67. Angelo
67
ANGELO
Luca Russo
She received another offer of marriage last night.
She said no, but …
Valentin Rochefort
Why the fuck won’t she just tell us she’ll stay?
Io
Because you’re a coldhearted asshole.
I immediately regretted my unkindness to Valentin and sent another message.
IO
Because she doesn’t feel secure yet.
Luca Russo
You idiots better get your fucking acts together, or we’re going to lose her.
“Hi,” I said to Ana, interrupting her while she worked to untangle my brother’s accounts, feeling stupid as I towered over her.
She looked up at me and pushed her gleaming hair out of her eyes. Extraordinary what a difference a few weeks of eating right and pampering could do.
“I need your help,” I admitted, my voice quiet as I grimaced. “Your advice,” I corrected. She’d allowed me to dote on her for the past weeks, but she hadn’t let me get close, much to my chagrin. Her bold assassination of Boris Tchérnov had kept competitors for her hand away for a brief period, but the piranhas were circling, and marriage was the only tool we had to truly keep her safe.
Fuck. We needed to convince her to stay with us, and quickly.
“Why can’t Enzo answer your questions?” she asked.
I snorted. “Enzo’s great at knocking heads together. He doesn’t know shit about the contracts Gio signed or how much he invested.”
“And you think I do?”
“I think you know what questions to ask the lawyers and the accountants,” I answered. “Let me take you out to dinner, please. I swear I’m not asking for anything more.”
“Dinner between equals,” she said, lifting her chin.
I wanted to tell her to drop to her knees and apologize, that if I wanted to dress her and feed her and fucking take care of her, then that’s exactly what I’d do.
And then she’d never speak to me again. I wouldn’t just lose her for myself, but for all three of us.
“Va bene ,” I said. “Dinner from a man who wants to take a beautiful woman out.”
She laughed and relaxed, closing her laptop before she stood up.
“A man who wants to take care of his angel.”
Her breath caught, but she didn’t protest, just squeezed her fingers where they curled around my bicep. “Do I have time to change first?”
My cock instantly hardened at the thought of my angel naked, water running over her body, getting pretty for me.
“Fuck yes, angel,” I growled at her, only for her to stop in her tracks.
“Alone, Angelo,” she said, her voice dry, even if her posture was stiff as a board.
When Ana walked out fifteen minutes later, she took my breath away. She’d drawn her long blonde hair back into a French braid and wore a pretty green sundress and sneakers. Her skin glowed, and she looked younger and more carefree than I’d ever seen her before.
“Angel,” I rasped as I stood and held out my arms, thanking god when she walked straight into them, allowing me to wrap her in my embrace and run my nose over the top of her head, inhaling the citrus scent of her shampoo.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered against the side of her head.
I loved this woman so fucking much.
The words stuck in my throat as I stared at her.
I loved her.
I loved her, and I had to find a way to convince her to stay.
Ana let me tangle my fingers in hers, holding her hand in the elevator. I opened the door to the waiting SUV for her, and she blushed, refusing to meet my eyes. My fingers itched to reach over and buckle her in. I resisted the impulse for a moment, then gave in, reaching over her to snap her seatbelt into place.
When my fingers brushed against the bare skin of her shoulder, satin and warm, she gasped, and I looked up to find her lips parted and her eyes wide, cheeks flushed the prettiest fucking pink I’d ever seen.
“Angelo,” she murmured as I dragged the seatbelt across her torso, my knuckles scraping along the fabric of her dress, absorbing the radiant heat of her body before sliding along her thigh until the buckle latched into place.
I stood up, leaving one hand on her hip, no longer pretending this was anything but my desperate need to touch the woman I loved. She placed her hand on top of mine, holding me in place with her gentle touch.
Unable to resist, I cupped her cheek, stroking my thumb over her cheekbone and wanting nothing more than to lean in and kiss her. She licked her lips and fuck. I had to resist. She left me. She wanted space. And even if every cell in my body was screaming for me to slam the door shut and chain her up so she would never leave me again, she’d just escape. I had to convince Ana she wanted to stay.
Fuck! The Russo kid was the one with the charming words.
I leaned my forehead against hers, relishing the contact between us as we shared breaths, short and shallow, both of us aching with need.
When I pulled away, her fingers tightened over mine before releasing them suddenly, as if she’d realized she was holding onto me, and didn’t want to.
“ Bene ,” I muttered, adjusting my pants to accommodate my hard-on.
A moment later, I slid into the seat beside her and gave the name of the restaurant to the driver.
Ana looked at me with surprise, but her lips curved into a soft smile, and I knew I’d made the right choice.
We sat in silence, inches apart from one another in the back seat, my fingers itching to reach out to her, to touch her and drag her against me and remind her who she belonged to.
Me.
Valentin.
And the Russo whelp.
She kept glancing at me sideways, as if I weren’t paying attention to every movement and wouldn’t notice. I loved it.
I loved that she missed me, even if she would never admit it.
We pulled up to the tiny Italian restaurant, run by Salvadorian immigrants with cartel connections but none to the mafia. Luca’s intelligence told me she came here for the cannoli, and once again, I found myself in the uncomfortable position of gratitude for his selflessness. There wasn’t a jealous bone in his body when it came to Valentin and me.
“Don’t you dare,” I snarled at my woman when she moved to open her door.
When I opened it, her smile was so sweet, I could have brought her the moon. Was this what it took? Was this what she needed? Not control, but seduction? My heart cracked as I realized I might not be able to give her what she needed.
Ana took my hand to descend from the vehicle, and I tucked it into the crook of my elbow, determined to stay on my best behavior, even if I growled at the host for eyeing her up and down before seating us at a tiny table in a secluded corner.
I snatched the menu out of her hands, intending to order for her, only to be faced with a raised eyebrow and her hand held out so she could take it back.
Right.
Equals, the whelp had said, exhorting Valentin and I to find a way to convince her to stay.
“Angel, we can be equals at the same time that you let me take care of you,” I said, holding the menu to my chest.
“I don’t want to be taken care of,” Ana said as she folded her hands into her lap.
Liar. But I wasn’t here to fight with her. I was here to figure out how to deal with the damn lawyers. And convince her to stay with us.
Silently, I handed her menu back to her.
“ Grazie ,” she murmured, looking up at me through her long lashes and smiling mischievously.
I twisted my lips in wry amusement. “You already know what you want.”
She nodded. “If I tell you I went on a date, will you promise not to murder the man who brought me here?”
“No,” I said shortly, jealousy making it impossible for me to think, even if I knew it happened long before I’d barreled back into her life.
“It was a disaster,” she said.
“Stop talking, Ana,” I growled. “Please. I cannot—” The thought of another man taking her out to dinner, picking out her food, paying for a date was killing me.
I reached my hand out across the table, palm out, unused to asking for what I needed from my lovers. When she placed hers in mine, I instantly relaxed. I needed her. And was an ask so different than a command, if she did it anyway?
When I would have ordered a bottle of wine, Ana demurred.
“Are you going to let me pay for dinner?” I asked her curiously.
“I can’t afford to do otherwise,” she admitted quietly. “Not yet.”
“Angel—”
“You said you needed my help?” she asked, sipping her sparkling water and ignoring the bread like a true Italian—it was meant to be eaten with food.
“Your father’s lawyer and his accountant are assholes,” I said.
Ana shrugged. “Yes. But you’re a bigger one, so what’s the problem?”
I pressed my lips together, unwilling to admit that I didn’t even know what questions to ask. I’d spent my life as my father’s enforcer—knocking heads together, murdering in his name, and had only a surface idea of how the money actually worked.
“Your father left a mess of legal and illegal investments, businesses, bank accounts, documented payroll and under the table payments, properties in his name and your mother’s. And yours.”
“Mine?”
“You’re not as poor a church mouse as you think. The trust only gave me your father’s investments, nothing your mother left to you, and nothing he’d already registered in your name,” I told her. “But the lawyers will only touch the legal stuff, and the accountant is only familiar with the money, and I can’t figure it out on my own.”
“And you want my help?”
“How do I make the lawyers do their jobs?”
Our first course arrived, and I reluctantly released Ana’s hand so she could eat.
What I wanted to do was yank her into my lap and feed her myself, watching her wrap those gorgeous pink lips around my fork, knowing she relied on me and me alone for sustenance, and that I would give her anything she fucking needed. What I did instead was watch her eat, my pants tight as fuck, as she made soft noises of appreciations for the primo .
“This is amazing,” she said, her eyes soft and sweet as she looked at me. “Thank you.”
“Stop thanking me,” I growled. “It’s my pleasure to make you happy.”
Ana set down her fork and looked at me for long enough that I wondered if I’d said the wrong thing. “My father kept everything in his head. He never had a consigliere or a true second-in-command.”
“And you’re saying I need one.”
“I’m saying that you can’t rely on lawyers and accountants you pay by the hour to figure this shit out for you.”
“Could you?” I asked her, not bothering to mask the hope in my voice.
“You need someone you can trust,” she said softly as she moved her chair back to the table. “Someone who’s not a Costa but knows the organization inside and out.”
“That’s you, angel. Only you.”
She closed her eyes and set both hands on the table, taking deep breaths. When she opened them, the emerald depths shimmered with unshed tears.
“Please don’t do this to me, Angelo.”
“The Costas need you, angel. I need you.”
“So I can untangle your books and build your empire back,” she answered bitterly. “And make a strong alliance so that the empire can flourish.”
“Fuck! No, Ana! I need you because—” I need you because I love you. Because I’m miserable without you. But I couldn’t force the words out.
Ana stood.
I reached for her, only for her to step backward, her face made of stone, giving nothing away.
“Don’t,” she snapped. My gut churned with the knowledge that I’d hurt her, the opposite of what I’d hoped to accomplish today.
“Ana” I snapped, then stopped myself before I could give her the command threatening to slip out. “I’m sorry,” I said instead. Her eyes snapped to mine but revealed nothing about her inner thoughts. “I’m trying,” I continued.
“Try harder.” Her voice was ice cold, but she took her seat again.
Why couldn’t I just tell her I loved her?
Because what if she didn’t love me back?
We sat in silence until dessert arrived. Before she could dip into her cannoli, I took her hand again. “Ana, I’m so proud of you.”
She tugged her hand away but handed me her spoon—a precious gift I didn’t intend to waste. “Thank you. That means a lot.” After a long pause, she added, “Daddy,” with a sly smile, and while I did not come in my pants, I was sure I was staining them with precum.
“Ana—angel.”
She wrapped my fingers around her spoon and pushed her plate toward me. “I need this too,” she admitted. “For just a few moments, before I have to go back to the house and feel more alone than I did when I was with Boris.”
“I hate that you feel that way.” Can’t you tell we love you? That we want you to stay with us forever? That we’d do anything to keep you?
I dipped the spoon into the dessert, cracking through the fried shell, and fed her a bite, watching her lips wrap around the spoon, wishing it were my cock. When I raised my thumb to wipe away a spot of cream at the corner of her mouth, her breath turned ragged.
Bite by bite, I fed her, savoring every moment that she allowed me to satisfy my needs and hers. Her tongue poked out to lick her lips and I groaned, wanting nothing more than to lean over and kiss her, nibble on her lips and suck her tongue into my mouth, to fucking claim her like she’d claimed me.
I drew out the meal as long as I could, but she eventually asked me to take her home so she could sleep.
Guilt wormed through my heart. I’d exhausted her so I could selfishly enjoy the pleasure of her company for a little bit longer.
“Just one more bite,” I exhorted her.
“And if I don’t?”
I didn’t dignify that with a response. “What happens to sweet angels who don’t do what they’re told?”
Ana laughed, the sound joyous and beautiful, cutting through the tangles in my soul. “Not a fucking thing, Angelo. Not anymore.”