20. Heaven
CHAPTER 20
HEAVEN
“M olly!”
Someone shakes me and I’m jerked out of the nightmare I thought I’d left behind even though it always hovers before sleep. But this is the first time in a long time it’s returned to sink its sharp, cold fingers into me.
Nightmare and truth.
I fight against the man who has me, gasping for breath.
“Where—I…”
Matteo shakes me again. “Heaven. You’re okay. You’re here with me.”
I suck in a sobbing lungful of air, shivering. He folds me into his arms and I sigh against him. For all he’s a man I hate, a man I lust after, a man who can make me climb to the highest peaks of pleasure while not knowing anything about him, he’s a beacon of comfort right now, and I burrow in against him.
I’m in SoHo, in Matteo’s bed. With him. It’s been two nights since our erotic encounter at his club, and more than anything, I need to hear his soothing voice right now. I need someone to fool me into believing that I’m not to blame, that I’m not the reason why she’s gone.
But I am the reason. And it’s not okay.
I don’t think it ever will be.
“No,” I whisper against his shoulder. “It isn’t okay at all.”
“Tell me what happened,” he says, trailing his fingertips down the sides of my face.
Maybe it’s because we’ve been so intimate, more intimate than I’ve ever been with anyone in my life. He’s stripped me down to my soul, infiltrated my blood and bones, and though it’s two days, it’s been more than sex.
The shift from the morning in Conor’s office has changed things, and while Matteo’s been just as hard and unyielding in so many ways, there are moments of sweet clarity, when he looks at me with something that makes my heart tumble instead of my libido.
Maybe we can make something of this union, like my aunt said. I don’t know. All I know is I need him here, I need the strength of him, that peculiar softness I sometimes taste beneath the steel and ice. The warmth of embers beneath the searing blaze.
I need him.
I need…someone. I don’t have friends. Not really, my world isn’t a world built for friends. It’s all alliances and enemies and waiting.
But Matteo…he’s going to marry me, whether I want that or not, and in the last two days I’ve softened to that. There are worse arrangements than him. And if I must be in a loveless union, I’ll take passion and the odd glimpse of sweetness. I’ll take him.
“ Amore mio? Please talk to me.”
So I do. I recount the horrifying memories that pop between my temples like bullets for Matteo. I tell him everything that happened the night she was taken.
“Molly,” he repeats once I finish. “Like your family’s pub?”
I nod, swiping at my damp eyes. “Yes, we renamed it after her, after...everything. After my failure.”
“ Tesoro , it’s not your fault she was taken. It sounds like you did what you could?—”
“I watched her get raped. I watched them drug her and drag her into a car!”
“Not even you could have taken on an armed group of men,” he says. “You never should have gone after them, not knowing what they might do to you if they had the chance.”
I melt into him as he strokes my back. “Conor would have saved her.”
“Bullshit,” Matteo says. “You don’t believe that, and neither do I. Don’t ever fucking compare yourself to him.”
“He’d have had a gun. He could have defended himself. I had, what? Two shoes?”
“You managed to stab one of them.”
“It didn’t do Molly any good.”
He falls silent for a long time and I don’t need to ask what he’s thinking. I know. He’s thinking Conor would have fucked it all up, and he might be right. I keep playing all the different ‘what-if’ games when it all crashes over me, but I’ve never shared my thoughts with anyone in the family. It hurts everyone too much.
So I keep everything to myself. I’ve never shared any of it, not even with Patty. He worshiped Molly. And I love my brother, so upsetting him by rehashing something he wasn’t anywhere near—and yeah, he’s blamed the fuck out of himself for Molly because he was too young to be with us—isn’t high on my list of things to do. Quinn and Niall were angry and full of teenage emotions and talking about it sparks that all over again. My aunt gets upset to the point she can’t do anything, and Dad?
He shuts down or rants.
Matteo is the first person who’s listened quietly, calmly, and let me talk. And…and I soften a little, deep inside, because of that.
There really is more to this man than I ever thought.
“Did you ever find out why they targeted her?” he asks. “Or get any intel?”
“Her father broke up a sex-trafficking ring those assholes ran out of the Grand Canal Dock in Dublin. They got revenge by taking his daughter.”
“What happened to her?”
My shoulders slump. “She was never found. It keeps me up most nights, wondering what happened to her, where she went, if she’s still alive. But as hard as everyone tried, we couldn’t find her. It’s like the Earth swallowed her up.”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “But amore mio , you need to stop beating yourself up. It doesn’t do anyone any good, and trust me, it doesn’t bring anyone back. You were only eighteen. You didn’t know how to?—”
“But I should have! When we were in Dublin on that summer break, I’d found out my father was going to choose Conor over me. It just made things that much worse that I’d let Molly get taken. After that, I figured my chances at leading the family were nil.”
I sound like that’s all I care about. It’s not. Far from it. But it’s all I’ve got.
“I get it. I do. But that’s not how things turned out,” Matteo says. “You and Conor are on the same level. You have the same amount of power.”
“After Molly was taken, the decision was for both of us to support Dad. But since Dublin, Conor’s battled me, looking for a shot to take me out.” I let out a bitter laugh. “I guess he finally figured out how. All he needed to do was kill a cartel lieutenant and boom! His competition gets married off, and the thorn in his side removed.”
“I don’t think you see it clearly, Heaven,” he says with a smile. “Stepping in was my decision. Because of you. Conor got himself a world of trouble by killing Santos. Your brother’s an egotistical asshole with something to prove. He’s too stupid to do something that strategic. And it’s not even strategic. There are too many variables at play. No way did your family know I’d take the offer. You were my deal breaker, no one else’s. If Declan hadn’t agreed, I’d have walked. You give Conor more credit than he deserves.”
His words floor me. I thought I was nothing more than a pawn, something to palm off on this man so my brother would be safe. And though he doesn’t say anything for me to think differently, there’s a note in his voice, a quiet fierceness that says he wanted me. Chose me.
I’ve seen the things this man has. The power. While I’m not privy to the day-to-day of his world, even in this short time I’ve seen the difference in how people treat me. He wants to merge with us because I know Hell’s Kitchen and the ties our family have made hold more power than we do as players on the mafia board.
What’s the thing people say about New York restaurants? If you removed all the dishwashers and bus boys and all the under-the-table payments, the entire system would collapse. We’re not quite as important, but we’re similar. Small, but with a power greater than the sum of its parts. The big names, bigger than Dad, would struggle without the grease from the Mulligans.
A man as smart and as ruthless as Matteo would see that. Does see that. So, he chose me.
But it strikes me he didn’t have to. Dominguez is frightening enough, dirty enough, wild enough that to protect Conor, me and my brothers, Dad would have given Matteo half the business without giving me up. But offering me to Matteo means Dad keeps the business in the family. It cuts into the power Matteo could take.
And he chose me.
At least, I think this is what happened.
I want to ask him, but I don’t. I’m already in emotional overload and sitting with this sudden understanding is enough. And I can see Matteo in a slightly different light now.
“You have this look on your face like you had some kind of epiphany, Heaven.”
“I’m just thinking about what you said, in choosing me.”
“And what is it you’re thinking, amore mio ?”
“Just thinking. Thinking there’s more to you.”
“Ah, flattery.”
I glare up but he’s smiling, and there’s concern there in his face, too. I take a breath. “And this whole thing…” I sweep a hand in the air before bringing it back to rest on his naked, warm chest. It’s a beautiful work of art, his chest. All of him is. “All the pain and suffering and everything. I don’t want to sit here and moan about my stupid brother. I am smarter than him. And I guess I want to do something so Molly didn’t die in vain. If she really is dead.”
I need to add that last part, because there’s a stubborn corner of me that won’t accept it until I see the receipts.
“And now there’s all this, and I don’t know what to think. That’s what I’m thinking.”
“You have to trust me, Heaven. I’m going to protect you, just as I was instructed to do. And I’ll make sure you get everything you deserve.”
My shoulders slump, and I let out a sigh. “Sometimes when I think back on my life and what’s happened over the past few years, I wonder if I already have.”
“Things change, Heaven. Always. But you with me keeps you safe. And your brother’s going to find out how much power we can both wield.”
I almost laugh. I haven’t decided if I want that. Then again, I don’t have a choice. But right now, in the darkness, with him holding me, it looks different.
Better.
Maybe something I can and want to do.
With him.
“Maybe,” I say, drawing a pattern on his chest. “Maybe I’m willing to do that.”
“Maybe you’re willing to do a whole lot of things,” he whispers, his breath hot against my cheek. “Like take pleasure in the now.”
“I need to forget,” I say as he pushes me back down on the mattress.
“You’re so fucking hot, Heaven. I can’t get enough.”
I part my thighs for him, gazing up. “And what about you, Matteo? There’s a story with the random cryptic comments you keep making. You said?—”
“Later, amore mio.” He shakes his head, angling himself over me, a look of intensity shadowing his features. The head of his cock grazes my pussy. I lick the palm of my hand and grasp the thick shaft, using long strokes to massage his length.
“Later?”
“I’ve got better things to do right now.” And he takes my mouth in a searing kiss as he thrusts into my hand, his fingers on me, pushing into me. “Ah, you’re so fucking wet.”
He pulls my hand away and slams into me to the hilt and I cry out.
A part of me wanted sweetness.
But I needed this.
Hard, hot. The bad memories fucked out of me for a little while.
I wrap my thighs about his narrow hips and meet him thrust for thrust. We fuck wildly, his cock filling me, my pussy pulsating around him with small orgasms as he bottoms out, hitting me just right inside, and they build and build until I scream out his name, coming hard.
Matteo keeps drilling me, harder, faster, like he needs to fuck his demons away and I love it. Again, the need and pleasure builds and as he comes, spurting into me, his hot seed filling me, I orgasm again.
He collapses down on me, staying burrowed inside me. I love the stretch, the fullness. And I want him like that forever.
Oh, dear God, am I developing feelings for this man? It’s too soon to think that, all I know is my heart beats hard and fast when he looks at me in a certain way. My pulse flutters when he touches me, and when he holds me, I want to stay there forever.
I’ve had boyfriends. I’ve fucked guys, but this? I’ve never had this.
He starts to move again and I realize with shock he’s still hard.
Matteo drags his hard cock out of my pussy, grazing my clit, and then my G-spot with each push back in. It’s slow-burn sex. Controlled. Each thrust hits long and deep and he takes his time, kissing me, touching me, stroking against my skin as he goes. And it’s a revelation. I’m spiraling. Up and up. It’s like pleasure is a golden sea that builds and builds with undulating waves, each bigger, better, brighter than the last. The sensations course through me and I come again, a sweet wave radiating out, overtaking every cell, and I succumb to the bliss flooding me.
Matteo drops next to me on the bed with a contented sigh, lying his head right next to mine. He drapes a muscular arm over me. “Heaven. My love,” he mutters as he closes his eyes and falls asleep.
And suddenly, I can breathe again. My God, I feel more alive than I ever thought possible.
Because of a man whom I was ordered to marry.
A man whom I hated because of all he took from me.
A man I was convinced I’d despise forever.
Now he’s the man I want to get to know. He doesn’t love me. I don’t love him. But maybe I could. Maybe that’s what this feeling is, falling in love. I don’t know. All I know is I think I’m ready to give this a chance, give him a chance. It’s all I have, all I can do, and he fills something inside me I didn’t know I needed filling, something deep in my soul, my heart.
Is it wrong to feel that? When such a horrible thing happened to my cousin, with everything?
As he sleeps, oblivious to the terrible guilt that flirts with me, I can’t shake the feeling something is waiting.
Something bad.
I just hope it isn’t like that moment I can’t keep from memory, that moment before I went out with Molly that night, where under all the angst and anger, the same tingle of darkness slithered inside like it does now.
I’m probably just being dramatic.
Then again, the life we lead…
If there is a chance for me, for me and Matteo, then I hope we can survive long enough to see where it takes us.