Chapter 17 Emilio
Emilio
Her taste lingers as I watch Mara step out from the motel bathroom, steam wrapping around her like a soft veil.
The buzzing fluorescent light above throws harsh shadows, making her look more dangerous, more like she's mine.
Water droplets slide down her back, paths I want to trace with my mouth, but she covers herself with the thin towel before I can move.
The sex should have been enough. It should have silenced the need that's been growing inside me for three years. But instead, I feel even hungrier—not just for her body, but for the parts of herself she's still keeping from me, even while she cried my name as I took her against that flimsy door.
"We can't stay here much longer," she says, avoiding my gaze as she searches her go-bag for clean clothes. The distance she creates makes my jaw tighten. "Callahan's men will widen their search."
"Let them come." The words come out harsher than I intended, anger lacing my voice. "I'll kill anyone who tries to take you from me."
She freezes, black lace underwear hanging from her fingers. "Emilio..."
"Don't." I rise from the sagging bed, moving toward her. The rough carpet scrapes my bare feet, each step catching slightly. "Don't pull away again. Not after what just happened between us."
"What happened was..." She starts to turn, but I corner her against the bathroom doorframe, my arms creating a barrier without touching her. The metal frame feels cold against my hands, contrasting with the warmth from her body.
"Was what?" I lean in closer, my breath stirring the damp hair at her neck. "A mistake? A moment of weakness? Another excuse to run?"
Her shoulders tense, but she doesn't try to leave. "It was complicated."
I laugh, the sound dark and bitter. "Everything's complicated with you, Mara. Your loyalty to the Callahans. Your complete inability to tell me the fucking truth about anything."
She turns quickly to face me, her eyes filled with anger that makes me excited despite the anger building inside me. "You want the truth? Fine. The truth is that
we're still enemies, Emilio. We're still on opposite sides of a war that's going to destroy everything."
I scoff. “Word to the wise, sweetheart. You don’t work for the Callahans anymore.
You’re well and truly fired. The memo must be still in the mail.
Don’t tell me we’re enemies.” I hold her face in my hands, making her look at me.
"Because thirty minutes ago, you were begging me to fuck you harder while you came around me. That didn't feel like enemies."
Her cheeks turn red, but she stands her ground. "Sex isn't trust. It's just chemistry."
"Is that right?" I slide my thumb across her lower lip, sensing her breath catch despite her defiant words. "Then why are you shaking?"
She pulls away from my touch, wrapping the towel tighter around her like armor. "Because I'm cold. And tired. And wondering what the hell I'm doing in this nightmare."
Her words sting more than they should. I drop my hands, stepping back to give her the space she wants.
“You promised no more running,” I say, hating how pathetic I sound.
She sighs, her whole body sagging. “I’m not running, I’m… thinking.”
She walks past me into the main room, putting on clothes with quick movements that seem more intimate than when she was naked. I need to break through her defenses. Again.
"We need options," I say, grabbing my phone from the nightstand. "Somewhere safer than here."
"Like your last safe house?" Her sarcasm cuts deep. "The one the Callahans walked through like it was made of paper?"
The reminder of my failure fills me with anger. All that planning, all those security measures, and I couldn't keep her safe when it was crucial. "That won't happen again."
I go through my contacts, my thumb pausing over a name I haven't called on for help in months. Years maybe. Asking for help goes against everything I've learned about being self-reliant, but keeping Mara safe is more important than my pride.
"I have family," I finally say. "Resources beyond what the Callahans can reach."
Her face goes pale. "You want to involve your family? After what I've done?"
"Matteo might help." The words feel empty, but I'm desperate enough to say them. "If I explain the situation."
Before I can doubt myself, I press the call button. It rings four times before my twin's voice breaks the silence, sounding sleepy and annoyed.
"Emilio? It's three in the fucking morning. This better be life or death."
"It might be." I keep my voice calm, knowing Mara is listening to every word. "I need a favor."
A pause. "What kind of favor?"
"The kind that requires discretion."
I hear movement on the other end—he's probably getting out of whatever woman's bed he's in to take this call seriously.
"Jesus, Milo. What have you gotten yourself into?"
That's the first time he's used my childhood nickname without it sounding sarcastic in months. When did we stop being brothers and become just... coworkers? When did the gap between us grow so wide that asking for help feels like losing?
"I can't explain over the phone," I say softly. "But I need a safe place. Somewhere the Callahans can't reach."
Another pause, longer this time. "The Callahans. This is about her, isn't it? Mara. Your fuck bunny."
The crude comment makes me see red. "Yes."
"Fuck me." His laugh is empty. "You found her, and now what? You're playing house while there's a war?"
His dismissive tone stirs anger in me. "It's not like that."
"Bullshit. Because from here, it looks like you've let your dick override your brain. Again."
"Matteo..."
"No, listen to me." His voice turns sharp with authority he rarely uses. "The family is under attack. Leo's laid up with bullet holes, Dom's ready to burn half of Manhattan, and you're asking me to hide your woman? Some girl who vanished on you years ago?"
"She's not..." I start, then stop. How do I explain what Mara means to me? How do I put into words the obsession that's taken over my life?
"She's not what, Emilio? Not the reason you've been distracted and useless for weeks? Not the ghost you've been chasing instead of focusing on family business?"
Each word cuts deep, and I feel years of unspoken resentment rising between us. All the times I've put my obsessions before family duties. All the secrets I've kept, the distance I've created.
"I understand perfectly,” he continues. “You've compromised yourself for a piece of ass who's playing both sides. And now you want me to compromise the family too."
Red edges my vision. "Watch your fucking mouth."
"Or what? You'll choose her over your own blood?" Matteo's laugh is bitter, cutting. "News flash, brother, you already have."
I clench my fists and try to regain control over this conversation.
"I'm trying to protect her," I say quietly.
"From who? The Callahans? Or from us?"
The question hits too close to the truth. "Both, if necessary."
Silence stretches between us like a tight wire, broken only by the distant sound of traffic on the highway. When Matteo speaks again, his voice is colder than I've ever heard it.
"Then you're on your own. I won't be part of whatever self-destructive bullshit you're caught in."
"Matt..."
"Don't. Just... don't." I hear him moving again, probably getting dressed. "You want to burn everything down for her? Fine. But leave the family out of it."
"You don't know what you're talking about," I say quietly.
"Don't I? Then explain it to me. Explain why a Rosetti, a fucking Rosetti, is willing to burn bridges with his family for a woman who dumped him."
"Because I love her." The words come out before I can stop them, raw and honest. "Because she's the only thing that's ever mattered more than the family business. More than the codes we live by. More than anything."
Silence hits hard. When Matteo speaks again, his words are cold.
"Love. You think this sick obsession is love? This will destroy everything."
The line goes dead, and I stare at the phone while Mara watches me, knowing too much.
"He said no," she quietly notes.
"Yeah. He said no." I set the phone down, trying to control the anger and disappointment inside me.
"Emilio," Mara starts, but I stop her with a gesture.
"Don't. Whatever you're going to say, don't." I sit on the edge of the bed, feeling tired from the confrontation. "I know how this looks. I know what I just did."
"You chose me." Her voice is soft, filled with wonder. "Over your own family."
"I chose you over their approval," I clarify. "There's a difference."
She stands in front of me, looking at my face in the dim light. "Is there? Because it sounds like you just burned a bridge that can't be rebuilt."
"Maybe." I reach for her, placing my hands on her hips to pull her closer. "Does that scare you?"
"I'm terrified," she admits. "The thought that you'd give up so much for someone like me."
"Someone like you," I echo, my thumb brushing the curve of her hip through her jeans. "You mean someone brave enough to walk into danger? Someone smart enough to play different sides and not get caught? Someone who makes me feel human instead of just... useful?"
She holds my face in her hands, making me look at her. "Someone who's been lying to you about everything important."
Her words should hurt. Should spark the anger that's been growing since she came back to New York. But instead, I just pull her closer, until she's between my knees and I can rest my head against her stomach.
"Then tell me the truth," I whisper against her soft sweater. "All of it. The reason you left me. The reason you worked for Callahan. Let me help you with whatever you're hiding."
Her fingers run through my hair, nails gently scratching my scalp. "I can't. Not yet. Not until..."
"Until what?"
"The people I've been working for don't let go easily. Until I know how to deal with that, the truth puts us both in danger."
I lean back to look at her face, trying to find answers in the dim light. "How bad is it, Mara? What aren't you telling me?"
Fear mixed with determination shows on her face, desperation wrapped in careful control. "Bad enough that staying in this motel another night might be the safest choice."
Her words send a chill through me. Whatever she's running from, whatever is closing in on us, it's big enough to make a woman who's faced hell alone choose a cheap room over comfort and safety.
"Then we stay," I say simply. "But tomorrow..."
"Tomorrow?"
I stand, holding her face in my hands. "Tomorrow, I remind you why you're worth fighting for. Why you're worth choosing over everything else."
Her breath catches, her eyes widening as she sees my intent. "Emilio..."
"You promised you wouldn't run again, Mara. No more hiding or pretending this is just about survival." I lightly kiss her lips, sensing her uncertainty and fear. "Tomorrow, I court you properly. Show you what it means to be claimed by someone who sees you as more than just a conquest."
"And tonight?"
I grin against her mouth, my smile filled with promise. "Tonight, we survive. Together."
As I pull her onto the rough mattress, I make myself a vow. Tomorrow, I'll surround her with luxury so she remembers what it's like to be cherished. I'll break through her defenses with pleasure and comfort and the kind of care that makes a woman forget why she was ever scared.