Salvatore #3
Valentina's eyes light up when she sees it, ice cream already melting into warm chocolate. She dives in immediately, closing her eyes on the first bite like it's a religious experience.
"Aren't you going to have any of this brownie à la mode?" she asks, holding up a spoonful.
"No. I don't do dessert."
"What do you mean you don't do dessert? Everyone does dessert." She waves the spoon at me. "You should try it."
"I'm not everyone."
"Salvatore." She scoots closer, spoon still extended. "Here, take a bite."
"No."
"Come on, please. Open up." Her voice goes playful, teasing. I watch her with dark amusement, letting her think she's getting somewhere.
"Valentina—"
Then she brings her face close to mine, lips almost touching like she's about to kiss me. I lean in, anticipating it, and she shoves the spoon in my mouth instead.
The taste of chocolate and vanilla hits my tongue, but all I can focus on is the triumphant gleam in her eyes.
"You're going to pay for that," I growl, setting the spoon aside.
"Oh yeah? What are you going to—Salvatore!"
I grab her waist and pull her onto my lap, fingers finding her ribs. She squeals, laughing and squirming as I tickle her mercilessly.
"Stop! Stop, I'm sorry!" But she's laughing too hard to sound sorry at all.
"Apologize properly."
"I'm… stop, I'm sorry!"
I relent, but I don't let her go. Instead, I wrap both arms around her, pulling her tight against my chest. Her laughter fades into something softer, breathless. She tilts her head back to look at me, and I see the walls coming down, the anger dissolving.
She leans in and presses a kiss to my chest, right over my heart. The gesture is so simple, so sweet, it hits me harder than I expect.
I brush my lips against her forehead. "I'm sorry, baby. It won't happen again."
She's quiet for a moment, then nods against me. "Okay."
"I mean it."
"I know." She shifts in my lap.
We settle again, the moment easing into something even more natural than before. I hold her close, and she melts against me, her body soft and trusting.
We start talking about everything and nothing.
She tells me about her book, a mystery about a lost edition, which sounds exactly like the kind of book she'd be into.
In return, I tell her about my brothers.
Dante and his shadows. Matteo and his numbers.
Raffaele and his darkness, and Elio and all his women.
What it means to be the don. To carry everything.
"You know," she says softly, "you can turn it off when you're with me. You don't have to carry everything all the time."
I let out a quiet breath. "Turn it off?" I shake my head slightly. "I don't think I know how to do that."
My thumb brushes over her hand, slow, absent.
"But…" I glance at her, something honest slipping through. "I do know that I'm different when I'm with you. Lighter. Like I don't have to be… all of it."
A pause.
"With you, I can just be whoever I am in that moment."
"You know why I was so upset about the woman?" she says, her voice quieter now, stripped of its usual edge. "My ex used to cheat on me… all the time. It made me feel so insecure."
She swallows, her gaze dropping for a second before she forces it back up to mine.
"So seeing Mia… she's beautiful. Perfect, really. And I just," she lets out a small, shaky breath. "I guess it made me feel like I wasn't enough."
For a moment, I don't say anything.
I just look at her.
Then I reach for her. My hand comes up to her face, my thumb brushing just beneath her eye.
"Look at me, Valentina."
She does.
"There is no world where you are not enough." My voice is low, steady. Certain. "Not for me."
My grip tightens just slightly, just enough that she feels it. Feels me.
"And don't ever compare yourself to her again," I add, quieter now, but sharper. "Mia is nothing. She was nothing before you, and she's nothing now. Not to me."
I tilt her chin up just a little more.
"You think I want perfect?" I murmur. "I want you. Your mouth. Your attitude. The way you fight me like you think you might win."
A faint smirk touches my lips.
"You don't get replaced, Valentina." My thumb traces her bottom lip. "You get claimed."
I lean in, stopping just short of her mouth. She leans in and kisses me.
And for a moment… it all feels simple.
Normal.
Real.
Like we're actually building something instead of just playing roles.
"Thank you," she says softly. "For the tea. For listening. For not being a complete asshole about all of this."
I pull her against me, one arm around her waist, and we just sit there a little while longer, until I decide to walk her back to her room.
"See you later, in my bed?" I ask before walking away.
"Do I have a choice?"
"You always have a choice, Tesoro." My smile is sheepish.
"See you later, Salvatore."
I wait up for her, and when she climbs into my bed, I make love to her. Slowly, deeply. Every moan, every scream, every time she digs her nails into my back and arches beneath me, it's all mine. All ours.
And when she falls asleep in my arms afterward, her body curved into mine, her breathing soft and even, I know one thing for certain,
I'm never letting her go.