— “
He cuts me off, giving me a look full of disdain. “You can cut the shit,
Rose. I know how hard you work. I know how much you kill yourself day
in and day out. I know. I hate seeing it. I hate seeing Mom and Dad sitting
on their asses and expecting you to do all the work. I see it, Rosie. I see
how tired you are, and I didn’t know what to do. I just…I took action.”
I embrace him in a tight hug, holding him close. One hand is on the back
of his head and the other is in the middle of his back. He’s taller than me, so
it’s awkward, but it’s how I’ve always hugged him since he was little.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, giving him a good squeeze before letting him go.
“I know you meant well and while I appreciate your effort, this wasn’t the
way to go about it.” I take the gem from his hand again and shove it into my
pocket. “I’m going to find the guy that did that to your face.” I grip his chin
and turn him into the light, scowling when I notice that his cheek is
swelling. “No one touches you. How dare they. You’re nineteen years old.
Anyone who puts their hand on a teenager is sick. They need to pick on
someone their own size.”
He smirks, wincing when the cut on his lip opens again from the
movement. “Like you?”
I point a finger at him. “I might be small, but my attitude is well above
six—maybe even seven-feet tall.”
“Definitely,” he agrees. “I’m sorry, Rosie. I knew I fucked up when I
took it. I had a split thought of thinking ‘this could change everything’ and I
ran with it. Literally. Ran.” He frowns. “We probably won’t be safe here. I
bet they know it was me.”
“You aren’t safe here. I’m fine,” I reassure him. “They might not know
anything. We shouldn’t overthink, but like I said, I’ll take care of it. Okay?”
He nods, then he squints his eyes to the floor when he notices the flour.
“What did the flour do to you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I wave his question away when he laughs,
but it’s the guy that hurt my brother who is about to have the same issue
these bags of flour had.
We might be broke, but damn it, we are good people, and no one takes
advantage of that.
Chapter Two
Ari
An annoyed sigh escapes me while I listen to Frankie make another excuse
about why he can’t pay me this month. This is where I’m different than
Carmine. I have the tendency to give a little leeway to the people I like and
I really like Frankie. He’s good people. He means well. He’s only trying to
keep his Italian restaurant alive.
I don’t blame him. It’s a great place to eat. One of my favorites. His
Nona is sweet and makes everything by hand, which is another reason why
I’ve gone easy on him. Nona holds a special place in my heart. Maybe it’s
because I never knew my grandparents and she reminds me of the
grandmother I wish I would have had.
But even my kindness has limits.
I do not like being taken advantage of.
The restaurant is closed on Sundays so they can prepare for the week, so
I came in to settle the business we have with one another.
I’m at the table, swirling the pasta around my fork. They have the best
pasta in the city. I hate to know this will be the last time I eat here.
“Mr. Milazzo—” Frankie begins, voice trembling out of fear.
I hold up my finger to silence him, enjoying the last of my lunch. When
I’m done, I push the plate aside and wipe my mouth, then take a swig of the
wine that pairs perfectly with my meal.
I lean back in the booth, the soft cushion giving against my shoulders. I
fold my hands on the table and gesture for Gianni.
He places a long, silver knife in front of me, and I give him a nod.
“Frankie,” I begin with a sigh. “I like you.” I give him an honest, big
smile. “I do. You’re a good guy. You work hard. I like a hard worker.”
“Th-Thank you, Mr. Milazzo.” His eyes never leave the knife I have in
front of me. Sweat beads on his forehead, the sheen glistening under the
lights. “I like you too. You’ve been good to my family.”
I take the knife in my hand and tap the tip into the table, leaving small
dots. “I have been, which is why I’m here, because Frankie—” I lean
forward, “—you haven’t been good to me.” My voice deepens with
aggravation. “You’ve taken advantage of me.”
“No, no. Mr. Milazzo. I can explain.”
Before he can say another word, I snag the knife and stab his hand,
locking him against the table.
He shouts in agony, trying to lift his hand free, but Gianni presses the
handle down so Frankie can’t move.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he cries, blood dripping down the silver blade and
onto the table. “I’ll do whatever you want. Things haven’t been good here.
I’ve been trying to get you your money, Mr. Milazzo. I promise.”
“I’ve given you two months, Frankie. Two months.” I slap my hand on
the table so hard that the silverware shakes against the plates. I wipe my
hand over my mouth, trying to control my anger. “You’re taking advantage
of my kindness. See, that’s what happens when you give someone leeway. I
shouldn’t have, because now you think you can do it whenever you want.
And you can’t.” I fold my arms on the table and lean forward. “You wanted
a loan. I gave you the loan because I love your Nona. She’s sweet and
innocent in this so she’ll be safe. You owe me ten thousand dollars,
Frankie.”
“I can…I can’t give you all of it. I can give you half of it? And then I can
just have another two weeks for the rest. I can get it to you then.”
I grab the knife keeping his hand against the table and stand, leaning my
weight against the handle and he screams. I twist the blade and his screams
become broken gasps of air and unstable shouts. Music to my ears.
“Here is the thing. I’m new to this position, right? You’re used to my big
brother. You thought maybe you’d be able to skirt by, but I’m not that new.
I’ve been doing this a long time by my brother’s side.” I twist the knife
again before jerking it from his hand, freeing him from the table.
He shivers from the pain and holds his hand to his chest. Spit drips from
his bottom lip and down his chin as he tries to catch his breath. His nostrils
flex in as he breaths in as deep as he can, then expand as he releases the air.
“That’s it. Breathe through the pain.” I place the knife against his throat
and his entire body trembles so much, the edge of the knife nicks his neck.
Not enough to cut his jugular, but enough for him to realize he needs to stop
moving. “Tell my men where the money is.”
“Kitchen. Look in the fridge that doesn’t work. Five thousand is there.”
“And the other five thousand? I’m not waiting until next week. I’ve
waited long enough.” I turn to look at Gianni and tilt my chin to the kitchen
for him to go get the cash.
Without another word, he walks away, vanishing between the swinging
doors.
“I don’t have anything else.”
I lean down and whisper in his ear. “I think you’re lying.”
“I swear, I’m not. I’m not, Mr. Milazzo. I swear to you. I promise!” he
cries.
I lift his injured hand, dripping in blood, and notice the large gold ring on
his finger with a big emerald sitting in the middle. “This seems to be worth
something. A few thousand at least.” I shove his hand against the table and
slam the knife down on the finger, slicing it clean.
Frankie screams at the top of his lungs and my ears ring. I take the
napkin from my plate and pick up his finger, tugging the ring from it.
“I found five thousand like he said and another three hidden in the
freezer,” Gianni announces, tossing the bag on the ground by his feet.
I yank Frankie’s head back by his hair, his hand against his chest, and his
shirt ruined with blood. “You lied to me. I fucking hate liars. The ten
thousand you owe me is paid in full but you’ve made an enemy of me now.
If you need me, I will not help you. Do you understand?”
He nods, his face pale and clammy. “I understand. I’m sorry, Mr.
Milazzo. I was trying to save the money for—”
“I don’t give a fuck what it was for. You owed me. You made a deal with
me.” I shout in his face, then grip his chin. “Give your Nona my love,
okay?” I tap his cheek and tuck the ring in my pocket. Releasing him, I
walk away, my men right behind me.
I get in the back of the car while Gianni gets into the driver’s seat.
“You’re going to do very well, Mr. Milazzo.”
I roll my eyes. “Gianni. How many times do I need to tell you? Call me
Ari. Please. We’re friends, you know. Unless you forgot.”
“I didn’t, but you’re my boss too, and you just chopped off someone’s
finger. I’ll stay formal for now if you don’t mind,” he teases.
Two other men who work for me climb into the SUV behind us and they
follow as Gianni drives us back home to the estate.
The drive is quick since the Italian restaurant is so close to where we
live. I barely have time to get comfortable before Gianni is pressing in the
code for the front gate to open.
“I want you to get this ring estimated and cashed in,” I say as we come to
a stop, tossing him the emerald piece of jewelry from the backseat.
He catches it without looking.
“I’ll have it done by the end of the day.”
I step out of the car and make my way up the steps just as my cellphone
rings.
It’s Carmine.
I put it on speaker as I head into my office. “Hello?”
“Are you okay? Matias told me about Frankie.”
“Everything is fine. Matias has a big mouth.” I roll my eyes while my
oldest brother, Carmine, checks in for the fifth time this morning. I had to
ignore him the four other times since I was preoccupied with Frankie.
I’ll have to somehow stop my twin from divulging everything I do to our
eldest sibling.
“You can’t be too sure, Ari. You have to stay alert. You have to—maybe I
need to come back. I need to prepare you more. I don’t know if you’re
ready.”
Matias, my twin comes into the office and takes a seat, and snorts when
he hears Carmine.
Carmine grumbles. “Am I on speaker?”
“Absolutely not, big brother. I know how much you hate that.” I lift my
finger to my lips, telling Matias to be quiet.
He zips his lips but still smiles when Carmine goes on about the family
business.
We’re mafia. I don’t know why he tiptoes around the damn word so
much. He is intent on calling it an organization, but I’m going to call it what
it is.
Carmine has stepped down so he can focus on his family. His children
are over ten years old, and his wife wanted to see the world, so he decided it
was time to take a step down and hand me the crown.
I don’t know why he didn’t choose Matias. My twin is calmer and more
collected, and his sense of humor isn’t as loud; he definitely isn’t as vulgar
because he doesn’t curse as much as I do. I wasn’t the best choice, but when
Carmine asked me, I couldn’t say no. He believed in me, and I couldn’t let
him down.
“Bianchi isn’t someone to fuck around with. He’s close to the territory.
You’ll need to up—”
“—Security,” I say on an exhale, swiveling around in the big leather
chair. “I know, Carmine. You forget I’ve watched you do this since I was a
boy. I know all the ins and outs. You don’t have to worry, and I won’t be
afraid to ask for help if I need it.” I won’t ever ask him for help, but I know
it will make him feel better. “Carmine, everything is okay. I have Gianni
and Matias. Everything is quiet right now.”
Carmine groans and so does Matias.
“I knew I was on speaker!” he yells.
I narrow my eyes at my twin. “You aren’t on speaker. That was…it
doesn’t matter what it was. What’s the big deal?”
“You said quiet. Nothing ever remains quiet. You’ve jinxed yourself.”
“You sound too much like your wife,” I mumble, but a smile takes over
my face in the next second. I like her. She’s a great influence on Carmine
and they have amazing kids. I love my nieces and nephews.
It’s empty in the house without them. It reminds me of the time when
Carmine didn’t have his wife and the house was silent with business.
“My wife always seems to be right,” he says, and I can hear the
happiness drip from his voice.
Gianni bursts through the office doors without knocking, his mouth
tense, and his eyes drop to the phone, then to me.
“Carmine, I have to go. I’ll catch up with you later.” I hang up before he
can say anything. “What’s going on, Gianni? The ring?”
He shakes his head. “We have someone very unexpected at the gate and
he wants to meet with you.”
I lean back, checking the calendar to see that I have to leave in a half
hour to go to the city and request payment. A few businesses pay us a
certain tax to make sure we protect them, or they owe us money for a loan
they borrowed from us to have the business in the first place.
“Send them away. Tell them to make an appointment.”
“Yeah,” Gianni drawls with uncertainty. “You aren’t going to want to
reschedule this. It’s Bianchi.”
I stop moving, curious as to why the rival mafia boss is on my property.
“Is he alone?”
“No, sir.”
“Gianni, don’t call me sir. It’s weird to me.”
He smirks, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “Yes, sir.”
I groan, then stand, buttoning my three-piece Armani suit. “I guess it’s
time to put my game face on, right?” This would be considered my first
business meeting since Carmine handed over the throne to me. I’m not
nervous, but it’s hard to set my playful personality aside. It’s why I think
Matias would have been a better choice, but Carmine thinks my ability to
adapt, be joyful, and be outgoing is what will make me a strong leader.
Matias doesn’t seem bothered by that fact at all. He’s happy to be my
right-hand man.
“Check them for weapons. No more than him and two of his guards will
be allowed in the house. You can reassure him that is all I will have too.”
It’s odd giving the command to Gianni. He’s older, more experienced, but
still, he doesn’t question me at all.
He gives me a curt nod and Matias stays where he is. “Do you want me
to leave?” he asks, looking up at me with the same face that stares back at
me in the mirror every morning and every night.
“No. You are staying here. Damn it.” I head to the window, tucking my
hands in my pockets, and watch the fancy Rolls Royce pull into the circle
driveway.
“What is it?”
I sigh, narrowing my eyes when the driver opens the car door for
Bianchi, and he steps out. So this is the big bad Bianchi. The one I need to
keep my guard up with. He kind of reminds me of Carmine.
“I shouldn’t have said the quiet word,” I admit, pointing my finger at
Matias. “I’ll never admit defeat again.”
“We will see when we play Battleship again.”
“You cheat,” I accuse, feeling like I’m thirteen all over again.
In many ways, my brother and I do have childlike souls. Battleship is a
game we play every other night, like clockwork, no matter what. When
Carmine would take the abuse from our father, Matias and I would hide in
the closet, and with a flashlight as our only source of light, we played
Battleship. People eat food when they are stressed but my brother and I
revert to that board game.
“I don’t cheat,” he argues.
“Gianni will be the scorekeeper next time.”
Matias rolls his eyes, but the fun banter ends when the knock on the door
sounds.
I stare at my reflection in the window, watching the smile fade and the
stoic expression take its place. Matias stands and I use that to stand in front
of my desk. I won’t use it as protection. If this guy wants to kill me, he
wouldn’t be doing it like this.
“Mr. Milazzo?” Gianni’s voice comes through the speaker. “Mr. Bianchi
is here to see you.”
I gesture for Matias to stand by my side, and he does, showing the gun on
his hip. “You may enter,” I state, standing so the first person Bianchi sees is
me.
His bodyguards enter first and then they part, Bianchi strolling between
them. He’s older than me, the white around his temples telling me so. He
has dark eyes, trimmed thick brows, and high cheekbones that give him a
skeletal appearance.
“They left their weapons in the car with the other two guards he
brought,” Gianni informs, closing the door behind him and standing there
with his arms in front of him, hands clasped, readying himself to tackle
anyone who makes a move.
“Thank you, Gianni.”
“And the rest of the compound is secured and at the ready,” he follows
up.
“You will not have to worry about me or my men attacking,” Bianchi
states. “I am here on business, nothing more. What I need to speak with you
about is urgent, Mr. Milazzo.” He holds out his hand to shake and the last
thing I want is pleasantries, but enemies have to play nice in order to get
what they want sometimes.
I shake his hand, then gesture with my other. “Please, sit. I’m intrigued,
to say the least.” I walk around my desk and sit in the chair, leaning back. I
cross my legs. He and I stare at one another, but no one will dare get the
upper hand in my fucking house. “How can I help you, Bianchi? I need to
leave soon.”
“I’ll try and be quick. I apologize for the last-minute meeting, but this
was urgent, and it couldn’t wait.” He crosses his right ankle over his left
knee, and I don’t know what it is, but something is telling me he is a very
dishonest man.
This way of life, the position we are in, we don’t always go by the laws. I
break them every day, but I don’t lie and I don’t fucking steal, while this
guy in front of me, I bet, does a lot worse.
“Do you want something to drink?” I offer before we get into whatever
brought him here.
“No, thank you. I won’t be here long enough to have it,” he states,
reaching behind him and one of his guards hands him a file. Bianchi grabs
it, sliding it across my desk and I flip it open.
I have no fucking idea what I’m looking at it. It’s a blurry black-andwhite picture of someone running down the street.
I try not to lose my temper, but I’m not the type to ever hide my emotions
well. I close the file and fold my hands together. “And what would you like
for me to do with this information? I can’t identify the person in this photo
if that is what you’re looking for. It’s a shit picture,” I state frankly, leaning
back in my chair, and he nods in agreement.
“I know, but this person took something very valuable from me, Milazzo.
A rare gem. My brother had it in his pocket and then I found him
unconscious lying on the ground, the gem gone. If you help me find this
person or the gem, or even better, both, I’ll pay you.”
“Pay me? I don’t need money, Bianchi. I have plenty of that.”
“An alliance. We don’t interfere in each other’s affairs and when we need
help or backup, we can depend on one another.”
“Hmm,” I hum, thinking about his offer.
“I know it is unlikely for us to work together, but I wouldn’t have come
to you if this wasn’t urgent. This stone is worth a lot of money, Milazzo. It’s
the kind of stone that is found once in a lifetime.”
“If it is so precious, why did your brother have it in his pocket? Seems
irresponsible.”
“It was, but he was transporting it to a safer place, or he was supposed to,
but he stopped at Amor.”
My brows raise and I do my best not to be amused. “The strip club?”
“The Gentlemen’s Club. We own it. He made the mistake of talking
about business there. Typically, it is safe. It’s usually full of people who run
in the same groups as we do.”
“Mmm, seems smart,” I chastise him, not agreeing with his tactics at all.
“And you don’t have decent security cameras?”
“Why would I want any evidence of what happens at my club?”
“Maybe when expensive stones go missing and all you have is a photo
from a damn gas station camera.”
“Yes,” he sighs, but there’s an unhinged anger lingering behind the word.
“There is always the exception. I was hoping you’d keep an ear to the
ground for me. If you hear of anything, you’ll let me know? It might be
wise for us to come to an agreement rather than go to war, don’t you
think?”
I stand before he does, signaling that I want him to leave. He is quick to
understand my movement and gets up from the chair.
“I’ll keep an ear to the ground, Bianchi. If I hear anything, I’ll be sure to
let you know.”
He grins, relief in his eyes, but something else. I’ve seen it in desperate
men. Desperate men are always dangerous, so while we are on good terms
right now, I know not to trust Bianchi.
“Thank you, Mr. Milazzo. I hope to hear from you regarding the stone.”
“I’ll do my best, but I can’t make any promises.”
“I appreciate it, nevertheless. If you need anything—” he doesn’t finish
his sentence as he leaves, his guards following behind him.
Gianni follows them to the front door, and I walk to my window again,
watching them leave. I expect them to make a scene, to go back on their
word, but he and his men leave quietly.
“He isn’t to be trusted,” Matias says from behind me. “What mafia boss
would meet his rival? It doesn’t make sense.”
“A desperate one. He’s in trouble and that stone is the answer to
everything. We’ll keep our ears to the ground, but I want to know more.
Find out what you can about Bianchi. I want anything. Look under every
damn rock and in every closet. I want all the skeletons. And make sure the
car is ready to leave. I have to go collect,” I tell Matias as if he’s an
employee and not my brother, but he gives me a quick nod and leaves.
I’m not sure when I became this person, but it is coming to me easily.
Carmine did always tell me to follow my instincts and they are screaming
that Bianchi is in a bad position, which means he will take anyone down to
get to the top again.
“That was something.”
Gianni’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
“Can you do me a favor?”
“Anything,” he says, standing next to me as I continue to look out the
window to the grounds.
“I want you and a few men to do a little surveillance on Amor. I’ll be
going there this weekend. I’ll be playing nice, telling him I haven’t heard
anything about the gem. Take the photo and try to get it analyzed with our
software. See if we can’t match it.”
“Right away.” He snags the file from my desk, and I’m left alone in the
office, feeling confident that I can finally do this.
I can prove to myself that I can do this because, in the back of my mind,
behind the humor and not taking anything seriously, doubt is there.
Chapter Three
Rosie
I’m cleaning the dishes while Caplan clears the dining room table. Mom
and Dad are already passed out in front of the TV and have been watching
all day for the most part. It was only me and Caplan for dinner. It’s always
me and Cap. Mom and Dad checked out of our lives a long time ago.
“Cap?” I call him by his nickname and the clanking of dishes stops.
“Oh, no. Nope. I know that tone and I know that nickname. You call me
that when you want something.”
“I do not.” I do. I definitely do.
“What is it, Rosie? Just spit it out.”
I squirt a little bit of soap on the dishes and grab the brush, giving it a
good scrub. “I want to know the name of the place where this guy jumped
you.”
“Rosie,” he exhales, setting the plates down on the counter next to me.
“No way am I telling you that. First, you’ll lecture me. Second, I don’t want
you to go there, and I know you. You’ll go. It isn’t safe for you.”
“And it’s safe for you?” I ask him, dropping the brush in the sink. “You
could have gotten killed.”
“They will eat you alive there, Rosie. A pretty girl going to Amor? Come
on. They will beg you to go on stage.” His eyes widen when he realizes
what he said, and an evil grin takes over my face. “I didn’t mean Amor.”
“Amor, huh? That fancy gentlemen’s club on the other side of town?”
“Nope. No. Not that one. I’m getting it confused with another. It’s not
that one.” His cheeks redden as he tries to cover up his mistake.
“Too late,” I singsong, gathering the brush in my hands again and
scrubbing the pan.
“Please,” he begs. “Don’t go there.”
“I’m going. End of story. Don’t worry. I won’t cause any trouble. I
promise. I want to go and just look around.”
“You always cause trouble even when you don’t mean to,” he states.
I gasp, hand to chest. “Not true.”
“It’s true and you know it. I’m asking you not to go. It might be an
expensive place, but it isn’t a good place to be.”
“Why were you there then?”
“The strippers,” he says a little too bluntly. “I’m still a man.”
I pretend to gag. “Hardly.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “I’m going to my room.” He presses a kiss to my
temple. “Please, don’t go. For me?” he pleads.
“I’ll think about it, but no one hurts my baby brother and gets away with
it.”
He shakes his head, but relents, knowing he won’t win this fight, and
walks away. He has to dip his head down, so he doesn’t hit the top of the
doorway. When he is gone, I grip the edges of the sink and take a deep
breath, trying to figure out how to get away with going to Amor
Gentlemen’s Club.
Either way, I’m going and I’m going to do recon. I’m going to figure out
why that stone is important and why they beat my brother in the first place.
I dry my hands and disappear into my room, deciding that, if I’m going
to go, I’m going to look the part. I need to wait a few hours to make sure
Caplan is asleep or he will try to come with me, and he can’t. It’s too risky
for him. He’ll be in danger whereas I’ll just be someone new.
I don’t have time to straighten the mess of curls, so to tame them I grab a
bottle of mousse. “Oh, shit, shit, shit,” I chant, watching the tower of foam
grow in my palm.
I always use too much.
Once my hair is as good as it is going to get, I put on some make-up.
Heavy on the mascara and I decide on a pink gloss that makes my lips look
pouty. Rummaging through my closet, I grab a pair of red heels and the
only tight black dress I have.
I slip it on, running my hands down my sides while I look in the mirror.
It’s been so long since I’ve had on anything other than jeans and a T-shirt,
I’ve forgotten what I look like outside of them. I snag my purse, my phone,
and then peek out my bedroom door to stare at Caplan’s. His door is wide
open.
The hallway is carpeted so my heels don’t make noise. I peek my head
into his room and notice he is already asleep on his bed, arm tossed over his
head, and hushed snores coming from his parted mouth. Surveying the
room, my gaze lands on the gem sitting on top of his dresser as if it isn’t
worth a ton of money, but something he found on the side of the road
instead.
I tiptoe by his bed, snagging it from the dresser. I take a moment to look
at it and realize that, whatever it is, it’s an uncut gem. It’s round but a few
parts of it are rough and jaded. I slip it in my purse and there’s a beat where
I feel horrible about going to the club behind his back.
But I need to know just how deep my brother is in with the Bianchi crime
family. Do we need to move? I want to confront the man who hurt him
anyway.
I leave, snagging my car keys from the hook.
The door creaks as I open it, echoing down the hall. It’s hard to believe
that after all the hard work, blood, sweat, and tears in this life, we somehow
still live in an apartment that is barely standing on its foundation. Water
drips from the ceiling and down the drywall, old stains are left in the leak’s
path, the lights flicker when people walk upstairs, and there’s a moldy,
musky smell always lingering in the air.
I’m tired of living like this.
Which in turn makes me feel bad because all I do lately is complain, but I
guess that’s what happens when the soul is tired. Everything around me
exhausts me and I’m tired of acting like it will all be okay.
I open my purse to double-check that my pink knife is still sitting at the
bottom.
Bingo.
I carry it with me everywhere I go. Being a single woman isn’t easy and
I’ll be damned if I let a man touch me without getting sliced and diced first.
“Rosie,” Ms. Henderson, the lovely elderly woman who lives next door
catches me just as I begin down the steps. “You look like a hooker,” she
blurts. “Good for you.”
I chuckle, my cheeks hurting from how hard I’m smiling. “Thank you,
Ms. Henderson. I’m going out. I think I deserve it.”
“You do, honey. Come back with a hot piece. I live through you now.”
“Will do.” I wave at her before pushing the door open into the heat of the
night.
Humidity wraps around my skin like a heavy cloak and sweat threatens
to bead across my neck as I walk swiftly to the car. My heels click against
the pavement, and I turn a few heads while people walk by me, but I don’t
care about them.
I have one goal in mind and it’s by far one of the most reckless things
I’ve ever done in my life. I’m known as a thinker, someone who always has
a plan, but I’m tired of planning. I’m tired of being the one who always has
their head on their shoulders. My planning, my thinking, clearly has gotten
me nowhere in life. I’m working a dead-end job trying to save a family
business that can’t be saved. I don’t know why I bother trying. Maybe my
issue is that I think too much, I plan too much, and I hope too much.
My brother is my everything. He’s young and he isn’t trapped like I am. I
want him to have a way out, and desperate people do desperate things, so
that’s exactly what I’m doing tonight.
Find the guy that hurt my brother and maybe I can make sure my
brother’s life is safe.
I get into the old Buick that’s been in the family way too long and
somehow it still runs. It’s rusted and loud. The belt screeches when I turn
the engine and I wince. The loud sound eventually fades as I drive out of
the parking lot.
The drive across town is quick since I’m lost in my head, and nerves
decide to get the best of me. I can’t believe I’m doing this.
I pass the parking lot to the club, knowing I can’t park this piece of crap
car in the same place filled with Rolls Royces and Lamborghinis.
How the hell did my brother get into this place?
I park in an abandoned lot a block away and take a deep breath, clutching
the wheel as tightly as possible. Am I really going to walk into the lion’s
den? What if I do this and they know? What if I don’t make it out alive?
“You’re being dramatic,” I tell myself, releasing the wheel. “I’m a single
woman going in there for a good time. Nothing more.” I remind myself of
the plan. I have to stick to the plan. Opening my purse, the gem stares at me
as I grab my lip gloss to touch it up.
I close my purse quickly, not wanting to be reminded of what I’m about
to do. Climbing out of my car, I hold my chin high and strut down the
sidewalk. I’ve always been told I have a resting bitch face, so I let it rest,
making sure everyone who sees me knows I’m not in the mood to fuck
around.
I’m already losing my damn courage when my feet begin to hurt from
these stupid heels. I remember why I don’t wear them anymore. They are
terrible. I don’t know why women choose to do this to themselves.
When I get to the front of the building, I swallow the pain and cover it up
by pushing through it. The club is classy, finished with a matte black, with a
large wooden door that three people can fit through. A purple light lines the
bushes out front, and a red rope keeps the line in check, so I step in and wait
my turn. I think about the name Amor and laugh.
They could have been more creative in naming the place, but what do I
know? I only work at a very successful failing general store named
O’Connor’s.
The line doesn’t move for what seems like hours, but a man dressed in a
suit that’s probably more expensive than what I could ever dream of making
stops at my side. His eyes roam me up and down and I have to swallow the
urge to roll my eyes.
I’m here to learn information and I can’t do that if I let my attitude loose.
He grins, unclipping the rope. “Welcome to Amor,” he holds out a hand
for me, and with a fake smile, I slip my palm across his. “Beautiful,” he
says, bringing the top of my hand to his lips to kiss my knuckles. “I love
your hair.” He plucks a curl, straightens it, then lets it go to watch it bounce.
“Thank you,” I pretend to be breathless.
“Ralphie, let this one in,” he shouts over his shoulder to the bouncer.
The big guy nods, the purple light reflecting from his bald head, and
opens the door.
“Thank you.” I bite my lip at the guy who allowed me out of the line.
“Oh, you’re welcome, sweetie.” A thick accent of some kind make his
words seem harsher. New York, maybe? I don’t know. His eyes eat me up
as I back away from him and a few people in line shout in anger. They want
to go inside the club too. “Hey, shut the fuck up before I make you stand
out here all night,” the guy threatens.
Everyone falls silent.
“Have a good time,” the bouncer states, opening the door for me to
reveal a very dark room. His voice is thick with an accent too, but foreign.
The way he says those four words creep up my spine and make my skin
crawl in fear.
Our eyes meet and they are a cold, ice blue, making me feel like I’ve
stepped into a tundra.
I swallow, giving him an unsure smile. I put a pep in my step because
fuck that guy and walk further into the dark club.
The music is so loud, having a conversation won’t happen. The lights
change from purple to blue, an apparent theme they want to keep, and
private booths circle the main stage. The tables are set strategically so
everyone can see the stages. To the left though was a hallway that didn’t
leave much to the imagination for what happened back there.
I bet that’s where all the private rooms are.
The song changes and a woman saunters on stage, placing her back
against the long, silver pole. I take a seat at the bar, wanting to keep my
distance, and the bartender, a man in a tight black shirt stretched over his
chest, leans over the counter so I can hear him speak.
“What can I get you, Beautiful?” he has an accent too.
Equally charming and dangerous.
“Can I have a dirty martini? But make it dirty with extra olives, please.”
He smirks. “A filthy martini, for the filthy girl. Got it,” he winks at me.
Oh, please.
I want to roll my eyes again.
Men. Do they think saying a compliment that has no meaning behind it
will work on a woman? Maybe I’m just complicated.
“Thank you so much.” I wince when I hear how fake that sounds. I need
to tone it back on the cluelessness.
He places a purple napkin on the counter in front of me, then the glass.
“On the house,” he says.
I slip him cash. “No thank you. I don’t like to owe anyone.”
“You don’t owe anything. It’s taken care of.” His eyes dart to a man on
the other side of the bar. “He’s one of the owners. He bought your drink.”
“Oh.” I glance down at the bar, lifting the glass in the air as a thank you
and he does the same. I slip the money back into my purse, relieved because
I don’t have much to last for the rest of the month.
The guy at the end of the bar, the owner, picks up his drink and makes his
way toward me. He seems sophisticated, but the kind money buys, and the
type that flaunts their worth. I’m not interested in that type. I love a man in
a suit; something about a man exuding power excites me because I love to
test power, poke it, and challenge it, but in a good way.
I don’t like fake power, something this man is pretending as he strolls ups
to me, cocky smile on his face as if he can get anything and everything he
wants. And maybe on any other day he can, but today isn’t that day.
Not with me.
But I’ll let him think so. I’ll let him have his dreams and dirty thoughts
about me while I plan on getting every ounce of information I can out of
him. I won’t fuck him. I have limits. I’ve never had sex and I’m not about
to give my virginity to this guy.
I’ve wanted to have sex, but the time never felt right. I never felt
pressured to have sex. I never felt like I had to. I also was never very
interested or attracted enough to someone to fall into bed with them. It
hasn’t been on my to-do list - only surviving has been.
“Hey gorgeous,” a slight slur in his greeting.
Perfect. He’s already drunk. This will be easier than I thought.
“Hi,” I purr, swirling my drink with the toothpick the olives are on.
He sits down and his hand slaps the table. That’s when I notice his
knuckles, how bruised and red they are from getting into a fight.
My anger rises, knowing that this is the man who hurt my brother. It has
to be him.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here?” he touches my hair and I
try not to flinch. He tugs a curl like most people do.
I hate how strangers invite themselves to touch my hair. They think it’s
fun and it isn’t a big deal, but I’d like for someone to ask if it’s okay to
randomly touch me.
“I love your hair. It’s unique. Like you.”
“Mmm, thank you.” I sip my drink, acting like I’m interested. I pretend
to just see his hand and I gasp, gently touching the top of his knuckles. “Oh
my gosh, what happened? This looks sooo painful,” I make sure to
emphasize the o’s, wanting him to think I care.
I hope it fucking hurts.
“It’s fine,” he bites, the words clear and crisp as if he hasn’t been
drinking all day. “A punk got in my way and took something that belongs to
me. He looks a lot worse than my hand.”
Caplan does look a lot worse. I’m worried about him. His eye was
swelling pretty badly and if it isn’t better, I’ll have to take him to the doctor,
which he will refuse because we can’t afford it.
“I hope you got what you were looking for.” I trail my fingers up his arm
and with my free hand, I down all of my martini, needing a kickstart to the
night.
“Another martini?” he asks me, snapping his fingers at the bartender.
“I’d love one. Thank you so much for taking such good care of me.”
Ugh, this is so painful to do, but I need to get him alone. I want him to think
he’s going to get lucky and then I want us to strike a deal. He gets the stone
back in exchange for Caplan’s life.
Another drink is set down in front of me, the bartender giving me an odd
look as he tilts his head. Concern shifts quickly over his eyes, the lights
flashing across them just in time for me to see, but just as fast as it
appeared, the concern disappears.
I pluck an olive from the toothpick and roll it around my tongue, the
saltiness spreading across my taste buds, pairing well with the gin.
“So what happened? Why did that guy attack you? Is that what
happened?” I keep my voice calm and sweet as if I’m just some stupid girl
who is here for a good time without a care in the world about her safety.
Isn’t that what it’s all about? Don’t men love that?
“How about I tell you in a private room?” The way he asks leaves no
room for doubt about what he wants. His accent is thicker and huskier, his
eyes roaming down my body as he licks his lips like he is a feral dog about
to make me his bitch.
I’m no one’s bitch.
By the end of tonight, it’s me who is going to own him.
My blood is thirsty for revenge. My fingers are trembling to grab the
knife and threaten the man who dared to lay his hand on my brother, a
teenage boy who doesn’t know any better. I’ve never confronted anyone
like this before. I’ve never been the type to paint myself as brave. I think
there’s a line between bravery and stupidity.
A very fine line.
I wonder if bravery only counts if the goal is achieved, and if I fail
whether I’ll be considered stupid.
I have no doubt this man will kill me or someone in his mafia will find
me, track me down, and do god knows what to me.
I was ready for that. I was ready to pay for whatever crime I was about to
commit.
Slipping off the seat, I tug my dress down slowly and his eyes stay glued
to my thighs, watching the dress hug my curves.
“I’m ready when you are.” I take another sip of my drink.
“Give me a minute, Baby,” he grins, a sly, pervy smile stretching his lips
that has a cold grasp settling in my bones.
“Gladly.” I bite my lip, giving him a once-over to act like I’m interested.
I give him my back and my smile fades along with my act. I rolled my
eyes and gulp my martini down, biting the olive angrily. A part of me
wishes I would have slapped Caplan on the back of the head for hanging
out with these people.
Something in the dark has the hair on the back of my neck standing up.
My instincts roar for me to get out of this building, but I had a goal I had to
meet. My eyes roam the poorly lit room, only giving me flashes of light
when the cycle of purple and blue switch directions. A fever builds on the
inside of me, becoming warmer with every passing second.
I’m not sure what to make of it. I want to run, but I don’t want to run out
the door. I want to step into the darkness that’s compelling me. Even the
urge to listen to the silent call isn’t enough to distract me from my goal.
Nothing can.
A hot palm presses against my lower back and it takes all I have not to
tense, push him away, and punch him in the face for touching me.
“Ready, Baby?”
I do my best not to roll my eyes at the pet name. It’s easy to use, but a
little degrading in the sense he is using it because he doesn’t mean for it to
sound sweet.
“Ready as ever I’ll ever be,” I say honestly, keeping a flirty smile on my
face while he guides me down the hall to a private area.
The gem in my purse is heavy but so is the knife.
“What’s your name, Baby?” he asks me just as we get to the door of the
room he just paid for.
“Calling me Baby is just fine,” I tell him, batting my long lashes at him
while I twirl my tongue around an olive before sucking it into my mouth.
There’s no way in hell I’m telling this asshole my real name.
He laughs, wrapping his other arm around my waist as we step into the
room. There’s a long black leather couch against the wall, a private bar, and
a stripper pole in the middle of the room for what I have to guess are private
dances.
“My lucky night, you stumbling into the club. I needed the distraction,”
he says, plopping down on the couch and bringing me down with him.
I park my ass on his lap, my nerves getting the best of me. The door is
right there. I could run. I could run and never look back, dropping this
stupid rock in the middle of the road. Then, it could be someone else’s
problem.
But it’s worth so much. If we didn’t need the money so badly, I would
have flushed this thing down the toilet, which is still the smart thing to do.
The urge to keep it for me and my family is strong. It really could fix all our
problems, even while creating so many new ones.
My brother’s life is more important, so I need to play the part of a
clueless hooker.
“Do we get a bartender and a show?” I pet his chest, holding back a gag.
“We will in twenty minutes. I wanted alone time with you,” he says, his
hand drifting up and down my thigh.
“Oh, you can tell me what happened to your hand,” I remind him, taking
it again and holding it as if it’s about shatter. I kiss the top part where the
skin is marred and broken with dried blood. “You poor thing,” I purr,
probably coming on a little too strong.
I wouldn’t know. I have never done this before. I’ve been holed up in the
store and maybe I’m acting out like this because I need excitement in my
life. I don’t know. I don’t really care.
This is the one thing that’s made me feel alive, no matter how fucked up
it is.
“Some punk kid came in here, started talking about how to join the…” he
catches himself. “Company I work for. We like new recruits,” he adds.
“They are eager and want to climb the ranks. We are expanding so I didn’t
mind talking to him.”
Joining the mafia? What the hell is Caplan thinking? He left that part of
the story out.
“He went on about how he needs quick money. His family was in debt,
and they needed to get out quickly. I told him this isn’t the type of
organization you join on a whim. If he needed quick cash, he could be a
runner for us, someone who drops…” he watches his words again and my
heart rate is beating faster with rage. “Merchandise for us.”
Merchandise.
Drugs.
Oh, Caplan was going to get his ass beat when I get home.
“The kid was adamant. He wanted to join regardless and his eagerness
threw me off. I told him no. We got into an argument, and he threw a punch,
so I kicked his fucking ass and reminded him what an idiot he is. He stole
something very valuable from me too. When I get it back, his life is mine.
He stole a very rare gem, one worth millions.”
“And if he returns it, will his life be safe, or do you kill him regardless
because he stole it?” I ask, knowing damn well this answer was going to
change what was going to happen in the next second.
“Kill him. No one makes a fool out of me and gets away with it.
Whoever touches that gem is good as dead.” He pushes me off him and
pulls a gun from his waistband; the loud cocking of it has me frozen.
I lift my purse and set it on the counter, showing him I’m not armed.
“What are you doing?”
“Baby,” he sighs, scratching his temple with the barrel of the gun.
“You’re hot and a good fucking distraction, but I don’t like how many
questions you ask. Unfortunately, you know too much. I have to kill you.”
“But you didn’t…You said…”
“Aw, I know. It’s nothing personal.”
“It’s personal,” I sass, racking my brain as to how I’m going to get out of
this alive. “It’s very personal. This is my life. I was only trying to have a
good time with you.”
“Is that it?” he narrows his eyes, the disbelieving tone causing my throat
to dry, but I’m nowhere near thirsty.
“That’s it. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” I’m hoping I can get on his
good side, his drunk side, and he will enjoy the company he will have
tonight.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t risk you giving that information out.”
I hold my breath and dive to the right just as he fires his gun. The
gunshot causes my ears to ring, and I snag my purse, jumping behind the
bar to open it.
Fuck, I didn’t expect him to bring a gun to a knife fight. I’m screwed.
I grab the knife and close my purse just as he walks around the bar and
his shadow falls over me. I tuck the knife behind me, breathing hard to
show how scared I am.
I’m terrified.
I’m way too naïve to have put myself in this situation, but I won’t die
without a fight.
“Stupid little whore,” he spits at me, his accent thick this time,
unmistakably Italian. He grips me by the back of my head, his blunt nails
digging into my scalp. “You would have been a good fuck. I would have
loved to see you ride my cock, but pretty bitches like you always love to
ask questions when you already know something you shouldn’t.” He
presses the hot barrel against my shoulder, the metal hot from firing the
bullet. “So tell me and I’ll make your death quick. Don’t tell me, and I
won’t. It’s an easy decision.”
“I don’t know anything,” I say through tight teeth.
“I know a liar when I see one. You want to die a liar?”
“Better than dying a fucking creep.” I flip my blade and stab it into his
neck, knowing that’s where the jugular is after my anatomy class in high
school.
I never thought I’d need to know anything I learned in there, but here we
are. His eyes are wide, and his face turns red.
“Fucking…bitch,” he stumbles backward, lifting the gun to kill me, but I
am quicker.
I yank the knife from his neck and blood begins to swim down his
expensive suit. His skin loses color, and he falls to his knees, losing any
energy he had.
I’m shaking. My entire body is trembling. I have no idea what I just did.
What did I do? What just happened?
Oh my god.
My eyes blur with tears as I stare at the dead body at my feet. His eyes
are open and the puddle of blood leaving him grows larger.
I open my purse, debating if I want to leave the gem in his pocket. I take
it out of my purse, the temptation to shove it in his pocket and run so
strong.
A strong, deep, cunning voice laced with a slight tsking sound has me
holding my breath.
“Oh, what a mess you’ve made, Tesoro.”
I don’t want to admit that the pet name he just called me sounds sweet
and exotic falling from his lips because I can’t afford to care right now.
And I don’t.
Tesoro.
Whatever that means.
Chapter Four
Ari
I came to Amor to tell Bianchi that I hadn’t heard anything in the small
amount of time that had gone by since I had seen him. I wanted him to
know I was taking this seriously when I wasn’t. I wasn’t going to waste my
energy unless this gem fell into my lap, but it’s good to keep enemies close
and all that other bullshit.
“I appreciate you coming to tell me.” He glances at his watch. “I have to
go. I have a drop I need to be at. Enjoy the club tonight. On me, Mr.
Milazzo. I appreciate your alliance with me.”
“Glad I can help,” I lie, lifting my glass of scotch as he and his guards
leave me alone.
My interest is peaked in this gem. I want to see what the fuss is about. I
want to know why he wants it so badly. A man of Bianchi’s status should be
able to get gems at a snap of a finger. Black market gems, the kind that are
forbidden to have, are the best to own and for some reason, he is fixated on
this one.
Why?
I am going to find out, even if it means playing friends with my own
worst enemy.
“Another drink, Sir?” the waitress asks, holding a tray full of empty
glasses.
She’s wearing nothing but nipple pasties and a thong. Any other day, I
might be interested, but my mind is focused on too many other things to be
interested in sex.
“Please,” I tell her, handing her my glass. “Make it a double.” It’s been a
day.
One of the businesses that had an agreement to pay in monthly
installments for the loan they borrowed tried to ghost us today.
Unfortunately, it didn’t end well for them and now I’m a proud business
owner.
Again.
When will people realize they can’t fuck me over? I always find a way to
get what is mine, no matter the cost to others.
The door opens and the woman who enters has me leaning forward.
She’s beautiful. Her curls bounce with every step she takes. She assesses
her surroundings, and something tells me she isn’t here for a good time. It’s
how she’s presenting herself. If she isn’t careful, this place will eat her alive
because men like us feed off curious, questionable, and all too eager people.
It’s our job.
And she just became prey.
I’m all too curious about her though and I find myself watching her from
the darkened corner. She turns around, brows drawn as her eyes skirt across
the room trying to find the source of her discomfort.
Can she really feel my gaze from over here?
“Here you are, Mr. Milazzo.” The waitress hands me my drink and even
as she saunters away, her hips swaying back and forth more than necessary,
showcasing her round ass, my attention still isn’t on her but on the mess of
curls sitting at the bar.
It’s dark in here and only the strobes of light give me glimpses when the
purple hues land on her. I can’t see her eye color from here, but I can see
the elegant curve of her jaw and the fake pout on her lips as she tries to play
one of the Bianchi men.
She’s really bad at this and I’m amused.
Even with my lighthearted nature, when I love to tease and joke, being
genuinely amused takes effort these days.
“Oh, Tesoro,” I say to myself while I watch her. “What are you up to?”
She tosses her head back and laughs at something. I know it’s a fake laugh,
something she’s forcing herself to do. I want to hear the real thing. I want to
know if her curls bounce as real, stomach-aching chuckles grip her.
I appreciate her bravery. Perhaps that’s why I’m so intrigued by her. She
waltzed in here as if she owned the place but it’s clear she has no idea what
she’s doing. When she stands, the light hits her just right and I’m able to see
the smile fade from her face, the actress vanishing, and the unamused,
annoyed expression takes over.
Taking a sip of my scotch, she stares into the corner where I’m sitting
and I know she can’t see me, but my fingers grip the glass in my hand the
longer our eyes are connected. Bianchi’s brother places his hand on her
lower back, and I have to take a larger swallow of my drink to wash down
my envy.
I want to grip those curls while I lift that tight dress to her hips and fuck
her wildly on any surface she’d allow. My cock stirs at the thought. I’ve
always had a thing for daring brunettes and, right now, she’s checking every
single one of my boxes.
The fake smile is back and as they walk down the hall, I stand, tossing a
large tip on the table. I’m going to take a stroll, that’s all. I keep to myself,
my drink in hand, mastering the pissed-off look I’m sporting right now so
no one talks to me.
When I get to the other side of the room, I catch a glimpse of a door
shutting, and I wait a few minutes, throwing a hundred-dollar bill on the
stage as the dancer begins to strip. I’m not interested. My focus is on the
woman behind the door.
“Can I get you anything, Mr. Milazzo?” my waitress finds me, a bright
smile on her face, but her eyes are dilated. She is high.
“No, thank you.” I tuck one hand in my pockets while I lean against the
wall, finishing off my scotch. “I’m done for the night.”
“Hope to see you again.” She stumbles away in her too-high heels but
giggles when a man catches her, and she falls into his lap.
I take a step into the darkened hallway, then another, leaning just outside
the door when I hear the pop of gunshots. No one else can hear them. The
music is too loud. I try the door handle, but it’s locked.
“It’s always fucking locked, isn’t it?” I mumble to myself, thinking of all
the movies I’ve seen where the door has to be broken down. “I’m a cliché,”
I grumble, shoving my shoulder into the door, once, twice, and it finally
gives.
I see her standing over a dead body, a bloody knife in her hand, and she’s
completely dazed. Her entire body is trembling, and her breathing is fast,
reminding me of someone having a panic attack.
“Oh, what a mess you’ve made, Tesoro.” I close what is left of the door
and stand in front of it.
She spins around, holding the bloody knife in front of her. Her bright
blue eyes are round with fear and tears stream down her face.
“Woah. I’m innocent. I’m not going to hurt you,” I state calmly and as
softly as I can muster. I take a step forward, but she swings the knife in
front of her.
“Don’t come any closer.” Her voice breaks, absolute terror, hanging on
her words.
I lift my brows, finding her comical. While afraid, she has fire in her eyes
that makes them burn a brighter blue, more vivid and eccentric than I’ve
ever seen. Her lips are pink and full. Her face, while delicate, is round.
She’s stunning even when she’s quivering in fear, and I have to find a
way to make her mine. After the conversation I’ve had with my brothers
today, which is another reason why I’m here to drown out my sorrows, I’ve
been reminded of an obligation I have to the throne.
Just like Carmine did ten years ago.
It’s been so many fucking years. Why can’t they let this tradition go?
Carmine was adamant when we spoke on the phone. Many things can
change, but this rule cannot. It shows power.
As if I need more of that.
“I’m going to assume you have a little less than five minutes to decide
what you want to do before your life is over,” I tell her, the reality crashing
slowly down on her. Her big blue eyes water and the hand holding the knife
is still quaking.
While brave, she shows her humanity.
Killing someone, taking a life, isn’t easy; but to do it more than once, it
does get easier. I’m assuming this man deserved it, not that it makes it right
in anyone’s eyes.
Except mine.
I believe you have to do what you need to in order to survive and make it
in this world or it will kill you first.
Taking another step forward, my Tesoro slashes the knife in the air, still
fighting for her life.
“You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name? I only want
to help you. That’s it.”
“I’m not telling you anything about me,” she spits. “You’re with them.
You’re probably one of them. One of the people who want to hurt my—”
She stops speaking, rolling her pouty pink lips together that I want to ruin.
The urge to pin her against the wall, force her to drop the knife from her
hand, and kiss her over the dead body still bleeding on the floor is intense.
“I promise, I won’t hurt you,” I try to reassure her but I know it isn’t
going to work. She’s too nervous, too high-strung from the situation.
She tries to stab me instead of swiping it in the air; she lunges. I move
out of the way with grace, dodging her poor attempt to hurt me. She
stumbles in her heels, and I catch her, holding her in a tight grip against me.
Her entire body is lined with mine, her skin hot to the touch, sweaty from
fighting and killing.
“Let me go.”
“As soon as you promise not to attack me, Tesoro.”
“That’s not my name,” she seethes, trying to wiggle out of my grasp.
I keep a hand locked around her wrist so the hand holding the knife can’t
get any ideas. It’s still dripping with the other man’s blood. We don’t have
much time before someone comes in here, and if Bianchi catches one of his
men dead by her hand, she won’t see tomorrow morning.
“Stop fighting me,” I warn, squeezing her tighter.
My Tesoro stomps on my foot, elbows me in the gut, then kicks me in the
fucking balls. “Fuck,” I groan, holding my hands over my cock while
leaning against the wall.
Damn it, I think I’m in love with this woman. She’s fire and I want to
douse her in kerosene to watch her explode into the wild blaze she deserves
to be.
I somehow point my gun at her, through the pain and haze of my balls
aching from her kick. “I’m trying to help you,” I say. “But kick my balls
again and I’ll put a bullet between your pretty eyes.”
She holds up the gem, the one Bianchi wants, and I freeze. “Go ahead. It
will keep the ones I love safe if you kill me now and the gem goes back to
Bianchi. It’s the perfect setup.” She bends down and places the gem on the
dead man’s back. “Go ahead,” she urges me, readying herself to die.
I’m not going to kill her. I’m too intrigued by her. I want to know more.
Who is she protecting and how can I help?
“Leave the gem there and I’ll tell Bianchi his guy had it the entire time.
I’ll make up a story he’ll believe.”
She snorts, shaking her head as she wipes the knife on her black dress.
She ruined the gorgeous clothing. I’ll have to buy her a new one. “Who
the hell are you to convince Bianchi?”
I realize then she has no idea who I am, and I’d rather keep it that way.
“I’m one of the higher-ups,” I lie, slowly tucking away my gun to show her
I’m not going to kill her. “Leave the gem. I’ll take the rest from here.”
She doesn’t believe me and quicker than I can blink, she throws the knife
and it lands right in my left shoulder to the hilt.
“Damn it!”
She runs out of the emergency exit in the room, and I groan when I pull
the knife free, noticing the stone is gone and I’m left to explain the dead
body.
Fucking perfect. I’m going to find that woman.
And I’m going to make an offer she can’t refuse.
Chapter Five
Rosie
I’ve been scrubbing the same spot on the floor for what feels like hours. My
arms hurt but all I can see is the blood pooling on the floor. I know I didn’t
kill the man here, but the image of his lifeless eyes has haunted me since
last night.
I killed a man.
I took a life. He had his last drink, his last laugh, his last everything. I
took that from him.
I gag and my morning coffee threatens to come up.
I’m exhausted. I tossed and turned all night, dreaming of those lifeless
eyes, the blood spreading across the floor like a water pipe slowly leaking.
Then, there’s the issue of having a witness. I should have killed him too, but
I didn’t have the stomach for it. I didn’t even have the stomach for the guy I
did kill. Plus, the man I stabbed, there was something about him that made
me second guess every motive I had last night.
I should turn myself in. I should admit what I did and pay for my crime,
but the thought only makes me sicker.
Tilting my head back, I take a deep breath, my entire body still shaking
as if an earthquake has exploded through it and my bones are still settling
from the aftermath.
There will be no settling. I’m forever altered by what I did last night.
I should get rid of this stupid gem, but no matter how hard I try, no
matter how much I try to convince myself it’s the best thing to do, my
brother’s words echo in my mind.
If we sell the stone, we wouldn’t have to worry about money again, but
it’s only a matter of time before the Bianchi crime family finds us and
makes us pay for what we both did.
We should sell the store, create fake identities, and get the hell out of
here. Would we have enough time? Would they find us? Where could we go
where they wouldn’t look for the people who stole from them and killed
one of their own?
The door chimes and I hang my head. The one time I’m not in the mood
for customers. I should have closed for the day but the need to make even
ten dollars won out.
“I’ll be with you in just a moment!” I shout from the back room.
They don’t reply.
I wipe my hands and my eyes go to my purse where the stone is to make
sure it’s still there. I walk out, plaster a smile on my face, then freeze when
I see who it is.
“Hello, my Tesoro,” the man from last night says a deep, rustic timbre
that has warmth spreading in my belly.
He peers out the window and grabs the lock, turning the deadbolt. The
slide of the lock is loud, echoing in the empty store. The two men with him
close the blinds to the large windows that allow me to see most of the street
and people walking by. The sun is blocked and no longer seeping through
the glass and onto the floor. The store darkens and the two men stand, hands
clasped in front of them while the man from last night walks forward.
One of his guards looks a lot like him, but the man coming toward me
with powerful, determined strides holds an air of power the other doesn’t.
Holy shit, the Bianchi family has found me to finish the job.
“My shoulder hurts from the little stunt you pulled last night,” he informs
me, patting the spot on his shoulder where I flung the knife.
Honestly, I didn’t expect the damn thing to stick. I’ve never thrown a
knife before. That was luck…or misfortune at this point. I’m not sure.
“You weren’t too hard to find, Rosie O’Connor.”
I swallow, a cold sweat breaking out over my entire body. I grip the
counter to stabilize my balance and do my best not to look absolutely
terrified.
“If I can find you, so can Bianchi. You’re lucky, not many people saw
you last night.” He picks up a bag of flour, inspecting it before setting it
back down. “Quite a little ruckus you caused last night. I covered for you
though. Don’t worry.” He takes another step forward and my traitorous eyes
travel down his body.
I can’t help but admire how good he looks in a suit. The midnight blue
blazer stretches over his broad shoulders and the onyx black shirt pairs well
against the olive hue of his skin. It’s tailored to his body, crisp and clean
with no wrinkles.
He’s beautiful.
Dangerously, beautiful.
“How? Why?” I’m finally able to move my tongue to speak.
“I think we can be beneficial to one another, Rosie.” He takes another
step forward, his shadow falling over me, and I have to tilt my head back to
look at him. His golden-brown eyes are intense, pulling into my soul for me
to obey him.
I’ve never been the one to obey, but I will admit I need help and I’m
willing to listen.
“So you turned your back on Bianchi? Are you insane? I don’t know how
that helps either of us. He is one of the most powerful people in the city.”
One of the guards chuckles and the man in front of me smirks - a cocky,
sure-of-himself smirk. He holds up two fingers and pinches them together
until there is a small space between them.
“One of them,” he corrects and reminds me. “I am the other powerful
man in the city.” He holds out his wide hand with long, thick fingers.
“Aristide Milazzo. You may call me Ari.”
“Milazzo,” I whisper, completely horrified. Everyone knows the
Milazzos. I knew recently that Milazzo changed leaders from one brother to
the next, but it happened so recently, no one knows the new brother that
well. “You’re more established than Bianchi. You’re—”
“—Absolutely terrifying. So it would be in your best interest to speak to
me regarding your situation. Bianchi is bad but I’m so much worse, Tesoro.
Are you willing to hear what I want?”
“Let’s hear it.” I know whatever it is, I won’t like it. Men like him don’t
usually give amazing opportunities without a catch. If there is one thing I
know about the Milazzos, it’s that there’s always a catch.
His eyes drift over my face as if he is trying to memorize my features so
he never forgets. “I was at the club last night because I made a deal with
Bianchi that I’d keep my ear to the ground about this stolen gem. Here’s
what I think…” He leans an elbow against the counter. “It was your brother
that stole the gem in hopes you and your family can get back on your feet.
You’re in a lot of debt and the store is failing. You aren’t making enough
money to even stay afloat.”
“Fuck you,” I spit, suddenly furious he’d dive into my personal history
without permission. “That is none of your business.”
He grips my wrist and pulls me across the counter until my face is inches
away from his. “Everything about you from this moment on is my
business,” he grits, his eyes falling to my lips.
I try to pull away from him, but his hold on me is stronger.
“If only I had another knife,” I seethe, my gaze casting to his devilish
lips.
He is everything I desire in a man and everything I despise.
His rough stubble is a shadow on his cheek, and I imagine how it would
feel between my thighs, rubbing against me while he lowered himself down
my body.
Even the thought pisses me off as much as it turns me on.
A breeze of a dark chuckle puffs across my lips, and my tongue sweeps
across my bottom lip in hopes of a taste of whatever sin he breathes.
“I’m sure I’d survive your weak throwing skills.”
I lift my chin. “I meant to hit your shoulder.”
“You’re pretty when you lie to me, Tesoro,” he purrs, his voice washing
over me like a safety blanket and damn him, I want to roll myself in it to
stay warm.
“I’m not lying.” No man will make me surrender, lie or not.
“Of course, you aren’t.” He brushes his thumb across my lip, and I hate
the gasp that leaves me, igniting heat in his eyes.
I know there is sexual tension here. Who wouldn’t be attracted to this
man? God, especially in this suit? I’d love to take it off piece by piece. I’d
love for him to keep it on while he bends me over this counter and takes
me.
The thought takes me off guard. I’ve never had thoughts like that about
anyone. I’ve never been attracted enough to someone, and I haven’t had
time to waste on dating when I needed to focus on supporting my family.
He lets me go and the place where he touched me burns as if he has
branded me with his name, stamping that I’m his and belong to him, which
I don’t.
“You have three options,” he begins, tugging on his sleeves. “I let
Bianchi have you, your family, and let them have their way with you.
Second, I turn you in to the cops for the horrible crime you’ve committed.”
The condescending tsks irk me. “A pretty woman such as yourself shouldn’t
lower to such violent tendencies.”
He’s trying to piss me off and it’s working.
“You’re about to be on the receiving end of those violent tendencies.”
My lips curl in rage with every word, my teeth tight as if they are about to
crack.
He snags my chin and tilts his head, leaning forward as if he’s about to
kiss me. He doesn’t. I’m equally disappointed and relieved. “Don’t make
promises you can’t keep, Tesoro.” Ari lets me go with a slight shove,
gentle, yet a bit forced.
“What is the last option?” I ask, pushing an unruly curl from my face.
He watches it bounce in fascination before his eyes land on my face
again. “You and I make an agreement. Now that I’m the leader of my
family….” He pauses to choose his words carefully “Business.”
“Mafia. You can say it. Don’t treat me like I’m stupid.”
“Fair enough,” he nods. “I’m the leader of the Milazzo Mafia and with
that comes responsibilities. I need an heir. You marry me for one year, give
me an heir, and I’ll offer you and your family protection against the
Bianchi’s. I’ll make sure your family is taken care of financially as well.”
I lift my hand to slap him, but he catches my wrist just as my palm
hovers over his cheek. The guards take a step forward, hands going under
their jackets to pull out their guns, probably, and my newfound enemy
raises a hand to stop them.
“It’s fine,” he speaks calmly, if not with a slightly humorous tone. “I like
your fight, Rosie, but I’m not here to fight you.”
“No, you’re here to blackmail me,” I seethe, chest rising and falling in
rapid beats as rage fills me. “How dare you? How dare you threaten me as
if you haven’t done anything worse. I was protecting my brother.”
“And now I’m giving you the option to do that. What will happen if you
don’t take me up on my offer? You’ll get killed. Your entire family first,
then they will probably make you watch as your brother is killed. You’ll be
the last. You see, vengeance is a sport men like me are professionals in and
you do not stand a chance. So tell me, what are you willing to do to keep
your family safe?”
I know what I have to do, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.
A playful gleam shines in his eyes like the sun casting rays on the ocean,
but I’m not fooled. The ocean is a place that will suck you under and kill
you. Aristide Milazzo is Mariana’s Trench, a depth I know I’ll be pulled
into whether I like it or not.
“I’m not having sex with you. I’d rather use my knife on myself.”
He exhales with a shake of his head. “What did I tell you about lying to
me?”
I flinch. “I’m not lying. I’m not having sex with you.”
“We will see about that, Tesoro. We will see.”
“You’ll see nothing but my hand across your face if you even try,” I state,
voice wavering because I really do want to have sex with him. I bet he
knows exactly what to do.
I bet he’s the kind of man that coaches you through it and whispers sweet
nothings like, “That’s it. You’re doing so good. Good, look at you taking me
so well. I knew you could do it.”
My knees nearly buckle at the dirty thought.
I wouldn’t know what to do in return, but again, I bet he’d coach me
through it.
“Slide your tongue under my cock, trace the tip, stroke me. Yes, like that.
You’re such a quick learner, Tesoro.”
My cheeks heat when I disappear in a rabbit hole of filthy daydreams and
his grin is so large, it reaches his eyes, as if he knows what I am thinking
about.
“I’m not having sex with you.” I try to sound determined, but my voice
comes out raspy and raw as if I’ve just had a shot of whiskey.
“So you’ve said.”
“And so I mean.” I cross my arms and turn my eyes to slits. “You are so
confident. Why not pick any other woman to have sex with you and have
your child? I’m sure you aren’t hurting in that department. Why me?”
“Why you,” he repeats my question as an answer, sounding like he
doesn’t know.
I wait for him to answer and when he doesn’t, I become impatient.
“Well?”
“Because we both need something, and we both get something out of it. “
“You sound so giving.” I roll my eyes. “You’re making me have sex with
you.”
With a low growl, he crowds me against the counter, caging me in with
his arms, and his lips tickle my own, not in a kiss, but to make a point.
“Let me make one thing very clear. I will not make you have sex with
me. Your choices will be yours and in the end, if you choose not to, then
that’s a decision I will respect. Make no mistake, I’ll make sure to make
every fucking moment good for you.” His lips threaten mine again. “I’ll
take care of you, and I’ll make you come over and over again until you’re
mindless and exhausted. I’ll give you pleasure no other man has taken the
time to give you, Tesoro. I won’t make you regret your decision to give
your body to me in every way.”
My eyes flutter shut when his breath ghosts across my neck and he takes
a step backward, putting space between us.
I open my eyes to see him smirking at me again and I have to bury my
lust to get angry. “Looks like we are going to get artificially inseminated
then because I’m not falling into bed with you.”
“So you keep saying, but I don’t believe you.”
Every word that falls from his mouth makes me see red.
I’ll just have to prove him wrong.
Chapter Six
Ari
Seeing her so angry brings me so much enjoyment. She’s so angry when
she’s given the options. I see fury, lust, and uncertainty, but it’s the want
that has me wishing I could bend her over right here and now, to give her a
taste of what she’d be signing up for.
I’d never force her to have sex with me. I’m not that kind of man. If her
way of giving me an heir means we go to a doctor, then that’s what it
means.
I wouldn’t be lying if I said I hope she changes her mind. I bet having the
privilege of being inside her would be one of the best gifts I would ever
receive. I’m pulled to her. I already crave her. She maddens me and humors
me, tempts me, and tests me, all in a short period of time.
If she can do that now, what could she do to me in a day? A month, a
year?
I want to find out.
“I’m not playing this game with you.” She stabs her fingers into my
wounded shoulder, and I grunt. “You’re an ass. You’re using your power to
get what you want. You only want a hole to warm your dick and I’m not
going to be that for you. You’re twisting my horrible situation into
something that will only be for your gain.”
I growl as the pain pulses down my arm. “Let me make something crystal
clear,” I begin. “I can have a hole, as you so crudely call it. I don’t want any
woman. I want you. I want to help you. You’re in a position that needs help,
powerful help. I’m a man in the highest of places. You can’t get better
protection than me. Of course, I want something out of it. It’s called a
business deal, not a late-night booty call. If I wanted to fuck, I would fuck,
but shockingly, I’m not the kind of man to stick it in every passing woman I
see. I want you. I’m using your position so I can have you, yes. I’m your
chance at freedom. I’m your chance for your family to be safe. I’m your
chance for so many other things. Do you want to take that chance, or do you
want to do this on your own? You do not have much time, Rosie. It won’t
be long before Bianchi finds out who you are.”
I watch her hand under the desk she’s leaning against, moving until it
finds what she is looking for. I hear the click of a button and rub a hand
over my mouth, trying to hide my smile.
She’s smart.
“You can press that button all you want, Tesoro. No one is going to come
and help you. My men disabled your security before we came into the
building. The only person who can help you right now is yourself.”
The muscle in her jaw flexes and she glances away from me, her fingers
curling around the edge of the counter.
“Well, you’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
I grin wolfishly, wanting to make her feel like she’s been caught as prey.
“I have. When the contract is up, you’re free to go. You’ll have your
freedom. Your family will be safe. You’ll have money. And you won’t be a
criminal - a murderer yes, but not a criminal.”
She charges forward and her nostrils flare. “Fuck. You.”
“You said you wouldn’t,” I sigh, letting the words go on longer than
needed.
She’s pissed. Those bright blue eyes burn as the color of the hottest point
of flame. “I don’t like to feel trapped and that’s exactly what you’re doing.”
“Is it? How? I’m giving you an amazing deal.” I sound offended and in
part, I am. I’d never trap anyone. This is a business deal. We both get
something out of this. I make my family happy, my blood lives on and all
that shit, and she isn’t in jail. It’s a win-win situation.
“You’re forcing me—”
I crowd her space, gripping her by the back of the head by her neck so
she can’t move away from me. She tries to pull away, but she can’t.
“Now you’re trapped,” I growl, bending down while I tilt her head back.
“Make no mistake, Rosie. If I wanted you locked in a basement with no
way out, I would. That is being trapped. You are making an agreement. An
agreement that comes to an end. Don’t forget that.” I push her against the
counter, my pelvis aligned with hers. Rosie’s hands push against my chest,
but my strength overpowers hers. “And let me make one thing very fucking
clear, I am not forcing you to do anything. I am giving you the options you
already know about. You know you’re fucked, and without me, you’ll be as
good as dead along with the rest of your family. I do not force anyone to go
into business with me. If you want to take the chance on your own out
there, by all means, go. My offer is only happening once. One time. That’s
it. If you say no, I’m walking out that door and every opportunity I gave
you will be gone. If I were you, I’d start thinking smarter and stop being so
stubborn. You were messy last night. You put yourself in this situation, but I
wouldn’t give you up to the damn law, no,” I chuckle, squeezing her neck
just as I curl my lip, capturing her eyes with mine. “I’d let Bianchi hunt you
down. That’s worse than any punishment the law could give you.” I let her
go, but my arms move only to cage her in.
My hands fall on hers where she’s gripping the counter. Mine engulf
hers, reminding me that while her body might be small and delicate, fragile
even, her intelligence, attitude, and spite are far from any of those things.
She’s strong and she loves a good fight.
I respect that.
“And after the child? You expect me to give him or her up and walk
away as if I don’t love my own flesh and blood?” Her voice breaks at the
thought, her eyes glistening with tears. “I can’t do that.”
“I would never expect you to.” I cup her cheek. “That is something we
can work out if you choose not to stay.”
She snorts. “I’m not staying longer than I have to with you, Mr.
Milazzo.”
“Yes, well, we will see about that, won’t we?”
“I don’t know,” she says, ripping her hands from underneath mine to rub
her temples. “Can I have time to think about it? How do you expect me to
make this kind of decision so fast? You’re asking me to give a year of my
life to play wife and give you a child. You are asking me to give up my
body. I’ll change. Pregnancy isn’t easy, you know. Not that I’ve ever
experienced it, but I’ve seen it.”
My eyes soften, knowing her concern is valid. Pregnancy isn’t easy. I
saw what growing a life does to a woman’s body thanks to Carmine’s wife.
Her hips were wider, she gained weight, her ankles were swollen, and she
was very moody, especially when she saw the stretch marks appearing
when she was pregnant for the second time.
“I know, which is why anything and everything you’ll need will be
covered financially. You won’t have to worry about medical bills. I’ll get
you the best of everything.” My eyes roam down her body and I don’t hide
the attraction I feel for her. “I bet you’ll look even more stunning pregnant.”
Her cheeks redden and she turns away from me. I press two fingers to her
jaw and force her to look at me. “I’m not a man who is disgusted by a
pregnant woman. I love what the woman’s body goes through to make a
life. I know it isn’t easy, but I doubt having a child of your own would have
your beauty diminish.”
“You’re only trying to sweet talk me,” she whispers.
“Maybe I am,” I say with a slight tilt of my head. “Or maybe I’m telling
the truth.”
“Can I have time to think about this?” Her throat bobs when she gulps
then her hands push gently against my chest. “And can you take a step away
from me? I can’t think when you’re so close.”
“Does my nearness bother you, Tesoro?”
If any look in the world would say I’m stupid, it’s the one she’s giving
me now. Her chin is tilted down, eyes peering up through her lashes, and
she appears to be done with me.
“Don’t be an idiot. You know you’re attractive and you’re using it to
your advantage in hopes I say yes. I might not like you and I definitely am
not going to have sex with you, but I will say I recognize a good-looking
guy. You’re okay. Not my type, but a solid seven.”
My brows raise and my twin brother chuckles as he stands by the
window, so does Gianni.
“Is that so? A seven?”
“Any more than that would inflate your ego and I doubt you need that,”
she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Since you think a woman is just
going to sign away her life to you without a second thought, it deserves you
to get knocked down a peg or two.”
A surprised laugh escapes me. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like
her. “Well, you’ll have to excuse me for giving you options. Unfortunately,
you don’t have much time to think about it.”
“Can I have the night?” she grits through her teeth, feral like a wolf.
“You want to risk a night?” I know for a fact Bianchi will find her
quicker than she thinks. Honestly, I’m shocked he hasn’t already.
“I don’t think Bianchi will find me, but I need to think this over. You’re
asking me to change my entire life.”
“Rosie, your entire life changed the moment you stepped inside that club
last night. Your entire life changed when your brother stole from Bianchi.
Nothing will be the same after this. It’s up to you to decide how you want to
adapt to this situation. Waiting around could get you killed, or you are with
me, and I can protect you and your family.”
“What kind of power do you have that Bianchi doesn’t? Who says I’m
safer with you than on my own? Aren’t you both the same?”
“No,” I clip, yet sounding confident. “First, don’t ever compare me to
that man. Milazzos are much classier, and we do our best to balance the law.
We don’t hurt women either. We don’t sell them as if they are cattle.”
She gasps in horror. “They do that, and you haven’t done anything?”
“Doing something takes more time than you think. Milazzos run this city
and always have, Tesoro. We have power in very high places while Bianchi
has power in very low places. Take your pick.” I spread my arms out.
“Right. Take a chance on one devil or the other,” she murmurs.
My phone buzzes and it’s an update by one of my men following her
brother. I turn my phone around and show her my screen. “This is the kind
of man I am. See that? That’s your brother. I have one of my best marksmen
following him. I could kill him. Right here and now. My world will spin to
go on another day but yours won’t. That’s how easy it is for a man like me
to ruin your life, but I won’t because I’m not Bianchi; but if I can find you
and your brother, so can he. You have ten minutes to decide or I’m going to
walk out those doors, kill your brother, and deliver his body to Bianchi. I’ll
have an alliance for life if I do that.”
“It wouldn’t mean shit without the stone,” she seethes, big wells of tears
threatening to spill over her eyes. “And I won’t give it to you.”
“You mean, that stone?” I point to Gianni, and she turns around quickly,
the round curve of her ass pressing against my groin. I bend down while she
begins to breathe heavily and whisper, “You see, while you were fighting
with me, Gianni slipped in the back, found the same purse you used last
night, and plucked it right out. You should be smarter, Tesoro. You should
have hidden the stone.”
She spins around. “Give the stone back.”
“I don’t think so,” I pout as if it bothers me not to give in and help her.
“But I will once you decide.”
“You aren’t making your case any better by going through my things.
You don’t respect privacy.”
“No, I don’t. Not when your life is hanging in my hands. And you can
fight that all you like, but you know the truth. I bet you couldn’t sleep last
night because of the things you have done, what your brother did, and
trying to figure out your life from here on out.” I brush my thumb under her
eye where the dark circles shadow her face. “I slept like a fucking baby.
You and your issues weren’t on my mind at all.” That’s not true. I thought
of her eyes, lips, and that body squeezed into the tight dress. I fucked my
fist until my orgasm sent me to sleep. “That’s the difference between us,
Rosie. I’m a man capable of sleeping without regrets while you’re someone
who falls asleep with them.”
“I don’t fall asleep with regrets. You’re wrong,” she says proudly, the
determination in her eyes is almost strong enough to hide the sweet little lie.
“No? You mean you don’t stay awake at night, going over every single
step you made throughout the day, wondering how and why you missed
your opportunity to make your dreams come true? There’s Rosie, taking
care of everyone, all the time, and no one is taking care of her. Mom and
Dad do nothing but sit on their ass while you bust yours. You think about
how much you hate them. You love them, but you don’t like them. You
can’t stand how lazy they have become. You can’t stand that they don’t take
care of your brother. Oh your sweet little brother, trying so hard to help you,
but can’t seem to make the right decisions. You regret not standing up for
yourself sooner. You regret not getting out of this fucking store that barely
makes a dollar. You regret every choice you have ever made to lead you to
this moment.”
Her bottom lip trembles as puddles swim in her eyes, but her jaw is set,
and anger ignites that stubborn soul. Before I can move away from her, her
palm meets my cheek, and my skin begins to burn.
“Fuck you for thinking you’re so much better than me. Fuck you for
looking into my life without permission. And fuck you for thinking you
know me well enough to conclude that I regret my family. I love them.”
I rub the side of my face and hold up my hand to stop Matias from killing
the sweet girl. “It’s fine, Matias. She’s only protecting herself.”
A tear drips onto her cheek but her resolve and strength don’t change.
“How dare you find out information about my family. You had no right to
invade my personal life. I don’t know you and maybe some of the things
you found out are true, but it doesn’t change anything for me. I know my
place in life and this is it.”
I growl in disagreement, invading her personal space again, not caring
how much she hates it. “That’s where you’re wrong. You deserve so much
more than the life you have settled for, and I can be the reason it changes.
I’ll even give you the stone again. You can have it. I’ll make it part of the
agreement.”
She lifts a brow. “I can keep it?”
“I don’t need the money. You do. And if it makes you feel safer knowing
it is in your possession, then it is yours and I won’t tell Bianchi you have it.
I’m a man of my word, Rosie. I wouldn’t be who I am if I didn’t.”
“Okay,” she drawls out, still sounding unsure. She exhales, running her
fingers through her curls.
God, I want to touch them. They look so soft and wild. I want to mess
them up only to watch them spring into place.
“And my family would be safe?”
“The safest,” I promise, heart thundering at the thought of her accepting
my offer.
“And if I give you a child, you won’t keep him or her from me?”
I rear back, offended. “I’d never keep a mother from her child. Ever.” I
lift her chin, so she meets my eyes, and her exhaustion is so loud through
her defeated stare, I feel it in my bones. She wants to give in, but her morals
still have a tight grip on her decision-making.
Bianchi isn’t as smart as me and he doesn’t use resources like I do,
doesn’t have them like I have, but if I was able to find Rosie, it is only a
matter of time before he does.
“And let me make something very clear, Tesoro.” I grip the slight curve
of her chin harder, and she jerks her head back, so with my free hand, I
wrap it around the back of her neck to keep her still. “Hit me again,” my
nostrils flare at the thought and my cock threatens to rise “And I will bend
you over my lap and spank your ass until you can’t sit for a week.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me,” my voice deepens on a threatening rasp.
“I think I hate you more than I hate the situation my family’s in.”
“I’ll live.”
It doesn’t mean I have to like her hating me, though.
Chapter Seven
Rosie
I don’t know how I ended up getting involved with not one mafia boss, but
two. Either way, I’m screwed. I’m either dead or sign away my body to a
man I don’t even know. A man who took it upon himself to learn everything
there is to know about me. I hate it. I hate him and what I hate even more is
how my body reacts to him.
The traitorous little bitch.
The man might be an annoying, power-hungry, arrogant ass, but I’d be
stupid if I didn’t admit he was the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.
His sex appeal isn’t enough to make me like him though.
“So you need me to be your wife and you need me to give you a child?
I’m not trying to change the subject and I know you’ve told me, but can’t
you find someone else? I don’t understand this.”
“It’s a family requirement in my position. My brother stepped down and I
took over, meaning I need to have an heir. It looks good when a man in my
position has a family. More respect is gained in the community,” he
responds, finally walking away from me and around the store. “You know,
this has a lot of potential. With the right remodeling, marketing, online
networking, and new merchandise, you could be successful.”
He's trying to change the subject.
“So, a whole new store, you mean?”
“The idea would be kept the same, but this store is old and needs to be
modernized.”
I roll my eyes and decide to ignore him. What does he know about
business when all he does is threaten people for a living? “So you need a
wife and kid to look good? That’s what you’re saying.”
“Yes,” he nods his head, not liking my terminology. “I guess that’s the
easiest and most crass way to put it.”
“Then go out and pick someone more amenable to all your stupid
demands.” I punch a few buttons on the register and the drawer dings as it
opens. It’s an old register, the kind that looks more like a typewriter. It’s
vintage and I love it, but it only takes cash, and I can’t afford to get a card
reader. When I look into the drawer, my stomach turns when I see a fivedollar bill, a twenty, and a couple of quarters.
“I don’t want someone who bows to my every command.”
The words have me looking up from the pathetic register and I slam it
shut, forgetting about counting down for the day. It’s pointless to do.
There isn’t enough to bother.
“Really? I find that shocking,” I grumble, my entire being all too aware
of how hungry Mr. Milazzo looks, eyeing me up and down.
“I am full of surprises,” he answers, his hand falling to his cheek again,
and a sly, barely there smirk tilts his lips as if he remembers when I slapped
him.
My palm still burns from it. I put a lot of my weight into that slap. I
wanted it to hurt and what ticked me off the most was how his head hardly
moved when I hit him.
“I know I should say yes,” I finally answer, placing my elbows on the
counter, I let my face fall in my hands. I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m not
stupid. I know what you’re offering is a chance, one I don’t have, but it
doesn’t make it easier. I could take the gem and run, take my family with
me, and we could start over.”
“You could.”
“That sounds like you think my plan won’t work.”
“You don’t have the resources to successfully hide yourselves. I do. It
wouldn’t be long before you’re taken or dead. I can offer more.” He steps
forward, right in front of the counter, and I look up, hating how he seems
like a savior.
I never understood the devil in disguise comment until now.
He is sin wrapped in a package promising amazing, undeniable things.
Isn’t that what sin is?
Emotions that make you feel good only for regret to follow?
“I can erase them off the planet. I can make it seem like they were never
born. I can give them fake identities. They will never be able to be traced.
They will be well taken care of and have the life you have been working so
hard to give them. You won’t be able to be in contact with them. For safety.
Eventually, when Bianchi is taken care of, but until then, you’ll have to cut
ties.”
The whoosh of breath that escapes me reminds me of being hit in the
stomach. I shut my eyes and try to reel in my emotions. They have been all
over the place lately. I’ve been under so much stress, I’ve been so tired,
crying these days comes easily, and now this.
“Even if my brother is the one that started all this, he’ll be safe, right? I
don’t want any of this to fall on him.”
“It won’t. I can promise that. He didn’t kill someone.”
My stomach rolls at the harsh reminder, but Mr. Milazzo said it so easily
as if this kill was nothing, meant nothing, is nothing.
“So my choices are jail, death, or being an incubator for you,” I snort at
the ridiculous thought and that’s when hysteria hits. I can’t stop laughing.
“Of course,” I slap my hand on the counter to try and catch my breath but
the more I try the harder my stomach cramps with laughter. “I mean, why
not?” tears drip from my eyes and my lungs burn because I can’t seem to
catch my breath. “My fate would be held hostage by a fucking Milazzo, and
if not you, Bianchi. The chances.” I tilt my head back and laugh so hard, so
loud, somewhere in the back of my mind, through the thick of the fog
blocking out reality is my voice of reason.
I know how ridiculous I sound right now.
“Is she okay?” the guy who looks like Mr. Milazzo asks, stepping next to
his brother.
I assume they are brothers. They look identical.
“She’s working through her feelings.”
“Oh, fuck you.” I wipe under my eyes and still chuckle. “What the hell
do you know about my feelings? You’re taking over my life and leaving me
no options. My feelings are mine alone and you might be able to control
me, but you won’t be able to control how I feel.”
“I never plan on controlling you.” His brows dip in confusion. “It’s as
simple as you saying no, and I walk out that door. You’ll never see me
again.”
I give him my back and bury my face in my hands, shoulders shaking
when I know the choice I need to make. I have to hand myself over to him,
because without him, I’m dead and so is my family. It doesn’t mean I have
to like it. I think I’m so upset because so many of the things he said were
right.
I do regret a lot of things and I know if I don’t take him up on his offer,
I’ll regret saying no to him. I regret not doing more for myself and now,
because I didn’t, my choices have led me here. He’s right and I only hate
him so much more for it.
I feel him in front of me, the warmth radiating from his body, the
expensive cologne that reminds me of spicy citrus invades my nose, and
then there are the calloused fingertips ghosting over my cheeks to wipe my
tears.
No one has ever been that gentle with me. No one has ever wanted to
touch me like that, and I have never wanted them to.
“I’m a businessman and while I am offering you a deal, it doesn’t mean I
will treat you as such. I’ll treat you well, Tesoro. I promise. I am not always
a kind man, but I will be kind to you.”
“Yeah? How many more business deals do you have like me? I bet you
say that to all the women you keep around.”
“I don’t keep women. I have no other deals. I am not that kind of man.”
I step away from him, needing to get away from his demanding presence.
It would be easier to sink into his arms and press my cheek against the
strength of his chest. He is a protector, and it would be so easy for me to
give in and let him shield me from all the horrible things life offers.
I’ve never been the kind of woman to depend on anyone, so depending
on him is something that goes against every fiber of my being.
“What about the store? I’m assuming since my family will be under lock
and key, so will I?”
“Your store is taken care of,” he says, picking up a dish that needs to be
dusted, then he wrinkles his nose.
I blush at the filth. I’ve been meaning to clean more. That dish has been
there for years. No one has bought it and it’s easy to forget that everything
in this store needs to be cleaned besides the floors.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, your bills are caught up, medical bills are paid, your rent is paid,
and your landlord knows you won’t be renewing your lease. All bills are
taken care of.”
I have to catch myself on the counter in relief, shock, a bit of anger
because I couldn’t do it myself, jealousy, but mostly relief.
“And if I say no? You take all of that back, right?”
He shakes his head. “No. Consider it your true opportunity to start over,
but you and I both know you won’t get far with your family beside you.
They are parasites sucking your energy dry; you and I know both know it.”
“Don’t talk about them like that. You don’t even know them. You have
no idea what we have had to deal with, what we have gone through, and
why we have ended up here. We weren’t born with money in our pockets
like some people,” I spit the words at him, hoping he’d be insulted, but he
isn’t.
He’s cool, calm, and collected. “And I realize how lucky I am, but that
does not mean I haven’t had hardships.”
“Hardships that could have been taken care of with money.”
He hums, obviously in disagreement. “I’m going to give you a few more
minutes to make up your mind. Then, I’m going to leave.”
“And the gem?” I ask again, wanting reassurance.
“What of it?” he huffs in annoyance. “I told you to fucking keep it. I
don’t give a shit about the stone. Sleep with it at night for all I care. I’m
sick of hearing about this gem.”
I stomp up to him and point my finger in his face. “Do not cuss at me.
I’m allowed to ask questions and be confused and ask for reassurance. I’m
allowed to repeat myself. I’m allowed to be freaking the hell out. You will
not cuss at me.” I poke him in the chest.
He grips my wrist, tugging me close, and I thump against his chest.
“Follow your own rule. I don’t want to hear another curse word from your
mouth directed at me.”
“You deserve it,” I grumble. “Marching in here, taking over my life.”
“Saving your life,” he corrects me. “Saving it.”
“I’m not giving up the stone. Ever. Consider it a safety net.”
“You won’t need one. I’m your safety net.”
I swallow nerves, my entire body waking up to his nearness. The longer I
stay in front of him, the more sexual tension builds. There’s chemistry here,
a lot of it, and the way his eyes fall to my lips tell me if I don’t push him
away now, I’ll do something stupid, like kiss him.
I have enough regrets added to my plate. I don’t need any more.
“Fine,” I relent, yanking my wrist from his hold. “Fine,” I repeat, giving
into the only real option I have if I care about my life and my family.
An evil smile twists his lips. “Good girl, Tesoro. You’ve made the right
choice.”
Then why do I feel like I’ve made the wrong one?
Who am I kidding? All the options I had were wrong.
Chapter Eight
Ari
I know she wants to keep the gem, that stupid fucking rock. I know the
reason why she wants to hold onto it. It is worth a lot of money, and while
she thinks that is what is keeping her safe, she’s wrong. It will be me
protecting her. She’ll learn over time. She’ll see.
“Okay, well, I need to finish working for the day. Can we pick this up
later? I’ll sign whatever documents you want, but I need to open the store
again.”
I toss my head back and laugh, turning to look at Gianni, then Matias,
and they begin laughing too. “You’re done here, Tesoro.”
“What?” her eyes widen.
“You’re done.” I lean over the counter and grab her by her arms,
dragging her up and across.
“What are you talking about? Let go of me!” she fights, trying to pull out
of my grasp and I tighten my hold on her, so she stops squirming. “I’m not
going anywhere with you. I’ll drive myself.”
Matias opens the door and before we go out, I slam her against the closed
side. “You aren’t ever to be out of my sight. You are mine now.”
“I am far from yours,” she seethes just as my nose touches hers.
My fingers drift down her side, sparks of electricity tickling the pads of
them. “You’re mine in all the ways that matter, Tesoro. Remember, you’re
mine for a year.”
“It doesn’t mean I do what you say.”
“Mmm, no, but it does mean I get to have fun getting you to try. You
won’t be coming back here for a while.”
“I need to tell my family.”
“I’ll take care of that,” I state, pushing her out the door. “Don’t fight me.
Do not cause a scene. Do not draw attention. For all we know, Bianchi is
watching and the less guilty you look, the better.”
“I’m not guilty,” she weakly argues.
Matias opens the back door of the luxury black vehicle and when she
dips her head down, I grip her by the back of the neck, spin her around, and
pin her against the car.
“Ari, we have to go,” Matias warns me.
“I’ll get in the driver’s seat,” Gianni states, and Matias watches over us.
“Sorry Matias, I need to have a word with my fiancé,” I grit, falling
deeper into those blue eyes she spits fire with.
“I am not your fiancé.”
“Must you argue about everything? Do you always have to fight? Do you
always have to have the last word? Because you are my fiancé.”
“I’m not your fiancé until I sign the dotted line, you overgrown, money
hungry…”
I raise my brows, daring her to say the vile words on the tip of that pretty
tongue. “You were saying?”
“Just a few beeps here and there,” she says bitterly.
She was about to cuss me out.
“We need to work on that mouth of yours. It’s so filthy.” I push her down
and she falls into the car, landing in the back seat. Her face is level with my
cock and when she looks up at me, those long lashes touching her brows
and her eyes full of hate, my cock aches with want. “You look good down
there,” I tease her, wanting to rile her up again because why the hell not?
She’s sexy when she’s mad.
She rolls her eyes but then they land on my cock. “In your dreams, Mafia
Man. You’ll take me to a clinic, come in a cup, and that is how I’ll get
pregnant.”
“We’ll see about that.” I knew I wasn’t going to come in a damn cup.
We’d make a baby the old-fashioned way. I’m a patient man and there’s no
way in hell I’ll going to miss having sex with my wife. I’m a possessive
asshole and even though this is a business deal, I’m going to treat her as if
this is real.
“We won’t see shit,” she grumbles, then gasps when she realizes her
mistake.
I slip into the car and Matias shuts the door. “What was that?”
“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.” She crosses her arms in a huff. “But if I
did say something—”
“—Here we go,” I say under my breath, my head throbbing from her
constant need to argue and have the last word. I said it low enough so she
couldn’t hear me.
“—If I did say something, I would have said, ‘We won’t see shit.’ But
that’s if I said something, which I didn’t.”
I can’t help but smile at her. I tilt my head back and chuckle. “And if you
did say something, but you didn’t, I’d bend you over my lap right now, but
since you didn’t say anything—”
“—I didn’t,” she lies.
“Then that won’t be happening.” I curl my fingers through hers to hold
her hand.
She tries to yank it away, trying to shake me off like I’m a bug. “What
are you doing?”
“I’m holding your hand. My love language is physical touch. Expect a lot
of it.”
“I don’t speak your language.” She drops my hand. “And how do you
know your love language?”
“Shut up and take my hand.” I snag her again, locking our fingers
together, then tilt my head back against the seat.
She tries to shake my hand again, but I hold on tight, and eventually, she
relents, exhaling with annoyance.
“Freaking unbelievable,” she mutters, but the hold she has on me loosens
as she relaxes.
I’ve never told anyone how much I love to touch. I crave it and that’s
probably because my entire life I have gone without it. I don’t go around
and advertise how much I love physical connection. It will make me look
weak and I know I’m not. I’m far from a weak man, but sitting here,
holding the hand of a woman who hates me, it’s nice.
She won’t hate me forever. I’m impossible not to like me after you get to
know me. I do what I need to but once I’m at home and I’m able to take the
mask off, I’m a different man.
I’m not the villain she paints me to be.
“Rilo is there waiting for you with the contract,” Matias interrupts the
silence.
“Okay, thank you, brother,” I say, not opening my eyes until we get to the
compound.
“Wow, that was fast.”
I squeeze Rosie’s hand. “I am not the kind of man that wastes time. A
deal is a deal. The sooner you’re protected by me, the better. It means we
can get your family to safety.”
“You’re right.”
That has my eyes snapping open. I turn to her, my mouth parted in shock.
“I’m sorry? Can you repeat that? Are you not going to argue with me?”
She rolls her eyes. “Not on your life am I repeating that.”
If I’m not mistaken, a hint of a smile plays on her lips.
“I’m starting to think you’re not as serious as you seem,” she says,
eyeing me as if she’s trying to figure me out.
“I’m one of those mafia guys who has a sense of humor. We’re rare.”
“Aw, you think you’re funny. That’s kind of cute.”
I want to lean in and kiss her mouth, silence her sass, and drink it in,
swallow it, let it run through my veins so it can give me a buzz just like
whiskey would.
I doubt my kiss would be welcome. She’s simply tolerating me right now.
“I’m hilarious,” I defend.
“No, he isn’t,” Matias drones in a monotone voice, bored as he looks at
his phone.
“Don’t listen to him. I make him laugh. Don’t let his handsome face fool
you.”
“You only think he has a handsome face because it’s your face.”
“He has my face,” Matias argues.
“Oh my god, I’m already wanting to jump out of this car and make a run
for it. I’ll take my chances on my own, just get me out of here.” She bangs
her head against the glass of the car and Matias sends me a wink.
When the car pulls in front of the gate, I watch Rosie for her reaction.
Her brows raise and she lets go of my hand, dipping her head so she can
look out the front windshield.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you had money.”
Gianni smothers a laugh with a cough from the driver’s seat.
“I like to joke, but I don’t joke about that,” I state firmly.
The iron gates swing open, and we pull forward, parking in front of the
steps.
A few of my men are outside waiting for us to return and I step out first,
not wanting Gianni to open the door for us.
It’s important for me to show my men I’m serious about Rosie. The more
I treat her with respect, the more they will. If I treat her as if she’s nothing
to me, they will as well, and she doesn’t deserve that. If I’m honest, I don’t
think I could treat her like that anyway. Something burns for her inside me,
something I haven’t felt for anyone.
I hold out my hand to help her out of the car and she gives me a look of
defiance. I slide my eyes to the left and right, hoping she becomes aware of
the men around us.
She can’t deny me in front of them. Granted, I wouldn’t be surprised if
she did. She’s stubborn and I love it.
With a roll of her eyes and a pinch of her lips, she reluctantly slides her
hand into my palm. I let out a breath I was holding, waiting for her to make
up her mind, and give her a slight nod of thanks.
She climbs out of the car, wearing nothing but a plain pair of jeans and an
old t-shirt that says New England across the front. Her wild curls are all
over the place and I still want to run my fingers through them, but I feel like
that might be overstepping my bounds.
I know I have already, but this is different. Touching her like that seems
intimate, close, a place we are not at yet—if ever.
“Wow,” she awes, staring up at the large mansion. “This is beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I place my hand on her lower back and begin to walk. She
follows me and the men eye her with curiosity. “I’ll introduce you to
everyone later but everyone this is Rosie. She is to be treated with respect.
She’s to be my wife. If I find out you treated her badly, I’ll have your head.
Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Boss.”
“You got it, Mr. M.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Hey, Rosie.”
They all agree and greet her in different ways and for the first time, she
leans against me, looping her arm through mine and tugging herself close.
I don’t know why, but I love that gesture. She is using me as a safe space,
averting her eyes away from the men watching her, assessing her, and
wondering if she will make a good addition to the Milazzo family.
I do not doubt that her fire, strength, and willpower will be a force to be
reckoned with and an amazing addition to the Milazzo name.
When we step into the house, I can’t help but watch Rosie. I want to see
her reaction to her new home.
“If you don’t like anything, we can change it,” I offer for some insane
reason, but I want her to feel at home.
“Change?” she scoffs. “It’s beautiful. Oh my god, the fireplace.” She runs
to it, smiling so wide I know her cheeks have to hurt. “I’ve never had a
fireplace before.”
My smile falters a little bit, hating she hasn’t had the simple luxury of
enjoying the warmth of a fireplace. “Well, maybe at some point we can use
it.”
“It’s too warm,” she says sadly.
“Then I’ll turn down the air conditioner until it’s freezing, and we can
use the fireplace.” I don’t even think about that choice. It’s obvious. I open
the office doors and Rilo is sitting in the chair, enjoying one of my imported
cigars while drinking my whiskey.
“About time you got here,” he drowses, puffing on the cigar.
“Make yourself at home, Rilo,” I sound anything but amused.
“Did you mean it?” Rosie’s voice is soft for the first time, her hand
wrapping around mine before I can walk further into the office.
“Mean what?”
“The fireplace.”
“I did.” I shrug my blazer off and hang it on the coat rack.
“That’s really nice. Thank you,” she says.
Rilo’s voice ruins the one sincere moment between Rosie and me. “Are
you ready? I have the contract and the marriage license.” He tosses the
remainder of his cigar into his drink to put it out. “I have a meeting in an
hour elsewhere.”
He opens the folder and places the contract and the marriage license on
the table, handing me a fountain pen.
“Sign it so I can get out of here.”
“Wait,” Rosie protests. “Already? You want me to sign the marriage
license and that’s it?”
I sign the contract because Carmine had one made for his wife and I
amended it with a few extra things for Rosie last night. Then I sign the
marriage license, handing her the pen next. “What did you expect?” I ask
her. “Surely, you didn’t want a wedding, flowers, and a dress for this?” I
tease slightly, knowing she wouldn’t have wanted that with me.
She snatches the pen away from me and gives me a dirty look. “With
you? No. Like every girl I had a dream of getting married, what I wanted,
what I wanted my dress to look like, but like everything else in my life right
now, I’m not surprised that’s never going to happen.”
I don’t let my facial expression show my disappointment in myself. I’m
in front of Rilo and I have to remain passive and uncaring. I don’t like that
I’m taking yet another dream away from her. I had forgotten most women
love the traditional wedding and dream about it most of their lives.
Maybe in the future, when she doesn’t hate me so much, I’ll be able to
give her that.
“We’ll have to talk about that one day,” I say to her, wanting to give her
hope.
She shakes her head in disbelief, placing the end of the pen against her
chin while she reads over the contract out loud.
“Terms of marriage between Rosie O’Connor and Aristide Milazzo are
as follows:
- An agreement has been made between the two parties. Rosie O’Connor
has agreed to marry and have a child (the child must be conceived and born
within one year) with Aristide Milazzo to save her family’s store and protect
her from the law and rival mafia boss due to the fact she murdered a rival
mafia’s man.
- Both parties share the same bed.
- They are to raise our child together. She will be a part of this baby’s
life. A child needs a mother.”
“That’s…nice of you to add the last part, but after this contract is over,
we will get an annulment as if it never happened, and then I’ll have a real
wedding with my real husband,” she says, her voice tired and bored while
she reads.
Anger swells in my chest and my teeth clench together hard. “Rilo, will
you go wait in the kitchen?” My voice trembles with uncontained lividity.
Rosie hears and she looks up at me, taking a step away as if I’m going to
hurt her.
Never in my life would I or will I raise my hand to a woman.
“I’m going to prepare myself some food,” Rilo informs me.
“I don’t care.” I open the door for him to leave. “I need a moment alone
with my wife.”
“Not your wife yet. I’m reading every line of this contract, so I’m not
taken by surprise.”
“Good luck,” Rilo tells me as he walks out, and I can’t help but slam the
door behind him.
“Is that what you think? That this isn’t a real marriage? I’m not going to
be a real husband? I’m not going to take care of you, provide for you,
protect you?”
“You can do all those things but you’re missing the main ingredient in
making a marriage work,” she says, flipping the page of the contract. She
looks up at me, “Love, Mr. Milazzo.”
“Who says I can’t get you to fall in love with me?” I step forward,
wanting the challenge more than ever.
“This relationship has been built on ultimatums. I believe relationships
end in the way they start. If a man cheats on his wife and leaves her for
another woman, then he will cheat again, and the cycle will be neverending. This relationship started like this,” she holds up a contract. “And it
will end like this.”
“I’m going to change your mind.”
“I doubt it.” She flips the page, and my anticipation grows when I realize
she is on the last page.
She’s going to be furious.
Her cheeks redden and her blazing blue eyes fire at me from above the
contract. “What the hell is this?” Rosie grips the paper with both hands and
reads the clause I put in there last night. “Ms. O’Connor agrees to
immediately stop taking any forms of birth control the moment she signs
this contract and for the contract to be valid, the marriage must be
consummated?” Her voice rises. “You have got to be kidding me!” she
flings the pen at me and I dodge it before it hits me in the face. “You are
unbelievable. Are you really that pathetic? Surely, you can go find a woman
to scratch your itch while I wait here.”
“I don’t want any woman. I want you.” I pick up the pen and give it back
to her. “Also, continue reading. Your annulment idea won’t work,” I might
say with too much eagerness.
Her eyes narrow at me before falling back to the paper. “She will not ask
for a divorce for three years.” She clenches her jaw. “You have got to be
kidding me.”
I cross my arms, feeling victorious. “Go on,” I urge her.
She sighs in annoyance. “Rosie O’Connor’s family will be protected
financially, and Aristide Milazzo agrees to pay for everything and anything
when it comes to relocating them out of the country for their own
protection. The O’Connors, including Rosie, will never be in financial need
again.”
I notice when she gets to the bottom because her eyes soften. “Sign the
contract,” I say gently, not wanting to seem like I’m pushing her.
“Well, you’re going to be waiting around forever then and you’re going
to be very disappointed when a year is up, and you don’t have a child.”
There’s the sass that’s been waiting to come out while she’s been reading.
I love it.
She scribbles her name on the contract and then the license.
“Congratulations, Honey,” her voice drips with sarcasm. “Here’s to the
worst year of our lives.”
She tries to leave the room, but I grip her by the arm and sling her against
one of the leather chairs placed in front of the desk. “Make no mistake,
wife,” I place my hand at the bottom of her throat, my thumb sweeping back
and forth across her collarbone. “This is just like any other marriage. You
will beg for me just like I’ll beg for you. This is going to be the best year of
your life; I’ll make sure of it.” I tease her lips, not kissing her, just ghosting
mine over hers.
I want to kiss her, but I know my kiss won’t be received well. I can wait
until she’s ready. She will be. There’s more than hate between us. I feel it,
clawing at the marrow of my bones. It’s explosive, whatever it is, and the
more we ignore and try to bury it, the more the fire burns.
Sooner or later, the blaze will take over and there will be nothing left but
ash in the pathways we took to ignore each other.
She yanks out of my grasp and hurries to the door, pulling it open only
for me to get a view of Rilo making a giant sandwich.
He holds up a butterknife, watching Rosie stomp down the hallway.
“Which one is my room?” she shouts.
“The doors at the end of the hall.” My voice echoes and the door slams a
second later.
Rilo goes back to swiping the mayonnaise over the bread. “I’m going to
go out on a limb here and say she has no idea that’s your room too.”
“Nope, she doesn’t.” I sit on the stool and reach over, grabbing half of a
sandwich he has already made.
“Hey, make your own.”
“No.” I bite into it, the lettuce crunching as I chew.
“You have your hands full with her.”
“I know. Isn’t she amazing? I love it.”
He doesn’t laugh. “Why are you doing this?”
“I need an heir,” I frown, knowing he knows the rules.
“Come on, you can get an heir with any woman. Why this?”
“I have to be married too. Rilo, you know this.”
“I don’t. I don’t understand this tradition in your family you guys cling
to.” He bites into his sandwich, then wipes the mayo from the corner of his
mouth. “I’m just saying, you can’t force her and if you did, I’d kill you.”
“I’d never force her. I’d never do that.”
“You have already. You made her marry you.”
I open my mouth to defend myself, but he lifts his hand to stop me.
“Come on, you know what I mean. She had no other logical option. You
were her best bet. I’m just saying, be careful and be patient with her. Her
entire life is changed and to her, it isn’t for the better.” He checks his watch
and shoves the rest of his sandwich into his mouth. “Got to go. I’ll get those
papers filed. Have a good one.”
“You too. And thanks,” I say, chewing slowly while I think about what he
has said.
I’m left alone, wondering if I’m the man people warn others about.
Am I as bad as I never wanted to be?
Do I care?
I think about Rosie, her spite, her anger, her beauty, and the way she
makes me feel alive from the moment I looked at her, and I come to the
conclusion that maybe I am not a good man.
What’s worse?
I don’t care. I only want her, and I don’t care how I make that happen,
even if it does mean blaming it on the tradition my family has always
upheld.
Chapter Nine
Rosie
I pace the bedroom, my thoughts drifting to the window and the urge to try
to escape this hellhole may or may not have crossed my mind.
It’s all I’m thinking about. Maybe if I take the sheets off the bed, make a
rope, toss it over the balcony, and try to make a run for it.
“That’s stupid,” I say to myself, but at this point, I don’t care.
I slip the stone out from my pocket and hold it up to the light, the insides
glistening like glitter. It’s gorgeous.
My time to make a run for it has passed, even with this stupid rock. If I
left, Milazzo would find me and bring me back.
I’m trapped.
I shove my face into the mattress and scream, punching it with my fists
until I have no more air left in my lungs.
I tuck the stone under the mattress, then flop on my back, staring up at
the ceiling. I’m trying to catch my breath and my face is hot from shouting
my rage into the pillowtop, but what else am I supposed to do? The
emotions waging war on me right now are too hard to deal with, too hard to
decipher, and too difficult to understand.
I’m pissed and yet I’m thankful.
Thankful. That’s so ridiculous, but I am. He gave me options no one else
would. I’m safe. My family is safe. Even if it means I had to sign away my
soul. It doesn’t mean I can’t be angry, and it doesn’t mean I have to like
him. I don’t. I hate him. I despise him. A part of me wishes I would have
killed him when I had the chance. I wouldn’t be in this position.
If I would have killed him, there would have been no witnesses, but that
doesn’t fix the issue of my brother. My captor is right. Eventually, we
would have been found, if not me, then my brother. I can’t imagine
anything happening to him.
Like always when I cry, I press the heel of my hands against my eyes to
try and stop myself from crying. I’m feeling so overwhelmed. I want to see
Caplan and it hurts knowing I can’t. It would put him at risk. I don’t care
about my safety so much as I do his.
A knock on the door sounds and I punch the bed again. Can’t he leave
me alone? The doorknob jiggles and it’s locked.
“Rosie,” his voice drifts through the thick wood. “Open the door.”
“Not a chance. I need space from you,” I shout just as the door opens. I
prop up on my forearms and scowl at him as he enters the room. “Can’t you
give me any privacy?”
“Sure,” he nods, leaning against the doorframe. “But this is my room, so
technically, you’re invading my space.”
“That makes sense. This room is boring and masculine.” I stroll to the
door and as I brush by him, my entire body awakens. I hold in a gasp. “Just
point me in the direction my room is in.”
“Did you not read the entire contract, Tesoro?” he tugs me into the room
and closes the door, untying his tie.
“What do you think you’re doing? I’m not having sex with you right
now. Contract or not. I’ve only known you a few hours.”
“It’s my room. My bathroom. I’m taking a shower.” He begins to
unbutton his shirt and I hurry to him, grasping his hands to stop him from
undressing.
“Right, let’s go back to that. You said this was my room.”
He lifts a perfectly groomed brow, all thick and full with a shape most
women would kill for. “No,” he says slowly. “I told you the doors at the end
of the hall. Which is my room.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Do I even have a room?”
“You’re standing in it.”
The twisted, conniving smirk on his full lips pisses me off just as much
as it turns me on.
“You knew what you were doing. You son of a—”
He quirks that damn brow again and a part of me wants to shave it off, so
it isn’t a distraction.
I zip my lips, remembering our deal about cursing at one another. “You
planned this.”
“Married couples sleep in the same room, Tesoro. They share a bed.
That’s what we will be doing.”
“It isn’t enough I signed your contract, but now you’re going to make me
play the part? I thought this was a business transaction? I will go to a
different room, live a separate life from you, get pregnant whenever we
decide to go to the clinic, and then we can move on with our lives,” I
explain, suddenly tired and a pounding behind my eyes starts.
I’m defeated.
And I don’t know why I feel like I have to fight him every step of the
way. I know I shouldn’t. I understand the mess I’ve gotten myself into but
now I feel lost. I don’t like feeling that I have no control over my life right
now. Everything is spiraling.
I don’t know how to act around him. Does he want me to press his shirts,
so they are wrinkle-free? Kiss him in the mornings before he goes and
tortures a guy who does whatever men like him do for work? Does he want
me to put on an apron, cook him dinner, and ask him how his day is? This is
insanity. Surely, he doesn’t expect that.
“I know we have a lot to overcome,” he begins, grabbing my shoulders
gently as he stands in front of me. “I know this situation isn’t easy for you.”
“Isn’t easy?” I say with an exasperated breath, stepping away from him.
“It’s impossible. You want to play house. You want me to play your wife.
You want me to be this person that doesn’t exist. If you wanted a wife so
bad, if you wanted someone to share your bed, have your children, share
your hopes and, dreams, cook you dinner, or whatever the hell you want,
then that is what you should have been looking for instead of settling with
me.” I’m not angry anymore.
I’ve surpassed that. I’m to the point where I’m defeated and I’m
accepting this reality; I am, but I can’t just jump into this with a smile on
my face. I can’t.
I won’t.
I know making the best of any situation is what we are all told to do, but
I’ve never been like that. If something is bad in life, I tend to wallow in it
for a few days, needing to accept a new change, and then I come around to
the new reality.
I’m not perfect. I’m not happy-go-lucky. I don’t look at the glass half-full
because for most of my entire life, it has always been empty.
So being positive right now is hard and if I were to look at the positives
the list would consist of two things.
One, he’s so handsome. I’ve never seen anyone as gorgeous as Mr.
Milazzo is.
Two, my body wants him so bad, I ache all over, even if my mind hates
it.
“You’re right,” he says, going back to the task of unbuttoning his shirt.
My eyes fall to his chest, smooth olive skin appearing the more he
unbuttons. I can already see the definition of his pecs. He’s gorgeous.
Hatefully, so.
“But I saw an opportunity for you and for me and like the businessman I
am, I applied it. I can only hope you’ll try and get to know me and maybe
this can grow into something other than a business transaction.”
I hold my breath, wondering why he’d even want that. “But you could
have anyone? Why me? Why someone with so much baggage?”
“Why not?” he shrugs off his shirt and I have to stop myself from falling
over because no one should be allowed to look this damn good. It’s unfair.
It isn’t right.
He’s lean and muscular, but not overly so. He isn’t bulging, but has soft
lines cutting into his abs. He has the perfect body type sprinkled with dark
hair across his chest. The hair gets thinner as it trails down to a point under
his belly button, vanishing in his pants.
“I am in this,” he says, unbuckling his belt.
He isn’t…
“And since I’m in this, I’m going to try to make the best of it.”
The words are cold water pouring down on me.
“We are married. So why not give this a real shot?” he shrugs, dropping
his pants.
He isn’t wearing underwear.
My eyes lock on his cock and my clit begins to pulse, the space between
my legs aches, dying to be filled the longer I stare at his nude body.
I’ve never reacted like this with anyone. I’ve never wanted anyone like
this before which is why I’m a virgin. I never thought to ‘get it over with’
because if I’m going to be that intimate with someone, I want to want them.
And while Aristide Milazzo drives me mad, there is no denying I
wouldn’t be upset right now if he tossed me on the bed and had his way
with me.
I have to keep my wits about me though. It’s all I have going for me.
He’s semi-hard, long, and thick by the looks of it, and it rests against his
thigh as if it’s weighed down by how hefty it is. There’s a dark patch of hair
above his cock, trimmed and well-groomed. I bite my lip to hold in a moan.
He leans forward, grabbing the bedpost with one hand, towering over me.
He peers down, his finger under my chin, a place I realize he likes to touch
a lot.
“Do you like what you see, Tesoro?” His breath puffs across my cheek as
he brings his lips to my ear. “It’s all yours. You can do what you like to
me.”
My eyes fall on the small stab wound in his shoulder and there’s a hint of
guilt for throwing my knife at him, but he seems fine.
And what does that name mean? I don’t want to know, not yet. I like how
the nickname sounds, but it could mean something bad or good. I’m not
sure I’m ready to know either right now.
“Maybe I’ll stab you again,” I say weakly, my words broken with
attraction.
“You could try.” His lips brush over the shell of my ear and goosebumps
arise across my body. “I’d just have to stop you before you did.”
“How would you do that?” I lick my lips, leaning forward to be closer,
my body betraying me.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he grins, pressing a simple kiss against my
cheek.
It isn’t special. It’s innocent, something friends and family do when they
greet each other, but his lips shock me. They are soft, giving, and they
linger for a moment, and my eyes flutter shut. The closer he remains, the
more I feel his body heat, and the more I want to wrap my arms around his
neck and give into the voice that’s whispering in the back of my mind.
I can’t do it. No matter how tempting, no matter how good I know he’d
make me feel—because there’s no way a man like him wouldn’t be able to
make me feel good—and no matter that he’s the first man to ever ignite
desire inside me, we can’t happen.
A man like him can destroy a woman like me.
He’s powerful, wealthy, and elegant.
I’m tired, angry, and far from elegance in the type of woman he needs.
Honestly, I don’t know if I have the energy to be that woman. I’m okay with
giving him a child and being married for a year, but everything else that he
wants to come with it? He wants a fantasy.
I’m smart enough to know reality always overcomes fantasy. This is the
real world and I know just how harsh that world can be.
“Mr. Milazzo,” I say his name in protest—or try to—but it comes out
with little force. The warmth of his chest presses against my palm and when
I feel the soft skin, the firm muscle, the thud of his heart beating loudly,
that’s when I notice the mistake I’ve made.
I’ve touched him.
Before I can let go, he wraps his thick fingers around my wrist, holding
my hand there.
“Don’t call me that,” he says, his thumb rubbing over my knuckles. “Call
me Ari. Please,” he adds, melting my reserve a little bit more.
Calling him by his name is too intimate, but maybe I can concede on this
one thing.
“I need to go, Ari,” I tell him, tugging my hand to show him I want to
leave.
I expect him to fight me, but he doesn’t. He gently lets go of me and
steps backward, naked, gorgeous, in all his glory, and I can’t help but to
look him over again.
This time, he’s hard, fully erect, showing just how thick and long he truly
is.
No wonder the man has confidence that surpasses any universe. He has
no reason to feel anything less than magnificent with a body like that.
“I need space from you. I need air.” Sucking in a much-needed breath, I
run out of the room, but not before turning around and getting a peek of him
from the back.
Just as perfect from the back as he is from the front.
The view has me stopping in my tracks. My hand is on the door, handle
turned, and all I have to do is push it open and walk away.
Far away.
. Instead of leaving like I should, my treacherous feet carry me to the
bathroom where the door is cracked. The shower is on, and I lick my lips as
they dry, thinking about seeing him wet.
I shouldn’t. He’s a stranger, but he did blackmail me into an arranged
marriage with him, so sneaking a peek can’t be too bad so I know what I’m
getting myself into, right?
I push the door open, holding my breath in hopes it doesn’t make a
sound.
The steam rushes against my face and I poke my head around the door,
the stall of the shower open as the towel hangs between the opening wall
and where it shuts. I’m able to see the faintest hint of his body through the
heat.
His body is the kind you see in magazines, hard and defined in all the
right places.
He groans.
I shove a hand over my mouth to stop the gasp from giving away my
position. His arm is moving, and he leans his shoulder against the wall,
angling himself so he is turned toward me.
I can see everything.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, stroking himself faster.
His eyes are closed, and the size of his cock has me clench my thighs
together, knowing it would never fit while wondering what it would feel
like inside me.
“That’s it, Tesoro. Swallow every drop.”
My clit throbs from his words, knowing he can’t be talking about me. He
comes, painting the glass stall with thick ropes of come.
“Ah, yes. Tesoro. Just like that. Such a good girl.” He lazily slows his
strokes and I step back, slowly closing the door until I’m standing in front
of it.
I’m in a daze.
My entire body is on fire, awakened by the sight of him, but I won’t give
in.
No matter how badly I want to.
Chapter Ten
Ari
It’s been three days of her ignoring me. She’ll fall asleep on the couch, so
she doesn’t have to wake up in bed, but the jokes are on her. I’ve picked her
up every night and put her into bed next to me. Granted, she makes sure to
stay at the very end of the bed, so she doesn’t touch me.
Her restraint is impressive.
I do not have the same.
When she’s sleeping and the blanket exposes her shoulder, I drift my
fingers up and down her spine, hoping somehow, someway, I soothe her
dreams since I’m the nightmare she’s painted in her mind.
I’m captivated by her, if only she’d allow me to show her.
My phone begins to buzz, and I lean over, placing a kiss on my wife’s
shoulder. She nuzzles her face into the pillow, sighing, and I roll out of bed,
swiping the alarm off on my phone so I don’t wake her. My knees pop as I
stand, and I hold in a groan because that felt so damn good.
I head to the bathroom, use the restroom, wash my hands, and strip out of
my pajama pants. Rosie was insistent that I wore them to bed after I told her
I slept naked.
It’s cute getting her fired up. Her cheeks turn red, and her curls bounce as
she bobs her head left and right while she shuffles her feet because she gets
so uncomfortable.
She gets so mad at me, but I know she’s only fighting what she feels.
There is a massive connection between us, one that is powerful. When I’m
near her, I only want to get closer. It’s lust, it’s desire, and it’s addictive. I
want more of it.
But I’ll have to be patient while she works out her feelings. I’m a patient
man. I have all the time in the world and so does she. She’s out of her mind
if she thinks I’m letting her get away after a year.
I peek my head from the bathroom to the bedroom, checking on Rosie to
make sure she’s there and is okay. She’s on her other side now and her arm
is stretched across my side.
What if she was reaching for me?
In her sleep would be the only time the Tesoro would touch me.
I back away and reach into the shower stall, flipping the water on. I wait
until it’s hot and then step in, rolling my head over my shoulders. I know
she watched me last night. I felt the cool air from the bedroom enter the
bathroom, so I closed my eyes and angled my body so she could see me. I
wanted to put on a show. I wanted her to see what is hers.
Maybe if I’m lucky, she’ll come in here again and instead of watching,
she’ll join me.
I hang my head, leaning forward and catching myself on the wall, and let
the water run over my back.
Is this how Carmine felt constantly when it came to his wife? Out of
control and on edge?
Christ, it’s hard to fucking think when I ache for her. I want to lie Rosie
down and adorn her body with kisses, finding the spots that make her gasp
and her back arch. I want to make her so wet that she begs me to slide deep
inside her, reaching depths like no other man has been able to. I’ll show her
pleasure beyond what any man has failed to do for her.
“Fuck,” I curse, staring down at my cock.
I’m so hard, the ache in my shaft tells me it wouldn’t take long for me to
come. “Damn it, Tesoro. It should be you getting on your knees and sucking
down my cock,” I whisper under the hot spray of water, wrapping my hand
around the base, I give it a good tug, and squeeze it a bit too hard until I feel
a bite of pain.
I groan, pressing my forehead against the slick tile walls, fisting my free
hand above my head. I lightly bang on the wall, my knees buckling as I
stroke myself faster. I bury my face in my arm, the hot breath heating my
skin as it leaves me in heavy huffs. My cock has always been sensitive
when it comes to sex.
But what’s great is that I can come, then come again, and again.
I can keep going without flagging, which I’m thankful for or my
sensitivity would be a weakness.
I trace the crown, my entire body trembling from how fucking good it
feels.
“Fuck,” I curse again. “Oh, fuckkk,” I groan, tilting my head back as I
think about Rosie taking me into her mouth, her tongue teasing me and
bringing me to the edge. I bet she’d like that, the little troublemaker. I bet
she’d love teasing me until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Rosie,” I growl her name in warning as if she’s done something wrong
as I paint the walls with my come, my orgasm going on and on.
I’m finally able to gasp for breath, shaking my head at how intense that
was. I’ve never come that hard at the thought of someone. I don’t usually
think about anything when I masturbate. It’s all about getting to the orgasm,
but Rosie lights a fire under my skin and her rebellion swims through my
veins.
It feeds me. The longer the back and forth between us goes, the more I
hunger for it.
The more I crave it.
I wash away the evidence of wishing I could feel my wife’s mouth
around my cock, then clean myself like I should have done when I got in
here, but I got distracted.
When I’m done, I dry off, wrapping the towel around my waist, then
brush my teeth.
I expect to see Rosie in bed still, but much to my disappointment, my
Tesoro isn’t there. I hear pans clanking from down the hall and realize she’s
in the kitchen. I get dressed, grabbing a pair of black slacks and a black
long-sleeve shirt, using cuff links for the sleeves. Opening up the drawer, I
snag a pair of black socks and sit on the bed, not thinking about anything
other than wanting to see Rosie.
She’s quickly becoming an obsession.
I’m fascinated by her.
I slide my foot through one sock, only for my toes to show at the end.
“What the fuck?” I mutter in confusion, lifting the other one in the air to see
the ends have been cut. I chuckle, tossing the sock on the ground and
opening the drawer up again to see all my damn socks have been violated
with scissors.
The ends are gone from all of them.
Who does this? It’s another level of payback, honestly.
Again, I’ll play her game because I think her way of revenge is smart and
clever, and honestly, she’s working through her feelings. I know this isn’t an
easy position she’s in and I’m willing to wait until she realizes I’m not a
threat to her.
For the hell of it, I slip my socks on, grumbling as I wiggle my toes on
the floor, scoffing at how ridiculous I must look.
I don’t care. I want her to see that her attempts to anger me won’t work. I
actually hope this little situation lasts throughout our relationship. It’s fun
and it’s been a long time since I’ve had it.
Heading down the hall, the pads of my feet stick to the floor slightly and
I can feel how cold the tile is. When I reach the kitchen, Gianni is there
with Matias, both of them eating scrambled eggs and toast, bacon, cut-up
fruit.
Rosie is at the stove and cracks a few more eggs into a bowl, throws in
seasoning, and begins to whisk.
She’s making herself right at home.
I love it.
“She makes amazing scrambled eggs,” Matias says around a mouthful of
food. “And the bacon is so crispy. It’s perfect.”
Rosie shoots a pleased smile his way. “Thanks, Matias.”
I want her smile directed at me.
Matias looks at me, the big grin dropping from his face when I give him
an expression that could kill him.
“You’re welcome,” he mumbles under his breath, staring at his plate.
“You know, something happened to my socks,” I begin, inching my way
to her, but she doesn’t take notice. She continues to cook as if I don’t exist.
Leaning against the counter, I cross one ankle over the other, then do the
same with my arms. “Any idea how that could have happened?” I point to
my feet, and she finally looks down.
The smallest twitch of her lips gives her guilt away, but if someone
weren’t paying attention, they wouldn’t have seen it.
“I have no idea. I don’t know how that could have happened,” she
shrugs, making two more plates of food without breaking character.
“Is that so?”
She begins to cut more fruit, placing them in a separate bowl. “That’s
so.” She dries her hands off on a towel.
Gianni and Matias both lean sideways to get a glimpse of my feet and
Gianni laughs so hard, he spews coffee.
“I’m sorry,” he laughs. “I’ll clean it up. That’s hilarious. That’s amazing.
Bravo, Rosie.”
Rosie pours two coffees and two glasses of orange juice. “I have no idea
what you’re talking about,” she states in a way that she knows exactly what
we’re talking about.
“Right, of course.” Gianni is still chuckling after he cleans his mess off
the floor. He and my twin brother share an amused look.
“So you didn’t cut my socks?”
“Nope.” She doesn’t look at me though; she decides to fuss with the
bacon next, placing a few pieces on the plates.
I lean down, her hair tickling my nose. “I like your hair like this. All
messy and untamed.” She has it up in a ponytail and those spiral curls are
everywhere. I love it.
She finally pauses and turns to me. “Thank you.” Her eyes lock onto
mine and her cheeks are flushed from the heat of the stove.
I can’t resist. I cup her cheek, brushing my thumb along the hot flesh,
then bend down to whisper in her ear. “You know this means payback,
right?” I slide my hand across her cheek. “You’ve started a game you won’t
be able to win.”
“I’ll guess we will have to see who the last one standing is, won’t we?”
She slides a plate to me, then sets the coffee and orange juice on either side.
“Here. Breakfast.”
I blink at the food, almost not believing her. There’s no way she made me
breakfast. “You made me breakfast?”
“Doesn’t my husband,” she flicks the napkin so hard it pops after she
says the word, “need breakfast?” Rosie sits down at the barstool, stabbing
her eggs with the fork.
I nod my head to Gianni and Matias, telling them silently to leave. They
both nod, taking their plates and coffee with them.
“Thank you, Rosie. It looks delicious.”
“I was cooking. It isn’t a big deal.”
It’s a big deal to me. It means she has warmed up to me, not a lot, but
enough to think of me to make me a plate.
I call it progress even if progress means clipping the ends of my socks.
I want to take the seat next to her, but I opt to give her space instead and
we eat in silence. It isn’t awkward, but I know she’s choosing to stay quiet.
The eggs are fluffy and have an amazing flavor. Matias was right.
I peek up at Rosie every few bites and when I do, she looks away from
me. I smile to myself, liking that she at least wants to look at me.
I feel like a teenager again, hoping to get a girl’s attention, and it’s been
so long since I’ve felt like that, I’m out of my element. I kill men. I torture
them. I gather taxes from businesses that require our protection or owe me
money from a loan. Sometimes, I smuggle drugs and weapons.
I do horrible things without blinking an eye. Those things do not keep me
up at night.
But she does.
Making this work between us does.
Having her feel something other than hate for me, does.
When I’m done, I wipe my mouth, gather my plate, washing it off in the
sink before putting it in the dishwasher. I do that with all of the pots and
pans she used too.
“You’re cleaning the kitchen?”
“It needs to be cleaned, doesn’t it? You cooked breakfast, it only makes
sense for me to do my part.”
“I figured you had someone to do that.”
“Mmm, my brother did. He has a wife and kids though, so he needed the
extra help. I do most of everything myself. I like it and the other men who
live here have responsibilities too. No reason to hire someone if I can do it
myself, right?”
“Most men don’t do that,” she says.
I wash out the glass and place it in the top section of the dishwasher. “I’m
not most men, Rosie. I hope you learn that in time,” I say gently. “I know
how we met is unconventional. I know I only gave you so many options and
you feel forced to be here—maybe that’s true—and I’m sorry about that. I
know we both can get something out of this though, not just what we agreed
to.”
She nods but doesn’t say anything, and when she is done with her food, I
place the plate in the dishwasher, then clean off the countertops with cleaner
and a towel.
When I’m done, I take my chances and walk around the kitchen island
until I’m next to her. Grabbing the barstool, I yank her closer to me and she
yelps. I spin her around until I can cage her in, one hand on either side of
her. I want nothing more than to kiss her. This might be the moment, but
she might regret it after and I don’t want that, so I’ll have to wait.
“Maybe, I’m not so bad, Tesoro. Have you thought that maybe I’m
everyone else’s villain, but not yours?” I dare myself to wrap my arms
around her, but I start with one hand draping over her back, my palm
settling in between her shoulder blades. “Have you thought that maybe—” I
lean forward until her legs are between mine “—That I could be the one
thing you need?”
“Ari,” my name is shaken as she speaks, closing her eyes as she fights to
answer me.
“Do you?”
“Yes.” She blinks up at me and I get lost in the skies of her eyes,
reminding me of a cloudless day in midsummer. “But I don’t know what to
make of it. You confuse me. You overwhelm me. My situation upsets me. I
want to see my family and I can’t. I have taken care of them my entire life
and it’s hard not to talk to them. They must be worried sick about me.”
“They aren’t. I told them you were fine. They know about everything.
Your brother was harder to convince, but everything is okay, and they know
to stay quiet. You’ll see them soon, I promise.” She doesn’t know I have a
secret meeting to say goodbye to them tomorrow. I’m keeping my promise
to get them to safety and to do that, they need to get out of the States.
A long gust of air leaves her and she lets all the weight go, sagging
against my chest. She wraps her arms around me, and I do the same to her. I
can’t believe she’s doing this.
I finally get to hold my wife.
The rage is gone for now, but I know it won’t be forever. She’s a candle,
burning bright and strong, but when blown out, a spark is left only to
reignite with vengeance.
This feels right. She feels right.
I don’t want to let her go.
Chapter Eleven
Rosie
Things are a little better after yesterday. Ari and I are closer after the
moment we shared in the kitchen. It still confuses me—he—confuses me. I
shouldn’t feel anything for him. I shouldn’t be able to stand him, but he
makes it very difficult with his easy charm and outgoing personality. I
expected charm from a mafia boss, but the gentleness? The kindness to me?
Then, taking my revenge out on his socks and he wore them anyway? He
has a sense of humor too.
It makes me hate him less and like him more.
I didn’t even sleep on the edge of the bed last night. I relaxed and
enjoyed the wonderful comfort of the best mattress I’ve ever laid on,
cuddled in the biggest, fluffiest comforter I have ever touched.
I’m still on my side. I’m a side sleeper no matter how much I try not to
be, but this time, I’m closer to the middle of the bed.
The sun peeks through the curtains and I think about how much my life
has changed in less than a week. I’ve lived a better life with Ari than I
have…ever. It’s been amazing not working myself to the bone for no
reason. It’s been amazing not having to worry about how the electricity will
stay on. It’s even been nice not to worry about my parents.
And maybe that’s why I’m also so angry and unaccepting of Ari, of this
house, of this newfound freedom I have because yes, it is freedom. I’m
locked in a damn contract, but all the weight has been lifted off my
shoulders.
I’m angry because I have all this, but my family doesn’t, and I feel guilty.
They are still living in that shitty apartment. Is the water on? Do they have
food? Who is doing the laundry? Do they have electricity? What if they are
evicted and homeless and I have no way of finding them?
Ari’s lips on my shoulder bring all my thoughts to a stop. He thinks I’m
sleeping but I feel him every morning giving me the same kiss in the same
spot. I’ve come to expect it, to want it, and that small morning kiss brings
me comfort and soothes all this anger and guilt riding in my body.
“Good morning, Tesoro. “
“Mmm,” I mumble, yanking the covers over my head.
He chuckles. “Come on. It’s time to get ready. I’m taking you somewhere
special.”
Okay, that grabs my attention. I pull down the comforter and peek at him.
“What kind of surprise?”
He props himself on his elbow and raises his brows. “Oh, do you like
surprises?”
“Maybe, depends on the surprise,” I say casually.
“You’ll like this one,” he says, his smile faltering. “So let’s get up and get
ready. We need to be there in an hour.”
I’m not sure if I like his change in demeanor but if it means I have a
chance of getting out of the house, I’ll take it.
When he comes out of the bathroom, he’s freshly shaved, and naked.
I clutch the blanket as he runs his fingers through his freshly wet hair. He
sees me staring and that fucking cocky grin crooks the left side of his face
as he heads to his closet.
When he steps inside, I get the view of his round, plump ass.
Come on, who is built like this? It’s unfair.
“I have clothes here for you, you know. New clothes. You don’t have to
wear the ones in the suitcase Matias brought over from your apartment.
This is your closet too,” he shouts from the inside of it.
“It’s fine. I like my shirts. They are comfortable.”
“I know you like those raggedy college shirts for some reason.” He
comes out partly clothed.
Thank god.
“I remember you wearing one when I saw you at the store.” He tosses me
a maroon shirt and I catch it, lifting it in the air.
Across the chest, it says Harvard on it. He can’t see me because I’m
blocking him with the shirt as I hold it up, but my eyes begin to water.
No one has ever noticed how much I love shirts like this. I don’t know
why. I find them comfortable, simple, and they go easily with my day-today life.
“Now, there are nicer clothes in there. Gowns, for the events, blouses,
skirts, jeans, but I have plenty of shirts in there like that for you. I assumed
they are your favorite. You wear a different one every day.”
“I can’t believe you noticed that.” I drop the t-shirt and wipe my eyes,
hoping he doesn’t see how much this gesture affects me. “You’re making it
hard to hate you, you know.”
He buttons his white shirt and winks at me. “That’s the plan you know,
chipping away at the hate you have for me only to realize it’s been love all
along.”
I snort, rolling my eyes. “You are a wishful thinker.”
“I suppose with you I am,” he states, tucking his shirt in his pants. “It’s
new to me too. I’m not like this with everyone. I have a reputation, an
image, and you soften that image, even with those sharp little daggers you
like to throw at me when you glare.”
“I do not glare,” I say, glaring at him, but I keep my tone light.
“I wouldn’t have you looking at me any other way. I’d wonder if
something was wrong with you.”
“You think you’re so funny.” I finally get out of bed and my shorts ride
up my legs. I stretch, yawning and the small strap to my top falls down my
shoulder.
Since I’m still half asleep because I’m not really a morning person, he’s
suddenly next to me, his fingers playing with the flimsy material. I can’t
help it, I tilt my head to the side, my body once again betraying me to give
him access to a part of me. The calloused pads of his fingers, ones that kill
and torment, touch me as if I’m broken glass, something fragile he doesn’t
want to break.
He is making it very hard to hate him.
“I’m hilarious, Tesoro.” He places the strap back on my shoulder, then
bends down, kissing that same spot on my shoulder.
My skin reacts, pebbling from his kiss again.
“Get dressed. We need to leave soon.” He looks me up and down as if
getting one more fill of me before he has to leave.
Has anyone ever looked at me like that?
And why hasn’t he kissed me yet? He’s always talking about how I’m his
wife and he wants to give this an actual shot, make a baby the real way,
which I wouldn’t mind now that I think about it, but he hasn’t made a
move.
I’m relieved he hasn’t, but I’m also disappointed.
What does he want from me then?
I get dressed like he says, wearing the Harvard shirt he gave me, then
wiggle into a pair of jeans. I spray dry shampoo on my roots and place more
product in my hair to tame these beasts of curls. I toss some mascara on too,
liking how the rich black makes my eye color pop.
When I’m done, I slip on my tennis shoes and walk down the hall,
hearing Ari talk low on the phone. I can’t make out the conversation but
when I step into the kitchen, he hangs up, tucking his phone in his pocket.
“Are you ready? Let’s go.”
Matias and Gianni are already outside by the car waiting for us. I feel
like I’m being pushed out the door and it’s starting to tick me off.
“I love surprises, but I don’t like how I’m being rushed or shoved out the
door. Is this where you sell me or something? Is the buyer meeting us and
changing his demands? It’s that why you’re flustered?”
“I am not flustered. Men like me do not fluster,” he says calmly.
“Your hurried steps and pressure on my lower back say otherwise,” I clip.
“You’re maddening and too intuitive.”
“I’m not too anything. Do not lie to me, Ari. I deserve to know what’s
about to happen to me.”
“Rosie.” His fingers pinch my chin, a habit he has formed, and I fight
him a bit, not wanting him to get his way so quickly. “Rosie,” he deepens
my name, a tone that has me looking up at him immediately. “I’m not
selling you,” he spits. “I’m not in that business. That’s disgusting. I know
our marriage is unconventional, but I am a loyal man. You are my wife. My.
Wife. No one will ever have you again. You are not in danger. I am not
talking to a sex trafficker. Your imagination is wild, Tesoro.”
“You’re in the mafia. I don’t know everything you do.” I think about his
words, how he said “You are my wife” with so much meaning, force, and
determination. As if he meant what he said.
Is he so cut and dry that something as odd as our marriage makes him an
honest husband? This is every girl’s dream.
“I’ll tell you everything I do if you stop asking questions that make no
sense and get in the car.”
I cross my arms and, maybe, I glare at him.
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Will you please get in the
car?” he says sweetly. “You don’t want to be late for this.”
“Yes, I will get in the car. If I am your wife, talk to me like I am.”
Nothing is wrong with what he said, I just feel like pushing his buttons at
the moment.
When I slide in the car, he is right behind me, the door slamming shut,
and then he is on my back, pinning me against the seat. His hand wraps
around my throat and he lifts my head from the seat so I can breathe. His
lips tease my ear, and he chuckles darkly. “You’ll be a fucking good girl
then, wife.” He tightens his hand around my throat. “And you’ll listen to me
when I say that I can’t wait to feel you tighten around my cock.”
My entire body heats and liquid pools in my panties from the gruff and
crass words. He slightly rocks against me, readjusting himself so I can feel
the intimidating length of his cock.
“That’s how I’ll talk to my wife if you aren’t careful,” he warns, his nose
drifting up my throat. “So I suggest you choose your words wisely because
you aren’t ready for me to talk to you the way I truly want.”
He lets me go, pressing those lips against my neck and I have to roll my
lips together to stop myself from moaning.
“Go to the private airstrip, Gianni,” Ari states, sitting in the seat beside
me.
I run my fingers through my hair and clear my throat, fixing my shirt so
it’s in place. My heart is racing, a constant thunder in my chest. It’s so loud,
I can barely hear myself think.
He buckles me in, that damn knowing smirk tilting those lips that make
me want to let go of my control, anger, and regret just so I can feel what his
kiss would taste like.
“I have to make sure my wife is safe.”
“I’m fine.” I don’t sound believable at all.
He buckles himself in next and like before, he slides his hand in mine
and holds on tight. This time, I don’t fight him. I enjoy him and more of the
hate falls away as we drive out the black iron gates and onto the road.
The ride is quiet for a while, only soft music from the stereo filters the
space.
“Why are we going to the airstrip? I thought you weren’t selling me,” I
joke, tightening my hand so he knows I’m kidding.
“While the thought is tempting,” he squeezes my hand in return. “Like I
said, it’s a good surprise, but you might even hate me more after. Something
I’ve prepared myself for.”
I frown, not liking I’ve made him feel that way. “I won’t hate you more,”
I say, believing myself. I’ve had time to decipher my feelings for him and
while they are confusing, I like him. I grow to think about him more every
day and instead of hate, I feel something else, something warm and safe.
“You might, but it’s okay.” He lifts my hand and presses it against his
lips, giving me another soft kiss.
He likes giving me those and it’s those little things, along with getting me
my favorite kind of shirts that have me feeling things for him that are far
from hate.
When we pull into a private drive surrounded by big full trees, dust kicks
up and clouds the area in front of us. We pull into a huge field that’s been
cleared and a plane is sitting at the end of the single airstrip.
“Are we going somewhere?” I ask him, looking out the window in awe.
“Do you own this plane? This land?”
“Yes,” he says, glancing out the side window too.
“Wow. I got into the wrong business then.”
He chuckles. “Well, you’re in it now.”
“So where are we going?”
“We aren’t going anywhere.” He opens the car door and steps outside. He
holds out his hand to me and I take it so he can help me out of the car.
I hear tires crunching behind us and gasp, spinning around as fear clogs
my throat.
“It’s okay, it’s my men. They are here for protection, that’s all.”
I nod, my eyes on the plane.
“We’re here so you can say goodbye to your family. I’m sending them
away. They have money, and new identities, and are going to a safe place
until all this is over. You can’t know where they are going. I have to protect
you from that information. The less you know, the better. Do you
understand?”
“They are here? I can see them?”
He pushes my hair out of my face as the wind blows. “You can see them,
but this is goodbye for now. I need you to understand that.”
“I do,” I say quickly. “I do. Thank you. Thank you!” For the first time, I
wrap my arms around his neck and give him a tight hug. “Thank you, Ari.
Thank you for keeping your promise,” I whisper into his ear, pressing a kiss
against his cheek.
“I’ll always keep my promises to you, Tesoro.”
I lean away, his eyes at ease as he looks at me.
He takes out his phone and makes a call. “Let them off the plane,” he
orders.
I turn my head, my eyes already burning when I see the steps being
lowered to the ground.
“This has to be quick. It’s dangerous for this to be happening. Bianchi is
on the hunt for your brother, and he thinks your brother killed one of his
men. You’re safe, but the longer your family is here, the more in danger
they are.”
“I’ll be fast, I promise,” I tell him. “Thank you, again. I appreciate it.”
“Appreciate it enough that you won’t cut the ends from my socks?” he
rubs his bottom lip with his index finger.
“Don’t go crazy. Where’s the fun in that?” I smile a genuine one.
“Rosie!” I hear Caplan’s voice calling to me from across the field.
I let go of Ari and sprint to my brother, smashing against him as we hold
each other tightly.
“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I’m so sorry,” he chants over and over
again, his fists balling the back of my shirt. “I didn’t mean for it to go this
far.”
I sniffle, pulling back. His cheeks are wet, and I take his jaw in my
hands. “It’s okay. It’s fine. Everything will work out, okay? You guys are
going to go on a vacation. You’re going to have so much fun. You’ll finally
be able to breathe, Cap. You’re okay. It will all be okay. Then, when all of
this is said and done, we can be together again.”
Mom and Dad hobble over to us too. Dad’s hair is thinning, and he seems
a bit pasty and pale.
“They will get the best medical treatment too. Ari has all of it covered.
You’re finally free.”
“But you aren’t,” he holds back his tears. “What will happen to you?
Why do you have to stay?”
“It’s a deal I made. I’ll be okay, I promise. He’s a nice man,” I find
myself saying. “He won’t let anything bad happen to me.”
“You aren’t coming with?” My dad asks.
“You’re okay with that?” Mom questions right behind him. “I don’t know
how I feel about this. We can’t leave the store.”
“You haven’t been working the store!” I snap. “You don’t give a crap
about the store. You’re upset you have to do something for yourself now
instead of other people killing themselves for you. Get on the plane.”
“Rosie O’Connor!”
“Mom, I love you, but get on the plane,” I say, my emotions starting to
get the best of me.
I hear the grass crunch from behind me and I turn to see Ari striding
toward me, his expression unreadable. He places his hand on my lower
back, soothing circles, and immediately, I feel better.
Since when does my enemy make me feel better?
“I’m sorry, but you all need to leave. It isn’t safe here any longer. I need
to get Rosie out of harm’s way. Say your goodbyes,” he says, sliding his
hand to the back of my neck to give it a gentle squeeze.
I’m thankful our time was cut short. Talking to my parents is impossible.
Now that I think about it, the only one I wanted to see is Caplan and I hate
that he is stuck with them.
My parents don’t even say goodbye to me as they get on the plane.
“I don’t want to go without you,” Caplan says. “I’ll stay here with you.
I’ll help. I’ll be good. I won’t get in the way, I swear.”
I sob, pulling him into a tight hug again. “I couldn’t live with myself
knowing something happened to you. You have to go and the moment it is
safe, I’m bringing you back, okay? You’ll be home with me and Ari.” I
cringe on the inside, knowing I should have asked him first.
“Absolutely. Any family of Rosie’s is mine as well.”
Caplan narrows his eyes. “What are your intentions with my sister?”
“Oh my god, Caplan.” I push him toward the plan and laugh. “I’m fine. I
love you. We’ll talk soon, okay?”
He frowns, knowing that isn’t the case. “I love you too.” He points two
fingers at his eyes, then at Ari. “I’m watching you, man. You hurt her, I’ll
hurt you.”
Ari snorts, knowing my little brother couldn’t flick him without dying.
“Noted,” Ari shouts, giving my brother a wave. “I like him. He is protective
of you.”
“Yeah,” my voice croaks. “I’ll miss him.”
“You’ll get him back soon, I promise.”
A loud pop sounds, traveling through the field. I’m barely able to hear it
over the roar of the engines but another one sounds.
Ari tackles me to the ground and air whooshes out of my lungs.
“Rosie! Rosie!” my brother screams for me.
“Get him on the plane! Leave! Now!” Ari shouts at his men and I can
barely turn my head, my chin scraping against the grass since I barely have
room to move. I am able to see the door to the plane is shut and it begins to
move. It speeds down the runway and the engines blowing air so hard, I
have to look away, so the sand doesn’t get in my eyes.
“Come on, Rosie. We have to get you out of here. Now.” Ari yanks me to
my feet, and I watch the plane zoom through the air above me, holding
everything I love.
I stumble, but Ari has a good hold on me.
Gunshots from everywhere are happening. Bullet holes are decorating the
car and Ari opens the backdoor, shoving me inside.
“Fuck!” he hisses.
He climbs into the car and Gianni slides into the driver’s seat and Matias
in the passenger one. “They are dead,” Matias says. “I don’t know how they
found us. Bianchi knew.”
Gianni slams on the gas and the tires spin, kicking up rocks and dirt.
“Damn it,” Ari groans, removing his hand from his shoulder.
His hand is covered in blood.
“Oh my god, Ari,” I rush to him, pressing my hand against the wound.
“You got shot.”
“Feels like it too.”
“You were shot?” Matias spins around, eyes rounding when he sees his
twin. “I’ll call a nurse. I’ll have her meet us at the house.”
“It’s fine. It’s a through and through,” Ari says.
“It isn’t fine. You were shot because of me.”
“I was shot because of Bianchi’s men. Was your finger on the trigger?”
I blow out a breath, exasperated. “You know what I mean. This wouldn’t
have happened if it weren’t for me.”
“It isn’t the first time I’ve been shot. It won’t be the last. It comes with
the job.”
“It’s ridiculous.”
The car takes a sharp turn and Ari gets jostled. He moans, breathing in
through his nose. Sweat beads across his forehead, his skin losing its
gorgeous olive hue.
“I’ve been waiting to give this to you. It’s nothing special, not yet
anyway. I’m still figuring you out to pick the right one.” He pulls out a box
with his bloodied hand and opens it with a painful grunt.
Two simple gold wedding bands are settled in the velvet box. He takes
mine out and slips it on my finger, then slides his on.
“If we are married, we need to have the gear, right?”
I stare at my hand in complete shock. It’s real. I’m a married woman. I
have no idea what to say to him, so I stay silent, keeping pressure on his
wound.
Blood drips over my new ring and I can’t help but wonder if blood will
be the everyday way of life for me now.
Chapter Twelve
Ari
Rosie seems a little green around the gills as she stares at my shoulder.
She’s handling it better than I thought. She’s also very quiet now on the way
home. She’s crying though, her cheeks wet with tears.
“I knew you cared,” I tease, wanting to make her smile.
“I’m only trying to keep you alive so my family stays safe,” she replies, a
twist on her mouth to let me know she may or may not be kidding.
I’m going to stay positive and hope she doesn’t mean what she just said.
She’s such a damn brat, so headstrong and stubborn, but I love it. She
challenges me in ways I didn’t know I liked. Not much comes easy with
Rosie and I’m so used to having things handed to me that the challenge she
gives me is welcome.
And a major aphrodisiac.
“You’re bleeding and you still make jokes.”
“Eh,” I waved her words away. “I’m used to bleeding a little for the right
cause.”
“Is that what I am? A cause?”
“Something like that.” I wrap my hand around hers, the one pressing
against my shoulder to stop the bleeding. “Admit it,” I say softly. “Admit
you care, just a little.”
She leans forward, her nose brushing against mine. “Never.”
“You’re a mean, mean woman,” I can’t help but laugh, thinking that
maybe she was going to kiss me.
She kissed my cheek at the airstrip, which still has me giddy as if I just
got my first kiss when I was fifteen. I’m taking her innocent cheek kiss as a
win.
The gates are already open when we pull into the driveway since my men
know to open them when there is an emergency, and we are on our way. A
few of my men spill out of the front door, rushing down the staircase and a
few cars behind us come to a hurried stop and the gate closes.
Rosie goes to get out of the car, and I grab her arm. “What do you think
you’re doing?”
“Getting out so I can help you out of the car,” she says as if I’ve lost my
mind.
I push her against the seat, pressing my hand against my shoulder, and I
won’t lie, her hand felt a lot better than my own.
“I help you out of the car, wife.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous. You’re shot, Ari. Let me
help you.”
“I better be fucking dead before you’re helping yourself out of the damn
car.” I push the door open, holding in a moan of pain, and manage to get
out.
“You’re impossible,” she sighs like she does when she’s annoyed with
me.
Which is all the time.
I hold out my hand, the one that isn’t drenched in my blood, and she
slaps her palm across mine, gripping me while giving me a dirty look.
“Matias, get her inside. Now,” I order.
Matias sweeps in, covering her with most of his body.
“Ari! What are you doing? Come inside,” she shouts.
“I want extra security and I want someone to follow Bianchi,
understood? I want to know where he was. I want to confirm this was him
before I fucking kill him.”
“Sure thing, Ari. Fuck, you don’t look too good.” Gianni tugs my jacket
down my arm and grimaces. “Come on, let’s get you inside. We’re safe
now.”
“No. I want a sweep. I want you to order men to check this property over
a hundred times. I don’t want anyone within five miles of this compound,
do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal,” he states. “Let’s get you inside. The nurse should be here
soon.”
“I should look into getting a new doctor. So many retired when Carmine
did.”
“Yes, but it’s on the list. Give yourself a break.”
“We can’t afford breaks.”
He helps me inside and he sets me down on one of the barstools.
“I’ll go give instructions to everyone and give you updates every thirty
minutes.”
“Thank you, Gianni.” I unbutton my suit jacket and groan when I try to
shrug it off.
“Will you stop?” Matias marches over to me and helps me ease my jacket
off. “Stop trying to do everything yourself. It’s annoying. It’s no wonder she
can’t stand you.”
“She’s crazy about me. Don’t let her fool you.”
“Maybe it’s him who is fooled,” I hear her voice from down the hall.
She stands in front of me, holding a white towel. “I have it from here
until the nurse arrives,” she says to Matias.
“See? She wants to be alone with me.”
She slaps me lightly with the towel. “Don’t get so full of yourself. I’m
going to unbutton your shirt and I didn’t know if you wanted him to see.”
“We have the same bodies,” Matias points out. “Nothing I haven’t seen
before.”
She looks away, blushing. “Of course, sorry. I don’t know why I didn’t
think of that. I don’t think you guys look anything alike.” She begins to
unbutton my shirt and her fingers have a slight tremble as she tries to
unbutton my shirt.
“Really? We are identical,” Matias explains. “We are exact replicas of
each other. Down to the—”
“Don’t,” I bite out, cutting him off.
“Oh,” she breathes out slowly, her cheeks as bright as a tomato.
Matias grins at me knowingly and I grip Rosie’s hip. “Don’t let him lie to
you, Tesoro. I’m more able to…fill your every need.”
“Fuck you.” Matias flicks me his middle finger.
“I mean—” she stops us from bantering “—Ari’s hair is darker and his
jaw is wider, but your cheekbones are higher. Your nose is a little crooked
too, Matias. I just think it’s easy to tell you two apart, that’s it.”
“It’s crooked cause he broke it when we were six.”
“You deserved it,” I grumble.
“How about both of you stop acting like you’re six and we can get this
gunshot wound taken care of?”
Her hand slides up my shoulders, missing where my wound is, and
slowly strips me of my ruined shirt. “You’re both broad, but where Ari is
lean, you have more bulk,” she swallows, her fingertips dragging down my
arms, tossing the shirt on the floor.
“You have a dimple in your chin,” she continues. “And Ari doesn’t.”
“Is that so?” Matias asks, which has her talking more.
I never want her to stop. Not many people can notice the slight
differences between me and my twin. A person has to look very closely to
notice those differences because they are slight.
“And Ari has a little silver around his temples.” It’s almost as if she’s in a
trance or I know she wouldn’t typically be saying these things. I don’t
move, I don’t even think I breathe because her fingers stroke my temples
right where I’m starting to gray.
“Yeah, he is getting old, quick, right?” Matias says.
“Distinguished,” she corrects, our eyes meeting and something shifts
between us, something monumental, I think.
She clears her throat and looks down on my shoulder. “I can clean up the
surrounding area and it’s still bleeding but not as much as it was, so that’s
good. I’m afraid I can’t help more than that. I have never stitched skin
before.”
“It’s not so different from fixing a tear in a shirt,” Matias says.
Rosie gasps, horrified, and her expression is comical.
“He’s kidding.” I narrow my eyes at my brother. “Say you’re kidding.”
“I’m kidding,” he relents, then frowns. “I’m going to call the nurse to see
what is taking so long. You need to think about hiring a doctor.”
“I know,” I sigh, wincing when Rosie presses a little too close to the
wound.
“Sorry,” she whispers, sounding sad and guilty while she cleans the blood
from my skin with easy, tender swipes.
“It’s okay, Tesoro. I can take the pain.”
“You shouldn’t have to.” She moves to my back, cleaning that exit
wound.
“It comes with the job.” I lift my good shoulder.
“I need to go get a fresh towel. Keep this pressed until I get back. “
“Yes ma’am,” I say to her, watching her leave.
I groan, sagging against the counter to let out some of the pain I’ve been
holding back.
“The nurse is here,” Matias shouts before opening the door.
I stand, but not to greet him or her. I walk to my liquor cabinet and grab a
bottle of whiskey, then notice the red liquid dried on my wedding ring. With
a gentle pull, I slide it off my finger and walk to the kitchen sink, laying it
on the counter so I can wash it after the nurse leaves.
“Mr. Milazzo?” a soft feminine voice comes from behind me, grating my
nerves for some reason.
I twist off the cap of the whiskey and take a long swig.
She sets a small bag down and pats the barstool. “Please, come sit so we
can get this taken care of.”
I don’t miss how she looks me up and down, heat swirling in her brown
eyes, but I do not feel the same. Everything I want is down the hall, whether
we are in a business deal or not. Her hands drift up my arm in a way that
shouts how interested she is.
“Wow, you’re in peak physical health, Mr. Milazzo,” she practically
purrs, and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes at how obvious she’s
being.
If I wanted her, I could have her.
But nothing about how she is presenting herself attracts me. I like my
women difficult, slightly aggravating, and with curly hair that goes in every
direction.
The nurse spins the stool and starts poking and prodding around the exit
wound. I hear a gasp and see Rosie in the hallway, clutching a towel to her
chest, and her blue eyes pierce me through the shadowed darkness of the
hall. That’s when the nurse runs her hand over my shoulder, humming in
appreciation.
“I’m going to numb the area, but you might still feel some pressure,
okay?”
“No problem,” I tell her, taking another swig of my drink.
Rosie’s eyes fall to my hand, and I curse, forgetting I had taken my ring
off so I can clean it.
Is she jealous?
And is it wrong of me to want her to continue to be jealous?
When she presses a needle into my skin, I clench my fist and a rumble
fills my chest to hold in the fucking curse I want to scream.
“You’re taking this well,” the nurse says.
“It isn’t my first time being shot. It won’t be the last.”
“Well—” she stands in front of me, biting her lip while she injects this
side with medicine. “I hope if you do, you’ll call me again.”
I peer over her shoulder to see Rosie, leaning against the wall, watching
the nurse flirt with me.
I want her to stay jealous. It tells me she cares in some sick and twisted
way. I don’t care what I have to do to have Rosie look at me like this more
often.
“We’ll have to see,” I say, staying neutral but not giving her hope either.
I want Rosie to see me speaking with her.
“How does this feel?” Her free hand lands on my good shoulder, pressing
the edges of the wound while staring directly into my eyes.
Does this work on other men?
“Feels fine. I don’t feel a thing,” I grunt, snagging the whiskey bottle and
taking another long swig.
“Great. I’m going to start stitching up then. I’m going to give you some
pain medicine too. You need to keep your arm in a sling until I come and
take out your stitches.”
“We’ll see about that too.”
“Now, don’t be complicated, Mr. Milazzo,” she giggles, beginning to
stitch up the wound. “Unless you want me back here sooner.” She bats her
eyelashes at me, and I wait to feel something, anything to suggest I might
want this woman, but nothing is there.
I only want Rosie. I peer into the hallway again and Rosie isn’t there
anymore.
Fuck.
I messed up. Again.
I shouldn’t have even entertained the nurse, but I loved how Rosie looked
at me as if she wanted to stomp in here and claim me as her own.
She didn’t and I know she wouldn’t, at least, not under the current
circumstances.
I’m feeling a slight buzz from the alcohol by the time the nurse is done
stitching me up.
“Pain medicine right here.” She jiggles the container. “And antibiotics.”
She slips the sling over my head and leans in close, her breasts nearly
pressing against my face. She eases my arm in the sling. “How does that
feel?”
“Like it’s going to be a pain in the ass,” I gripe, hating the way the straps
dig into my skin.
Yeah, this won’t last.
She giggles again, placing her hands on my legs and whispers in my ear.
“If you need anything else, call me, or if you don’t…call me anyway.”
“Okay. That’s enough,” Rosie marches her way into the kitchen and
snags the nurse by the arm. “Thank you for your service. You can leave
now.”
“Wait! Who the hell are you?” the nurse yells as Rosie opens the door
and tosses her out.
I grin.
She cares.
Even if she’ll never admit it.
Rosie slams the door in her face, sliding the lock in place, and marches
up the steps.
“That wasn’t very nice, Rosie. She was only helping me.” I stand, taking
a step in the middle of the hall to get in her way.
Rosie narrows her eyes and grips my hand, lifting it so I can see the
absence of the ring on my finger. “I’m sure she was only helping you.
There’s a clause in the contract, you know. I don’t know if you remember
but if either of us cheats, the contract is broken. Keep that in mind the next
time you flirt with your nurse.”
“Is that why you’re so mad? Because of the contract?” I ask, knowing
that isn’t the case at all. Rosie cares about me. In the small amount of time,
we have gotten to know one another, we have grown closer, no matter how
much she doesn’t want to admit it.
She bumps my bad shoulder with hers, lightly, but I’m still numb so I
don’t feel it.
She likes me.
Even if she hates me.
And that’s worth more than that gem she has.
Chapter Thirteen
Rosie
It’s been a few days since the nurse incident, and I may or may not have
sewed “Pull my hair and spank me” on his sling. Then I found out he took
his wedding ring off to clean the blood from it but didn’t have time to put it
back on when the nurse got there.
Still, I didn’t hear him say he was married.
I can’t say I don’t care anymore. I do.
Too much. I shouldn’t but damn it, seeing that nurse’s hands all over him
and how she threw herself at him, made me see red.
I thought when I sewed the words onto his sling, he’d be furious, but he
just laughed and wore it around the house, having meetings with his men as
if the words didn’t embarrass him. It’s been two days since I sewed it on,
and he has done nothing about it. He still wears it as if he is proud of it.
I know he does it just to tick me off, but it doesn’t now. His way of
taking everything in stride only makes me smile. The rebellion inside me
lessens every day and a part of me has kept it up because it’s fun when we
play around with each other.
Sometimes I wonder why I’m still angry and taking it out on Ari, which
isn’t fair, because I’m angry at so many things in this world, and while he
was someone I was mad at, I’m not anymore.
I’m still mad at everything else that’s happened in my life. I’m so damn
angry, I want to burn the store down. I want to scream. I want to kick and
punch. I want to go to the old apartment and soak it in gasoline, laughing in
relief as I drop the match.
I know, it’s insane to want. I have to be fucked up in the head to want that
to happen, but over the years, I’ve held so much inside me. Ari, while a
charming and conniving businessman, gave me a deal that enraged me at
first; it’s the last thing on my list to be angry about now.
He’s the punching bag as I take out my anger and that isn’t okay. He
takes it though; he deals with my bursts of lividity and just takes it in stride.
He has to be the most even-tempered man I’ve ever met, which makes him
a great mafia boss because he is calm, collected, and patient; but when he
does snap, it’s never at me or with impatience toward his men.
It’s always at the situation he is dealing with.
I want to ruffle those feathers, though. Not out of spite, but because it’s
fun, and I know he likes to do the same for me.
And on top of all that, I might be sexually frustrated because he is always
walking around shirtless now that he has a sling. He doesn’t like to have to
take it off and put it back on over his shirt, which makes sense, but then I’m
left staring at his body all day and night.
The man has an amazing body and he flaunts it in front of me—which
I’m sure is part of the reason why he decides not to wear shirts around the
house—but I’m still human. I’m a woman who has never experienced
another man’s touch and I’m craving his. The slight touches, the kind
caresses, him being gentle with me and not pushing me, aren’t enough for
me anymore. I don’t know how to act on it either. I don’t know how to take
that next step, especially when I know I’m not ready yet. I don’t know him
well enough.
Then, another part of me doesn’t care.
I should just tell him I want him, but the thought has nerves floating
around in my stomach. What if he says no?
I’d rather just take care of it myself.
Finally, I roll out of bed and head to the bathroom, doing everything I
need to before getting into the shower. I wash my hair and body, shave, and
then stand there under the hot water, letting images of Ari run through my
mind.
And he never gets tired.
One hand plays with my nipple and I imagine him sucking it into his
mouth. I gasp, arching my back, then slide my other hand down between
my legs. I pass my clit. I know a lot of women love clit stimulation and I do
too, but I get the most out of fingering myself.
Inserting two fingers, I groan, as I pump in and out easily. I’m already
slick at the thought of Ari going down on me, finger fucking me with
aggression because the harder the better in my opinion. A constant moan
leaves me, echoing in the bathroom, and I almost don’t care who hears me.
“Oh god,” I toss my head back, lifting my leg to the edge of the tub so I
have better access, then slide in another finger.
God, it doesn’t feel like enough. I ache. I need more.
I want Ari.
I pound my fingers in and out, driving them in with such force and speed,
the water makes the sound louder as my skin slaps together.
“Ari,” I whisper just before my orgasm explodes through me, my vision
blurring for a split second as my climax takes over me.
Slowly, I stroke my fingers in and out, milking every last drop of my
orgasm and igniting new, smaller waves of pleasure until I’m relaxed.
All the negativity is gone. The anger has dimmed. And all I want to do
now is cuddle up in my husband’s arms and have him hold me. I want to try
to give into this arrangement. My luck definitely could have been worse
when they dropped a mafia boss in front of me at the store.
I could have been left with someone like Bianchi. And who knows what
would have happened to me then?
I’m thankful to have been allowed to save my family and myself and it is
in the form of Ari Milazzo.
I turn the water off, more relaxed than I have been in a while, and a rush
of disappointment drifts over me when I notice the bathroom is empty. I
don’t know why I expected him to be in here, maybe overhearing me groan
his name while I orgasmed from the thought of him, but I did expect him,
and all that’s left is steam rolling through the air and a foggy mirror.
Alone.
Isn’t that what I wanted all along? Even before Ari, I wanted to be alone.
I didn’t want to take care of people anymore. And now Ari gives me space.
It’s exactly what I wanted.
I swipe the mirror of the condensation and stare at myself, my curls
dripping with water. Being alone is overrated especially when the person
who wants to get to know you isn’t so bad after all.
I dry my hair, bunching the curls up while I squeeze the ends in the
towel. Next, I use product and a ton of it, then blow dry, and head to the
closet.
I decide to go for a pretty sundress Ari bought for me. It’s yellow, airy,
and the opposite of my normal doom and gloom. I really need to change my
way of thinking, or I’ll find myself on an island all alone, but I couldn’t
complain, right? Since that’s all I wanted.
I drop the towel and slip the dress on, then open my drawer and snag a
pair of panties. As I put them on, I notice something…different.
The middle of my panties is gone. The entire crotch has been cut out. My
raging temper flickers to life and I dig through my drawer to find all my
panties have been butchered.
“Oh, you son of a—” I catch myself before I say a curse word even
though he isn’t around. “This won’t deter me from wearing them.” I know
that’s what he wants, but I’m going to wear them and I’m going to show
him what he has now when he signed up for a wife.
I slam the drawers shut and decide I’m going to spend my entire day in
these panties. Let’s see how his control is tested when he gets a glimpse of
what he hasn’t seen of me yet. With that plan in mind, I slip on a pair of
nude heels, and I might put on a little makeup. Two squirts of perfume later,
I’m strolling out the door, feeling bare because I can feel the slight chill of
the breeze caressing my exposed pussy.
I’m not even in front of anyone and I blush.
When I get to the kitchen, I smell the awakening aroma of freshly brewed
coffee and I make myself a cup, sipping on it, and notice his office doors
are closed. Shadows move behind the frosted glass, and I know he is in a
meeting which would make this moment even better.
My heels kiss the tile, the echoing taps nearly matching my heartbeat.
I lift my hand and knock on the door, innocently and unsure. I don’t even
know if he can hear it.
The door opens and Matias is there and standing behind him are a few of
Ari’s men. I still can’t remember all their names, but I know there is
Maliko, who just came here from Italy. Now that I’m here, everyone seems
a bit intimidating, and I’ve made a mistake. I’ve lost my nerve.
“I’m sorry, Ari. I’ll come back later. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Nonsense, Tesoro. You’re welcome in all my meetings. Come here.” He
gestures for me to enter the room and I step inside, keeping my eyes
downward. I feel the power in the room shift and the tension build.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, taking a peek at the men from below my
lashes. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“Is my wife intruding?”
“No, Mr. Milazzo,” Maliko states, hands clasped in front of him.
“No, sir,” another says.
“She’s never a bother. I happen to like Rosie very much,” Matias says.
“Me too,” Gianni chimes in.
“There you have it. Come here, Tesoro.”
I tug the hem of my dress, hoping it doesn’t lift and show what I plan on
tempting Ari with.
With tentative, easy steps, I walk to stand next to him on his good side.
His shirt is still off and I’m sure that isn’t normal for men in such important
positions as his. He wraps an arm around my waist, his hand gripping my
hip and he tugs me down on his lap.
I’m settled on his knee.
My bare pussy rubs against his pant leg and I have to pinch my lips
together to keep quiet. My plan is failing. I was going to tempt him. I was
going to show him his little payback scheme didn’t bother me, but now it is
bothering me.
In all the right ways.
“Any update on Bianchi?”
Maliko steps forward. “He’s been quiet. He has been at his club. We can’t
confirm if it was Bianchi’s men at the airstrip. He’s still looking for Rosie’s
brother. He doesn’t know he has left the country yet. I know he is aware of
Rosie now, though.”
“What?” Ari shouts, his fingers digging into my thigh which lifts my
dress. The calloused pads of his fingers scratch my skin ever so lightly and
my nipples harden, giving away my state of arousal.
“He found out about Caplan. He’s searching for him and now he is
searching for Rosie. If he finds out you have Rosie, I’m afraid a war will
happen.”
“Then let it,” Ari says. “I’ll defend my wife. I want an update on this
twice a day. Understand me?”
“Yes, Mr. Milazzo.”
“And I wanted to give an update on Rosie’s family. They have made it
safely to their destination. They are settling into their new home.”
“Thank you, Gianni,” I say, the weight of the world lifting off my
shoulders. “I’m happy to hear that.” I can’t stop the sorrow seeping out of
my voice. I miss my brother so much.
“You’re dismissed. Everyone out. I need a moment with my wife.” Ari
waves them away and they leave without a fuss.
“Very impressive to have them listen to you like that.”
“They respect me. I respect them. They respect you. It’s as simple as
that.” He turns my head and studies me for a second, then his eyes wander
down my body. “You look very beautiful today, Rosie. Seeing you dressed
like this,” a growl escapes him, and he lifts me from his leg. He clears his
throat, trying to regain focus which has me smile and I stroll around his
desk, tracing the edge with my fingers. “I know you miss them, and I
promise I’ll bring them home as soon as it is safe. Maybe when things quiet
down, you can write a letter to your brother.”
“Wouldn’t that be risky?” I ask, taking a seat in the big, leather chair in
front of his desk.
“We would figure it out if that’s what you wanted.”
“I would like that. Thank you, Ari.”
“Is there something you needed?” he finally asks, pushing away from his
desk. He stands, heading around until he is standing in front of me.
This is it.
We’re alone.
This is where I show him his tricks don’t bother me. Where’s my nerve?
“I—I wanted to show you something,” I say, a slight tremble in my
voice. I won’t stop now. I won’t let this moment deter me from what I need
to do. I lift my legs onto the chair and spread them, showing myself off to
him. “Your panties are very comfy.”
His nostrils flare and he takes a step forward. “What the hell do you think
you’re doing?” his voice is a rasp, barely hanging on to the edge of control.
That’s exactly what I wanted.
I run my fingers down my slit, gasping when I feel how wet I am. If I can
feel it, he can see it. I know he can see it. “I’m playing your game. Is that
what you wanted?” I tease, watching lust swirl in his eyes.
Checkmate.
Chapter Fourteen
Ari
I knew the panties would be a risk. I had a stash of all-new panties for her
to wear. I easily replaced them; I wanted to see her reaction, but I did not
expect this. I thought maybe she’d yell at me, maybe throw them at me one
by one, call me names, but not her sitting in front of me in a little fucking
sundress, her cleavage showing, and her gorgeous pink pussy on display
while she drifts her fingers up and down, trying to drive me nuts.
It's working. My cock is dying to slip inside her tight cunt, and I want to
bury myself so deep, she feels me for days. She’ll ache in the deepest parts
of her body because of me. I’ll breed her every day and every night until
she’s pregnant with my child.
And even after, when she thinks she can leave me when the contract is
done, I’ll have her pregnant again.
Because once she is mine, once I claim her, no one else will ever be
allowed to have her ever again.
“Don’t you like what you see?” she purrs, knowing damn well she has
me hook, line, and sinker.
I don’t bother to hide how hard I am. I have never hidden how much I
want her, but I’ve been respecting her boundaries, having patience, being
kind, and hoping she’d like me for who I am instead of giving into the
contract. I don’t want us to have sex because of the contract.
But damn it, she’s tempting me.
I don’t say anything. I sit and watch her dainty fingers gently caress up
and down her pussy. Fuck, she’s pretty. I want nothing more than to get on
my knees, lift one leg over my shoulder, and feast on her. I bet she tastes so
fucking sweet, so delicious, I’ll never want to stop tasting her.
God, she has no idea what she’s doing to me.
“It looks like you like it.” Her eyes fall to my cock, biting her lower lip.
“I love it,” I admit, watching as she inserts two fingers inside herself.
Her mouth parts and my eyes lock on her sliding her fingers in and out,
shining with her nectar. I rub a hand over my mouth, growling as my cock
begins to throb with need. I grip it, squeezing the hard length in hopes the
small amount of pain will help calm me down.
It doesn’t.
The touch only proves how sensitive I am. I’m ready to come and I’m
ready to come again, again, and again.
She has no idea how long I can go, how tired she’ll be, how exhausted
she’ll be from the countless orgasms I’ll be able to give from never
flagging. Her body will be my instrument, igniting beautiful sounds I’ll
never get tired of hearing, and I’ll play every spot that has her moaning my
name, arching into me, begging for me until she prays for me to stop.
“Slide another finger in,” I order, turning to walk to my liquor cabinet. I
pour a tall glass of scotch and take a deep breath, willing my cock to obey.
I’m not sure how much longer I can be graced with her legs spread just to
stand there and do nothing.
I chug half before pouring more to top the glass off.
Spinning around, I take my time heading to her. My hand falls on her
shoulder and from this angle, I can see her arm moving and her fingers
disappearing under her little dress. When our relationship progresses, I’m
going to bend her over my desk, lift this dress, and fuck her as she deserves.
Then, I’ll fill her with every damn drop and slip a plug inside so my come
has no room to escape. It won’t take her long to get pregnant. Not with how
many times I’ll be able to come.
“Does that feel good, Tesoro?” I slide my hands through her hair and
yank her head back. The smell of her shampoo, strawberries and cream, fills
my lungs, and I bury my nose in her hair.
I can’t get enough.
“You think you can come in here and what? Test me? I’m an expert in
self-control. What did you expect me to do? Did you expect me to fuck you
right here?”
“I—I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Oh, Tesoro,” I chuckle darkly in her ear, pressing a kiss to her neck.
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’d fuck you in this office for our first
time. I’m going to wreck you,” I sneer almost hatefully. “I’m going to press
your body into the bed and explore every inch of your skin. I’m going to
learn what makes you crazy, discover the best way to make you come, and
enjoy every fucking sound I’m going to take from you. I bet you’re going to
sound so pretty when I slide my big cock inside you for the first time. I
fucking dream of experiencing that moment, but I won’t take you like this. I
know what you’re trying to do, and you almost have me breaking because
look at you—” I compliment, growling in her ear as she fucks herself faster,
moaning so loud, if anyone is in the rooms on either side of the office they
can hear her. “—You are so fucking beautiful. You have no idea how much
I crave you, Tesoro.”
“I already,” she licks her lips, her gorgeous cheeks flush with desire. “I
already made myself come when I took a shower.”
My eyes nearly shut at the thought of her wet body. “And what did you
think about?”
Her ocean eyes become round and she snags her bottom lip with her
teeth. “I’ll never tell.”
“You will one day.” I let her go and walk around until I’m in front of the
desk again, leaning against it. I sip my whiskey, eyes locked onto her pussy.
She stops, pulling her fingers free and I step forward, grabbing her wrist,
and pressing her fingers back inside her. “I didn’t say you could stop,” I tell
her then step back.
I want nothing more than to join her, but this is already pushing her
boundaries. I want what she is offering, but it isn’t the right time, no matter
how much I wish differently.
She continues to fuck herself and I gulp my whiskey, the burn stinging
my throat. When I down my drink, I set my glass down a little too hard and
it breaks, but I don’t give a fuck.
I squeeze my cock through my pants, wanting nothing more than to free
myself and stroke myself until I come all over that pretty cunt. I want to
paint it with my come.
Her needy little sounds become more frequent, her chest rising and
falling rapidly as she tries to catch her breath.
“That’s it, come for me, Tesoro. Come for me. Let me watch you fall
apart.” I clutch the edge of the desk, digging my blunt nails into the wood. I
could come just watching her. She’s a sight to fucking watch and I never
want her to wear other panties again. These are the way to go. Easy access.
“You’re fucking beautiful. Come on, Rosie. Come for me. Let me see you.”
She tosses her head back, moaning, and to my surprise, she squirts a little
bit, soaking her hand and the leather beneath her. “Ari,” she whimpers,
removing her fingers from her cunt before rubbing her clit.
So that’s what she likes? Noted.
Another small pulse leaves her after she gives her clit some attention.
She sags in the chair, struggling to catch her breath, and her eyes are
hooded as if she is drunk. In two large strides, I’m in front of her and I
squat, face to face with the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.
I want to lean in and lick her come clean, suck her clit into my mouth
until she’s writhing beneath me again.
“What a good girl doing what she’s told,” I praise her, grabbing her hand
to remove it from her pussy. Her fingers shine from her come and it’s
dripping down her hand. I suck her fingers into my mouth, moaning when
her taste bursts across my tongue. When she’s clean, I lick down her palm.
“Ari,” she says my name in shock.
“You taste good, Tesoro, but I bet you taste even better when your come
is fresh from the source.”
“Ari.” This time, my name has a slight scolding sound to it with a hint of
bashfulness only a virgin could have.
I know she isn’t a virgin, and it only makes me wish I had found her
sooner so that it would have been me who was her first.
I tug her dress down to cover her, my mind reeling about how she looks
with those panties on.
“Wait, that’s it?”
“What do you mean that’s it?” I ask, standing to my full height.
“What about you?” Her eyes land on my cock, still hard and aching.
“Like I said, I’m patient.”
“But this is what you wanted, right?” she readjusts, sitting forward, and
her brows dip before she explodes in anger. “Are you kidding me? You did
this. You wanted this. You are the one that ruined all my panties. What did
you expect? Why can’t we just get this over with, huh? Then your contract
will be complete.”
I know she doesn’t mean what she says. I know because her eyes well
with tears.
“No,” I answer. “I don’t want you like this. I don’t want you to offer
yourself to me because of the tricks we played on each other. I don’t want
you to throw the contract in my face as a reason you do this. I want to earn
your trust so maybe you’ll let me fuck you like a husband should.” I snag
my blazer from the coat rack, something I haven’t worn in a few days
because I can’t stand this sling. And taking it on and off to get dressed is
fucking annoying, so I’ve been going around shirtless in sweatpants.
I can do what I want. I’m the boss after all.
I drape the coat over her shoulders and brush a tear that has escaped. “Go
get dressed, Rosie.” I’ll have to take care of my cock later because I’m
dying for relief. I won’t seek it with her just yet. I need her walls to come
down around me more before anything else happen between us.
“You’re unbelievable.” Rosie shakes her head. “I don’t know what you
want from me. I just made a fool out of myself for you—”
“Don’t ever call yourself a fool. You aren’t. What just happened was the
sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed. I don’t regret it at all. As I said before, I
am not going to push you or rush this. You need to understand I’m in this
for the long game not because of some contract.”
“Then why won’t you touch me?”
“Because you aren’t ready,” I say softly. “You want to be and right now,
this thing that just happened in the office, you were getting back at me for
ruining your underwear. I want things to happen naturally.”
“Well, maybe you lost your chance,” she hisses, rushing out of the room.
She slams the door and I’m left in the room that smells of her. The
leather chair is still wet from her orgasm, and I rip off my sling, frustration
building, and I pick it up and throw it across the room. I bellow, yelling my
impatience. It’s guttural and my throat hurts.
Something stings on my shoulder, and I feel something warm drip. I look
down and swipe the clock off my desk in annoyance when I see I’ve ripped
my stitches.
I’ll be damned if I lost my chance.
I’m just now earning it.
Chapter Fifteen
Rosie
I don’t know why I’m so upset. I wanted something to happen. I wanted
something to finally explode between us. Maybe a kiss, a touch, something
to tell me that whatever this is between us is real and not because of the
deal we made.
Now I’m wondering if it’s just a business transaction and nothing more. I
mean, wouldn’t most men jump at the opportunity to have sex with a
woman who is spreading her legs in front of them? Ari just stood there as if
he has seen it all before a hundred times.
Maybe that’s the problem.
He has.
This isn’t about the contract anymore, no matter how much my fear says
otherwise. I like this man and I know I’m on my way to falling in love with
him, but I’ve never been in love. I don’t know what to do. I’m a grown
woman who is a virgin, but sexually, emotionally I guess, I’m young in
many ways since I’ve never experienced those feelings.
Every time he looks at me, every time he does anything for me, and any
time he kisses my shoulder, my heart flutters. I don’t want to fight him
anymore. Fighting is exhausting. I don’t have it in me anymore. I’m tired. I
just want to be. I want to let go of all the anger and just be with him. I want
to know what it will be like to give in and give this relationship a real shot.
I’m tired of sleeping next to him and wishing I’d just roll over and cuddle
him. I want him to hold me and kiss my shoulder until I fall asleep. I want
to know what it will be like to embraced by him at night. I want to get to
know him more.
No more pranks.
I thought maybe, just maybe he was interested, and he says all the right
things, but maybe he is just being nice, so he doesn’t hurt my feelings? He
isn’t interested like that and maybe he only wants one thing from me.
Maybe he truly just wants us to have a strong relationship and to have a
baby together. Nothing more.
The thoughts hurt. A week ago I couldn’t stand him. I hated him. I
wanted nothing to do with Ari, but now after getting to know his easygoing
nature, he has softened me quickly and now the only person I’m fighting is
myself.
I close the door to the bedroom when a knock sounds. I jump, pressing a
hand to my chest. “I’ll be out later, Ari.”
“It’s me,” Matias says, his voice raspier than Ari’s.
Another difference I’ve noticed.
I notice every little thing.
“Now isn’t a good time, Matias.” I wipe my cheek and tilt my head
against the door, then glance around the room.
I’m surrounded by him. Ari is everywhere.
“I have a bag from my brother for you.”
The old me would have said, “I didn’t want shit from him” but I crave
anything from Ari, I’m finding. I’ve been burying the need for a few days
and it’s time I try to do something about it. I open the door, peeking out the
crack to see Matias standing there.
He lifts a bag and pushes the door open. “He said he ruined all of your
underwear and I don’t want to know what that means, so he replaced them
all.” Matias hands it to me and I take the bag from him. Even the bag is nice
and luxurious. A matte black with sturdy silk handles and on the sides it
says, “Silkies, made for the beautiful.”
“He replaced all of them?” I peek inside and see so many pairs of panties.
There’s way more than I need here. Different colors, black, pink, purple,
and textures. Silk and cotton. Some are lacy and some are plain. “Wow,
they are beautiful,” I say. “Tell him thank you for me.”
“You could tell him yourself,” he suggests, giving me a sad smile. “He
cares about you.”
I have to inhale a deep breath to stop myself from getting too emotional.
With a shake of my head, I stroll by him, placing my new bag of panties on
my side of the closet. “You don’t understand, Matias.”
“I do. I have seen it with my oldest brother Carmine. There is something
you need to know about my brothers. The tradition is old, and no one would
be mad if it didn’t get used again, but when we see something we want, we
crave, the tradition is the easiest thing to use to make sure we get it. He
didn’t have to give you the option to protect you. He saw you and saw an
opportunity. My brother is different from a lot of other men. It’s important
to him you like him before any…agreement is acted on. He is loyal. I know
this isn’t easy for you, but if you ever want to talk, I want you to know you
have a friend.”
I grab my right arm with my left hand and peer out the large window
overlooking the garden. It’s beautiful here. “I feel like I’ve pushed him
away. We haven’t known each other long, obviously, but I’ve spent my
entire time here fighting him, annoying him, pushing him away. I don’t
know what to do.”
“Tell him. Talk to him. Communicate. You haven’t pushed him away. Ari
loves a good fight. He loves a challenge. Really, don’t think too much about
it.” Matias’s phone rings and he reaches into his back pocket to grab it. “It’s
Gianni. I have to go. Think about what I said. I know it isn’t much, but I’m
serious. Ari isn’t the type of guy you push away. He’s steadfast. When he
plants his feet, he doesn’t move.”
“Thank you, Matias.”
He opens the door and goes to leave. “And if it’s any consolation, I think
you’re good for him and he’s good for you. The circumstances of how you
got here don’t matter. Not anymore.” He closes the door behind him,
leaving me to my thoughts.
My eyes begin to drop from the orgasms I’ve had today and the stress,
mostly the orgasms. Yawning, I stretch as I pick through the shirts in the
closet, deciding to steal one of his. I slip my dress off, then my ruined
panties, and tug his shirt over my head. I dig into the new bag and pull out a
pair of panties and there’s a card.
“Everything is washed and ready for you to wear, Tesoro.”
-Ari
I smile, loving the thought of something as simple as washing the clothes
for me. I tug on a pair and immediately my life is changed forever when it
comes to underwear because holy wow, these are comfortable.
Ari’s scent lingers on the shirt, and I pinch the material, bringing it to my
nose to inhale. God, he smells good. Climbing into bed, I grab his pillow
and hold it to my chest, his scent lulls me to sleep quickly, and my heart
finally feels like it’s at rest with the realization that I want to try to be Ari
Milazzo’s wife.
***
I don’t know when I wake up. The sun has gone down and the starry
night shines through the windows. My stomach grumbles, reminding me I
haven’t eaten all day and I toss the covers from my body and stretch. I feel
good. Now that I know my mind is made up about what I want, I think
things will be better now.
I just have to try. I have to put in more effort. This is my life now. This is
my reality and if I want to be honest, it could be a lot worse than being
hitched to the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.
My nerves flutter in my stomach when I stand, and his shirt falls to my
mid-thigh. I should put pants on, but maybe he’d like that I’m wearing his
shirt. With a mischievous smile on my face, I prance to the door, feeling
lighter than I have in a long time. I hum while I nearly skip to the kitchen.
When I’m there, I find it empty, and I hope it stays that way. I don’t want
anyone but Ari to see me like this. The large stainless-steel fridge is more
like an oversized closet with how big it is. I grab the fixings to make a
sandwich and place them on the counter, then snag the bread from the
pantry.
Lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise, hoagie seasoning and dressing, roast beef,
and honey ham, then topped with cheese make for the perfect sandwich. I
bite into it just as I hear a giggle coming from his office.
I know that giggle.
Any hope I had between us just plummeted. I take another bite of my
sandwich, unable to remove myself from this spot as I listen to her fawn
over my husband.
“I can’t believe you ripped your stitches,” she says a little too loudly.
“What were you doing?”
“None of your business,” he gruffs, his voice sounds like it did when he
grabbed my wrist and told me to get masturbating.
Is that what he is doing to her?
It would make sense. She’s pretty and wants him. She isn’t afraid to show
him either. What man wouldn’t be all over that?
I feel the sting behind my eyes, and I turn away, wiping my hands on my
shirt, and grab a glass, filling it with water from the sink. Leaning against
the counter, I hold onto it with one hand as I sip my water, washing down
any remaining crumbs in my mouth.
She laughs again and it’s a stab through the heart.
“Rosie?”
My whispered name in the darkness startles me and the water sloshes
over the rim of the glass.
Matias comes into view from the shadows, and I let out a relieved breath.
“What are you—”
I press my finger against my lips, pointing to Ari’s office just as another
high-pitched laugh fills the air.
His brows lift as he nods, scratching the back of his head as he takes the
spot next to me. “Ah,” he says unsurprised, but understanding. “Bothers
you?”
“You could say that,” I whisper, keeping my voice low so Ari doesn’t
hear me.
I don’t know why I’m still here, feet planted in the kitchen just listening
to them. I must be asking for punishment.
“If it makes you feel better, she isn’t here for that. She’s here to stitch up
his shoulder again.”
“Oh,” I mumble, tugging the shirt down so it doesn’t show anything.
Actually, I should go put on pants. It isn’t okay that I’m out here without
any on.
I snort out loud without meaning to. What does it matter? Ari doesn’t
want me. I could parade around naked, and it wouldn’t make a difference.
“How did he do that?” I question, not wanting to sound too interested so
I keep my voice monotone.
He crosses his arms and nudges me. “Because after you stormed out of
his office after your fight, he might have thrown a chair across the room. I
had to throw it away and Gianni had to call that lusty little nurse back.”
“You think she’s lusty?”
He laughs quietly, shoulders shaking up and down while he covers his
mouth. “No,” he winds down. “But you apparently do.”
Another giggle drifts through the office.
“I mean she’s practically throwing herself at him.”
“She is, which he will be annoyed about. He doesn’t like easy women.”
He eyes me, hoping I catch onto what he means but I don’t give away
anything. “He likes his women complicated. Like you, someone who
constantly fights him.”
“Not constantly,” I grumble, placing my cup in the sink.
“It isn’t what you think it is.” He grabs my arm before he opens the
fridge and grabs a beer. “Nice shirt by the way.”
“Matias,” I scold lightly, bowing my legs until my knees hit one another.
“I didn’t expect anyone in the kitchen.”
“You’re such a mess,” the nurse says loudly and my amusement from
Matias drifts from my face.
“It means nothing,” he whispers before leaving.
And I’m all alone again.
I walk around the island to the other side of the office and find the door
cracked. I shouldn’t peek. I should turn around and go back to his bed—our
bed—but I can’t seem to stop. I want to know if it’s just nothing. I want
peace of mind. I want to know if my new revelation is pointless and if I’m
just his incubator.
I peer in the crack, getting the perfect view of Ari. He’s leaning against
his desk, shirtless, and there’s a glass of wine in his hand. For some reason,
my eyes fall to his hand and I see his gold wedding band.
Something about that makes me feel safe.
“You weren’t wearing that last time.” Her fingers trace the band and I
have to curl my hands into fists, willing her to back off. “You’re married?”
He exhales, shoulders sagging as he takes a long swig of wine as if the
answer is so stressful he doesn’t want to reply.
“How long before you’re done?” he asks, not moving his hand away
from the nurse.
“Just a few more minutes. I’m thinking, if you aren’t married—” her
hand drifts down the middle of his chest, lower and lower until I have to
take a step away.
I can’t watch.
If I wasn’t so difficult, if I wasn’t so complicated, and if I wasn’t so
maddening maybe he’d be able to back away from her or admit he’s
married. I was kidding myself to think this could turn out to be a dream
marriage beneath the reality of our situation.
It hasn’t been that long since we made this agreement, and I thought
maybe we’d have more time. More time to get to know one another.
That’s where my naivety kicks in. That’s where I know nothing about
men because I’ve never been with a man. I’ve never been in love. And I
have no idea how to act.
With stupidity burning my feet, I sprint down the hall back to the room.
Careful for the door not to make a noise, I ease it shut.
My breaths come out fast and tears spill from my eyes. All the emotions
I’ve kept in break free like a dam. It hurts. Why does it hurt so much? It
feels like my heart is shattering or my soul is shredded. I run to the bed and
bury my face in my pillow, clutching it to my chest while I cry.
Everything I’ve ever held in over the years while supporting everyone
around bursts free. The complicated feelings I have for Ari rush with the
current of the water. As much as it feels good to let it all out, roaring anger
begins to bubble again, but it isn’t at the world this time.
It’s at me for allowing myself to be backed into a corner again and again.
For never sticking up for myself. For never going after what I want and for
always settling.
I roll out of bed and stuff my hand under the mattress, searching for the
stone. Finally, I feel the edges of the stone and pull it free, lifting it into the
air.
This is my opportunity. This is my chance.
This is my way out.
I run to the closet and look for some bags. There’s some luggage shoved
in the very back and I snag one.
Fuck the contract.
It’s time to do something for myself.
Chapter Sixteen
Ari
I ripped my stitches when Rosie left the office. I shouldn’t have lost my
temper. Now my healing time is going to take longer, and this nurse is too
forward. I don’t want her touching me like this. It makes my skin crawl and
my stomach roll with guilt as if I’m cheating on Rosie.
A woman who fucking hates me, but I’m loyal. I won’t fuck around on
my wife.
The nurse’s hand slides down my chest, lower and lower until my anger
gets the best of me, and I snatch her wrist, tossing it to the side.
“Do not touch me like that anymore,” I growl in warning. “You are here
to stitch up my shoulder. Nothing more. Nothing less. I am married. I will
not sleep with you. I want nothing to do with you. The only thing I want
from you is to get the fuck out of my house and never come back.”
“Mr. Milazzo—” she begins, probably to give a lame excuse.
I hold up my hand to stop her. “Get out. I do not want you. I haven’t
shown I want you. Your attempts are not wanted. I’m not sure how much
more obvious I can be. Matias!” I bark for my brother and the nurse hurries
to gather her belongings. The door swings open and Matias is standing
there. “Escort her off the property, please. She’s banished and is not
welcome to come back. If she tries—” I lock eyes with her as she lifts her
bag onto her shoulder “—Proceed with deadly force.”
“You heard the man,” Matias says, snagging her by her arm and dragging
her to the front door.
When she’s out of the room I hang my head, rolling it over my shoulders,
then stretching it left and right, letting out a groan when it pops. That nurse
was stressful and more inconvenient than this damn bullet wound in my
shoulder.
“She’s gone, Ari,” Matias informs me, and I nod, rubbing my eyes.
“Thank you.”
“What was that all about? She seemed nice enough.”
“She kept throwing herself at me. It’s unprofessional. I don’t want her
touch.” I rotate the wedding band on my finger, thinking about the one
woman I do want and can’t seem to have.
“Yeah, you’re going to want to go talk to Rosie. She seemed pretty upset
when she was in the kitchen earlier and overheard the nurse giggling as if
you were the funniest man alive.”
“Fuck. It was nothing like that. I swear. I wanted nothing to do with that
nurse.”
“I know that. I told her that, but I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong. She
seemed sad at the idea of you with the nurse.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I try to say lightheartedly but the hurt or hopelessness
seems to fracture the delivery.
“It’s true. She stayed in the kitchen for a while, just listening to what was
going on in here. From the outside, it sounded like exactly what she
thought. I knew better and I tried to tell her that for you.
“I appreciate it, Matias.”
“Really. Go to her. I’m going to go find Gianni. Have a good night,
brother.”
“You too,” I say, watching him go.
All I can hear now is my own breathing and as I study the room, my
attention falls to the cracked window from the chair I threw, which is
currently lying in pieces outside.
My entire body aches and my eyes sting with exhaustion, but I won’t go
to bed until I talk to my wife. My curious, stubborn, hard-headed,
impossible, slightly aggravating, beautiful wife. I wouldn’t have her any
other way, but I wish she’d trust me just a little.
Thinking about the nurse and how her hand drifted down my front, my
cock didn’t even stir, but the thought of Rosie doing that, trusting me
enough to take a chance on me has arousal searing my veins.
Matias is right. I need to go talk to her.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, I don’t know when it got so late, but I
rub my eyes, not wanting to sleep until I kiss my wife for the first time.
Jesus, I can’t believe we haven’t even kissed. It wasn’t part of the deal,
and she doesn’t have to, but god, I want to feel her lips beneath mine so
much that my chest pains with need. I walk out of the room; the living room
and kitchen are quiet. There’s a steady drip of water coming from the
faucet, and I walk to the sink to make sure it’s off.
That’s when I see the water glass in the sink, a ghost imprint of her lips
are on the rim. I pick it up, knowing the print was probably left behind from
the ChapStick I always see her putting on. I never thought I’d be jealous of
a glass but here I am, wanting to break the inanimate object because her lips
touched it.
I’m fucking ridiculous.
I put the glass back in the sink and head down the hall to where our room
is but stop just outside the door when I hear sniffling. Placing my ear
against the wood, I listen.
I hear sobs.
The kind that shakes the ground beneath your feet with how much pain is
being released with each tear that falls.
I press my forehead against the door, wondering when I’ve ever felt so
helpless. I’ve been in situations where I’ve shot, killed, stolen, and tortured,
yet all those things don’t compare to this. I don’t know how to help this
situation. I can’t kill anyone or do anything to make her feel better.
I stand here, listening to her cry, feeling out of my element.
I don’t know how to make this good for her. I’m going to guess her pain
is because of me, because of losing her family and being tied to me. There’s
a voice in the back of my head that says let her go. Give her a new identity
and send her to be with her brother. It would be easy. I could easily plan for
that. I did it for her parents and Caplan; why wouldn’t I be able to do it for
her too?
Because I don’t want to.
I’m a selfish bastard and I want her. She’s mine. She belongs here with
me. I know she does.
Sending her away doesn’t promise her safety but being with me does.
I place my hand on the doorknob and twist, only to find it locked. I
frown, then reach into my back pocket and pull out my wallet, managing to
slide a card out. I slide it into the crevice where the lock is and press it,
jiggling it up and down until I’m able to push the door open.
And what I see has me fuming and panicking.
She’s packing.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I raise my voice as I slam the
door behind me, locking it so no one can come in and ask what’s going on.
“I’m getting out of here. I’m done. I’m taking this stupid fucking stone
and I’m leaving. I don’t care what it costs me. You don’t need me,” she says
through a watery explanation, her throat becoming clogged as she tosses tshirts and panties in the suitcase.
“You aren’t leaving me.” In less than five large strides I’m in front of her,
grabbing her arm so she can’t pack the bag anymore. “You can’t leave me.”
“The hell I can’t.” She tries to rip out of my hold, but I hold on tight.
“Watch me.”
“I won’t be watching anything because you won’t be leaving. We made a
deal.”
“Screw your deal!” she shouts, shaking her head as she continues to
disappear into the closet only to come out with more stuff in her hands.
I snag the shirts away from her and hold them in the air.
“Don’t be like this. Just let me go,” she says tiredly, trying to reach the
shirts as I hold them above her head. “Ari.”
“No. Not until you explain to me what happened. You aren’t leaving me.”
I toss the shirts as hard as I can across the room and growl. “You. Can’t.
Leave me,” I roar, pounding my chest as if I’m some sort of animal.
She lifts her hands in the air. “Why are we even fighting, Ari? We are
fighting like a real married couple. We aren’t a real married couple. There is
no reason to fight like this. We hardly know one another. I think this deal
had good intentions but we both knew it wouldn’t work out in the end.”
“We are married. This is real. You think this—” I walk over to the dresser
and pluck the stone to hold it in the air. “You think this will save you? Do
you think this will protect you? It will get you killed even if you sell it. It is
nothing. It is worthless when it is compared to your life. Do you want to
know why this is wanted by Bianchi? Do you?”
I don’t give her time to answer.
“It’s an uncut black diamond. One this size goes for millions, Rosie. This
isn’t a get-out-of-jail-free card. It will kill you. The people who want this
will stop at nothing to make sure you’re dead, your family is dead, and
everything around you is ruined. And it probably doesn’t stop at Bianchi
wanting to find you. If anyone knows, if anyone sees you with it, they will
try to take it from you. It isn’t worth it. You want millions? I have it. I’ll
give it to you.” I toss the diamond on the bed, and she gasps, watching as it
flies through the air, and lands safely on the mattress.
There was a moment of fear in her eyes when she thought it wouldn’t be
safe. Even I wouldn’t destroy a stone this valuable, no matter how much I
want to at this moment.
“I don’t want your money,” she whispers, staring at me with those
fucking eyes I’m obsessed with. A tear breaks free and rolls down her
cheek. “I don’t care about your money, Ari.”
“Then what? What do you care about? At this point, I’m wondering if
you care about anything at all. You hate me, right? You can’t fucking stand
me. Do you wish you never signed the contract? Am I that bad, Rosie? Just
tell me and I can move on.”
“You’ve already seemed to do that,” she spits hatefully and then covers
her mouth as if she didn’t mean to say that. “Never mind.” Rosie tries to
walk by me to get to the closet and I lift her suitcase from the end of the bed
and empty it on the floor.
“No. No more packing. No more running away from me. What did you
mean by that? Tell me.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
I wrap an arm around her waist and spin her arm, yanking her to me until
our bodies collide. A soft puff of air escapes her from the collision and her
eyes slowly drag up my body until they latch onto my face.
Fuck.
I do love it when she looks at me like that. It’s the one time I get to see
how she wants me. When all the walls come crumbling down and all that’s
left is sexual tension.
“It matters. It matters to me.”
“I don’t hate you,” she begins, still trying to wiggle free of my hold. “It’s
impossible to hate you, Ari. I’ve tried and I realized I wasn’t even mad at
you but at myself. You don’t understand how life has been for me. It’s been
a constant fight. I’ve worked myself to the bone. I’ve sacrificed everything
for everyone and not once have I ever done anything for myself. So you
were my outlet for all my rage.” The end of her sentence is drowned out by
anger. “And I’ve realized that I’m done being used and walked all over. I’m
done. I have no more fight left in me, Ari. So just let me go so you can get
on with your life. Worrying about me is the last thing you need to do and
the last thing you want to do. You have other priorities and that’s fine.” She
presses her hand against her chest as if she can understand my position and
responsibilities.
“My only priority is you,” I state and the fight that was gone just got
ignited because a storm is brewing fast in those blue irises.
And I’m on the receiving end of whatever destruction she will bring.
Chapter Seventeen
Rosie
“Don’t lie to me,” I bite, his hand on my hip tightening when I try to pull
free.
Even with one good arm, he is stronger than me, and the irrational part of
me wants to see what he can do with all this strength.
“I’m not lying to you. Everything I’ve ever done so far is to prove how
much I care about you. Every move I make. Every decision. It’s all about
protecting you.”
I cock my head at him, wondering how he came up with that conclusion
when he lets women touch him. “Do you think because you’re a powerful
man you can have all the women in the world? I didn’t sign up to be a wife
who gets cheated on and forgotten. You can either have that nurse or me,
but you can’t have both. Remember the contract,” I remind him of the
clause that states if either of us commits adultery, the contract is void.
“You think I want her? That nurse?”
“I saw you,” my shoulders sag. “I saw her touching you and not just to
stitch you up.”
“Then you must have missed when I grabbed her hand and told her to
stop. You must have missed when I told Matias to escort her off the
property. She’s banished. I don’t want her. I’ve never wanted her. I only
wanted my shoulder stitched. And don’t remind me of the clause in the
contract. I’m the one who put it there. I’m the one who wanted to make sure
you knew I was serious. Whatever you thought you saw, you didn’t. I am
not interested in her. If you want, I can call her over so I can tell her in front
of you.”
“I’d prefer if she never stepped foot in this house again.”
“Careful, Tesoro. You almost sound jealous.”
I bend down to snatch a shirt off the floor and throw it at him as hard as I
can, then bend down and pick up another, tossing that one too. “I am not
jealous.”
“You’re jealous,” he grins with too much realization. “You don’t like
other women touching me. You don’t like other women over here.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I deny him because it’s the
only defense I have. I continue to pick up my clothes off the floor that he
manages to somehow scatter across the room as he threw my bag. “I’m not
jealous.”
“No? Then you wouldn’t care if I called her to take her up on her offer
for a good time? Maybe I’ll fuck her right on my desk, Rosie. I’ll tug those
little scrub bottoms down and enjoy when she moans as I slide into her.”
I don’t know what gets into me. I lose my mind. I’m so full of rage at the
thought, I see white, not red, as if I’m blinded. For the second time, I slap
him across the face. The skin on my palm burns and instant regret sets in
my gut. His cheek turns a light shade of pink, but he doesn’t seem bothered.
If anything, he seems pleased.
I swallow my negative feelings and tears drop to my cheeks. “I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He rubs his cheek. “I find comfort in your touch whether it
stings or not.”
“I won’t do it again,” I promise. “The thought of you with her like that,
hearing those words from you, imagining her getting what she wants, it
makes me crazy. You make me crazy. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you
for that because no one makes me crazy like you do.”
“Just admit it, Rosie. You care about me. You’re jealous of the nurse. All
you have to do is admit it and we can move on with your punishment.”
I’m halfway bent over to pick up another shirt. “Punishment?”
“I said if you were to slap me again, I’d bend you over my lap.”
I snort in disbelief. “You aren’t spanking me.”
“Try me,” he growls low and deep.
“If I admit I’m jealous and I care, can you not spank me?”
“I’ll take it under consideration.”
I exhale, letting go of my pride and toss the clothes I have in my arms on
the floor. “I care, okay? I’m jealous. I’m so jealous, I can’t stand the
thought of another woman touching you. I hated that nurse for putting her
hands on you, even if some of her touch was for medical purposes. I saw
how she looked at you, as she flirted. She made it known she wanted you
and it made me angry. I don’t know how to do those things. I am not a flirt.
I don’t know how to tell you I want you and that I want to give this a real
shot. I’ve never been in a relationship before, and even though this one
started with demands which is a little fucked up, it’s the only source of a
relationship I have to go on to learn. My parents aren’t good examples.
They hate each other and they are only together because they have spent so
many years together. So this is all new to me. I’m learning. And I don’t like
this nurse because she’s someone you can easily have when I’m nothing but
complicated.”
He stands there, staring at me without saying a word.
Seconds turn to minutes, and I shuffle on my feet, needing to do
something. I don’t like making myself feel vulnerable. I have only been
able to count on myself for being strong and being strong for everyone else.
Feeling weak isn’t an option.
Who am I kidding? Weak is all I am when Ari is around. He makes my
defenses crumble.
“You need me,” he says with slight realization.
“I do not need you.” I almost sound offended. “I’d be just fine on my
own. I’m going to take that diamond, sell it, make money, buy my own
identity, and live a life of luxury. I can do all of that without you. I don’t
need you,” I reiterate.
The wide dimension of his hand wraps around my throat while I’m
picking up the last of my clothes and he forces me to straighten. Heat and
anger swirl in his eyes, but the hand around my neck, while firm, is gentle.
“Admit you need me,” he demands, the look of desperation for the truth
maddening his eyes. “Admit it.”
“No.”
I gasp when he yanks me to him, his lips so close to mine, I can feel the
softness of them brushing against my own.
“Admit. It.”
My eyes flutter shut, and I tilt my head back when he groans my name so
painfully, I almost feel bad for teasing him.
Almost.
“I don’t need you. I’d be fine without you,” I lie to him. I don’t mean a
damn word I say because I know without him, I’d most likely be dead, but
the most important reason is that I’ve grown to care about him.
He pushes me back and I have no choice but to walk while he strides
forward, his hand still on my neck. My back hits the wall and a soft breath
escapes from the force.
“You’ve never needed anyone like you need me.” A feral expression
morphs his face as he speaks the truth.
He’s right.
His lips crash down on mine in hunger and domination. The hand on my
throat tightens as he kisses me an inch within my life only to breathe it back
into me. He breaks the kiss and both of us gasp for air as our eyes meet. An
unspoken language passes between us, something that settles all the will to
fight in my bones and to only give in to him.
He dips his head again, capturing my lips. He groans down my throat,
one hand holding onto my ass to haul me forward against him. I wrap my
arms around his neck and savor our first kiss.
Finally.
And he feels better than I ever could have dreamed.
“Fuck,” he gasps, digging his fingers into the flesh of my ass. “You’re
wearing my shirt,” he whispers, sliding his hand under the loose material.
“Only my shirt.” His hand covers one cheek, his fingers curling to get
another palmful. “You drive me insane.” His hand slides to cup the back of
my head and grip me by the thick of my hair before owning my lips again.
“Open for me, Tesoro. Let me have that wicked tongue you like to lash at
me.”
I do as he says, parting my lips, and he gently slides his tongue across
mine. I whimper, holding him tighter while I do the same to him. God, he
tastes good. My tongue teases his, wrapping and dancing, mimicking
everything we want to do with our bodies as our lips slide against one
another.
He spins me around and lays me on the bed. I sink into the mattress, the
fluffy comforter nearly engulfing me, but Ari fixes that as he climbs over
me. He wraps one of my legs around his hips, and the other arm falls next
to my head as he lowers himself on my body.
“Your shoulder.” I drift my hand over the nasty wound, the area swollen
and irritated from having to be stitched again.
“I don’t give a fuck about my shoulder. Not when I finally have you
under me.”
My fingers slide just below the wound and the flicker of jealousy swirls
inside me like a newly lit candle. “I care. Especially if it means that nurse
has to come back here,” I say, drifting my finger down his chest.
He turns left, kissing me, then right, kissing me again. “I love it when
you’re jealous, Tesoro. It means you care.” His finger traces down my jaw,
then around my lips that still tingle from his kiss. “And you don’t have to
worry. She won’t be coming back.”
I grab him by the back of the neck and bring him down on me again,
needing to kiss him, needing to pour everything I feel inside him so he can
feel me—the real me—the one I keep hidden from the world, but Ari
somehow manages to see.
He rocks against me, his hard cock pressing against my bare pussy and
the only thing keeping us separated are his pants. I groan when he rubs over
my clit, tightening my hold around his neck until my nails bite into his skin.
He feels so good.
Ari sucks my lip into his mouth, letting it go with a soft plop as his hand
drifts up my shirt, cupping my breast and I whimper.
“So fucking perfect for me. You fit just right.” He lifts, tugging the shirt
over my head.
I’m naked.
I’ve never been naked in front of anyone before. I feel a little bashful.
Crossing my arms over my chest to hide myself, he snags each wrist and
pins them to the side.
“Don’t you ever hide yourself from me. You’re the prettiest fucking thing
I’ve ever seen, the most seductive, and the art I want to appreciate. You are
never to hide from me. Do you understand? I want to always see you.” He
dips his head down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. His wet tongue swirls
over the beaded peak and I moan, never having felt that before. “Fuck, I
love how responsive you are to me.” He blows cold air onto my sensitive
bud, only to kiss across my chest to nibble the other before sucking that one
as well.
“Ari,” I moan, the ache between my legs growing.
He cups my tits again, pinching the nipples between his fingers before
capturing my mouth mid-moan. He thrusts, the hard ridge of his cock
expertly grazing over my clit with every stroke. A fever possesses me, a
feeling of urgency brewing in the depths of my stomach.
“So good for me,” he whispers, praising me gently as he continues the
steady rocking pace. “I can’t wait to be inside you. I can’t wait to officially
make you mine. You want that, don’t you? You want to be mine.”
“Yes,” I admit, dizzy from how good he is making me feel.
He bites down my neck, sucking a small section of skin into his mouth
until it burns. He lets go, licking it with his tongue to soothe it.
“Do you feel how fucking hard you make me? Do you feel how much I
need you? I wake up like this every fucking day and go to sleep like this
every night, aching for you. I don’t know why it took you so long to realize
it’s me who belongs inside you.”
Again, we get lost in a savage kiss, messy and uncoordinated because we
want each other so badly.
“You’re soaking my pants, Rosie. Is your pretty little cunt weeping for
me? Do you need me, Rosie? Am I making you ache?”
His fingers slide down my body, slow as torture, the one skilled fingertip
tickling my ribcage on his way over my quivering stomach.
This is when I need to tell him. This is when he needs to know I’m a
virgin.
But when his hand cups me and his thumb rolls over my clit, what he
needs to know is forgotten and replaced with hot, exploding pleasure.
Chapter Eighteen
Ari
Oh my god, she’s so fucking wet.
I push back until I’m settled on my knees, the stitches in my arm
threatening to rip again, but I don’t care. Nothing will stop me from
experiencing this moment, her body, the feel of her heat dripping onto my
fingers, hearing her moans and cries. Nothing but death would render me.
Somewhere deep in the back of my mind, an alarm is ringing, the one
that makes me good at my job, and it is reminding me that this is nothing
but a contractual obligation being filled, the transaction finally coming to
fruition.
I knew better.
I know the truth. I can’t lie to myself and if I’m honest, the moment I
stopped lying to myself is when I walked through the door of O’Connor’s
General Store. I wanted her for myself then and I want her for myself now.
“Ari,” she gasps my name and it’s heaven, a gorgeous song of harmonies.
I press my palm against her clit and her back arches, arms spread out
across the bed, her body a cross and I’m the fire that’s going to burn her at
the stake. Her fingers clutch the comforter, curling into tight fists until I
wonder if she’ll rip the blanket.
I take in her entire body, writhing and her breaths soft whimpering pants
as I play with her clit. “Look at you,” I praise her, my cock straining against
my pants. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this. Your anger seems to have
finally been silenced. Is this what I have to do to you, Tesoro? In order to
get you to shut up, do I need to worship your body?”
She tilts her head back, stretching the soft column of her neck as she
concedes to me easily. “Yes,” she whispers, her voice rising at the tail-end
of the one-syllable word as I sink two fingers inside her. “Oh my god.
Fuck!” she curses, looking down to watch me slide in and out.
“What did I say about cursing at me?” I remind her, stopping my
movements. She grinds her hips, fucking herself on my fingers to get where
she wants to be. I press my hand against her stomach to stop her. “You’ll
take what I give you and you aren’t ready to receive anything. Not until I
say.”
“Ari, please,” she begs, cupping her tits, kneading them with her fingers
until the soft mounds are spilling between her fingers. “You feel so good.
Please don’t stop.”
“You’re so agreeable when you’re like this, Rosie,” I say, gliding one
hand down her thigh, then push her knee down until it hits the bed.
The view is spectacular.
I bite my lip, witnessing a dream coming true. I pull my arm back, my
fingers showing her sheen and then disappearing to my knuckle when I slip
forward.
“It’s the only time I’ll be agreeable for you, but once you stop touching
me, game over,” she warns, eyes rolling to the back of her head when I curl
the two fingers inside her.
“What a hardship,” I thrust forward “To have to always have you on your
back.”
I slip the digits out, then suck them into my mouth, savoring her
sweetness. “As sweet as ever.” It takes me back to when she fingerfucked
herself in the chair in my office.
Sliding back, I take my pants off and let them fall to the floor in a useless
pile. My cock slaps against my stomach and I wrap my hand around the
length, giving it a long firm stroke. Her eyes settle on me, and they widen.
Fear and excitement swirl in those conniving depths.
“I won’t fuck you tonight.” All I want to do is show her how good we
can be together, but I’m not sure if she’s ready for that. I’ll take this at her
pace. There’s no question that I want her. My skin already feels tight. Her
body is portal of addiction and I’ve jumped in without remorse, my body
now dependent on the touch of her skin and the whisp of her breath.
A fucking vixen.
“I don’t want to fuck you anyway.” She rears up fast, her tongue flicking
out until she licks the tip of my cock unexpectedly. “It’s the last thing I
want to do.” She peers up at me through those thick, dark lashes, her eyes
innocent and curious, eager to please.
Oh, I really am obsessed with her like this.
She’s lying. She wants me, wants us, but what’s us without a little
banter?
I bet if I told her to lie back and be quiet, she would. I think my wife
might be a little bit submissive in the bedroom. Not by much because she’s
too fucking mouthy for that which is just how I like her.
“Suck my cock, Tesoro. Let me see what that mouth can really do when
it’s full.” I slide the sensitive tip over her lips, teasing her. The pre-come
becomes gloss and she flicks her tongue out to taste it.
An unsure look lightens the fever brightening her cheeks.
“I need to tell you something.” She lies down on her back and turns her
head to look away.
I climb over her, my cock settling between her legs as if it is made just
for her. Not liking the sudden nervousness instead of the uncontrollable
desire she felt seconds ago, I force her to look at me by gripping her chin.
“Talk to me, Rosie,” I keep the demand gentle.
“I’m afraid if I’m honest, you won’t want me anymore.”
I scoff with a crooked smile, then bend down and kiss her. “There’s
nothing you can say that would ever make me not want you. I’ve wanted
you the moment you walked into the club. I knew you had to be mine. I
want that to happen in every way, but it can’t if you don’t communicate.”
She nods, staring at my chest and her finger gently traces the wound
where her small knife landed. It’s not as tender as the gunshot wound on the
other shoulder, but it still hurts when I overstretch it.
“I’m sorry.” Her brows dip as she analyzes the stab wound.
“It’s okay,” I forgive her easily. “I understand why you did it. Now, what
is it that you need to tell me.” I settle even further between her legs by lying
my body on top of hers, the head of my cock already pressing against the
entrance, and I have to calm myself down when I feel her heat.
Wrapping her arms around my neck, she kisses the side of my throat,
with a feather of pressure that has me groaning for her. She’s tentative,
hesitant, and it makes the softness of her lips feel better than any other pair
I’ve ever felt.
She gets to my ear, sucking the lobe into her mouth and a shiver rolls
down my spine. She has easily found one of my hot spots. Her breath is the
sound of a distant ghost in the dark breezing against my ear. My cock slips
from the tight hole of her entrance, gliding through her pussy lips until I rub
over her clit.
“Fuck, you feel so goddamn good.” I wrap my arms around her and hold
her tight, squeezing her until I think I might be hurting her, then let her go
before I can do any real damage.
“I’ve never done this before.”
I freeze, slowly pulling away so I can see her face. Before I can think, my
hand is wrapped around her throat again and I lift her by it until she’s mere
inches away from my face. A possessiveness rolls through me and never
leaves. A growl reverberates in my chest, rumbling low as if I have an
animal hiding inside me. She gasps for breath as I tighten my hold, my cock
pressing against her clit as she’s pulled closer to me.
The pleasure I’m feeling can’t be described.
“No one else has touched you?”
She holds onto my wrist and shakes her head.
“No other man has fucked you?”
“No,” she rasps, her voice strangled from the pressure of my hand.
“No man has ever tasted you?” I’m about to lose my mind. Every ounce
of control I’ve held onto with her is hanging by a thread—a weak stranded
thread.
I thrust my cock against her clit, igniting a groan from her, and I look
down to watch the flared wide tip peek from below as I rut over her
sensitive clit.
She cries out for me.
For. Me.
“No man has tasted me,” she finally answers.
I groan, rolling my head over my shoulders as I try to calm down. All her
reactions, all of her moans, all of her fight, and her uncertainty is mine. It
all makes sense.
“And no other man will ever touch you again,” I warn her, lying her back
down until I’m settled over her again. My face is less than an inch from
hers and I make sure she can see the intensity in my eyes, shining bright
like a fucking beacon so she can’t miss how serious I am. “You are mine,
Rosie. You’re mine.” My fingertips graze the soft curve of her jaw and I
kiss her lips, the only man to have ever done so, and I whisper over them,
“Tell me you’re mine.”
I hate to sound so desperate for her to admit it, to bend to my will, to give
into her feelings for me. While her feelings might be messy, complicated,
and tangled, they are still for me. Once I grab onto them, detangle each
knot, I’ll steal her emotions for my own and I’ll never give them back.
“I’m yours,” she answers without making me wait, without torturing me
with some smartass remark.
It’s how I know her defenses are down and she’s at her most vulnerable.
How she feels now is how she feels about me, whether she likes it or not.
Her lips are dangerous, pulling me in as if she’s a siren singing a sensual
song and I’m a sailor being lured into clutches right before she shows no
mercy.
“I’ll take care of you,” I whisper between kisses. “But I still won’t fuck
you.”
“Ari,” her tongue twirls with mine as if she’s trying to taste all my
secrets. “Please. I’m ready. I want this. I want you. I’m done fighting you.
Let me feel my husband.” Rosie reaches down between us and grips my
cock, a little too hard and I hiss in pain. She lets go, an embarrassed red tint
taking over her face. “It’s okay. Hey, it’s okay,” I say, taking her hand again
and bringing it back to my cock. “I’ll teach you, Tesoro.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ve never—”
“—I know,” I growl in delight. “And I love that.” I wrap my hand around
hers, carefully easing her fingers around my cock. I continue to add
pressure until it feels so fucking good, I’m about to come. “Don’t move
though. Don’t stroke me. I need a minute.”
“You do?” It’s adorable when she sounds surprised. Her eyebrows raise
and her voice tilts with how absurd it must sound that I have no control with
her.
“I do.” I swallow, tilting my head back and taking a large breath. “If you
stroke me, if you move your hand, I’m going to come, and I don’t want to
just yet.”
“Already? Aren’t men supposed to boast about how long they last?” she
teases, staring curiously at my cock and I can tell she’s thinking about
moving her hand. It’s like telling someone not to look and they can’t help
but to turn around and make it obvious.
“Something you need to know about me, Tesoro,” I lift her chin with my
finger. “I’m sensitive. Very sensitive, so yes, I come quickly, but I don’t
flag. I stay hard and I can keep going, going, and going until you can’t take
anymore.”
She swallows, lips parting as she inches closer to me. “So if I…lick,” her
tongue flicks over the tip and I groan, burying my hand in her hair. “Will
that make you come?”
“Stop testing me,” I grit, yanking her closer until the wide crown touches
her lips.
She smirks. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” Her confidence wavers and
she takes a deep breath, then she wraps those pink lips around me, having
me curl over her and burying my hands in her hair.
“Fuck, you feel good.” I squeeze my eyes shut, relishing her touching me
at last, and that’s when she sinks down further. She hasn’t even done
anything, not really, and already I want to lose control. Leaning back, I
gather her hair in my hands watch as her mouth parts, her lips stretching to
accommodate my girth. “That’s it. You’re doing such a good job,” I praise,
wanting her to know how good she is making me feel.
She hums, hollowing her cheeks to suck me down further and I hit the
back of her throat. It’s all it takes for me to lose it. I don’t warn her. My
orgasm hits me hard and quick. It’s intense, blurring my vision as I pour
stream after stream into her mouth.
“That’s it. Oh, fuck yes.” I watch every expression cross her face as she
tastes come for the first time. She whimpers, sucking me deeper and harder,
swallowing every drop I give. “Such a filthy little mouth finally being put
to good use.” I yank her head back, swooping down to capture her mouth. I
don’t let her breathe. I’m too desperate to taste myself on her tongue.
I push her back and her eyes fall to my cock. I’m still hard just like I
promised I’d be.
“Was that okay?” she whispers as I kiss down her body.
“Obviously,” I smirk against the smooth skin of her stomach. “Just
knowing it was you made it feel better than anything I’ve ever felt,” I say
honestly, my lips grazing her ribs and she gasps, burying her hands in my
hair. “You were very good for someone who has never done it before. Next
time though, I’m going to fuck your face until you choke on me.”
“Ari,” she groans at the same time I lick down her stomach.
“You like the sound of that, don’t you? You want to be my toy, Tesoro?
Whenever I want, wherever we are, I’ll push you to your knees and make
you suck my cock or maybe I’ll just bend you over the nearest surface and
fuck you.”
“Yes! I want that.” Her body doesn’t stop wiggling, her hips swaying and
rocking, doing their damnedest to try and get relief between her legs. She
can’t stay still. Every sway of her body has me gliding my hand up her
curves, clutching the soft mounds in my hand.
Kissing the apex of her thighs, the tip of my tongue creates a trail down
until I’m settled right where I want to be. The sheets against my hot, aching
cock feel good. The rustling movement adds just enough pressure to me to
keep me on edge.
“Such a pretty girl,” I croon, blowing cool air against her shining clit, her
entire pussy slick. I part her lips, admiring her, wondering how I got so
lucky to be the first here.
And last.
I’ll make damn sure of that.
“Please,” she begs me again, her fingers pinching the blanket for
leverage.
My mouth waters as I lean forward. She’s sweet as I take the first taste
and like the feral beast I am for her, I need more. I need to be closer. I latch
an arm around her hip and yank her closer to my mouth. I don’t want to be
able to breathe. I want to struggle for air as I eat this delicious cunt. I growl
in victory, feeling like I slayed five hundred men to have the honor of
experiencing my virgin wife.
She’s sugar, a burst of sweetness giving me more energy. The more I
have, the more vigorous I become. I lift her off the bed, lost in consuming
her, diving my tongue into her depths while my free hand plays with her
clit. The sounds coming from her fuel me, the kind that are loud and hurt
the throat from the power she uses. She’s never felt this before, so it only
makes sense for pleasure to be heightened.
Oh, it is fucking beautiful, and I never want to stop.
Lying her back down, I remove my tongue and suck on her clit, plunging
my finger inside her hole. I finger fuck her, hard and unforgiving. I curl my
fingers, rolling her clit between my teeth to give her an edge of pain and she
cries out, grabbing my face to grind her hips against my face.
I hum in approval, wanting her to wrap her legs around my neck and
fucking strangle me if it means being able to taste her orgasm.
“Ari. Ari, I’m going…I’m going to. I….” she stumbles over her words
and her body jerks, her fingers grasp my hair, and she finally tenses. “Ari!”
she cries my name and I reach down to wrap a hand around my cock,
squeezing it hard like she did to stop myself from coming at the sound of it.
She has me too wound up. I’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact I
could keep going. If anything, it’s always worked in my favor because I can
last for women to have multiple orgasms. It’s a burden I’m more than
willing to bear.
Especially with Rosie. I’m never going to want to stop fucking her.
Living inside her will be my new job, being buried inside her in the
morning, afternoon, and night. Any free fucking moment I have, I’ll be
buried to the hilt because I refuse not to feel the luxury of her body.
Unless she says no.
“You taste so fucking good.” I kiss her clit, easing my fingers from her,
and climb over her, pressing my fingers between her lips. “Don’t you
agree?”
She doesn’t do anything at first. She’s shocked, but then that greedy
tongue wraps around me, sucking her come from my fingers.
I yank them from her mouth and cup the back of her head, pressing our
lips together in a passionate kiss. We roll on the bed, and she tries to
overpower me, like the brat that she is, but I pin her against the bed, my
cock pressed against her. All it would take is one push, one thrust, and she’d
be mine.
“Ari,” she whispers.
I lift her leg around my hip and situate, waiting for her to say something.
I need confirmation. Fuck, she already feels so good. She’s wet, hot, and
every moment I’m not inside her, I ache a little more.
My hand slides to her ass and squeezes, a moan spilling from her swollen
lips. “I thought you didn’t want to fuck me,” I state, repeating what she told
me earlier.
“I changed my mind.” Her nails gently scrape down my chest.
I curl over her, staring into her eyes and our breaths are heavy with
anticipation. My forehead is hot, a sheen of sweat taking over my entire
body and beading just above my brows. I might be experienced but this is
different. I’ve fucked plenty of women but none of them were my wife who
I’m about to feel for the first time.
“Eyes on me. Do not close them.”
“Why?” she gasps as I begin to inch in, spreading her virgin cunt with
my cock.
“Because I want to see every expression that crosses your face the deeper
I am inside you.” I push forward and both of us moan when I hit the barrier.
She whimpers, clenching around me naturally.
I grumble her name in warning. “Rosie.”
“You’re so big,” she winces. “Just give me a minute.”
“The more you talk like that—” I bite where her shoulder and neck meet,
not too hard, but enough to let out my frustrations as I hold my orgasm as
bay.
She giggles, nibbling my earlobe and I shiver.
“You’re trouble.”
“You love it.”
“I do,” I reply, wanting her to understand how serious I am.
I press forward, claiming her at last, and while she cries out in pain,
raking her nails down my back, I groan in pleasure. Pressing my forehead
against hers, I hold her close, waiting for her to relax.
“You’re doing so good, Tesoro.” I kiss the side of her neck, making my
way across her jaw. “Look at you, taking my cock like you were made to. I
know it hurts.” I skim my knuckles up and down her side, then decide to
focus on something else to take her mind off the pain. Her nipples are tight,
a perfect light dusty pink shade and I pinch them between my fingers,
tugging lightly until the grasp her cunt has around my cock loosens as she
groans. “Oh, good girl,” I praise her.
“Ari.”
The way she says my name softens my soul. She makes it sound as if I’m
the most important person in the world—the only one in her world that can
make her feel better.
Usually, my sexual conquests with women are quick, emotionless, and
get the job done. I never cared to keep going with other partners. It wasn’t
often I ever wanted to come more than once. I only ever wanted to scratch
an itch, but with Rosie it’s different. I never want to stop. I never want to
leave. Her wild personality has set its roots deep inside me and has taken
over my veins. She’s spread throughout me, her presence growing every
day, and I know if she ever decided to leave, nothing would ever grow in
her place.
And while I’ve softened for her, I’m more protective and murderous too.
I have more to protect now. I have more to kill for and I won’t ever be
afraid to spill blood if it means keeping my wife safe in my arms.
I ease out slowly, glancing down to see the tiniest hint of blood. The sight
of it has me wanting to lose control and fuck her so hard the headboard
breaks. If it was anyone else, any other woman, I would have without care,
but I don’t want to hurt Rosie. She’s too important to me.
“Okay?” I sound hoarse as if I just smoked a pack of cigarettes after
drinking whiskey for hours.
“More than,” she groans, closing her eyes from the pleasure.
I snap my hips, driving forward which forces her eyes open at the same
time. “What did I say?” I settle on top of her and squeeze her throat. “Look.
At. Me.” I thrust my hips again, my cock plummeting into her. She’s mine
now.
Her lips part as erotic whimpers spill from her, and she holds onto me,
her fingers digging so hard into my arms, I know I’ll have bruises. The
wounds on my shoulders sting but the pain isn’t enough for me to stop.
“Ari, oh, you feel so good. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
She seems so vulnerable. Every wall she’s created to keep me out has
fallen and I plan to burrow my way in and never leave. I’ll break her walls
every time and be there for them when they crumble so I can hold her in
victory. She’s protective of herself. Always has been and I bet she always
will be. It’s what makes her so strong but in this moment? It’s different.
She trusts me to take care of her.
I’m her protector now. “Fuck, Rosie. Your little cunt feels so good,
Tesoro. I’m going to fill it up over and over again. You’re going to love it,
aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she hisses, stretching her neck to the side and I kiss the sensitive
side of her throat.
The familiar tingle threatens my cock, my orgasm growing with every
stroke I give her. I groan into her ear, a bit breathless, letting her hear how
good she makes me feel.
“Rosie! Fuck.” I lift onto one hand, pounding relentlessly into her while
my orgasm crashes through me. I plant myself as deeply as I can, filling her
for the first of many times.
And I keep going, fucking my wife through my come until she’s crying
out for me, her muscles tightening around my cock.
She sags against me, her entire body shaking.
I flip her onto her stomach and drive into her again, my come making a
mess between us, and I lift her head by her hair to smugly whisper in her
ear, “I told you, I’m far from being done with you.”
Chapter Nineteen
Rosie
I moan still half asleep, dreaming of all the ways Ari kept me up all night.
He wasn’t lying when he said he could keep going and not once did he flag.
We were done when I was done and even then, his hard cock pressed
against my back all night as he held me.
Another pleasurable wave crashes through me and I open my eyes, the
sleep still blurring my vision. I look down to see Ari between my legs, his
eyes watching me as he feasts.
“Good morning,” he mumbles against me, his lips shining from his
attempts to wake me up. I’d call it successful. “I couldn’t wait to taste you,
Tesoro. I hope you can forgive me,” he says, spreading my pussy so get a
better view of my clit. “I couldn’t resist.” He sucks my clit into his mouth
which has me arching my back off the bed.
“Ari,” I slur his name, half with lust, half from being half asleep still.
He hooks his hands under my knees and yanks me closer. My ass presses
against his chest while he holds me up by the thick of my ass, gripping each
cheek as hard as he can. He growls against me, the vibrations adding to his
sinful lashes of his tongue against me.
I’ve never thought sex could feel so good. I’m starting to think it doesn’t
with just anybody, and it’s because I’m with Ari. Any other man wouldn’t
have cared to make me come so many times. No other man would care
about my pleasure so much or how I’m doing. They would have only cared
about getting themselves off and I would have been just another woman
added to the disappointed list of women left in need.
Ari’s arm wraps around my waist and he flips us. He’s on his back and
I’m straddling his face.
“Sit,” he demands, the whispered word breezing against me.
I grab the headboard, staring down at him like he has lost his mind.
“What? No, Ari. I don’t want to hurt you.” He’s lost his mind. I can’t put
my entire weight on his face. I look down, noticing the humor dancing in
his eyes as his fingers curl around my thighs and jerk me down. “Ari,” I try
to protest, lifting myself off him. “You won’t be able to breathe.”
“That’s the point, Rosie. Sit on my face and don’t you dare move until
you come.”
“I—I don’t know. I’ll suffocate you.”
“God, yes. Please, fucking take all the air from my lungs.” He yanks me
down again, his mouth connecting to me again.
“Oh god,” I groan, tossing my head back and grind against him, wanting
more.
He moans too, liking my entire weight on him. I stare down, rocking my
hips back and forth. He looks so damn good. His blazing blue eyes roll to
the back of his head as he rolls my clit with his tongue. I tighten my hold on
the headboard and watch bliss take over what I can see of his face. His
veins protrude in his arms the tighter he digs his fingers into my thighs, and
I see small bruises in other spots from last night.
Something about that, something about him leaving his mark on me
because he lost control brings me closer to orgasm. His palms scratch
across my skin as they move to my back, gliding until he can grip onto my
ass again. He helps me rock, moving me faster, grinding my pussy against
his face until his nose is swiping along my clit while his tongue dives inside
me.
“Ari. Oh, fuck. Oh, god. I’m close. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop,” I
chant, fucking his face as if I would his cock. My other hand slaps against
the headboard and I move against Ari with so much force, the mattress bed
begins to slam against the wall.
Loud thuds sound every other second and when I look down again, his
eyes are locked onto my tits, watching them bounce. It’s as if he can’t help
himself. His hand slithers around my body and takes one into his hand, then
rolls the nipple between his fingers which causes an electric current to bolt
through me veins, and I come.
My orgasm has me rolling my hips slower as if I’m trying to push it
down Ari’s throat to make him choke on it. He groans, his tongue spearing
me quicker as he drinks me down.
“Ari,” I slur his name, drunk off him. I try not to focus on his wedding
ring biting into my skin, but it’s too difficult. My heart surges with
excitement and happiness knowing this man belongs to me.
I slip from him, straddling him, and press my wet pussy against his big
cock. His lips and chin shine from me and I lift, reaching behind me to
guide is cock to my entrance when he stops me.
“You’re sore,” he says, his chest rising a falling from nearly suffocating
to death.
“Ari, I’m fine. I want to. I want you.” I try again but his hold is stronger
than the attempt I use to get out of it.
“And I took you multiple times last night. When I say I want you to take
a break, I mean it, Tesoro.” He sits up and that damn hand threatens my
throat again. “You’ll soak in a warm bath and in a few days, after that pretty
pussy has had time to heal, I’ll be taking you again. And then you’ll be used
to me. Then,” his hands jerk me forward and I slide along his cock. “I’ll
take you whenever the fuck I want, but I won’t be adding to your pain this
morning.” He pushes me back, my slick pussy hugging his width.
I feel the tenderness and the slight pain he’s talking about, but still, I
want him inside me so badly. I’ll listen to him though.
Just this once.
“You’ll make me come like this,” he says, dragging me up his length
again, then down. His tongue darts across his bottom lip, his feral gaze
locked on where his cock peeks from between my legs with every backward
stroke. “You can too. I’m already so close because just the sight of having
you against me has me ready. You’re so fucking beautiful, Rosie.” His eyes
wander all over my body, rolling his lips together just before tossing his
back so far, he collapses on the bed. “Fuck! Jesus Christ,” he growls, the
tendons in his neck tense. When he looks at me again, he tilts his hips,
thrusting faster. “Don’t move. Christ, my wife is unreal,” he groans,
flipping me over until I’m flat on my back, my head hanging off the bed
while he drives himself through my slick lips.
The crown presses against my clit as he drives in hard. Both of his hands
wrap around my throat while he wishes he could drive into me deep.
“You have no idea the things I want to do to you,” he pants between
breaths, bending his elbows to bring his face closer to mine. “Things you’d
hate me for.”
“I already hate you,” I moan, holding onto his wrists as he increases the
pressure.
A dark, raspy chuckle ending on a husky groan tickles my ear. “You
fucking wish you hated me.”
“I do.”
“Don’t lie to yourself.” He kisses the side of my throat. “You are on your
way to loving me. Admit it, that’s what you really hate.”
“You flatter yourself—fuck!” I cry out, digging my nails into his
shoulders.
“When I hear you make sounds like that? Damn right, I do.” He grunts as
he picks up speed, moving faster and the faster he rocks against me, the
louder he becomes.
I love that he isn’t quiet. Hearing him, hearing how good I’m making him
feel elevates the pleasure I’m experiencing. Our sounds blend together,
louder as we get closer to climax.
My thighs begin to tremble and the lightweight feeling in my body takes
over while my breath catches. My toes curl and I drag my nails down Ari’s
back as I come, the scream lodged in my throat. The cry of desire is silent,
but it is bursting in my head as pulls another orgasm from me for the second
time this morning.
“Not going to waste a fucking drop though,” he says, leaning back and
barely pressing the tip just enough inside to steal my breath from how
tender I am.
Ari’s jaw drops, his dark hair messy and falling over his forehead as he
comes, filling me again. I’ve lost count how many times the man has come
inside me, but it’s becoming one of my favorite things to watch him do.
He’s so primal and the look of ownership as he does it only turns me on
more.
He pulls out, finishing against my inner thigh.
Then he does something he hasn’t done before. He manhandles me by
settling me in the middle of the bed, slides a pillow under my head, then
lifts my hips from the mattress while keeping my legs in the air.
“What are you doing?” I ask, a little tired and relaxed from the orgasms.
“I’m making sure,” he says without explanation.
“Making sure of what?”
He smirks and that’s when it hits me.
“Oh my god, you’re hoping this helps get me pregnant.” I want to roll my
eyes but I’m too tired. “You’re a caveman. It will happen in time. Your
contract—”
“—You think I’m doing this for the contract?” he shakes his head, lifting
me even higher. “I don’t give a fuck about that contract. This is all about me
and you. This is about me wanting to get my wife pregnant because the
thought of her with my child makes me….”
The feeling of his hard cock pressing against the back of my thigh makes
me giggle. “Insatiable?” I finish for him.
“To start with.” He kisses the side of my knee then his eyebrows dip and
his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. “Do you really?”
“What?” I ask, turning my head to get more comfortable on the pillow,
then shut my eyes. I’m debating if I want to go back to sleep.
“Hate me still.”
No. No, I don’t. The word, the admission is on the tip of my tongue to
tell him the truth. Him thinking that I truly hate him has a sour taste in my
mouth, but of course, he thinks that. I’ve given him nothing to believe
otherwise. Just because we have had sex doesn’t mean anything. People
who hate each other fuck one another all the time.
I’m about to answer him when the door bursts open without warning and
Ari is covering me instantly. His body weight is completely on top of mine,
pressing against me so it’s hard for me to breath.
Ari dives a hand under his pillow and points a gun at the intruder, angling
his body to keep me projected.
A gunshot rings out and I curl tighter under Ari.
“Fuck, it’s me, Ari. It’s me!”
Matias’s voice cuts through the ringing in my ears. Ari’s arm tightens
around me, holding me so close that there isn’t an inch of room between us.
“You better give me a good reason as to why you’re interrupting my
fucking morning with my wife—my naked wife—without knocking.” Ari’s
voice is eerily quiet.
It’s beyond rage. His body is trembling beneath mine, building with the
need to kill.
“We have a problem.”
“And it couldn’t wait? I’m obviously busy. From here on out, no one
interrupts me or Rosie between seven and nine in the morning.”
“I’ll do my best to make that happen, but now isn’t the time.”
“Turn around,” Ari demands and after a few seconds, he rolls off me.
“Are you okay?” He cups my jaw with one hand, looking me over as if I’ve
been in harm’s way and he is searching for wounds.
“I’m fine. I’m fine. I promise.”
He brings the blankets over me and tucks them under my chin, covering
me so Matias can’t see. “I’m sorry our morning was ruined, Tesoro.” He
brushes his thumb over my cheek before leaning in and kissing my cheek.
“It’s okay. You take care of what you need to.”
He scratches his head and the gold ring on his finger glitters in the
morning sun. I look down on mine, hoping one day it will feel real, hoping
one day I’ll have an engagement ring to pair it with, so it doesn’t look like
we made a business deal. It’s starting to feel real so I had hoped we could
change a few things to make it real.
The wedding. The rings. Pictures. I don’t know.
“You’re what I need to take care of.”
“Can I turn around yet?”
“I’ll fucking tell you when you can turn around,” Ari bellows. “You
didn’t knock. You aren’t my priority. And don’t turn around yet unless you
want a bullet in your arm. You’ve seen too much of Rosie.”
“I didn’t see anything, I swear, brother. I didn’t see anything, Rosie,”
Matias tries to reassure. “Well, I saw your leg. The upper thigh. That’s it,
though.”
Ari growls, kissing the middle of my forehead. “Anyone else would have
a bullet between their eyes.”
“It’s ok, Matias. You barged in here for a reason, right?” I ask him, gently
taking the gun from Ari’s hand. “You don’t need this,” I whisper, placing it
on the bed.
He stands, slipping on a pair of sweatpants, and I watch him slip them on
over his bubbled butt. A few red lines from my nails are all over his back
and I blush, thinking back to every moment I dug into his skin because I
needed a way to release the pleasure.
I’ve marked him.
“What is it, Matias? You can turn around now.”
He spins, his cheeks flushed, and he doesn’t even look in my direction
but waves his hand to greet me anyway. “Hey, Rosie.”
I cover my mouth to stifle a laugh when I see how uncomfortable he is.
“Hey, Matias.”
“Focus.” Ari snaps his fingers. “I’d like to get back to my morning,
Matias.”
Matias exhales, shifting his eyes to me quickly before looking back at
Ari. “A dead body has been delivered,” he announces.
Ari straightens at the time as I gasp, covering my mouth in a different
manner this time. “Who is it? One of ours?”
“No one has touched it. We thought we needed to come to you first. It’s
in the basement.”
“Okay. We’ll be down soon.”
“We?” Matias and I ask at the same time.
“We.”
We wait for Ari to explain, to say more, to emphasize but he doesn’t.
“We’ll be down in fifteen minutes. I’m assuming the body can wait that
long?”
“We’ll put in on some ice just in case,” Matias says casually as if it isn’t
the first time he has had to do that.
It should bother me more than it does. It sounds like an everyday thing,
something they do to check off from their list first thing in the morning.
“Good.” Ari opens the bedroom door. “Next time, knock. Or the hole in
the wall will be in your body’s shape. Don’t make me shoot my own
brother.”
“I’m sorry. It was urgent. I thought you needed to know.”
“It’s fine. This time,” Ari’s voice drops, and the message is clear.
Don’t let it happen again.
The door shuts and I’m finally left in peace with Ari.
“Come on, Tesoro. Let’s shower and see who has been delivered to us.”
I toss the blankets from my body and climb from the bed. I think about
my family, wondering if they got caught. Maybe someone found them and
brought them back to America.
“Hey.” One arm wraps around my hips while his finger tilts my chin up.
My eyes water as I look at him, trying to hold in my worry, but I fail.
“Talk to me, Rosie.” Those monstrous eyes set on taking over the world
only soften for me as they dart over my face. “What’s wrong? What can I
do?”
“Do you think it’s Caplan? Is it my family? God, Ari. I don’t know what
I’ll do if it’s them. I can’t go down there. I can’t. Not if it’s Caplan. The
thought makes it hard to breathe.” I press a hand against my chest. “I can’t.
Please, find out first if it’s him. I’m not strong like you. I won’t be able to
handle it.”
He presses a finger against my lips to silence me. “I understand your
worry.” He takes my hand and drags me to the bathroom, flipping on the
shower. He engulfs me in his arms, and I sink into his wide muscular chest.
The steam fills the room, and we step inside the stall, the firm pressure of
the water hitting my back.
“I can promise you it isn’t your family. They are safe.”
I blow out a breath and nod, not wanting to separate myself from him just
yet. “You’re sure? You promise?”
“I’m sure and I promise on my life,” he says, kissing my forehead.
I’m used to people in my life breaking promises they make, and I find
myself hoping Ari isn’t one of them.
Chapter Twenty
Ari
I’m annoyed.
I’ve had the best night of my life and woke up to the taste of my wife
coming on my tongue. I’ve been the only man inside her, the only man to
be given the privilege of knowing what she feels like, the way she sounds,
gasps, and moans with every slide of my cock.
Or my tongue.
Or my hands.
I’m the only man who knows how soft her skin is or how wicked her
tongue can be when she’s protecting herself.
It’s all mine.
Her rage, her pain, her confusion, her pleasure, her happiness.
It all belongs to me.
Power like that can be dangerous in the hands of a man like me, but it’s
also very addicting and very rewarding.
I’m annoyed because while I was experiencing all these wonderful
emotions, my brother interrupted everything, and I nearly blew his head off
without thinking. My ears are still ringing from being in such a small room
and a gunshot going off.
But the idea of anyone seeing my wife naked makes me murderous.
She’s all mine and she proved that last night. No one has else the
privilege.
I turn off the shower and step out first, snagging a towel from the heated
rack before wrapping it around her first. I dry her off, taking my time to
enjoy her body, taking in every mark and bruise I left on her last night.
Rosie is magnificent when she’s marked.
My attention falls to her hand, the plain gold band sparking
possessiveness and rage. The ring shows she’s mine, but there’s no
engagement ring, no beautiful big diamond that’s too big for her finger that
she can flash around, daring any man to come near her because they won’t
be able to give her better.
I’ll need to remedy that.
My feelings for Rosie have grown fast and hard, but I’m not surprised. I
was always the Milazzo who felt quickly which is why I’m quick to joke
and humor. It’s easy to cover up feelings that way so no one mistakes the
ability to feel so deeply as a weakness.
But god, I’m already consumed by Rosie. She’s maddening and daring,
challenging me to levels of insanity only an enemy would threaten.
She’s my reckoning, the one person to bring me to my fucking knees.
“How do you feel?” I ask her, tucking the end of the towel in so it’s
secured around her.
“Good. Sleepy. A little sore,” she muses, snagging another towel to dry
her hair.
A grumble of delight escapes me and knowing she’s sore because of me
has me pinning her against the wall, stealing her lips in another kiss and
robbing her lungs of every bit of air they hold.
“And I’ll make sure you stay that way.” I nip at her bottom lip, brushing
my thumb across the swollen flesh. Fuck. I want her.
“Ari,” she whispers when she feels how hard I am as I press against her
thigh.
She’s right.
I’m insatiable for her.
She reaches and wraps her hand around my cock, giving it a good
squeeze before she strokes me from root to tip.
I hiss with pleasure, tilting my head down to watch.
“We don’t have time,” she says weakly, stroking me faster. “We have to
go down. They are expecting you.”
“Whoever is dead, is dead. They aren’t coming back. They can fucking
wait. Oh, fuck, Tesoro. You’re a quick learner,” I praise, my eyes rolling to
the back of my head.
“I have the best teacher,” she flirts, giving my cock another firm squeeze
by tightening her fist.
I smirk, digging my teeth into my bottom lip while I watch as she
touches me exactly how I like. “Is that so?”
“Oh yeah,” she pouts, falling to her knees. She jerks the towel away from
her body, giving me the view of her tits. From the downward view of
looking at her, I can tell her nipples are hard. They are red and a bit irritated
from all my affection last night, so I won’t touch them, but god, I will
admire them. “Maybe you can grade me, Mr. Milazzo,” she purrs, guiding
my cock between her lips while she role plays.
“You’re fucking perfect for me, aren’t you?” I groan as she sucks my
cock, gently playing with the tip first.
She hums and all I can hope is that she is agreeing with me about the
question I just asked her.
“Goddamn it, you’re too good at this already. How am I supposed to keep
my hands off you when you’re so good with your mouth? Hmm?” I push
her hair back, tangling my fingers in the curly strands and hold onto the
coils while she deep throats me. “Fuuuuck,” I groan, hearing the wet sounds
of her trying to take me to the back of her throat.
I fall onto one arm, holding myself up against the wall while I look
down, her head bobbing faster.
“That’s it, Tesoro. Just like that.” I lick my lips and release a sexual sigh.
“I love seeing your lips stretch while you suck me. You have no idea how
good you look right now.”
Her free hand comes to cradle my sack and gently rolls the orbs in her
palm at the same time as she sucks me to the back of her throat only to
cause herself to gag.
“Rosie!” I slam my fist against the wall, my knees buckle when she
begins to pay attention to a certain spot under the crown of my cock. “Fuck,
oh fuck, yes, don’t stop. Don’t stop. What the fuck,” I groan in confusion
and euphoria. No one has ever found that spot. No one has ever focused on
it so much, that If they did, they would have known it would make me
come. “Rosie, don’t stop,” I repeat again, my lungs searching for air as my
orgasm creeps closer.
I tighten my grip so hard on her scalp, she whimpers, and the small
vibration travels done the length of my cock. Taking her face in my hands, I
fuck her throat once, twice, three times before flooding her mouth.
“Mmm,” she moans, swallowing me greedily.
“God, Rosie.” My head spins from the rush before I collapse against the
wall.
I slip from her mouth, and she peers up at me. Those blue eyes full of
pride and her lips shining and red from accommodating me.
Reaching down, I wrap my hand around her throat and lift her to her feet.
“I’ll never you buy you a necklace when you look so much better wearing
my hand.” I smash my lips against hers, tasting her, tasting myself, and I’m
about to spread her legs to slide home when another knock pounds on the
front door.
“I won’t have men to lead when I kill them all,” I say low so only she can
hear me.
Rosie giggles as I bend down and snag the towel off the ground to wrap
around my waist.
“I’m not done with you, Tesoro. Far from it.” I point at her, then stomp
my way to the door. I yank it open, only this time it’s Gianni standing in
front of me. “What?”
“I was making sure everything is okay. Everyone is getting restless.”
“Oh?” I lean against the wall and cross my arms. “Is the body still dead?”
“Yes, Ari, but you know the sooner you deal with this, the better. Every
second wasted is a second the enemy has that we don’t. I understand you
are wanting to celebrate you progress with Rosie—”
I slam the door behind me, so Rosie doesn’t have to see me like this and
pin Gianni against the wall across the hall. “No, you don’t get to use her
against me. Do you understand? You don’t get to decide how I spend time
with my wife. I am prioritizing her. Our relationship. The body is not going
anywhere, and the enemy isn’t doing anything today or they wouldn’t have
left a body for us to figure out what to do with. You don’t get to speak to me
about the choices I make regarding my wife and my fucking time. Do I
make myself clear?”
“Yes, Mr. Milazzo,” he concedes.
I exhale, placing my hands on my hips. I’m never angry enough to
correct him. I don’t like being called by my title. “It’s Ari, Gianni. We’ll be
down in five minutes. Have coffee ready, please.”
“Coffee over a dead body?”
“If I waited to have my coffee in peace overlooking the gardens, I’d
never get it.” I head back into the room to see Rosie already dressed.
She’s wearing skinny jeans and one of those baggy college T-shirts I got
her. Her curls are messy and wet, thrown in a bun on top of her head that
should be considered a catastrophe. Her hair is too pretty to be trapped in a
hair tie.
“You look beautiful,” I say, loving her just like this, just like how I met
her.
I love that out of everything I’ve gotten her, all the expensive dresses and
blouses, she chooses what makes her comfortable.
She rolls her eyes at me, and I yank the towel from my waist, throwing it
at her. It catches her off guard and it smacks her in the face. Rosie tosses it
back at me and I spin it around until it’s nice and tight.
“Don’t you dare. Ari…don’t do it. Don’t---Ah!” she jumps out of the
way as I let the towel fly, the end snapping in the air right next to her ass.
“You are a child!” she laughs.
“You make me feel lighter than I have in a long time,” I admit without
thinking, ruining the moment with something serious. I clear my throat and
disappear into the closet to get dressed.
“I’m glad,” she says from behind me, following me into the closet.
I slip on my slacks. “Of?”
She hands me a dark blue button-up shirt. “That you’re lighter. I am too.
With you. I feel lighter with you too,” she explains, leaving me smiling like
I don’t have the weight of the world on my shoulders.
We fall silent, staring at one another but it is only a little awkward
because we are both grinning and I’m man enough to admit when I’m
blushing.
I take the shirt from her, making sure to brush our fingers together and
bend down to kiss her cheek. “You don’t know how happy that makes me,”
I tell her, wincing when I put on my shirt as the skin pinches on each wound
I have.
“Are you okay? Maybe you should take it easy. You just got new stitches.
I can…I can…”
I watch her, waiting for her to finish her sentence when I notice the
beautiful flush disappear from her skin. She seems pale.
“Rosie? Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m just saying if you want to relax because you’ve done a lot with your
shoulder—”
“—Yes, I have,” I interrupt, making her fluster.
“—I’ll take care of the body. You relax and I’ll…go dig a grave or
something. Isn’t that what you do? No, you don’t. You’d do something
darker, right? Like feed them to the fish. I’ll do that.”
I tug her close to me. “You’d do that?”
“If it means that nurse won’t come back, yes,” she grumbles, shifting her
weight.
Ah, she doesn’t want me to tear my stitches again. “I really do love
jealousy on you, Tesoro.” I kiss her lips gently. “And it means the world
you’d get rid of a body for me. Even if you look physically ill at the thought
of it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever apologize. The day you don’t get sick at the thought of
seeing a dead body, is a day I need to worry. I don’t want you to see it. I’d
rather you stay here.”
“No. I’ll be fine. It’s your job, right? It’s what you do. If I’m going to be
here, I should learn some things, right?”
She’s right. She does need to learn. “If anything bothers you, you leave.
Okay?”
“Okay,” she agrees.
“Come on. Let’s go before they send in the cavalry and it’s me you have
to feed to the fishes.”
She laughs and slaps her hand in mine while I pull her out of the room.
I’m wondering when the shift in us changed but I wouldn’t change it for the
world. It’s so much easier being with her like this than fighting constantly.
When we get downstairs, I head down the hall where we extricate
information from our enemies. A few of the men are standing around with
their arms crossed and straighten when they see me. When we get to the
room, the door is open still and Matias tosses his cigarette outside and
closes the steel door, sliding the long lock in place.
Then he turns the handle, sealing us in.
But I’m not looking at a body.
I’m not looking at anything.
“Where is the body?” I ask, adding a bit of heat to my voice. “I know I
wasn’t bothered twice about coming to see the fucking body and now it
isn’t here. Did it suddenly walk out?”
Rosie squeezes my hand, calming my nerves.
I have to be like this in front of them.
‘We’re getting it off the ice,” Matias informs just as a few men drag it in
and lie it on the floor. “Perfect timing.”
The body is wrapped in black garbage bags with duct tape around the
neck, waist, and legs. “Turn around, Rosie.” I kiss the top of her hand
before letting it go.
“No, it’s okay.”
I turn to her, raising a brow, but she stands firm with her decision, lifting
her chin for me to dare to argue with her.
I lean in and whisper, “You don’t have to watch this.”
“I do if I don’t want to be a joke to them,” she replies quietly.
She’s smart and her decision to brace herself for this will earn a lot of
respect among my men. So many of them are going to be waiting for her
reaction and I know Rosie, she won’t let them see her falter. No, that lovely
gift will be reserved for me in our bedroom behind closed doors. It will be
our little secret and something about that is more intimate than anything we
have shared.
“As you wish,” I state, giving her a curt nod.
I bend down and hold out my hand. Matias places the knife I was silently
asking for on my palm and I wrap my fingers around the black handle with
gold leaf accents. It’s a gorgeous blade that was given to me to help pay a
debt.
The blade is sharp, and I ease the tip into the plastic material, cutting it
until I get to the first barrier of tape. Matias rips the bag more so we can see
who the body belongs to.
“I guess you don’t have to worry about the nurse anymore, Rosie,”
Matias informs Rosie with a slight humorous tone.
“I didn’t want her to die,” Rosie sounds offended. “I didn’t like her, but
death is pretty extreme. I hope she was able to die fast. I couldn’t imagine
death being prolonged all while knowing you’re going to die anyway, you
know?” she says, sounding so sweet and innocent, showing she truly
doesn’t know how the world works.
A quick death only happens when mercy is shown and that rarely ever
happens.
I tear the rest of the bags and notice marks all over the body, already
proving that our nurse did not have a quick death.
“There’s something in her hands,” Matias says, plucking a piece of paper
out of the frozen hold of the nurse.
He uncrumples the paper and reads it before handing it to me. “A note
from your best friend.”
I snatch it from him, knowing damn well he is being sarcastic because
my best friend is my twin.
Milazzo,
You’re a smart man. I’m surprised you would turn your back on our deal.
I know you have the girl and I know she is the one responsible for killing
one of my men. Bring her to the club tomorrow and your disloyalty will be
forgotten.
-Bianchi
I growl as I crumble the paper in my hand.
Disloyal.
He sounds as if I work for him, and I do not. The only people I am loyal
to are my family, my wife, and the men who work for me.
I want to kill him for thinking he has control over me.
“What is it?” Rosie asks, placing her hand on my shoulder.
“He knows you’re here and he thinks he knows you killed one of his
men. What he doesn’t know is that you have the stone. He thinks those are
two separate people, so we can always say you didn’t do it. He has no proof
otherwise. I don’t know how he would have found out it was you. I’ve
made sure your name has stayed clean. He wants to meet.”
“Then let’s meet him.”
A rumble in my chest forms. “Get rid of the body,” I order, snagging
Rosie’s arm with my hand as I force her out of the room.
When we are far enough away, I duck us into a room down the hall, so
we are nowhere near the men or the body.
“We are not going to this meeting. You are not going to see him,” I state,
leaving no room for argument.
“Is that right?”
But my wife always finds room for argument.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rosie
If there is one thing he knows I do not like or appreciate it is when someone
tells me what to do.
“You are staying here. Where it is safe and protected. I won’t take a
chance.”
“And what will you do when he asks where I am? He wants to see me.
He wants to meet with both of us. This could be our chance to really get
him out of our lives.”
“It isn’t that simple. He knows you killed one of his own and he won’t
trust me now when it comes to the diamond because if I lied to him about
that, who knows what else I’ve lied to him about. I don’t care if I lied to
him. His alliance means shit to me. And we still have to assume it was him
at the airstrip. So he knows your brother took the diamond. If he knows
that, there is no way in hell I’m letting you near Bianchi. There’s no way in
hell that is happening. You’re staying here and you won’t be leaving until
this issue is taken care of.”
“I am not going to be kept here like some prisoner after all the progress
we have made. I’m going.”
“You are infuriating!” he shouts at me. “You will be in danger. I won’t
allow it.”
“I’m in danger anyway! He knows I’m here. He knows who my brother
is. He knows I’m yours and that’s enough for him to wage war, right? I
don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me.”
“My men know their job. They need to protect you. They know what
they sign up for when they work for me.”
“Do not be so careless with them. That isn’t fair and they don’t deserve
that. I’ll be okay. I’ll be with you. You won’t let anything happen to me,” I
say, lowering my voice when I speak the truth. “Not taking me will cause
conflict.”
“And taking you could get you killed.” He shakes his head. “No. You’re
staying here.”
“Why? Why are you being like this? Just let me go. It will only help you
more.”
“Because I can’t lose you!” he shouts so loud, there’s no doubt his men
on the other side of the door can’t hear us. “I just got you. I just got you to
let down your guard and let me in. This is the first time that you’ve felt like
you are mine. I can’t lose you.”
“Ari—” I say his name on a broken whisper, his words warming my
chest.
“—You’re staying. I don’t care if it makes you hate me. I’ve brought
down your walls once and I’ll do it a hundred times.” He opens the door,
then slams it shut behind him. The force shakes the wall and the ground
beneath my feet.
I take a moment to collect myself, to calm down, but I won’t be left out
of this. He needs me. I open the door and follow him, stalking down the hall
until I run into Gianni. “Where is he?” I ask him through clenched teeth.
“Upstairs. His word is law, Rosie. He won’t change his mind.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” I run, skimming my hands along the wall as
I climb up the stairs. “Ari! We are not done talking about this.”
“We are done,” he says from his office.
I march inside to see him opening a case that’s full of weapons. I glance
to the other side of the room to see a wall that’s covered in knives, different
shapes, and sizes.
“What the hell is all this?”
“Things you aren’t supposed to see but knowing you, you would have
found them anyway.”
“Ari,” I stalk up to him. “We need to talk about this. This isn’t about you
being in charge. This is about you being my husband. You need to think
rationally.”
He grabs my shoulder and looms over me. “Can’t you see that’s all I’m
doing? It’s all I do with you.”
“No, you’re protecting me for your own selfish reasons. That’s it. That’s
all. You aren’t looking at the big picture.”
‘You are the big picture!” he yells at me. “You are my rationale. You are
my reasons. I am doing this for you. Stop being so damn stubborn and let
me protect you.”
“No.”
He rubs his temples, then places his hand in a steeple position on his
chin. “I love your strength,” he says softly, as if he is taking time to admire
his words while he speaks. “Your ability to charge headfirst in a situation
has always impressed me. You love to tackle an issue. I respect that but you
aren’t alone anymore. You don’t have to fight alone anymore. I’m here to
fight your battles.”
“I don’t want you to. I want to fight them by your side. You aren’t alone
anymore either.”
“Damn it, Rosie!” His voice is so loud it makes me flinch. “I don’t want
you to fight anymore. You’ve done that your entire life. You’ve fought your
way to the surface just to catch a fucking breath because you’ve killed
yourself for those people you call parents. You’ve fought long enough, and
it is my job to let you rest.” He takes my face in his hands and I can’t help
but lean into him. He always feels so good, and his touch alone almost
makes me give in a listen.
I grab onto his wrist and stare into his eyes, pressing his palm against my
cheek a little harder because I don’t want him to go anywhere.
“Please, stay here. Please.” He drops his forehead to mine and the soft
breaths escaping warm my lips. The longer I stand so close, the more the
magnetism between us builds, the pull becomes stronger and too hard to
deny. He wraps an arm around me and jerks me against him, his fingers
digging into my lower back.
He kisses me, the kind that’s all consuming and addictive, the kind that
has women fall in love in a second and wishing that this kiss would never
end.
I’m that woman.
I don’t want his touch to fade or his lips to break from mine.
I used to think fighting him was a matter of survival, a way to make sure
my family was safe. I didn’t t really care about what happened to me
because I haven’t cared for a very long time. Now I know better. Ari is a
lesson; someone I learn from every day.
Fighting him isn’t a matter of survival, but giving into him has taught me
to survive.
I want to give. I want to give him everything. Let him burn all the hate
that’s filled inside my soul and let it burn every enemy we have.
He would. I believe that. It doesn’t matter how I became his wife. The
circumstances do not matter to him. All that matters, what sets fire in his
eyes, and the possession he exudes every day when he looks at me tells me
everything I need to know.
Ari Milazzo wouldn’t just burn the world down for me, but he’d rebuild
it with the ashes of our enemies.
Then, he’d make a throne.
That’s who he is in my life. He isn’t the knight in shining armor but the
villain everyone warns their children about.
I was never warned. My parents never cared about me that much. So it
would make sense I’m easily swayed by a man like Ari.
He brings the kiss to an end, his hands gripping my ass as a rumble
vibrates his chest.
“Thank you,” he whispers, pushing a curl behind my ear.
I lean back, my brows furrowing. “For what?”
“Staying here. I appreciate it. Keeping you safe is all I care about.”
I untangle myself from his hypnotic hold on me. Somehow, I plastered
myself against him until there was no space left between us. “You think I
kissed you because I was agreeing to your demands? I wasn’t, Ari. I kissed
you because…you’re….you. You’re impossible not to kiss.”
He opens his mouth to say something smart, but I hold up my hand to
stop him.
“I’m going and the fact you used a kiss to get me to listen to you, you
should know, that will never happen.”
“You are the most…infuriating woman I’ve ever met. If I have to, I’ll
lock you in a room.” He stomps away from me, and I grab a knife from the
case, throwing it through the air.
I don’t aim it at him, but I only want to get his attention. It lands in the
wall, and he stops in his tracks. Even though he is turned away from me, I
notice the movement in his shoulders and his spine. He straightens. His
shoulders widen and he wraps his hand around the handle, then tugs the
blade from the wall.
“You know, Tesoro. I’m getting tired of you throwing knives at me.”
“I’m getting tired of you trying to control me. I’m going with you and
that’s final.”
He spins on his heels and charges at me so fast, I don’t have time to react.
He pins me against the glass case, the sharp edge of the blade kissing the
skin of my neck.
“You really piss me off, Rosie. You know just the way to get under my
skin to claw at my damn nerves.”
“The feeling is very mutual, Mr. Milazzo,” I bite, leaning forward to
press the knife against my throat a little harder. I want to show him I’m not
afraid of him, but I know he’d never hurt me.
Scare-tactics is all we will do to one another.
“And I want to know—” he slams the knife back in the case “—How the
fuck you’re so good at throwing knives.”
“I’m a natural when it comes to defending myself,” I say nonchalantly.
“Fine,” he finally relents, and I have to stop myself from doing a happy
dance. He grabs the knife and hands it to me again, wrapping my fingers
gently around the sleek slate-gray handle. “You should have this. You won’t
be able to take it to the meeting. They will check us for weapons, but you
deserve something to protect yourself with every day and you’re way too
fucking good at throwing those things.”
“Honestly, I think it might be luck because I have no idea what I’m
doing.”
He roughly takes my chin between his fingers. “You are to listen to me
when we are with Bianchi. Do not get sassy. Do not be cute with that smart
mouth of yours.”
“I’ll save it just for you.”
“Good girl. I want it reserved for me.” His thumb brushes across my
bottom lip. “I’m serious, Rosie. Please, I meant it when I said I can’t lose
you.”
“I promise, Ari. I’ll listen.”
“And I’m not trying to silence you. I happen to appreciate your tenacity,
but I know Bianchi wouldn’t. I only want you safe.”
“I know,” I nod, understanding him completely. “I’ll be on my best
behavior.”
He exhales, wrapping his arms around me. “Great. I’m going to have to
kill someone, aren’t I?”
I giggle. “Maybe.”
He drifts one hand up my back, cupping my nape. “Where’s the gem,
Rosie?”
The question throws me off guard. “I’m not going to give it to you to
give to him.”
“That’s fine. I don’t want the damn diamond. I don’t even want to know
where it is. The less I know, the better, but he needs to believe that we don’t
have it. We will see what he says about your brother and if he brings up the
diamond, you mention nothing. You act clueless.”
“But then why did I kill one of his men? Why was I at the club?” I ask
him, trying to piece our story together.
“You were there to let off some steam. You were tired of the store,
stressed out, and you convinced yourself you needed a break. He came on
too strong and you tried to get him to stop, but he wouldn’t listen. They
don’t have cameras in that back room so they can’t prove anything, but I bet
he knows it was you because of witnesses. If anyone saw you go into the
room with him—”
“A few did,” I say, shutting my eyes when I realize how stupid I had
been. “I’m sorry, Ari. You wouldn’t be in this position because of me.”
“Hey.” His hands grab onto my hips, his fingers biting into a bruise from
last night. “I wanted to be in this position, remember? I came to you. I knew
what I was getting into. I don’t regret a damn thing, but we are about to
walk into my world now. It’s important you listen to me.”
“Your world,” I agree, trying to cover how nervous I am about meeting
with Bianchi.
“I don’t like it. I don’t want you to go. I’d rather you stay back with a
few of the men, but I know I’ll probably come home to hair removal in my
shampoo or something and I don’t have the energy for that level of prank.”
“I would never.” I run my fingers through his thick, dark strands. “I love
your hair.”
‘So truce?”
I tease the tip of the blade under his chin and a feral want grips his eyes.
“Not on your life, Mr. Milazzo.”
“Ari.”
I pout when I hear Matias’s voice and drop the knife, the fun coming to
an end.
“Your timing is impeccable, brother, and I mean that with all the sarcasm
I can muster.”
“Sorry. I wanted you to know the body was taken care of.”
The reminder of the nurse’s body has fear crashing over me like ice-cold
water. On the inside I’m shivering, afraid, and wondering what the hell I’m
going to do tomorrow when I step foot in Ari’s world.
On the outside, I have to look like I know what I’m doing. I have to look
at the part.
And if there is one thing I know I’m good at, it’s bottling up everything I
feel in order to make it another day.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ari
My wife is the aftertaste of really good whiskey. She burns, warming you
from the inside out. There’s the dizziness that accompanies after too much
has been had, but it feels good. She feels good, but she’s an acquired taste.
People who can’t handle her will be hungover the next day. She’s too
strong for the likes of weak and inferior people.
She’s made for men who enjoy the pain of the burn because it’s the only
way to survive the fire she breathes.
Rosie rolls onto her side, facing me, her curls an absolute mess, and
there’s a wrinkle from the pillowcase indented in her cheek. She sleeps
hard, but I haven’t been able to rest all night. Every move she made; I was
worried someone was here to pry her from my arms.
Today is the day we meet Bianchi and I’ve never been more nervous in
my entire life. I roll out of bed without disturbing her, sliding on my
sweatpants.
She mumbles, rolling to my side of the bed to snag my pillow. She holds
it to her chest, and I grin.
She likes me.
And one day, I’m going to get her to love me.
I do my business in the bathroom, wash my hands, and head to the
kitchen. Immediately, I smell the espresso machine and Matias standing
there while he makes his latte.
“Good morning. Make me one too?”
“Fuck no. Make it yourself and don’t pull that authority on me either.”
“Fine,” I yawn, knowing he wouldn’t talk to me like that if anyone else
was around. “Where is everyone?”
“Making rounds, gathering the payments from the strip.”
“Any issues?” I ask, remembering what happened last week.
“Not yet. Everyone has paid. Gianni is worried about a casino but
nothing he can’t handle while we deal with Bianchi.”
“I want to get this over with,” I grumble, running my hands through my
hair. “I need to get Bianchi away from Rosie so we can move on.”
“You like her, then?” Matias asks, sliding me a mug so I can prepare my
own latte.
“Like her? You could say that.” I more than like her. I’m absolutely
obsessed with her.
“Because if you don’t want her, I think she’s amazing and I’d love to—”
Before he can blink, I have a kitchen knife in my hand and aimed at his
throat. He isn’t afraid. He only rolls his eyes, blows on his latte, and takes a
sip. “If you go near her,” I warn. “I’ll kill you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He shoves me away from him. “Death threats. Typical.
You wouldn’t dare kill me. We’re too attached. You’d be devastated.”
“I’d live.” Barely. Not that I’d admit that to him. We are twins so we are
close in ways people don’t understand. I’d never hurt my brother but the
thought of him with Rosie is betrayal. I’ve never minded when we have
shared women in the past, but Rosie is forever off-limits.
“So,” he sips his coffee. “This arranged marriage thing worked out for
you too, huh? Same with Carmine?”
“Luckily,” I say. “She pushes every single button, but I love it.”
He doesn’t say anything, just hums in thought.
“What?”
“Then you know the only way to keep her safe is to kill Bianchi.”
“We can’t do that. It will start a war and we aren’t ready for a war. We
need to remain on…decent terms. Things need to be like they were before
this stolen gem situation happened.”
“That won’t happen. Not as long as you are married to his enemy.”
“Well, if he dares to take what is mine, I’ll kill him. She isn’t the only
reason why I don’t want a war, Matias. I don’t want you or any of my men
getting hurt. I want no one to die because of this and if it means playing
nice with this fucking asshole, then I will. For now.”
“Maybe playing it safe isn’t the way to go, Ari. Maybe we end this now.”
“No, there’s too much at stake now. This isn’t just about proving
strength. It’s about strategy and being smart. I have to outsmart a man like
Bianchi. So we sit tight. We will meet with him. After I get the information
I need, we will move on from there.”
Matias’s eyes shift over my shoulder, and I turn around to see a sleepyeyed Rosie standing there. She’s in my T-shirt and it hangs down to her
knees. No one has ever made a shirt look so fucking good. I want nothing
more than to bend her over this kitchen island and fuck her in it.
She’ll be bathed in my bruises while I grip her hips, my come dripping
from her tight cunt, and my shirt will be pulled above her ass so I can watch
my cock slide in and out of what is mine.
Fuck, I’m getting hard thinking about claiming her all over again.
“Good morning, Tesoro.” I stretch out my arm toward her and she comes
without argument, nestling perfectly against my side. “How did you sleep?”
“Good. What’s going on? You two sound serious.”
“Just discussing logistics of how everything should go with Bianchi.
Nothing new,” Matias explains, reassuring her with a smile. “Can I make
you a latte, Rosie?”
“You’ll make her one but not me?” I make sure I sound hurt. “That’s just
rude.”
“You’re not cute. She is.”
“Don’t call her cute,” I rumble, tightening my hold around her waist.
Rosie giggles, then takes a seat on my lap. I place my chin on top of her
shoulder, sliding my hand around her stomach to pull her back against my
front. Burying my nose against her neck, I inhale, and the sweetness of her
perfume is a ghost against her skin from yesterday. She smells so good.
“Get a fucking room,” Matias says, setting her mug down in front of her.
“I am in a room,” I say. “And if you don’t like it, find yourself in another,
brother.”
“Don’t mind if I do. I need to check in with Gianni, anyway. I’ll see you
in a few hours.” He raises his mug to me, saying goodbye as he heads down
the steps and to the tech room.
“You’re cute in the mornings,” she says, holding the mug in her hands.
“You’re snuggly.”
“Men like me aren’t ‘snuggly,’” I say while kissing the side of her neck.
“Yes, you’re right. Not at all. You’re so cold and distant in the mornings.
Really,” she says, the hint of sarcasm tinging her voice. I choose to ignore
it.
I move her hair out of the way and kiss the back of her neck. I love the
way she gives me access. The smooth flesh is flawless, and I think about
when we met, how she’d rather have died then let me this close. I shut my
eyes and choose to just feel her, roaming my hands up and down her arms,
the tips of my calloused fingers caressing her. My breath tickles the back of
her neck and her breath itches, which makes her stop before taking a sip of
her coffee.
My lips drag down her throat, slow and steady, as if I don’t have an entire
empire to run and no seconds to waste, but if I did, I’d waste them all with
her.
Her skin pebbles in reaction to me, a slight tremble working its way
through her body.
“Ari,” she moans my name, but it isn’t loud, it’s a long, drawn-out hush.
The chemistry between us is building and the tension is reaching new
heights. I press my forehead between her shoulders, rocking it back and
forth to try to calm myself down. My chest rising and falls, my lungs
struggling to take a breath that isn’t full of fucking lust. I’ve never needed
anyone the way I need her.
She presses her ass against the long hard ridge of my cock, and I groan,
digging my hold into her thigh.
“We can’t,” I whisper, wishing this moment was happening any other day
but today.
“Why?” she asks, rocking herself against me. “Real fast? Please.” She
leans her head against my shoulders, grounding her ass against my cock. “I
feel good. I’m not sore. I want you.”
“We have to—” I lick my lips groaning from the friction. “We have to get
ready. We need to be prepared.”
“We will be. It isn’t for hours. Please,” she begs. “You want a baby, don’t
you? We can’t do that unless we have sex. A lot. It’s not easy getting
pregnant, Ari. You’ll have to fuck me all the time. Do you not want to?”
I growl and slam her forward, pressing her against the kitchen island. I
yank down her panties and lower my pants enough for my cock to spring
free.
“I want you all the time.” I curl my hand in her hair and guide my cock to
her entrance. “Never question that. Do you feel how fucking hard you make
me? I’m in a constant state of need with you.” We moan in unison as I sink
in, her ass pressed against my thighs as I settle to the hilt. “Fuck, Rosie,” I
curse, then kick the chair back and her chest is against the counter. My hand
is between her shoulders, holding her down while I slide out.
“Damn, you feel so good. So tight.” I curl over her, placing one hand on
her hip while I bite into her neck. “This will be quick. This will be rough. I
will not apologize for how I’m about to fuck you. And if you come or not, it
won’t be my problem.” I yank her head back, hoping it hurts and her mouth
falls open. “And then when we come home, I’ll take care of this greedy
pussy.”
“No,” she protests on a whine that makes me smile against her shoulder.
“Don’t make me wait. I’m burning up for you. Don’t leave me like this.”
I reach under the shirt and dive my hand between her legs, slipping my
fingers through her pussy until I feel the swell of her clit. I pinch it, rolling
it between my fingers and she moans, pressing her cheek against the
counter.
“Only because you ask so nicely.” I slide out and thrust back in, nothing
stopping me from burying every inch inside her, and something about that
has me releasing a feral force. Something possesses me. I ram into her
unapologetically, her ass shaking with every hard flex of my hips. “You
wanted this,” I say to her, moving my hands to her shoulders to get a better
grip as I drive into her. “You came in here, knowing I wouldn’t be able to
resist you. You knew I’d pull your panties down your legs so I could feel
the tight grip of this pretty desperate cunt. Isn’t at that right?”
Our skin slaps together and her moans echo through the kitchen. I know
anyone in the house can hear us. No one will come into the kitchen.
Not if they want to live.
She slips, falling more onto the counter which drives my cock in further.
I groan, loving how deep I am and by the sounds leaving her, she does too.
“Fuck, you already have me so close. I’m going to come, Tesoro. I’m
going to fill this pretty pussy up.”
“I’m so close, Ari. Don’t stop.”
I lift her from the counter and slam her against the fridge, pinning her
hands above her head while fucking her relentlessly.
“God, that’s it. You take this cock so well,” I whisper into her ear, the
magnets falling form the fridge from how hard I’m slamming her against it.
I continue roll her clit, then drift my hand up her sides and cup her tit, the
weight of it in my hand causing my hips to stutter.
“Ari. Ari,” she curls our fingers together and meets me thrust for thrust.
She’s close.
“That’s it. Call out my name,” I growl. “Let the entire fucking house
know who you belong to.”
“Oh, fuck. Ari. Oh, god. Yes. Ari!” she screams, her muscles clamping
around me and it beacons my own orgasm.
I groan, filling her with hot, heavy streams of my come.
“You’re fucking trouble.” I kiss her jaw before placing my forehead on
her shoulder, trying to steady my breath.
“I know,” she says on a tired, relaxed laugh.
I spin her around and pick her up, wrapping her legs around my hips, and
the gesture causing both of us to moan.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking you to the bedroom so I can lift your hips.”
“You’re obsessed with having an heir,” she says, lying her head against
my shoulder.
I open our bedroom door, then kick it shut. I ease her onto to the bed and
lift her legs and hips, still not pulling my cock out. If I could, I’d lock
myself inside her to improve our chances.
And she’s wrong.
I’m not obsessed with having an heir. I’m obsessed with her having my
child. I’m obsessed with the thought of her pregnancy.
I want it to happen now.
I want her bound to me in every single way.
I don’t know how to tell her that, so I keep my mouth shut and stay inside
her until I’m soft and slip out.
We stay in bed for hours and fall asleep.
I only wish we don’t have to wake to the nightmare of Bianchi.
***
“How are you feeling?” I ask her as we drive to the club where I met
Bianchi and Rosie killed one of his men.
The sun has set, and the night sky has poured darkness on the city. There
are no stars tonight but there are thick gray clouds building. In the distance,
thunder rolls and a light patter of rain pellets against the windshield.
We’ve been on the road for a few minutes and a heavyweight has been
cast in the car.
“I’m nervous, but I’ll be okay,” she replies, twisting her hands in her lap.
“I don’t think I’ll say anything. I think that’s my best bet. I’m afraid I might
go tell him to fuck himself.”
I snort, then toss my head back and laugh, sliding my hand through hers.
“You know, I won’t lie to you. I’m worried about that too.”
She playfully punches me in the shoulder. “I wouldn’t.”
I lift my brows and tilt my chin to my chest, staring at her in disbelief.
Rosie pouts. “Okay, I might, but I’ll try not to.”
“I know.” I rub my thumb across the top of her hand. “It’s going to be
fine. Let me lead, okay?” I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles.
I sigh, hating this part of the job. I hate meeting with people I don’t like
and hate it even more when I have to meet people I want to kill. I’d rather
spend the day in bed with Rosie, rolling around in pleasure until all that’s
left for her is to pass out from exhaustion.
That sounds like something I need to schedule. Maybe when all this
blows over, I can whisk her away to the Maldives and take her on a real
vacation. I’ll fuck her by the ocean every day and night until the waves
crash against us and have no choice but to remember my name as she cries
it out.
Gianni checks behind us to make sure Matias and a few of the others are
still there. There was no way in hell I was going to show up without
backup.
“What if something bad happens? What if this is all a trap to get you
alone and kill you, Ari? What if this is his plan?”
“It isn’t because he needs me. I have more respect in this city than he
does. If he wants any chance of making a name for himself. My networks
and connection are all over the globe. I have markets he can’t even dream
about. If he truly wants an alliance, he’ll keep that in mind.”
“What if he kills me?” she whispers so quietly, I can barely hear her.
“If he dares to make such an attempt, I’ll gut him where he sits and make
a crown from his bones to sit on your head like the queen you are, Tesoro.”
“You better watch out, Mr. Milazzo. You keep saying things like that and
I might do something stupid and fall in love with you.”
“Mmm, I suppose I’ll just hope you’ll have a moment of weakness and
become stupid for a second,” I tease just as the car rolls to a stop in the
parking lot of Amor’s. There are cars in the parking lot and line outside the
door waiting to get in. “He won’t do anything tonight. The place is packed.
If he really wanted to try something, he would have shut the place down
and it would have been a private meeting.”
“That’s reassuring,” she says, her voice wavering.
I look her up and down, taking in how fucking gorgeous she looks. She’s
wearing a tight green dress and she surprised me by straightening her hair
and while it looks stunning, her curls will always be my favorite. I hadn’t
realized her hair was so long. It’s down to the middle of her back, but since
her hair is so curly, it stops just above her shoulders when it isn’t sleek.
She’s wearing a white diamond necklace and earrings to match. The only
thing missing is a real engagement ring, but I need something that will
signify us, something with meaning. She deserves more than a basic ring
every other woman has.
“Ready, Ari?” Gianni asks from the driver’s seat.
“I am. Is Matias in position?”
“He’s parking now.”
“Great. We all enter together. I want to show him I don’t trust him,” I
state.
“I think it’s better if you go in with less,” Gianni explains. “He won’t
find it threatening.”
“He’s going to be threatening. It’s only fitting. I want a man flanking us
and behind us. If anything happens, you focus on getting Rosie out safely.
Am I clear?”
“Ari. No. What? What are you saying?”
I ignore her. “Are we clear, Gianni?”
“Crystal,” he grits.
Gianni gets out of the car and opens the back door for me. I get out,
holding out my hand, and my wife’s slender fingers glide across my palm.
The streetlight provides enough light for me to see how fucking gorgeous
she looks tonight. She’ll be gaining a lot of attention from others and that
savage possessiveness has me sliding my hand around her side. I tug Rosie
to my side, so she’s stuck to me like glue.
Her heels click against the pavement, the black Jimmy Choo’s are high,
making the lean muscle in her legs more pronounced.
Matias is at my side and Gianni flanks Rosie’s. Three other men walk
behind us, and I stop at the front of the line, cutting all the men and women
who are there for a good time.
“Milazzo.” It’s all I say, and he opens the door for me.
“Hey, what the fuck?” A man shouts from the line.
“Is there a problem?” Gianni asks, moving his jacket so the stranger can
see his gun.
“N-no,” he stutters.
“That’s what I thought. Keep your tongue tied because you have no idea
of what’s going on around you,” Gianni spits, making the grown man feel
like a child.
I step foot inside the club and the lights flash just like the time they did
when I first saw Rosie. The music is loud, the beat pulsating through the air.
The women on the poles roll their bodies to the rhythm and slowly untie the
top of their bikini until their breasts are illuminated against the purple lights
flashing.
A man shoves his way through the crowd and when he stands in front of
me, he looks me up and down then his eyes settle on Rosie.
“You came,” his voice darkening my mood like a shadow in a well-lit
hallway.
“Obviously,” I drowse, wanting to seem bored.
“Follow me.”
We follow closely behind the man that reminds me too much of a hitman,
the kind that has a murderous glint to his eye, and I immediately pull Rosie
to my side even more. It’s hard for her to walk but I refuse to have her out
of reach. I need to be able to protect her.
Rosie tenses next to me as we walk by the room where she killed a man.
I know it still bothers her, haunts her even because every now and then
when I look at her she’ll be staring into nothing, unblinking, and her face
will be pale. Then, there are the night where I wake her from a restless
sleep. I’m not sure if it’s a nightmare or maybe I’m overthinking it and
she’s fine.
I watch as her eyes linger on the door that’s shut, hiding the room where
it all happened. I kiss her cheek, not wanting her to think about it.
If that didn’t happen, I wouldn’t have met her, and honestly, the world is
a better place without another man like me.
The man guiding us to the meeting with Bianchi stops in front of the last
door at the end of the hall and opens it.
Bianchi is sitting on a plush leather couch, a woman on one side while
another is dancing on a stage, wrapping her legs around a silver pole.
Clouds of reeking smoke fill the space and a few men in the back corner
are rolling blunts and smoking them while the girl next to Bianchi bends
down and does a line of cocaine from the table.
The hitman-looking guy turns around. “Spread your arms and your legs. I
need to check you for weapons.”
“I’m not spreading my legs for you, and you won’t be touching my wife
unless you want to die.”
“I promise I won’t get too handsy,” he says in a thick Italian accent.
I grip him by his shirt and shove him. “I don’t need a weapon to kill you.
Say that again and I’ll rip your fucking tongue out, so you won’t ever be
able to speak again.” I stand in front of Rosie, protecting her from all the
men in this room.
“Now, now, let’s play nice,” Bianchi announces with a clap of his hands.
“Can one of my girls check her over?”
“No,” I say, lifting Rosie’s arms and taking her purse form her hand.
“It’s okay,” she whispers to me so only I can hear. “I’ll be fine.”
“No one is touching you but me,” I explain.
Her hair falls over her shoulders, tickling the skin just above her breast
and I’m envious. I’d give anything to kiss where the tips of the strands
touch.
I rub her body, not giving any of these assholes a show because I know
they will like it.
“She’s clean.”
“And you?” Bianchi questions, grabbing a blunt from the mound of drugs
on the table.
“I guess you’ll have to trust me.”
He doesn’t say anything as he lights the end, an orange ember burning
bright in the dark room. I don’t wait for him to ask us to sit down. I take a
recliner and place Rosie on my lap. She scoots until her back is settled
against the nook of my arm.
Bianchi leans forward, placing his elbows on his thighs and blows out a
cloud of smoke. “Trusting is a thing of the past now, Milazzo. We had an
agreement. You broke that agreement.”
“Ah, ah, ah,” I tsk, shaking my finger at him as if he is a child. “Our
agreement was I keep an eye out for the stone. That’s it. I haven’t come
across the stone, so I haven’t gone back on my word.”
“Yes, you have. You’ve done something a lot worse. You’ve married the
sister of the fucking traitor.” He slams his fist against the counter, the
cocaine puffing into a cloud and the girl next to him cries. She waves her
hand in the air, trying to sway the drug cloud to her nose. “Not only that,
but I know she killed one of my men. Witnesses are an amazing resource to
have. Renaldo.” He snaps his fingers and the guy who brought us into the
room leaves, then comes back a second later with a man who has seen
better days.
He has a black eye and a busted lip.
“Meet the bartender who saw your wife go into the back room with one
of mine,” he explains. “Is this the woman you saw the other night?”
Rosie’s fingers dig into my thigh as she slowly looks at the bartender
who can barely stand. Renaldo has him lifted up by his shirt.
The poor guy coughs, his good eye landing on Rosie.
“I…I don’t know. The girl I saw had super curly hair. This woman looks
different and when I met her, it was dark. I can’t say for sure,” he explains.
“You don’t know?” Bianchi growls.
“I’m sorry. I can’t say.”
“Get rid of him.” Bianchi waves Renaldo away.
“No, no, no. Wait. I’ve been loyal here. I haven’t done anything wrong!”
the bartender screams as he is dragged out of the room to god knows where.
A shaky breath escapes Rosie as she tries to keep it together. I feel her
body shaking against mine and I tighten my hold on her around her waist.
She must be terrified. Even with a mouth and attitude as wicked as hers, it
can’t save her from the pain a man like Bianchi can bring.
“I’ll forget the transgression since my only witness can’t prove who she
is. The man who was killed is a body that can easily be replaced,” he says
as if this man’s life didn’t matter.
I’d be furious if one of my men died. They are my family. My brothers.
We protect one another, but I suppose that’s the difference between me and
Bianchi.
“Tell me, where is your brother, Ms. O’Connor?” Bianchi directs the
question to Rosie.
“I don’t know,” she says with a shrug of her shoulder. “I haven’t seen
him in weeks. He’s always running around the city.”
“Do not lie to me, girl.”
I lean forward, meeting Bianchi’s stare. “We are here to speak to you, but
I won’t have you disrespecting my wife. You’ll either direct your questions
to me or you’ll call her by her name.”
My enemy lifts his hands in surrender. “Apologies,” he says, sounding
bored.
“Your brother has something of mine, Ms. O’Connor and I want it back.
“
“I’m sorry. I don’t know where he is.”
“Bullshit! I need that gem. Don’t lie to me!” he yells, and he is able to be
heard over the music. The stripper on stage looks down at us, her eyelids
hooded. One of her breasts is free from the small triangle bikini top, her
pink nipple pierced with a hoop.
She slides her body along the pole, dipping down, then stretches her arm
to the table to roll her finger in the white powder scattered about. She lifts it
to her nose and inhales the snow staying around her nostrils.
I need to get Rosie out of here.
“Tell me where he is, and I promise I won’t hurt him.”
“How do you know my brother took anything that belonged to you? I
wouldn’t think he’d come this way.”
“Yes, well, after some tracking and looking at security footage, I was
able to identify him. So where is he? I won’t ask again,” he threatens, beads
of sweat forming on his forehead.
Wait.
If he is asking about Rosie’s brother, then it wasn’t Bianchi who attacked
us on the airstrip, and he doesn’t know that Caplan has been out of the
country. Bianchi didn’t see him leave. If it wasn’t Bianchi who attacked us,
who was it?
I study Bianchi, noticing his nervous twitches and how he rubs a hand
over his mouth constantly as if he is stressed. He pours himself a shot of
vodka or maybe tequila, something clear and disgusting, then shoots it
back. His eyes shift down and he rubs his temples.
I know what a panicked man looks like and it hits me that Antonio
Bianchi is a man in debt.
He owes someone and his payment is that damn diamond.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rosie
“So you don’t know where your brother is which means you don’t know
where the gem is,” Bianchi takes a hit from the blunt and passes it to the
girl next to him. “If you don’t get me the gem in seventy-two hours, I’ll be
taking the only payment that will do. If her brother isn’t here, then she will
have to pay for the crime. You know how it goes. You know the rules. Your
wife either gives me the gem or she’ll have to give herself to me.”
I gasp, a cold chill settling in my bones. Being his could mean many
things or it means he’ll kill me. The way the man’s face shows no sign of
remorse has my head dizzy and the urge to run away hits me hard. I know I
won’t get far, but it’s the fight of flight response in me and I’m dying to fly
right now.
Ari said for me not to say anything, and that hasn’t been a problem since
we have set foot in this club. The person I was when I came here the first
time looking for revenge is gone. This is all above me. The violence, the
way of life, and what people will do to get what they want. I killed someone
and I never want to do it again, but these people seem to salivate for the
kill.
So I’ve been a good girl. I’ve only been speaking when spoken to.
My husband stands, pushing me behind him protectively and one of his
hands is gripping my arm so hard it hurts, but I know it isn’t to harm me but
to make sure no one else has the chance.
His voice is low, full of fury and hate, gravel clawing at his voice
belonging to a man who is far from a saint and allowing the monster to
reveal itself.
“I’ll say this once and you better fucking hear me. My reach is a lot
larger than yours and if anyone dares to threaten or put their hands on my
wife—” he hits his chest with his palm and raises his voice “—My fucking
wife! I will destroy everything you fucking love right in front of your face
before slowly killing you. She is mine and I will fucking torture, murder,
and slaughter for anyone who dares to try taking her from me.” Ari leans in
and seethes in Bianchi’s face. “I fucking dare you.”
His admission, the way he said it, the fierce protectiveness in his voice
has most of the fear vanishing and lust takes its place. There’s still terror
simmering under my skin but partnered with the desire I have for Ari at the
moment, I shockingly want nothing more than for him to fuck all his anger
into me. I want him to take his rage out on me.
Ari helps me to my feet, and I do my best to seem like my legs are
shaking.
“Seventy-two hours, Milazzo,” Bianchi reminds us.
“And you’ll be dead,” Ari tells him.
I know he’ll protect me, but the last thing Ari needs is a war with him
being so new after taking his brother’s title. It would be a lot of death and
I’d feel terrible if it all happened because of me. Would anyone have to die
if I just gave the diamond back to Bianchi? Would he forget about us?
Something tells me it wouldn’t matter now. I had my chance to return it
and I didn’t. These are the consequences of my actions and I have to live
with them.
Ari has a tight hold of my hand as we leave out of the room. He’s
practically dragging me down the hall. I’m finally able to breathe clean air
and I suck in a deep, relieved breath.
“Ari. Slow down. I can’t walk that fast in these heels.”
Matias is on one side of me, and Gianni is on the other. The rest of the
men are hanging back.
“Where is everyone else?” I ask, worried they are trapped.
“Making sure no one follows us,” Matias replies. “They are giving us
enough time to leave before they do.”
“Oh.” That makes sense, but even as I turn to look over my shoulder with
worry, I don’t see them coming from the back room. I’m scared I won’t
ever see any of them again.
“They will be fine.” Matias’s hand falls to the middle of my back. “They
are stronger, smarter, and quicker than any of those fuckers in that room.
They will come back soon.”
“And the bartender?” I ask out of nowhere. “We need to find him.”
“He gave you up!” Ari hissed the moment we are out the door, nearly
slamming into the security guard on the way out. “Fuck no. He can rot in
the ground for all I care.”
“He didn’t,” I argue, tugging on Ari’s arm to bring us to a stop in the
middle of the parking lot. “He knew it was me back there. My hair being
straight didn’t change my appearance that much. He knew it was me and all
he had to do was confirm it. He’s probably the reason why I’m still alive
right now. And we don’t know if he’ll kill me. He only said I’ll be his. That
can mean something else other than death.”
“Alive?” Ari bellows, the echoes of his voice traveling through the night
as if we were in a tunnel, the harshness of the passing voices a whip to my
skin. “You have a fucking bounty on you. His threat meant death and he
was nice about it. You have seventy-two hours before he wants your head.
Do you understand that? It doesn’t matter what the bartender said, in the
end, you have a death warrant now which would have never happened if he
never opened his fucking mouth like a coward,” Ari spits, the anger
darkening his cold blue eyes. “We shouldn’t have come here. I’m done
playing nice with him. Fuck his alliance. I’ve treaded carefully for you, but
no more.”
“The bartender did what anyone would do to survive. You can’t blame
him for that.”
“I do and if he were in front of me, I’d kill him myself.”
“I wouldn’t let you.”
“You stubborn, infuriating woman!” he shouts, lacing his hands behind
his head.
“You’re a hardheaded, strong-willed asshole!” I yell in return.
His eyes blaze and when he takes a step forward. “Last time I checked,
we had an agreement, and you just broke it.” His fingers wrap around my
arm and drag me to the nearest car.
“The bartender,” I remind him over my shoulder.
He glares at me before slamming the door in my face so I can’t say
another word. My chest rises and falls as the adrenaline, rage, and lust fill
my veins. I feel like my body is on fire, tears ready to break over my
cheeks, and my heart is hammering beneath my breastbone, thudding hard
at the realization that I cursed at him.
That there’s a bounty on my head, that I know even though Ari doesn’t
agree with me, he will look for the bartender because I asked.
He’ll do things for me even if he doesn’t agree or like them.
Ari climbs into the car and slams the door. He settles in the seat,
spreading his legs to get comfortable, and sucks his tongue over his cheeks
in agitation. “Matias will stay behind to look for the bartender, but if he is
found, he is going into the basement. I do not trust him.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, keeping my voice light and submissive, wanting
him to know how much I appreciate him doing that.
“You and that wicked tongue.” He doesn’t look at me. Ari looks out the
window instead, but even from where I am sitting, I can see the vivid color
of his eyes reflecting from the glass, glaring at me.
“I’m not sorry,” I dare to say. “You were being protective and
hardheaded.”
“And I will always be,” he growls, still not looking at me.
The rest of the car ride is quiet on the drive home. Gianni is speeding and
the roar of the engine is all that can be heard even over my thundering
thoughts. I like how protective Ari is. I like that the thought of anyone
hurting me sends him into a manic beast.
The longer the silence between us goes on, the more my desire for Ari
heightens. His anger is directed not only at Bianchi but at me because
defying him is something no one else does. As I look out the window,
headlights from the other side of the road blind me for a second before
adjusting to the night again.
I think back to the way Ari protected me, placing himself in front of me
as if he was a bulletproof shield. He’d never be able to protect me from
such violence. Not really. If a bullet went through him to get to me, the pain
I’d feel from losing Ari would outweigh any sting of any weapon. He
wouldn’t be able to protect me from that.
It’s scary how fast I’ve fallen for a man I’m supposed to hate. In such a
short amount of time, I’ve gone from wishing he was dead to hoping he
never dies.
The heart can be so confusing when it comes to love and hate. Is there
really such a difference between the two? Both lead to pain and death. Both
lead down roads of torment, but only one path didn’t stop at a dead end.
There’s a real possibility I’ll be dead in three days. Ari won’t ever accept
that. In his eyes, three days meant time to plan and prep to kill Bianchi and
everything he stood for, so his enemy didn’t get the chance to even touch
me.
The car came to a stop, and I blinked my thoughts away, noticing we are
already home. I don’t remember the ride. Gianni’s eyes peek into the
rearview mirror and his gaze is questionable, sensing the tension between
Ari and me.
Ari steps out into the dark and the stars in the night sky twinkle behind
him. They shine so brightly; the light illuminates the hard edge of his jaw
and how tight his teeth are clenched.
He’s furious, but still, he holds out his hand to help me out of the car.
I take it, wanting nothing more than to be close to him in some way, in
any way he will have me. When I’m out of the car, that’s when the
gentleman in him retreats and he lets go of me, walking away from me. I’m
left staring at his back and when he opens the front door, he leaves it agape
for anyone to enter.
“He’ll come around.” Gianni slams the car door as he gets out. “The one
thing that makes Ari so different than Carmine is Ari feels deeper, even if
he denies it. He wears his heart on his sleeve and he doesn’t fool anyone the
way he seems to fool himself. Give him time, he’ll come around. He’s…
processing. He’s planning. He’s worrying but he will find a way to protect
you. Go to him.”
“I don’t think he wants me around,” I say carefully as if there are
eggshells around me that I’m afraid of breaking.
“He always wants you around. Never question that. He doesn’t want me
around or his twin, but you? He’ll always welcome you, Rosie.”
“He’s mad.”
He nods, not trying to make me feel better. “He is, but he isn’t mad at
you. He’s mad at the situation.”
I know one thing that Gianni doesn’t.
Ari is mad at me, but in a different way because I broke the mutual
agreement.
We are not to curse at one another, and I called him an asshole. If I
remember correctly, he said he would bend me over his lap and spank me.
I’m not sure he would, but the threat sends a spark of curiosity down my
spine. I don’t think I’d like it, but I also think he knows that. I don’t want to
give up that much control to someone and I’m not a fan of pain, but if it is
something he wants to try, then I’m willing to try anything with him.
“Have a good night, Gianni. And thank you for everything,” I tell him,
giving him a quick hug.
“You’re welcome. And don’t worry,, no harm will come to you.” He
narrows his eyes as he tugs on the straightened strand. “I like it better curly,
just so you know.”
I chuckle with exhaustion. “Me too. This is too much to keep up with.”
I head into the house just as the second car pulls into the driveway and
Matias gets out of the front seat. I wave at him before stepping into the
house. It’s dark, quiet, and the only hint that someone is inside, is the faint
glow of the bedroom light casting down the hallway.
I follow it and notice the door is cracked, explaining why the light is so
faint. When I push it open, I hear the spray of the shower. Steam rolls into
the bedroom from the bathroom giving the air a humid feel.
I shut the door, locking it so no one could burst in and interrupt us.
I’m nervous. I haven’t initiated anything. Sex has been mutual, but I’ve
never been the one to go to him for pleasure. I want to tonight. My body is
alive for him. It burns for him. My nerves feel raw and bare and the only
way they can be soothed is if I feel his touch.
We have an agreement. He keeps me safe. I give him a baby. While I
haven’t been able to fulfill my end of the contract yet because it’s too early,
I want to, and the urge to give him, us, a child, to be a family is what I want.
I want to drown myself in the fantasy of it because no matter how much
reassurance he gives me, I might die in three days.
And Ari is the closest thing to family that I’ve had in a long time, minus
my brother. If I want to be honest, the moment he can come home, he’ll be
a part of this family. The one Ari has created here for me, for us, because
while how we came together isn’t traditional, I think I’m meant to be here.
This is where my brother and I belonged.
I undress, slipping off my high heels first, and groan in relief when my
feet aren’t forced to be in such a high, awkward position. I’ve never been
the high-heel-wearing type. Gripping the zipper that travels along my side, I
pull it down, letting it drop at my feet, then I take off the expensive jewelry
Ari got me, placing it on my nightstand, then take a deep breath to steady
my nerves.
What if he doesn’t want me? What if he has decided I’m more trouble
than I am worth?
There’s only one way to find out.
I brave the steam, the heat bursting across my face. The glass of the stall
is fogged, and I can see the outline of Ari’s body as he stands in the shower.
He’s beautiful.
Opening the door, I step inside. His back is to me, and the water is
raining down on his head. His muscles contract when he feels my palm land
on his lower back.
“Rosie,” he says without looking at me, but he doesn’t sound angry.
“Ari.” I graze his torso until I wrap my arms around him, my fingers
settling in the trimmed patch of hair above his cock.
My breasts press against his back and his ass curves perfectly against me,
our bodies fitting like a puzzle piece.
“What are you doing in here?”
His words sting and I almost pull away but decide not to and show him I
don’t want to be anywhere else.
“I can’t touch my husband?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to after everything.” He turns around and my
hands slip to his round ass. His cock is hard, curling up and over his belly
button. The vein protrudes on the side, pumping the length to full mast.
“After everything, I only want to touch you more.”
And I never want to stop.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ari
Rosie wraps her hand around my cock and squeezes. The hands a delicious
slide as she gives me a hesitant stroke.
I push her against the glass of the stall. “I thought you didn’t want to fuck
me,” I remind her of what she said to me just as her index finger traces the
crown of my cock.
“Shut up, Ari.”
I grin just before she kisses me which has me cupping the back of her
head. I groan into her mouth, feeling more desperate than usual. I need her.
I need to have her. Being inside her, filling her with every drop my body
possesses isn’t enough. If I could, I’d merge our souls as one, our bodies,
our minds, and then there wouldn’t be this lingering fear of something
happening to her.
It’s dark and twisted to want to overtake her like that, but it would be the
only way to truly keep her safe. As much as I want to always be by her side,
there will be times when it isn’t possible, and whoever is guarding her
might fail, and she’ll be taken from me.
I can’t allow that to happen.
This spitfire of a woman has become everything I hold dear in this world
and because of that, I have something to lose. Bianchi knows that and to hit
me where it hurts, he’ll use her to his advantage. It doesn’t matter if it takes
my last breath, but I can’t allow that to happen.
Our tongues collide and she doesn’t fight me for dominance when I give
her more, pressing my lips so painfully, I can feel her teeth. I touch
everywhere I can. My hands groped where I can reach. My tongue tastes the
depth of her mouth. I cup her face, unable to get enough of her kiss.
God, if I was on the brink of death, I’d want her kiss to give me my final
breath.
She strokes me, her hand slowly twisting my shaft before pulling it
forward. I groan into her mouth, showing her how much her touch affects
me. I’m not in a hurry. I don’t want to rush this. I want to enjoy the feeling
of my wife’s wet body against mine and I want to hear every gasp and moan
that escapes her.
I want my lungs to only consume her air, so I am only living for her.
It’s unhealthy to want someone so much.
I lift her leg and wrap it around my hip. While she’s touching me with no
rush, just enjoying me in her hand, wanting to prolong this just like I want
to, I skim my fingers down her stomach until they disappear between her
legs. My fingers slip through her pussy, already so slick and ready for me. I
could replace my fingers with my cock and slide home, but I want to have
her body singing for me before that happens.
With tender, slow strokes, I glide through her lips, grazing her clit. She
stops kissing me, gasping for a split second before finding my lips again.
We don’t say anything to each other. We’re too consumed.
With my other hand, I knead her tits, plucking on her beaded nipples. Her
body trembles and her hand tightens around me which has me grunting,
pressing my bodyweight against her. I sink my fingers into her tight heat,
and she tosses her head back, the expanse of her throat too tempting to
deny.
I nibble against her pulse, licking the water droplets from her flesh.
Fuck, I’m thirsty but it isn’t water I want. It wouldn’t be enough to
quench the need clawing at my throat.
In and out, my fingers drift. Not enough to make her come, but enough to
bring her pleasure, enough to drive her crazy just like she’s making me.
Her hand is soft, tentative, and she loosens her grip on me, dragging her
fingertips along my girth. An unstable breath escapes me and for the first
time in my life, goosebumps arise all over my body from another woman’s
touch.
“You’re cold,” she whispers into my ear, a shiver slipping down my
spine.
The water is warm. The steam is hot. Her body is melting against mine.
The last thing I feel is cold.
“Far from it.” I take her other hand and skim it down my chest, pressing
it against my heart so she can feel the wild beat. “So fucking far.” I rob her
lips again, moving them against mine like waves crashing against one
another like waves against the shore, melting into one another as one of us
drifts back only for the other to come forward.
She’s a magnet, a pull, a force to be reckoned with. Her fire is bright and
harsh and if people are afraid of getting burned or feeling pain, it’s best to
stay away from someone like Rosie. Her tongue is hexed but her soul is
pure and in order to touch it, you have to walk through her blaze.
She’s worth it.
Every scar. Every burn. Every time she opens her mouth to protect
herself and she spews that fire, I’ll gladly drench myself in her pain if it
means she feels better.
I pump my fingers into her, burying them as far as I can without.
Nothing will stop me from taking her, nothing will stop me from
claiming her, and nothing will stop me from breeding her.
She’s mine. She’ll be the mother of my children. They will be mine to
protect.
Her innocence, her guilt, her every single fucking emotion—I own it.
“What’s wrong?” she asks through hooded eyes, rolling her swollen lips
together.
I push her wet hair from her forehead and peer into her round blue eyes.
Her lashes are stuck together, tiny water droplets hanging from the tips and
with every blink, one manages to drip down her cheek.
I step in closer, pushing my fingers deeper somehow and she gasps.
“I’m just thinking,” I brush my lips over hers without kissing her. “How
there’s nothing stopping me from fucking you. Your virginity. It was mine
and mine alone. I’m able to be this deep because I’ve made your innocence
my fucking throne.”
“You’re fucking ridiculous.” She nips at my bottom lip, sucking it into
her mouth and I moan a snarl as she lets it go with a pop.
I shift my hand, pressing the heel of my palm against her clit while my
two fingers stay inside her, motioning gentle waves every so often to make
that quiet little gasp puff from her.
Leaning forward, I bite her ear and chuckle. It’s dark and menacing,
promising nothing but exactly what she just said. “What did you just say to
me?”
“Nothing.” Her fingers dig into my shoulders, a small twinge of pain
rolling down each as she gets too close to the healing wounds. “I didn’t say
anything.”
“We really need to do something with that mouth.” I pull my fingers
from her and drop her leg, pressing my hand against her shoulder to push
her to her knees. “Maybe I give you too much time to speak your mind,
Tesoro.” I rub the tip of my cock over her lips, tracing the plump clouds and
leaving a thin trail of pre-come coating them. “Suck me.”
Her eyes peer up at me through her dark lashes, storming with lust. Her
pupils grow big, and I witness the moment the fight leaves her and her want
to be a good fucking girl for me takes over. She wraps her mouth around the
tip, giving the crown an experimental flick of her tongue along the
underside. Her lips stretch wide to accommodate my girth and I nearly
come just watching her do that.
“Fuck, you look good on your knees, Rosie. I think it’s my favorite
position to see you in.” I gather her hair in my hand to keep the wet strands
from falling in her face.
She hums, the vibrations sending down my cock and I jerk to my tiptoes,
slapping my palm against the wall. Rosie has my cock slip from her mouth,
and she dips her tongue in the slit.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” I pant, not wanting her to stop.
“I love how sensitive you are. I love how good I make you feel, but did
others? You know, make you feel this good too? The thought of them
bringing the same sounds out of you, makes me…”
I cuff my hand around her throat and yank her to her feet, crowding her
space until she can’t move. Her nipples scrape against my chest and even
that small touch as a groan building in my throat.
“Every touch from you, every kiss, even when you look at me, no one
has compared. My pleasure, my sounds, my groans are yours and they
belong to no one else. No one has made me so vocal as you do. No one has
ever made me want to keep going until my lungs stop working. I might
have more experience than you, but I do not have more in experiencing
absolute bliss. That belongs to you, Rosie. Only you. Every lick, every slide
of my cock inside you, it’s like the first fucking time and the desire you
make me feel nearly makes me violent. No one does that to me. No one else
has ever made me feel like that.” I push her onto her knees and grip my
cock. “Now, make me moan for you, Tesoro.”
She takes my cock into her hand and sucks me deep. I hit the back of her
throat and she gags, her eyes watering, but she doesn’t stop. Rosie
continues to take me too far, choking and coughing. Her muscles contract
around the tip which has me gasping.
Tilting my head back, the water rushing over me, wetting my hair, and
relishing her mouth on me.
I’m a lucky man.
Her hand cradles my sack, gently rolling each orb in her hand while
sucking me, her tongue twisting around the stalk, tasting me as if I’m her
favorite treat.
“Rosie,” I groan, tightening my hand in her hair. “Jesus, you’re too good
at this. That’s it. Oh, fuck, just like that.” My chin hits my chest so I can
watch her. Staring at the ceiling isn’t as amazing as witnessing my cock in
her mouth.
The rush of heat to my cock has me pulling from her mouth and I stop
myself from coming. I grip myself until it hurts and the threat of my orgasm
fades.
“Why did you do that?” she frowns, her hand pausing between her legs.
My Tesoro was touching herself while she sucked me.
I reach to turn the water off, not wanting to finish showering because all I
can think about is getting her in bed.
I jerk her against me and run my fingers down the divot of her spine, the
curve tantalizing before reaching her ass. “Because from this moment on,
my come won’t be wasted spilling down your throat.” I push the door open
and step out. “You have five seconds to get in the bed before I bend you
over this sink and use you.”
She snickers, running by me but not before I get a chance to spank her
ass.
She looks over her shoulder, surprised, and she bites her lip before
crawling onto the bed. She lies on her stomach but keeps her ass in the air.
It sways left and right, tempting me. Her knees slide apart, giving me the
view so many men would kill for.
Her pussy is on display, and I caress her left cheek as I stand behind her.
Our bodies are still wet from the shower and the sheets are becoming
soaked from her hair, but I don’t care. They will dry eventually.
“Did you like that?” I pop her ass again, not too hard because I don’t
think she’d like that, but just hard enough to leave a sting.
“Maybe…not so hard? A little softer.”
I do as she wishes on the other cheek, and she moans, arching her back as
she clutches the sheets.
“Oh, you do,” I croon in delight, gripping her cheeks in my hands. “I did
say you needed to be punished for cursing at me.”
“I’m sorry,” she moans as I drift my index finger down her cunt, feeling
how wet she is. “I didn’t mean it.”
I spank her lightly again, wanting to give her what she likes. I’m not into
big punishment but seeing her skin redden from the light slaps turns me on.
“Don’t lie to me. I know you meant it.”
She shakes her head as I give her another slap.
“The longer you lie, the longer I go without giving you my cock.”
“Ari,” she whines.
I spank her again. “Tell me.”
“Fine. I meant it in the moment but not now.”
Surprising her, I slip a finger into her at the same time I spank her again.
“Ari! Fuck!” she curses.
“That mouth of yours, Tesoro,” I tsk, bringing my hand down on her
perfect, round ass again. “We really need to work on that.”
“Ari, please,” she whimpers. “I’ll be good.”
I give her one more slap before settling behind her, my knees sinking into
the mattress. I curl over her, slipping an additional finger inside her.
“Oh, My Sweet Tesoro, you’re always good,” I whisper, pushing in and
out, faster and faster. “Always so good for me even when your mouth gets
you in trouble.” I nibble on the shell of her ear. “And I fucking love that
mouth.”
“Ari. Oh my god, it feels so good like this. I’m already close. I’m close.
Don’t stop. Oh god, don’t stop.”
I press my hand between her shoulders to keep her pinned to the bed and
stare at my fingers pumping in and out of her cunt. She’s so wet and my
cock would easily slip in without issue. It won’t cause her any pain, but I
want to get her to come first.
Because the moment I feel her heat around me cock, I’m going to lose it.
I have no shame in admitting that. Again, I’m thankful I can keep fucking
or I’d be horrified to ever have sex again.
Rosie constantly keeps me on edge. It would make sense that my wife
would always have be on the brink of orgasm.
I add another finger in, groaning when I feel slight resistance. I ease out,
my lips parting as I add more of my weight while I push. I ease my cock
between her thighs, needing to feel her against me, and the crown pushes
against her clit.
Even that simple touch has electricity dancing along my shaft.
I pick up the pace, fucking her with my fingers the way I want to. The
sounds reverberating through the room have my muscles flexing. The slaps
of my hand meeting her cunt get louder the closer she gets to orgasm.
“Ari! Yes, god,” she groans, yelling into the mattress as she climaxes.
The sheets bunch under her tight grip and her body rocks against me,
seeking more.
“Oh, that’s a good girl,” I praise her, pulling my fingers free and licking
her taste clean.
She flips onto her back, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy, and her nipples
tighten as they kiss the cold air. My palms admire her body, touching every
curve and nook. My thumbs brush over the tight peaks, beaded and a
perfect rosy pink. My mouth waters and bend down, sucking one nipple
into my mouth. Her body bends to my will, arching into me and I’m able to
fit more of her soft breast between my lips.
I roll the morsel between my teeth, giving it a sharp bite before releasing
it and she hisses, but it ends in a satisfied moan. I blow air on the wet bead,
watching it grow tighter.
“You’re so good for me,” I tell her, settling between her legs at last. “So
fucking perfect.”
My cock is heavy, aching, and the moment I wrap my hand around
myself, the touch almost makes me come.
Almost.
The warm heat of her kisses the tip and I finally sink in, and we moan
together in relief as we finally feel one another.
“So fucking good.” I sink in until I can’t anymore.
“Ari,” she sighs as if she’s finally complete, the look of pleasure and
relief across her face has my chest warming in a way that’s dangerously
close to love.
I take her hands and pin them above her head, kissing her again as I pull
out, then slide in.
Just like I thought, on the second stroke, I groan into her ear, filling her
with every drop as my orgasm hits me. I thrust harder, burying myself
deeper so my come gets as deep as possible. She becomes wetter from my
climax, and I pick up the pace. Her nails dig into my ass and her teeth sink
into my shoulder, marking me.
The slight edge of pain makes me arch my back, groaning. A rush of
possession takes over and I pull out, flipping her onto her hands and knees.
I sink into her again. “So fucking tight for me. This pussy is all for me,
isn’t it?” The hold I have on her hips has to hurt but I swear, if I don’t see
bruises on them tomorrow, I’ll be disappointed. “It’s made for me. Say it.” I
lift her up by her hair, snarling in her ear. “Fucking tell me.”
“All for you,” she slurs. “Yours.”
I shove her face into the mattress and her cries are muffled as the bed
rocks in tandem with every thrust.
“You’ll do well to remember that.” I look down and my shaft is coated in
my come. My pelvis slaps against her ass and she reaches back to touch me,
turning her head to the side to scream my name.
I’ll never get tired of hearing her.
She comes again, hard and fast, her muscles clenching around me.
I try to hold back, but I slam her down on my cock as hard as possible,
roaring another release.
“Ari, I can’t. It’s too much. I can’t,” she gasps, sagging against the bed.
I turn her to her side and settled behind her, our come leaking down her
thighs and making a mess. My rock-hard cock fills her again and I shiver
from the sensitivity, but the extraordinary cushion of her cunt feels so good.
My chin rests against her shoulder and I whisper into her ear. “I’m never
going to leave this body tonight. I’m going to fill you over and over until
you can’t physically take anymore.” I kiss her shoulder, the weight of her
breast fitting perfectly in my hand.
She turns her head, meeting my lips in a messy kiss and her arm reaches
back so she can touch me. “I don’t ever want you to leave.”
Oh, I’m never going anywhere.
And neither is she.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rosie
I gasp awake and when my eyes open, I see Ari above me, his hair a mess
from a restless night’s sleep because we were up all night doing this.
“I’m sorry, Tesoro,” he says, before tilting his head back to expose his
thick throat. His muscles are tense and the tendons in his neck are tense. “I
had to have you again. I had to feel you.”
“Don’t apologize.” I stretch my arms, drifting my hands down his
muscular chest.
The wounds on his shoulder are better, but still irritated, but he doesn’t
seem to care. My eyes rake down his chest, his abs tensing with every flex
of his hips, and the Adonis belt traveling down to his cock sends a wave of
desire drowning any sleep that was hanging on.
This man is gorgeous, and I can’t believe he is mine.
“How is it you feel better every time?” he mumbles, sounding half-drunk
or in a trance. “Every fucking time.” He flips us until he is on his back and
I’m looking down at him.
He’s usually the one in control.
I don’t want to disappoint him. He must sense my nerves because the
grip, the need on me lessons, and my hips miss the rough hold already.
He springs one of my curls, smiling softly at me, and traces my jaw, the
ghost of his touch breezing down my neck. Ari hums with a small nod,
tracing my collarbone next, then traveling down my arm, back up, then
turning his hand until his knuckles rub down the middle of my chest.
It’s the way he’s touching me, like he is memorizing every line by body
has created, and the way he takes me in has me relaxing.
“That’s a good girl,” he praises, noticing when the worry of
disappointing him fades. “You look so amazing on top of me, Tesoro.
You’re beautiful.”
And he makes me feel it. His eyes are searing into me as if he can’t get
enough of just…looking at me.
He palms my tits, something I’ve noticed he really loves to do.
“I just…want you to feel good,” I explain, placing my hands on his chest
for leverage.
“You always make me feel good. You could stay like this forever, atop of
me, unmoving, and I swear, I’d still feel you in my bones,” he says, owning
another piece of my heart.
Ari is romantic as much as he is possessive. It’s hard not to love him, but
I can’t go there yet. I can’t love him. It’s too soon, but the emotions I’m
having are big and fast. If he told me tomorrow he wanted to end our
agreement, I’d put on a brave face and give him what he wants.
It’s when I’d be alone I’d miss. It’s when I’d be alone I’d feel his absence
and I’d break.
He holds onto my hips again, his thumbs pressing against the crease of
my groin. Ari pushes me back, then pulls me forward and I gasp when my
clit rubs against his pelvis.
“Oh fuck,” his eyes close. “Maybe having you on top isn’t a good idea.”
“If it has that look on your face, it’s a great idea.” I smirk, rolling my
hips. I push back and thrust forward, moaning when he hits that spot inside
me.
Gaining confidence, I move faster, digging my fingers into his pecs while
I use his body to support my weight and quicken my pace.
“Rosie, ah, damn it. Ah, you have to slow down,” he warns, his eyes
traveling all over me then settling on my breasts.
I can see why women like this position so much. I’m close. I feel close,
at least. The faster I ride him, the more the swirl of my orgasm pools in my
lower belly. I fuck him harder, an erotic cry spilling from my lips. The bed
slams against the wall and every motion along his cock brings me closer to
falling over the edge.
“Fuck, Tesoro. You know how to ride my cock. That’s it. Use me. Take
what you need. Just like that. God—” he tosses his head back and growls,
helping me move faster than I physically can by rocking my hips back and
forth. “You’re close. Come for me. Come on, come for me.”
I lift my arms above my head, my toes curling and my moans breaking
when the pleasure becomes too much to hold in. This orgasm is different.
It’s more intense, longer, and I feel it from my head down to my toes. My
entire body buzzes.
“Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh god, I don’t want it to stop. You feel so good. You’re
so deep. Ari.” I ride him through my orgasm and he’s staring at me as if I’m
the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
I become slicker, the sound carrying all around us.
“Keep going,” he tells me, continuing to rock my hips as my orgasm
fades.
“I can’t,” I shake my head.
“Yes, you can.” He sits up, cupping the back of my neck to pull me down
to kiss him. “You’re going to come again because you’re already close. I
can feel it.”
“Ari, I can’t.” I contradict myself, riding him again in determined
motions to get myself there. “I’m so sensitive. Why do you feel so good?”
His fingers knead my ass, gripping me tightly to fuck his cock faster.
“Because I’m yours, Tesoro. And you are mine,” he explains, leaning
back on one hand so he can watch my body move against him.
My wedding band catches the morning light coming through the
windows and I realize I no longer feel like something for him to have like a
trophy added to his shelf. I belong to him.
I claw my fingernails into his shoulders and press my forehead against
his before kissing him with trembling lips. I pour my pleasure down his
throat as another orgasm bowls over me, tightening every muscle in my
body. I clench around his cock, my head feeling light and dizzy.
His warm come shoots inside, filling me to the brim like he does every
single time.
I collapse on top of him, unable to keep myself up with how hard my
body is trembling. He wraps his arms around me and kisses my forehead,
his fingers playing with the soft ends of my hair.
“Good morning, Tesoro.”
I snicker, smiling against his chest. “A great morning,” I correct,
snuggling into him harder.
His cock is still hard and lodged inside me, but knowing him, he’ll keep
it there until it softens completely. It’s absolutely obsessed with getting me
pregnant and the thought used to terrify me, but now, I like it. I like
knowing a man wants me so much, he wants to do everything in his power
to keep me.
I could be pregnant right now, but it’s too early to tell. I wouldn’t be
surprised. He has come inside me so many times, I’ve lost count.
A relaxed exhale leaves me and his fingers dance sensually across my
back causing my eyes to become heavy again.
“This is nice,” I mutter, my cheek warm against his chest and the strong
thump of his heart sings into my ear. “You’re more comfortable than you
look.”
He chuckles, kissing the top of my head and his grazing touch doesn’t
falter as we continue to lie there. “I’m glad you find comfort in me,” he
says, but it’s the way he says it that makes me realize he’s right.
His body is hard with muscle, so he isn’t a pillow, but it is him I find
comfort in. I’d rather lay on him than on this mattress any day.
I’m not sure how long we lie there, but I do fall back asleep and the next
time I wake up, I’m alone in bed with the comforter tucked tight around my
body like a cocoon.
He tucked me in.
Grinning, I rub my eyes and yawn, glancing at the clock to see that’s it is
nearly ten in the morning. I haven’t slept that late in ages. The door swings
open and I sit up on my forearms to see Ari wheeling in a cart full of food.
“I was thinking breakfast in bed and having a day where we watch TV,
nap, and just…” he searches for the words, unable to find them.
“Be together?”
He grins, the boyish smile winning over more of my heart until I wonder
if there is anything left for him to take.
“Yeah, I want to just be with you. I don’t want outside drama. I don’t
want us to worry about what’s going on with Bianchi. I don’t want to think
about the danger you’re in. I want to get to know you outside of the havoc,
Rosie.” He pushes the cart by the bed and sits down, the mattress dipping
from his weight. He looks at me as if I’m the stars dancing around the moon
—completely hypnotized. “Does that sound okay?”
“It sounds perfect. I’d love that, but how will we watch TV? You don’t
have one in here.”
He snorts, reaching for a remote on his nightstand and he presses a
button. A humming sound comes from in front of us. From the ceiling, a
large screen lowers until it nearly touches the floor. It takes up the entire
wall.
“Woah,” I say in awe, staring at the largest screen I’ve ever seen in a
house. It’s like being in your own personal movie theater. “I didn’t know
they made screens this big unless it was for the theater.”
“They don’t. I had to order this custom. It isn’t something you can find in
stores.” He pours a cup of coffee, adding cream and sugar how I like before
handing me the cup.
I inhale the aroma and already my mind awakens and the heaviness of
wanting to go back to the sleep vanishes. Sipping it, I hum. “Wow, this is
delicious.”
“French press. It doesn’t get better than that.”
“What other goodies do you have over there?” I mumble, the smell of
food making my stomach grumble.
If I’m not mistaken, a faint pink hue fevers his cheeks. “I might have
gotten a little of everything. We have your breakfast foods. Waffles, bacon,
strawberries, whipped cream, eggs. Then French toast because who doesn’t
love French toast?” he points to ever platter. “And then bagels, but then I
thought maybe she’d want lunch, so down below I have a few hoagies,
salad, burgers, and then at the very bottom snacks like popcorn and candy
for the movies.”
“You thought of everything,” I say, setting my coffee down.
“I meant it when I said I don’t want to leave this bed today. Matias is in
charge, and I told them to pretend I don’t exist. We are in our own world
today.”
I hold the blanket against my chest, trying to think about the last time
someone did something so nice for me. My brother stealing the gem could
count. He was thinking about our family, but in a more intimate gesture, no
one has done anything like this for me.
“So, what would the Mrs. like?” he asks as he makes his own coffee.
The title makes me nibble on my bottom lip. “French toast with whipped
cream and strawberries sound good. Oh, and bacon. I love bacon. Do we
have syrup? And then after, I might have a bagel.”
He raises his brows, then chuckles. He stabs the toast with a fork and
puts it on a fresh plate. “I guess we’ve worked up an appetite, haven’t we?”
his voice darkens, and he drops a dollop of whipped cream in the middle,
then adds a few slices of strawberries. His eyes slide from the plate to meet
mine and he sucks the tip of his finger into his mouth to lick the whipped
cream off.
How is such a simple, innocent gesture so sinful?
“We did,” I agree, memories from last night and this morning flip
through my mind.
All of his filthy words, everything he ever said, how he sounded when he
came, my entire body responds to him. I’m heated and ready for him again.
“You can’t fool me. I know what you’re thinking about.” He grabs a
small silver container that looks like a mini teapot.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I huff.
“Oh? I suppose I’m the only one thinking about how we ravaged one
another last night? Tell me when,” he warns lightly, pouring the syrup on
my French toast.
He keeps pouring, the liquid pooling so much that he begins to look at
me with concern.
“Okay. You can stop,” I say, my mouth watering when I see all that
delicious syrup.
“Tesoro,” he tsks. “This isn’t healthy. We’re going to have to cut down
on the sweets.”
I take the plate from him and stab the side of my fork. “You try that, and
I might just kill you.” I shove a big chunk of French toast in my mouth and
the syrup is so heavy, it dribbles down my chin. I keep my mouth shut and
my cheeks full as I smile at him.
“You’re an absolute wreck.” He swipes his thumb over my chin,
gathering the syrup. “My wreck, nevertheless.” He sucks his thumb into his
mouth, and I have to focus on my food before I end up tossing it to the side
to have my way with him.
He makes himself a bagel, waffle, and adds eggs to his plate. “What do
you want to watch while we eat?”
“Let’s watch scary movies all day.”
“Scary movies? I’d think you’d want something lighter considering
everything going on right now.”
“That’s different. I want to watch classics with you.” I finish off one
piece of toast and dive into the other, but not before munching down on a
piece of bacon.
“If you’re sure. I thought you’d want a romantic comedy or a show?”
“We have the rest of our lives for that right? I want a scary movie.”
I realize what I said and almost stop eating, but I don’t want to make
things awkward, so I continue cutting my French toast, hoping he doesn’t
notice the slip-up. I don’t want to make his more than he wants it to be.
A business transaction. It just so happens we get along for the most part
now which makes this agreement much easier. Having sex is not only
amazing but saves him money from having to go to a client to go through
that process of embryo implantation.
He picks a movie then presses another button for the blackout curtains to
darken the room. The light from the screen is enough for me to eat. When
I’m done, I ask for more bacon.
“I feel like I’ve been starving you. You haven’t been eating enough,” he
frowns. “I need to take better care of you.”
“You take great care of me. I’m only this hungry because you made me
work out for so long,” I tease him, nudging his shoulder.
I swear, his chest puffs out with pride.
What a caveman.
We eat until I can’t stand to take another bite. “Is there a mimosa on your
cart of never-ending possibilities?”
“There’s orange juice, but no alcohol. You could already be pregnant. We
have to be safe.”
He pours me a glass of orange juice and I wait for the defiant nature to
come out, to tell him I’m probably not pregnant and it isn’t up to him what I
can and can’t drink until we know for sure.
But I don’t because I don’t want to fight for no reason when I know
there’s a chance he could be right.
“And no drinking for you, means no drinking for me.”
“You’re very cautious,” I say, snuggling against his side before downing
the orange juice and handing him the empty glass.
A scream comes from the speakers because a woman just got killed and
even though it’s loud, I barely hear over his next words.
He nods slowly, tracing a wrinkle in the sheet that is pooled around his
waist. “You’re right. I am. I suppose it comes from my childhood. You
haven’t met my oldest brother Carmine and his wife, but my brother took
the brunt of our father’s abuse to keep me and Matias safe from him.
Everything we did to protect each other, every word we said, we were
always cautious, and I suppose that’s ingrained in me in some way to be a
little bit scared of what can happen if I don’t get ahead of the rules.”
I snuggle into his chest deeper, hating to know he had a bad childhood.
“I’m sorry.”
“What for?” he kisses the top of my head.
“For your dad. For Carmine. For how you had to be growing up. That
wasn’t fair to you.”
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago, but I suppose some habits have stuck
with me.”
“Besides the bad, is there a favorite memory of when you were a kid?”
“Hmm,” he ponders while staring at the movie screen, but I know he isn’t
watching the movie. It’s more like he is staring into space. “I do.” He
smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and it’s almost sad. “So there was this
one night, it was me and Matias’s birthday, and our father never had
anything planned. Ever. It wasn’t a big deal. Matias and I had learned we
couldn’t count on him, and we never needed anything, I guess. Anyway, my
father was having a party one night. He invited all the drug dealers and
murderers, and other mafia bosses to our estate. It was a black-tie event.
Rich. Classy. The best of the best. He didn’t want us to get in the way so he
locked us in the basement so we couldn’t get out.”
I gasp, wondering what kind of parent would do that to their child.
“It’s okay.” He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles.
I clear my throat. “What happened next?”
“We hadn’t eaten all day. We were hungry. Cold. I remember Matias and
I huddling for warmth. The basement wasn’t finished yet, so it was dark and
almost wet, you know, the feeling?”
I nod, knowing exactly what that is like.
“I remember thinking I wanted to run away or die; anything was better
than being with a man who hated us so much.”
“This is a horrible memory. I don’t know why you say it’s happy. It
isn’t.” I wipe my eye.
“I’m not done telling it yet.” He lifts my chin. “Don’t cry for me, Tesoro.
You’re borrowing sorrow that is no longer there.” He brushes my tears
away and the side of his lips curl to the left. “This is where it gets happy.
Carmine always tried to take care of us. He was more of a father than our
father was, but he had things to do too. He couldn’t watch us all the time,
but he tried. He didn’t have much of a life either. When we were down in
that basement, I was convinced we would die down there, and our dad
would have forgotten us. I felt—we felt—alone. I don’t know why I didn’t
think Carmine would go through hell to get to us, probably because I didn’t
think he truly cared that much. I was convinced he only had an obligation to
us, but while the music was in full swing, loud, vibrating the walls, so loud
that the noise of the window being broken into to get into the basement
couldn’t be heard.”
He smiles, a big one, but still, his eyes are sad. “It was Carmine. I hadn’t
seen him in a few days. I thought he had finally left, but no. Dad had locked
him away too, only Carmine got the hell beat out of him. He had black
eyes, a busted lip, and marks all over his body. He looked horrible, but
when he climbed down from the window, he landed on the table and
reached back out the window, his arms full. I’ll never forget what he said.
Something so simple. ‘How are my two favorite people in the world
doing?’ he asked us.”
Ari shakes his head. “I didn’t think I was anyone’s favorite person, but
Carmine sat with us on the floor, and he had these cheap fucking party hats
that he put on us, then took out a small cake, then added eight candles. He
sang us happy birthday and then we played Scrabble. A game he brought
with him. Things changed for me at that moment. When I blew out my
candles, I remembered wishing my father would die so Carmine could take
over. Eventually, it happened, but that night while it sucked, the fact that
Carmine did all that to celebrate our birthday, it’s honestly the memory that
means so much to me. It isn’t rainbows and butterflies, but it was
everything else in between.”
I hug him tight, hating that I ever caused him pain by adding to his
wounds. He’s been through enough of it.
“Your brother sounds like a good man,” I say. “I’m glad you had him.”
“He is a good man. I mean, he’ll roll it off his shoulders and say it wasn’t
a big deal, but it was. He knows that. Enough about me, what about you,
tell me about a good memory from your childhood.”
“I can’t remember one.” I shrug my shoulder. “I’ve been working for my
family for as long as I can remember. I know there was a time when my
parents were happier and weren’t miserable, but I hardly remember them.
They are more like flashes? Like I remember my dad smiling when I
handed him something I drew or my mom cheering for something I did, but
I can’t remember that either. It’s like all those memories went away when
the store started to fail, and I had to work. It was about survival at that
point. My parents weren’t ever abusive, but they were neglectful. I think I
shut down when I was younger. To block it all out. It was about taking care
of my brother at that point. We only had each other but you know, he got to
the age when he was too cool for his family, which is fine, I remember that
age too, and it was just me for a little bit. My brother and I are very close
now and I know he tries to help me when he can. It’s why he took the gem.
He meant well.”
“I promise, I’ll bring him home to us for you. Do you believe me?”
“I believe you.”
I’ve never believed in anyone more than him.
Not even myself.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ari
It’s been forty-eight hours since the threat of Bianchi. We’ve been planning,
preparing by gaining more weapons, but mostly we have been trying to find
intel as to why this gem is so important. I want to know why my wife’s life
is in danger because of it. Bianchi should be financially set. This diamond
should mean nothing to him but since it does, it has me too curious. The
more I know about this diamond and Bianchi, the better chance I have of
protecting Rosie.
We’ve grown so close over the last two days and I’m starting to feel like
this is more than a contract or more than an agreement.
It’s bigger.
I kiss her cheek and she grins, flipping a page in her book.
“What was that for?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to do that,” I say, kissing her cheek again.
“You two make me sick.” Matias enters the room with Gianni.
Gianni laughs but then sees me narrow my gaze at him and he covers it
with a cough.
Smart man.
He also has his laptop tucked under his arm. “I have information you’re
going to want to know about Bianchi.”
I open the fridge and grab a sweet tea, handing one to Rosie. Twisting the
cap off, I hand Rosie’s to her first. When I sit down next to her, I place my
hand on her lower back to ease the tension. The moment Gianni said he had
information.
“What is it? Don’t leave anything out.”
Gianni nods, opening the laptop then punching in his password so fast, I
couldn’t tell anyone what it is.
“Okay, so this will be a lot. We did a deep dive and had to sweet talk a
few officers down at the department.” He rubs his eyes and yawns. The
dark circle under his eyes proves he hasn’t slept. He’s been working
tirelessly to find out more information. “I was able to get access to
Bianchi’s phone records. Don’t ask how.” He presses another button and a
few pictures come up with text. “This man right here—” he points to a bald
man with a skull tattoo covering his entire head “—His name is Zander
Rostova. He’s a Russian black-market gem dealer. From what I understand,
this diamond has been in the Bianchi family for generations. Other than
that, I haven’t been able to get more information from the internet, but we
may or may not captured one of Bianchi’s men and he might be downstairs
tied to a chair.”
“And have you gotten anything out of him?” I ask.
“No. He won’t talk.”
A sardonic noise is all that’s heard, and I realize it’s coming from me. I
stand, unbuttoning my sleeves to roll them to my elbows.
“We’ll see about that,” I state.
“What?” Rosie turns to me and grabs my bicep, digging her hold in so
deep, it almost hurts. “No. What are you doing? You aren’t going down
there.”
“Yes, I am. I have to.” I kiss her forehead. “I have to get every detail I
can so I can protect you. Tomorrow is the end of Bianchi’s deadline. I don’t
know what he has planned. I need to be prepared. I’ll be back. Okay? I want
you to go to the room, turn on the TV, and lock the door. I’ll come for you
when I’m done.”
“Ari, don’t do this. Don’t go there,” she begs, her eyes watering as they
become so big, I can see the whites of them. “I don’t want you to do this.
Have one of them do it.”
“No. This is personal for me. I’ll bleed every drop out of every person
who dares withhold any information that can hurt you or threatens to
physically harm you. I will enjoy the torment I bring upon men who hold
you over me.” My fingers pinch her chin. “No one will take you from me,
Rosie. In order to do that, I have to become the man you hate.”
“I never hated that man,” she admits, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I
didn’t understand him. I do now.” She stands, wiping her cheeks and
snagging her drink to prepare to go to the room. “Please be careful…I—”
I hold my breath, waiting for her to finish her sentence. I know my mind
is playing tricks on me. There’s no way she almost said those words. She
can’t.
“—I’m going to worry,” she says instead. She stands on her tiptoes and
kisses me gently.
“I promise. I’ll be safe. Nothing will keep me from you, Tesoro. No one
can. Make sure you take some snacks. I know how hungry you’ll get,” I
tease which makes her smile.
“Okay.”
“I’ll make sure she’s settled before I join you down there,” Gianni offers.
“We’ll make sure she’s set in the bedroom for a while.”
“Thank you, Gianni. Matias. Lead the way, please.”
Time seems to slow as I walk away from my wife. Her hand doesn’t
leave my arm and the further I walk away; her hand loses its grip, and it
slides down until all that’s touching is our fingers. I don’t let go and neither
does she until we both take our final steps away from one another.
And then her touch is gone and the speed of time returns.
I can’t look back. I won’t. If I do, I’m worried I’ll disappear into the
bedroom with her and never leave. If I’m not careful, I could see myself
giving up everything if it meant vanishing into a private world with her.
“Are you okay?” Matias asks me, gripping my shoulder. “You don’t have
to do this. I’m happy to - I just thought you’d want to.”
“I do. No, I’m fine. I’m just… “ I rub my chest, a heavy ache weighing
me down and everything inside me is telling me to turn around, but I can’t.
“You’re falling in love with her, aren’t you?”
“I am and I’m not ashamed of that.”
“I’ve always been envious of how easily you feel things. I’m numb to
that, I think. After…everything we’ve been through.”
“You aren’t numb, brother. It’s just been a long time since you’ve felt
alive.”
“I’m good with how I am. It’s easier that way.”
I don’t say anything in return to that because nothing I say will change
his mind. I’m worried about him. He deserves everything good in this world
and I’ll make sure I do what I can to make that happen.
Stopping at the end of the hall, I stare down the dark corridor and the
man I am with Rosie disappears somewhere inside me and the man
Carmine prepared me to be, emerges. My footsteps are heavy down the hall,
echoing with determination and the promise to kill.
I kick the door open, and it slams against the wall. The overhead light
above Bianchi’s man reminds me of an interrogation room. He’s tied to a
metal chair that’s sitting over a large drain.
Things can get…messy.
“I’m not telling you shit,” he spits, a wad of blood and saliva almost
touching my loafers. Greasy dark hair hangs in his face, covering one of his
eyes. They are voided of any type of emotion. He’s a pit of nothingness,
destined to die for nothing because the man he serves is nothing.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I say, bending down to cage him in with
my arms. “You don’t realize that this room is where my expertise was
born.” This room is part of the basement Matias and I found ourselves
trapped in. “You are going to scream, and no one is going to care. No one is
going to come for you. No one is going to save you. You will either die
quickly or slowly. The choice is yours.”
He laughs, a manic, malevolent husk that reminds me of what a true
villain sounds like. He’s got no soul, no heart, and his mind has been
poisoned by the way of life Bianchi makes him lead.
“Cut me into pieces and feed me to the fish. I don’t fucking care. I’m not
telling you shit.”
I lean away, nodding in understanding. I push my sleeves up my arms
and stroll to where the door is. Chuckling, I press a button next to the light
switch and the wall begins to move, lifting to show my weapons of choice.
Knives, guns, chemicals, and so many other fun things that I haven’t used
in a while. I run my fingertip over a sharp blade, the lingering pain of the
small stab wound Rosie left pulses, which makes me smile.
Ah, my Tesoro is a natural with a knife. I’ll have to make her one,
custom to fit her hand so it’s the right size and weight.
“Which one do you like?” I ask him, spreading my arm to showcase the
weapons as if they are trophies.
There.
I see it.
The shift in his eyes as he swallows.
He’s afraid.
“What the fuck is this?” the words break mid-question.
I grab a pair of pliers, my favorite weapon. My tried and true. They aren’t
expensive or anything special, but they know how to get the job done.
“Matias? Take off his boots please.”
My brother nods.
“What the fuck?” our captive kicks and slams Matias right in the chest.
My twin barely grunts, snagging his leg to hold him still.
“Is this some sick twin fantasy shit? I’m not into that,” he goads which
only has Matias rolling his eyes.
“Yes, that’s it. We have you tied to a chair for sexual purposes. How did
you know?” Matias smirks, tossing the man’s boots across the room along
with his socks. Matias violently grips the man’s chin until his cheeks pinch
and my brother spits in his face. “I can help but wonder how many
disappointed women you’ve left in your pathetic wake. I should call them
and show them how a real man fucks.”
I chuckle, loving the rage behind our victim’s eyes. Men like him are too
easy to upset. It’s always the same thing with them. Threaten their manhood
and they always have to try to prove themselves.
“I’ll go through your phone later for their numbers.” Matias grabs the
phone from the counter that Gianni must have taken from our new friend
and my brother waves it in his face. “This will be fun.” He tucks the phone
in his pocket, then leans against the wall, crossing his arms.
“What’s your name?”
“Fuck you,” he sneers at me, tugging against the restraints. The more he
tries, the more the spikes on the inside of the cuffs dig into his wrists.
Drops of blood begin to drip onto the floor and Bianchi’s man winces.
See, the Milazzo men are given lessons to withstand torture. It’s another
way we are better than Bianchi.
“We can play that game.” I bend down and open the pliers, pinching his
toenail in the teeth of the tool.
“Wh-What are you doing?”
“I’m showing you what happens when you don’t answer my question.” I
rip his toenail off and he bites back a scream.
His entire body shakes. “Is that all you got?”
“Do you want to find out? Or do you want to tell me why Bianchi needs
that gem before Zander finds him?”
“I’m not telling you shit.”
“Hmm,” I nod, then force open his mouth and grip a tooth with the pliers.
“Are you sure you don’t want to answer?”
He doesn’t change his mind and this time he screams for the heavens to
hear. His tooth clinks onto the floor, dinging against the stainless-steel floor.
“I can do this all night. I will do this for days. Weeks. I will drain your
blood to weaken you only to transfuse it back, but I’ll make sure it’s tainted
with a virus that will kill you. I will cut every inch of your skin. I will
castrate you. I will not think twice of your screams as your die because you
are nothing.” I grip his tongue next and twist. Blood fills his mouth, and he
coughs, red covering his entire mouth.
His shouts of pain fall on deaf ears.
Heaven isn’t listening. There is no God here. I was trained by the Devil
himself.
I am Hell.
And this sorry excuse for a man is the soul I finally get to reap.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rosie
I’m not sure how much time has gone by. The TV is on, but I haven’t
stopped pacing and I’ve chewed my thumbnail until there’s nothing left. It’s
tender and red and if I keep going, I’ll bleed. I’m worried. What if he hurts
himself? What if he does something he can’t come back from?
I snort to myself.
Why am I worried about that? This is his job. This is what he is used to.
I sit on the bed, deciding to take a break and attempt to get my heart to
stop racing. My stomach is turning, and I’ve had the urge to throw up ever
since he went downstairs. I press a hand to my belly, knowing it’s too soon
to know if I’m pregnant, but my eyes water with panic.
What if I am and something happens to Ari? What if he gets killed and
I’m left alone with our child? I know he’d leave us with plenty of money,
but it isn’t that I’m worried about. I’m worried about being without him. I
want his comfort and I know he’ll be an amazing father.
I went and did the one thing I told myself I’d never do.
I fell in love with the man I hated.
And I kind of hate him for it.
I watch the door like a madwoman, time ticking by slowly and five
minutes feels like five hours. The sun was high in the sky when he left and
now the moon is out, the sky is black, and there are stars twinkling in the
sky. Frogs croak in the distance and it sounds like hundreds, but I bet there
are just a few.
It’s hard to believe the world is still so beautiful when something so ugly
is going on downstairs.
My eyes get heavy listening to the music of the outdoors. I try to stay
awake. I want to wait for Ari, but the clock shows one in the morning now
and I can’t wait any longer.
I doze off, falling onto the bed, and grab his pillow to hold to my chest.
I’m in and out of sleep, waking up to random sounds coming from the
movie playing when the door finally opens.
Sitting up, I rub my eyes and my voice is laced with sleep. “Ari, is that
you?”
“Go back to sleep, Tesoro.” His tone is quiet as if he doesn’t want to
yank me from the spell exhaustion has on me.
I roll over and turn on the lamp and he pauses, shutting his eyes because
he knows how I’m about to react.
He is drenched in blood. His white shirt is ruined, stained with red as if it
gushed on him. His hands look like he reached into a body to turn it inside
out. There’s a red smear across his cheek and he finally lifts his eyes from
the floor to look at me.
“What happened?” I scramble to the edge of the bed, reaching out to
touch him, then decide not to because there isn’t a clean spot I can see.
“I got the information I needed. He wouldn’t break, but eventually, he
did. Matias is cleaning up.”
Cleaning up.
“Is he dead?”
“Very,” he rumbles low with a sneer. “Rosie, it’s best if you stay away
from me right now. I’m still full of rage. I still want to hurt someone. Stay
in here while I clean up, okay?”
He doesn’t give me time to answer. He disappears into the bathroom,
keeping the door cracked. The spray of the water hisses and through the
small crack, I can see the shadows of him undressing, and like always, I
don’t listen to him.
I jump off the bed and push the door open. Ari is standing in front of the
vanity, stark naked, bloody hands gripping the edge of the counter and he is
breathing in harsh bursts. His dark hair is a mess, hanging in front of his
face, and his arms begin to tremble the harder he squeezes the vanity’s
edge. His knuckles turn white and his eyes, cold and calculating meet mine
in the mirror.
“Get. Out,” he clips.
“No,” I say to him, taking a step forward.
I reach for him, but he moves out of the way, dodging my touch.
“You do not listen!” he doesn’t raise his voice but it’s a harsh whisper,
one that holds in all the anger and violence. “If you know what’s good for
you, get out.”
“What if I don’t,” I whisper, taking another step forward. “ I hate
listening and the last thing I want to do is listen to you. I don’t want to get
out simply because you told me to.”
He growls and suddenly I’m pressed against the wall, one bloody hand
wrapped around my throat to keep me pinned.
“You are maddening,” he hisses, cocking his head to stare me down. He
spins me around and shoves me away. “Leave. Or I’m going to take from
you, Tesoro. I’ll take and take until you have nothing left to give.”
“What happened, Ari?”
He charges, grabbing me by my shirt backs me into the vanity. I can’t
breathe. His body is on mine, weighing me down, and I can smell the
metallic twinge of blood wafting from his clothes.
“I killed for you. That’s what happened.” He snags my shirt from the
collar and rips it down the middle, exposing my tits. “And I’d do it again,
but now you have to deal with the aftermath.”
His cock is hard and pressing against my thigh. There’s something
vicious swimming in his eyes. He rips his own shirt off, buttons flying and
clinking off the floor.
“No one will take you from me,” he says, tugging down my shorts and
panties at the same time. “You’re mine, Rosie. All mine.” He spins me
around and the breath is knocked out of my lungs as I’m pressed against the
wall.
The sound of a zipper lowering as anticipation drapes over my skin.
“Spread your fucking legs,” he orders, the vibrations of his voice tickling
my ear.
I do as he says, my entire body is compliant, wanting nothing more than
to obey him.
“I won’t be touching your pussy with my hands. They aren’t clean yet.”
He drags his reddened hands up my arms, circles his fingers around my
wrists, and pins them above my head.
His cock slips between my thighs, rutting against my already wet pussy
and we both groan. “I’m going to make us to do this every time I have to
kill in your name. I’m going to fuck you while my hands are damned in our
enemy’s blood. They think they can take you from me.” He rocks his hips,
his cock gliding in and out, the thick crown brushing against my clit.
He pauses when I become wetter and his teeth nibble along my neck.
“You like that, don’t you? You act like you’re a good girl, but really you’re
fucking filthy. Really, you want to be bent over and used. You want to be
filled with my come and owned, don’t you? You want me to claim you. You
love to know I’ve killed for you. Don’t. You?” He brings my head back,
flattening his tongue along my neck accompanied by a growl.
He coats his cock with my slickness until I can’t take anymore. I need
him to fuck me.
“Please.” I press my cheek against the cool tile of the wall, hoping it
cools the heat bursting under my skin.
“Not yet.” He continues his brutal pace against my pussy. “Ah, fucking
hell, you feel good just like this. So fucking wet. I love getting to feel how
slick you are for me. This is all for me, isn’t it? No one else?”
“No one else,” I repeat, my eyes rolling back in a daze.
“My wife,” he groans, hot come splashing against my lips. “Mine.” His
shaft is still hard, like always after he orgasms, and drenches himself in his
come.
“Yes.” My lips part when the head pushes against my entrance.
He drives into me until his sack is pressed against me. I’m so full, I
whine from the slight pain of his size. A shuddering breath ghosts over my
skin and his stained crimson hand flattens against my stomach, applying the
slightest amount of pressure.
My fingers tighten in his and I clench around him, tightening myself
along his girth.
“Does that feel good, Tesoro?”
“What does that mean?” I finally ask, hoping he’ll tell me.
“That’s for me to know.” He presses against my stomach harder and his
cock hits against a spot inside me that has my sight blurring for a moment.
“And for you to find out whenever the hell I want.” He slams into me,
keeping the pressure on my stomach.
“Oh god, Ari. You have to stop. I don’t know what you’re doing, but…
but…” I move against him, debating if I want to move away or not. It’s too
much and not enough. “Stop. Oh god, stop.”
He sinks his teeth into the flesh of my neck until it stings. “You don’t
sound like you want me to stop.” Ari rams into me, keeping my body
trapped between him and the wall.
The solid weight of him against my back reminds me that I have nowhere
to go, not that I’d want to be anywhere else.
It’s just all consuming. He’s all around me. Every part of him his
touching me, his chest, his abs, his thighs against mine, and his hands
clasped with mine. He is holding onto me so tight, any the blood on him is
rubbing off onto my palms. He fills me too in an aching, thrilling, kind of
way. Not just inside me, not just my body but he has taken over my mind.
He has infiltrated my soul with his thoughtful ways and charm. His
frustrations are a balm against anything I’ve ever questioned with him.
Because I know his frustrations only lie in others threatening me.
“Ari—”
“Be quiet, Tesoro. The only things I want to hear coming from your
mouth are sounds of pleasure.” He slams forward, the edge of my jaw
hitting against the wall as he unapologetically fucks me.
It’s nothing but silence as he fucks me, nothing but low growls falling
from him like a maddened beast. Whimpers, broken and high-pitched, hurt
my throat. His hand doesn’t move from my belly, the pressure becoming
worse, more intense, and my thighs begin to tremble. My body becomes
lightweight, a warm filling sensation fills my stomach, and the harder he
thrusts his anger into me, the hotter I become.
“That’s it, Tesoro. Fuck, you take my cock so well. Look at you. Look at
your pretty pussy stretched out for me.”
I’m unable to keep myself upright any longer and sag against the wall,
my shoulders digging into the unforgiving tile.
The constant moans leave me sounding like I’m drugged. I reach down to
play with my clit, to give myself that extra push so I can fall over the edge
but the moment my hand is free of his, he growls, snagging my wrist in his
hand.
“Ari, please. I burn. I need to come. Please,” I beg him, his torment on
my body has gone on long enough.
“I’ll make you come.” He slams my hand on the wall again. “But if you
move one more time, I won’t let you.”
He hammers into me, the long drag of his cock has me keening with
every stroke, finding depths I didn’t know existed.
“My come coating my cock while I fuck it into you is the best view I’ve
ever seen.” Our skin slaps together and his groan fills my ear. “Fucking
hell, you feel so good. You’re mine. Our baby will be mine. I’ll protect the
both of you, always.”
The red transferred to the wall from his hands paints the picture he’s
trying to get me to see.
The primal way he’s fucking me, he way he is lost in his revenge pushes
me over the edge. It’s the strongest orgasm I’ve ever experienced. My knees
buckle, my body gives out as a rush of heat escapes me.
He pulls free. “Oh, fuck yes. Come all over my cock. Look at the mess
you’re making.”
My eyes roll to the back of my head, feeling every wet pulse escape me
when suddenly he fills me again and groans, prolonging my orgasm just as
he reaches his own. We stand there for a minute. Our bodies shake and our
breaths are ragged and unsteady. I can’t move. I can’t think.
“I can’t wait for you to have my baby,” he whispers so low, I don’t think
he meant to say the words out loud. He kisses my shoulder and
painstakingly pulls free of me.
Our mess drips down my thigh while I stand there, immobilized.
“Let’s shower,” he says, dragging me to the stall. “Let me get in first. I
need to wash my hands. I want to finally be able to touch you.”
“You just touched me. You just touched me all over. I felt it.” I know
what he means, but he needs to know he can touch me in other ways
besides using his hands.
He smirks, stepping in and washing away the evidence of what took
place downstairs. The water turns a light shade of pink as it washes down
the drain. He scrubs himself with body wash three times, then washes his
face. Once the water runs clear, he offers his clean hand to me.
“Let me wash you, Tesoro. Let me clean you of the anger I’ve brought
home to you.”
“I’m okay,” I say, stepping into the stall, then remembering when I
watched him touch himself for the first time.
“What is it?” he asks, bending my head back to wet my hair. “You’re
blushing.”
“It’s the hot water,” I say, his damn hand pressing against my hip to hold
me steady. I don’t know if it’s my body being sensitive from the orgasm or
if it’s his touch, but every nerve ending feels raw and open to him. Every
breath, every glide of his fingertips against my skin, I have to remember
how to catch my breath.
“Don’t lie to me,” he mumbles. “You aren’t a good liar so if I were you, I
would stop trying.” He tugs on my hair to force the point.
“Fine,” I act bothered. “I was thinking about the first time you came into
the room that I thought was mine and how I watched you…”
He lifts my head, his wide palm cradling the back of it, and somehow
hunger still lingers within him. How does he never get enough of me?
“Pleasure myself?”
He knows. That damn mischievous smile gives away everything.
“You knew?” I gasp.
“I knew the moment you stepped into the bathroom. Why do you think I
put on such a show? I like the idea of you watching me.”
I turn away, a little embarrassed that he knew all this time. It’s a different
feeling when you get caught. All this time, I convinced myself it was okay
because he didn’t know.
Lo and behold, he knew the entire time.
“Don’t be embarrassed.” He turns me to face him. “The thought of you
wanting to watch me, to see me, even then when you hated me, it gave me
hope. Plus, I wanted you to see me come to your name.”
“Ari…” I don’t know what to say. I do love watching him.
“Is that something you want to do more of? Do you want to watch me
when I don’t know you’re looking? That can be arranged. Whatever my
Tesoro wants, she gets.”
“Will you please tell me what that means?”
“In time,” he teases. “When I don’t feel like I will lose you at any
moment.”
I pinch my brows together, placing my hands on his chest. “I’m not going
anywhere, Ari. I’m right here. I’m yours.”
“You’re mine and that’s what has you in danger now,” he whispers. “But
even that isn’t enough for me to let you go.”
“What are you talking about? What happened downstairs, Ari? He talked,
right?”
“Bianchi owes a black-market gem dealer named Zander. He’s
dangerous. He runs a business very similar to ours, but he exports and
imports rare and unique items. He is known for his gems though. This black
diamond has been in Bianchi’s family for many generations. He agreed to
sell it to Zander for millions. Zander bought it and is here in the city to get
it, but Bianchi can’t give it to him. So now, Zander has given Bianchi a
deadline. If he can’t meet it, Bianchi is dead, which is where the threat of
you comes in. When Bianchi first came to me, I didn’t know about you yet.
He wanted an alliance and with two territories so close together, it would
bode well for us to be civil to one another. I agreed to keep my ear to the
ground, but then you happened. You changed everything for me.”
I give him a sweet smile, cupping his cheek as he goes on.
“I didn’t care about Bianchi and never did. I didn’t have much to lose
before besides whatever manpower he was willing to give me when I
needed it, but now I have you. Protecting you from him made you a bigger
target. In our world, someone always has to pay for the crime. Your brother
can’t be found and you’re the next of kin, so it will be your head he wants.
The man you killed, he doesn’t care about that. A body is a body, and it can
be replaced but that gem can’t be. The longer you have it, the more danger
you’re in. The people who attacked us on the airstrip? It wasn’t Bianchi. It
was Zander.”
“How did they know it was me?”
“They didn’t. I think Bianchi set me up at that moment. I think Zander
was there for me. And anyone around me would have been collateral.”
“So that was his way of having the upper hand?”
“Yes,” he says with distaste.
“So what happens next? We can’t give the gem to Bianchi. He’ll
probably still try to kill me.”
“I’m going to kill him. We’re going to cash in on that gem. And you’re
going to have a life you’ve dreamed about.”
“I do,” I whisper, inching closer to him. “You’ve given me that life
already. I don’t care about money.”
“No, but this gem will secure you. The money from it can go into a trust.
You’ll be safe if you ever decide to leave if you decide to end our…
arrangement. I would take care of you, but I have a feeling you’d want to
take care of yourself.”
I look down at our wet feet, wondering how this man knows me so well
already. “I don’t plan on going anywhere, Ari.”
“Plans change,” he says, slightly detached, and I lace our fingers
together.
I don’t want anything to change. I like how things are.
He kisses my forehead. “I’ll leave you to your shower. I need to go into
the office.” He lets in a cold burst of air as he opens the stall.
I watch him go, surprised he’d just leave me like that, but if there is one
thing I don’t understand yet, it’s his moods.
They are either scolding hot or ice cold and they are hard to keep up
with.
Ari Milazzo makes me burn, but in moments like this, he leaves me
freezing, missing the warmth of his embrace.
He thinks I’m the one who is wild and unpredictable, but he’s wrong. I
have a feeling everything is about to change, and it isn’t because of me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ari
My mind is occupied by the thought of her. Day in and day out, all I see is
her. When I sleep, I dream of her, when I eat, I have to have her next to me.
Which is why I have distanced myself from her.
I haven’t allowed her to leave the house. Bianchi’s warning about having
only three days have come and gone. Two weeks have come and gone, and
I’ve become a madman because I won’t let Rosie even step foot outside. I
won’t let her get too close to the windows, which have all been replaced
with bulletproof glass.
I’ve imprisoned her and I don’t care if it means keeping her safe.
I love her.
I love her fiercely, unhealthily, and obsessively.
I barely speak to her during the day but late at night, when she’s asleep, I
slip into bed and kiss her shoulder.
I’ve been battling with myself. I’ve had to pull myself away from her to
protect her. I’ve been planning a strategic attack with Matias and Gianni.
A big part of that plan is finding Zander.
“There’s been a vehicle driving by the gate every seven minutes,” Gianni
informs me while I sit at my desk. My mind is only half here. Guilt racks
me every day I’m not with Rosie. I’m trying so hard to keep her safe but the
one person she isn’t safe from is me.
“It’s probably Bianchi trying to make good on his threat. I’m surprised he
hasn’t attacked sooner.” I toss my pen down and rub my eyes. The lack of
sleep is getting to me.
My wedding ring is cool against my skin, and I pull my hand away to
look at it. I’m doing my duty as a husband, aren’t I? I can’t let her leave the
estate. Anything could happen.
I shouldn’t have gotten so involved with her. I should have made the
contract more hands-off. Sexual contact when only necessary like when she
would be ovulating or maybe getting embryos implanted like she suggested
would have been better because now I can’t think straight.
Now I love her.
Who am I kidding? Having sex with her when needed wouldn’t have
been enough. I would have gotten addicted to her the moment I laid eyes on
her body, the moment I sank my cock into her virgin cunt, I would have
been addicted. She would have been mine just like she is now.
“I want you to follow that SUV,” I say, leaning back in my chair,
suddenly so fucking tired of this bullshit that is Bianchi. “Don’t bring them
back here. Kill them and have their bodies delivered to Amor. I want to
show Bianchi I’m done waiting. We’re going to bring the fight to him.”
“Ari, can I speak frankly with you?”
I frown, spreading my arms to signal him to speak. “You always can. You
know, you were my friend first. That hasn’t changed.”
“In this position, you rule with more hesitancy than your brother did. I
understand why you wanted an alliance with Bianchi, but he would have
never done it. I’m not saying either way is wrong or right, I’m just saying,
sometimes the attempt into making alliances is not worth it.”
“That’s how it started, but I don’t give a fuck about it now. Bianchi
knows I’d do anything for Rosie and now she’s in danger. I did all this to
protect her. She’s here because of me. I can’t help but wonder if I would
have just let her go with her family, what would have happened.”
“She would been killed, and you know it. You did the best you could at
the time, regardless if it was selfish or not. She’s here now. She’s family.
And we protect our family.” He brings his phone to his ear and relays a
voice note to the security team next, “Meet me in the garage. We have a job
to do.”
“Keep me updated on who is driving. Only take two other men with you.
I need the rest here to protect Rosie.”
“And you,” he adds. “You as well.”
I don’t care about me. I only care about Rosie’s safety.
So much for keeping things strictly business with her. I was kidding
myself. Things have never been business. The moment I saw her in the
club, I knew she belonged to me.
“Right,” I say to Gianni with a tight smile. “And you’re right about being
too soft. I won’t be doing that anymore.”
“I didn’t say you were soft. You are careful and there’s nothing wrong
with wanting to keep the peace here, but sometimes in order to have peace,
you have to fight through chaos.” Gianni spins on his heel and walks away,
leaving me alone in the office.
I drop my head in my hands, “Fuck.” Maybe Carmine made the wrong
decision. Maybe Matias would have been a better leader. He wouldn’t have
let the threat of Bianchi go on for so long.
“Are you going to talk to me?”
Rosie’s voice cuts through my pity-party and my heart pumps a little
louder when I finally hear her speak to me for the first time in days.
I don’t say anything, knowing I’m making the wrong decision, but she
has to know I’m doing what’s best for her.
“Talk to me, Ari. Talk. To. Me.” She marches into the room and slams
the door. “You are being an asshole.”
I narrow my eyes at her in warning and she scoffs, looking me up and
down.
“You don’t get to be upset with me. You don’t get to question me when I
curse at you because I have so many things I want to say.”
“Rosie—”
“—Oh! Oh, he speaks. Do you know what you’ve put me through the last
few weeks? Do you know how alone I’ve been? We have an amazing night
together. I thought we were building something and then the next morning I
wake up and it’s like you were a whole new person. You haven’t even
looked at me.”
I slam my hand on the desk and stand abruptly. The chair rolls back and
hits the bookcase. “I look at you. I look at you every chance I fucking get.
You think this is easy for me? Do you think I like having to do what I’m
doing? I’m doing this for you.”
She sneers with disgust, swiping her arm across my desk and papers go
flying. “Don’t you dare act like you’re doing this for me. Don’t you dare act
like you aren’t a selfish son-of-a-bitch. You’re doing this for you.”
“That is the second time—”
“—I don’t give a fuck, Ari. I’ll do it again and again because when this
conversation is over, you aren’t going to be able to do anything about it
depending on how this ends. You are the one pulling away from me. You
are the one who left me high and dry. You are the one keeping me locked in
here—”
Fury bursts free from me. “Because I am keeping you safe! I am keeping
you alive. Don’t forget who is out there looking for you. I am the one who
came to you to keep you safe, remember? I am the one protecting you!” I
pick up a snow globe that’s been sitting at the edge of the desk for years and
toss it. The glass shatters against the wall, the water inside it drips down in
rivulets, and Rosie doesn’t move an inch.
She’s fearless in ways that will get her killed.
Just like when she went into the club and ended up killing a man. She
had no idea what she was doing, and that kind of recklessness will get her
killed.
“You’re killing me.” She wraps her cardigan around herself tighter. “This
isolation that you have somehow forced me into is killing me. I’m on a
fucking island. The days are blending together. I don’t bother looking at the
clock anymore because time doesn’t matter. My only lifeline was my
family, and they are gone because I sacrificed myself for their happiness. I
always sacrificed for them. I was never happy and finally, I thought…” She
scoffs lightly, her arm dropping to her side after waving her hands around
while she speaks. “I thought I had found happiness with you, even if it
started out superficial. You made this decision on your own. You decided
this without talking to me to figure out what I wanted.”
“What you want doesn’t matter,” I say harshly, leaning forward and
spreading my palms across the table.
My words have her flinching as if I hit her which only breaks my heart
further. I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck when the muscles begin to
tighten and ache. “You need to understand why I’m doing this.”
“Nothing you say will make me understand why you’re acting like this
because it goes against everything you’ve said to me over the last few
weeks. You kept saying I was yours that…if I was pregnant, we’d be
yours.”
Her eyes swim with tears, filled to the brim and I reach out for her, but
she steps away from me, taking a piece of my heart with her.
“You lied,” she whispers, the words an emotional croak.
I run around the desk, slipping on a piece of paper on the floor and
catching her wrist with my fingers. She fights me. She pulls and tugs, using
her weight to set herself free.
“Let go of me,” she seethes through clenched teeth.
“Not until you hear me. Not until you listen.”
She rips herself from me, breaking our hold and she pushes against my
chest so hard, my lower back hits the desk.
It surprisingly hurt.
“Fuck you!” Her eyes shine with hurt but her tongue twists with hate.
“Tesoro, please, listen to me.”
She points a finger at me, her jaw tense. “Don’t you dare call me that.
Don’t you dare. You have no right. Not anymore. I’m not your treasure. I’m
glad I took it upon myself to look it up instead of listening to you because
you obviously don’t mean a thing you say.”
“That’s not true. I’m doing this for you, Rosie. I got close to you very
fast. It was blinding my ability to protect you how I promised. Did you
know Matias has killed three of Bianchi’s men who have tried to breach our
property? To get to you. I can’t protect if I—” I stop myself from saying it
because the words no longer matter.
I can’t protect her if I love her, but it’s too late for that isn’t it? I love her
so much; it fills the cavity of my ribcage and makes it hard to breathe.
But if I’m not careful, it’s my love that will kill her.
I had hoped giving her my protection meant something, that it would
save her, but she was damned either way, wasn’t she?
If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t be in danger. Without me, she would
have been in danger. It seems Rosie can’t ever have a life of her own.
Unless I leave her be. We will stop all forms of physical contact even if it
kills me and drives me insane slowly. We will wait and see if she’s pregnant
and if she isn’t… or maybe even if she is, I’ll void the contract.
“I don’t know what kind of woman you take me for, but if there is one
thing I’ve learned about myself, it’s that I won’t be sticking around and
waiting for people to decide what kind of life they want with me.”
“Rosie—”
She holds up her hand to stop me from speaking and her lips pinch
together as tears stream down her face. “—Don’t. I don’t need any more of
your excuses, Ari.”
“There’s a lot at stake here. It’s life and death.”
“It always is,” she says, in a long daze.
She doesn’t blink. She doesn’t move. She’s completely checked out.
“Everything I told you that night in the shower is what I’m focused on,” I
explain. “It won’t be like this forever. I’m going to make a move soon.”
“And what do you expect me to do, Ari? Do you want me to wait in the
room like a good little girl, locked away so no one can hurt me, while
you’re still in the same house but you might as well be a thousand miles
away? Do you want me to wait until you’re finally ready to let me back in?”
I’m a selfish fuck. That’s exactly what I want her to do.
“You know, if you would have talked to me about your concern, if you
would have let me in, shared your plan, I would have gladly listened to you
if it meant I got to be by your side. If it meant you didn’t leave me lonely
and held me. I can’t remember our last kiss. If I would have known—” a
sob escapes her before she turns her head away, covering her mouth with
her hand for a moment. “—It doesn’t matter. I can see whatever I thought
this was….it isn’t.”
I shake my head and walk forward, needing to hold her, to reassure her,
but she lifts her hand and I stop.
“Please, don’t. Don’t. I don’t…I can’t touch you right now.”
“Rosie.”
“Don’t.”
It’s the way she looks at me that makes me stop trying. The desperate
plea shining in her eyes, the tears constantly wetting her face, and the defeat
in them.
There’s no anger.
There’s only pain.
“You are my Tesoro, no matter what you believe,” I say to her, tucking
my hands in my pockets to stop myself from reaching out and holding her.
I really haven’t held her in weeks.
I miss her body against mine.
I miss…everything.
But I can’t think straight when I’m around her.
And I can’t think straight when I’m not.
She grabs the door jam and pauses. She spins around and throws herself
against me, holding my face in her hands as she kisses me. I swallow one of
her sobs as our lips touch for the first time in too long. We hold one another,
kissing desperately, and everything in my world rights itself.
Her tongue slides against mine and my brows furrow, focusing on putting
everything I feel into this kiss.
It’s more than hot. It’s passionate.
And then she pulls away, fleeing out of the room before I have a chance
to stop her.
My lips tingle and miss her presence immediately.
She fills the room with electricity, either from rage or pain, and I feed off
it because I’ve seen her peace. I’ve felt it.
For the first time in a long time, regret rolls through my stomach and I
grab the chair as a crutch.
Goddamn it, I’m a fucking idiot.
I don’t know how long I stand there, but I zone out, not thinking about
anything other than royally fucking up. My heart is racing, and my head is
spinning.
I’m not cut out for this. I never have been.
I take a seat, lowering my head between my legs to breathe and get my
shit together. I’m not like my older brother Carmine when it comes to
emotions. My emotions live on my damn sleeve, and everyone knows it.
Now, I’m angry at Carmine for setting me up to fail. He knew I wasn’t cut
out for this. Emotions have no place in this world we live in.
My jaw suddenly hurts, and I find myself flat on my back, staring up at a
concerned Matias. My ears ring and my cheek throbs. My vision swims for
a second and my name is being called in the distance. I finally come to and
launch my fist against Matias’s face, my knuckles meeting his chin.
“What the fuck?” I groan, getting to my feet.
“What the hell is wrong with you? I’ve been shouting your name for ten
fucking minutes.”
“Ten minutes?” I rub my cheek and look at my watch.
Holy shit.
Have I been out of it for nearly an hour? Where did the time go?
The alarms are ringing full blast and once again, time slows. No one
needs to tell me what this is about. I run out of the room, sprinting to the
master bedroom. I hear Matias’s heavy feet behind me and he’s yelling at
me, but I can’t hear him from my pulse beating loud in my ears.
I open the door and stand there, still, holding my breath as I look around
for any sign of her. The bed is a mess still from when we slept in it, but the
room is dull. The spark of her is gone.
“Where is she?” The words are quiet, calm, and I’m barely able to keep
myself under control.
“I don’t know.”
The words have me turning slowly, a cold dread settling in my bones.
The emotion I was so worried about is gone and the man Carmine trained
me to be, surges forward. In two large steps, I have my brother against the
wall, gripping him by his shirt.
“What the fuck do you mean you don’t know? Where. Is. My. Wife!” I
shout the title so close to his face, I know he can feel the warmth of my
breath.
“Ari, I don’t know. She was here and suddenly, she wasn’t. I don’t know
how she got around the security, but we’re looking at the cameras.”
“And the car that was driving back and forth by the gate? What’s the
update on that?”
“Don’t know. They vanished. We searched for them for hours.”
“And then you came back, and my wife is gone.” I let him go. “Fuck!” I
gutturally shout.
“Ari!” Gianni’s voice echoes from down the hall and I hurry down the
hall, hoping he has answers.
The alarms stop wailing and Gianni holds an envelope out to me. “This
was attached to the gate.”
I don’t open it yet. “How the fuck did someone get to the gate?” I pull the
gun from the waistband of my slacks and pull the hammer, placing the
barrel under his chin. “This shouldn’t have happened, so you need to tell me
how it did.”
“Nothing seemed amiss,” he explains steadily. “Rosie must have had the
codes to everything. It’s why nothing was questioned.”
“Then how did the alarms get tripped?” I ask.
“I sounded them when I found she was missing,” Matias explains. “I
wanted the entire compound to know.”
I press the barrel into Gianni’s chin. “I want a complete rework of the
security systems. I want an explanation as to why this was so fucking easy.
I’ve been keeping her safe all this time and for what? I want every single
man who works for me called to the conference room. Now. I want fucking
answers and I don’t care who I have to kill to get them. Do you understand
me?”
“I understand.”
“And when we find her, you’re going to be her fucking bodyguard. If I
can’t be by her side, you will be.” I drop the gun and slide the hammer in
place, throwing the safety on to be sure before tucking it back in my
waistband.
I rip open the envelope and the simple gold wedding band slides out,
clanking on the counter. The note is short and to the point.
“If you want her back, give me the gem.”
I crinkle the note and throw it.
“Fuck the plan we made. We’re going to Amor.”
And I’m shooting every man who tries to get in my way.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Rosie
I should haven’t left the safe haven I had with Ari. I knew I fucked up when
I grabbed the gem. I slipped through the garage, using one of the gate
openers from the car, typing in the code that opens the gate, and then I
typed it in again outside of the gate as I left.
But not before I buried the gem next to the fountain. I didn’t want to hold
onto it anymore, but I didn’t want to let it go. So out of sight, out of mind.
I wanted air. I needed an escape. I needed to be away from Ari, and I
knew I was risking my life, but it didn’t seem like I was truly needed
anymore. I needed time to work through my feelings.
And the only one that I kept coming back to was how much I loved him.
I didn’t want to leave. I was being proud and stubborn, thinking if he didn’t
want me, then I wouldn’t give him the option to have me.
I was walking down the road when I was grabbed.
Now I’m in a van, gagged, and my hands and feet are tied.
I’m staring down Bianchi who has a smug look on his face.
“You know,” he begins, leaning back in his seat. One arm is draped over
the back of the seat, his legs spread out to get comfortable. “This was really
easy. I’m disappointed,” he frowns. “I expected more. I knew he’d keep you
locked away like a little princess. I never expected to follow my three-day
rule. I wanted to make him sweat. I wanted him to worry. And then I
wanted him to let his guard down. Milazzo seems like a nice guy, too nice
for this business. His brother would have never allowed this to happen. To
make it in this world, you have to be more like me.” He leans forward, his
long boney fingers wrapping around my ankle. “Kindness isn’t what makes
the world go round.” He jerks me toward him, and his fingers slide up my
leg causing me to shiver in disgust. “It’s power that makes the world spin.
Ari wants peace but peace doesn’t come easy when there is another king
playing the game.” He drifts his hand up my leg and I flinch, turning away
from him.
“Look at me!” he roars, forcing me to look at him by jerking my chin
into his direction.
I try to rip myself from his grasp, but his fingers clutch onto me so tight,
I can feel them biting into my teeth under my cheeks.
His other hand comes up and his knuckles drift across my flesh. I jerk
away from his touch, bile clawing its way up my throat from the feel of his
cold fingers.
“I can see his obsession with you,” he says, marveling at me. “You are
beautiful.”
“Fuck you,” I try to yell through the gag shoved in my mouth, but it
comes out muffled.
He can still understand me though because he backhands me. The force
has the momentums carrying my body to the right and I smash the side of
my head against the van.
“I’ll do that and more if you aren’t careful,” he warns, snagging me by
the throat.
He crushes my windpipe until I’m struggling to breathe, then lets me go.
I fall down onto my back with a hard thud. I’m staring up at the ceiling and
my vision blurs from how hard I smacked my head and I close my eyes,
succumbing to the darkness.
***
A pain radiates in my cheek which jolts me awake. My skin stings and I
blink away the haze that overcomes me. I glance around, not recognizing
where I am. I’m in a basement of some sort, but it’s old and abandoned. The
floor beneath my feet is dirty and the only window allowing light in is too
small to fit out of. I try to move my arms only to find I’m bound. It’s the
same with my legs.
Each ankle is strapped to the leg of the chair and my arms are behind me,
wrists bound together.
He slaps me again and this time blood rushes into my mouth. Yanking me
back by my head, I wince as my scalp burns as my hair fights not to get
ripped from the root. His breath reeks of cigarette smoke and his eyes are
hollow. They are sunken in, reminding me of someone who doesn’t eat
enough or doesn’t go outside. He’s frail.
“I’m not here to play nice with you, bitch,” he sneers, pulling on my hair
even harder. “I know you have the gem. Your brother left a mess in his
attempt, and it might have taken me longer to find out, but I did. My men
got every image taken from the cameras in this city and we traced him from
the club to your little store. After that, it didn’t take long to find out about
you. You came into my club and killed one of my men to avenge your
brother.” He places a hand on his heart, feigning warmth. “And I find that
so admirable that you’re so protective and while I don’t know where the
little brat is, I know he wouldn’t take the gem with him. You’re too smart
for that. You didn’t want him to get caught with it.”
I’ll never admit how right he is. He figured it all out.
“I’m not sure how Ari fits into this. Maybe you owe him too and in order
to pay him back you give him a piece of your ass. I don’t know,” he shrugs,
grabbing the armrests to the chairs, leaning forward. “I can see how
tempting that is. You are stunning. Maybe I’ll keep you to myself after this.
What do you think? Maybe I’ll send your husband videos of us.” He runs
his nose down my neck and I pull as far away as I can. His tongue flicks
out, licking the sweat dribbling down my throat. “You’ll scream my name.
I’ll keep you locked away so he can never find you and when you’re
pregnant with my heir, I’ll send him videos of that too. I’ll fuck you from
the side so he can watch me take you and see how round your belly gets
with my child.”
The thought of having his baby makes me sick. My stomach turns and
my mind thinks back to all the times when I could have gotten pregnant
already.
“Sorry,” I chuckle. “You’re too late. I’m already pregnant.” I lie in hopes
he believes me, so he knows his threat is useless.
The long rub of metal sounds as he yanks a knife from its holder and
drags it against my stomach.
“Do you think I care?” He bends down to whisper in my ear, “I’ll cut it
out of you if I have to.”
I inhale a sharp breath, pulling and twisting to try to get out of the ropes
binding my wrists.
“But I won’t as long as you tell me where the gem is,” he says with a big
bright smile. He places the very tip of the knife between his teeth and
begins to clean them. “Sounds like a good deal to me.”
“Go fuck yourself,” I shout, gathering saliva and blood before leaning
my head to launch a wad of it in his face.
He turns his head, tightening his lips as the blood drips down his jaw. He
lifts two fingers and rubs them through it, then brings them in front of his
face. The sick fuck sucks them into his mouth and moans.
“You’re going to have to do a lot better than that. You forget,” he pushes
my hair back with the knife and I tremble. “I already know I’ll like the taste
of you.”
My entire body is quaking at this point with adrenaline and fear. The
room is cold too and all I can think about is Ari. If I only would have stayed
with him, none of this would have happened.
“I’ll ask you one more time. Where is the stone?”
“I don’t know. I don’t’ know what the hell you’re talking about!” I
scream, but as much as I try not to, the words end in a broken sob. “I don’t
know. I don’t know what my brother was up to, but I swear, I had nothing to
do with it.”
His knife rips through my shirt and the threat of the blade touching my
skin has me holding my breath. He rips it down the middle and the two
other men in the room step forward from the darkened corner. The knife
digs into the button of my pants and with a pop, it flings through the air. He
unzips my jeans, and he motions to come closer.
“Take her clothes off and search her body for the gem.”
“What! I don’t have it. Get your fucking hands off. Get off!” I rear my
head back and smash my forehead against the nose of one of my captors.
“Bitch!” he backhands me which causes my eyes to roll to the back of
my head.
My ears ring and it gives them the opportunity to undress me until I’m in
nothing but my bra and panties. A fresh wave of fear washes over me.
Ari is so much kinder than this man. I didn’t give him enough credit.
“Well, you are a sight for sore eyes,” Bianchi praises.
“Her pockets are clean.”
One guy rubs his hand down my chest and squeezes my breasts.
“Nothing is hidden in her bra.” His fingertips trail down my stomach until
they get to the waistband of my panties.
“I wouldn’t shove anything up my pussy to hide it, you idiot. Don’t you
fucking dare.”
“Don’t,” Bianchi orders. “She doesn’t have it on her, but it doesn’t mean
her stay here will be easy.” He comes forward, straddling my lap before
sitting down, bushing his fingers through my hair. “I do like it when your
hair is straight.”
“I don’t care what you like,” I whisper.
“You’re full of fire. I like that.” He stands. “But we will break you and I
don’t care what we have to do to make that happen. You need to know I
need that gem. If you tell me, I won’t hurt you, but if you don’t, you’re
useless. We’ll be back later.”
They leave me alone, slamming the door behind them and a shaky breath
escapes me while I freeze from not being clothed.
I’ll die before I give up that gem and it isn’t because I want it.
It’s because I know if Ari has it, he’ll make damn sure Bianchi never sees
it again, and that’s what I truly want.
Chapter Thirty
Ari
Twenty-four hours have gone by without her, and they are the hardest hours
of my life. I’ve combed every inch of this city and she’s nowhere to be
found. I have the men looking in the woods, every business, every
restaurant, interrogating anyone we come across to see if they have any
information.
Right now, I’m in Amor, pressing a gun against one of Bianchi’s men.
Gunshots ring out, my men killing everyone in who gets in their way. The
strippers run out of the club screaming and Matias pours gasoline over the
stages.
“Where is she?” I sneer, pressing the gun harder against his temple.
“I don’t know.” He falls to his knees, spit trembling down his chin as he
sobs for his life. “I don’t know. Honestly. I’m only a runner. He doesn’t tell
me things. I only push the drugs. That’s it. I swear, I swear. Please, I have a
baby on the way. Please.” He hangs his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he
waits for me to pull the trigger.
Fuck.
I wouldn’t have cared about his sob story if Rosie hadn’t come into the
picture. She might be pregnant with my child too.
I lift him by the shirt and shove him to Matias. “He is coming with us.”
“I found the bartender!” Gianni says, lifting up a man I can hardly
recognize.
He’s been beaten to a pulp and left for dead.
Every step Gianni takes, the bartender’s feet drag.
“Is he alive?”
“Barely,” he answers me. “He needs a doctor.”
I’d have left him for dead too if Rosie hadn’t asked for him. “I thought
they killed him.”
“Looks like they changed their minds,” Gianni says just as Matias strikes
a match.
He tosses it onto the stage, igniting the gasoline. Wild flames grow,
dancing sinfully and wrapping around the silver poles mimicking the limber
legs and arms of strippers.
“Let’s go. Nothing is left for us here,” I say, leaving the bodies to burn.
The cops are already outside when we stroll out of the building, luckily,
they are cops that work for me.
“Officer Strickland,” I nod, opening the door for Gianni to help our
bartender inside.
“That man needs a doctor,” he informs.
“And I’ll get him one.”
He sighs, hands on his hips as he stares at the burning building. “I’ll take
care of this.”
“I know you will. Your brother’s care is in my hands after all,” I remind
him.
His brother is set up in a VIP suite at the hospital, getting the best cancer
treatment there is from a doctor I flew in for him. Strickland and I go way
back, so we work well together.
“I haven’t forgotten,” he says, reaching for his radio. “You need to leave.
I’m calling this in. We need the fire department.”
“I’d wait,” I state, shoving the guy who begged for his life in the car.
“There are bodies that need to be taken of.”
“I can’t wait too long, Ari. You know that. And I didn’t see you
kidnapping anyone,” he tacks on in a tone that tells me he is tired of me
breaking the law.
I give him a curt nod. “I know.”
I climb into the driver’s seat and Gianni is the one who is in the
passenger, aiming the gun at our hostages. Not that the bartender could do
anything, he’s out cold, bleeding out of his nose and mouth, then the cuts all
over his body. He probably has internal bleeding too.
“Don’t even think about moving,” Gianni says.
“Where am I going to go? I’m not jumping from a moving vehicle.”
As I drive down the road, I peek in the rearview mirror. “What’s your
name? I figure I should know it since I didn’t kill you.” I press the pedal to
the floor, speeding down the road as fast as I can to get home. Maybe
someone there has news about Rosie. Every second that passes by is a
chance she could be dead.
I didn’t think she’d be at Amor, but I was desperate. The only place I
haven’t looked is the woods to see if she’s been buried, but I can’t think like
that right now. I don’t think he’d do that. I don’t think he’d kill her when he
wants the gem. I’ve checked the room high and low for that stupid fucking
stone and it isn’t there.
Perhaps she took it with her, but I would have heard something by now if
she did. Bianchi would have found it and her body would have been
delivered to me.
“What’s it matter? You’re going to kill me anyway,” he answers.
“I might not. Not if you help me find my wife,” I state.
“I really don’t know.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his
head. “I would help you if I could because I would be beside myself I
something happened to my wife.”
“Just think for me.” I slam my hand against the wheel. “Please. Think.”
He nods, his eyes moving to the gun aimed at him. “I promise I won’t try
anything. Please, get that gun out of my face.”
“Do it,” I tell Gianni, checking out my side mirror to make sure Matias is
still behind us. “He has nowhere to go unless he wants to kill himself
jumping out of the car.”
He grunts at my reply.
“Tell me your name.”
“Giorgio,” he answers just as the bartender coughs and falls to the right,
landing on him.
“Fuck. He’s going to be okay, right? He’s not a bad guy.”
“I’m debating,” I growl, wrapping my fingers around the steering wheel.
I turn into the driveway of the estate and come to slam on the breaks, the
car skidding to a stop when I notice an unfamiliar car waiting for me and
my men pointing their weapons at someone.
I jump out of the vehicle and pull my gun out, aiming at it as I walk
around the fountain. My eyes catch on a disturbed flower. Everything is
always in place. All plants are strategically planted.
Walking through the soil, I kick the flower out of the way and the hole
appears where it should be settled.
The stone. I hurry to pick it up and place it in my pocket. What a horrible
place to hide it. What was she thinking?
“Mr. Milazzo.”
The Russian accent has me lifting my gun around, coming around the
front end of the car to see Zander. He is leaning against his SUV casually,
not worried about the five guns pointed at him.
Six, including mine.
“Zander.” I lower my gun and tuck it back in my pants, wanting to show
I’m not a threat, but one word from my men, and they will fire. “What are
you doing at my home?”
“I believe you and I could work together so we both can get what we
want.” His accent makes the words he speaks sound so much harsher.
“And how could we possibly help one another.”
He grins, flicking the cigarette to the ground. He steps on it, using the
front edge of his shoe to put out the ember. “Well, you have something I
want, and I know someone who has something you want.”
I step closer. “You know where Rosie is? How? Where?”
“I just got done speaking with Bianchi. He owes me that stone, Mr.
Milazzo. I’m not leaving this fucking city without it. I’m giving Bianchi
one more day.” He lifts one finger. “But I don’t think he’ll give it to me
because he doesn’t have it, but you do, don’t you? You have had it the
entire time because of the girl. She’s pretty by the way.”
I growl, taking a step forward and he lifts his hands in surrender. “I’m
here, aren’t I? Bianchi doesn’t expect me to do business with you, but he
told me the girl had the stone, but she doesn’t have it, so I’m here.” He
spreads his arms. “And I want to make a deal.”
“Is she hurt?” I ask, not hiding the pathetic need in my tone.
“Yes,” he says honestly with a frown.
I throw my fist against the passenger window of his car, cracking the
glass as I roar. I push myself back and pin him to the SUV by his throat. His
men point their guns at me, but I don’t care. “Is she alive?” I rasp.
“She is. She is very strong and has a big attitude which doesn’t help her
cause very much, but she doesn’t back down. She’s a fighter.”
I nod, hoping she doesn’t lose that. I never want her to lose her ability to
fight. It is what will keep her alive.
“You can have your wife back soon, but I want that stone. I am not a man
who makes deals, Mr. Milazzo. Not unless someone comes to me. If I get
the gem, Rosie lives, and you can live happily ever after.”
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch. I only want the gem. You want your wife. I know where she
is. It’s simple. You betray me, I kill you and her. What do you say?” He
holds out his hand for us to solidify the deal.
“What makes you think I have it? If she doesn’t have it, her brother
might.”
He chuckles. “I am not a stupid man, Mr. Milazzo. Unlike our friend,
Bianchi. I know you got them out of the country and there’s no way you
would have let that stone out of your sight. You knew how much it was
worth.”
It wasn’t me. It was Rosie. I won’t mention that though.
“And I don’t think Rosie would allow her brother to hold onto such a
dangerous object. So tell me, do you want your wife? Or would you rather
fight me for the diamond?”
“I want my wife. No question. If you turn your back on me, I’ll kill you.”
“I have no intention of turning my back on you, Mr. Milazzo. I like you
more than him anyway. So, give me the diamond and we will go.”
“I don’t think so. I want my wife safe and then I’ll give you whatever the
hell you want. My wife is first.”
He eyes me for a moment, deciding if I’m worth trusting, then nods,
holding out his hand again. “You have yourself a deal, Mr. Milazzo.”
I shake his hand, feeling hope for the first time since Rosie went missing.
“Everyone get to the vehicles now!” I shout over my shoulder with the
order.
All the men run around me, filling Gianni and Matias’s SUVs while the
others head to the garage.
“I’m going to kill him,” I mumble, getting in the passenger seat of
Zander’s vehicle.
“Are you riding with me, Mr. Milazzo?” he asks, climbing into the
backseat.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight.” I stare at him in the rearview
mirror. “No offense.”
“None taken. I would do the same,” he says, lighting yet another
cigarette. “We win. We shall celebrate. Da?” he asks.
I nod, twisting the wedding band on my finger. The only thing I want to
celebrate is my wife in my arms again, but I can’t be that emotional when
talking to a black-market gem dealer.
“We will celebrate with the best whiskey and cigars,” I tell him.
“Make it vodka,” he corrects. “Whiskey is for pussies.”
I grin. “Vodka it is.”
The car lurches forward and a line of black SUVs follows us out of the
gate. The tires hum and the engine purrs as we speed down the street. No
one speaks but the longer the car ride goes on for, the more I wonder if I
made the wrong deal. What other choice did I have?
We drive an hour outside of the city and I begin to question where we are
going when Zander speaks.
“When we get there, you notice the property is older, but it is nice. It has
been in the Bianchi family for a hundred years. He doesn’t stay there but he
likes to go there when he is troubled. The gem was actually harvested here.
Another hasn’t been mined here since. This diamond is one of a kind.”
“There are other diamonds. I’ve seen black diamonds.”
“Not like this. Not this size and not in this area.”
“Ah, so that’s what makes it special.”
He nods. “I can make millions off that diamond. I bought it from
Bianchi. He said he was in a pinch. He must have been really desperate, but
then he didn’t deliver. I don’t like it when people don’t deliver.”
The threat is hidden in his statement. I hear it.
“Me either,” I say. “No wonder I couldn’t find her. She wasn’t even in
town. I didn’t fucking think to look out here. We did a background check on
Bianchi. This property didn’t show up as addresses listed.”
“Of course not. He made sure of that.”
I wanted to kick myself. I wanted to punish myself for not thinking
smarter. Carmine would have thought of that. How long would it have been
since I found her if Zander didn’t come find me? What if I never found her?
“Don’t kick yourself,” Zander says, lighting yet another cigarette. “You
can’t find what isn’t there. He only shares this address with those he trusts.
Not many know about this. I’m risking my reputation bringing you here if
you fuck me over.”
“I don’t give a fuck about your reputation. I want my wife and then you
can have your goddamn gem.” I’m about sick of the damn thing being in
my life.
“Excellent. Perhaps this is the start of a beautiful business relationship.
Don’t you think, Mr. Milazzo?”
“I’m not in the market for exotic gems,” I reply, my eyes set on the road
ahead. I’m waiting for the driveway to come to view. I want my fucking
wife.
“I have my hands in many cookie jars. Isn’t that what you Americans
say?” he chuckles at the ridiculous phrase. “You Americans. I don’t get it.”
“To answer your question, I am not interested in gems. After today, I’m
not sure how we could work together.”
“I can get you anything you want. Whatever you want pushed in your
city, I can be your supplier. As for gems, perhaps you’d make money selling
to your other…suppliers. Wouldn’t they love to get their hands on rare gems
that aren’t available in stores?”
He’s got a point.
“I’ll think about it,” I say, sitting forward as a driveway comes to view.
“Excellent. I look forward to us doing business together. I believe it will
beneficial.”
Luckily, I don’t have to reply because we turn left down a paved
driveway with large green rolling fields that seem to go on forever. The
house itself is old and hasn’t been maintained. It’s a shame because the old
worn beige stone is gorgeous. Dead vines creep along the outside, framing
the arch on the windows.
There are a few cars parked on the lawn. We park right outside the grand
entrance of the front door.
I wait for no one else. I don’t wait for the car to stop. I open the car door
and surge forward. My gun is out, and I aim at the wooden door with iron
hinges.
And I don’t fucking wait.
I unload the clip in the door, release it when it’s empty, and fill it with
another. I run forward, not giving a fuck if I don’t have backup, then kick
the door down. Two men are lying dead on the cracked wooden floors,
blood running from their bodies and pooling under them. Their eyes are
open and not blinking.
“I like your way of doing things, Mr. Milazzo. Fuck, talking, am I right?”
Zander asks, tossing his cigarette on the dead bodies. “I never like
negotiating and telling a story. You know? Like the people in the movies
that hold a gun to someone’s head and just talk about their reasoning or
spew their life story when they always get stopped. They wouldn’t have
been stopped if they just shot who they intended to shoot, you know? You
have to know.”
“You talk a lot too,” I say to him, not holding back as I aim my gun down
the hallway.
I begin to head down the hallway when Zander grabs my shoulder to stop
me. “She won’t be in a room.”
He points to the floor. “She’s in the basement.”
The sound of footsteps fill the circular living room and men are running
down the hallway on the right and left side.
I turn and so does Zander, our backs nearly touching, and we fire our
weapons. One of the men charging at me stops, dropping to the floor when I
put a bullet between his eyes. I’m able to shoot another too, but the last one
slams against me.
He tackles me to the floor, pushing Zander out of the way and our team
bursts through the door, taking care of the men coming from the right side
of the hall. Bullets fly and glass shatters as they hit the windows, lamps, and
vases.
The man manages to roll me onto my back and punches me in the face.
The gun is slapped from my hand, and it slides across the floor. I catch his
hand, bending his wrist until I hear an audible break.
He shouts from the pain and I’m able to push him off me, punching him
across the face next. When he is down, I stand, smashing my foot against
his broken wrist which has him crying out until his voice is shot. I bend
down and wrap my hand around his throat, wondering if he is one of the
men that has dared to breathe in my wife’s direction.
I curl my lip as I pour every ounce of my strength into crushing his
fucking windpipe. His face turns red, and his eyes are wide, the whites
bloodshot from the pressure. With his good hand, he slaps my arms, but
he’s losing the battle.
His attempts become weaker and weaker until finally, he stops breathing.
His arm hits the floor with a thud.
I wipe my forehead with my arm and look up in time to see Matias and
someone else fall through the window.
“Matias!” I yell for him, running to where he is when I see him stand,
grab a piece of glass from the ground and stabs the enemy. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he grunts, rolling his head over his shoulders. “Fucking hate
these assholes.” Bianchi’s guy starts crawling on the ground and Matias
grips him by his hair, then yanks his head back. He slices the glass shard
across the man’s throat.
Blood flows freely like a waterfall and Matias drops the body with a hard
shove, stepping on the man’s back as he walks toward me.
Zander yells, more like a triumphant battle cry, and shoves the gun in his
victim’s mouth, then pulls the trigger.
I stare at the carnage. Bodies and blood are everywhere.
“Is everyone okay?” I ask, my eyes mapping each person, my team, and
Zanders.
“Nothing a band-aid can’t fix, da?” One of Zander’s men says.
“Where is the door to the basement?” I ask Zander, feeling lost in this
damn house.
“Follow me. Watch your step. Blood everywhere,” he says as if it’s
ironic.
He runs and I follow, our steps are loud in the tunnel of the hallway. I’ve
never seen a house like this. The hall is arched, like a circle.
When we get to the end of the hall, two men the size of tanks are there
and I don’t hesitate, I kill them both before they have the opportunity to lift
their weapons.
Waiting isn’t an option.
I won’t give them the fucking pleasure.
Like Zander said, I won’t be the guy who aims a gun then talk to waste
time.
I rip the door open and trample down the steps, the darkness engulfing
me. It smells musky, wet, and the cold air feels good against my heated
skin. To the left is a storage room and on the right is another hall, I follow
it, only to see Bianchi there holding my wife in his arms.
She’s in her fucking underwear.
And Bianchi has a gun pointed at her temple.
“Her for the stone,” he offers.
Bianchi is taller than Rosie and I’m sure he expected me to talk, but I
don’t want to. I have nothing to say when he is holding everything I love
most in this world at gunpoint. I lift my weapon above her head and pull the
trigger.
Rosie screams but when his hold on her loosens, she falls to the ground,
and Bianchi staggers for a moment. One drop of blood flows down his nose
from the gunshot in the middle of his forehead. His eyes are wide, his brain
struggling to come to the realization of what just happened. He finally falls
to his knees and for the hell of it, I empty the rest of my clip into him.
I sprint to Rosie, shrugging my blazer off, and placing it over her. She’s
cold and I don’t want anyone else to see her like this.
“Tesoro,” I whisper, gathering her in my arms where she’s safe.
“You came for me.” Her voice is weak and tired.
“I will always find you. In any corner of this damned world, I’ll find you
because after this I’m putting a tracker in your arm.”
She tiredly laughs, closing her eyes for a second as she clutches onto my
arm. “You have a deal.”
I open the coat, noticing the bruising on her body and her face. They
fucking touched her. “Did they…” I swallow as fury boils up my throat.
“Did they rape you, Rosie?”
“No,” she shakes her head. “Just roughed me up. I’m not dressed because
they checked to see if I was hiding the stone.”
I stand, keeping her in my arms and held against my chest; we’re ready
to get the fuck out of here.
“How is she?” Matias asks when I climb up the steps.
“Fine. She’s safe. Let’s go.”
I bypass Zander on the way out and set her in the car. She’s already
asleep by the time I close the door.
I dig into my pocket and hold out the diamond for Zander. “I’ll go into
business with you on one condition,” I offer.
“Name it.” He stares at the stone and licks his lips, practically frothing at
the mouth for it.
“I’ll pay you for this stone if you turn it into a one-of-a-kind engagement
ring. I’m assuming you’re a jeweler since you like stones so much.”
“You’d guess right,” he says, sighing. “Deal, but I’ll need it for a few
months. I’m a busy man.”
“That’s fine. Take it and go.”
“I look forward to our future together, Mr. Milazzo.”
The only future I care about is the one I have with Mrs. Milazzo. I’m
never letting her out of my sight again.
Chapter Thirty-One
Rosie
It’s been one month since I’ve been home, and Ari has fussed about my
well-being every single day. He’s driving me crazy with his attention and I
know he means well, but he has barely touched me. He’s so concerned with
hurting me that he doesn’t realize that he is the one doing the hurting now.
I want my husband back.
What happened was terrible and my bruises have finally faded, yet he
still won’t touch me. All I want him to do is claim me, to make me his, to
hold me. He seems to see me as glass now, one touch and I’d shatter into a
million pieces that are impossible to put back together.
I’m stronger than that.
And to show him I’m better, I’m currently cutting all the laces in his
shoes.
When the last of the laces are done, I get rid of my evidence by shoving
it in my nightstand drawer along with the scissors. Just in time too because
Ari comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and
my eyes roam down his chest. He missed a few water droplets and I want
nothing more than to lick them from his skin.
I nibble my bottom lip, my eyes stopping at the large bulge under his
towel. Even flaccid, he’s impressive. It lies against his thigh, the ridge of
the crown the most noticeable. No one has any business looking so damn
good.
Before he heads to the closet, he kisses me on the cheek, and for some
reason, that hurts me more than him ignoring me. My stomach turns from
stress or anxiety from thinking that he doesn’t want me anymore. Maybe
my time with Bianchi made him want me less? I sprint to the bathroom and
shut the door, locking it so I can be alone. I barely make it to the toilet
before I’m heaving up my breakfast.
I groan, flushing it so I don’t have to look at it. I push myself to my feet
and brush my teeth, then remember that I’m late for my period.
“Tesoro, are you okay?” Ari asks from behind the door.
“I’m fine,” I mutter around my toothbrush. “Not feeling well is all.”
“I know it’s been hard. I’m here for you in any way I can be. In any way
you want me to be,” he says. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get to you sooner.”
The regret in his voice has me spitting the toothpaste out so I can speak.
“It isn’t your fault,” I reply. “Don’t blame yourself.” I open the door to talk
to him, but he isn’t there. Is that what his distance is about? He thinks it is
his fault? It’s mine. I should have never left the safety of the house.
With a long exhale, I shut the door, not knowing where to begin to fix my
relationship with Ari.
My stomach turns again, and I place my hand against it, waiting for the
nausea to pass. When it does, I bend down and open the cabinets to vanity,
rummaging through our things until I find the box I’m looking for. Ari
bought a box of pregnancy tests when I first arrived. I honestly didn’t think
I’d have to use them any time soon. I knew it took time to get pregnant and
I never planned on having the earth-shattering, mind-blowing sex I have
had with him.
I’m so glad I didn’t insist on going to the clinic or I would have missed
out on an amazing experience.
With a deep breath, I open the box, and unwrap the test.
I do my business, click the cap back on, flush, lie it flat on the counter,
then wash my hands. I know I have to wait three minutes, but why didn’t
anyone tell me they were the longest three minutes of my damn life?
I tap my fingers against the counter, thinking about how to tell Ari I’m
pregnant—if I am. I want to. I don’t want to keep it from him, but right
now, I don’t feel like I can tell him. He’s so distant right now and I’m not
sure how he’d feel knowing I’m pregnant and was pregnant during the
Bianchi fiasco. He’d blame himself more.
If I am, I’ll tell him.
Eventually.
“Moment of truth,” I say to myself, reaching for the stick that has the
answer that will change my life forever.
It’s positive.
I’m pregnant.
Tears gather in my eyes, and I don’t know why. I’m happy. I’m relieved.
I’m scared. This was the plan. I want to be happy, but now I’m nervous to
say anything to Ari. He treats me like I’m broken now. I can’t imagine how
he’ll treat me when he finds out.
I tuck the test back in the package, then slip it into the box it came in. I
flip the box over, so it doesn’t look like I opened it and set it inside the
cabinet.
I open the door and see Ari standing in front of the closet, holding up a
pair of shoes.
“Oh, really? Are we back to this, Tesoro?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at
me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I shrug, trying to keep my
composure but the words ‘I’m pregnant’ are on the tip of my tongue. I want
to tell him. I want to scream at him.
But nothing comes out.
He drops his shoes and lifts his brow. “You don’t? So all of my shoelaces
have gone missing on their own? They just upped and grew legs?”
“I guess,” I say as I head to the bedroom door.
I open it, but Ari is behind me, slamming it shut with his palm. His back
is against my front and the warmth from his body seeps into me. The air
becomes thick with tension and his other arm comes up to cage me in.
His nose brushes against my neck and he inhales, pressing a kiss to the
sensitive spot under my ear. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”
He drags his lips down my neck and I duck under his arm.
And I push him. “Are you kidding me? Are you kidding me!” I shout at
him, swinging the door open to march down the hallway.
I run down the steps and exit the front door, Gianni straightening as he
sees me leave.
“Rosie? What’s wrong? Oh.” He falls short when he notices my husband
behind me. “Don’t leave the grounds.”
“Oh, yeah. I believe I learned my lesson last time.” I start running
through the yard, the grass tickling under the pads of my feet.
“Rosie!” Ari shouts after me, but I don’t stop.
My arms pump as I run, gaining speed, trying to go as fast as I can. The
breeze flows against my face, drying the tears on my cheeks.
The woods come to view, and I start running under the canopy of the
trees. The pine needles snap under me and I jump over any fallen logs. It’s
freeing, letting out all this frustration. My body burns, my lungs hurt, but
my mind feels clear.
An arm wraps around me and we stumble. We fall, but Ari turns us so
when we fall, I land on him and his back hits the ground.
“Let me go!” I fight to get out of his grasp and we both get to our feet,
but he pushes me against the nearest tree, his hands grasping my hips.
“I’m never going to let you go. That is something that will never happen.
Do you understand me?” he growls.
“It seemed like you were. The last month you have barely looked at me,
barely touched me, barely have done anything and now you say you miss
me?” I try to push him away again, but he’s solid. His feet are planted firm
on the ground and his fingers curl into my hips to keep me pinned.
“Because I hated myself!” He raises his voice, and it bounces from the
trees. Birds fly away from the unexpected boom sounding from him and the
eaves rustle from their departure. His left hand slides up my body, cupping
my jaw. “I hate myself for what happened to you. It’s my fault. He should
have never gotten his hands on you and every time I look at you, guilt sinks
in. I failed you. I’m sorry.” His forehead rests against mine. “I’m so fucking
sorry.”
I wrap my arms around him and hold him tight. “It isn’t your fault. I’m
the one who left, but you have to understand the way you’ve been the last
month, it’s left me alone. It’s left me wondering if you wanted me at all. If
you regretted me.”
“Tesoro.” He tugs on a curl, watching it bounce. “I want to make
something very clear. I could never regret you. I regret many things in my
life. I regret not protecting you better. You? You’ve become my favorite
obsession, the one thing that occupies more of my thoughts than anything
else in this world. You are on my mind when I wake up and when I sleep,
you are my dreams. Regret is something that isn’t even in the same space as
you. It isn’t near you. You have quickly become hope after a long day of not
feeling any.”
I kiss him, not wanting him to back away or change his mind about
getting close to me. He meets my hungry kiss with his own. I groan when I
feel his mouth on mine, soft and demanding. His tongue wraps around
mine, deepening our connection. Desire builds between us, like a fuse that’s
been lit and we’re waiting to explode.
I palm the bulge in his pants, and he moans.
“I want you,” I whisper. “Please. Please, Ari.” I unzip his pants, freeing
his cock and wrap my hand around it. I stroke it and he pushes my shorts
and panties to the side, not undressing me, not waiting for us to be in the
house. He wraps my legs around his waist, and I curl my arms around his
neck to hold on.
And he guides his cock to my entrance and in one thrust, sinks in.
We groan together in unison.
“Oh, Tesoro, you feel so fucking good. I’ve missed your pussy clenching
around my cock. I’m never going that long again without you.” He rams
into me, my back sliding against the rough bark of the tree. “You’re mine.
I’m not leaving this pussy until I know you’re pregnant. All fucking day, all
night, all week, I’m going to be inside you.” He yanks my head back,
wrapping my hair around his fist and using it as support to drive into me
harder.
Now is the chance for me to tell him I’m already pregnant. The words are
on the tip of my tongue. I open my mouth to speak them, but a steady moan
follows instead.
“I have to have you bound to me in every way, Tesoro.” He places his
head against my shoulder, curling his hips with more force and I cry out.
“Ari. You feel so good. Oh god, don’t stop. You’re so deep. More.
Harder.”
He pulls out of me and spins me around, bending me over until my hands
are braced against the tree. He pushes my shorts and panties to the side
again. Since I’m so wet for him, he thrusts in easily, all the way to the hilt.
With a firm grip of my waist, he pounds into me, the sound of our skin
slapping together with every thrust echoes through the forest.
“Fuck, I’m going to come. You feel too good.” His hand disappears down
the front of my shorts and underneath my panties. Ari finds my clit,
pinching, rolling, and lightly tugging on it. My body reacts immediately.
My thighs tremble from his touch and the harder he fucks me, the wetter I
become. “Fuck yes, that’s it. Damn it, Rosie, you take my fucking cock so
well. You were made for me.” His hips stutter and he buries his face in the
back of my neck, groaning my name while he comes.
My orgasm hits me a second later and I squeeze his cock with every
spasm that racks my body. I try to pull him deeper, and his hands caress my
back, then curl around my shoulders. He lifts me to his chest, his cock still
hard and slowly rocking in and out of me.
I don’t want him to leave me yet.
He turns my head, kissing me lazily. There’s no rhythm to the kiss, it’s
tired and messy, but I love it.
“I can’t wait for you to be pregnant,” he whispers in my ear.
The words are on the tip of my tongue again, but I don’t speak them.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ari
Another month has gone by, and Rosie is keeping something from me. I
don’t know what it is, and she says she isn’t, but I know when she is lying.
She’s been emotional too. I was just able to get her back to sleep after she
cried about her favorite Harvard T-shirt ripping at the armpit. Her emotions
have been all over the place and I’m starting to think I’m the cause.
“Ari?” Gianni is standing in the doorway of my office.
“Yes?” I flicker through the pages of my next contract agreement with a
local business wanting our services. I’ll be paying them a visit tomorrow so
we can sign this is person.
“Zander is here.”
I lift my head and drop the page in my hand to stand. “He could have
called to warn us.”
“That isn’t his style.”
“Is his merchandise prepared and ready? He won’t give me what I need
without it.”
He nods. “The men are in place and loading his van now as we speak.”
“Excellent.” I stand, buttoning my blazer and walk out of the office.
Gianni opens the door for me, and I’m greeted by the harsh rays of the
sun. My eyes take a moment to adjust and when they do, I see a few men,
including Matias, pointing their weapons at Zander.
Like always, he is casually leaning against his car and smoking a
cigarette.
“My friend,” he announces, a big smile on his face. “Long time, no see.
Isn’t that another thing you Americans say? Come. Give me a hug.”
Before I can protest, the bastard has his arms wrapped around me while
mine are at my sides. He gives me a few hard pats on the back and leans
away.
“You look good. Better than before. You must be happy your lady is
back.”
“Very. Do you have the ring?” I say in a whisper so she can’t hear me if
she decided to eavesdrop.
“Da. I do.” He places the cigarette in his mouth and pats his pockets.
“One minute. I have it.”
“Lower your weapons,” I order my men. “Zander is a guest here. We
treat our guests with respect.”
Everyone obeys and I’m left waiting impatiently as Zander pats his entire
body for the damn ring.
“Zander?” I snarl with impatience.
“Da. Da. I have it. Just wait a second.” He hurries to his car and
rummages through the glove compartment. “Ah. See? I told you.” He holds
up a small black box. “I have it.”
I climb down the steps and meet him halfway.
“I believe your wife will love this ring.” He opens it and I’m blown away
by what I see.
It’s perfect and so unique. The diamond is huge and the color of the night
sky. The diamond glitters in the sunlight and surrounding the main stone are
smaller ones, set in a vintage rose gold band.
It is beautiful.
“Do you also have my product?” I tuck the ring in my pocket, reminding
him of the large order of diamonds I put in with him.
“Da. Your men have them. You’ll be very happy.”
“As you will be with yours as well.” Zander only wanted weapons which
was very easy for me to accommodate for him. I gave him anything his
heart desired and he seemed like a very happy man because of it.
Zander leaves and I watch the taillights disappear down the road.
It hits me that I have no threats, no wars, no immediate issues that need
to be resolved. Now I can focus on giving my wife the wedding she’s
always wanted.
I reach into my pocket to open the box, staring at the ring that has holds
so much significance in my relationship with Rosie.
“It is a beautiful ring, brother. She’ll be very happy,” Matias says,
clapping me on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you. I know taking over for
Carmine hasn’t been easy. It’s a big learning curve when you’re the one in
the driver’s seat, but I know you are meant to be in it.”
Emotion clogs my throat as I force myself to nod. “Thank you. I had my
doubts and still do especially with what happened to Rosie.”
“Don’t forget what happened to Carmine’s wife too, Ari. We aren’t
perfect. Sometimes we don’t think of everything. She’s safe. That’s all that
matters.”
“Is it?” I question softly. “She’s been different the last month. Not
different in a bad way, but not her usual self. Something is going on and she
won’t talk to me. I’m afraid whatever happened with Bianchi is still
haunting her.”
“Go talk to her. Go snoop. Figure it out. She loves you, that’s much I’m
sure,” Matias says.
Loves me.
It hits me that I haven’t said that to her yet. I’ve said it in different ways,
but I have said those words.
“I need to go,” I tell my brother, hurrying back in the house. “And you’re
in charge for the day.”
He gives me a mock salute and I speed-walk down the hallway, loosening
my tie. The bedroom door is already opened, and Rosie is still asleep. I
shrug out of my blazer and shut the door. I toss my jacket on the bench at
the foot of the bed and kick off my shoes, then pull out the black box before
climbing into bed with her.
She has an arm around her stomach and the other tucked under her head.
She must feel the bed jostle because her sleepy eyes open and she smiles
when she sees me.
Damn, I love it when her smile is aimed at me.
“Ari,” she lazily rasps, stretching her arms above her head. “I don’t know
why I’m so tired.” A big yawn overtakes her next.
“You deserve the rest.”
Something mirroring guilt flashes across her eyes but in the next second
it’s gone.
“I have something for you,” I say, holding the box out in front of her. “I
think this is long overdue.”
She sits up, her hair a complete mess, and the pillowcase wrinkles are
indented on her cheeks. Her eyes become big and glassy, and her hand
covers her mouth in pure shock.
“Oh my god, Ari. Is this…”
“Open it and find out,” I say, brushing my knuckles down her cheek.
She clicks open the box, gasping when she finally sees the diamond.
“Ari,” she shakes her head in disbelief, tears falling down her face. “I can’t
take this. This is too much. How did you get it? How?”
I take it out of the box and take her hand, slipping the ring onto her
finger.
Perfect fit.
“I bought it, and I asked Zander to make it into a one-of-a-kind ring. I
wanted you to have it. It holds significance. For you and your brother, for
me and you, and if felt like it needed to stay in the family.” I kiss her
knuckles, staring at the giant black diamond that overtakes her entire finger.
“Now we can plan your dream wedding. Anything you want, Tesoro. If you
want a horse and carriage, it’s yours. If you want a thousand doves flying in
the sky, if you want a ten-tier cake, it’s yours. I’ll give you whatever you
want.”
“I only want you,” she says, straddling my lap. “But I would love to plan
a wedding with you.”
My hands fall to her thighs, and I lean against the headboard, smiling up
at her. “Oh yeah?”
She nods. “I’m in a gorgeous white gown that forms my body perfectly
and you’re in a classic black tux. Your brother is your best man. And I want
us to have the wedding at Bianchi’s old estate.”
My smile fades. “No. Absolutely not. Why would you want that? You
were held hostage there.”
“And what better way to say, ‘fuck you’ than to get married to the man I
love at the house where Bianchi tried to break me?”
I flip her over until she’s on her back, my grin so big my cheeks hurt.
“You love me?”
“Ari—”
“—You love me?” I interrupt her, needing to hear her say it.
“I love you,” she says, placing her hand on my cheek. “I love you so
much.”
“I love you too.” I bring our bodies together and kiss her, wanting to get
lost in her but she shoves me away and rolls out of the bed, dashing to the
bathroom.
She doesn’t have time to close the door and she throws up, missing the
toilet.
“Rosie!” I sprint after her, pressing my palm against her forehead.
“You’re warm. Do I need to call a doctor, Tesoro?”
She shakes her head. “I’m fine. I’m sorry,” she begins to sob. “I didn’t
mean to throw up on the floor.”
“I don’t care about that. I only want you to be okay.” I get a rag, wet it
with cold water and then press it against the back of her neck. “I’ll clean up
everything. Let’s get you back to bed.”
“No, no. I need…I need to tell you something and you’re going to be so
angry at me.”
“What is it? I won’t be mad. I promise.” I rub her back, trying to soothe
her.
She peers up at me with watery eyes. “I’m pregnant.”
I stop breathing, excitement overloading my system and I don’t
remember to speak.
“I’ve known for a month,” she admits, sobbing again.
“An entire month? You’ve known? Have you gone to the doctor?”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t know how to tell you when I first found
out. You were so distant and then everything got back on track. I wanted to
surprise you. You have every right to be mad at me.”
I squat down to her level, keeping the rag on her neck. “Tesoro, I’m not
mad. I’m a little sad, bummed? Maybe that’s a better word. Because you
felt like you couldn’t tell me when you did know. That’s my fault. I’ve been
so rough with you sexually lately. I wouldn’t have been if I—”
“—Don’t you dare stop doing that. My sex drive is crazy right now.”
“Your pregnancy explains a lot. I’ve been wondering what was going on
with you.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. At first, it was because I was home
and trying to settle things with you. Then, I just---I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. We have the rest of your pregnancy together and
that’s all I care about. I’m calling the doctor. I’m getting a room set up here
as soon as possible for you to be examined. We need to make sure the baby
is okay.”
“Oh god—” she throws up again, heaving contents into the toilet.
“God, Tesoro. You’re worrying me. This can’t be normal.”
“—What if something is wrong with him or her? What if I didn’t go soon
enough?” She begins to cry so hard; she can’t breathe.
I undress, flip on the shower, then undress her. I make a note to not forget
about the mess on the floor, gather her in my arms, and step into the cool
spray. The water pulls her out of her panic, and she takes in deep breaths.
“You’re okay. The baby is okay. We’re okay,” I reassure her. “I love you
and nothing will change that.” I’m not sure how long I stand there with her
in my arms, but I place my cheek against her head and sway her back and
forth.
When she’s calm, she’s nearly asleep again and I dry her off, then place
her in bed again, pulling the blankets to her chin. With a kiss to her
forehead, I turn and clean up the bathroom. When I’m done, I dispose of all
the trash, then wash my hands, and climb into bed with her.
She’s lying flat on her back, and I scoot down, placing my head near her
stomach and my hand on top of the tiniest bump I haven’t noticed.
“Hi, sweet baby. I’m your daddy. I can’t wait for you to get here. I
already love you so much I’ll protect you and your mom with my life. I
swear.” I kiss her stomach and close my eyes, feeling more at peace than I
have in years.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Rosie
I decided Ari was right. I didn’t want to get married at Bianchi’s.
So instead, we agreed upon a beautiful hotel with a ballroom I’ve only
ever seen in movies. This hotel is for the wealthy. It’s beautiful. The ceiling
has a classical painting on it with wistful clouds and angels, then the trim is
painted in gold leaf. The floors are marble and there’s a large stain-glass
window that has a kaleidoscope of colors sparking against the floor.
I’m not going to be able to enjoy the reception until after the ceremony
though. I can’t wait to be in that ballroom again. When I first saw it, I knew
that was where I wanted to celebrate. The ceremony itself was in another
beautiful room with a view that goes on so long, you can see the entire city.
Ari’s city.
I stand in front of the mirror and frown, not because I think I look bad,
but because I don’t. It’s because I’m alone.
I expected to have my best friend at my side—my brother.
I don’t care about my parents not being here. I think them leaving is the
best thing that could have happened. Ari basically paid them to live the rest
of their lives the way they want I don’t have to worry about it. They won’t
be back.
But I had hoped by now, Ari would have sent for Caplan.
I dab a tissue under my eye and place a hand on my stomach. I’m a bit
rounder now and the dress I have still hugs me in all the right places. I have
a low-cut neckline with off the shoulder straps. It hugs my body how I
wanted it to. I don’t want to hide my growing belly and I know Ari
wouldn’t want me to. He loves my stomach. In the nursery, he makes me
stand sideways on the wall every month and he traces my belly’s shadow on
the wall so we can see how much I’ve grown.
He's the best husband and he is so excited to be a father. I can’t wait to
marry him.
Again.
A knock on the door sounds.
“I’m almost done!” I shout, but the knocking continues.
I swing the door open. “I said I’m almost— Caplan!” I scream, throwing
my arms over his neck and squeezing him as hard as I can.
He picks me up, his arms wrapping around me tight and swings me back
and forth.
“I fucking missed you so much,” he chokes, his hand moving to the back
of my head. “I’m so glad I’m here. Let me look at you.” He pulls away,
tears wetting his lashes, and he spins me. “You are a beautiful bride.” His
eyes fall to my stomach, and he looks back up at me. “You’re pregnant?”
“I am. You’re going to be an uncle.”
His hand falls to the swell and he laughs before yanking me in for
another hug.
“What are you doing here? How did you get here? When? You’re staying
with us, right? You aren’t going back? Please, tell me you aren’t going
back. I can’t handle that.”
He pushes us inside the room and shuts the door. “No. I’m not going
back. Mom and Dad can…” he stops himself. “Let’s just say I couldn’t wait
to get out of there. I’m here to stay. Ari offered a room at your house and a
place within the mafia. I’m going to take it, Rosie.”
“I’m just happy you’re home.” I hug him again, doing my best not to cry
so I don’t ruin my makeup. “You’re going to walk me down the aisle,
right?”
“Like I’d allow anyone else to,” he says, looking down at his watch. “I
have to go talk with the groomsmen. Last-minute details and all, but I had
to come see you. Meet me where the aisle starts, okay? I’ll be the one ready
to walk you down it. You look beautiful, Rosie.”
When he leaves, I don’t feel so defeated. I’m happy.
I touch up my makeup and check the time, noticing I need to be ready in
fifteen minutes.
A knock sounds at the door again and I sigh. “Caplan, you just can’t
stand to be away now that you’re home—” I open the door to see Ari.
I try to close it, but his foot comes out to stop it from shutting. He pushes
it open and slams it, locking it so we aren’t interrupted.
“Ari, you can’t be in here.”
“Oh, there is no way in hell I’m allowing you to walk down that aisle
without me dripping from your cunt.”
“What? No, Ari. We don’t…We can’t—” my protest is falls short when
he pushes me against the wall, hikes up my dress and frees his cock.
He rams into me. “Fuck, you’re always ready for me. You look so
beautiful. God, I had to see you and I’m so glad I did. I’m going to fuck you
in this dress after the ceremony too, during reception, in the fucking plane
on our honeymoon. I’m going to live inside you.” He fucks me hard and
fast.
“Ari! Yes, oh, more. I want it. I want it,” I meet him thrust for thrust,
baring down on him every time he fuck me.
“What is it? What do you want?”
“Your come. Please, I want to feel it.”
He leans in to kiss me but stops, growling when he notices my lipstick.
“You have no idea how much I want to mess up this mouth. Later.
Definitely later.”
“That’s it. Takes your husband’s cock, Tesoro.”
His words send me over the edge, and I cry out his name, coming hard
and fast.
“Damn it. You. Feel. So. Good.” He punches his hips in punctuation with
his words, groaning when his orgasm leaves him. He long cock pulls free of
me, and he rights my undergarments before tucking himself away, his shaft
still hard and prominent in his slacks.
He grips my chin and presses a kiss to it.
“Don’t you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?”
He chuckles. ‘Don’t you ever shut up? You always have something to
say. I’ll be fixing that later too,” he says lightly and playful, giving me a
quick kiss on the lips without messing it up. “I know I shouldn’t have seen
you, but I had to. I had to have you before you walked down that aisle, so
you felt me with every step you took.”
I blush, his words downright delicious and dirty. “I already feel your
come in my panties,” I admit.
He growls, shoving me against the wall again. One hand rests
protectively against my stomach while the other cups the side of my neck.
“Good. It will be easier to slide into you after the ceremony.” With those
words, he leaves, but not before shooting me a wink and giving me one last
look over before groaning and slamming the door.
I giggle, then hurry to the mirror to make sure I don’t look well-fucked.
I blow a piece of hair out of my face when I see I do, in fact, look like
my husband just fucked me.
I touch up my hair, do more of my makeup, and straighten out my gown
before opening the door to find Caplan leaning on the wall across the hall.
He is holding a bouquet of classic red roses. He walks forward and hands
them to me.
“I’m your maid of honor too,” he declares. “Or is it man of honor?”
I laugh, looping my arm through his. “Thank you for being here. You’ve
made this day perfect.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it but thank your husband. He’s the one that
made sure I got here. Matias is the one that flew out to get me so I wouldn’t
travel alone. You found a good man, Rosie. I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you.” I blink away tears, knowing I can’t cry.
“Let’s get you married. Again. Yeah, Ari already told me everything.
About how you saved me by marrying him. You made a deal. I haven’t
gotten to thank you yet, so thank you. I love you very much. ”
My eyes water from his appreciation. “I love you too and I’d do it all
over again if I had to, Cap.”
“I hope you never do.” He kisses my cheek.
I smile, walking down the corridor until we get to the closed doors that
hide all the guests and the groom. The doors open and I’m able to see a
stunning groom wearing his tux that he just fucked me in. The walls are
bright white with a large chandelier hanging in the middle of the ceiling.
Flowers are everywhere, so much so, I can smell them as if I’m walking
through a garden.
When I get to Ari and he takes my hand, this moment feels more real and
more solidifying than the piece of paper I signed for the contract. Our
feelings for one another weave through where we touch and he grips me
harder, letting me know he can feel it.
I can’t hear anything the minister is saying. I’m too lost looking at Ari
and how handsome he looks. His eyes only ever leave mine to drop to my
stomach and back up again.
He’s obsessed.
“Do you take—”
“—I do,” he says in a hurry, cutting off the minister.
I laugh as he slides on my ring.
“And do you—”
“I do! I do. I do so much.” I slide on his ring and before the minister can
say another word, we kiss. He bends me, kissing me deeply and putting on a
show for everyone in the room.
Everyone claps and cheers.
“When we walk down the aisle, I’m taking you to the bathroom to fuck
you,” he whispers against my lips so no one can hear.
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” I reply.
“Forever my Tesoro,” he says, kissing me again.
My fate is sealed.
I’m forever Ari Milazzo’s wife.
And if I had to go back, I’d sign that contract all over again if it meant it
led me to here.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ari
Five months into Rosie’s pregnancy
“How are you feeling today, Tesoro?” I kiss her on the top of her head
then slide my hand across her stomach while she leans over the counter and
fills out a college application online. I’m very proud of her for deciding to
go to school. I was hesitant because of her pregnancy. I didn’t want her to
feel overwhelmed. Not because I didn’t think she could do school and be
pregnant but because I only wanted her to feel rested and taken care of. I
don’t want her to stress. I want to pamper her.
One of her dreams has always been to go to school and get her degree. I
never want to stop her from doing anything she wants. If she wants the
world, I’ll find a way to give it to her.
“Good. I’m almost done. I’m nervous. What if I don’t get in? I really
want my degree in business. I want to reopen the shop and turn it into
something else. Something I’ll enjoy. I don’t know what yet, but I really
want to make it happen.”
I spin her around and place my hand against her neck. “And you will.
You’re brilliant. You work hard and you’re driven. If that’s what you want
to do, you’ll do it, and I’ll do anything to make that happen.”
She gives me a smile, wrapping her arms around my neck. “You always
believe in me.”
I tug on her curls. “What’s not to believe in? You are a force of nature
and I have no doubt you’ll do everything you want.”
Rosie steps on her tiptoes and kisses me. It’s sweet. A gentle long peck
that reminds me of the love I finally get to have every day.
A grunt of pain coming from the backyard ruins the moment and Rosie
breaks away from me, walking over to the sliding doors that lead outside. I
stand behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, then gently lift her
stomach to bring her relief.
She groans, placing her head on my shoulder while I lift the weight.
“That feels so good,” she slurs with relief.
I kiss the side of her neck, hiding my grin. “I know.” I like to do this a
few times a day for her, rub her back, and her feet. I massage her neck. I
touch her everywhere. I want her to know how much I appreciate her and
what her body is going through to grow my child.
Another grunt sounds.
Caplan is currently getting his ass kicked by Matias.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Rosie asks, a slight edge of concern to her
tone.
“He’ll be fine. Matias won’t hurt him.”
“That’s not what I mean. Do you think he’ll be okay here? Working for
you?”
I wince when Matias swipes his leg and sweeps Caplan from his feet. He
lands on his back and groans. Matias chuckles and helps Caplan back up by
extending his hand. While he is getting his ass kicked, I have no doubt
about Caplan’s ability to do well here.
“He doesn’t seem like much now, I know,” I snicker when he doesn’t
dodge a punch from Matias. “But self-defense is needed here. He needs to
learn how to do this and how to take pain.” I won’t remind her of the torture
sessions that come later. We have to desensitize him to pain because there
will be a time where someone gets the best of him and he needs to learn and
be able to take it. “But I have no doubts he will do well. He’s smart and he
is a natural in this life. He’s proven himself already, but I need him to be
able to protect himself better.” I cringe when Matias yanks Caplan’s arm
back.
“Uncle! Fucking uncle! Good god,” Caplan shouts.
Rosie laughs next and Matias lets him go. My twin must say something
along the lines of them being done for the day because Caplan falls
dramatically on the ground. His arms and legs are spread out as he stares up
to the sky.
“He’ll be just fine. He wants a more active role,” I begin to tell her. “He
wants me to take him when I meet with my….” I choose my word carefully.
“Customers. I told him he should learn security from Gianni and Matias,
but he wants in on the action. I’m not sure yet. If he doesn’t improve his
self-defense, he will be our tech guy, which isn’t a bad thing. That’s an
important job.”
She sighs in disappointment. “Caplan never quits. He’ll work hard to
make sure he gets what he wants. Might as well get used to him as your
shadow.”
I slowly and gently lower her belly back down and turn her into my arms.
“When you have you degree, would you be interested in taking a position
with me? Here.”
“I don’t want to put our baby’s entire family at risk. I won’t go to action,
but negotiations? Hell yes, count me in. I love the drama.”
I toss my head back and bellow laughter, holding her tight against me. “I
love you,” I say.
“I love you too. Oh!” she snags my hand and puts her on her stomach.
“What? Are you okay?” I worry.
“Just wait—there!”
A kick hits my palm and I gasp as if I’m feeling it for the first time. I
always get surprised, and it does feel like the first time every time I feel my
child kick. I place my other hand on her rounded stomach and wait,
squatting down to be eye level.
Another kick.
And another.
That one makes Rosie grunt.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I need to pee though. He kicked my bladder.” She rushes away
from me, leaving me smiling at her retreating form.
The sliding door opens to reveal a sweaty Matias. He downs a bottle of
water, gasping to catch his breath.
“Where is Cap?” I ask him.
“Out there,” he points a finger over his shoulder.
I look out of the window to see Caplan lying down still. “Is he showing
progress?”
“Definitely. I go hard on him, but he is learning. He’ll be good in a few
months.”
“Great. Good to know. Thank you.”
“A game of Battleship later?”
I lift a brow at him. “If you’re in the mood to lose.”
He walks away to head to his room and he laughs. “Please, I’ll wager.
Five hundred bucks.”
“Deal!” I shout after him just as I hear the little patter of my wife’s feet.
“Are you gambling over Battleship again?”
“No,” I grumble, tracing a circle with my finger on the counter. “Yes.”
“You’ve lost two times in a row.”
“Way to remind me. Third time is the charm.”
“Maybe I’ll play too.”
“And what are you betting?” I lower my tone, drifting my hand to her ass
which has gotten plumper since her pregnancy. I love it.
“All day. All orgasms for me. Not you.”
“You’re evil.” I narrow my eyes at her.
“You love it.”
“I do. I must love torture.”
She pinches me lightly and then checks the time. “Are you ready for our
appointment?”
I nod eagerly. Every time we have gone to the doctor to learn if our baby
is a boy or girl, the stubborn child is never in position.
He or she gets their defiance from their mother.
I’ve hired a doctor and he likes to stay downstairs, away from the main
levels of the house.
“And after we will go get your strawberry milkshake.”
She squeals happily. “Oh, I can’t wait. I want an extra-large one.”
“I know. You love things extra large.”
She tosses a smirk over her shoulder while we walk to the steps. “I really
do, don’t I?”
I growl low in my throat, warning her to not say another word. “Don’t
use that tone with me unless you’re wanting to be late for our appointment.”
She stops before going down the stairs and takes my hand. “I love that
you say ‘our.’ It doesn’t make me feel alone in this. You’re really there.
Every step of the way. You’re the most supportive husband.”
“I want to be as in this as possible. I wish I could take some of your
discomfort, your pain, anything, everything if it means you feel peace.” I
kiss her forehead and keep her close to my side as we walk down the steps.
“Let’s make sure our baby is okay.”
When we are in the basement, I knock on his office door and Dominic
Cellini opens the door. He’s an older man with silver hair but he doesn’t
look a day over forty. He has to be in his fifties. “Mr. Milazzo. Are we
ready to see if the little one will play by the rules?”
Rosie rushes by him, plops on the table, leans back, and lifts her shirt.
“Come on, come on. I want a milkshake.”
I smile and shake my head, standing by her side and taking her hand.
“I love your enthusiasm. Let’s make this short, then.” He squirts jelly on
her stomach and grabs the wand to the ultrasound, swirling it over her belly.
The swoosh of our baby’s heartbeat sounds and I squeeze Rosie’s hand
when I hear it.
It’s the best sound.
“Well, congratulations.” He points to the screen. “He isn’t shy today.”
“He?” Rosie and I ask in unison.
“We’re having a boy?” I question.
“Yes, and he looks very healthy. I’ll print these pictures for you.”
I kiss Rosie long and hard, wishing we were alone so I could claim her
body for the second time today. If she wants orgasms today, then that’s what
I’ll give her. I don’t care about me. I’ll give her anything. Everything.
“Can we get my milkshake now? Maybe buy some clothes for him,” she
whispers with watery eyes.
“Whatever you want.”
And I meant it. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure she has
everything she’s always desired.
Epilogue
Rosie
One year later
Yesterday, I might have cut all of his ties in half for the hell of it.
Now, all of my bras have the middle cut out for my nipples.
I can’t help but laugh. I love the little pranks we have had over the last
year we have been together. And even after the birth of our son, we still
manage to keep the tradition going.
Aristide Milazzo Junior. He has become the center of our entire world. I
love him more than anything.
I finally have the go-ahead from my doctor to have sex and I know just
how to rope Ari in for that.
I put on a simple piece of sheer black lingerie, then put on my silky robe
over it, tying the middle so no one can see what’s underneath. Running over
to the crib, I double check to make sure Ari Junior is asleep. I grab his
monitor and hurry down the hall and slow my steps when I notice how
eager I look.
When I get to his office, he isn’t there because he is meeting with Zander
outside still which is perfect because that gives me time to set up.
I look left and right to make sure no one can see me, easing my way in
the office and quietly closing the doors behind me. Running around his
desk, I search for the contract he made between us, finding it in his bottom
left drawer.
I’m taken back to that day as I hold it in my hand. So much has happened
since then. It seems like another lifetime ago. I remember how I felt. I was
so damn pissed at him. The hate I felt so consuming.
And I read through to see where it says one year, grab a pen, and cross it
out. Instead, I write “forever or nothing at all.” Then flip to the last page to
make a new line for our signatures. Feeling giddy, I rush around the desk
and sit on the edge, spreading my legs so he can see my crotchless
underwear, hoping it reminds him of that time in his office when he
wouldn’t touch me, but made me fuck myself instead.
My entire body heats from the memory and my hormones rage with
want. It’s been so hard lying next to him every night without doing
anything, but he has been very respectful and patient. He’s been better than
me. It’s been driving me crazy.
I set the baby monitor on the other corner of the desk and flip the video
on too. I have to be able to have my eyes on our son at all times, but he’s
still sleeping, and I hope he stays that way for a half hour.
I know that since I’m cleared to have sex, Ari is going to want to get me
pregnant again and I’m going to let him.
I hear his voice on the other side of the door, talking with Caplan and
Matias. Everyone has been kind in showing my brother the ropes.
“I’m going to go check on my wife and son,” he says to them, opening
the door only to find me sitting on his desk with my legs spread and the
contract between my thighs to block my pussy from his sight. “Don’t
interrupt me,” he tosses over his shoulder, easing the door shut. “What do I
owe the pleasure to?” He loosens his tie and I tug on the belt of my robe,
letting it part to show him what I have on.
“The doctor gave me the okay,” I tell him.
He growls, charging at me and gives me no time to say anything else
before his mouth is on mine and his hands are gripping my ass. He tugs me
forward so I can feel his erection.
“Fuck, finally.” He leans away, looking me up and down, his fingers
slipping through my lips to find my clit. “Why does my Tesoro have the
contract?”
“Before…before,” I moan as he applies pressure. “You have to sign the
new contract I made. Forever or nothing at all, Mr. Milazzo. Have your
pick.”
He snags the contract from me, grabs a pen, and signs his name without
looking at it. “Are you insane? As if you have a choice. You are mine.” He
unbuckles his pants, lowers his zipper, and his leaking cock springs me. He
hooks my leg over his hip. “You are all mine.” He thrusts forward, his cock
easing into me because I’m soaked for him.
We moan loudly, finally feeling one another for the first time in months.
“Fuck,” he groans, his body spasming as he comes, filling me quickly.
I love how sensitive he is for me, but I also love how he can keep going.
It’s the one thing I can always count on.
“I’m going to fill you up so much, by the end of the night, you’ll be
pregnant again.”
“You seem pretty sure of yourself,” I tease him, my mouth dropping as
he curls his hips.
“When it comes to you? I’m always sure of myself.” He wraps one arm
around me, keeping me close while his drives himself as deep as he can.
“Ah, yes, ah, ah, yes, Ari. Oh god, I’m close. I’m already close. You feel
so good. Don’t stop,” I tell him, clutching onto his shoulders while he fucks
me.
“God yes.”
We look down, watching his cock disappear inside me, his come dripping
onto the desk.
“Forever, Rosie. Contract or not. You’re mine forever.”
“Always, Ari.”
“Tesoro,” he whispers into my ear. “My Treasure. My life. My home.”
THE END
Click here to subscribe to my newsletter & get
EXCLUSIVE updates on all offers, secret
previews, and new releases!