6. Ilaria
6
ILARIA
D ante left me alone to shower when we got back to his place.
A small miracle because from the quiet car ride where he was grinding his teeth the whole time I wasn’t sure that he was going to be able to stop himself from fighting with me when we got back to his place.
But when we made it to his penthouse of glass and no personality, Dante had pointed to a room and told me I could get ready for bed in there. It was a silent command but it was made known we did have to talk before bed.
Part of me wanted to be like a child who would crawl into bed, hiding under the covers to pretend that I was asleep to avoid being punished. But I also knew that Dante didn’t seem like the type that would do anything to hurt me.
It was close to 1AM when we finally made it back to his penthouse in the North End.
He wasn’t in one of the brick buildings that lined the neighborhood but across the street in one of the ocean front condos. A gorgeous view of the Atlantic on one side, the other overlooking the neighborhood and Boston, like he could watch all that he owned.
It was a three bedroom bachelor pad, from what I had seen in the walk to the bathroom. The living room was an open concept with a kitchen attached so you could see the TV while you cooked. One of the bedrooms off to the left as soon as you walked in was his gym. Tons of weights and equipment were stuffed inside. There was his office through the next door and finally the room he let me in must have been his bedroom with an en suite.
Everything was in basic colors, swirls of black and gray because of course Dante wanted to have a place as cold as he was.
It wasn’t a surprise that there was nothing about his place that made it feel like a home because that would mean letting people in and I knew men like Dante and how they struggled with that. That’s just the world that we live in. How we were raised.
Men like Dante were the perfect candidates for extensive therapy and yet none of them ever got it.
I slipped out of the shower, thankful for my gym bag that had a spare set of clothes inside. Just a basic pair of gray sweatpants, white socks, and a sweatshirt in the same heather gray as the pants.
Dante had a small blowdryer that I used to loosely dry my curls as I looked at my face. Puffy eyes from crying, no makeup on.
He was really going to see who he was going to marry tonight.
Fucking Justin.
My eyes closed as I leaned over the sink, brushing my teeth and willing myself not to throw up again at the thought of my now official ex boyfriend.
This day had taken too much out of me and I wasn’t sure how tomorrow would go.
A meeting with our fathers and wedding planning was scheduled for only a few hours away and I wasn’t sure how I was going to deal with any of that.
“Are you okay?” A raspy voice made me jump, turning at the sound.
No knock on the door, no warning, and Dante was there, standing behind me in nothing but black boxer briefs covering his hard body and a rosary that was hanging around his wrist.
He toyed with the beads as he looked at me and I wondered if it was a nervous tick.
Filling the space with the scent of his woodsy spice of cologne and tanned, muscled body. He had a sleeve of tattoos I wanted to trace like connect it dot art and a rosary over his ribs with a bible verse over it. 1 Corinthians 16:13 was all I could make out in the mirror that I was staring at him in.
“Don’t you fucking knock?” I asked after spitting out the mouthwash that had been in my mouth. Dante’s eyes darkened and I reveled in the fact he hated my foul mouth.
Good .
“Not in my house.” He retorted, trying to play the power dynamic with me.
His eyes were on mine in the mirror and he frowned, stepping forward as he took my chin in his hand, turning me as he forced me to look at him. Eye to eye as he stared down at me.
“Princess, we have business to discuss.” He talked before I could fight with him, like he knew that I wanted to snap at him.
Dante stepped away from me, motioning me to follow after him. As soon as his back was turned I flipped two fingers in his direction as he moved into the bedroom knowing I would follow behind him.
But he was right, we did have to talk about things and the sooner we talked about things the sooner I could curl up on his couch and fall asleep for a few hours.
Brushing past Dante I picked up my work bag I had taken along with my gym bag from the car. Sitting on the bed as I flipped it open, pulling open my work emails as I double checked that my boss had replied a few hours ago. Sighing in relief that she had returned my email that I had sent from my car before dinner.
“Do you have a printer?” I asked, already picking up my laptop and moving towards the office where I figured it would be.
Dante was following me as I moved through his home, setting up as I answered my own question, figuring it was in the home office I saw earlier.
I hit print and closed my laptop, headed over to the calendar on the wall, flipping past the summer and looking at November’s dates but he was behind me, peeling back the calendar to show August.
It was a silent argument and I wanted to fight with him on this.
I went to stomp on his foot to get him to give me space but he moved before I could slam my foot down. His fingers slipped and we both glared at each other before looking at the calendar which had opened to September now.
Dante’s hand came up and pointed to the 9th, pressing into me as his lips touched my ear. My body tensing as he was against me, assaulting me with his skin against my covered up body, breathing into me as I closed my eyes.
I wasn’t going to get an emotional attachment for my husband. I had seen what it had done to my parents and that wasn’t something I wanted for myself.
Love was too powerful.
The way my parents loved consumed them to the point when my mother died my father should have just laid in the ground and gone with her. His love for her trumped everything else.
Including me.
And I couldn’t let a love that ruined me.
Dante grabbed a pen, drew a heart over the 9th and I felt my eyes roll so hard I gave myself a headache from the motion.
His hand slid over my stomach, pushing up the gray fabric of my sweatshirt so it was his long fingers against my bare skin, soft traces of his finger pads there.
It took everything not to shiver, arch my ass back and feel more connected with him.
I could feel the way that he affected me. The way my stomach clenched, the heat between my legs. My clit ached to be touched as I flooded my panties, thinking about how after he went to bed I’d slide my hands into my pants and press the spots that he set alive with a simple touch.
“Looks like we’re all booked for 9/9, Mrs. Luchese.” He whispered into my ear, despite it just being the two of us here.
His lips kissed my ear with each word and I let my head hit the wall, trying to get some space between us. I needed to pull myself from the fantasy I was in and set up the walls and boundaries I needed
My skin was on fire as he turned me, his knee coming between my legs as he looked down at me, Dante’s dark eyes stuck on mine. We had known of each other for only about twelve hours but both of us could feel the connection.
It was more than just the marriage contract. It was this heat between us, this pull to each other.
It was looking your downfall in the eyes and giving in to defeat.
Except I never went down without a fight.
“Look on the printer, Dante.” His eyes drifted for a half a second before they were back on mine, “Trust me.”
I doubted that he gave his trust easily but I wanted to see if he would do what I asked.
And as if he was trying to prove a point he pulled away from me, heading over to the printer, as I tried to remember how to breathe again not that he had given me some room.
How could the presence of this man, who was more stranger than friend, knock me so off kilter?
I was already sliding out of the room, setting my things up in the living room. Dante followed me as he texted on his phone, most likely about what I had printed for him. I was thankful he wasn’t looking at me because the way he looked in those briefs with his eyes on me would be too much.
Why did he have to be good looking?
“It’s 2AM. C’mon to bed.”
He didn’t say thank you for getting his permits. Didn’t ask how I had done everything or why.
As soon as I had seen Dante, I knew he was connected, a made man. Since I didn’t have time to call my father and make sure he was okay to work with, I had taken the risk off my back and had made sure my boss had signed everything in her name. I didn’t need corruption charges coming back to bite me in the ass so I was always careful when I signed my name. My signature could make and break a lot of things and I tried not to throw it around.
Apparently a marriage contract was fine to sign though.
My boss signing things made it a lot easier for tomorrow night when I would be expected to be on Dante’s arm, most likely announcing our engagement with his club opening.
If I had signed the permits and someone was doing their due diligence it wouldn’t look great. But if I passed the baton to someone else it wasn’t my issue.
“I’m sleeping on the couch. Just wake me up in-”
Dante stopped, looking at me as if I was insane for saying something like that. He held out a hand for me, not even speaking as he beckoned me closer to him but I didn’t move from where I was.
I had never spent the night with a man. And he only had one bed. What did he expect of me?
“I won’t touch you unless you touch me. Your virtue is safe with me, princess.” Dante said, half exasperated as I stood there, taking too long to make my decision.
He motioned for me again and this time I stepped forward, taking his hand as he moved us into the bedroom.
Despite having been in there already when I showered, it felt different now. Maybe it was the way Dante moved over, pulling the covers down as he motioned me in the bed.
“There’s water on the nightstand. Do you need anything, princess?” He asked, watching as I pulled my hoodie around my body, rolling on my side and ignoring him.
My feet kicked off the covers he had tucked me in with. I didn’t want any part of him touching me. His scent was already intoxicating in the space and I was so overwhelmed with a thousand emotions running through me.
The sooner I fell asleep the sooner I could go home.
Dante slid into bed across from me, his eyes on me as he looked at me with that deep serious expression glittering dangerously in his eyes, like he could read my thoughts as he stared at me. I cringed, closing my eyes as I heard him chuckle.
“Goodnight princess.”
He was rolling over, my eyes opening as I felt him stretch a hand out to rest above my head so I could always be within his grasp. He was on his back, eyes closed and looking so different from the man that played hard ass during the day.
My eyes watered as I looked at my hand, the shiny diamond that was on there didn’t look out of place and that terrified me.
Moments like this I wished I could call my mom.
What I wouldn’t give to just talk to her and dump all my trauma on her. She would make me a cup of chamomile tea with her fresh pizzelles for me to dip in it.
I squeezed my eyes as tears leaked out and I willed myself not to cry again.
Missing my mother never seemed to get easier. If anything as the time passed and milestones started to be missed her absence felt greater and greater.
“Principessa?”
His voice was so soft and I whimpered, a hand reaching out as I touched his stomach, needing comfort and only having him here with me to give it.
I wanted my friends.
They knew me. They knew how to make me feel better. Now I was in a strangers bed feeling lost and alone as my life shifted.
Dante’s hand slid between my legs, my hand sliding over his shoulders as he pulled me on top of him with a soft tug. Our thighs locked around each other as his hands slide up my legs under my sweatshirt to rub my back as he presses me against him.
My face buried into his neck as shivered sobs break out from me and Dante wraps his other arm around me, squeezing me against his body as I let out another sob.
“I have you, principessa .” He whispered as I cried harder, holding onto Dante like I was going to drown in my sadness.
Overwhelmed by everything.
“Today was a lot. And I…I just miss my mom.” I whisper between sniffles.
Dante’s large palms ran over my back, comforting circles as I trembled against him. My heart aches as I was held tight to him. My mother gave the best hugs in the world but Dante holding me…it was nice.
“We can visit her tomorrow. I’d like to pay my respects and bring her flowers. Thank her. And you could have time with her. I’ll wait in the car if you feel better.”
My heart flew to my throat, pushing up as I looked down at Dante. The serious look on his face as he suggested going together to visit my mother’s grave together. He hadn’t asked me to tell him what I would say to her, didn’t suggest he try to fill a hole that I didn’t think could ever be filled.
No .
He left me the space to grieve and offered his own space to be there while I did so.
His hand slipped from my shoulders, pushing a few strands of my hair behind my ear and wiping at the tears that wet my face. His touch was gentle, his presence calming me by just being there.
“Are we really going to get married, Dante?” I asked as he let his lips tug up as if I had just told him a joke.
Things could change so easily with the family that it wasn’t a crazy question to ask.
But he made a sound of amusement, as if what I asked him was silly.
“You saw me mark the calendar. And we’ll tell our fathers in a very short amount of time. So why don’t you close those beautiful eyes and get some sleep.” He was talking so softly, soothing me with his words as I laid with him.
It was so easy to just agree to what he said when he spoke with such confidence, like it was all already done and decided.
I nodded my head, laying back down on Dante as he slid his fingers up and down my spine. It made my eyes heavy, my thoughts leaving my head.
The last one being why hadn’t I rolled over. Why had I just fallen asleep on him?