Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Valentina
I’m skeptical.
But Moretti leans in closer, closer… And then he simply kisses the corner of my mouth. The brush of his lips is so unexpectedly soft after the ruthless demand of his tongue that my breath catches.
“Are you ready?” he repeats.
My back remains pressed to the cool wall, the robe hanging open where he pushed it aside to reach me, my breasts exposed to the air that feels suddenly too thin.
Without waiting for my response, he pushes away from me.
The absence of his body and heat is sudden and stark.
Cool air rushes in where his heat had caged me, raising goose bumps along my arms and across the upper swells of my breasts.
With the same deliberate control that I now believe he always shows, he slides the robe back over my shoulders and draws the lapels together over my breasts.
My frown deepens.
His gesture is careful, almost tender, and that’s not the same Moretti who told that prisoners don’t get pretty dresses.
Then he reaches for my belt.
Shocking me even more, he ties it tight around my waist.
He remains naked, unconcerned, every line of him on full display in the soft bedroom light.
His broad shoulders still carry traces of water from our shower.
His scarred chest rises with each measured breath.
His ridged abdomen leads down to the heavy, thick length of his cock that hangs between powerful thighs.
Damn him.
Even though I want to be immune, the sight of him steals the air from my lungs and heat curls through me, even though I’m still sore from his unyielding possession..
“Come with me.” He closes his fingers around my wrist and guides me away from the wall.
Confused, but intrigued, I cross the room in silence.
He stops in front of the closet and opens the door.
“Have a look.”
He releases his grip, and I take a step inside. My breath vanishes.
The space is vast, lit with soft recessed lighting that spills over racks and shelves overflowing with everything I could possibly need.
There are rows of tailored pants in soft wools and crisp linens, workout gear in sleek blacks and deep grays folded with military precision, swimsuits in rich jewel tones hanging like silent invitations, sneakers lined neatly below, sandals and delicate heels arranged beside them, hats perched on upper hooks, even scarves and belts coiled with the utmost precision.
Everything appears to be in my size. Ane everything appears to have been chosen with the same ruthless attention he used when he ordered my Sicilian Velvet on that rooftop.
“This is…”
“For you,” he confirms.
“But…” I frown as my thoughts collide on top of each other. “How long are you planning to keep me here?”
He folds his arms and props a shoulder against the doorjamb. “The house is yours—ours— if you want it.”
“Are you serious?” I turn to look at him.
“I bought it in the hopes you’ll like it.” He shrugs. “But you are more than welcome to renovate to your tastes.”
From what I’ve seen, there isn’t a lot I’d change. If I were buying my own place, it would probably look a lot like this.
“My family also has a house in the Hill Country,” he goes on.
I’ve heard that before, so the news comes as no surprise.
If our intel can be believed, it’s a place where there is plenty of privacy, where meetings can be held. In fact, one was recently convened there to confirm Matteo as the family’s don.
“We’re a fair distance from that. I thought you’d appreciate having your own retreat. A place of seclusion to rest and reset.”
He bought me a house, and a closet full of exquisite clothing as a wedding gift?
“What about the vineyards?”
“Currently the grapes are sold to wineries in the area. If we keep the place, I’d like to begin bottling it ourselves.”
The news startles me. “You wouldn’t want a tasting room on the property.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “There will be no busloads of tourists showing up here.”
As I would expect. “So your own private label.”
“Our own,” he corrects.
The statement brings my chin up. Our own? As in he’s also thinking of me?
He shrugs, as if he doesn’t care one way or another. “The decision is entirely yours, Valentina. If you hate this, then I will sell.”
Even though I would have never willingly come here, I don’t hate it.
Then his lips quirk slightly. “The estate is not far from Fredericksburg.”
I’ve been to Hill Country a couple of times. Once to see the blue bonnets bloom while also indulging in a chauffeured tour of the biggest wineries in the area. Of course, on the girls’ trip, we’d indulged in plenty of food and shopping on the main street of the quaint, charming town.
I have good memories of the visits. And it’s a nice change from Dallas and Houston.
And still… “Does this mean I am not your prisoner anymore?”
His answer isn’t straight up. “You will always be kept safe.”
I meet his eyes. I’m unnerved by his nakedness, and the way his cock hangs even heavier than before. “What does that mean?”
“You’ll go nowhere without me.” Then he scowls. His dark eyes rake over me as if he can see every calculation racing behind my calm facade.
He takes a step toward me, reminding me of the threat that he is.
Dante Moretti, even a more accommodating version of him, is still a mafia underboss. And that comes with certain, harsh realities. As the daughter of a don, I’m familiar with those.
While the man who married me isn’t as big of a target as his brother is, law enforcement no doubt has a hard on for him, and assassination is always a threat.
He has power, and plenty of it. But the cost is freedom.
Still, I meet his gaze unblinkingly. “How is any of that different from when you had me as a prisoner in your house in Houston?” I only caught glimpses of the inside of his house twice. Once when he took me wedding dress shopping, and when I left for the cathedral.
“You’ll have full use of the house, the pool, the enclosed area of the yard. If you want to leave the explore the vineyard or leave the premises, you will have security with you.”
And there will always be soldiers inside the house, as well as inside the perimeter. Not that any of this is a surprise.
From the moment I was born, this has been my life.
I’ve always been a target, and I may even be a bigger one now.
“My terms are not negotiable, Valentina.”
Of course they’re not. He remembers how easy it had been for him to kidnap me from that rooftop, even surrounded by friends and my guards.
And when he burst through the door of the bridal room at the cathedral, I’d been prepared to flee.
There’s no way he will risk losing his wife, especially not now that he’s spilled his seed inside me.
“But none of these are the gift I mentioned.”
There’s more?
Curious, I watch as he walks past me and reaches for something I hadn’t noticed on the top shelf.
It’s a small box, and he offers it to me.
He holds it while I lift the lid.
And I gasp, looking up at him.
“You can thank Bella.”
The sight of my purse and phone knock the breath from me.
These small, ordinary objects feel like oxygen after drowning, as if I’ve been offered pieces of my life back.
He gives me a wry grin. “She was rather…insistent.”
That I can believe. I love her fierceness, and I couldn’t be more grateful that she is who she is.
I don’t know if there is a catch, but I snatch up the phone.
Has he wiped the data, scrubbed every contact and message that once connected me to my father, to Chiara, to the world I once ruled from the shadows?
He closes his hand on mine. “We need to talk.”