Chapter Twelve
She falls asleep on the way back to hers, head lolling in rhythm with the vehicle.
I pull up in front of her home. I suppose possibly my home now.
I stare at her. Her face sits relaxed, slight bruising already appearing around her eyes and cheeks.
There’s a pang in my chest—hurt, anger, guilt maybe?
I’m unsure. I just feel off kilter around her.
She’s so fucking beautiful. Battered and bruised, she’s still the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen.
She makes my heart pound in my chest, my dick throb in my jeans and my body tingle, like unused electricity that pulses through every cell.
I step out of the car. I stare up at the building before I move around to her side and gently lift her out.
She winces in her sleep a little before she rubs her face against my chest and settles against me. I can’t help but chuckle.
A warm feeling fills my chest. I want her. I want her to be mine, but I also want her to want me. I head towards the steps and press the bell. The door flings open to a gasp from the housekeeper.
“Matteo, Luca,” she bellows into the house as I step up into the foyer. Arianna stirs in my arms before her eyes open. They widen before blinking a few times, and she pushes against my chest. I rest her down as her two guards step up, drawing their weapons.
“Put them away,” she barks. “Matteo, go with Vittorio and grab his stuff from the car. He’s moving in… apparently. And show him to one of the guest rooms. I’m going for a bath.”
She storms off up the stairs, and I follow her with my gaze, waiting until she disappears out of sight before I stare back at Matteo and nod outside. “Let’s go.”
I follow him and Luca steps in behind me, flanking me until we get to the car.
I snatch the bag from the back seat. I’ve only got the basic stuff I need, but I don’t need anything else.
I’m assuming I won’t be going back, and that just shows me what little my family actually thinks about me.
I’ve endured so much pain from those people, and so much that my brother didn’t have to.
But now they can rot in hell, and if I can help put them there, then all the better.
I’m shown into a room. It’s nice enough, generic.
But after feeling her against me all night, I want that again.
I want to move forward. I want to be with her, but after her statement, I need to be patient.
However, patience isn’t my strong suit, and although I want to storm in there and help her, I also know this isn’t about me.
I need to show her she can trust me, so I throw my bags on the bed and start unpacking.
Once I’ve done that tedious job I step into the ensuite.
It’s not massive, plenty big enough for a normal sized person, but for me the shower is a little more cramped than what I’m used to.
I make the best of it because I’m gonna be in her room before you know it.
I don’t think I can be away from her after I saw what happened today.
I walked back through the bar after the screams that followed the gunfire and the people rushing out of the back door and speeding out of the car park.
I couldn’t not check. That’s when I saw the redhead on the phone, shaking.
I glared down and stepped over the bodies.
The Costa brothers, crosses gouged into their eye sockets, a creepy smile ripped across their faces, and as I stared, I didn’t know the significance.
I still don’t. I must admit it does prove a point.
It does say she’s not to be messed with, and she can take care of herself.
I strode through to the front door and pushed out into the sunshine.
As I stepped towards my car, she was already sitting in it waiting for me, and I smiled because, fuck, she’s beautiful, anyone can see that, but she gives me these glimpses, just minor windows into her soul, she’s intelligent beyond belief, ruthless, versatile, resourceful.
I shake my head. The more I think about her, the harder I get, and if I play my cards right, she will be mine.
I replay the whole situation as I let the water beat down on my shoulders, and as I clean my body, I wrap my fist around my solid dick.
I grunt as I start to grip tighter, sliding my hand up and down my cock.
One hand rests on the cold tiled wall. The other glides over my shaft while my head hangs, letting the water beat down on me.
I can’t stop thinking about her. She invades my every thought.
My breathing is just for her. My heart pounds, beating for her and her alone.
I visualise her, the flush on her cheeks last night when my rough thumbs found the soft piece of skin between her bike leathers as I rubbed it before ripping them off her long, tanned legs against my white sheets, the way she fit against my body.
I grunt as cum fires out, taking me by surprise because I was nowhere near done with that train of thought.
I turn and slide down the wall until I’m sitting awkwardly in the bottom of the shower.
The water cascades down on me. And I tilt my head back, resting it on the back of the tile, the cold pressing into my spine.
The scars tingle, but I pay them no mind.
Tiny reminders of where I’ve come from, who I was.
I breathe deeply and clear my mind, something I’ve not been able to do for the longest time.
I feel like with her I can finally breathe, finally start to be the man I want to be, instead of the soldier I was forced to become.
But now I’m not in that house, I’m not waiting for the beating that would normally be heading my way after I chose someone else over family.
Don’t get me wrong, it hasn’t happened in a long while.
I think my father is genuinely unsure if I’ll fight back, and anyone else I would undoubtedly, but him—he’s still my father.
I was never sure if I could. Still now, for her, I will burn that family to the ground, and I’ll take great pleasure in doing it.
There’s a knock on the bathroom door, and my eyes fly to it as it clicks open. I smile before he steps in, arms folded and a vacant look on his face. I thought it was her, but the scowl that stretches across Matteo’s face is not the face I was hoping to be staring at, especially while naked.
“Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes. How long do you plan on staying?” His biceps bulge as his arms tense.
The tension ticks in his jaw. He’s not as tall or as broad as I am, so I slowly stand, unfolding myself from the heap I was in at the bottom of the shower.
I stand at my full height. Fully naked, I place my hands on my hips and glare at him.
“Thanks, I’m not going anywhere.”
He scoffs. “We’ll see about that.” He turns and leaves, leaving both doors wide open.
“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath as I step out of the shower and wrap the towel around my waist. The other one I grab and scrub at my hair, shaking it out and rubbing my fingers through it to tame it.
I step into the bedroom and head to the dresser.
I spray myself with the deodorant I grabbed, pulling out jeans and a black t-shirt.
I don’t bother with underwear, shoes, or socks; I hate them, and I pad out of the room, heading downstairs.
I follow the smell of home-cooked food and push into the kitchen.
The housekeeper and two younger girls are in there, fussing around with pots and pans.
“Oh, Mr Ricci, please, the dining room is this way.” She goes to hurry me through the door.
“Please. It’s Vittorio. Can I help?”
She stutters a bit before getting out. “Help?” The question confusing her.
“Yes, with dinner.” I frown.
“You cook?” she questions, looking dubious.
“Yes.” I give her a genuine smile.
“But.” She stares at me intently, trying to figure me out.
“I like to cook. The staff at home, erm, Father’s always made such heavy, rich food. I learnt to cook for myself. I… enjoy it.”
“Maybe next time.” She smiles. “It’s all ready.”
I nod, and her smile widens; genuine happiness fills her features.
“Marianne.” She nods.
“Thank you, Marianne.” I turn and leave, meeting a snarling Matteo in the hallway.
“What the fuck are you doin’ in there?” he barks at me, his hand resting on his gun at his hip.
He stares me up and down, lingering on my bare feet before glaring back at my face.
“Dining rooms through there.” He jabs his thumb in the direction, and I stride past him, going into the room and pulling up a chair.
The ladies bring the food out, and I sit and wait, but Arianna doesn’t show.
Matteo and Luca sit opposite me, and Marianne and the girls leave the room.
We just glare at each other until I reach over, grab a spoon, and pile the potatoes on my plate.
Taking a piece of chicken and loading the vegetables, I dig in.
I groan at the taste. It’s not rich or overly done like every meal I was used to before I learnt to cook.
The chicken is tasty, tender, and juicy.
The vegetables have a slight crunch to them without being raw or hard, and the potatoes are so creamy and buttery without being overladen.
I help myself to another spoon and then another. Once I’m stuffed, I flop back in the chair and rub my non-existent stomach.
“So what do you guys do around here for fun?” I take a sip of my water, resting the glass back down. My gaze settles back on theirs.
“Fun,” he scoffs. “This isn’t a holiday fucking camp.”
I nod. That tells me a lot about these guys. They’re tolerating me because they’ve been told to. But they don’t like me being here.
“Are you fucking her?” I stare them both in the eyes. The horror that spreads across each of their faces puts my mind at ease. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“Are you? Is that why you’re here?”
“No, and yes.”
Matteo frowns at me.