33. Elio
33
ELIO
I couldn’t keep my fucking eyes off Georgia at dinner. Jealousy and possessiveness had stewed in my gut as I’d watched her talk to Sokolov. Why the hell had I brought her? Ah, yes, to send the message to my world and its important players that this woman was mine now. Mine . And there would be no mercy for anyone who forgot that.
I’d clearly never forgotten. Lie to myself as I might, the fucking walls of her bedroom of the penthouse were undeniable. How long had I been preparing the perfect prison for my little country mouse? How long had I planned to take her, and keep her? How long would I have been able to leave her alone to live her life, had Renato not sent me after her? Another month? A year? Had I always just been waiting for my patience to run out? Or Tommaso Conti to shuffle off the mortal coil and leave her alone and unprotected…
Now, we were walking by the marina for no other reason than I wanted to delay leaving here and going back to the penthouse. I wanted to delay the moment when she’d disappear into her own bedroom and shut me out.
The last few days had made one thing extremely clear.
I was going to lose this battle she was unknowingly waging against my self-control. Her fucking whispered confession had haunted me, as had her drunken kiss.
I was going to snap.
And I wanted to.
Georgia had high heels on, and her entire body swayed with every step. It was hypnotic.
We were nearly at the yacht. I’d had it a few years, imagining that maybe once I did, I’d become the kind of man who worked less and went out and enjoyed his free time more. I’d pictured being on the boat, with the calm waters all around, and hoped that maybe, just maybe, they could calm me, too.
It hadn’t worked.
The damn thing sat in the marina and mocked me whenever I saw it. A reminder of my failed attempts to be anything in this life other than the De Sanctis sottocapo . A natural-born killer.
Only one thing had calmed me in fourteen years… and it was this woman’s touch. I was completely fucked. I could be calm and controlled and emotionless as hell, and Georgia might as well laugh at my efforts. Around her, I felt like a desperately-in-love twenty-year-old whose sun rose and fell by her smile.
“I would say this is romantic, but isn’t this the kind of place where bodies get dumped?” Georgia said, waving her hand around the marina.
“No, the best places are up by Long Branch,” I replied.
She stopped before realizing I was joking. To be fair, jokes felt like a foreign language in my mouth. I had very little experience with them of late.
“What? Are you shocked? Did you think as Renato’s sottocapo I just push papers in an office? We both know what I am… what I’ve become.” My voice was tightly controlled.
She frowned at me. “Yes, like your father,” she said softly.
Ouch, that one stung. This was the problem with being so close to someone who’d known you when you were young. They had too much insight, making stunningly accurate ammunition to wage war with.
“My father didn’t have an inch of the power I command now. Don’t be confused. I am nothing like my father. He was weak, and he couldn’t protect his family… in fact, your father has more in common with him than me,” I pointed out.
She flinched and raised her chin, defensiveness taking over. “At least he tried to be good once.”
“Did he? So did I…” I raised a hand and stroked her cheek. I couldn’t stay away.
“Those days in Castel Amaro… I tried to be good. I tried to be what you deserved, and look where it got me,” I added, forcing myself to walk on.
“It got you here,” she called out.
I stopped but didn’t turn.
“It got us both right here, together,” she continued.
It was true. Somehow, fate had brought us back together again.
We had just reached the gangway of the yacht when a dark shadow caught my attention. Farther along, in the boat just past mine, dark shapes were moving.
Trouble. I’d been waiting for the Ravellis to show up, and here they were, but in a greater number than I’d expected. Damn it.
I reached for my phone just as a shot rang out. I whirled Georgia around and covered her with my body, dropping us both to the ground, just behind a hulking boat lift. The shot flew over our heads, and a hail of fire exploded from behind us.
“What the hell?” Georgia gasped, scared. She gripped my arm. “Who is that?”
“My people are following us. I need you to get onto this yacht, go down to the bottom level, and lock yourself in the bathroom. I’ll take care of everything else.”
“Are these Ravellis?” she gasped.
“Yes, they are, and they’re here for you,” I told her, peering over the top of the boat lift. My gun was in my hand, and I was ready to take out the threat.
Georgia’s hand shook in mine, and I glanced at her.
“Don’t be scared. You’re not going anywhere. No power on this fucking planet could take you from me. I won’t let them.”
She blinked at me, the conviction in my voice ringing true. I’d never said anything truer than that.
“Now, when I say go, you go, and you don’t look back.” I was taking her high-heeled shoes off for her as I spoke. I pressed one into her hand, spiked heel facing outwards. It never hurt to have a weapon.
She nodded, letting me guide her to the very side of the boat lift.
“Now, go!” I urged and started to shoot.
I covered her, and she ran as fast as she could, her bare feet slapping the sidewalk. She didn’t draw their fire. So, that meant they were probably instructed to bring her back alive. I didn’t know if Prosecutor Bellisario had done his duty and ratted on the Ravellis yet or not, but it seemed their plan hadn’t changed yet. Get the girl and use her to twist her father’s arm.
Well, it was too fucking late for that.
I was her husband, and no one would get through me.
Four men spread out in front of me, their movements precise and controlled. Trained fighters. No wasted steps. Four more took off behind me, aiming for my team, already running toward me. I tossed my gun. Covering Georgia had left me out of bullets. I’d have to do this the old-fashioned way.
The first guy struck fast, a sharp jab aimed at my face. I slipped left, feeling the punch rush past my cheek, and drove my elbow into his ribs. He let out a grunt and staggered back, but I had no time to follow up. The second attacker was already closing in, his foot snapping toward my stomach.
I caught his leg midair and twisted hard. His body spun sideways, his balance gone. Before he could recover, I slammed my knee into his chest and shoved him backward. He toppled over the edge of the dock, and a splash echoed in the night.
The third man, a thick-set bruiser, came at me with a heavy swing. I barely ducked in time, his fist cutting through the air above my head. I countered with a sharp strike to his throat. He choked, stumbling back and gasping for air.
Then I saw the glint of steel.
The fourth fighter, faster than the rest, lunged at me with a knife. I twisted my body just as the blade slashed past, barely missing my side. I flashed my hand out, grabbing his wrist, and with a sharp wrench, I turned his own weapon against him. The blade buried itself in his thigh. His scream tore through the silence.
Behind me, movement. I turned. The first attacker had recovered and launched a spinning kick. I stepped in, cutting off his momentum, and caught him mid-turn. A quick sweep took his legs out, sending him crashing onto the dock.
That left only the bruiser. He stood there, panting, fists still raised but unsteady. I wiped my lip, feeling the sting in my knuckles.
“Still want to do this?” I asked, my voice calm.
His eyes flicked to the bodies around us. He hesitated. Then, slowly, he stepped back. Once. Twice. Then he disappeared into the darkness.
I tore my eyes from the sight of Ravellis fleeing me and my team and nodded to Ettore to give chase.
“ Ehi, bastardo! Guardate qui! ”
I spun toward the shout just in time to see Georgia, her yellow dress bloodied, her body held against her attacker. Some motherfucker had caught her on the yacht.
“Santori! Stop right now, or she won’t make it to tomorrow. Put your hands up!”
The rest of my security had moved away, chasing down the remaining Ravellis who had made the worst mistake of their lives tonight by showing up at the marina.
I’d known they were coming. They hadn’t scattered back to Naples as fast as I’d have liked. The justice system in Italy was taking as long as it could to put Prosecutor Bellisario out of commission. The man had to have gotten our message and known that his daughter was now part of the family. He should be ratting on the boss of these motherfuckers right now, but it all took time.
Time for them to keep thinking that they could threaten him with his daughter.
I was sick of it. It was time to end these fucks on American soil.
My team was pursuing the others. They wouldn’t let any of them live.
This fucker, though, he was mine.
I put my hands up slowly, my eyes meeting Georgia’s.
“I’m going to give you the best advice anyone has ever given you…” I called to him.
Georgia was terrified; I could see it in every line of her face. And yet, there was steel beneath that fear. There always had been.
My eyes flickered to the high heel in her hand, reminding her that she was still clutching it.
Her eyebrows jumped. She remembered. Of course she did. My clever girl. My wife.
“Right, like I need advice from you, Santori. You should just do us all a favor and fucking die!” the man shouted, his face red and voice strangled.
I chuckled. “Don’t tell me the stress of coming here and trying to take out some of Renato De Sanctis’ men is giving you trouble?”
“Not just any man.” The underling grunted.
He pointed the gun at me, and I took an easier breath now that the dark muzzle wasn’t pointed at Georgia anymore.
“You,” he said. “Why can’t you just die, man?”
I shrugged. “Would you believe me if I told you I was working on it?”
My gaze hit Georgia’s eyes again, and the look I saw in them twisted something that used to be my heart.
“Now, that advice that I was offering you, for free, no less, is this.” I shot Georgia a meaningful glance and got ready to move. “You’re really not going to want to touch my wife. Ever.”
The man sneered. “Right, and what are you going to do about it?” he began, but didn’t get to finish, because Georgia exploded into motion.
She brought her hand holding the shoe flying up toward the attacker’s face, the heel sinking into his cheek.
He roared and let her go, and the gun, aimed in my direction, went off.
I barely felt the bullet hit my arm. I was sprinting toward the two of them as they fought. He pulled back to hit Georgia, and she bent under his arm, so his blow went wide. They hit the railing of the yacht, and the guy tried to point his gun at her again, but she went after that arm, grappling for the gun.
I was almost there.
I was so damn close.
And then their weight shifted somehow. One second, they were grappling with the gun, pressed against the railing, and the next moment, they were going over.
“No!” I shouted, closing the distance between us.
Georgia’s light dress was the only thing I could make out in the dark water. I dived off the railing and into the cold water without hesitation. My arm throbbed distantly, and I swam toward the two of them, but I couldn’t see a fucking thing underwater. My heart was pounding, and something that tasted like fear sat on my tongue. I hadn’t been afraid in a very long time. Not true fear.
Now, I was fucking terrified.
I surfaced, my lungs burning and screaming for air. Gulping down a breath, I spied a body dragging something onto a nearby platform.
I sliced through the water toward them and grabbed the railing, hauling myself up.
The man was bent over Georgia, and I pitched myself at him. We rolled over the rough boards. He’d lost the gun, and now only had his hands to defend himself, which were a very poor defense for what I was going to do to him.
I wrestled him into submission, slinging my body over his and easily subduing his lesser weight, then gripped his head with both hands. He thrashed and heaved beneath me. I banged his head against the wooden boards hard. Once, twice, three times. The smell of copper hit the air along with the salt of the water around us.
He stopped fighting back. Rage filled me. Pure and unfiltered. Uncontrollable.
I roared at him and banged his head again and again, and then twisted it sharply and cracked his neck for good measure.
On my knees, I crawled to Georgia. She was lying still.
No. No. No.
I reached for her and pulled her into my arms.
“ Topolina , wake up. You’ve just swallowed some water. Wake up,” I urged, slapping her cool cheeks.
She was still. I gently laid her on the platform and lowered my mouth to hers, blowing air into her lungs and then starting chest compressions.
A move I’d done countless times, in jungles and deserts. I was still that merciless man, the one who’d lived nightmares, and yet, here, pumping Georgia’s chest, I was also someone else.
I was a poor kid from Naples who’d found a reason to live again. A kid full of hopes and useless dreams and contradictions. A tough boy who wrote poetry. A drifter who wanted to buy the girl of his dreams a house of her own. An unloved boy who’d found a place to belong.
I breathed into her mouth again, her fragile chest expanding beneath my hands.
“Breathe, Georgia, breathe. I told you - you can’t escape me again… I won’t let you go.” I pumped her chest. “Not when I’ve just gotten you back.”
I pumped, and nothing else mattered.
“You asked me to save you once, cara … and I’m here now. I’m finally here,” I muttered. Fuck, my heart pounding actually hurt. A real and terrible ache.
I leaned down to breathe in her mouth again when she coughed.
It was the best sound I’d ever heard.
She coughed, and coughed, and turned, hacking up seawater. I was on my feet and taking her into my arms.
“Elio?” she said.
I was moving across the platform toward my boat. The short makeshift pier joined with the floating dock. Seconds later, I was carrying her through the yacht. The staff were cowering behind the kitchen island. I barely spared them a glance as I swept past.
I reached my bedroom and kicked the door shut behind us.
The sudden bloom of light revealed the dark-red patches across her wet yellow dress. Blood.
“Are you hurt? What hurts?” I urged, my hands searching her body for the place where the blood was coming from. I had to stop it. I had to stop it right now.
“Where does it hurt, damn it?” I demanded. I couldn’t find where the bleeding was coming from.
Georgia’s hands held onto my arms, and I was pretty sure she was speaking. She was saying something, but I couldn’t hear it. I couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of my blood in my ears. It was like a scream.
I couldn’t tell a fucking thing through the clinging wet material of Georgia’s dress. I bent, grabbed the hem, and pulled it apart hard. It ripped up the middle easily.
I tore the dress right off, and finally, the sight of her smooth, golden skin came into view. I ran my hands over her. Her underwear was wet but unbloodied.
“Turn,” I commanded and spun her around, holding her by the back of the neck to make her comply. I pulled the tattered remains of her dress from her and checked down her shoulders, her back, and over her thighs.
“Elio!” Georgia’s sharp cry cut through my panic.
I focused on her face as she turned around.
“I’m okay, it’s not my blood!” she said. “It’s yours. I’m okay.”
I shook my head. “No, you’re not… you were nearly hurt, and I couldn’t stop it.”
“But I’m not,” she insisted, and a raw laugh left me.
“No thanks to me.” I moved my inspection onto her head. I ran my hands through her dark wet hair, feeling her skull for cuts or lumps.
“It’s not really your job to protect me, you know that, right? Everyone is responsible for themselves at the end of the day.”
No. That’s not true at all.
“You’re my wife. You’re mine to protect until the day I die. Mine .” The last left me in a possessive growl.
My lungs felt tight, and my body ached, but it was all far away somehow, behind the veil of panic that I couldn’t see past. Soldiers didn’t lose their heads. Losing control meant making mistakes, and hadn’t I done nothing but that lately?
I couldn’t keep my sanity around this woman. I was fucking up and making mistakes, and she was going to get hurt…
Georgia slid her hands up my cheeks, cupping my face. The sudden, voluntary touch stilled me.
“ Cittaiolo ,” she murmured. “I’m okay. I’m fine.”
I tried to shake my head. I should explain to her how compromised my control was. How I couldn’t look after her when my heart was beating so hard around her all the time; how my concentration was affected and my discipline torn.
Because I still loved her… after all this time… and I’d never stopped. Not even for a second. I had loved her then, and I loved her now, and I’d loved her all the time in between. I’d hated her, and I’d missed her, and I’d envied her, and I’d coveted her…
And through it all… I’d loved her.
Loving her was my one constant. My love for her was true north on my compass.
I didn’t tell her any of that, however. I didn’t have those words anymore. I wasn’t the brave boy with a broken pencil and notebook who could spell his heart out on a blank page.
But — she made me want to be, for a shining, perfect moment.
I wanted to be that boy she’d loved. The one who could have deserved her one day. Not this broken man who I’d become. An assassin, a ghoul, a stain on the world.
No, I didn’t say any of that.
I showed her, the only way I knew how.
I kissed her.
She melted into my touch, her arms wrapping around my back and pulling me closer. I needed to feel her body close to mine. I moved back, ripping my wet clothes off. Fabric tore and buttons scattered, but soon enough, I was naked. I pressed her into the wall, enjoying every single inch where her skin touched mine.
“You’re so cold.” I nestled my warm body on her chilled skin. I’d nearly lost her. I’d nearly lost her again. I couldn’t contain the horror of that thought.
I ran my hands over her, warming the coldest parts. I cupped her hands and blew on them and moved my hands to her breasts. Her nipples were freezing points, begging to be heated. I lowered my lips to the chilled buds and sucked them into the hot cavern of my mouth, rubbing my tongue over them until she cried out.
I returned to her mouth, kissing her fiercely.
“I told you that you couldn’t escape me.” I lowered a hand between her legs, ripping her panties down her thighs.
Her breath hitched, and she held onto my shoulders. I ran my fingers through her wetness.
“That command extends to death, you should know that.”
I lifted her, and she gasped. I hoisted her effortlessly into my arms. She threw her arms around my neck as I leaned her shoulders against the wall and lined up my cock to her entrance, her legs wrapping around my hips.
“You’re mine, in this life, and the next… I will never let you go.”
And then I slid inside, pushing against her tight muscles. She was wet but so fucking tight. I supposed it had been a long time since her husband had died, and Georgia didn’t seem like she’d been dating. I forced thoughts of other men from my mind. It didn’t matter. Nothing that came before mattered anymore. I’d replace those memories of anyone else. I’d replace the touch of anyone else and make it mine, even if I had to come on every single part of her fucking body. She’d smell like me, be marked by me… be mine.
I went deeper, and she cried out. I was barely holding back. My relief at saving her was too strong. My fear of losing her had stretched my control too far.
I sealed my mouth to hers and forged into her as far as I could, her lithe body finally accepting my invasion. Then I pulled out and slammed back in. She moaned, the sound sending all the hair on my body standing on end. It was a sound I’d never dared to dream I might hear again.
The only blessing I’d ever need.
I fucked her steadily against the wall, forcing myself as deep inside as I could go. I wanted my skin to merge with hers, my heart to thud with hers, and most of all, I wanted to come buried deep inside this woman, so deep she’d never be able to get me out. Then I could taint her, just as truly as she’d tainted me. My sweet, beloved poison.
I was going to come. For the first time in fourteen years, I was coming inside a woman, and it was the same one as all those years before. The only woman I’d ever fucked. The only woman I’d ever wanted to. Georgia was right when she’d called me a robot. I wasn’t a man like other men. I’d never wanted anyone other than her, and when she was lost, I simply hadn’t wanted anyone. My blood rushed only for her. My heart beat only at her command. She thought she was my hostage, my leverage, a prisoner in this marriage. She had no idea that it was already too late for me. I’d always been her most devoted worshipper, even when I thought I hated her.
Now, I was her slave.
“Elio,” she said in my ear, holding on tightly despite my brutal pace. “Elio, I want to come.”
“Then come, cara . Come with me deep inside you… right where I was always supposed to be.”
She cried out, her body tensing and closing around me so tightly, I could barely pull out. Instead, as my balls drew up and my own orgasm surged through me, I pushed deeper in, pinning her to the wall with my cock, and came.
With a shout that was wrenched from my bones, I came endlessly inside her taut channel, feeling her turn even wetter and slippery inside with my cum. Her thighs held me, keeping me inside. Her breasts were flattened to my chest, and her face turned toward mine as soon as I reared my head back. I kissed her, plunged deep, connected once and for all. I kissed her for all that she’d cost me, and for all that I’d suffered without her. I kissed her for all the lonely days and nights without her. I kissed her for how I’d scared her when I’d found her in LA, and how I’d stolen her future from her.
I kissed her for how I had no intention of letting her go. Ever.