Chapter 43
43
Layne
T he prickle of tears as I watch Matteo disappear from view isn’t at all surprising. I’ve been a closet crier for years. And they’re not about him walking away with a part of my heart—I mean, that adds to the swell of emotion—but the tears are just a sign I’m full to the brim. Out of spoons.
Some people retreat when they’re overwhelmed, others dive into a frenzy, while I just need to let the tears run down my cheeks until my ducts are empty. I’ll still have to unpack what happened today, but first, my tears need to come out.
All around me, I get confirmation that I am exactly where I’m meant to be. Matteo wasn’t wrong—the apartment smells like home. From deeper inside the apartment, I can hear Valentine talking on the phone while he’s cooking, Matteo’s shower starting up, and Dante yelling at someone. The way they’re getting on and doing what needs doing is my sign I should do the same.
Instead of running to hide in my room, I slide down the wall, letting my relief and exhaustion guide me until my butt hits the floor. The tears fall a little faster because of how comfortable I feel. Enough to sit out for the three of them to see, but we’re past the point of hiding. Acceptance feels like home.
The dogs come from two different directions to make sure I’m fine, and I really am. Sure, I’m overwhelmed and exhausted, but there’s a lot more light in my thoughts and heart than darkness. Bella sits with her back to me, but she’s so close that I can rest my forehead on her back while my tears track. Edward lies so he can look up at me, and I roll my eyes at him being as protective as my pack.
“ Il mio tutto , get your ass off the floor,” Dante says as he walks toward me.
I watch him closely because the man is sin on legs. I worry for a moment if I should have run to my room, but he reaches down for me, and my arms shoot up as if they have a mind of their own. It’s instinctual, and I know that this man is also a forever person.
He pretends to stumble before he makes my tears fall faster. “Falling for you. Seriously, that's all I do these days.”
“Stop!” I laugh while wiping my face on his shirt.
“Never going to stop falling for you, baby. Now, excuse me, was I right?” he asks as he takes off toward the hallway but slows down when we pass the kitchen so Valentine can see us passing.
“About?” I ask belatedly, getting distracted by the way Valentine has shed his jacket. Honestly, seeing him in a button-down with the neck open, sleeves rolled up, while he’s got a million pots and pans on the stove with ingredients spread everywhere and he’s talking on the phone is straight up like watching porn.
Dante moves his thumb over my waist, wanting my full attention before he answers. “I told you we weren’t going to lose you.”
I laugh, but it turns into an ugly reminder of how my ring was taken. I know it was from their nonna, and the twins' love for her is evident. I feel guilty I no longer have it.
“What?” he growls, the noise coming from his chest.
I hold up my hand.
“Layne, a ring is a ring. We’ve got a whole drawer full to give you.”
“But it was your nonna’s.”
“And she’d probably whack you with her favorite wooden spoon. Then she’d whack me, Val, and Matty because you were taken.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“It’s not really about fault, you know that, right? It’s about me not wanting you to ever think you’re alone. And you were. You can’t argue with that.”
“I can argue with that. Because…”
“Nah, baby, not tonight. Tonight, you need reminding that you’re ours. Honestly, the rest of the world can fuck off until you know it with all your heart.”
“I do know it,” I confess, reaching down to open the door when he stops at Valentine’s room.
“We all need reminding.”
Valentine’s room and his bathroom are opposingly different to Dante’s, although they’ve both adopted the dark and broody aesthetic, nailing it, really. But where Dante’s bathroom is a symphony of clean lines and honed marble, Valentine’s is a master class in mixing rich timbers, dark tiles, and raw stone, making it look more like an expensive Japanese bathhouse.
I close my eyes, so overwhelmed by what I see and how incredible it smells. Valentine’s scent is ingrained in here, but Dante also has laid on the edge of the bath clothing from both him and Matteo so their scents are in here too. I feel parts of myself instantly calming.
Dante guides my feet to the floor, and of course it’s heated. The sensation makes me shiver and makes him chuckle darkly. Without talking, he takes his time in disarming me of my weapons and removing his own. It shouldn’t be a turn-on, but I’m coming to accept nearly everything associated with Dante hits me like that.
When he’s finished lining them up on the vanity, they look out of place among the candles someone has set up. It’s a poignant visual of the many facets that make up Pack De Luca—they are born for a life of crime and violence, but past the cutthroat and cold veneer most people see are the sweetest, most beautifully considerate people I have met.
My tears drip from my chin.
“You’re spoiling me,” I mumble when he unzips the back of my jumpsuit.
The pretty garment falls to the ground, and before he answers, Dante scoops it up and tosses it into the trash.
“I’ll buy you another one, but that one has too many memories associated with it.” He dips low and kisses his way up my neck as he speaks. “I didn’t like that you were taken today. At fucking all. I didn’t like a lot about today, actually. Seeing you on the tarmac nearly snapped my control like a twig, but I’m finding I’ve got this ability to see past that and see only you. You are fucking amazing. I am so proud to call you mine.”
I lean into Dante with everything I am while his hands trail a path over my skin, binding me to him. The feeling he unlocks is very similar to the way I needed my fill of Matteo.
I need this moment with Dante. His unwavering belief I can look after myself is as vital as the air we breathe. He turns us so I can see our reflection in the mirror, and another crest of emotion crashes through me because he looks at me the same way I look at him.
Dante uses a press of his dominance, along with his firm touch, to drive the truth further inside, that this thing of ours is a real and forever thing.
He palms the flesh of my stomach before his hands split up, one cupping my breast and the other dipping inside my underwear.
“God, I want inside your body, so I can remind you of what it means to be my all .” His mouth continues licking and kissing over my shoulder, his fingers dipping deeper inside my pussy, and as weird as it sounds, his touches are both sensual and not. They’re anchors for me to hold on to as I keep working through the storm of what happened today. More than that, how this crazy world is ours to own.
When he removes his fingers from inside my body, I whimper, and he bites down on the top of my shoulder.
“Bath first, then Valentine will need your attention. But the instant he is done, I’m inside you.”
Dante disappears from view as he drops down to take my panties off. Twisting around to see what he is up to, I scream when he startles me, sweeping me off my feet with no warning. He laughs even when he presses his lips to my skin again, and he doesn’t stop nibbling on my shoulder as he lowers me into the steaming bath water.
“Have a bath with me,” I offer, looking for his lips.
“No chance. Later, most definitely.” He steps away from me but leans over and uses his hand in the water to make the bubbles join back up and cover me, head to toe. “Close your eyes and relax,” Dante barks, his Alpha command like his touches were…holding me exactly where I need to be—here and now, nowhere else.
I hear him go, and much like with Matteo, he takes with him another part of me, but I gave it willingly and he left me with so much more.
I lose track of time and use how loose my body feels as a guide before pulling the plug to use Valentine’s shower. And all his toiletries, so I smell like a sweet version of him.
Walking into the kitchen in a vibrant-blue silk sleep short set—chosen because the color is the exact same as the twins’ eyes—I step over Bella to curl behind Valentine. “That smells amazing.”
The tantalizing aroma from the food does smell incredible, but Valentine’s espresso scent is what I was referring to, and he knows it. He grabs my hands from around his stomach and kisses both my palms before putting them back where they were.
I stay standing with as much of my body pressed against him as possible, listening to the steady beat of his heart and enjoying his presence. And exactly like we knew, the time apart has given us both the chance to do and be what we needed, letting us simply be together, instead of me focusing on placating him, and him trying to shield me from the world.
“Are you hungry?” he asks as he serves up the meal.
“I could eat.”
Matteo and Dante come inside from the balcony.
“Eat here or outside?” Valentine asks.
“Here is good,” I offer, letting go of him and walking around to give Matteo and Dante a hug. They’ve both changed into fresh suits because their day is not done by a long shot.
“You feed the dogs, and I’ll get the wine,” Dante suggests.
And we all have our role and place in the kitchen. We don’t trip over each other; I get lots of small touches from each of them for no other reason than they want to. No one watches me, wondering when I’m going to fall apart. No one looks for answers or explanations. We just exist in a very sweet and domestic way.
When we get ready to sit down, there are only three plates, but I don’t need to ask why. Matteo sits on his high stool, Dante takes one opposite, and Valentine and I take the chairs that are so close to each other, it looks like one large seat instead of two.
“To times like this,” Valentine says, raising a glass. And we all say the same before tapping our glasses together, the delicate sounds of the glass clinking echoing through our home.
Matteo and Dante wait until Valentine has the first forkful of food waiting at my lips before digging in. And while I’m most certainly aware they’re with us, now it’s Valentine’s time to make me feel like it’s just me and him in the world.
His eyes are shimmering with a kaleidoscope of emotion, making the blue keep changing. No matter how frequently the color transforms, it’s easy to see this Alpha is not the same one who rescued me. Gone are the wickedly sharp edges and the raging chaos. In their place is steely determination and a lust for blood, but those are secondary to him being my Alpha. And the Alpha of Pack De Luca.
Valentine and I share the same fork, and it’s deeply intimate. Such a simple gesture with such deep-seated meaning—I am his, and he is mine.
We eat as a family, and the conversation naturally stays focused on revenge and their plans for tonight, which start in a few short hours. The discussion gets brutally descriptive at points, but I’m not put off, and I love the way they don’t hide anything from me. What Diego and Rosa did deserves the savagery my pack is planning.
Valentine waits until I finish chewing my last bite.
“Excuse us,” he says, looking at both Matteo and his brother before standing and helping me out of my chair. With a careful push on my back, he guides me out of the kitchen while calling back, “Be ready to leave in two hours.”