Chapter 30
30
NICOLAS
She hasn’t come back to me.
I sit back in my leather chair, observing the men gathered around the long, polished table. The weight of the discussion at hand is clear, but my thoughts keep drifting back to Aria.
It’s been nearly a month, and she hasn’t returned.
When I first heard about the assault attempt on her, the man responsible didn’t live to see another morning. I have no mercy for rapists, for scum like him. It’s why I had Teresa go to her the next morning, to deliver the message I couldn’t.
I can imagine how the conversation went.
Did you kill him?
Yes.
Did you feel bad about it?
No. Not at all.
So, I stayed in my mansion, waiting for her to leave the dangers of the outside world and return to my protection. But she never did.
I glance around the room again, noting the tension in my men. They shift in their seats, exchanging quick glances, waiting for me to speak.
James stands on my left, arms crossed over his chest. He’s come a long way since Ken’s death. James was just another soldier a month ago, following orders without question. Now, he carries himself with quiet confidence. There’s a fresh scar on his jaw, a reminder of the last job we ran together, but I see no fear in his eyes. He’s become the man I always knew he could be.
Matteo sits beside me, waiting for my words.
I clear my throat, drawing their attention. “We have a few matters to settle.” My voice echoes through the large room. “First, the shipments from Greece will arrive at the north docks next week. I want no mistakes. Devin, assign guards who can keep their mouths shut.”
Devin nods, scribbling a note on a small pad, his forehead furrowed in concentration. Another man straightens in his seat, pride flashing in his eyes, eager for a task. But the fact that I still don’t know his name tells me he’s not ready.
I continue, focusing on the next point. “Our deal with the De Luca family stands, but I won’t tolerate any of their runners on our turf without my approval. Make it clear: they stay in their lane and don’t sell products similar to ours.”
James raises his hand and I nod. He speaks up. “I’ll coordinate with their lieutenant. We’ll define the boundary lines. No unannounced visits.”
I notice a flicker of respect in some of the men’s eyes when they glance at him, but the fact that even Matteo looks impressed is encouraging.
I shift my attention to an older man seated at the far end. He’s still new and a little uneasy in my presence, but I know his name is Cross, and he’s been handling the records well. “Report on the finances,” I say.
He clears his throat and begins detailing profits, payouts, and the usual taxes we impose on smaller territories. My patience starts to wane as he drones on, but I let him finish. The moment he closes his ledger, I sit up straighter.
“Good,” I say. “Keep up with the collections and make sure nobody tries to skim off the top. If you need more manpower, don’t hesitate to ask.” My gaze sweeps the table. “No excuses.”
They all nod in agreement. My mind shifts to the next issue when the door suddenly swings open.
I tense, half-expecting bad news. Then I see a flash of dark hair. No, it can’t be. But there she is. Aria steps into the room.
I blink several times, hoping to clear the fog from my vision. No matter how often I close and open my eyes, she still stands there. She’s here.
She glances around, her eyes meeting every set of them. A wry smile touches her lips as she lifts a hand in greeting. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to arrest anyone. And the cops are definitely not parked outside.”
A stunned silence falls over the room. The men stare at her, some with raised eyebrows, others shifting uncomfortably. James looks at me, unsure whether he should speak, but Matteo is the only one who seems close to breaking into a smile.
He’s the only one here who’s almost used to our banter.
Aria places her hands on her hips. “Wow, tough crowd. I guess the mafia sense of humor is an acquired taste.” She raises an eyebrow expectantly, then frowns after a few seconds. “Come on, that was funny.”
One of the younger men almost laughs but catches himself when he sees my expression. My heart pounds in my chest. She’s here. She’s really here.
I stand, my voice firm. “Out,” I say, trying to regain control.
They scramble to obey, chairs scraping against the floor as papers rustle. Some glance at Aria, curiosity flickering in their eyes, but most avoid my gaze. James lingers for a moment, concern written all over him, but I give him a silent nod. He looks between us, then nods back and quietly leaves, shutting the door behind him.
Now it’s just the two of us, alone in the room's stillness. My pulse hammers in my chest. She looks the same—her dark hair framing her face, her beauty just as striking, and that intoxicating strawberry scent filling the space.
We lock eyes, but I can’t read her. There’s nothing there, and that unnerves me. It’s frustrating, in a way. I step closer, my voice a little more controlled than I feel. “Why are you here?”
She lifts her chin, a slight quiver in her lips betraying her nerves. For the first time, I see a crack in the composure she’s holding on to. “I came for the rest of my things.”
My heart clenches, but I force myself to remain still, not wanting her to see how much that stings. I straighten my shoulders, trying to keep it together. “I can have someone pack them for you.”
She lets out a sad laugh, and tears glisten in her eyes. “You misunderstand me.” She takes a shaky breath. “You are one of my things. We made vows, remember? We said we belonged to each other.”
My breath catches, and I stare at her, unsure if I’ve heard right. Her eyes glisten, tears threatening to spill, but there’s a quiet determination in them too. She steps closer, her scent wrapping around me, pulling up too many memories.
“Aria…” My voice falters, but I catch myself.
She looks at me, her expression raw, vulnerable. “You said you’d always be mine, even if the world falls away. Did you mean it?”
I nod, my voice steady this time. “I meant every word.”
In my mind, I’m already grabbing her, bending her over the table, and impaling my cock in her from behind. But I stand still, waiting, hoping she’ll take that final step toward me, knowing that if she does, nothing will ever separate us again.
She steps forward, her hand resting lightly on my chest, right over where my heart is pounding. “Then make me yours again.”
Her lips brush mine, and that simple touch ignites a fire deep inside me. I close the space between us, drawing her in, and everything else disappears.
I grab her waist, pulling her against me, afraid she’ll vanish if I let go. She kisses me with a desperation that mirrors my own, her fingers clutching at my shirt, her body trembling against mine. I taste the salt of her tears, feel the warmth of her skin, the way she presses closer, as if trying to anchor herself to me.
When we break apart, I cup her face, brushing away the tears with my thumb. She leans into my touch, eyes fluttering shut, and my chest tightens.
“Marry me for real this time,” I murmur, my voice rough with emotion. “Not for alliances or deals. Marry me because you choose me.”
She inhales sharply, her eyes locking onto mine. In that gaze, I see everything—old wounds, new hope, a something so raw, so unspoken, that it steals my breath. I was never a fucking poet, but I know what love looks like.
“Yes,” she whispers, her voice trembling. Another tear slips free, but this time, it carries relief. “Yes.”
A breath I hadn’t realized I was holding rushes out of me. I rest my forehead against hers, letting the moment settle between us, letting the weight of her words ground me. Neither of us moves. Neither of us lets go.
The scent of paperwork, stale coffee, and gun oil lingers in the air—so out of place for something that feels sacred. I tilt her chin, guiding her lips back to mine, and she responds instantly, melting into me, as if she had never left.
I taste her urgency and feel how she clings to me, as if afraid to let go. Everything else fades—my men, my power, my doubts. Only Aria matters. Only this moment, her heartbeat thrumming against my chest. The same chest where I have her name engraved.
I break the kiss and rest my forehead against hers, my voice low. “Come with me.”
She nods, and we leave the meeting room, heading upstairs. Halfway up, she pauses, turning to me with a small, trembling grin. “You know what?” she whispers. “You never showed me what was in that drawer. And you did promise me new heights of pleasure.”
Heat coils in my gut at the memory. I brush a strand of her hair aside, watching a flush rise to her cheeks. “You’re still interested in that?”
She laughs softly, the sound warm but real. “I’m curious about everything you have to show me.”
I slip an arm around her waist, squeezing one of her ass cheeks. “Then I think it’s time you see all of it.”
She wets her lips, eyes darkening with anticipation. “I’d like that.”
My chest tightens—a mix of longing and relief. I press my mouth to hers, deepening the kiss, my hand sliding between her legs. I grunt when I feel the warmth there and my chest pulses even harder as I think of how wet she already is.
Her pussy. Her strawberry pussy must be pulsing right now. Calling out to me.
Soon, we’ll be behind closed doors. Soon, I’ll show her the secrets in that drawer and everything she wants to know about me—everything I am.
She came back. She’s mine again.
And in a few moments, I’ll make sure she never doubts it.