Chapter 19 #2
“No,” I hedged, wrapping my legs around his waist. He jerked away, but in my struggle to stay connected, we rolled again, and I hovered over him.
Through the power exchange, I had his arms above his head, and I pinned him in place.
My mouth hovered above his. My tits heaved with every jagged breath of shared air, sparking a fire inside that would never die.
“Tell me what you want,” I demanded.
A sneer curled his lip like he hurt. Like I was the knife in his side, and every swivel of my hips plunged it deeper.
“Tell me,” I prodded.
“Viviieenne,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Say it.”
“Not like this.”
“Just once.”
Jaw tight, muscles rippling, he pushed the words through his teeth. “This was a mistake.”
Burn.
Frustration doused the flames searing in my veins.
I released him, dragging my nails down his arm to his jaw, shoving at his mouth, and pushing his scarred cheek into the mattress so he couldn’t look at me with those eyes.
He stared at the television that blipped to life as I climbed off him.
I stalked over to my dresser, yanked open a drawer, and then ripped his shirt over my head.
With one hand, I covered my bare breasts; with the other, I tossed his Navy tee onto his chest.
“Get out,” I said, surprised by my steady voice because my insides were jelly. My heart in tatters.
“Vivienne.”
The word was soft and full of torment. His tone begged for something—for forgiveness, maybe for time I didn’t have.
Instead of listening to more of his cazzate, I retrieved a tank and went into my dressing room to change.
I didn’t move until the latch on my bedroom door clicked closed.
Then I threw myself in bed, buried my hand between my legs, and tried not to think of Luca at all. But I called out to God when I did.
?
THE STORM PASSED, the sun rose bright in the sky, and I woke blinded and groggy from the incessant knocking that was like a stampede of barreling bulls in my brain. A pillow over my head didn’t make the belligerent noise disappear.
“Coming!” I finally yelled. Then I mumbled, “Jeesh,” as I rolled out of bed, unsteady and grumpy, stomping from my room to yank open my apartment door.
“What in the world, Vivi? It’s 10:00 a.m.”
Sofia pushed her way inside, setting the latest and greatest Louis Vuitton handbag on my counter.
My eyes narrowed in on her long, curled hair and full face of makeup, winged eyeliner and all.
“Most days you sleep until noon,” I reminded my cousin.
“Except on the Sabbath. But lately, Father Zanetti has asked about your absence at mass.”
“Well.” She took a good look around. Her lips thinned out when she spotted Luca outside.
He and his men watched a hovering helicopter.
My pulse exploded in my neck, keeping time with the whap, whap, whap of the blades.
It hovered for a moment, finally lowering and landing on the helipad designed for just one visitor. Senator Michaels.
The Cosa Nostra, specifically my father, had infiltrated the top tier of the government.
A cold wave of understanding froze the blood in my veins, stopping my heart.
My mother’s death, the information she had, and the senator were all connected.
I was sure of it, as if she whispered confirmation in my ear with the gust of wind blowing through the screen door.
The breeze was almost as cool as Sofia’s eyes as they glided over me, her mouth tugging up at the corner.
“I only miss Sunday mass because Johnny keeps me up late and I need my beauty sleep. Unlike some of us. What do they call those, Viv? Tighty-whities? Wait, I know, granny panties. How… adorable.”
Heat seared through my cheeks while thinking of the thin barrier of cotton between Luca’s dick and my…
I swallowed, brushing my unruly hair with my fingers.
She was right. Of course, she was. Luca’s women would wear silk and lace.
They’d be more like Sofia than me. Little, ugly Vivienne.
And it didn’t matter what I did or how I dressed—I’d always pale to Sofia’s comparison.
I hadn’t even had caffeine to manage through this disappointment.
“Why the special visit?” I asked, beelining to the espresso machine.
“My wedding planner hasn’t called to finalize the details we discussed, so here I am.”
I hung my head, pinching the bridge of my nose.
For the love of God. I buried my mother two weeks ago, and now I had to plan a ceremony around her grave.
I swayed on my feet. Oxygen squeezed from my lungs.
A drum pounded between my ears, and I leaned on the counter to steady myself, but it couldn’t hold me up.
A warm touch met my lower back. “Breathe,” Luca ordered.
The harsh command was aimed at the sensitive skin below my ear, and I fell against the sun.
He was hot enough to burn through my anxiety, so I did as ordered.
Not because I followed rules like his men did.
I didn’t belong to him, and I never would.
But air was important to live, and I inhaled so I could berate him and Sofia. In my underwear.
Mio Dio.
Sense returned a minute too late, and with his hand sliding to my hip.
“Stop touching me,” I hissed through my teeth.
“That’s not what you asked for last night.” His voice was rough and low, just how he’d sounded snuggled between my thighs. The memory lit my skin on fire, igniting my temper.
“Temporary insanity,” I snapped, then squeezed out from under his hold.
I refrained from looking at my cousin while I rushed to dress. First things first, I used my toothbrush to scrub away any lingering embarrassment from last night and this morning. Then I slipped into shorts and returned, wrapping my hair into a bun.
I blinked up, looking into Luca’s eyes. Dark, intense blue flickered with something that looked a lot like an apology. Then they shifted to Sofia, and his jaw clenched.
Her red lips parted, then pursed shut. “What the actual fuck, Vivienne? Does Uncle Vigo know about this? And you…” She shifted her attention to Luca with a wash of male appreciation that eased into disgust because he had turned down her advances more than once over the years.
Now, she’d caught him with his hands on me.
Oh, God. If my father learned of this, we’d be wading up shit’s creek without a shovel.
“Ah, he’s—we’re not—nothing is… Luca is my emotional support animal.” I smacked my head with my palm. “Person. Emotional support person, but nothing is going on other than storm assistance.”
Her arms crossed over her ample cleavage, pushing her boobs out. I did not glance at Luca to see if he noticed.
“Are you having a stroke?” she asked.
“No!” I threw up my hands. “My mother is dead, Sofia. Shot in a hailstorm of bullets and booming thunder, and last night—Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Last night was a repeat of the horror show, and I was right back in the thick of the mission. Luca helped me through the memories with…”
Rough hands.
I shook my head.
“He helped by assuring me…”
With dirty words…
“That the men outside…”
And panting breath.
“That the men outside belonged to him.”
And I do not.
“That’s the honest-to-God truth.”
I never would.
I laughed. She didn’t, and that was a problem.
Sofia was a snitch, and in the Cosa Nostra marriage contracts were signed, sealed, and delivered after less touching than last night.
If there was one thing I wanted in life, it was to be chosen and not bound to a man by contract.
Like a living, breathing necessity, I wanted Luca to want me.
I wanted him to burn for me and only me.
To choose me above everything else without question or second-guesses.
A fanciful wish in a world that offered little hope.
“Look at him,” I said, moving over to the espresso machine to pump out two cups.
A fully caffeinated double for me, and a decaf for Sofia and her nonexistent baby bump.
When I turned, she was in fact eating him alive with her eyes.
Luca scoffed, searing us both with his demented scowl. “Now look at me,” I insisted.
Her gaze flicked over. I walked to her, so she got a good visual of my cut-off shorts, tank, and messy bun, then handed her a mug.
A smile curled her lips. “You’re right. Jesus, Viv. You two had me going for a minute. I thought there was something happening.”
“Just grief therapy.”
“Oh, Simone.” She waved away my mother’s death, though my heart squeezed in my chest. “You have to move on from that, Viv. Let’s talk about my life. Yours is way too depressing.”
“Yeah,” I said, sitting on the couch and ignoring Luca’s hot stare scorching my back. “It really is.”
His sharp hiss bit through the silence. Sofia glanced up, then lifted her mug with her pinky extended.
Luca scowled at me for three seconds. Then he stormed toward the patio door, slammed a palm on the glass, slid it open, and stalked out into the yard.
A Glock was tucked into the waistband of his black dress pants—forever the good mafia soldier.
My gaze stuck on his broad shoulders and his round ass while he bit out an order to a guard.
Sofia’s diamond eyes trailed Luca, then flicked to mine. “You should just give up, Vivi.”
I blinked, my pulse thudding. “On what?”
“Wanting him.”
“I don’t.”
She shrugged. “That’s not true, and we both know it. But we also know he doesn’t want you. He spends every Thursday night at Piascere with a professional. I’ve heard he has a thing for Maria.”
“Gesù Cristo.” Luca’s voice exploded through the window, loud enough that it rattled my bones.
“You get what I’m saying?” Sofia goaded. “She’s a woman with skills to pleasure a man like him. He has no interest in your innocence, Vivi, and he said so in front of the family.”
Jealousy churned my stomach. I wasn’t na?ve enough to believe Luca hadn’t had sex in five years, but the confirmation left my skin damp and my heart aching.
Today was Thursday. It took a will of steel not to glance at him, barking unpleasantries at his men by the open window.
Instead, I tucked my chin to my chest, opening my journal to shift the topic.
“I told you I don’t want him. That was a long time ago, and everything has changed.”
What a lie. God forgive me. I wanted him more now than I ever had before.
“Yeah, well, just keep that in mind because Papa says Uncle Vigo will have you married by the end of the month, and it won’t be to Mr. Tall, Dark, and Not Into You.
Two weddings in just a few weeks.” She preened, grinning like a cherub when she was really the devil.
“But mine must be unforgettable. Let’s get into the details. ”
My stomach rolled again, yet I painted on a smile so she wouldn’t guess the truth. I’d run before I was forced into a commitment with a stranger. Impending doom accelerated my pulse. When the beat settled into a steady tempo, I knew it was time for an escape plan.
I added that as number two on my to-do list.
The first item was to find my mother’s secret.