4. Evelyn
Chapter 4
Evelyn
Four Weeks Later
“ H ow is she?” Massimo asked the doctor, his silver eyes dark with worry.
“I feel fine,” I promised, drawn to ease his concern. “I haven’t felt so much as a twinge of pain for days.”
“That’s good,” the doctor approved before turning his attention to Massimo. “She’s made a full recovery. She can return to a normal routine.”
I cleared my throat, not caring for how he was addressing Massimo and not me. “Like I said, I feel fine,” I reiterated coolly.
The doctor simply nodded. “I’m satisfied that there won’t be any lasting damage. Initially, I was concerned about potential fertility issues, but everything has healed nicely. It would be wise to check with your own physician when you get home if you want to do further tests for peace of mind.”
My brain tripped over the thought. I’d been shot on my right side, low toward my hip. I’d been informed that the bullet had missed my major organs, but I hadn’t thought about my fertility being impacted.
Fear pulsed through me at the prospect that I might not be able to have a family with Massimo.
Did I want to have Massimo’s baby? I’d always wanted a child of my own, someone to love unconditionally, the way I’d never been loved.
I took a quick breath and pushed the thought away. It was far too soon to contemplate starting a family with him, no matter how tempting the idea was. Something like yearning tugged at my heart.
I leaned into his chest, wrapping my arms around him so that I could feel his heartbeat beneath my ear. It was the most reassuring sound in the world.
The doctor excused himself discretely, leaving us alone in the bedroom. For a moment, I expected Massimo to sweep me up in a fierce, desperate kiss.
But his phone chimed, shattering the tender moment.
He checked the message and muttered a low curse.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, worry nipping at me.
He stroked my hair. “No, dolcezza. We’re about to have a visitor.”
Fifteen minutes later, Carmen beamed at me as she settled into the plush armchair across from the couch where we were seated.
“It’s so good to see you, Evelyn. Massimo has been keeping you well guarded.” She shot him an exaggerated pout. “He wouldn’t let me visit until today.”
He draped his strong arm over me and tucked me close to his side. I leaned into him, sighing in contentment.
“He’s been taking good care of me,” I told the cartel queen. “I’m all better now.”
He dropped a kiss on the top of my head. “You still need to be careful with yourself, farfallina .”
I grasped his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “The doctor says I’m fine,” I reminded him. “Totally healed up.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Carmen said with genuine warmth. “Stefano and I have been very worried with you two shut up in here. We weren’t sure if you were on your deathbed since Massimo wouldn’t let anyone in to see you.”
Another exaggeration and a slight jab at my dark protector. I was sure that the doctor would’ve kept her informed on my progress; she was his boss. She clearly wasn’t pleased that Massimo had been keeping her locked out of a suite in her own home.
But she had allowed us privacy, so she must’ve sensed that fighting with him would accomplish nothing except upsetting me. Carmen was shrewd as well as caring. She did feel concern for me and possibly something like friendship, but she knew how to navigate tense situations with dangerous men.
“I hope you haven’t been too bored,” she drawled, another pointed remark.
“Not at all.” I defended Massimo. “He’s been teaching me Italian. Now, I’ll be ready to speak the language when we go to Naples.”
Her eyes cut to him. “Are you so keen to go soon?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw for half a second, but he managed a genial smile. “Our business is concluded. Gian and Enzo sent the payment from our end weeks ago. We can all start making money now. It’s time for me to go home and oversee the final aspects of our deal.”
Her dark brows lifted. “And what about your other business here in Mexico City? I was under the impression that it was unfinished.”
I tensed, not caring for their conversation about their criminal empires. Even though I’d accepted this part of Massimo’s life, I didn’t like hearing the details.
His thumb traced soothing circles on my upper arm, but he kept his glinting gaze fixed on Carmen. “I haven’t forgotten about that. I intend to see the job through, but I need to get Evelyn safely to Naples first. I’ll come back to tie up the loose end as soon as she’s settled.”
“What? No,” I protested. I couldn’t bear to be parted from him. My addiction to him should scare me, but I was too lost in our connection to care. And the prospect of being alone in Naples with his mafia associates unnerved me. “I want to stay with you.”
Carmen studied my panicked features. Her crimson-painted lips thinned to a slash as she considered me. Then her sharp gaze cut back to Massimo.
“Go with Evelyn. Stefano and I will handle Crawford.”
My heart skipped a beat. George. My ex-fiancé was the loose end they were discussing. Massimo and Duarte wanted him dead. The prospect made my stomach churn.
Even though I knew I wouldn’t be safe as long as George was alive, having him killed disturbed me. Would I ever become accustomed to this violent world where justice and retribution were dealt out in blood?
“I made a promise,” Massimo countered, his thumb still stroking my arm. “I intend to keep it.”
Carmen dismissed the notion with a flick of her manicured fingers. “And I’m releasing you from that promise. Besides, Stefano will prefer to handle this personally after the brazen attack on our home. Our new business venture is too important for you to linger here.”
“Evelyn won’t be safe until I end Crawford.”
I shifted against him, but he kept his attention fixed on Carmen. His arm tightened around me slightly, a reassuring embrace. He wouldn’t apologize for his intention to eliminate George as a threat, and I didn’t expect him to. I understood him well enough now to know that he would do anything to protect me. I had to trust in him if we were going to be together.
“I am more than capable of defending my own territory,” Carmen said coolly. “Crawford is a threat. I do not tolerate threats.” She tipped her chin in my direction. “Take Evelyn home. I’ll call you when it’s done.”
Home. She was talking about Italy. Naples would be my home now.
My belly fluttered, equal parts trepidation and excitement. I would start a new life with Massimo, but I was also entering the unknown. I would have to rely on him to introduce me to his friends, who were all likely to be criminals. But I knew none of them would ever harm me. I belonged to Massimo.
I leaned into him, conveying my trust and acceptance. I would never make him feel ashamed of who he was. Life had been cruel to him, and he’d done what was necessary to survive.
I’m not a good man. The memory of his anguished words in the wake of his nightmare made my heart squeeze. Massimo might lead a dangerous life, but he wasn’t evil. I would remind him of that every day.
“I’ll leave you two alone to make plans for your trip,” Carmen announced, the matter handled. “I can arrange an overnight flight for you tonight. Will you be ready by then?”
“Yes,” Massimo replied. “Thank you, Carmen. I owe you a debt.”
She gave an imperious wave of her hand again. “We’re friends, Massimo. You don’t owe me anything.”
She sounded like she meant it. Stefano was cold and calculating, but his wife was softer, if no less formidable.
“Take care, Evelyn.” She offered me a warm smile. “Massimo will give you my number, and you can reach out to me at any time.”
“Thank you.” My throat was strangely tight.
Friends were a rarity in my life. I’d always kept myself emotionally isolated because social situations were safer that way; I couldn’t be hurt by anyone’s indifference if I didn’t allow myself to become attached to them. George had been the one exception, and even then, I’d never allowed myself to rely on him. I’d supported him , not the other way around. It hadn’t been reciprocal.
A whole new world was opening up before me, and it was all because of Massimo. He’d stormed into my life and shown me that I could be vulnerable. He’d proven to me that he would protect me in every way, including shielding my heart.
Carmen said her goodbye to Massimo too, and then she swept out of the suite, giving us privacy.
“Pick out what clothes you want to take with you,” Massimo encouraged, guiding me toward the bedroom. “We can buy more when you get to Naples. I’ll take you shopping.”
My brows lifted. “You’d go shopping with me?”
His lips curved in a wicked smirk. “I insist. I want to see you try everything on. I like buying pretty things for you.”
My cheeks heated, and I barely managed to shrug off my budding lust. “What you’ve bought for me while we’ve been staying here in Mexico City is more than enough. I’ll just pack it all.”
His dark brows drew together in warning. “I thought we had agreed that you would let me spoil you.”
Unease stirred in my belly, an echo of lifelong distrust. “When did I agree to that? I love the beautiful clothes that you’ve bought for me, and I’m grateful for them, but I don’t need more. I’m usually very reserved in my style choices, Massimo. This isn’t me.”
His jaw firmed, and he tipped his chin back in challenge. “Why not? Why can’t it be you? Silks and jewels suit you, farfallina . My woman deserves the finer things in life. You will have every pretty little thing you desire. Nothing is out of reach for us.”
Us. My heart tugged toward his, as though we were connected by an invisible tether.
I closed the short distance between us and wrapped my arms around him, tucking my body close to his. He immediately returned my embrace, both of us craving constant contact.
“Is this still about your stepfather?” he rumbled, a slight edge to the question. I knew the anger was directed at the cruel, callous man who’d raised me. “You said he made you feel like you owed him for providing you with necessities. I will never treat you that way. I swear.”
“I know,” I promised. I didn’t want him to think I doubted his goodness and sincerity. “But it’s more than that.” The confession was drawn from a place so deep in my soul that I hadn’t even consciously known it was lurking at the core of me. “I told you about how my real dad left when I was four,” I began. “I should hate him for that, but the few memories I have of him are good.
“One day—about six months before he left—I said I was sick because I wanted to spend time with him. He must’ve known I wasn’t actually sick, but he called out from work and spent the day with me. He took me out for pancakes, and then we went to the zoo. He bought me a stuffed giraffe. I slept with it until I was twelve. My mom found out that I’d kept something he’d given to me, and she threw it away. I felt like she was destroying a part of me, even though I’d thought about burning the thing myself a thousand times.”
I shook my head, as though I could toss away the pain of the memories. “Before he abandoned us, I thought he loved me. He doted on me and made me feel special. Like I was the center of his world.”
I realized that deep down, I felt unworthy of Massimo’s lavish affections because I feared that they wouldn’t last. I was terrified of trusting in him only to be abandoned again.
Massimo’s big hand cradled my nape, his thick fingers sliding into my hair to hold me firmly. His silver eyes flashed with a fervent light as he stared down at me, as though he was peering straight into my damaged soul.
“I will never abandon you, Evelyn.”
The promise pierced my heart, a painfully sweet pledge. Believing him hurt because I had to rip down a lifetime of boundaries, walls I’d put up to protect myself.
But for him, I would make myself vulnerable. I chose to trust in him.
A giddy sensation soared through me, like I’d just jumped off a cliff and was in freefall. I felt wild and a bit reckless, but I knew Massimo would keep me safe from harm. The burden of holding up those walls for so many years dropped away, and I felt almost weightless.
I bracketed his beautiful face with both hands, holding him like he was my own personal treasure. “Thank you.”
“There’s nothing to thank me for. I’m keeping you because I’m a selfish bastard, and I refuse to let you go. If I were a good man, I’d send you back to America. But it’s too late for that now. There’s no going back.”
He said it like it was something ominous, but I wasn’t afraid. And I would prove that to him every day.
“You’re my good man,” I purred, going up onto my toes to press a tender kiss against the grim slash of his lips. “I can’t wait to start our lives together in Naples. I can’t wait to make it my home too.”
I’d been searching for a sense of home ever since my dad had walked out on me, and my simple childhood sense of security had been shattered. I certainly hadn’t felt at home in my stepfather’s house, and I’d only known further, more insidious torment during my years with George.
I’d never been to Italy, and I barely knew the language, but I felt sure that as long as I was with Massimo, I would find a home. We would make one together.
He looked at me with reverence, his eyes shining with awe. “You are too good for me, dolcezza. So sweet and perfect.”
My cheeks flushed with pleasure at his words, and the rest of my body heated for him too. He hadn’t touched me sexually since I’d been shot, and I’d become steadily needier as the days dragged on.
“I need you, Massimo. Please.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” His features were tight with his own hunger, a desperate longing that matched my own.
“You won’t.” I’d never been surer of anything in my life. “You would never hurt me. I trust you. And right now, I need you to touch me.” I boldly grasped his hand and dragged it toward my sex. “I’m aching for you.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, shocked at my brazen behavior. He pressed his palm against my clit, and I bucked at the first jolt of pleasure after weeks of long denial.
“How can I leave you aching, my sweet girl?” His fingers dipped between my thighs, so that he grasped my pussy in a proprietary hold. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes,” I moaned, dropping quick, desperate kisses along his jaw until I nipped at the shell of his ear with a ragged whisper. “Please, Massimo.”
He released a low hum that vibrated through my chest and down to my core, making me shudder with mounting desire. “You’ll have to be very good for me, farfallina. But you always are. You love being my good girl, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I agreed again, my voice breathy with lust. “I’m your good girl.”
He growled his satisfaction and grazed his teeth down my throat, tracing the line of my vulnerable artery. I expected a possessive bite on my shoulder, but he pressed a tender kiss there instead, flicking his tongue over my sensitized skin. Every inch of my body came alive for him, sparks dancing along my heated flesh.
I melted into him, overwhelmed by the rush of carnal sensation. It’d been so long since he’d touched me like this that the sudden onslaught of pleasure was intense enough to make my knees weak. It was almost as though I was experiencing his masterful touch for the first time, our chemistry shockingly potent.
He took his time with me, lavishing me with deep kisses as he slowly eased the lightweight white robe from my shoulders, then stripped off my silky nightgown. When I was naked before him, my body trembled with the force of my desire, and I clung to his corded arms for support.
He stepped toward me, never breaking contact as he guided me toward the bed. He settled me down on the center of the mattress, ensuring my comfort.
I loved when he handled me with harsh, primal passion, but this gentle, careful seduction was sweet enough to make my eyes sting even as my body sang for him.
He brushed one more kiss over my forehead and commanded, “Stay.”
I nodded, and he left me briefly to retrieve three lengths of rope from the chest of drawers. My tongue darted out to wet my lips, my body primed for his perverse games. He hadn’t bound me in weeks, and I longed to feel his ropes enfolding me once again, restraining me in a secure embrace.
“I’m going to make sure you stay still and don’t strain yourself,” he told me as he grasped my ankle and wrapped the rope around it.
I considered protesting again and insisting that I was all healed up, but I knew he needed it to be this way between us. He had to feel thoroughly in control because he’d had to watch me bleed in his arms. Massimo was a powerful man, and the sense of helplessness to save me must’ve tormented him.
But he’d taken such good care of me while I healed. I would prove to him how much that meant to me by allowing him to bind me without protest. This seduction would be on his terms, and that was how I liked it too. We were perfectly matched, bonded by mutual need and deviant desires.
“I trust you,” I promised as he wound the rope around my thigh, bending my knee so that my heel touched the back of my leg.
He bound me in that position, wrapping the rope around my shin to secure me in place. He repeated the process on my other leg. When he was satisfied that my legs were thoroughly immobilized, he grasped my waist and lifted me, positioning me so that I was on my knees before him.
The ropes twisted and sank deeper into my flesh, the tight binding biting into me just hard enough to make me keenly aware of my helplessness to resist anything he wanted to do to me. My legs were spread wide, my swollen sex on lewd display. Desire wet my lower lips, my body primed for him.
He wasn’t finished restraining me. The third length of rope encircled my wrists, capturing them so that they pressed together. Once they were securely bound, he tugged on the length, drawing my arms over my head and back down. My elbows bent, and my hands touched my hair at my nape. The position forced my back to arch, offering my breasts to him.
He quickly lashed the rope around my chest, securing my wrists behind my head and trapping me in the vulnerable position.
His full lips tilted in a satisfied smirk, and his eyes darkened with lust. He cupped my breasts, as though he was learning the weight and shape of them all over again. My head dropped back on a low moan, and a warm wave of pleasure rolled through me, emanating from his heated touch.
“ Bellissima. ” His voice was rough with reverence, and he rubbed his calloused fingers over my peaked nipples.
I cried out at the shock of bliss that sparkled in tingling lines from my hard buds to my clit. It pulsed in time with my heartbeat, and my inner muscles contracted, aching to be filled.
“Please,” I panted. “Please…”
“Say my name when you beg.” The order rumbled through me, drawing a shiver to the surface of my skin.
“Please, Massimo.” My plea left me on a desperate whimper as he continued to toy with my breasts, stimulating me without touching me where I needed it most.
“Tell me what you want. I want to hear the filthy words on these sweet lips.” He brushed his thumb over my lips, and I licked him, swirling my tongue around his thumb the way I would worship his cock.
He hissed in a sharp breath. “Don’t tease me, farfallina ,” he warned.
The dark edge to his words sent a thrill racing through my body, and I submitted to his will.
“Please touch my pussy, Massimo. Let me come. I need you.”
“Such a good girl.” His praise rolled down my spine like warm honey, pooling low in my belly. “You’re doing so well, dolcezza. ” He kissed my forehead, my lips, my neck, and down to the hollow between my collarbones.
I tipped my head back as much as I was able, welcoming him to take more.
“So beautiful in my ropes,” he murmured just before his tongue flicked my sensitive nipple.
I cried out at the burst of ecstasy that rocked my body, and his strong arm braced around my waist, caging me in a firm embrace to hold me still.
“Don’t struggle,” he cooed, his lips teasing my nipple. “You’re doing so well.”
I whined in primal need, but I forced myself to remain as still as possible. My instincts told me to writhe and buck against him, seeking more stimulation. But I was caged by his will as firmly as by his ropes. I shook with the effort of holding my most animal urges in check, but I managed to obey him. Pleasing him was the only thing that mattered, my entire body and mind completely devoted to him.
He tormented my breasts with his teeth and tongue, nipping at me with sharp little jolts of pain, quickly soothed away by warm pleasure. One arm remained firmly around my waist while his other hand skimmed down my belly, his thick fingers teasing just above my throbbing clit.
I panted his name and pleaded with him in a litany, a carnal prayer to my beautiful god. My entire world centered on him and the pleasure he wrung from my body, playing me like his favorite instrument.
When he finally touched my clit with the barest brush of his thumb, I cried out and arched into him.
He shushed me gently, a quiet rebuke for my sudden jolting movement. I whimpered and went still, struggling to obey when my entire body was crying out for release.
His low chuckle shuddered through me, his arrogant amusement at my predicament only stoking my need for him as I sank deeper into his control.
As I panted and pleaded with him, he told me how well I was doing, how good I was, how much I pleased him. Each warm affirmation went straight to my head, intoxicating. I felt drunk on his praise, his power over me. My body went taut, and my skin grew slick with the effort of remaining still for him.
“Good girl.” Two fingers parted my slick, swollen folds, easing into me with aching care.
My eyes stung at the overwhelming sense of being cherished and filled, his touch both reverent and merciful. He circled my clit with his thumb and crooked his fingertips against the sensitive spot inside me. At the same time, he sucked on my nipple, grazing it with his teeth.
I came apart on a scream, and his restraining arm tightened around me to hold me firmly through my orgasm. Ecstasy wracked my trembling body, shuddering through me with relentless force. I moaned his name and pressed my forehead into his thick black curls, leaning into his strength, relying on him to keep me still when I was spiraling out of control.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured against my chest. “Let go, farfallina. ”
He sucked on my other nipple and continued to stimulate my sex, coaxing more pleasure from my trembling body.
I half-sobbed his name, melting into him and trusting him to hold me while I allowed the bliss to consume me. He continued to stimulate me until my clit became overly sensitive, a light sting of discomfort edging into my pleasure.
When I sucked in a shuddering breath, he withdrew his hand, having mercy on me.
His silver eyes locked on mine, and he lifted his fingers to his full lips. He kept me captive in his lust-darkened stare as he licked at my slick desire that coated his hand. He growled his appreciation and sucked his fingers clean, his remarkable eyes closing in a brief moment of his own bliss.
He claimed my mouth in a devastating kiss, and I tasted myself on his tongue. The act was purely primal, a forceful demonstration of how he’d made me come undone for him. I was wanton in my desire for this beautiful man, my dark savior, and I didn’t feel so much as a shred of shame.
The rope shifted around my chest, tugging at my wrists. He was untying me. I relaxed against him, melting as the tight embrace of the ropes loosened, and only his strong arms supported me.
He laid back on the pillows, arranging me over his chest so that my head rested over his heart. The steady beat calmed me, but I glanced up at him in confusion.
“What about you?” My words were slow and slightly lust-drunk.
He tenderly stroked my hair. “Not yet, dolcezza. All I want is to take care of you. That’s enough to satisfy me. I’m so proud of you. You were so good for me.”
I flushed and tucked my face against him, snuggling into his warmth. I breathed in his unique scent of leather and amber, sinking into him.
Somehow, this dangerous, possessive, perfect man was utterly devoted to me. Massimo was all mine, and I’d never been happier in my entire life.