36. Zara
ZARA
In the darkest hours, faith is the only thing that strengthens us.
Vian bleeding out before me, his blood pooling under my palms, shattered me. I knew then, with absolute certainty, I’d be lost without him.
This man is my life. My past, present, and future.
His love brought me back to him, and my love brought him back to me.
I dare everyone to steal my happiness from me.
We’re in the maternity ward of the hospital, plastered to an examination table. The OB-GYN applies transparent gel, and I squeeze Vian’s hand, giddy to see our baby.
My husband sits beside me in a wheelchair, which was a feat to achieve. It was that or miss the chance to hear and see our little wonder for the first time. He gave in, making me fall even harder in love with him.
He interlaces our fingers as she moves the wand along my lower belly. I suck in a breath the moment I hear a constant, loud rhythm.
“That’s your baby’s heartbeat,” she says, and my heart speeds up as if aligning with my baby’s.
I see a tiny black dot, and she points at it. “And that’s your baby.”
I’ve cried so many times during the past few days, but these tears are happy ones, filled with awe and a love so big I didn’t think I could feel.
I glance at my husband, who stares completely riveted at the image before our eyes lock and I notice his watery gaze.
“Thank you,” he says, voice fraught with deep gratitude and endless adoration.
Two simple words to encompass the depth of our feelings, every obstacle we crossed, all the hurt we overcame. It sounds like a joke, but those words signify a new beginning.
The world disappears while ours grows between us.
After returning to his private hospital room, he states, “Tomorrow, we’re going home.”
There’s no point fighting with him.
The doctor and I have a secret understanding. It’s a white lie, but I ignore the pinch of guilt for my husband’s well-being. He could have been discharged today, but the doctor sought a hundred percent assurance. I think he knows whose life he saved, and he wants to keep it that way.
The month was also exaggerated, but knowing my husband, he won’t possess that much patience, so anything under that timeframe will be a success.
I know why he’s eager to return: to find the man responsible, but Conrad is handling that. With no support on his side, Paolo fled like the damn rat he is.
I am also looking forward to going home—to the mansion. Not that the penthouse feels any less homey, but it doesn’t hold the same meaning.
We spend the rest of the day together—chatting, sharing soft smiles, exchanging gentle touches and ardent kisses here and there—then go to bed looking at our baby’s first picture.
The next day, Conrad waits to pick us up after my husband gets discharged. Several of his men scatter around, four black SUVs forming a line. The transition is going smoothly so far as we merge our businesses.
My hand lies in his, just like it should be, driving away to our new beginning.
Arriving at the mansion, I smile softly, looking up at him. “I was jealous.”
He snakes his arms around my waist and lets me process my thoughts by giving me his silent support.
“It was unfair of me to accuse you of betraying me. It was a delicate situation. I’m sure keeping your feelings contained, spinning a new love story with the one you’ve always loved, and navigating your business wasn’t easy.
” I drag in a lungful of air to fortify myself.
“I disregarded your slips. Maybe part of me wanted to test your love. Maybe it was self-preservation.” I shrug, the reason no longer important, and continue, “What I know for sure is that we’re unavoidable, my love.
” I lift my palm to his chest, feeling his heart beat strongly under my touch.
“I seek to be more than the love of your life, your wife, and the mother of your children, but your lifelong partner in everything.”
He cups my cheeks and lowers his forehead onto mine, brushing his lips on mine. “You are all that and so much more. You’re my everything. You are everything.”
“Let’s see how you feel after changing diapers and going through days like a zombie. And all because you love to come inside me. One second of bliss, a lifetime of responsibility.”
He groans low, adjusting in his pants. “Worth it to have souvenirs of the best of times.”
“You’re crazy.”
“About you. No secret.”
Love fills every nook and cranny of my being, and I could levitate at any moment now.
I close my eyes for a second, wanting to preserve this moment of complete serenity. “Never stop loving me like you do,” I gulp, emotions lodging in my throat and making it hard to form words. I wouldn’t survive it.
Our souls are intertwined.
Our lives are interconnected.
There’s no Zara without Vian and no Vian without Zara. Our relationship is symbiotic; we thrive together or wither apart. It’s just how it is.
We can’t change it. It’s the unwritten order of our existence.
He covers my hand on his heart, his bigger one cradling mine. “Never, mi sol. I would rather fade into oblivion than forget you. Loving you is what I am supposed to do.”
I beam, staring into his eyes, where I see my entire life, happiness sparking fireworks inside me and lighting up my chest. “You owe me one more day,” I whisper, wanting to close the door in reality’s face.
“You have all my days and beyond.”
We spend the next hours with me dodging his attempts at seducing me, which demands all my strength.
His frustration only emboldens me; having so much power over this man is a heady experience.
We make plans, from our organizations coming together, where we’ll co-lead, to picking out a color for the nursery.
Even though I know it’s going to be a boy, we decide on yellow walls, sunny and warm.
Our world is dark, but our love shines brighter.
It’s Friday night, and we’re at the penthouse. My husband insisted our home is sacred, reserved just for us. Rafe and Tristan will come over for their poker game, and Noemi and I will meet for girls’ night.
Almost losing him made us even closer. We’re family.
She forgave me.
I forgave her.
Life is too short to dwell on mistakes, especially those born from good intentions.
Music plays in the background as we chill on the sofa.
“Don’t go,” he whines, but even that sound pouring from his mouth is sexy. My man could recite me the alphabet and I would get hot and bothered.
I pout, palming his chest. “It’s only a few hours.”
Anything more would be a stretch, particularly since we just reconnected. No more secrets, no more of the past sneaking in and tearing us apart.
I have thought about what to give the man who already has everything—and that’s me, according to him. I can’t wait to reveal my gift.
He had it worse. While I lingered in numbness, he went through his days knowing I was just out of reach.
While it’s not a competition, he remained loyal to me. He would have loved me from the shadows and made sure I was thriving.
He grips my waist, pulling me down onto him and eliciting a squeal from me.
“You’re still healing,” I remind him, just as much as I remind myself, needing him madly and just as fiercely.
“I’m healed all right. The only thing that hurts is my fucking cock,” he groans, pressing me deeper onto his steel-hard length, sending a delicious shiver down my back.
I burst into laughter. He has a dramatic streak that amuses me like nothing else.
Locking my arms around his neck, I play with the ends of his hair, savoring the serenity of the moment. “You know what the doctor said…”
“What does he know,” he grumbles.
It takes everything in me to scold my features into neutral. “Ten years of school. Constantly learning. The man saved you.”
“Yeah, whatever, but now you’re killing me by not giving me access to my pussy.” He catches my lower lip between his teeth and nips it, gliding his tongue across the afflicted skin.
A flirtatious smile teases my lips, and I tilt my head, loving to play with danger because he makes it burn so good. “Yours, huh?”
Instantly, the playfulness disappears, and he curls his hand around my throat, turning my insides combustible. One touch would light the match, and I’d burn up in the flames of passion.
“Whose are you?”
“You know the answer,” I murmur.
“Tell me again. I want to hear it every day for the rest of my life.”
While we’re confident in our love, the years apart and everything that happened affected us. I am certain that together we’ll heal
I brush my nose against his, whispering above his lips. “Yours. A lifetime yours.”
“Not fucking enough.”
He drags me to his mouth by the nape of my neck, kissing me with so much ardor it steals the breath from my lungs while he pours something else into them—nectar, the elixir of gods—making me feel immortal.
They could arrive any moment, but I am too dazed to care as I lean on his muscular body, my safe cocoon.
“I’ll change my name to just Zara Giancana.”
His eyes soften, his facial expression one of pure bliss. “You don’t have to,” he says reverently, rubbing his thumb along my chin.
His words only strengthen my decision.
“I’m your wife. Your woman. You’re my husband. My man. The one I trust completely. The only one making me feel safe. The one I will love and spend the rest of my life with.”
His love for me will never cease to ground and lift me up in equal measure––silent and lethal occasionally and loud and unbending most of the time.
I palm his chest, his heart responding to my touch by pumping faster. “This is my gift to you.”
“I already have all I’ve ever wished for,” he says contentedly.
But changing my name symbolizes that I believe him. He didn’t drag my father from the pedestal I put him on; my father’s actions ensured that.
We had a lot of talks about the past, flitting through everything. One night I asked him to recount our story, and I fell asleep with a dreamy smile stitched on my face. I don’t need to have my memories restored to verify the veracity of his words. I simply want to share them with him.