Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
G aetano
The phone ringing pulls me out of a deep sleep. It’s Sandro. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Carina ran. She got spooked. I’m on my way to Chicago right now. I doubt that’s where she is. But I need to start there.”
“Fuck, man. I’m sorry. I’ll handle Vegas. Go get your woman.” I urge him, even if it’s the last thing I want to do. I’m not looking forward to everything being on me once again. But he needs her. It’s clear as can be that he loves the girl.
“Thanks.”
Ending the call, I toss my phone back onto the side table.
“How long do you think he’ll be gone?” Bianca’s arms tighten around me.
Running a hand down her back, the touch of her silky skin goes straight to my cock. “I have no idea. But I’m guessing it will be a few days.”
She presses a kiss to my chest. “Good.”
“That’s what you think. Until he gets back, you aren’t going anywhere.” I tell her as I pull her up out of bed. “Come on, I need to shower and go in to cover him.”
“Oh no, I’m so sad.” She giggles as she follows me.
Gaetano
For three nights, I get her in my bed. Running everything while Sandro’s gone means I only get her at night when I’m fucking exhausted. Yet she doesn’t complain or whine over how little time I get with her. I’m grateful as fuck for it. With her in my bed, I sleep like I haven’t since I was a kid—deep, satisfying sleep.
We’ve just finished making love. I roll over onto my back, with her on my chest and still inside her, the way she loved so much. A fingertip traces over the tattoo of a reaper with a scythe on my chest.
“I want a tattoo. I’m thinking on my hip?—”
“Not happening.” I cut her off before she gets any farther.
“What do you mean, not happening ?” She narrows her eyes as she goes onto her elbows to stare down at me.
“I mean, no one is touching you. Man or woman.”
“Not even for a tattoo? Gaetano, I think you are a tad too possessive.”
I chuckle. “I am.”
“And…”
“And, what?”
“You should be apologetic about it. You’re telling me people can’t touch me. That I can’t even get a tattoo.”
Sending an eyebrow up at her. “Nope. No one touches you. If it’s necessary, fine. A tattoo is not necessary. Your body is perfect as it is. I don’t want you changing it. And don’t pretend you don’t like it.”
The grin that appears on her beautiful face tells me I’m right. “Maybe, that doesn’t make it right.”
“Too bad. You crawled into my bed on your own.” I remind her. “I’m not apologizing for shit.”
Sighing. “Gaetano, you’re very Neanderthal.”
“I am.”
Shaking her head. “I was talking to Bobby. He thinks Sandro is going to be back soon. We have to talk about how we’re going to handle him.”
Fuck. It doesn’t matter I did it, replaced her birth control with duds to knock her ass up. It’s too soon to put everything in place. After I saw how many days there were until her next period, I calculated we likely missed her window to become pregnant this month. Which means another six weeks before we can be sure.
This is a fucked-up plan she should be in on. Hell, I’m trying to get her pregnant without her having a say in what’s going to happen to her body. But what if her knowing it made things worse? I’ve heard half the time a couple couldn’t get pregnant was because of the stress of trying.
We need more time. “Patience.”
“Patience?” She pushes up from me. “I’ve been patient for three fucking years, Gaetano. What are we even doing here? Do you really want me? Or am I just cheaper than paying for it?”
“Jesus, Bianca. Of course, I want you. Quit saying stupid shit like that. It might have been three years, but it’s also been only two weeks. I’m trying to make it so I live through telling him. Why the fuck can’t you give me a little bit of time here?”
“Because you’re not talking to me. All I get is you fucking me at the end of the night. And I get it. I’m aware running Vegas isn’t easy. But you’re unwilling to have a fucking ten minute conversation. Instead, you tell me to be patient . Fuck that, I’ve been patience personified. Until you talk to me, I’m done.”
She’s off the bed in seconds. Yanking on her clothes. I want to argue with her, to force her to stay, but I can’t. Not yet. It’s still too soon.
Once she’s dressed and has her bag in her hand, she stands in the doorway of the bedroom.
“Are you really not going to say anything?” The pain in her eyes is more than I can bear.
All I have is one word for her. “Patience.”
Shaking her head, she slams the bedroom door behind her, then seconds later, the front door.
Fucking hell.
Gaetano
The phone call I get around nine should be good news. Sandro is due back tomorrow with the girl. It’s not. I haven’t slept since Bianca stormed out two days ago.
Sandro greets me with. “You look like shit.”
Asshole. I wasn’t going to say anything, but he earned it. “You too. Problem with the missus?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t. You’re watching my back. Go home and get some sleep.”
No. I shake my head right back. “I can’t sleep, and I can’t stand another night staring at the ceiling.”
“What the hell? Smoke a bowl and get some sleep.” He orders me.
I sigh. The last thing I want is to be in bed staring at the ceiling again. It’s clear he’s not asking me. “Fuck. Fine.” I slam out of his office.
Bianca
“I think you should tell him. The more I think about it, he has to have figured out a pregnancy will save you both. Tell him it was by accident. You thought Plan B would work, then you were going to go on birth control, but the more you thought about it—the better it would be for both of you.”
My stomach drops. “I can’t tell him now. Maybe if I had told him right at the beginning, he wouldn’t want to wring my neck. But if I tell him now, he’s going to be so pissed. Mafia men do not take well to having their hand forced in anything. If I’m lucky, he’ll just spank my ass. More than likely, he’ll drop my ass and tell me to figure it out on my own.”
Kitty gasps. “No fucking way. Would he really drop you?”
“With Gaetano, there’s no way to be sure. But I wouldn’t bet against him doing it.” My phone alerts with a text from Bobby. I check it. “Damn it. I need to get home to greet the mafia princess. Ugh, I can’t stand her already.”
“Why?”
Eyes wide at the question, I can’t help wondering if she’s actually been listening. “Because she is doing nothing but bringing shame to my brother. She ran away, Kitty. I mean, yeah, he fixed it to sound so romantic that he heard rumors of Carlo going back on their marriage. Since they loved each other so much, they eloped and took off for a brief honeymoon. Except that’s not the truth, and the truth getting out means he won’t have the respect he deserves, all because he can’t handle a twenty-two-year-old woman. If he can’t handle his woman, how is he going to handle running this city? It’s going to be what is thought. If they think that, they might think they could take over or steal business from us. Which means a war could be started because of her.”
Her mouth drops. “Holy crap, you’re completely serious.”
My eyebrows go up. “I’m deadly serious. She has to know all of that. That she left my brother looking like a fool to even agree to marry her. Her reputation in the Outfit is well-known as a weird chick. No one believes he wants to marry her for her. But for her to run on him… Honestly, there’s nothing she could say to make what she did okay.”
“That sucks. Are you going to move out?”
I shrug. “I probably should. There’s no way I’m going to be able to hide how I feel about her. If Sandro catches my attitude, he’ll kick me out. It sucks because I hardly see him the way things are now—and I live with him. Once I move out, I’ll be lucky to see him for a meal once a month.”
“Before you do it, check your trust fund so you know what you can afford. Then budget for twenty percent to still be sitting there at the end of the month so you aren’t house poor.”
“How do you know about my trust? I don’t think I have money in it for a house. I’m pretty sure it’s just for my schooling.”
She rolls her eyes. “Because that’s what we have money. Trust funds that pay for our lives. But of course, our parents control every bit of it, and there are all these rules to control us. Like my trust will pay out five thousand a month, but only if I have either a four-year degree or have worked somewhere for four years with money that goes up the more you bank time, but if you don’t have those things, then you get barely enough to pay bills and rent.”
“So Sandro’s been hiding it from me?”
A shoulder lifts. “I doubt he meant to. He’s always taken care of you, so what difference did it make? Like he’d probably give you a good amount for rent or tell you right then and there how much you get, depending on all the rules.”
The idea of Sandro hiding a trust fund has me battling my temper. Although Kitty doubted Sandro hid it from me, I’m not so sure. The basic thing of mafia life, life in general, is that knowledge is power. Knowledge helped you figure out your moves, your options.
I’m not in the best mood when I get back to the penthouse. So, of course, she’s the first thing I see when I get home.
Too bad she really fucked Sandro over, because she seems kind of cool. Except I can’t forget that she ran out on my brother.
Rolling my eyes at her. “Of course, you have a body like a stripper. Sandro makes more sense now.”
“Excuse you.” She spits out at me.
“Excuse me? Oh no, Sandro won’t like that. If I tell him you were rude to me?—”
“Who the hell are you?”
“I’m Bianca, his sister.” The recognition and fear is the only thing that makes me feel good. For now, she believes I’m as important to Sandro as I once was—until she came. “Exactly. Watch yourself. If I tell Sandro, he will not be pleased. You’re the wife, but I’m his family. I’m the one he loves, not you. He’s stuck with you. He doesn’t want you.”
Not able to withstand how hurt she seems, I dismiss her and go into my room and slam the door.
I’m not invited to give my input on the changes in the penthouse. A reminder that what I want or think doesn’t matter. I’m here because they have to accept it, not because my own brother wants me here. So I tell her the wallpaper is ugly, even if it adds warmth to the space it needs.
When I go into the kitchen to make coffee, I find the cabinet for tea and mugs filled to the brim with so many teas and mugs that a person could open a store with them. Oh, that one is neat. I pull it down, and it catches on the one beside it. The second one falls to the floor and shatters, scaring the shit out of me and causing me to drop the one I wanted to look at. Fuck.
I hear her come running.
“Are you okay?” Her eyes are wide with concern.
“Oops, sorry.” I shrug as I look down at the broken mugs. “It was an accident.” Before I break down and apologize and beg her to forgive me, I go back into my room and get back into bed.
I’m spending too much time in bed. I know it, but I can’t seem to stay out of it. There has been no call or text from Gaetano, not a fucking thing.
Everything in me is aching as one day bleeds into the next without a word from him. Patience. God, it was so much bullshit. Why couldn’t he talk to me and tell me a damn thing?
One week drifts by in a haze. I try to change up my days, one in front of the pool, the next day in front of the television, a day out meeting with Kitty, then begin the routine all over again.
Sad, I roll out of bed and get dressed to go out. Today is a go see Kitty day. The only problem was that she was busy with her mom. Whatever, I can go to the bookstore. What I can’t do is spend the day inside again.
I decide to go with a pretty, blue shift dress. Running my hand over my stomach, I wonder if it worked. I don’t feel any different. I kind of thought I would. Sighing, I grab my purse and head out of the penthouse.
The parking garage is nearly empty when I step out of the elevator. Pushing the button to unlock my SUV and remind me where I parked it. Shit, I could have sworn I parked it closer to the door. Now, somehow, it’s in the corner farthest away. But I do like corners, I don’t like cars on all sides of me. Besides, my memory is shot; it feels like I can’t remember what I did yesterday.
At my SUV, I go to open it when suddenly a big body is behind me, pushing up against me at the same time, one hand covers my mouth, and an arm is around my waist, holding me still. I inhale, trying to scream. Immediately, from his scent, I know it’s Gaetano. Fucker. I begin fighting him, trying to kick out against my car.
“Damn it, it’s me, Bianca.”
I don’t slow down. Instead, I begin trying harder.
“Fuck, okay, I get your mad. Stop fucking fighting.” He growls from low in his chest. A growl I can feel all the way to the heart of me.
He’s got me in the backseat, handling me like I weigh nothing. I try to slap him, but he captures my hand in his and yanks me up against him. His kiss is punishing, and I hate the way I melt in him. Seven days without him have been hell, and I’m finally allowed back into heaven.
I’m lost in his kiss. Vaguely, I’m aware he’s undoing his pants. I’m still shocked when seconds after he lifts his ass off the seat to push his pants down, he sweeps me up and over him. He tries to rip my panties off, but they don’t want to tear. With a curse, he tears them to the side.
“How wet are you, angel?” He mutters as two fingers find me soaking wet. “That’s it. You are perfect for me, angel. Absolutely perfect.” His mouth claims mine. “Fuck me. You know what to do.” Is an order.
Desperate for him, I ride him the way he’s taught me. “Give me a tit. Let me see you.”
He pulls down the zip in the back of my dress and manages to get my bra off. I sink all the way to where skin meets skin. We both hiss at the feel of him where he belongs. Capturing a tight nipple and sucking, sends me off the deep end for the need to come.
Within minutes, I’m on the edge of coming. Until his ringtone sounds loud, it’s Sandro.
“Don’t stop and don’t make a fucking sound.” He hisses low as he presses the button connecting the call.
“Where the hell did you go?” Sandro comes through loud and clear.
This bastard. Don’t stop, but don’t make a sound. Let’s see if he can go without making a sound.
Opening my mouth wide, I bite into his shoulder to muffle any noise I might make. Then I come down hard on his cock, squeezing him tightly as I do.
A small cough comes out of him. “Sorry, you caught me. I was starving but wanted something a little different. I’m on my way back now.”
I’m grinding on him, then lifting off him before coming back down hard with the tight squeeze at the end. He’s talking, I hear him, yet I don’t. All my focus is on the orgasm just out of reach.
Yes, yes, god yes. I hit my climax and explode all over again into tiny pieces. Seconds later, I feel Gaetano coming—filling me and making me whole again.
While I’m still gasping for air, Gaetano lifts me off him and begins tugging his pants on. “Are you serious?”
“I’m sorry. This isn’t what I planned. I only wanted to see you again and…” He sighs. “I didn’t plan this.”
“Were you going to talk to me?” I demand. “Because that’s the only thing I want from you.”
Shaking his head, he steps out of the SUV and closes the door.
I’m going to kill him. Bobby will give me a gun.