Antonio
The past few weeks have been tense, filled with arguments with Dante about installing a security system. He pushed hard, but I stood my ground—this house isn’t going to feel like a cage. I’m fully capable of protecting my wife without making her feel trapped.
Today, though, my focus is entirely on Alessia. It’s her birthday, though she doesn’t realize I remember, which will make the surprise even more meaningful. I set a sleek black box with a silver bow on the side table in the living room. Inside is a new camera. She misses her photography, and I miss the light in her eyes when she’s behind the lens, fully absorbed in capturing the world as she sees it.
The smell of garlic and tomatoes fills the air as I stir the sauce, glancing at the clock. Alessia left early this morning with Cecilia. She’d been hesitant to reach out, worried that Cecilia might be angry at being left in the dark. Cecilia, on the other hand, was certain Alessia would hate her as an extension of her anger toward me. Thankfully, they were able to reconnect and have grown close, something that’s brought them both a sense of peace.
Their outing worked in my favor today, giving me the chance to prepare. I don’t mind cooking, but baking—that’s another story. I followed the recipe to the letter. It’s nothing fancy, just a simple vanilla cake with frosting, but I hope it’ll make her smile. Happy Birthday Alessia is scrawled in shaky gel writing. I stare at it, wondering if it’s enough.
I want tonight to be perfect.
Stepping back, I glance at the table set for two, thoughts drifting to how far we’ve come. Just a few weeks ago, she was all anger and distance. Something I don’t blame her for. She thought she’d escaped this life, and I dragged her back. Worse, I forced her into a marriage she didn’t want.
It was a necessary evil, but evil nonetheless.
Since the knife incident, she’s lowered her defenses—just enough to let me slip through. It’s a subtle shift, barely noticeable, but it’s there in the quiet moments we share. The way she looks at me now, with an expression other than fear or distrust. There’s more—something warmer yet fragile. I’ve made it a point to be here more often, leaving the restaurant in Enzo’s capable hands.
Alessia needs to see that I’m here for her, that I’m invested in this. In us.
We’ve even started doing simple things together, like watching those old eighties romance movies she loves, Say Anything and Pretty in Pink, films I’d never choose on my own. But now, I watch her, captivated by the way her eyes light up during those moments when the characters confess their love. I want to be the man who makes Alessia look like that.
Sometimes we cook together. Alessia taught me how to bake cookies like her Nonna used to—just soft enough in the middle. She laughs when I mess up, when flour ends up on my face or sauce splashes on my shirt. Her laugh—it’s like music, something I could lose myself in. There’s something intimate about sharing these everyday moments with her.
She’s hesitant, still guarded, but she’s letting me in. Slowly. She’s allowing me to see the real Alessia, the one she’s kept hidden for so long. And damn it, I’m falling for her.
I’m falling hard.
It’s not only about my need to protect her, though that instinct is stronger than ever. It’s about her trusting me, leaning on me, needing me. I want to be the man she turns to when things get hard, the man who makes her feel safe. I want her love, even if I don’t deserve it.
But I can’t let my guard down. Draco’s threats hang over us like a storm cloud, and every day the danger grows. I haven’t told Alessia that the messages keep coming. Ominous notes have been left at the restaurant and another outside our house.
I’m trying to shield her from as much as possible, but I see the fear in her eyes every time my phone rings. How her body tenses as if expecting the worst.
Each night before we go to our separate rooms to sleep, I double-check the locks. But it isn’t enough. She’s still scared, and I hate that I can’t take that fear away.
Draco needs to be dealt with. But how? I can’t just kill him and be done with it—he’s her father, and that complicates everything. Starting an all-out war would mean losing everything, including her.
The front door creaks open, pulling me from my thoughts. I glance at the time—she’s right on schedule. A smile pulls at my lips.
“?” Her voice is soft, uncertain.
“In the kitchen,” I call, setting the glasses of wine on the table. I turn as she steps in, her eyes going wide at the sight of the table, the dinner I’ve prepared, and her cake.
“What’s all this?” she asks, her voice thin, as though she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing.
I move closer, my heart pounding harder than I care to admit. “Happy Birthday, tesoro .”
She blinks, clearly taken aback. “How did you know?”
“Back in high school, you tried to keep it quiet, but I never forgot.”
Her eyes well up with tears, and for a moment, I think I’ve done something wrong. I step closer, worry settling in the pit of my stomach. “If you don’t like it, I can make something else, or we can order out?—”
“It’s not that,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion as she looks between the dinner and the cake sitting on the counter. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”
“You’ve never had a birthday party?”
“No,” she says, shaking her head slowly.
I stare at her, at this woman who’s been through more than I can imagine, and all I want to do is erase the years of pain and neglect. When we were younger, I thought I’d be her first for everything—her first love, her first kiss, her first in every way that mattered. That was stolen from me. Stolen from us.
But tonight, I get to be her first for this. Something pure.
I swallow the bitterness that rises in my throat. “Then I’m glad I get to be the first,” I say softly, brushing my thumb over her cheek. I hold her gaze, my voice lowering. “And even though I missed so many of your firsts, I promise I’ll be your last.”
Her eyes widen slightly at my words, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she watches me, something unreadable stirring in her expression. I pull out her chair, motioning for her to sit. When she does, there’s a soft, genuine smile on her lips.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. She glances at the table and then back at me. “For all this. It’s perfect.”
I brush my thumb over her cheek again, letting the moment hang between us. “I plan on making you feel special every chance I get.”
She laughs, the sound light, and I can’t help but grin in response. "You're going to spoil me."
"That's my plan."
Dinner isn’t extravagant—just pasta, bread, a salad. By the way she savors every bite, you’d think I prepared a five-star meal. When I bring over the cake, her eyes light up, and I’m certain I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make her smile like that.
After we finish our cake, I lead her to the living room.
“I have one more surprise,” I say, handing it to her.
“You didn’t have to get me a present.”
“I wanted to. Open it,” I encourage.
She unwraps it eagerly. The moment she lifts the lid and sees the camera inside, her face lights up, and she lets out a soft gasp.
“.” She looks up at me, tears welling again.
“I know how much you’ve missed it.”
She sets the camera down carefully and walks over to where I’m standing. “Thank you. This means more to me than you’ll ever know.”
“You mean more to me than you know,” I murmur, cupping her face in my hands.
For the briefest moment, I see it—hope.
I brush my lips against hers. The kiss is tentative at first, a gentle connection that feels fragile, as if any sudden movement might shatter the moment. I expect her to push me away, but she doesn’t.
She leans into me, and the world narrows to just this moment. The feel of her lips on mine, the warmth of her body against me. The danger and threats all fade into the background.
I don’t deserve her trust, but I’ll spend every day proving I’m worthy of it.
“I want you to know,” Alessia says quietly. “I’ve never had sex of my own free will.”
Her confession hits me harder than I expected. I know she’s been through hell, but hearing it said so plainly, so vulnerably, stirs a mix of anger and grief I can’t ignore. It’s a reminder of everything we’ve lost and everything we’re still fighting for.
“We can wait,” I say, my voice low. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”
She looks up at me, her eyes searching mine. “I don’t want to wait,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “I’ve already waited too long. I want to be with you, .”
I hold her gaze, every protective instinct firing in my blood. “I’ll be gentle,” I promise, my lips brushing against her skin. “If you want to stop, just tell me, and I will.”
She runs her fingers through my hair before rising onto her toes, pressing her mouth to mine. The kiss is soft, as though we’re both learning how to do this—how to be together again. I lift her easily, her legs wrapping around my waist. Her warmth seeps into me like a slow burn, igniting every nerve.
Carrying her upstairs, our lips stay connected, the kiss growing more urgent with each step as if we’re trying to make up for all the time that’s been stolen from us. When I lay her down on the bed, her eyes lock onto mine, filled with a mix of trust and something more profound—something that makes my pulse race.
Slowly, reverently, I undress her, taking my time, savoring each moment as more of her is revealed to me. For so many years, I imagined this—dreamt of her like this, bare beneath me, trusting me completely. Each touch feels like the fulfillment of something that was always meant to be.
I trail my lips along her collarbone, down the curve of her neck, across her shoulders, tasting her skin and memorizing the way her breath hitches with each touch. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted and so much more.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur as I slide her leggings off. My hands trace the smoothness of her thighs, and I can’t help but marvel at how perfect she is.
Alessia pushes up on her elbows, watching as I pull my shirt off. Her eyes linger on my tattoos before her teeth catch her lower lip.
“Spread your legs,” I say, my voice dropping an octave.
“I’m scared.”
“I won’t hurt you.” I lower myself over her and brush a kiss against her lips.
Her gaze holds mine, seeking more reassurance. I kiss her again, letting my touch say what my words can’t, showing her the depth of my promise. Slowly, her body softens beneath me as her hands slide over my shoulders, pulling me closer.
My touch is light against her skin as I trail kisses down her neck to her breasts. I tease one nipple, taking it gently into my mouth while my fingers trace the other. Her breath quickens, each soft sound a quiet invitation. “Do you like that?” I ask, looking up at her.
Alessia responds by arching her back into my touch, silently communicating her pleasure. My lips trail down her stomach. As my hand slides across her hip, she lets out a small sigh.
I part her legs and run my finger through her arousal. “You’re so responsive.”
“It feels so good,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
“Do you want more?” I ask, my finger teasing her entrance
“Yes,” she breathes.
“Tell me what you want.” I urge as I feather kisses along her inner thigh.
“Kiss me,” she whispers.
“Where?”
“There,” she says so quietly I can barely hear her.
“Where’s there? ”
“,” she says my name, frustration in her voice.
I glance up at her with a grin. “You’ll have to be more specific, tesoro .”
“My pussy,” she says softly. “I want you to kiss me there.”
Desire courses through me, going straight to my cock. “As you wish.” Without hesitation, I part her folds, my tongue sweeping over her clit with a slow, deliberate stroke, savoring the softness of her. Her taste, warm and intoxicating, fills my senses as I circle her clit again, flicking my tongue over the sensitive bud. Gradually, I pick up the pace, each soft moan from her lips driving me closer to the edge.
Tracing slow, deliberate circles with my tongue, I savor every response as her body reacts beneath mine. I slip one finger inside her, easing into a gentle rhythm before adding another, pressing deeper. Her moans grow louder, her body arching as I find her G-spot and massage it, while my tongue moves in soft, rhythmic strokes over her clit, coaxing her pleasure with every touch.
Her body writhes, and I steady her with a firm grip on her hip. “,” she breathes my name, and I push her closer to the edge.
“It’s okay,” I murmur. “Just relax and let it happen.”
“I don’t know how,” she whimpers.
She fists the sheets, her legs tensing as her climax builds. Her walls tighten around my fingers, and with one final thrust of my tongue, she shatters, crying out my name as her orgasm takes over.
Her body trembles, lost in ecstasy as I continue drawing out every wave of pleasure. A warm rush flows over my fingers as I push her even higher. I don’t stop until the final tremors fade, her body gradually surrendering to the soft aftermath of release.
I’ve dreamed of this moment, imagined her taste for years. Alessia watches as I bring my fingers to my mouth, licking them clean. She tastes even better than I’d imagined. “Delicious,” I say, savoring the word.
She covers her face with her hands. “Don’t,” I say gently. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I’ve never had a man’s mouth on me,” she whispers, her voice soft and almost shy. “And I’ve never felt anything like that.”
“It’s only the beginning,” I say, popping the button on my pants and sliding them down. “Because now that I’ve tasted you, I’ll never get enough.”
Seeing me naked for the first time, her eyes roam my body, stopping on my hard cock. “What’s that?”
“Piercings,” I reply, climbing over her and capturing her lips in another kiss. “They won’t hurt,” I promise, my voice dark and full of need. “I need to be inside you, tesoro .”
I wait, watching for any sign that she’s ready. Her fingers trail softly down my back, her touch light yet sure. She shifts beneath me, her body opening, a quiet, unspoken invitation.
Guiding myself to her entrance, I ease in slowly, savoring the tight warmth that envelops me. A low groan escapes me. “Look at how perfectly we fit,” I murmur, pulling back slightly before thrusting deep within her.
I move in a slow, steady rhythm, our bodies merging. Her breath catches, and I press my lips to hers, filled with desperate need. Every inch of her is like home—the piece I’ve been missing
“I can feel your piercings,” she breathes, her voice thick with pleasure.
"Do you like them, tesoro ?" My hips move faster, pulling a moan from her.
Her nails dig into my back as our pace quickens. “Yes,” she gasps.
“I want to take my time,” I say, my voice strained. “But I don’t think I can hold back much longer.”
“Then don’t,” she whispers.
I let go, driving into her over and over, her body pulling me to the edge. “You were made for me.”
“.” My name falls from her lips like a prayer as she clutches my shoulders, her body coming apart beneath mine.
The sensation of her squeezing around me pushes me over the edge. I know I should pull out, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I thrust one last time and surrender to my own release, groaning as my cock pulses, filling her with my cum.
I collapse onto her, my lips finding hers again, claiming her as I come down from the high. Gently, I pull out and settle by her side, wrapping her in my arms. Her body feels warm, soft, perfect against mine. But after a moment, she whispers, “You came inside me.”
“I did,” I admit. “But I’m clean. I haven’t been with anyone in almost a year.”
“I’m not on birth control,” she says, her voice soft but unsure. “After Val died I didn’t need it so I stopped taking it.”
A slow smile spreads across my face. "Good," I say, brushing my thumb over her lips. "Maybe you’ll end up pregnant with my child for real."
Alessia’s breath catches, uncertainty washing over her face. She blinks up at me. "A baby?" she whispers, almost as though she’s thinking out loud.
"I want you to be mine in every way possible." The thought fills me—her carrying my child, bound to me forever. "But only if you’re ready for it,” I add, letting the words linger, hopeful, yet patient.
"I didn’t expect this," she admits. "I didn’t think you’d actually want a baby.” Her eyes search mine as if trying to make sense of what I’m saying.
I hold her gaze, steady and sure, wanting her to see the truth in my eyes. There’s no doubt, no hesitation. I know this might be overwhelming for her, and I hadn’t allowed myself to imagine it before. But now that we’re here—now that I’m here with her—it feels undeniable, like it’s exactly where we’re meant to be. A part of me wants this more than I ever expected, more than I thought possible. I brush my hand over her stomach, the idea settling into place.
"I didn’t have a good example of what it means to be a mother. I’m not sure I’d be any good at it," she says softly, her hand resting on mine. The warmth of her touch stirs something deep inside me, something primal. "But the idea of being yours like that..." Her voice trails off, vulnerable, unsure.
“You have so much love to give.” I tighten my grip on her hand. I want to tell her everything. How she’s the only one who’s ever mattered to me, how I’ve dreamed of a future where she’s mine, but before I can speak, the sound of shattering glass echoes through the room. Tires screech outside as a car speeds away.
“What was that?” Alessia cries.
I push myself up, heart hammering in my chest. “I’m going to find out. Stay here,” I say sharply, pulling my pants on in a rush. There’s no time for hesitation. Grabbing my gun from the nightstand, I check the chamber to make sure it’s loaded. "Lock the door and don’t leave this room until I come back."
Her eyes are filled with fear, but there’s no time to reassure her right now. I move quickly, making my way down the darkened hallway, every nerve in my body on high alert. The adrenaline surges through my veins as I descend the stairs.
When I reach the living room, my worst fear is confirmed. The front window is shattered, shards of glass scattered across the floor, and among the debris lies a brick with a piece of paper wrapped around it.
Unfolding the note, my blood runs cold as I read the words scrawled in jagged handwriting:
The walls are closing in, stone by stone, inch by inch. There will be no escape, Alessia. Your fate is sealed.
Draco.
He’s getting bolder, no longer content to lurk in the shadows. I crush the note in my fist. He’s playing with fire, awakening a monster he won’t be able to control.
A soft creak behind me pulls me from my thoughts. I turn to find Alessia standing at the bottom of the stairs, worry etched on her face. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts, the fabric hanging loosely around her.
"I told you to stay in the room," I say, my tone harsher than I intend. The hurt in her eyes softens my resolve. Reaching out, I pull her into my arms. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”
“I was scared something would happen to you."
Her arms wrap around me, her body warm against mine, calming my fears. But it doesn’t last. I pull back, needing her to understand the gravity of the situation. "That’s why you need to stay where I tell you. I can’t do what I need to if I’m worrying about you.”
She nods, but her eyes drift toward the shattered glass. "What does it say this time?"
"It’s not important," I lie, keeping my voice steady despite the weight of the situation. My gaze drops to her feet, noticing the shards of glass scattered around her. "I don’t want you getting cut."
Without another word, I lift her into my arms, cradling her close as I carry her back upstairs. "I want you to sleep in my bed tonight," I say, more firmly than before. “In our bed,” I correct myself, my voice softening as I realize what I’m asking.
She rests her head against my shoulder, her trust in me clear despite her fear. “I’d like that, too,” she whispers.
I settle her gently into the bed, watching as she curls into the blankets. Her eyes are wide, still full of worry, and I can feel the tension radiating off her.
“,” she whispers. “I’m scared.”
I slip out of my pants and ease in beside her, pulling her close. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” I murmur against her hair.
She presses closer, but her body remains tense. “Do you think we should have a security system installed? Maybe put some guards at the door?”
I pull back slightly to look at her. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“I think so. I can’t keep living like this, always waiting for something bad to happen.”
A slow exhale escapes as my hand brushes through her hair. “If that’s what you want, I’ll do it. Anything to make you feel safe.”
Her breathing slows as she processes my words, and the tension in her body starts to ease. “Thank you,” she murmurs softly before drifting off to sleep in my arms. I hold her close, my mind still racing. As her breathing slows and evens out, I’m left wondering if I’ve been too complacent—too stubborn to protect her the way I should. I can’t let my pride get in the way anymore.
Quietly, I slip out of bed and grab my phone, stepping into the hallway as I dial Dante’s number. It rings several times before he finally picks up, his voice groggy and low.
“We’ve got a problem.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Draco sent another message. Through my front window.”
“I’m on my way,” he replies without hesitation.
“I want you to move forward with the security system. And I need men stationed at the door—tonight.”
There’s a brief pause before Dante speaks. “You’re sure?”
“I am,” I say firmly, glancing back at the bedroom where Alessia is finally resting. “It’s what she needs.”
“I’ll handle it,” Dante replies before hanging up.
Back in the bedroom, I stand at the edge of the bed, watching Alessia sleep peacefully, unaware of the true extent of the danger just beyond our walls. After a deep breath, I pull on my clothes.
“I’ll be back soon,” I whisper as I brush a soft kiss across her forehead. She stirs slightly, but her breathing remains steady.
With one last, lingering look, I slip out of the room. The emotions I’d buried, smothered under years of silence, have clawed their way back to life, fierce and unrelenting. Alessia has always been the one, the pulse in my darkened heart.
Now that she’s mine, nothing in this world or the next will take her from me again.