Chapter 30
Mina
Thirteen hours later, I’m right back in Chicago, where I never should have left.
I’m so jet-lagged I can’t tell what day it is, let alone the time. But I don’t care.
I’m too happy to worry about the little things.
Like how exhausted I am or how my body aches from spending nearly an entire day stuck on a plane.
I guess it’s only fitting that I was up in the clouds for so long—because a part of me still feels like it’s flying high. And it’ll take me a minute before my feet finally touch the ground.
Everything feels like a dream now, after I have been trapped in a dull, nightmarish state without my love for so long.
And from what I’ve read in the past twenty-four hours, my Jude has been living with the same torment.
His journals told me everything I needed to know and more.
His recollection of the past and present spoke to me on a visceral level. I felt his love in my bones, his tear-stained words in my heart, his longing in my soul.
But while Jude was ready to walk away from our love because he had some idealistic notion that he was doing right by me, I refuse to make the same mistake.
Unlike him, I’m not that conscientious.
Jude loved selflessly and cautiously.
While I intend to love him selfishly and loudly.
Yes, I’m selfish with his love. I want it all for myself, just as I always have.
And this time, I won’t let it slip through my fingers. I will fight for what’s rightfully mine.
And Jude Adamo Romano is definitely mine.
He always has been.
It just took me reading his journals to realize that my love for him had always been reciprocated.
That it hadn’t been a figment of my imagination.
That it was real.
That it is real.
Though to be fair, I have learned from my past mistakes.
I won’t give him ultimatums this time—just choices.
Save for one nonnegotiable.
But as time drags on and I still haven’t seen his face or set my plan into motion, restlessness and anxiety start to creep in.
“Did you get his address?” I nudge Remus in the ribs, but he ignores me completely, too busy chuckling away at whatever DM popped up on his phone screen to pay me much attention.
“Remus!” I shout when he starts tapping away at his phone instead of answering me. “Did you get Jude’s address or not?”
“Chill, cousin. Lucky gave it to me while we were still up in the air. The driver already knows where to take us.”
“You talked to Lucky?” I ask, surprised that’s where Remus got his intel from.
“Still am.” He smiles, eyes on the screen.
“What could you two possibly have to talk about?” I question, so intrigued I try and sneak a peek at his screen.
“Hey, this is a private conversation. Don’t be looking at my phone,” he snaps, hiding it from me.
“Sorrrryyyy,” I roll my eyes at him. “I just find it odd that you’ve taken an interest in anyone besides yourself, let alone Jude’s little brother.”
“She’s got you there.” Rolo snickers beside me.
“Is it my fault the kid idolizes me?” Remus explains with a smug smile. “Besides, I kind of like the kid. He and I speak the same language. We understand each other. Don’t see what’s so weird about it.”
My eyes widen at that.
“Who are you, and what have you done with my cousin?”
Now it’s Remus’ turn to roll his eyes.
“Stop worrying about me and who I talk to and start getting your head in the game. Sounds like this is make-or-break time for you.”
He’s not wrong. It is.
But I’m not worried.
Okay.
Maybe a little.
Bugger.
Why did the twat have to go and say that shit for?
Now that Remus managed to plant the seed of doubt in my brain when the car parks in front of a skyrise building where Jude’s city apartment is located, I’m a ball of nerves.
Remus quickly slides out of the car, but when I don’t move, he pops his head back inside.
“Hello? What’s taking you so long?”
I don’t look at him, and instead stare straight ahead, nervously chewing on my bottom lip.
“She’s shitting bricks again,” Rolo explains to his brother, eyeing me attentively.
“Fuck,” Remus groans, sliding back into the car and slamming the door behind him. He exchanges a knowing look with Rolo, both shifting closer, effectively sandwiching me between them. “What do you need? How can we help?”
I glance at Remus and then to Rolo, realizing that they are just as invested in my happiness as I am.
“I know I give you wankers a hard time, but you know I love you, right? To the rest of the world, you might just be my cousins, but to me, you’ve always been more. You’re my brothers. You know that, yeah?”
“We know,” Remus replies, patting my knee.
“Though it is nice to hear it, every now and again,” Rolo chimes in, his usual crazed eyes softening somewhat.
“Ah, bollocks. See what you’ve done. You broke him.” Remus points at Rolo.
“Fuck off, you tosser! Break this!” Rolo snaps, throwing his brother a double-finger salute—our Brit version of flipping the bird—each hand forming a reverse peace sign.
Thankfully their playful banter and soft chuckles do the trick of loosening the knot in my stomach.
“Okay. I’m ready,” I say at last, picking up my bag from the floor.
“Good. ‘Cause we’re double-parked.”
“What Rolo means to say is that you’ve got this,” Remus corrects.
“Yeah, that too. Now move your ass, get out of this fucking car, and go get your man!”
I laugh as Remus steps out of the car again, this time with me and Rolo in tow.
The twins continue to give me encouraging looks as we ride the lift to the top floor, where Jude’s apartment is.
But when I get off at Jude’s floor, and the twins continue to follow close behind, I halt my step and face them both.
“I appreciate your support in coming up with me, but I can handle it from here.”
“Oh, we know,” Rolo smirks at Remus as they continue to walk toward Jude’s apartment.
“We love you and all, but we didn’t come up for you,” Remus adds with a sinister grin stitched to his lips.
“Oh?” I ask, confused, as we finally reach Jude’s door—only for Remus to push me behind them.
“Ready, brother?”
“Oh, yeah,” Rolo says, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face.
“On three,” Remus calls out. “One. Two. Three!”
In unison, they lift their legs and kick the double doors clean off their hinges, the brutal crack echoing through the hallway.
“Karma, bitch!” Rolo yells into the empty penthouse apartment.
“He’s not in there, remember, idiot?” Remus shakes his head. “Lucky said it’ll be a while before he comes home.”
“What? But seeing his eyes pop out of his sockets is half the fun,” Rolo pouts.
“I take back everything I said in the car. You two are arseholes. ” I laugh, stepping into Jude’s domain to set everything up, careful not to trip over the doors now lying lifeless on the floor.
“You good for us to leave you here alone?” Remus asks, scanning the place.
“I’d feel a lot better if there was a door I could actually close,” I say, nodding toward the debris. “But you two just had to have your fun.”
“It’s just how we roll, cousin.” Rolo winks.
“Well, roll yourselves out. I’ve got work to do before Jude gets home.”
Chuffed that they got their little revenge on Jude, they wish me good luck and leave.
I quickly unpack everything from my bag, searching for the perfect spot in his home to set it all up in. A wicked smile crawls across my face when I realize the first thing Jude will see when he walks into his apartment is his kitchen breakfast countertop, making it the perfect place to set everything up on.
Once every piece is in its proper position, I glance at my watch, nervous butterflies causing chaos in my stomach at the thought that I won’t have to wait long for Jude to get home.
“The fuck? What happened to my door? Marcello! Are you in here? What the fuck happened to my doors?!” Jude yells the minute he arrives.
But the second he lifts his head off the rubble and sees me sitting on his marble countertop, whatever outrage he had over his demolished doors vanishes.
“Mina.” He says my name like a prayer. “You’re here.”
“I am. The twins send their regards by the way.” My gaze flickers to the wreckage on his floor.
“Ah. I see.” His lips curve into a knowing smile. “Be sure to tell them how much I appreciate their thoughtful gesture.”
“I will.” I smile as he walks towards me with intention.
But as he draws closer, I catch how his eyes slightly widen at the familiar chessboard set up on his kitchen counter.
“And I see you didn’t come alone. You brought our chessboard with you.”
“Indeed, I did. After I left Chicago, it dawned on me that we never got to play a proper game. I thought we could fix that.”
“I’m always up for a good challenge. Though I haven’t played in five years, so I might be rusty.”
“I’ll take my chances.” I smile, glancing at the board. “I’ve set it all up for us to start.” I then turn to face him and extend my hand. “It’s only missing one thing.”
Jude’s smoldering grin sends a shiver through me as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the ivory queen—the one he stole from me all those years ago.
But before he places it in my palm, he grips it tightly and leans in, his minty-fresh breath fanning my cheeks. “This is a loan. I’m going to need her back,” he says, pressing the chess piece into my hand and curling my fingers around it.
“Her?” I arch a brow. “Not it?”
“I’ve grown too attached for her to be an it, ” he replies, taking off his suit jacket and neatly placing it on an empty stool.
My heart does cartwheels in my chest as Jude shifts the chessboard sideways before settling onto the nearest barstool beside me while I remain perched on his countertop, my crossed legs nearly in his lap.
“Ladies first.”
I start the match by moving my pawn, feeling the weight of his stare on my fingers.
“Before I forget, I truly enjoyed your engagement present.”
“Is that right?” he retorts, mimicking my move and grabbing my hand just as I reach for my bishop. “Did you enjoy it so much that you decided to call the whole thing off? Your ring finger is missing a diamond, Lady Crane ,” he adds while his thumb draws little circles on where my diamond ring used to be.
“If I say yes, can I still keep my gift?”
He lets out a low rumble, his jaw clenching as he gently releases my hand from his.
“Felix must have been disappointed when you returned his ring to him.”
“I wouldn’t know. My father was the one to break the news. I was too busy flying back to Chicago…to you.”
“To me?” His voice turns husky as his lingering gaze travels up my body, from my long, bare legs to my heaving chest, pausing when he catches the sight of a familiar gold necklace resting against my skin.
I don’t dare breathe as he leans in, his deft fingers slipping beneath the fabric to pull the necklace from its hiding place between the swell of my breasts, letting it settle atop my top.
“You kept it,” he whispers, with a hint of surprise in his voice. “I thought you had thrown it away.”
“I could never do that. I promised you I’d always cherish it. And I have.”
“You promised you would always wear it, too,” he mutters, unable to hide his disappointment.
“Just because you never saw it on me didn’t mean I didn’t have it within arm’s reach.”
“You hid it from me?” he asks, his gaze darting to my mouth now. “All the time you were here?”
“Only fair, don’t you think? Since you’ve hidden so many things from me.”
His gaze leaves my mouth to stare deep into my eyes.
“How much did you read?”
“Enough,” I answer, my voice soft with a gentle timbre. “More than enough. Enough to know that I wish you had shown them to me earlier. It would have saved us from a world of pain.”
“I wish I had too.” He exhales deeply and leans back, shoving his hand into his pocket. His lips press into a fine line when he comes up empty—his keepsake no longer there to ground him.
To keep his hands busy, he starts unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling his sleeves up his impressive muscular forearms.
Sensing his nervous state, I move my bishop one spot and remind him of his turn.
Jude exhales and makes his play, and soon, all the tension in his body starts to disappear with each chess move.
Playing chess is more than just nostalgia—it’s familiarity and comfort.
For as long as I’ve known him—and from what was written in his journals—playing chess with me has always been his escape, his happy place. No matter what chaos surrounded him, the board was where he found control, where every move had a purpose. And now, as he settles into the game, I watch the tightness in his shoulders ease, and the crease in his brow soften. The weight of all his past mistakes and woes somehow feels lighter to bear with each precise move he makes.
“Check,” he says a bit too triumphantly.
“I thought you said you were rusty?” I taunt, nudging his thigh with the tip of my heels.
His gaze immediately pulls away from the chessboard and onto my legs, the same legs that have been taunting him since he sat down.
“There are just some things that no amount of time can ever erase from a man’s memory,” he murmurs, placing his hand on my ankle and slowly dragging it up to my knee.
The way he licks his lips has my breath catching in my throat. The urge to uncross my legs so he can slide his hand in between my thighs is blindingly strong, and it takes inhuman effort for me to cover his hand with mine and keep it still on my knee.
“So I guess what you’re saying is that playing chess is like riding a bike.” I swallow dryly. “You never truly forget.”
“I could come up with a better analogy than that one, love, but have it your way.” He smirks, giving my knee a little squeeze.
I move my king one square to which Jude attacks with his bishop. “Check.”
“Rusty, my arse.” I giggle. “Tell me the truth. In the last few years, you haven’t just been playing chess—you’ve probably even entered a tournament or two.”
The remark was meant to lighten the thick, lust-filled tension settling between us, but instead, all I managed to do was dampen his mood.
“I didn’t lie to you, Mina. I never touched a board again. I couldn’t.”
“Why not?” I ask breathlessly.
His gaze locks onto mine, heavy with meaning. “You know why.”
“Jude,” I lean in to cup his cheek. “I know. I meant nothing by it. It was just a silly joke.”
His eyes search mine as if he’s trying to unravel every secret I have with just one look.
“You were right. Marcello’s induction was a successor reveal,” he says unexpectedly. “After our conversation in the woods, I confronted my father about it, and he admitted that his intention is for Marcello to replace him when he decides to step down.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” he confesses with a shy smile, his eyes fixed on mine.
“You’re not?” I breathe, hope starting to build in my chest.
“No. Quite the contrary.” He shakes his head with a grin. “When my father told me the throne would be Marcello’s, I felt relieved. As if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I didn’t even realize what a heavy load I’d been carrying. The weight of my birthright coloring every decision I ever made. Now that it’s not my burden to carry any longer, I feel — ”
“Free?” I finish for him.
His gaze ignites at the word that spills from my lips, and in a flash, he’s on his feet, his hands gripping my hips, his knee pressing my thighs apart to nestle his body in between them.
Jude gently tilts my chin, lifting my gaze to meet his, forcing me to stare into the gold flecks in his eyes.
“Why are you really here, Mina? No more games.”
“You know why,” I say, deliberately echoing his words, knowing only he understands their underlying meaning.
“You’re not marrying Felix?” he asks again as if he needs further clarification.
“No.”
“You’re wearing my pendant.”
“Yes.”
“And you came back to Chicago… for me.”
“Correct,” I smile, running the pad of my finger over the seam of his bottom lip. “Jesus, cowboy, I thought you’d connect the dots faster than this.”
“Cowboy.” He lets out a low, rumbling chuckle. “You used to call me that a lot when you were a kid.”
My legs wrap around his waist, my ankles digging into his back until his crotch is pressed against me.
“Do I look like a kid to you now?” I arch a brow as my hand slides in between us to cup his bulge in my hand.
“No, you don’t,” he grunts, his hazel eyes turning darker.
“I didn’t think so,” I coo, adding just enough pressure to turn him insane with want. “Now, I went through all this trouble because we needed to have a heart-to-heart before we let our baser instincts get the better of us. But it’s clearly apparent that you can’t behave long enough for us to do that. So here are your options.”
“I’m listening,” he says, his hands sliding my skirt up higher, bunching the fabric at my hips until his hard cock is just inches from where I need him most.
Heat coils deep inside me, desire pooling as my breath shudders in anticipation.
“From this point on, you are mine, and I am yours. Whether we live here in Chicago or return to Kent Manor is up to you. Those are your choices. Everything else is non-negotiable. We can deal with the logistics of how our combined lives will look like at a later date, but for now, that’s where we stand. Agreed?”
His smile turns predatory, and suddenly, my clothes feel too tight on my body.
“Mina Crane, is this your romantic way of saying that you love me?” he taunts, delicious danger and wicked promises laced in his voice.
“No, Jude. This is my way of proposing to you,” I say and then take a deep breath, praying to God I don’t muck what I’m about to say next too severely. “ Ti amo così tanto, amore mio. Non c’è niente che non farei per trattenerti. E intendo trattenerti per sempre. Per amarti per sempre.”
His gaze becomes a molten mess, his lips parting as if he’s at a total loss on how to respond.
Thankfully, Jude doesn’t leave me in agonizing suspense for long.
“I love you so much, my love. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you. And I intend to keep you forever. To love you forever,” he repeats my words back to me in English with love in his eyes. “From this point on, you are mine, and I am yours. And nothing nor no one will ever stand in between our love again.”
My eyes begin to water at his poetic words. Words that I’m sure he’ll repeat to me every day of his life.
He then leans in and presses his lips to mine, sealing his vow to me with this one kiss.
Check-fucking-mate.