Chapter 22 Francesco #2
I nod, grateful for the distraction. A drink is placed in front of me, and we both raise our glasses, the crystal clinking softly. The tension I’ve been carrying loosens, but only a little.
We talk about trivial things. Some upcoming events we have to attend as a couple, a few wedding plans, and people I don’t really care about.
But I can feel the undertone of something more, something unspoken between us.
Silvia’s always been a smooth talker, capable of navigating the shadows just like the rest of us.
I’m sure she can sense the heavy weight I’m carrying.
I try to lose myself in the moment—in the soft music that fills the air, in the calm and quiet around me. But all I can see is Lia, sitting across from me, smiling, laughing at something I’ve said.
God, I would kill to hear the sound of her laughter.
“You’re thinking about her.”
My chest drops at the sound of Silvia’s voice. She scoffs, shakes her head at me, and for the first time since we got engaged, her eyes blaze in anger.
“At least try to pretend a little.”
“I didn’t even do anything—”
“You never have to do anything!” she says in exasperation. “I can see it. Everyone with eyes can see it.”
She doesn’t have to spell it out. She doesn’t have to say what it is. We both know.
She blows out a frustrated breath and presses a hand against her forehead.
“I’m sorry, I’m just—”
“Don’t apologize,” I say firmly, and I mean it. “My actions have been disrespectful toward you. You have every right to be upset.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “I don’t care what you do or who you love. I’m just… frustrated, I guess, and I poured it out on you.”
Love?
I’ve never tried to describe what I feel toward Lia.
I just know it’s strong, consuming in a way that nothing else in my life has ever been.
It’s not gentle or easy. It doesn’t fit into boxes or follow rules.
It claws at me when I’m alone and burns through me when she’s near.
It feels like madness and clarity all at once.
Like I’ve been drowning my whole life and only just realized she’s the air.
And maybe that’s the problem. Maybe it’s not love.
Maybe it’s obsession.
And for someone as damaged as me, that’s all I can offer.
I observe Silvia for a few seconds. I’ve been so hung up on my own problems that I haven’t noticed she might be going through some things too. I tend to forget how similar we are, how we both have to carry on the weight of our families’ expectations.
She stands abruptly from her seat. “I think I should leave. I need to get some rest.”
And then she’s grabbing her bag and leaving.
I remain seated for a few seconds, trying to figure out how we went from having the first normal date we’ve ever had to her walking away like that. After a few minutes, I settle the bill and return home, more antsy than ever.
I retire to my office and try to get some more work done, but Silvia’s words don’t leave my head. For the next few hours, I mull over them as images of Lia appear in my head. My body feels restless, like I can’t stay still until I see her again.
Until I talk to her.
It’s almost midnight when I walk into the kitchen.
The overhead lights cast a dim glow across the marble counters, and I don’t bother turning on the rest. I need the shadows right now.
I sit at the island, elbows on the surface, head in my hands.
I stay like that for a while, staring at nothing, the weight of everything pressing down on me.
I should stop thinking about her. Whatever we had should end. She’s with Marco now.
But she’s carrying my child. She’s mine. She’s—
My fists clench. The more I try to convince myself to walk away, the more it burns.
I don’t know how long I sit there before I finally stand. My chair scrapes the floor with a sharp sound, and I push away from the counter. I leave the kitchen, every single part of me hoping I bump into her even though that might be a terrible idea.
The east wing is colder than the rest of the house. It’s quiet and undisturbed. Maybe that’s why I’ve seen her disappear here a couple of times.
I wait in the corridor, lean against the stone wall near an antique cabinet where my mother used to keep some of her precious hand-painted porcelain tea sets.
I remain half-buried in shadow, listening for the softest sound of her, like the pathetic man I am.
My breathing is steady, but my pulse isn’t.
I almost give up when hear it—soft footsteps. She rounds the corner carefully and quietly. I watch as she approaches me unknowingly, catching a whiff of her citrus and strawberry scent even before she gets very close.
She sees me too late.
Her body freezes as she just stands a few inches away from me, watching me.
I push off the wall slowly as the silence between us stretches on.
“Lia.”
She takes a step back, and her breath catches. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
She wraps her arms around herself, and that is when I take in the white silk robe she’s wearing. I grit my teeth, taking in her soft curves and supple skin.
“You knew I would be here,” she whispers, her eyes narrowing.
I chuckle painfully. “I told you I always watch you. I see you, even when you pretend I don’t exist, even when you’re by his side—”
“You have to stop,” she says firmly. “If we get seen together—”
“No. You don’t get to tell me that.” I take another step toward her. “You’re carrying our child but wearing his ring. You think that’s easy for me to just accept?”
An unreadable look crossed her eyes as she takes a step back.
“You think I wanted this?” she hisses suddenly, her eyes flashing. “You think I don’t lie awake every night asking myself how the hell I ended up in this… fucked-up situation?”
“So you’re just going to play along?”
“I have to! Because I’m carrying a Romano child, and I’m trapped in this fucking game you people play! This is my only chance at survival!”
We are both breathing heavily now. I’m still angry, still broken, but I can see the turmoil in her eyes as well.
The air between us shifts. It becomes heated, almost to the point where I can’t breathe.
She seems to feel it too, because she turns her back on me, gripping the stone wall in front of her. I walk up behind her. Slowly. When I press my hands against the stone wall, boxing her in, she stiffens… but she doesn’t pull away.
“I’m losing my mind,” I whisper, my breath brushing her neck. “I’m slowly going crazy. I wish I weren’t so fucking powerless…”
“Francesco…”
I blow out a heavy breath.
“Do you know how gutting it is for me?” My voice cracks. “How painful it is, watching you walk past me like I’m nothing? Watching him touch you, claim you, like I wasn’t your first?”
Her breath hitches.
“Don’t say that,” she whispers, turning to look at me. “I belong to Marco now.”
My hand finds her stomach, and she lets out a shaky breath when I run my hands over the smooth skin. “This says otherwise.”
She grabs my hand to pull it away.
“You don’t get to claim me just because I’m carrying your child,” she says in a low hiss.
“And he doesn’t get to claim you just because you’re wearing his rock on your finger.”
She glares at me through narrowed eyes, but her back arches slightly off the wall when I use both hands to grab her waist and press my body to hers.
“We can’t,” she gasps when I start to pepper kisses on her neck.
I burrow my face into her hair and inhale deeply.
“Just… let me feel you. Let me hold you for a few seconds.”
I can hear her heart beating fast, but the rest of her remains perfectly still as I bury my face in her soft curls, breathing in her scent.
I drag my hands over the soft curve of her waist, over the silk material covering her skin.
Her head falls back against the wall when I drag my hands up to the sides of her breasts.
I run my thumbs over the exposed skin close to her armpits, and she bites her lower lip.
The small sounds she’s making low in her throat make my entire body twitch with arousal. I’ve wanted this so much for days, and now that it’s finally happening, all the feelings of anger and frustration melt away like water under a hot skillet.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m going on my knees before her.
Her eyes flash in panic as she jerks off the wall.
“What are you—”
“Relax.” I press a hand over her lower stomach. “Let me worship you.”
Her hair falls forward as she stares down at me for what seems like hours. With my eyes locked with hers, I press a kiss on her stomach. She shudders, arching toward me.
I trace circles along her ankles before dragging my hands up and under her nightgown. I feel my blood pulsing hotly beneath my skin as my cock rises, hard and desperate.
As I pull the nightgown upward, exposing more of her silken skin, she lets out another soft gasp, one laced with pleasure. I resist the urge to groan out loud when I find her bare and glistening. The scent of her arousal… fuck!
Without any warning, I press an open-mouthed kiss to her inner thigh and suck greedily. I move slowly to the side until my tongue is sliding between her folds.
“Oh…” She digs her fingers into my shoulders, gripping tight.
I trail my tongue around her folds again. Her breath stutters as I lick around her swollen clit, slipping two fingers inside her. When I circle her clitoris with my thumb, she lets out a moan and throws her head back.
“Be quiet,” I murmur against her wet heat.
I continue sucking until her legs begin to shake and she’s rolling her hips impatiently against my mouth.
When I stand up, my body is burning with need.
I press my lips against hers, and she immediately buries her hands in my hair, pulling me even closer.
Her body trembles violently beneath mine, and she moans as I bite her lower lip gently.
My cock presses insistently against my zipper, begging to be released.
With one arm braced on her back, I pull my zipper and pants down roughly, freeing my erection from its confines. Then, I grab her waist and lift her body until she wraps her legs around my waist. With one swift push, I’m inside her.
“Fuck,” I groan, overtaken by pure bliss.
My body remembers hers vividly.
I move slowly at first, taking my time to savor the moment. But then I pick up speed, burying my face into her shoulder as she starts rocking herself against me. My dick twitches painfully at the pressure building in my groin, but I ignore it as I continue to pump inside her.
Her messy waves cling to her neck while the long strands fall loosely past her hips. Her full lips part, and her head falls back, exposing her throat. A sick, twisted part of me wants to mark her, just for my brother to see, but I push the thought down to the back of my head.
I don’t stop slamming into her until her body starts to shake. I place a hand over her mouth as she moans, her body convulsing with her orgasm. I thrust frantically into her until my dick throbs and I spill deep inside of her.
Claiming her once again.