Chapter 24
RAQUEL
After another two mind-blowing orgasms, we finally get up and ready ourselves to go. Strapping on my ivory flat sandals, I slip my hand into Dante’s as he locks up before we head over to Dom’s home. Well, I should say Dom and Chiara’s, since she now lives with him.
I glance over at a very put-together Dante as we walk hand in hand.
“How come you don’t look like a man who just gave his wife four orgasms? That’s so unfair.” I shake my head as a knowing grin cracks his face.
“You’re always beautiful,” he tells me, kissing my temple. “I like the way you look right now. All messy, cheeks flushed.”
“Messy? Oh my God. I look messy? Maybe I should go back home and put my hair up.”
I tried to get my strands to cooperate after what we did, but it was no use. My straightened hair now appears to be a wavy mop.
He curls his arm around my hip, pulling me to his side. His bicep is rock hard, flexing beneath his long-sleeved cobalt t-shirt. He looks so casual, yet insanely sexy. Dante is the type of man who can pull off any look flawlessly, like he’s always meant to wear it.
We’re almost to Dom’s—only a few feet away—when he stops, turning me so we face one another.
His thumb tips up my chin. “You need to stop doubting yourself, baby. You’re flawless.
Not just to me. To everyone.” He places a hand against the side of my neck, his thumb gliding past as he leans over and kisses me tenderly, dousing me in the power of his words.
“And I like you messy. Dirty. Knowing it’s me who made you that way. ”
Heat slithers up my body, bolting right into my core. My pulse quickens, caught up in his smooth gaze.
“Now let’s go and eat,” he continues, his voice turning hushed and gravelly. “So we can get back home. I’m going to double the number of orgasms you had earlier.”
“Impossible.” My eyes widen as we continue on our way and make it to the front of Dom’s house. “There’s no way I can do that.”
He knocks, flashing me a lopsided grin. “I can’t wait to show you just how wrong you are.”
The door flies open, and Chiara’s annoyed expression greets us.
“What the fuck, guys?” She plants a hand on her hip, her brows raised. “You couldn’t let us know you’d be late?”
“I’m sorry,” I say, closing my arms around her in a tight hug, and she returns it.
Her eyes dart from me to Dante as we separate. Dom walks over from behind her, tipping his chin up in greeting.
“You know…” Chiara announces, closing the door. “We need to let each other know when we don’t show up on time. We kinda have people that wanna kill us, in case anyone forgot.” She fakes a smile. “So maybe the next time you two wanna fuck each other’s brains out, send your girl a text, ’kay?”
My face instantly flushes.
“I didn’t say we—” I try to finish, but she holds out a hand.
“Girlfriend, please. Your hair and those cheeks gave you away.”
“See?!” I turn to Dante. “I told you I should’ve gone back and fixed my hair!”
“We all fuck, cuz,” Chiara throws in. “I’m just glad he’s doing it so well.”
My cheeks burn. “Can we stop talking about my sex life? Please?”
Dom shakes his head with a deep smirk, and I grow even redder.
“Oh, hey. Now it’s a party!” Enzo bellows with a beer in one hand and Joelle curled around his other.
She’s almost as tall as him with her high-heeled strappy shoes and a tight, knee-length black dress. Her eyes are as blue as the clear sky on a summer day. She runs a hand through the front of her long, wavy strawberry-blonde hair as she separates from Enzo and comes over to me.
“Hey, Raquel.” She reaches for a hug, one I willingly give her. “I’m so glad to see you again.”
“You too.” I smile warmly.
She’s on a whole other level of beautiful. I feel inadequate in her presence, but she seems nice and down-to-earth, so it’s hard to hate her, even if I wanted to.
“Come on, guys. Let’s eat,” Dom says, making his way to Chiara and tightening an arm around her hips. “I’m fucking starving.”
The way he said that as he gazed at her has me thinking he wasn’t simply talking about the food.
Dante is back beside me, kissing my temple.
“I’ve missed you,” he says over the shell of my ear, his breath skirting up my neck and making a hum of desire channel through me.
“You were gone for two seconds,” I whisper as we tread behind the two other couples, heading for the yard.
“Two of the longest seconds of my life.”
Staring up at him with a giggle, I find a huge grin spreading over his face, the kindness seeping through his eyes. The devotion there tethers to my heart, making it heavy with all the things it carries for this man, forever my husband.
Divorcing would’ve been pointless, even after he told me the whole truth. Because in time, I would’ve wanted to marry him all over again. I understand why he did what he did. My forgiveness was easily given.
I sway my body into him, my head finding his shoulder. This is so nice. I can’t believe it’s my life.
We might still have a lot of hurdles to get through, both from my family and from our own inner battles, but like Chiara said to me at the hospital, if we don’t stop to appreciate the things we do have, we’ll let the beautiful moments pass us by. I don’t want to lose sight of that.
Chiara opens the double doors, and we step out.
The air is rich with the scent of barbecue, making my mouth water.
We head down toward the pool, where a large rectangular table with ten chairs waits for us, along with someone in front of a grill.
I can only make out the back of his head with his short black hair peeking out from under a white chef’s hat.
“Who’s that?” I ask Chiara, who takes a seat beside me while Dante pulls out the chair on my other side.
“We hired a caterer,” she whispers, leaning her head toward me. “I didn’t want Dom to be occupied with cooking. I wanted him to have a good time with his brothers.” She purses her lips. “He’s been so on edge with everything going on. This was my way of trying to relax him a bit.”
I glance over at Dom across from us. His foot is bouncing on his knee as he sits next to Enzo, taking a swig of his beer while his eyes dart over each corner of his property. Dante and Enzo talk, laughing away, not noticing their brother’s state.
“I see what you mean.”
“That’s how he is all the time. It worries me, but at the same time, I get it. You know?” She sighs, a line etching between her brows.
My hand lands over hers on her lap, squeezing in reassurance. “Yeah, it’s understandable. I still can’t believe what our fathers did. I don’t think I’ll ever come to grips with them killing a child. Trafficking. I’m disgusted.”
She bows her head. “I know. I wish you had met Matteo. He was the cutest little thing.”
“I wish I had too.”
We pause in silence for a few seconds, as though saying goodbye to the little boy she once knew.
Our men rise and head to pick up our plates, already filled with food. The utensils are already on the table, along with two bottles of wine, both red and white.
Once the guys return, everyone digs in. The clinking of knives and forks is a welcomed sound. Normalcy is something I need badly to help me forget the horror I lived through when Carlito captured me.
Reaching over, I pick up a bottle of the red wine, using the opener to uncork it. Chiara and I are both fans of red, so I pour her a glass, then some for myself.
“Would you like any?” I ask Joelle, who’s been quiet beside Enzo.
“Yes, please.” Her mouth tugs up at the corners as she holds up her glass from across, allowing me to pour some into it.
“A toast, guys,” I say to them all, lifting up my drink. “To family, and to the friends who became family.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Enzo raises his beer bottle, clinking it to my glass, and everyone else starts to do the same, repeating my sentiments.
I take a long sip of the semi-sweet wine. The taste of blackberry infused with a hint of cocoa adds a nice touch.
Chiara’s glass remains untouched as she cuts into her steak, slipping a piece into her mouth. I tilt my head, staring at her with razor focus, finding it a little odd that she hasn’t even tasted a drop.
“Aren’t you drinking?”
My question hangs in the air while Chiara’s flitting gaze avoids an answer, drifting between her food and me. I take a bite of my burger, picking up my drink.
“What? Are you pregnant or something?” I casually throw in with a laugh as I take another mouthful.
But instead of laughing with me, her face grows serious.
Too serious.
The table suddenly goes quiet.
“Babe?” Dom’s eyes swell.
But Chiara avoids him too.
“Oh my God!” I blurt out. “You’re really pregnant?”
“Ugh!” she grunts, throwing her palm over her face. “Yes.”
“What?!” I practically jump off my seat.
Everyone else is silent, their faces clouded with disbelief—including Dom, whose mouth is set to a tight line, his awestruck eyes still glued to her.
“Chiara, you serious?” he finally asks.
Her fingers drift slowly down her face as she turns toward him.
“Are you mad?” Her face knits into a frown. “I’m sorry, I just found ou—”
He gets off his seat so fast, circling his arms around her and lifting her off the chair and into his arms.
“Mad? You thought I’d be mad, baby girl?” His lips meet hers in a quick, deep kiss as her thighs come around his middle. “Do I look mad?”
He grins, kissing her again and pulling her closer while her palms rest on his shoulders.
“God, Chiara,” he whispers as they pull apart an inch. “You know how much I love you?”
“I have some idea.” A wide smile tugs at her lips.
“A little you and me. Can you imagine that?”
The way he says those words, there’s so much endearment in his voice. It’s touching to see how much he loves her so obviously. It spills from his eyes. I’m happy for her, insanely happy that she found him. Again. He lifts her up in the air, kissing her stomach as his eyes flutter to a close.
We all needed this. Something good. Something positive to cling to.
“Shit, should I be picking you up like this?” he flusters as he pulls back, sliding her down onto the ground.