Chapter Forty-Six
J ULIAN
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I ’D BEEN DRINKING FOR an hour straight, and Cas hadn’t cut me off once. That told me two things: he knew I needed it, and he didn’t plan on letting me leave the casino tonight.
“You want me to pour another drink or let you drown in that one?” he asked.
“Both,” I muttered, eyes still glued to the ice floating in my glass. “Let me drown slowly, though. I want to feel it.”
Cas raised a brow and poured another, just as Raz and Bryce walked in.
“Damn,” Bryce said, pulling out the barstool next to mine. “You look like shit.”
“Feel worse,” I replied, knocking back another sip.
Raz didn’t say anything right away. Just took the seat on my other side and stared at me like he was waiting for me to open up on my own. That was the difference between the three of them. Cas always talked first. Bryce cracked jokes. Raz waited for you to do the talking.
“She dumped me,” I said finally. “After everything, she fucking dumped me.”
They all knew who she was.
Bryce sighed. “Tatianna left me, too, remember? Took five years to get her back. But she’s back now.”
“I don’t want to wait five damn years,” I snapped.
Raz leaned forward, elbows on the bar. “If it’s real, it’ll come back to you. Look at me and Rosa.”
“You mean the woman who drugged you and tried to kidnap you?” I asked.
Raz gave me a lopsided grin. “She's still mine, though.”
I groaned, rubbing my temples. “I wish Stefanie would kidnap me. Maybe I should just snatch her ass up.”
“No,” they all said in unison.
“That’s not the way,” Cas added.
I chuckled darkly. “That’s funny because each one of you kidnapped the woman you love at some point. Why can’t I do it?”
“Because it’s wrong,” Raz said. “Kidnapping is never the answer.”
Bryce nodded. “Let her come to you, bro. Let her realize you’re the best damn thing she ever had. Make her work to win you back.”
“I don’t want her to work for it,” I muttered, staring at my reflection in the glass. “I just want to give it to her. I’m easy as hell when it comes to her.”
“That’s the heartbreak talking,” Cas stated.
“No, that’s the truth. I need to see her. Tonight!”
“You’ve been drinking,” Cas reminded me. “If you show up at her door tonight, you’re bound to say something you regret.”
I exhaled and dropped my head to the bar counter. He was probably right. My phone dinged. I didn’t bother looking until it dinged again. And again. And again. Damn . What? I checked my phone.
It was social media notifications. I swiped it open. I had five notifications. All from Stefanie Adams. Stefanie liked five of my old posts. I stared at the screen like it was a hallucination.
“She liked my posts,” I whispered.
Bryce leaned over. “The woman who dumped you did?”
I nodded and showed them the screen. “I think this is my sign to kidnap her,” I told them.
“Noooo,” Cas said. “This is your sign that she still wants you. But don’t go to her.”
“Why not?” I asked, confused.
“Don’t do it,” Raz said firmly. “Stay the night in the hotel upstairs. Sober up. Think this through. You’ve already made your move. You showed her that you love her. Let her prove to you that she loves you.”
“This is proof,” I said, staring down at my phone.
“No,” Bryce said. “That’s a like on your post. You get those all the time. This is different. Stay here tonight and tomorrow, we’ll help you figure out what to do next. Okay?”
I didn’t fight it. Not because I agreed, but because I was too damn tired to argue anymore. The next morning, we met up for breakfast in the private lounge. I was clear-headed. Sober. And missing Stefanie like crazy.
“You can’t go running back just because she hit a like button,” Raz said, slicing into his steak and eggs. “You need to know she’s all in. If she lets you in again, there’s no turning back. No more breakups. No more space. That’s it. You must put your foot down. You’re hers. She’s yours. End of story.”
“Put my foot down,” I said, taking mental notes. “I’m hers, she’s mine,” I whispered.
Bryce nodded. “Make her show you she’s serious. You’re not some placeholder who's going to wait around for years on her. You’re the prize.”
“I’m the prize,” I muttered.
Cas added, “And don’t call her. Don’t text her. Don’t drive by her house. That’ll make you look weak. And you’re not weak.”
“I’m not weak,” I said.
I leaned back in my chair, staring at my black coffee, hating how much sense they all made. I just wanted to go to her. I was weak. I didn’t want to put my foot down. She was the prize, not me. But my cousins were all in committed relationships with women they loved, and I wasn’t. I’d take their advice for now.
“Fine,” I muttered. “I won’t call. I won’t show up. I won’t kidnap her. But what if she reaches out to me?”
“Make her earn your love back,” Raz said. “You’re a good man. You're worth the effort.”
“Yes,” Bryce added. “And you went through a lot trying to win her heart. It’s time for her to do the same. Stay strong. Let her show you she’s not going to run off at the first sign of trouble.”
“You’ve got this,” Cas told me. “Men have to hold firm or women will run all over us.”
I nodded, mentally jotting down everything they told me. Then, one by one, their phones buzzed.
Bryce was the first to stand. “Tati’s blowing me up. I gotta go pick her, her mom, and my mom up and take them shopping for shoes. They all have closets full of shoes, but they need more because the shoes they already have aren’t wedding shoes or something like that.”
“I thought you wore the pants in your relationship,” I told him.
“I do. But Tati wears the lingerie, and lingerie trumps pants. I’m out.”
This motherfucker!
Cas smirked. “I just got a text, too. Meka’s hangry. If I don’t get her and Denver some tacos, I’m sleeping outside tonight.”
“What happened to holding firm so women don’t run all over you?” I asked Cas.
“Meka has little feet. So when she runs all over me, it doesn’t hurt. I’ll see you all later.”
This motherfucker!
Raz stood last, pulling on his jacket. “I’ve got a tux fitting, I can’t be late for.”
“You’re a good man, she should be okay with you being a little late, right?” I asked. “Plus, you’re the don.”
Raz chuckled. “I’m the don. But even the don has to bow down to his queen. I’ll call you later. Oh, and Monique said I'd better fix things with you and Stefanie before the wedding. She wants to meet your girl. So, make her earn your love. But do it before the wedding.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Most importantly, follow your heart, little cousin. If she’s the one, and you’re happy, that’s all that matters.” Raz clapped me on the shoulder and left.
I sat there alone, staring at my phone again, wondering if five liked posts were a beginning or just a tease. I guess I’d soon find out. But it better not take too fucking long because kidnapping her ass was still on the table.
***
S TEFANIE
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I HAD NEVER BEEN THE one to chase a man. But Julian was different. He was worth every ounce of vulnerability I could muster. It was my turn to fight for him. And he was making me work for it. But that was okay because I was willing to put in the work.
I sent roses to his office with a note that read: Missing you. - S.A.
I got no response. But that was okay. I wasn’t going to give up. I called him all the time. Though the calls went straight to voicemail, I didn’t get discouraged. Julian was worth fighting for. And fight for him, I would.
I texted: "Thinking about you." No reply. No problem. That night, I slipped into his shirt, the one he left behind, and snapped a selfie of me biting my lip and sent it with the caption: "Goodnight, handsome." Still nothing. But that was okay, too.
Days passed. Each morning, I sent a message: "Woke up thinking about you."
Each night: "Dreaming of you."
I poured my heart into every word, hoping he'd feel the sincerity, the longing. Nothing was working. But I didn’t let it bring me down. Then, I got bold. I posted a photo of us to social media, one from a rare candid moment, his arm around me, both of us laughing.
The caption read: He makes me smile even when I don't want to. He makes me feel loved, even when I'm at my lowest. I love this man with everything in me. I tagged him in the post. The first comment was from India: You two are so cute together. #Approved.
My heart swelled. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope. That night, I lay in bed, heart pounding, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I'd pushed too far. He didn’t comment on my post, nor did he call me.
I went to sleep wondering if he’d truly moved on from me. Sometime past midnight, the mattress dipped beside me, waking me up. I gasped, turning to find him there, eyes dark and intense.
"Julian," I whispered, reaching out to touch his face just to make sure he was real. He was. "How did you get in? I changed the code."
He smirked. "Did you really think you could keep me out after declaring your love for me to the world and tagging me?"
Tears welled up. "I'm sorry for hurting you. I hope you can forgive me. But if you can't right away, I'll wait. I'll earn back your trust."
He cupped my face, thumb brushing away a tear. "It was hard as hell not responding to your gifts and messages and not coming over. My cousins told me to wait until I was sure you were ready. That post... it told me you were."
He leaned in, lips hovering over mine. "I love you, Stefanie. I never stopped. But I'm not just coming back for a while. If you accept me, I'm here forever. No overthinking, no takebacks. Just me in your life until the day I die."
I nodded, voice trembling. "That's what I want, Julian. I want forever. No takebacks."
"Tell me you love me," he murmured.
"I love you."
He kissed me, slow and deep, then pulled back slightly. "Say it again."
"I love you."
His lips trailed down my neck, each kiss igniting a fire within me.
"Again," he whispered, voice hoarse with desire.
"I love you," I breathed, over and over, as his hands explored my body.
I gasped into the kiss, fingers clawing into his hair, dragging him closer, moaning when his weight pressed me into the mattress.
“I should’ve never let you walk away from me,” he growled against my lips. “I should’ve fucked you into the floor until you forgot your own damn name.”
My thighs clenched. “Do it now,” I whispered.
That broke him. He pulled back just enough to strip his shirt over his head, and I stared, hungry, missing the sight of him. That chest, those abs that looked like sin sculpted in marble, damn, this man was a work of art. He tossed the shirt and tore the blankets away from my body. I was already naked underneath.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “You knew I was coming.”
“I hoped,” I said, voice breathy. “I wanted to be ready just in case.”
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he growled, climbing over me, eyes locked on my pussy. “And I’m so fucking hungry.”
His hand slid between my legs, two fingers sliding into me without warning.
“Already wet,” he said with a dark grin. “Damn, baby... this pussy missed me.”
“Julian,” I whimpered.
He kissed me hard, then pulled away. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”
“You,” I gasped.
He pumped his fingers faster. “Louder.”
“You, Julian, fuck, it’s yours! I’m yours.”
He kissed down my neck, teeth nipping my shoulder before he said, “That’s right. And now I’m gonna remind you.”
He moved down my body like a man possessed, eyes dark, mouth hungry. When he reached my center, he didn’t tease. He sucked my clit into his mouth, tongue flicking over my sensitive nub, fingers fucking into me faster until I was thrashing under him, hands grabbing at the sheets, back arching like a bow.
I came with a scream, body shaking, tears in my eyes from the pleasure. But he didn’t stop. He licked me through it, groaning into my pussy like it was his final meal.
“You taste like fucking heaven,” he said, kissing my inner thigh. “But I’m not done. I want to ruin you for every man who even thinks about breathing near you.”
I barely had time to catch my breath before he was on his knees, gripping that thick, perfect cock that had stretched me better than anyone ever had. And then he was there, at my entrance.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
I did.
He thrust in hard, one brutal, delicious stroke that knocked the wind out of me.
“Shit, Julian!”
“Yeah, baby,” he said, grinding deep. “Feel that? That’s yours.”
He pulled out slowly, then slammed back into me. Again. Then again. The sound of our bodies slapping together echoed off the walls. He fucked me long and hard, going deep, making me shiver as pleasure radiated over my entire body.
I’d missed this, missed him, missed his thick cock and the way he pounded me like there was no tomorrow. He gripped my thighs, shoved them back, spreading me wide open, making my pussy bloom for him.
“You ready to come again?” he asked.
“Yes!”
“You want to feel my cum deep in that pussy?” he asked.
“Yes, please, Julian.”
“Then take it,” he groaned and pounded into me, relentless, cock dragging against every nerve inside me until I was babbling his name, nails raking down his back, crying from how full I felt, how right it felt.
I came again violently, writhing under him, and he didn’t stop. He flipped me over, dragged my hips up, and slammed back into me from behind, gripping my hair, mouth at my ear.
“Don’t ever forget who you belong to again, Stefanie Adams. And don’t ever forget that I belong to you. You got that?” he rasped.
“Yes,” I gasped, rocking back onto him, greedy for every inch. “I’ll never let go again.”
“Damn right.”
He spanked my ass, hard, and I moaned. He grabbed my throat and pulled me back into his chest, still fucking into me deep.
“I love you,” he whispered into my ear. “Say it while I’m buried in you.”
“I love you. I love you. I love you.”
He fucked me through every word, every sobbed confession, every damn apology. When he came, he buried his cock so deep inside me it felt like our souls collided. He growled my name, kissed my neck, and collapsed beside me, dragging me into his arms. We were wrecked. Sweaty. Bruised. Breathless. Blessed.
“You’re mine,” he said, voice rough.
“Always,” I whispered.
We lay there for a long time before Julian spoke again.
“Hey, I was ordered to invite you to my cousin’s wedding. Do you think you’d want to go to a wedding with me?”
“Sure,” I told him before yawning.
“You gonna catch the bouquet?” he teased.
“Do you want me to catch it?” I asked.
“Yeah. I’ve already caught you, but I still want you to catch it. I’ll point out the other ladies who’ll be trying. There’ll be Tatianna, Meka, and probably Toya. Then my sister, she’ll definitely try. A few of my cousins will, too. You can’t let them get it.”
I chuckled. “Don’t worry. That bouquet is mine, Mr. Cattaneo.”
“Just like me,” he told me before claiming my lips in another fierce kiss that led to me riding his cock until my headboard banged against the wall.
What started out with a scandalous contract ended as a love that could endure all seasons and all hardships. Julian Cattaneo taught me that true love didn’t hurt. It healed. And my daughter taught me that family didn’t always mean blood relatives. Life had never been fair to me. But when it came to love, I had to say that I was blessed.
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