Chapter 39
T wo weeks later, the silence in Daniel's apartment wraps around us like velvet. The only sound is the ragged rhythm of my breathing and the slick slide of skin against skin. I arch my back against the soft sheets, the cool air ghosting over my sweat-slicked body.
"Please," I gasp, my voice rough with need. "Daniel, please."
His eyes rake over me. Naked, spread out before him like a feast, wrists crossed and tethered to the headboard with soft leather. His fingers move slowly along his own rigid length, stroking with maddening patience.
"So eager, princess," he murmurs, his voice low and raspy. It sends tremors through my core. "So beautiful."
The restraints bite gently into my skin when I pull against them. The pressure sends a fresh wave of heat flooding through me.
"Fuck me," I plead. "Please, I need you."
Daniel's thumb circles the head of his cock, his eyes never leaving mine. "What do you need, Lucrezia?"
The intensity of his gaze pins me as effectively as the binds. "You," I breathe. "Inside me."
Daniel steps closer, the mattress dipping under his knee. His free hand skims up my inner thigh. My hips jerk instinctively toward his touch, but he avoids where I need him most, tracing patterns instead along the sensitive skin of my hip bone.
"Use your words," he commands softly. "Tell me where you want me."
"Here." I squirm, trying to guide his hand. "Please, touch me."
Daniel chuckles, low and dark. He finally drags the pad of his finger through my slick folds. I cry out at the contact, pressing against him shamelessly.
"Green," I gasp immediately, needing him to know. "Green, Daniel."
He watches my body's response like a study in motion, his finger working slow circles around my clit without direct contact. "Always so responsive for me."
I buck against his teasing hand. "Daniel?—"
Fingers sink into me without warning, curling deep. My cry dissolves into a breathless moan as my hips roll to meet his thrusts.
"Tell me," Daniel murmurs, his own voice strained as he watches my body tremble beneath his touch. "Tell me what you feel."
"Full," I pant, straining against the bonds as pleasure coils tight in my belly. "So good... please don't stop..."
His thumb finds my clit, pressing firm. "Come for me, Lucrezia."
The command shatters my control. My back bows off the bed as orgasm rips through me, sharp and blinding. Ecstasy pulses around his fingers while he works me through it.
When I finally slump back against the sheets, trembling, Daniel withdraws his fingers. He brings them to his lips, tasting me with a groan that vibrates straight to my core.
The loss leaves me aching, hollow. I need more. Need him to fill me completely.
"Daniel," I plead, my voice raw as I tug against the restraints. "Please, I need you inside me. Now."
Daniel leans over me, his cock heavy and thick against my thigh. I can feel the heat radiating from it. The head glistens with arousal.
"Ask properly," he commands.
Power thrums between us. The authority in his voice shouldn't make me wetter, but it does. I swallow hard, meeting his gaze.
"Fuck me," I whisper, my voice thick with need. "Own me."
A low growl rumbles in Daniel's chest as he positions himself between my legs.
He watches my face as he pushes inside, slowly stretching me open. The restraint makes the sensation overwhelming. I can't touch him, can't control the depth of his invasion. All I can do is feel. Take it. Surrender.
"Always so perfect," Daniel grits out, his body trembling with restraint. "So fucking tight for me."
My heels dig into the mattress as he sinks deeper, hitting that spot that makes stars burst behind my eyelids. I'm pinned beneath him, completely vulnerable, completely his.
My wrists strain against the soft leather bindings. The slight resistance sends a delicious thrill through me—helpless, exposed, totally at his mercy.
Daniel leans down, capturing my lips in a fierce kiss. His tongue tangles with mine, tasting of desire and dominance. His hips snap forward, driving into me with a force that steals my breath.
I cry out against his mouth as sensation overwhelms me. My body instinctively arches to meet his thrusts, needing him deeper, harder.
"Daniel!" My voice breaks as another climax builds.
He watches me unravel beneath him, his expression fierce with satisfaction. "That's it, baby. Let go for me."
The command unravels me. Pleasure explodes through my veins, my entire body convulsing around him as I shatter utterly.
Daniel's control snaps. His hips piston hard and fast as he chases his own release. He buries his face against my neck, teeth scraping along my pulse point.
"I won't last," he groans against my skin. "You feel too fucking good."
I stand in the corner of the dining room, watching Lucrezia laugh at something Matteo says. Her arm is still bandaged from the bullet wound, but her smile lights up her entire face. Two weeks since the wedding-turned-bloodbath, and I still can't believe she's mine.
This family is either talking or killing bastards. There's no in-between.
Tonight, it's talking. Everyone's gathered around the massive table that's seen more negotiations and threats than most boardrooms. Evelyn sits beside Noah, her color finally back after the poisoning.
She struggled for days after that. Sienna leans into Enzo's side while he keeps one protective arm around her shoulders.
Melania and Alessio are deep in conversation about something on her phone.
Hazel and Matteo complete the circle, with Matteo currently holding court.
"So there I am, standing in this fancy restaurant in Rome," Matteo continues, gesturing with his wine glass, "wearing nothing but a towel because this asshole stole my clothes while I was in the sauna."
Ettore appears with a steaming platter of osso buco, setting it down with a flourish. "Signor Matteo, you tell this story every time," he scolds, but his eyes twinkle with amusement.
"Because it's a good story, Ettore! And Evelyn hears it for the first time." Matteo protests.
Ginerva follows with a bowl of risotto, swatting Matteo's hand when he tries to steal a taste before she's finished serving. "Patience, bambino," she chides him like he's still five years old.
The easy familiarity between them all hits me in the chest. This isn't just a crime family—it's a real family. One I'm somehow becoming part of, despite everything.
Lu catches my eye across the room and gives me a smile. I'm still not used to being able to look at her openly, to have her look back without hiding it.
"Daniel," Damiano calls, breaking my trance. "Sit. Eat."
Two words. An order, but also acceptance. He hasn't forgiven me for taking Lu, but he's acknowledged what she told him—that she loves me, that I love her. In Damiano's world, that counts for something.
I take the empty chair beside Lu, my thigh pressing against hers under the table. She slides her good hand onto my knee, a small gesture hidden from the others.
"Finish the story, Matteo," Hazel encourages, leaning forward with her chin propped on her hand.
"Right, so I'm in this towel, trying to convince the ma?tre d' that I'm actually a guest and not some crazy person, when who walks in but the fucking mayor of Rome with his entire entourage."
Everyone at the table erupts in laughter.
"What did you do?" Evelyn asks, her eyes wide.
"What could I do? I grabbed a serving tray to cover my ass and made a run for it," Matteo says, slapping the table. "Knocked over an entire cart of tiramisu on my way out."
Ginerva shakes her head as she pours more wine. "I'm sure this boy has been trouble since he could walk."
"And yet you love me best," Matteo tells her with a wink.
"I love all of you equally," Ginerva responds primly, but she gives Matteo's shoulder an extra squeeze as she passes.
Lu's fingers tighten on my knee, and I look down to find her watching me.
"You okay?" she whispers.
I nod, covering her hand with mine. "Just... getting used to this."
"You've been with us for years."
"To being part of it."
Her smile softens, and she leans in to press a kiss to my shoulder, not caring who sees. "You've always been part of it. Now you're just sitting at the table instead of standing guard."
I look around at these people who kill without hesitation but who would also die for each other without question. At Lu, who chose me despite everything.
Maybe she's right. Maybe I've been part of this all along.
I take a bite of the osso buco, savoring the rich flavor. Ettore's cooking is something I've appreciated for years.
"Daniel," Damiano says, his voice cutting through the laughter around us. "What's the latest on our Russian friends?"
The table falls silent.
"Nothing new," I report, shifting into security mode. "They've gone dark since the cathedral. No movement at any of their known properties."
Damiano nods, setting down his wine glass. "Volkov has been quiet once again."
"Too quiet," Enzo says.
"We hit every location we had intel on," Alessio adds, leaning forward. "The warehouse in Red Hook, the nightclub, the apartments in Brighton Beach. All empty."
"They disappeared," Damiano confirms, "but they never left the country. That's why whatever Volkov property we and the Sartoris hit were empty. They knew we were coming."
I think about the Russian I interrogated before the wedding, how he'd spilled everything about the attack on Lu. "They're regrouping. Planning."
"Exactly," Damiano agrees. "They're not done. We'll face them again, and we all know it. Sooner or later."
Lu's fingers dig into my thigh. I cover her hand with mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"Let them come," Noah says, his voice cold as he glances at Evelyn. "We'll be ready this time."
Matteo nods. "No more leaks. No more surprises."
"The Sartoris?" I ask, thinking about the fallout from the cathedral. Bruno in a coma, Riccardo dead, Pietro now in charge.
Damiano's jaw tightens. "Pietro wants an alliance. Nico wants blood. He blames us for his brother's death, even though it was Volkov's man who pulled the trigger. Even if you killed the Russian that killed Riccardo."
"We've offered compensation," Zoe adds, her voice diplomatic. "Money, territory, business concessions."
"He's considering it," Damiano says, though his tone suggests he doesn't believe Nico will accept. "But he's young, angry. Dangerous combination."
"Two fronts," I say quietly. "Russians and Sartoris."
"Potentially," Damiano agrees. "Which is why we need to be prepared. All of us."
His gaze sweeps the table, lingering on Lu, then me. I know what he's thinking—that I'm a liability where Lu is concerned, that my feelings for her could compromise my judgment in a fight.
He's not wrong.
"I've increased security at all properties," I tell him. "Added men at the shelter construction site, and doubled patrols at the warehouse district."
"Good," Damiano nods. "But we need to be vigilant. They could strike anywhere, anytime."
Lu shifts beside me. "What about the casino? The Gaming Commission?"
I shift in my seat, watching Alessio take over the conversation. His eyes are tired, dark circles underneath from the sleepless nights we've all been having since the cathedral.
"We've paused anything related to the casino for now," Alessio explains to Lu, his voice measured and calm as always. "The Gaming Commission understands the circumstances. They've given us an extension considering what happened."
Lu nods, her fingers still intertwined with mine under the table. "And the Sartoris? What about our agreement with them?"
"We're giving them time," Alessio continues. "They have a dead brother and one in a coma. It would be... disrespectful to push business matters right now."
Damiano sets down his wine glass with a soft clink against the table. "After an appropriate mourning period, we'll arrange a meeting with Pietro. We need to determine where we stand."
"And where do we stand?" Lu asks.
Alessio exchanges a glance with Damiano before answering. "There will either be a new vendetta or we'll remain united against the Russians. It depends on whether Pietro or Nico has more influence."
"Pietro is the reasonable one," Enzo adds, his arm still protectively around Sienna. "He understands that we didn't pull the trigger. That the Russians are the real enemy."
The table falls silent as everyone processes this. I can feel the tension radiating from Lu's body beside me. She blames herself, I know. For running away with me, for the wedding that turned into a bloodbath.
"It wasn't your fault," I whisper to her, low enough that only she can hear.
She squeezes my hand in response, but her eyes remain troubled.
"For now," Alessio continues, "we wait. We prepare for either outcome. And we stay vigilant."
"The Russians are still the priority," Damiano says firmly. "They've gone dark, but they're not gone. We need to be ready when they surface again."
I nod in agreement. The Russians are like sharks—just because you can't see them doesn't mean they're not circling, waiting for the right moment to strike.
"We'll find them," I promise, looking directly at Damiano. "And we'll end this."
For the first time tonight, Damiano gives me something close to approval in his gaze. Whatever he thinks of me personally, he knows I'm good at my job. And right now, my job is keeping his family—our family—safe.