Chapter 33 #2
I sense his smile more than I see it. “I’m good.” His prickles graze my skin when he drags his lips down my neck to pepper my skin with kisses. “I’ll have my favorite dessert later.”
A delicious shiver rolls down my spine. It has nothing to do with the bursts of flavor activating my tastebuds. It’s from recalling why he calls me sweetness. He said I’m the sweetest dessert he’s ever tasted and that he’ll never settle for second best, so dolcezza was the perfect nickname.
I breathe deeply while trying to remember that not every second in Giovanni’s life must be devoted to me. God, he makes it hard. Just his lips on my neck and the heat of his body pressed against mine have my hips naturally gyrating.
With his mouth sucking my skin, marking me, he slides the hand he curled around my waist lower. It suspends briefly at the swell of my midsection—compliments to a three-course meal, not a baby—before it inches even lower.
I draw in a needy breath when his fingertips skim the apex of my pussy.
Another inch and he’ll be stroking my clit.
Since half the guests are still lining up for cake, and the other half are too enamored by the sickly sweet dessert, I sweep open my thighs. Not a lot, just enough for Giovanni’s hand to slot between them for the briefest second.
“Fuck… you’re wet.” His voice melds through my veins like liquid ecstasy. “Perhaps I should take you to the coat closet and have my way with you as I’m sure my father is wishing he could do with your mother.”
Bringing our parents into this should immediately dispel my horniness. It doesn’t. Don’t ask me why. I’m as lost as you.
“Why don’t you?”
The heavy ache between my legs builds when he angles his head so our eyes meet. I don’t know what he sees, his eyes are too dark to reflect, but as fast as he snuck up on me, he dumps my half-eaten cake on the table, curls his hand around mine, then makes a beeline for the closest exit.
As we’re about to break through the swinging doors the servers have used all evening, the doors burst open and a tall, brooding man passes through them.
A collective gasp booms around the room before the stranger’s natural arrogance suffocates it of joy.
“Sorry I’m late.” He moseys in like he owns the place. “I seemed to have misplaced my invitation.”
He barely gets a foot inside the dining room when the hand not curled around mine shoots out to grab his arm.
Giovanni’s hold is firm enough for the man to wince, but he tries to hide it with a friendly greeting. “Giovanni. It’s nice to see—”
“Leave. Now.” No matter how much I attempt to keep Giovanni with me, he goes right up to the stranger. “Or I’ll escort you out… unbreathing.”
Every head turns our way when the man’s laughter echoes through the suddenly silent room. He must have a death wish. I could hear the actuality in Giovanni’s tone, and I’ve known him for only a short time.
“Why would I leave, Vanni? This is a family event.” His shrug is as arrogant as his expression. “And I’m family.”
He scans the people gawking at him, as if seeking assistance. I’m confident he’ll continue going it alone, so you can imagine my shock when a loud “Daddy!” bellows across the room.
Valeria pushes back her chair so fast it screeches against the floor. I do nothing but stare.
Daddy? This stranger is her father?
My pulse stutters as confusion makes a mess of my thoughts.
Valeria throws her arms around the stranger’s neck and greets him with a hug. “I thought you said you couldn’t come.”
He doesn’t return her level of affection, and it makes the air even more humid.
When Valeria climbs down, she places herself between Giovanni and her father, which leaves Giovanni no choice but to either free her father from his clutch or risk hurting her to get to him.
My worries must be circling in his head, because he frees Valeria’s father from his grip, but not without a stern shove. “Last warning, Tommaso. Leave. Now.”
“Tomasso?”
It dawns on me that I mumbled my comment out loud when my mother’s shocked gasp shrills into my ears. She’s standing at the main entrance of the dining room, and her hand is covering her mouth.
The color Giuseppe worked so hard for tonight drains from her cheeks as her eyes dart between Valeria and her father.
Then her eyes find me, and they’re overcome with panic.
“Valentina.” My name sounds foreign since it’s hacked with fear. “We need to leave.”
I blink, stunned. “Mom, what’s—”
Quicker than I can question her swift change in demeanor, she races around the room, clamps her hand around my arm, and then drags me toward the exit. “Don’t ask. Just move.” Her command is as deafening as the crack of a whip.
As she yanks me toward the door, the room stills. Nobody moves. Not even Giovanni. He knows I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting my mother, so he has no choice but to watch her drag me out of the festivities or risk losing me for good.
My heels skid on the polished floor when I endeavor to slow Mom’s steps. My fight and Tommaso’s mocking chortles only increase her determination. Her grip is ironclad as she drags me through a maze of chairs and startled faces with Giovanni hot on our tail.
“Mom, please stop. You’re hurting me…”
My confession tears out of my throat with a sob, but her resolve remains firm.
“Mom, please…” I can’t tell the difference between the pain of my request and the ache rocketing up my arm. That’s how hard she is gripping me.
“Concetta!” Giovanni’s shout slices her strides in half, though it doesn’t wholly end them. “You need to listen to her. You’re hurting her. Your daughter. Your flesh and blood. You’re fucking hurting her.” A mix of anger and unease blazes in his eyes. “Let her go, or I’ll—”
I miss his threat when white-hot and merciless pain explodes through me with the tenacity of a bomb. It spears my abdomen and ripples the air with a scream I can’t hold back.
As my knees buckle, my hands dart down to clutch my stomach. My nails bite through the silk fabric, but it has nothing on the agony shredding through me when bright crimson droplets paint the tips of my fingers.
Looking down, my heart shatters. Blood seeps into my dress and spreads like a stain of betrayal.
My vision blurs with tears when a long trail careens down my thighs before it pools on the marble floor under my heels.
As the chandeliers blend into the white halos dancing in front of me, I fight to stay upright.
They’re so pretty they make death less scary, and I nearly succumb to the blackness calling me to it until the voice from my dreams ramrods through chaos.
“Valentina!”
Giovanni catches me in his arms and pulls me into his chest. His heartbeat slams against my ear when he races us past the priceless antiques that adorn the hallways of his family compound.
“Don’t fall asleep,” he demands between stomps. “You can’t fall asleep, okay? Stay with me. Keep your eyes on me.”
Pain overtakes every joyful spasm he’s given me when he gallops me down the front stairs and sprints for the SUV with Matteo behind the wheel and Dante holding open the back passenger door.
The faces of the guests who followed his sprint blur as he carefully places me on the back seat. No amount of tenderness can diminish the terror on my mother’s face, Valeria’s wide eyes, and the calm-as-death nature of the man behind them, though.
Valeria’s father is unfazed by the dramatic event occurring, and although the pain could be making me hallucinate, it appears as if he’s smiling.
As the tangy aroma of blood swamps my tonsils, my body convulses. The pain is excruciating. I’ve never experienced anything close to this level of hurt, and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.
Though it doesn’t make my desire to be my mom’s guardian angel any less stringent.
“Gio… Gio…” If this is my final day on earth, I don’t want to leave until I’m confident Giovanni isn’t angry at my mom.
She needs someone like him on her side, and I don’t want her unusual freakout to make things weird between them.
“My… mom…” The world spins so fast I can’t hold on.
I’m seconds from passing out. “She… She…”
“Your mom is okay. I promise she’ll be fine. It’s crucial that you concentrate on you now, dolcezza. Can you do that for me? Can you put yourself first for a change?”
My fingers clutch his shirt as the darkness creeps in. “I… I…”
My vision fractures as the lights dancing across his handsome face fade. I try to cling to the honesty in his words when he promised Mom would be okay, but the fight becomes unbearable crazily fast.
The agony in the lower half of my body is horrific, but it has nothing on the pain slicing through my head. It feels like my brain is too large for my skull and that it’s seconds from seeping out of my ears.
“Valentina, open your eyes.”
Giovanni shakes me when I fail to obey his command.
I try to tell him I’m okay. It’s peaceful here and pain-free. But the same blackness swallowing all light and sound entombs my words in my throat.
“Valentina!”
The last thing I hear before I’m swallowed whole is Giovanni’s broken plea: “Stay with me, Valentina. Please.”
Then nothing.