Chapter 10
Emma
W e were exhausted, barely standing up from the rush of escaping danger. The satisfaction of coming swept through me, rendering me melted and lazy. If he wasn’t holding me up against the shower stall, I would’ve dropped to the floor.
I kissed his cheek, hating that it was marred with a small scrape. His whole body was littered with cuts and bruises. He’d been to hell and back, it seemed, surviving against all the odds of the night, and he still had the strength to hold me up and fuck me so hard that I ceased to think.
I did now. As I came down from the high of my orgasm, I realized how badly he was suffering.
“Let me help,” I said as I moved for him to let me down. His dick slipped out of me, and I regretted the absence of him filling me already. He was big, and it burned when he stretched me, but it was the most delicious sensation ever. I tingled all over as the remnants of my bliss tapered off, and I was glad that I could stand on steady feet.
Together, we cleaned each other up. I tended to his cuts and was gentle with his tenderest spots. Then he did the same for me. As he cleared off the blood and made sure I was clean, his scowl deepened. Each sign of an injury marking my body seemed to anger him more, but I refused to let him wallow in that fury.
He had to rest. We both did. With persistent reminders that I was fine now, with him, I urged him to stay calmer. Kissing him jarred him back to the present, but neither of us could go for another round of sex, hard or not.
We got out of the shower together, and after we dried off, we searched for clothes.
“There’s got to be something around here.”
I followed him through the small house, glad that his friend’s family stocked the place up with the bare minimum—clothes, a first-aid kit, and water bottles. We didn’t find any clothes that fit me, but I rolled up the waistband of sweatpants and tied a huge t-shirt at my side. They covered me, even though the fabric strained on Luke’s massive body. Once we’d dressed, we took turns bandaging each other’s cuts and scrapes.
By the time we figured this was the best we could manage, we were both one foot away from passing out.
He took my hand, yawning and stumbling in his sleepy steps. Led toward the bedroom, I finally gave in.
Only now could I relax. Only with him nestled against me in bed could I surrender to the pull of sleep. So I did. We both dozed quickly, and with his strong arms wrapped around me, his hard body like a wall as he spooned me, I slept well into the afternoon the next day.
He groaned, sitting up when I stirred. If I was stiff and sore from what I’d endured yesterday, he had to be doubly aching.
“I’ll get the water and painkillers,” I said as I got up to use the bathroom.
Letting out a deep yawn, he nodded and sat up. “Thank you. We’ll need to get some food, too.”
Once I finished in the bathroom, my stomach growled, as if on cue with his words. “How long do you think we can be here? Safely?”
He shrugged, accepting the water and swallowing the painkillers. When he was done, he held out his arms, beckoning me back into bed. I stood, though, drinking more water and swallowing down a couple of Tylenol first.
“No clue,” he admitted as I crawled back in to lie with him. “I don’t think anyone’s going to be coming here and demanding that we move out. Randy made it sound like this place hadn’t been used in a long time, but it was here as a backup if anyone needed to hide.”
“Going by the expiration dates on the protein bars we found in the kitchen, no one’s been here for a couple of years.”
He sighed, relaxing against me. His face stayed pressed against the top of my head, and I smiled when he inhaled deeply. Like he was sniffing me.
“If we’re going to consider what our next move might be, you’re going to have to fill me in on a little more of this mafia drama,” he said. His tone was sober, but he wasn’t demanding. “I’ve waded into a lot more than what I’d prefer to bargain with. Jimmy’s tightlipped about telling me anything. And I can’t tell if I’d trust him anyway.”
I peered up at him, stroking my hand over his face. “But you trust me?”
He replied by kissing me deeply. With his hand on the small of my back, he pressed me closer. “With my life, Emmalina.”
I let a sly smile lift my lips. “I like it when you say my name.”
He growled lightly, peppering my face with gentle, tender brushes of his lips. “I love you, Emmalina.”
I closed my eyes, basking in the warmth of his love. This wasn’t another prologue to making love. He kept it sweet and delicate, and I treasured this softer side to him all the more.
“I love you, too,” I said once he pulled back. “And I trust you with my life as well. But I’m not sure that I have any answers for you either, at least no answers about what we can do now.”
“We’ll stay together, for one.” He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles, just above where his ring sat.
“Yes, but I’m not sure how.” I frowned, thinking back to what he’d said. “Why don’t you trust Jimmy?”
He arched one brow. “Do I need another reason other than the fact that he’s lied to me my whole life? And withheld the truth that he’s my uncle and my father is a mafia boss?”
“I imagine he hid you to keep you safe.”
“Explain.”
“Marlo Rossini was once considered the boss. All three of our families have operated in Florida for many years. I’m talking generational power, back to the first colonies and settlements. That’s how far back a lot of the power struggles went, and once immigration kicked in, the powers were shifted into three main families taking over. Marlo Rossini had a fortune and vast spread of influence, but he’s managed it poorly—at least according to all that I’ve heard over the years.
“I try not to pay attention to the politics. No one ever expects me to listen in and no one will ever defer to me. I’m a woman. A thing. Half of a transaction in an arranged engagement and counted on doing nothing but bearing sons for my husband.”
He kissed me. “Not anymore.”
I smiled, playful. “You don’t want a son?”
He grinned. “I do. As many as you’ll give me. Daughters, too. We’ll figure that out, Emma. All I can promise is that you’re my future.”
It warmed my heart to know that he wanted a family. With his limited resources and only having his mother all his life, it made sense that he’d enjoy the idea of having kids and a wife. He never had a family, so now he’d have a chance to make his own. Like many other women my age, I yearned for a baby. My biological clock was ticking, but I trained myself to dread becoming a mother, assuming my baby would be Antonio’s child to exploit.
“How did Marlo lose power?”
I shrugged, unsure of the details. “More infighting happened among Rossini soldiers. Properties were abandoned or left in pieces after attacks.”
He made a noise of agreement. “The Rossini mansion I snuck into looked like it’d been neglected for a long time.”
“Maybe because he’d neglected his health, too. Over the years, he seemed to get weaker and stay hidden more.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“I don’t know. Rumors vary. Some say it’s cancer, others claim it’s an autoimmune disease. No one really knows.”
“If Marlo’s dying and losing power, why wouldn’t Jimmy step up? As his brother, wouldn’t he be next in line to take charge?”
“You’re right that power transfers through family, but it never sounded like Marlo respected Jimmy. It might be that he didn’t want his younger brother to have his power. I only met Jimmy once, many years ago at a funeral. I think I was ten? I don’t know him well, but I am aware of what he looks like and who he is.”
“He’s a secretive bastard too, always hiding. He was the one who ‘found’ me and started training me to fight.” He grunted. “Well, he’s always known me. It sounds like my mom counted on his help when I was born.”
“And Marlo doesn’t know about you?”
“They claim he doesn’t. Jimmy’s adamant that I don’t tell anyone either. At the fight, he was freaking out about anyone knowing my secret.”
“Think about the ramifications of it, though. If Antonio or my father knew you existed, that Marlo has an heir, you’d have an immediate target on your back.”
He smirked. “You mean I don’t have one already for meeting you and falling in love with you?”
“They don’t care about love. But yes, you’ve earned their wrath by upsetting the arrangement for me to be engaged to Antonio.”
“That’s too fucking bad.” He hugged me closer.
“If they knew that you were the next in line to get the Rossini wealth and power, though...” I furrowed my brow. “They send out every one of their assassins to get you out of the way. My father and the Marcheses are hellbent on aligning. The engagement and marriage between me and Antonio would serve as proof, evidence of our union as families. And once Marlo dies, without a recognized heir... They’d claim what remained of the Rossini family and lord over the whole area.”
“Wait.” He frowned deeper. “What about Jimmy? Wouldn’t he get the Rossini power if I wasn’t revealed as Marlo’s son? Does it have to pass father to son?”
“No, but maybe there are stipulations that Marlo enacted. All I know is that Jimmy has been operating as a right-hand man for Marlo over the last ten years. That’s what it sounds like according to my father and the Marchese men. But they don’t ever see him as a threat. As someone they’d need to worry about after Marlo is gone.”
“Why?” He shook his head. “Jimmy’s not a weak man. He’s not a pushover.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I think we need to find out. Because fuck this shit. If Jimmy could take over after Marlo dies, then what does he need me for?”
My brows shot up so high and quickly that it tugged on the skin along my jaw, making it hurt from my father’s hit. “Are you suggesting that you don’t step out as Marlo’s son?”
He shrugged. “Does it look like I want any part of this mafia bullshit?”
I scowled. “ I’m part of this mafia bullshit.” I was stuck in the middle of it all.
“Only until you become my wife.”
I rolled my eyes, unamused. “That’s not how it works. It’s not like you can just erase who I was. My past. I am the daughter of Damon Giordino and always will be.”
“Maybe you can let him think he has control over your life like that, but I swear, Emma. When you marry me, I will do everything in my power to make sure you are in control of your life.”
I’d never heard more beautiful words. Yet, my doubts remained.
“Okay, but you can’t sweep who you are under the rug either. You’re Marlo’s son, and so long as the danger is there that someone could find out, you’re not in control of anything either.”
“I’m in control of choosing you.” He lifted my hand, emphasizing the ring. “And you were in control of choosing me. We will make this work, Emma.”
I appreciated how adamant he was about us staying together, but I wished we could have a clear strategy to make that happen. Too many people wanted us apart. So many obstacles stood in our way toward a happily ever after.
He kissed me, soft and sweet, like sealing the promise on our lips.
“We will figure this out, Emma. Because under no circumstances will I give up on you.”
I nodded, unable to shake off this dread and worry. I wanted to believe him. I wished I could be this optimistic. Talking about all the enemies we had sharpened the focus on how hopeless it seemed. How challenging and impossible it would be to forge a future on our terms, no one else’s.
“I will never give up on us.”
I stared into his eyes, knowing deep down in my heart that I wouldn’t either. I would love him and stand by him until my last breath, but I worried that this determination would get me to the end of our lives prematurely.
He’d already escaped a hit. He survived the fight that Antonio had rigged against him, having his man bring a weapon into the ring.
Another attempt would come soon, and I prayed that we’d survive that one—all of them—until all we had to focus on was love.