Chapter 25 – Leonora
One Year Later
“You know what we can control. But what if I told you we could offer something more? Something that the corporate world would benefit from, something that could take your business to new heights?”
I clicked a button, and the screen behind me flickered to life, revealing a sleek, detailed proposal. The corporate elite in front of me shifted in their seats. They had no idea how deep this went.
“Paragon Syndicate Inc. is one of the most powerful players in the business world. But even the most secure empire can fall without the right protection and alliances,” I continued, pacing slightly, my eyes narrowing on each individual in the room. “In our line of work, we’ve learned the importance of protecting what matters. And trust me when I say, your assets, your brand, can never be truly secure without the right people watching over it.”
A murmur rippled through the room.
“Security, control, and influence are what we offer—not just in the form of muscle but in strategy, information, and leverage. With us, you gain access to networks you wouldn’t even know existed. And we have the resources to make sure your competitors never get too close.”
One of the board members, a man with thinning gray hair, leaned forward with evident skepticism.
“And why would we trust the Italians?”
I smirked. “Because you don’t have a choice. The question isn’t whether you trust me. It’s whether you’re willing to let someone else in the game who can offer you what you can’t even fathom. We can secure your future while you sit back and collect the profits.”
I clicked the remote again, and the next slide flashed—data, projections, and a roadmap of how we could integrate seamlessly into their operations. A detailed analysis of how our assets, from legitimate businesses to underground networks, could bolster their operations.
And their resistance started to crack.
“The corporate world and the underworld aren’t so different. You and me, we’re the same,” I said. “Both thrive on power and the ability to manipulate situations to your advantage. The only difference is we’re not bound by the same rules. Imagine what you could achieve with that kind of freedom.”
Another board member, a younger woman with sharp eyes, raised an eyebrow. “And what do you want in return?”
“Simple.” I shrugged. “A seat at the table. The mafia doesn’t operate in the shadows forever. We’ve built empires without your kind of legitimacy, but what if we combined the two? The protection, the reach, the influence. You get to expand your corporate empire—and we get control over markets and power that could change everything.”
There was a shift in the room. The walls were coming down, bit by bit. They didn’t know it yet, but they were already mine.
“You don’t have to agree today,” I added smoothly, stepping closer to the table. “But remember this: Every day you wait, someone else out there will be making the same offer to your competitors. And trust me, if they beat you to it, you’ll regret not taking this chance.”
I let my words hang in the air, and my gaze drifted to the most prominent man in the room: my husband. Dark desire lingered in his gaze, and a satisfied smile sat on his lips. I nibbled down on my lips because I knew he liked it before I faced my clients again.
And just like that, the deal was already done.
****
One year.
One year since I had given birth. One year since everything had changed.
But nothing really changed. I was back to work, pumping harder than before. The Colombo family still ran like a well-oiled machine, and the alliances I had forged remained intact. I was feared before, but now, the people respected me.
The weight of motherhood hadn’t crumbled me; instead, it had hardened me in ways I didn’t even realize were possible.
My body was still adjusting—subtle shifts that no one else could see, but I felt them every day. My hips had widened slightly, a curve I hadn’t known I’d need but now embraced, and my chest was fuller than before. The tautness of my skin, once as smooth as silk, now held traces of motherhood in the soft stretch marks that no longer felt like imperfections but the marks of strength, of survival. I was different, but I was still me. Just stronger, sharper.
The moment we stepped out of the building, the air felt cooler against my skin. And with every step I took, the burden of the day’s events seemed to lift.
Rafa’s presence beside me grounded me, and the tension I didn’t even realize I was holding in my shoulders started to ease.
We got into the car, and I relaxed in it, the familiar scent of leather and him filling the small space.
I didn’t wait a second before leaning my head onto his broad shoulder.
I exhaled softly, letting the exhaustion of the day settle into my bones. “It’s been a long day.”
His hand found mine, and he intertwined our fingers. I felt the heat radiating from him and leaned in closer, brushing my lips against his neck. It was meant to be a casual gesture, but it had my pulse quickening.
“You know,” he murmured into my hair and kissed my cheek, “you’re even more captivating when you’re in control.”
I lifted my head just enough to meet his eyes. The intensity of his gaze made me shiver. “Is that so?” My lips curved into a playful smile. “Maybe I just needed the right incentive to let someone else take the lead.”
He chuckled, and the sound traveled straight between my legs. “Oh, I can think of a few ways to make you let go.”
He’d said it confidently, and I bit my lip, anticipation rising like a slow burn between us. The car moved through the city, and somehow, I missed being behind the wheel, but in that moment, I was entirely focused on him.
“I love you, Rafa.”
He kissed my forehead and relaxed on the seat with his eyes shut. “I know you do.”
****
We stepped out of the car as we arrived at Timur’s house, and I smiled at the imposing structure before us. Serena invited us for lunch today. Rafayel didn’t say it often, but we both knew how appreciative he was that Timur and his family shuttled between states just to spend time with us. And it was surely a blessing because Serena had fallen madly in love with Nadya.
Normally, I stayed home with our daughter, who was a rare moment of peace in the madness of our lives. Marco was more than capable of handling the operations while I focused on what mattered most—our baby girl. But tonight, it was different. I had to be with Rafayel at the meeting with Paragon, and I knew Serena would be happy to take over for a while, giving me the time I needed.
I didn’t like leaving Nadya in someone else’s hands, but Serena had always been good with her. She’d always been a mother in her own right. She was Timur’s wife, but I felt a bond with her that went beyond just family.
Hand in hand, we walked through the front door, instantly smiling at the faint sound of laughter echoing from the living room. Serena was there, sitting on the floor, Nadya nestled in her arms. Her smile melted away the tightness in my chest.
Serena lit up as she looked at me. “She’s been asking for you.”
Nadya reached out for me with chubby hands, her small fingers curling around mine as if she’d been waiting for this moment. I pulled her close, breathing in the scent of her hair, and kissed her forehead.
“Thank you.” I hoped she saw the depths of my gratitude because I doubted that I could repay her back for her kindness.
“Don’t mention it. She’s a joy. Come on, let’s go eat. I’m almost starving, and your brother throws quite the tantrum when he’s hungry.” She directed that at Rafayel.
We thought Timur was away on a trip and hadn’t expected to see him here. But then again, he was always around when his wife hosted something. I admired the kind of love they had but didn’t envy it. Rafa’s version was enough for me.
However, what I didn’t anticipate was the presence of Rafayel’s cousins—a whole damn lot of them.
But more specifically, the one with gray eyes: Ivan.
He stood by the window with his hands buried in the pocket of his pants. A soberness lingered in his gaze. I barely recognized him. The last time our paths crossed, he’d knocked me out, kidnapped me, and…you know how the rest of the story goes.
Now, he looked older, just like Matteo. A bit more refined.
As I made my way further inside, I felt his eyes on me, and a prickling heat rose up the back of my neck. Then, like fate had decided we couldn’t avoid each other any longer, he approached me. Rafayel quietly excused himself, taking Nayda in his arms. And I narrowed my eyes at Ivan, but he didn’t return the glare.
His expression was guarded when he talked. “Leo.”
“Came to knock me out again?” I gave him a raised brow.
He flinched. “On the contrary, no.” He blew out a deep breath. “I want to apologize. What I did…. It was childish and stupid. I was immature.”
I almost didn’t know how to respond, and I wondered if I was imagining it.
Ivan—apologizing?
This version of him was new, unfamiliar. He wasn’t the reckless, cocky man I’d crossed paths with before. His sudden change was impossible not to notice. His tailored suit, the careful control of his words, the way he seemed more at ease with himself…. It was like I was meeting a completely different person.
“There’s something different about you. I’m not buying it. Could be a ploy. Who knows?”
Ivan smiled, and it looked genuine. “I work at Charleston’s.”
That, strangely, tore a laugh out of me, loud enough to catch my husband’s concerned stare. I looked back at Ivan. Whether I liked it or not, this dipshit was family now. The only reason I wouldn’t trust him was if he gave me a solid reason not to. I was letting go, burying the hatchet.
“Well, that’s…shocking. But congratulations are in order.”
“You’re late,” he whispered and then chuckled. “I started a year ago.”
“Still. Congratulations, Ivan. And we’re cool. I guess what happened between us is one of those things about life, isn’t it? And ironically, I owe my happiness to you. As crazy as it sounds, you brought me back to Rafa. So, thank you, I guess.”
His eyes lingered on me for a moment, and I saw something flicker there. Relief, maybe? Whatever it was, I liked it. This new version of him was…intriguing. Gone was the guy who never thought before he acted, replaced by someone who understood his own faults. And somehow, it made him far more dangerous, in a way.
A slight smile tugged at his lips. “I’m glad,” he said and then walked away.
And I moved over to the table to join the rest of them for lunch.
I was laughing, caught up in the conversation at the table. The chatter was easy, the kind that flowed effortlessly when you were surrounded by people who made you feel at home. I was smiling. But then, like a bolt of electricity, there was a sudden charge in the air that had nothing to do with anything but the weight of a gaze. It sizzled at the side of my face, burning intensely.
Rafayel.
Across the table, I felt his eyes on me, heavy, intense, burning through the layers of conversation, locking on me as though I were the only person in the room.
I looked up instinctively, and sure enough, there he was, his dark eyes locked onto mine.
My heart skipped. I tried to focus on the conversation again, but it was impossible, and I shifted in my seat, trying to adjust to the heat crawling up my neck, attempting to break free from the intensity of his stare. But it felt like I was trapped, and the worst part? I didn’t want to escape.
I wanted to look away, to keep my composure, to pretend nothing was happening, but I couldn’t. Not when his eyes were searing into mine with such force. I swallowed, my breath suddenly shallow.
But if he wanted to play that game, two could certainly play. A slow smile tugged at my lips.
Tonight, I was going to be a little naughty.
I slid my foot beneath the table, brushing it lightly against his leg, just enough to make him flinch. My heart pounded, and my breath quickened, but I kept my gaze fixed on him, pretending to focus on the conversation, as I felt the heat rise in his body and mine.
The subtle shift in his posture didn’t go unnoticed by me. He was starting to squirm just a little, and it was delicious.
A rush of power surged through me as I stroked his leg again, this time just a touch higher, making him stiffen. The way his jaw tightened, the barely contained intake of breath, it was intoxicating. I couldn’t help myself. I giggled softly. The way I could make him unravel with just a simple touch…. The control was too much to resist.
Then, he leaned in, his body heat wrapping around me like a vice, and whispered something dark and delicious in hot Russian, only for my ears.
****
“Don’t make noise. She’s asleep.”
“You should take your own advice, sweetheart.”
Like an animal, Rafayel ripped the thong from my waist, cupped me where I’d ached for him all day, and pressed my back against the door until I was breathing his scent and nothing else. His breath came fast and shallow, his eyes fixed on me with a hunger that matched my own.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered, and I obeyed.
He slipped one finger in, grunted against my neck, and pumped in another one. My back flew off the door, and I dug my fingernails into his hard biceps to keep my legs steady. He moved against me, thrusting his finger inside me with a rough speed that I wholly welcomed.
“Punishment for teasing me tonight,” he growled against my ear and nipped at my earlobe.
The words in my brain had turned into an incoherent mush, but I was still able to say, “You started it, staring at me like I was dinner.”
A low chuckle rumbled from his throat and his mouth latched on my nape while his finger worked its magic inside me. While he thrust like a maniac, he grazed my skin with teeth and marked me with an insane number of love bites.
“Who owns this pussy, Leo?”
He slapped my pussy, the sound of my juices echoing against his palm, and before I could scream, he covered my mouth with his, swallowing down my groan. If Nadya batted a lash, our night was over.
“Who, baby?”
I whimpered, feeling my pulse throb with insane need. “You, Rafa.”
With his free hand, he cupped one of my breasts and tugged on my tits. “And these perfect tits? Who owns them?”
“You.”
He slid his fingers into my hair, yanked my head back, and kissed me like a man dying of thirst who’d seen a clean spring. I struggled to keep up with him but didn’t pull away. I kept him locked in, pinned against me, because that was the only place I needed him—with me.
Inside me.
I shattered against him, crying deliriously into his mouth, while I came over his hand. But he wasn’t done.
He withdrew his fingers, lifted them to his lips, and sucked me off with half-hooded lids, making noises of satisfaction as he licked his fingers.
Dio mio.
My skin burned from how hot that made me, and I reached for his bulging cock in his pants before he could stop me. Rafayel liked hearing me beg. And damn my pride; I’d do it a million times if it made him feel good enough to give me what I wanted.
“I need you inside me now, Rafa. Please.”
Without a word—because there were no more words to say, really—he pulled me close, my body pressed to him as he sank inside me with a roughness I hadn’t felt in a while.
I felt that deep, raw need between us, a fire that had been building for far too long. The past months, with the pregnancy, had dulled the edge, but tonight? Tonight, it was like all of that restraint was shattered. Zver was unleashed. He had no plans of going easy on me, and I didn’t want him to.
He moved over me with a force that left me gasping, his hands on my skin, pulling me closer, urging me to meet him halfway. I wanted it—needed it. His touch was demanding, desperate, as if he couldn’t get enough of me. The way he kissed me, his lips bruising mine, told me everything I needed to know about the frustration he’d been holding back.
His grip on me was possessive, almost painful, but I welcomed it. Every thrust, every push of his body against mine, was a release of everything we’d been holding in.
The sound of our bodies, our groans, and our sighs filled the room in the quietest way we could manage to keep Nayda asleep. The heat rose between us until I was on the edge, teetering, and then we both fell.
He buried his face between the crook of my neck, and I held tightly onto him as we busted together, coming over each other in the most synchronized harmony ever.
When it was over, he moved us to the bed, and we lay there. Rafayel’s arm was around me, his breath still uneven, and I could feel his fingers tracing circles on my skin, his touch almost soothing now. But his voice broke the silence.
“Don’t take the pill.” He kissed my chest. “I want another child. I want Nayda to have a brother or sister.”
I turned to face him and pressed a tired kiss on his lips. I had thought about it before: the idea of another child, of giving our daughter a sibling. And it was refreshing knowing he thought the same.
“I like that idea,” I whispered back. “I love you, Rafa.”
His lips met mine again, this time slower, almost tender. “I know. Most women do.”
And I punched his chest.
“Asshole.”
*****
THE END