14. What Happens Next
fourteen
Felicity entirely forgot about the damn misaligned elevator and she only kept from crashing onto the floor by twisting herself sideways and falling into the wall instead. All because of the three-inch difference between where the building’s elevator stopped and where the actual floor opened up. In her rapid stumbling she slammed against her injured wrist and had to bite back a cry of pain as the impact sent a shockwave up to her also sore shoulder.
Okay, silver lining. I didn’t drop the phone.And she was more grateful than ever that she’d talked Abby into letting her continue on by herself, because that would have been more humiliating than having needed rescuing in the first place.
Felicity dragged in a breath, pushed away from the wall before whatever tenant lived there could come see what had happened, and forced herself to continue down the hall. She actually knew the older man who lived there, come to think of it, and he probably hadn’t heard a thing. So maybe she hadn’t run out of luck yet. But as her own door came into sight, she found herself faced with a very ridiculous and uncomfortable question. What the hell am I doing here?
She’d come back to interrogate Chuck. She’d thought she could get answers out of him. In a sense she supposed she had, but not at all the way she’d meant to, so she felt incredibly dissatisfied about it. Worse than that, though, was the fragment of the answer she had uncovered. Chuck had some sort of connection to her stupid bastard half-brother, which probably meant he had a connection to the gang her stupid bastard half-brother apparently co-operated. All of which meant that this was not a place Felicity should be.
She knew that. But she had no way to leave. She was forced to stay and wait for Cristiano.
Felicity stood in front of her door, phone in hand, feeling half her natural size and utterly incompetent. Her entire arm hurt thanks to crashing into the damn wall like a graceless buffoon, as did her ankles from the way she’d had to throw herself around just to land there. Neither hurt as much as her pride, which was funny, because she hadn’t been sure she’d had much of that to start with. But apparently, she had, and the ease with which Chuck had pushed her into submission and then himself been dropped to the floor made it feel like she was the one who’d wound up beneath someone’s foot.
I’m so stupid.
“I was starting to think you weren’t coming home.” The too-close voice of her least favorite neighbor jarred Felicity out of her unintentional pity party and she spun around, finding him standing almost directly behind her. For once, no cigarette hung from his mouth, but as always, he’d left his own door open when he’d ambled across the hall.
Felicity frowned and pulled her arms closer to herself on reflex. “What do you want, Matt?” It was a dumb question. She knew what he wanted. She just wasn’t in the headspace to deal with him.
He smiled, his gaze wandering slowly over her. “That’s a new dress. What’re we celebrating?”
She really wanted to smack him. In the face, while she held her sturdy new phone in her hand. Maybe step on his nasty toes, too, and break them so thoroughly he never walked right again. It was arguably possible some of her anger in this moment wasn’t his fault. He had, however, never failed to miss a perceived opportunity to make inappropriate and expressly undesired sexual comments to her and she was sick and tired of hearing them. So she clenched both hands around her phone and snapped, “We are not celebrating anything. This is the very last time I will tell you, Matt, back off and leave me the hell alone. Just because we’ve shared a hallway for the last year doesn’t mean you have the right to anything with me. I am sick of telling you no. I am sick of having to worry about running into you. I am sick of smelling your tobacco smoke because you can’t be bothered to lean out one of your exterior windows. And I am goddamn sick of that leer on your face and the way you can hardly look away from my boobs. Go back inside or go back to your life, whatever, but leave me out of it!”
For a singular moment, Felicity was proud of herself again. Despite the rush of heat to her face at having half-shouted the last of what she’d said, she was proud of herself for finally giving him the response he really deserved.
Then Matt lifted his dark, beady eyes to hers. He wasn’t leering this time, or even scowling. He looked almost dead inside. He stepped closer, crowding her back against her closed and locked door. “That’s a great idea. Just go back to my life. Without a single taste of the sweet little cunt under that skirt.” He huffed out a breath. “Nope. For so many reasons, nope.”
Fear skittered down her spine. He was well inside her personal space now and Felicity was all too aware of her disadvantage. She opened her mouth—to scream, or tell him off again, she wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter.
Matt shot out an arm and locked his hand around her throat, pressing hard enough to choke off her air supply. “Why don’t we go inside before anyone else sees you, and you can make up for all the mean things you’ve said to me.” He used the hand at her throat to pull her forward, ignoring her one-handed attempt at clawing at his arm and leaning in until she could smell the old, residual tobacco on his breath. “Maybe if you suck me real good, I’ll—”
Felicity forgot about trying to breathe when a handgun entered her line of sight, pressed up to Matt’s temple. She saw Matt’s eyes blow wide and his grip immediately loosened.
“Get your goddamn hands off her or I paint this disgusting hallway with your fucking brain matter.” Cristiano’s furious voice was like a chorus of angels in her ears. From the way Matt paled and threw himself backward, he may not have heard something quite as wonderful.
Felicity sucked in a gasping breath, one hand instinctively lifting to her throat as if to rub away the lingering discomfort.
“F-fuck, man!” Matt exclaimed.
Cristiano ignored him and turned to her, his stare dropping immediately to her neck and the wound on her raised wrist. He stepped into her space and gently ghosted his fingers over the outside of her wrist. “Did he do this?”
It probably wasn’t healthy to react the way she did to his question, or the timbre of his voice when he spoke. All Felicity could do was hope the inappropriate heat that suddenly sparked inside her wasn’t obvious on her face somehow, because she wasn’t about to hide from him. Not when all she wanted to do was fall into his arms. “That was … Chuck.” She licked her lips, knowing she needed to say more and not wanting to get into it in the hallway. “Can we go home? I want to go home.”
Only when Cristiano extended his gun behind him, aimed at a slight angle but directly toward Matt, did Felicity realize Matt had tried to slink away. Cristiano didn’t otherwise acknowledge the man, moving his free hand to cup her cheek and bending down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Yeah, baby.” He pulled her against him, his arm locking around her, and she had to turn her head sideways to see what might happen next.
“Wh-what the fuck,” Matt stammered, “I-I didn’t know! I swear I didn’t—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Cristiano maneuvered enough to straighten his arm. “I’ll be coming back for you. So you can choose whether you crawl back into that rat’s nest of an apartment and cower in fear, or throw yourself out a window to avoid what’s coming. But know that if you choose to run, I will find you.”
Felicity watched as Matt plastered himself against the far wall, stare riveted for once on something other than her.
Then Cristiano tucked his gun away, at his back, and scooped Felicity off her feet. He turned, holding her to his chest, and walked them back to the slowly breaking elevator. She didn’t even feel jostled when he adjusted to press the button for the ground floor, then the button to close the doors. He put his back to the far wall and held her tighter.
Her throat constricted as she quickly became aware of the tension in his body. It was her fault. She was sure it was her fault, because she’d made a series of increasingly moronic decisions. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. It wasn’t her intention to whisper, but when she spoke, she realized whispering was the best she could offer at the moment, anyway.
Cristiano bent down and kissed her head, then let his lips trail to her cheek, before finally straightening. “I’d rather you didn’t decide to do dangerous things without talking them over with me first, at least,” he said. He, too, spoke in something like a whisper. “That doesn’t mean you owe me an apology. You’re not my prisoner, Felicity.”
She let her eyes close, the elevator jolting around them. “I know. But I … I worried you. So I’m sorry.” She wanted to say scared. It felt like she might have scared him. But she hesitated to give voice to that word. It might also have been her imagination, her adrenaline-fueled fantasy.
Cristiano blew out a breath. “The way I felt when I got your text was not ‘worried’,” he said as he walked them out of the elevator. “If I’d thought my car could handle it, I would have driven straight through every fucking obstacle between us.” He walked them to the parking lot, his grip unwavering. “This place is dangerous for you, Foxglove. And as much as I appreciate you wanting to take some initiative, I will set this whole goddamn building on fire with everyone in it before I’ll let you walk into a bad situation.” He came to a stop beside his car and carefully set her back on her feet, moving both hands to her hips to hold her against him. “Do you understand?”
Felicity smiled. “Well, I’m sorry I made you feel that.” The more she talked, the easier it was getting.
Cristiano grunted and leaned in, capturing her lips in a hard kiss. It was wet and demanding and promised things that would definitely not be happening in the parking lot. Then he reached behind her and pulled open the passenger door. “Get in.”
She licked her lips, nodded, and ducked into the car. She was still catching her breath by the time Cristiano was pulling his own door shut behind him.
“What happened to your purse?” he asked.
Her gaze dropped to the phone she had somehow managed to hold onto. “Oh, I … kind of threw it at my cab driver, and he didn’t give it back.” Realizing what he might assume with that, Felicity hurried to add, “I still have your key! It’s in my bra.” She rolled her eyes at herself for blurting the last part, but it was probably better said than not.
Cristiano’s hand paused as he slid the car into reverse. “That’s officially on the list of stories you’re telling me as soon as I finish my next call.” He put the car in motion and asked, “You said your landlord is the one who did that to your wrist?”
Felicity’s immediate confusion shifted just as quickly to frustration and she slumped in her seat. “Yes. I feel like such an idiot.”
Cristiano reached over and gave her thigh a squeeze before passing her his phone. “Can you pair this to the car and dial Ryōma? Put it on speaker for me.”
Properly back to confused, Felicity did as he asked and soon the sound of a ringing line played through the speakers. Not sure what to do next, she quietly set the phone in the tray beneath the dash.
The ringing stopped with a subtle click and an unfamiliar male voice asked, “What’s up?”
Cristiano moved his hand back to Felicity’s thigh. “Need you to collect a couple of assholes for me. You can even dump ‘em in the same room, as long as they’re secured. Just make sure to let me know where they end up once it’s done. Make it somewhere I can have a nice, long chat.”
Chat?Confusion was definitely winning. Did he think he could scare them into talking after today’s events? Then again, after the way Matt had freaked out, maybe he could.
“I can definitely do that,” the voice on the other end of the line attached to the name Ryōma said. There was something that might have been laughter or at least amusement in his tone. “But you gotta tell me who I’m looking for. Assholes are a dime-a-dozen.”
She almost laughed. She had to bite her lips to keep the laughter inside.
Cristiano gave her thigh another squeeze, easily navigating traffic with one hand. “Felicity Garcia’s landlord, Chuck, and her neighbor across the way, Matthew.”
Ryōma let out a short whistle. “Color me intrigued. Okay, I’ll have ‘em rounded up by night’s end.” The line disconnected.
Felicity released a breath. “I don’t know if there’s anything Matt can tell you,” she said, “but I think there’s a connection you can play up between Chuck and Tristán.”
“Yeah? I was just planning on beating the shit out of them until they stopped breathing.” He pulled his hand away in order to make a turn. “What makes you think there’s a connection?”
Her eyes widened. “You said you were going to have a chat.”
“It’s a euphemism,” he said. He tapped a slim electronic button attached to his visor as the car rolled up and then promptly down a driveway, into a gated basement parking garage. He tapped the button again as they drove through and Felicity watched in her side mirror as the gate swung shut.
She gave herself a shake. “Chuck called me ‘Lissy’,” she said. “That, plus his weird behavior and the fact that he was assaulting me and trying to drag me off somewhere, made me think the only thing that makes sense is that he’s in Tristán’s pocket somehow.”
“Then I’ll be sure to grill him about that while he can still talk.” Cristiano turned off the car, released his seat belt, and met her gaze. “Wait for me.”
She unbuckled and watched as Cristiano rounded the car, letting him open the door for her and offer her a hand. His arm moved around her waist as they headed back toward the private elevator, and Felicity realized two things she hadn’t noticed before. There were two elevators to choose from—Cristiano taking the one that required a thumb print to step into—and she couldn’t have identified a floor number for the penthouse suite if she’d thought to try. There were only three options inside the elevator, which were B1 for the parking garage, L she presumed for the lobby, and PH for penthouse.
Felicity stared at the panel with the trio of pristine buttons for a long second as the elevator began to rise. Then, finally, she looked up at Cristiano. “How is the key supposed to get me back in?” It certainly wouldn’t get her through the gate if she had a car, either. But she didn’t, so she wasn’t too bothered by that.
“You would come into the building on street level and use the main elevator.” He pointed to the panel. “You would put the key in the slot next to the ‘P-H’ where the button should be, and turn it. That tells the elevator where to go. It’ll open at the lower level of the penthouse. When it arrives, you take the key out and exit the elevator, where you’ll step into a small external foyer. You’ll need the key to unlock that door, which opens into the downstairs gym and automatically locks behind you, so you’d be fine from there.”
There was an echo of familiarity in his words and embarrassment flooded her. “You explained that before, didn’t you?”
He flashed her a grin. “I suspected you were distracted.”
She let herself lean into him instead of responding and repeated the instructions to herself silently, just in case she ever needed them. At least she’d tried to pay some attention to the street they turned onto and the building itself this time. So probably she could find her way back if they got separated outside again.
Cristiano gave her hip a squeeze and stayed silent until the elevator dinged their arrival and he guided her off. “Now, where did you say you put that key?”
Felicity opened her mouth to answer on reflex, but Cristiano released her waist in favor of hooking two fingers in the collar of her dress, tugging her close and simultaneously giving himself a bird’s-eye view of her barely contained breasts. A fresh rush of heat coursed through her and she made no move to stop him.
“Here, was it?” He dipped his fingers into her cleavage, letting them curve beneath her boob and squeezing. Only then did he make a passing effort to scoop out the lip balm that had slipped underneath as well, rolling it between his fingers as he lifted his hand. “Hm. Nope.” He set the item on the small table, beside his own keys. “Guess I’ll try the other side.”
She bit her lip as he dipped his opposite hand into her bra and fondled her chest some more. His thumb rolled over her nipple and she heard herself whine, then he retreated, the lone key pinched between two fingers.
“Found it,” he said, a wicked smirk on his lips. “We’re going to keep this right here.” He opened the top right drawer of the small table, shoved the pack of batteries aside, and set it down. “This is always where your key will be, until you put it on a ring and start coming and going more regularly. Memorize it, in case you need to grab it in a hurry.”
Felicity nodded, staring at the image of the key in the drawer and trying not to think about his hands on her boobs. Or where else she wanted them.
Cristiano shut the drawer and walked her all the way into the bathroom. “First thing’s first,” he said before she could ask. He lifted her onto the counter beside the sink and started rummaging for supplies. “Let’s take care of that wrist.”
Felicity let her gaze drop to the wound she’d managed to forget about. Several of the other aches had faded, too, she realized. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
Cristiano tucked a hand beneath her chin and pulled her focus back to him. “You bled.”
Her heart lodged in her throat.
He didn’t say anything else, and she made no other attempt to talk him out of it. She watched almost abstractly as he proceeded to gently clean and wrap her wrist. The entire wrist didn’t really need wrapping, but he seemed uninclined to stick a pair of band-aids over her already bruised and sensitive skin. It was thoughtful, and his touches so light and tender that she wanted to cry. Even when someone had helped her tend her own injuries in the past, it had never—not once—been done with such care.
When it was done, Cristiano helped her back to her feet and guided her out to the living room. He still seemed on-edge, a little tense, and by contrast she was unfairly worked up. Part of her understood they needed to talk. She certainly had information she needed to share with him, and she was curious to know if everything was all right with his family. But she had other needs, too.
Cristiano lowered onto the center seat of the sofa, as he usually did, and Felicity rolled her lip between her teeth. Then she reached up beneath her skirt and tugged her panties down, letting them drop to the floor.
“What are you doing, Foxglove?” His tone was curious, a little amused, but there was no mistaking the heat that darkened his always intense blue eyes.
Felicity stepped into his space and ran her fingers over his thigh. “I thought maybe we could … multitask?”
A slow, understanding smirk lifted Cristiano’s lips. “If that’s what you want, baby, I’m happy to oblige.” He undid his pants, adjusting enough to shove them down over his knees, and resettled. “Get up here and sit on my cock.”
Felicity wasted no time scrambling onto his lap. She felt like she’d asked for something scandalous despite that they were completely alone. It added an extra layer of excitement that had her moaning as he reached between them and lined himself up. Her hands twisted into the shirt over his shoulders as he notched a hand on her hip and pulled her down on him, filling her completely.
Her head fell back and she let out a long moan at the feel of him stretching her. It felt so good. He felt so good. Like a reward after a stressful day, reaching deep inside her and teasing all those pleasure spots that only he had ever known.
Cristiano slid one hand up under her skirt and lightly swatted her butt. “Your sweet pussy’s as hot as ever, baby, but no getting off before we have this conversation.” A shiver ran through her and the hand Cristiano had on her hip squeezed tighter. “You like that, do you?”
She licked her lips. They were working on an open and honest kind of relationship, despite the conflicts surrounding them, so she forced herself to say words that she might once have thought would be too humiliating to confess. “I like the way you feel inside me.”
His hand lifted from her hip to curl around her nape and tug her down for a wet, demanding kiss. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, the hand over her ass keeping her almost completely still atop him. Only when he retreated did Cristiano let out a groan and rumble, “That’s my good girl.”
Her whole body flushed and she smiled before she realized it. She slid her hands around his neck, letting her fingers lift just enough to scrape her nails over the back of his neck. “Which of us goes first?”
Cristiano chuckled. “That will be the question.” Amusement lingered in his eyes for a moment, his fingers rubbed gently against her skin, and he drew a breath. “You first.”
In the second of quiet she took to gather herself; Felicity felt her body clench around his. Reminding both of them, as if they could forget, that he was seated about as deeply as he could go. She wished she could dwell on that. Instead, she did what she needed to and quietly told him everything. From Dr. Laura giving her cash and the asshole cabby to the unexpected assault from her ex-landlord, and her even-less-expected rescue by a stranger.
When she finished, Cristiano let out a low growl and pulled her forward again. This time, though, his kiss was surprisingly tender. It wasn’t chaste, but it didn’t feel like he was fucking her mouth with his—more like he was sharing a deeper, more intimate affection that made her insides melt. Again he groaned as the kiss broke, his fingers massaging her scalp. “I’m going to need the name of that cab company later.”
Felicity laughed softly. “It was just—”
“No, baby.” He squeezed the cheek still beneath his lower hand. “No one treats you like that. Ever again.”
Her heart fluttered. Her heart, and parts further south that had both of them moaning and breathing a little heavier. She pulled herself together. “Cristiano … I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Never apologize for asserting yourself, Felicity. You have every right to get the answers you were looking for, and you did make progress, even if it didn’t go the way you wanted.” His expression softened and he stroked his hand over her hip and down her thigh before returning it to her butt. “You’re stronger than you think.”
Her throat swelled and she swallowed hard. “So … now you know my story. How’d things go on your end? Is everything okay?”
Cristiano pushed out a breath. “Mikey’s onto us,” he said bluntly. “He gave me twenty days to get all this shit straightened out. And I’ve come to a couple of conclusions.”
Felicity curled her hands into the back of his shirt, trying to focus on the strength of his voice and not the terrifying thing he’d just said. She nodded to assure him she was listening.
“The best way to get the proof we need is with help. You haven’t done anything to, or ever had a conversation with, a single other member of my family—they don’t have anything to directly hold against you.” He moved both hands to cup her jaw. “So I’m going to introduce you, as my fiancée. I’m going to make it clear to them that you’re off-limits, because I love you. And in our family, we protect what each other loves, we don’t destroy it.”
Tears rushed her eyes at his words and the hope that came with them, but she managed to ask the question that mattered most. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Yes.” He folded an arm around her and threaded his other hand back into her hair. “But so is what we’re doing. So is leaving you alone when I know someone else knows, someone who can be pressured into talking. Coming forward now is smarter than waiting.”
“And your cousin will … be okay with that?” That wasn’t the impression she’d had.
Cristiano grinned. “He’ll be pissed. We haven’t thrown hands since we were teenagers, but he might give me a shiner for this.” His Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. “But when he sees you with my mother’s heirloom diamond on your finger, he’ll understand.”
Her heart kicked up an erratic drumbeat in her ears. “What?”
“I need you to be sure, baby. Because I’m only giving that ring to one woman.”
The tears that had threatened before broke free, running down her cheeks unabated. “Cris, I— Are you sure? I mean, that’s a big deal, and….” And she wanted him to be sure. Because she wanted to say yes. She couldn’t fathom the idea of another man holding her or touching her, or letting anyone else call her ‘baby.’
He smiled, as if she wasn’t still sitting on his faintly twitching cock. “You’ve been my future since the day I laid eyes on you, Foxglove. If I have it my way, you’ll be Felicity De Salvo before winter sets in. But you have to say the word.”
She opened her mouth, but her voice cracked. Before winter? It was already September! She sucked in a breath and tried again. “Yes,” she whispered. “Please, Cristiano, don’t ever let me go.”