Savage Vows (Titans: Moretti Mafia #2)

Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Alessia

The Sterling Uptown

I can’t believe I’m doing this.

The thought loops in my mind. The elevator doors open to the gleaming lobby of the Sterling Uptown.

With my heart thundering, I exit, and Chiara, as wary as I am, follows.

Matteo is already waiting.

Even from here, he dominates the space.

His tailored suit clings to broad shoulders that aren’t pulled back as far as they usually are.

Uncertain? Maybe as much as I am?

The days I’ve been away from him feel like a lifetime, and I can’t help the way I react to him. My body hungers for his, his possession.

The way my thoughts have suddenly short circuited is the reason I had to stay away from him.

When he’s near, I’m desperate for his attention.

Slowly I make my way toward him, and my knees seem to wobble. I offer a short prayer that they’ll support me.

His eyes stark, he walks toward me, and he attracts the attention of the staff.

The concierge’s forehead wrinkles as she watches him.

A security guard near the entrance straightens and places a hand on his earpiece, his gaze flicking between Matteo and me.

The two make eye contact, and the concierge reaches for the phone.

I should have thought about what effect Matteo entering the hotel would have on the staff. And on him. But that he’d taken the chance proves that my comfort mattered more than his own.

Despite the distractions, I can’t look away from Matteo.

His face is stark and haunted, like a man wrestling ghosts he can’t escape. My hands shake, and I lace them together so he doesn’t notice.

His text last night had given me hope—a tiny sliver of it—but hope is dangerous. He’s still Matteo Moretti.

By the time I reach him, my resolve to keep my emotional distance wavers but doesn’t break. “Matteo,” I whisper.

The raw vulnerability in his intense eyes steals my breath. “Alessia,” he murmurs, his voice low, as if he’s afraid to scare me off.

“Do you mind if we sit? Maybe in the bar?”

Since I’m not sure how much longer I can remain upright, I nod.

Like he had in the past, he cups my elbow.

Instant heat pours through me.

I should pull away, but I don’t, can’t.

Without waiting to be seated by the hostess, he moves us to a secluded table in the lobby bar, tucked away from curious eyes but not entirely private.

Chiara hovers a few feet away, her gaze trained on Matteo. Nash looms nearby, blocking access to our table with his body.

The hotel’s security guards follow us. One positions himself at the exit, the other leans up against a nearby wall.

A server comes over to take our order.

He asks me what I want.

I request a glass of the champagne that Bella introduced me to.

“Good taste,” he says.

“Only the best,” I agree.

Last night, I’d asked room service to deliver a bottle to my room. If I wasn’t billing the cost to Matteo, I would never have considered such an expensive option. Bella’s a bad influence, and I love it.

When the server looks at him, he orders a Bonds whiskey. “Gold label. Neat.”

The same kind I put in the hot chocolate in England. Now that I know the price, I can’t believe I did that.

Promising to be right back, she leaves us alone.

Before we can settle into a conversation, my phone rings, and Matteo motions me to answer it.

That’s different. Generally he consumes all the oxygen in the room, demanding my full attention. Of course, that’s when he wants mine. When it’s the other way around, he’s not at all accommodating.

I pull the device from my purse and check the screen. Rafe Sterling.

With a grin, I show Matteo, and he winces.

Rafe doesn’t wait for me to finish my greeting before asking if I’m okay.

“Thank you. Everything is fine. I apologize. I should have let you know I expected him.”

He assures me the security guards will remain in place during the time we’re together.

“I can be trusted with my wife,” Matteo snaps.

“I’d like to talk to your husband,” Rafe says.

I’m happy to have so many protectors.

Matteo takes the phone when I offer it, and he repeats himself. “I can be trusted with Alessia.”

I don’t hear Rafe’s response, but Matteo’s scowl tells me all I need to know.

Without another word, he hands me back the phone.

“Matteo and I have an understanding,” Rafe assures me.

I’m not so sure about that.

“Don’t hesitate to call me or summon security. Matteo was treated well last time. I won’t be as patient again.”

“Thank you.”

As our beverages arrive, I drop my phone back into place.

Matteo doesn’t drink immediately, but I take a fortifying sip of mine, the delicate bubbles tickling my nose.

The alcohol seems to hit my bloodstream immediately, making me light headed, but then I realize it’s most likely Matteo’s effect on me.

Trying to be patient, I wait for him to speak.

I’m not sure what I’m hoping for out of agreeing to see him, but my heart knows what it wants.

I love him.

Despite everything, I love a man who I didn’t think I could even care about.

But I can’t—won’t—live the life we’ve been living.

“I miss you,” he admits, locking his gaze on mine. His voice is jagged, as though it’s been dragged through glass shards.

“Matteo…”

“I can’t do this without you, Alessia. I’ve been wrong. About so much.”

My throat tightens, and I grip the stem of my glass hard, as if it’s an anchor.

“I’m sorry.”

The same words he’d used in the text.

He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “I’m sorry for everything.”

His expression is unguarded, vulnerable.

Without me asking, he lists his transgressions. “For not listening to you. For putting duty and family ahead of us. For hurting you.” His voice drops, and it becomes unsteady. “For not showing you that you mean everything to me.”

The weight of his honesty makes my heart race, and compassion swims through me. “Words are easy, Matteo.” God. Being reserved is almost impossible. “But has anything changed?”

He straightens, and his jaw tightens. “Yeah. It has. Me.”

How I ache to believe that.

“My mother taught me that family is everything. My father always said protect the family.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t fully comprehend what that really meant until I lost you.” His voice cracks. “The stronger we are together, Alessia, the better I am. The better we both are.”

I exhale shakily. “Those are beautiful words, Matteo.” But they’re not enough. “I won’t go back to the way things were before I left. I can’t.”

He nods, and his expression is fierce with resolve. “Nor should you. You deserve better.”

Then, to my utter shock, he slides out of his chair and drops to one knee. A collective hush falls over the bar. People glance in our direction, but Matteo’s focus remains entirely on me.

“I fucked up.” He seems to have no problem telling me this. I know how much that must cost him. “I left you in the dark when I should have been by your side, sharing everything—the burdens, the choices, the dreams. Ever since…”

His father passed.

“I’ve been selfish, Alessia. And I’ll spend my life making it right, if you let me.” He takes my hand, his touch warm and grounding. “I love you, Alessia.”

My heart is in my throat. I can’t believe this is happening.

“I want to be the man, the husband, the partner you deserve. I want to give you everything—not just my name, but my heart. All of it. I’m yours, if you’ll give me a second chance.”

Tears spill over before I can stop them. His openness, his self-reflection, lays me bare. “Being Mafia is not what I ever wanted,” I whisper. “But you—I want you. I’ve always wanted you, Matteo. But I need your heart. The part of you I’ve glimpsed but never fully had.”

“It’s yours,” he says fervently. “Every part of me is yours. Always.”

The breath I’ve been holding whooshes out.

“Put me out of my misery.” His tone is thick with emotion. “Say you’ll give me a second chance. No more keeping you in the dark. You’re my partner in everything.”

The tears spilling, I nod, “Yes, Matteo. Yes. I love you.”

“You love me?”

“I promise.” I press my free hand to my heart.

“Forever and ever?”

“And a day beyond that.” I’m overcome with happiness.

He stands, and his hand tightens around mine as he pulls me gently to my feet.

Applause ripples through the lobby, but I barely hear it. All I can focus on is the man before me, his dark eyes shining with love and sincerity.

“I have something for you,” he says, pulling an envelope from his pocket. “A month at Elysian Hall. No strings, no obligations. Just you and your art.”

“You…?” Are you serious?

“But more than that…”

There’s more?

“I’d like for us to spend a week at the Mayfair townhome. Just us. We can see London, explore the city, maybe go to France. Call it the honeymoon I didn’t give you.”

The room is spinning.

“And after that? We’ll make it a tradition. A month every year, wherever you want to go. Venice, Alaska, the Caribbean, anywhere. And you can go alone. As long as it makes you happy, I’ll move heaven and earth to make it happen.”

Emotion swells in my chest, too big to contain. I throw my arms around his neck, holding him tightly as the applause swells louder. “Thank you,” I whisper against his ear. “For this.” For love. For freedom. “For everything.”

He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his own purposeful and full of promise. “I have plans for you, Mrs. Moretti.” His voice dips, intimate and sure. “Are you ready to go home?”