Chapter 17 Stefan #2
"I don't know." His hand shook slightly around his glass. "I keep waiting for someone to say it was a mistake. That we're actually convicted and this is just... I don't know. A dream. Something my brain invented to cope with the reality of losing everything."
"It's real. You're here. You're staying here. The verdict was not guilty on everything that mattered."
"We have a future." He said it like he was testing the words. Seeing if they sounded real when spoken aloud. "An actual future. Not prison. Not decades apart. Not you waiting while I rot in federal custody. Just... us."
"Just us," I confirmed. Kissed him right there at the table. "We get to have this. We get to keep each other."
Across the table, Luca laughed—slightly manic, stress releasing. "I thought we were done. I genuinely thought Walsh had us. That evidence was solid."
"It was solid," Elio said. His usual composure was cracked. Vulnerability showing through. "If the jury had believed Vincent completely instead of questioning his credibility... if they hadn't found reasonable doubt in the surveillance warrants..."
"But they did," Sandro cut in. His voice was firm. Anchoring. The kingmaker taking control even in the midst of his own trauma. "They had reasonable doubt. Diana gave them that doubt. And we won. That's what matters."
They drank to that. To winning. To Diana's brilliant defense. To reasonable doubt saving them from life sentences.
But I could see it would take time for the fear to fully leave them. Months of thinking you're about to lose everything doesn't disappear because of one verdict. The trauma lingers even in victory.
"How long until you believe it's real?" I asked Matteo.
"I don't know. Maybe when we actually get sentenced to probation in two weeks.
Maybe when I wake up for the hundredth morning in a row and you're still beside me instead of me being in a federal prison cell.
" He pulled me closer. "Maybe never. Maybe I'll always have this fear in the back of my mind that someone's going to take this away. "
"Then I'll remind you every day. It's real. We won. We get to keep this."
Emilio stood up suddenly. His champagne glass still full. "I need a minute."
He walked away toward the back offices. Sandro watched him go with concern clear on his face.
"Go," Elio said to Sandro. "We're fine here. Go make sure he's okay."
Sandro left without argument.
I looked at Elio and Luca. "Are you two okay?"
"Define okay," Luca said. But he was smiling. Genuine relief breaking through. "We're not going to prison. That's more than okay. That's a fucking miracle."
"Diana earned every dollar we paid her," Elio agreed. "I didn't think anyone could find reasonable doubt in that mountain of evidence. But she did. She actually did."
"What happens now?" I asked. "With the convictions on the minor charges?"
"Probation. Fines. Community service, maybe." Elio shrugged. "Nothing that actually impacts our operations significantly. We'll have to be more careful. More legitimate on the surface. But we're not shut down. We're not in prison. We get to keep building what we've built."
"And you?" Luca looked at me. "What happens with you now that Matteo's not going to prison?"
The question caught me off guard. I'd spent so much time preparing for Matteo to be convicted that I hadn't thought about what came next if he wasn't.
"I stay," I said. "Keep working on the books. Keep being with Matteo. Keep living at Inferno." I paused. "This is home now. That doesn't change just because the threat of prison is gone."
"Good." Luca raised his glass. "You're good for him. For all of us, actually. Matteo's been less of an obsessive control freak since you've been around. That's a win for everyone."
I laughed despite everything. "Less obsessive? He literally increased security so much I couldn't leave the building without an escort."
"That's less obsessive for Matteo, trust me."
We drank. Talked. Slowly let the reality sink in that this was real. That they'd won. That we all got to keep our lives.
Eventually Sandro and Emilio returned. Emilio's eyes were red but he was smiling. Sandro's arm was around his waist—possessive, protective, the same way Matteo touched me.
We celebrated until late. Until the adrenaline finally wore off and exhaustion set in. Until we could actually believe that this was real and not some cruel trick.
***
Back in the apartment, Matteo and I stood in the bedroom just looking at each other.
"We have a future," I said. Breaking the silence. Making it real by speaking it aloud.
"We do." Matteo moved toward me. "An actual future. Years together. Not stolen visits through prison glass. Not letters censored by correctional officers. Just... us. Together. Free."
"I can't stop touching you." I reached for him. "Can't stop needing the physical confirmation that you're here. Real. Free. Not being taken away."
"I know. I feel the same way." He pulled me close. "I need—I need to feel this. Feel that it's real. That we actually won. That I get to keep you."
"You get to keep me." I kissed him. "Forever if you want me that long."
"Forever," he confirmed. "Definitely forever."
We moved to the bed. Stripped each other slowly. Taking time because we had time now. Years of it. Decades if we were lucky.
Every piece of clothing that fell away felt significant. A layer of fear removed. A reminder that we were here and free and together.
When we were both naked, I pushed Matteo down onto the bed. Straddled his hips. Looked down at him and tried to memorize this moment. This feeling. This overwhelming relief and gratitude and love.
"What do you need?" Matteo asked. His hands settled on my hips. Gentle. Reverent.
"You. Just you. I need to feel connected to you. Need to know this is real and not something I'm going to wake up from."
"It's real." He pulled me down for a kiss. "I'm real. We're real. This is real."
I kissed him like I was trying to prove it to myself. Deep and desperate and full of emotion I couldn't articulate. Relief and joy and overwhelming gratitude that we were both here.
When I pulled back, I said: "We get to keep this. We get to keep each other."
"Forever," Matteo said again. "As long as you want me, I'm yours."
"I'll always want you." I started to move. Positioning myself. Reaching for the supplies on the nightstand. "Always."
I prepared myself while Matteo watched. His eyes dark and intense. Watching every movement. Every moment of me getting ready for him.
"You're beautiful," he said. His voice was rough. "So fucking beautiful. And mine. And I get to keep you."
"You do. For as long as you want me."
"That's forever. In case that wasn't clear."
I smiled despite the emotion threatening to overwhelm me. "Good. Because that's how long I want to stay."
When I was ready, I rolled a condom onto him with deliberate slowness. Watched his breath speed up. Watched his hands clench on my hips.
Then I positioned myself above him and sank down slowly.
The sensation was overwhelming. Perfect. Everything I needed.
"God, Stefan—" Matteo's eyes closed. "You feel incredible."
"Look at me." I stayed still. Fully seated. Feeling every inch of connection. "Let me see you."
His eyes opened. Met mine. The emotion there nearly destroyed me.
"I thought I'd lost you," he said. His voice cracked. "When the jury went out for three days. When they started reading the verdict. I genuinely thought it would be guilty. That I'd have decades in prison. That I'd be asking you to sacrifice your life waiting for me."
"But you didn't lose me." I started to move. Slow. Deliberate. Making it last. "We get an actual future. We get to have this. Every night. For years."
"Yes." His grip tightened on my hips. "God, yes. Stefan—"
I rode him slowly. Learning the angle. Finding the rhythm that built pleasure gradually. Making this about connection more than just physical release.
Matteo's hands roamed my body. Touching. Claiming. Memorizing. His eyes never left my face. Watching every expression. Every reaction.
"I love you," he said. "So much. More than I thought I was capable of loving anyone."
"I love you too." I moved faster. Chasing the sensation building in my core. "So much it scares me sometimes."
"Don't be scared." He pulled me down for a kiss. "Be here. With me. In this moment. Feeling this."
I kissed him thoroughly. Then sat back up. Changed the angle slightly. Found the perfect spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids.
"There," I gasped. "Right there—"
"I know. I've got you."
He did. His hands guided my hips. Helped me find the rhythm. Let me lead but supported every movement.
I wrapped my hand around myself. Stroked in time with the movement of my hips.
"That's it," Matteo encouraged. "Take your pleasure. Show me we're real. Show me this is happening."
I moved harder. Faster. Chasing the orgasm building in my body. The pleasure mixed with emotion until I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
"Matteo—I'm close—"
"Let go. Come for me. Show me."
I changed the angle one more time. Ground down. Hit that perfect spot inside that sent pleasure exploding through every nerve ending.
The orgasm slammed through me. I came with Matteo's name on my lips and tears streaming down my face. Relief and joy and overwhelming emotion all crashing together.
Matteo cursed. His hands pulled me down into a desperate kiss as he thrust up once, twice, and came hard.
I collapsed against his chest. Both of us trembling. Both overwhelmed.
We lay there for a long time. Both trying to process. Both trying to accept that the nightmare was over and we'd actually won.
Eventually I rolled off him. We cleaned up quickly and got back into bed. Matteo pulled me against his chest. His arm around my waist. His face buried in my neck.
"I love you," he whispered. "We get to keep this. Keep each other. Build an actual life together."