Chapter 22 #2
My mother seems like a different person lately.
I know she’s been taking her medication religiously, but I don’t think that’s the only reason.
With each day that passes with her living here, where she is safe and loved, she’s been flourishing.
It’s been months since I’ve seen her talking to herself or drifting into a confused daze.
Months since her last episode. And even if everything in my life feels fucked, I thank God for that blessing at least.
“You look so tired, figlio mio,” she says, cradling my cheek in her palm.
“I feel tired.” She frowns.
“You can’t spend all your days focused on work, Matteo. You need something else in your life. Something to give it meaning. A happy distraction. Maybe even… a wife?” Her eyes light up, a sly smile on her lips.
“You’ve been eavesdropping,” I say with a grin, tapping her nose lightly.
“A little bit,” she admits, settling back on the couch. “So is it true? Are you really going to get married this summer?”
“If all goes well, yes.”
“Will you still live here, though?” she asks, and I can tell the subject unsettles her.
“You made this place a home, Mom. Where else would we go?”
That lights her up again. “Do you think your future wife will like me?”
“How could she not?”
“Do you think I will like her?”
“Yes. I’m positive you will. Annamaria is very… lovable.”
“Annamaria,” my mother repeats, as if committing the name to memory. “That’s quite a name.”
“She’s quite a woman.”
My mother’s smile dims slightly. “I also heard she’s the youngest daughter of Vincent Romano.”
“You’ve heard a lot, it seems.” My own smile fades.
“She’s not going to be very happy to be part of our family, is she? Not if it means she’ll never be able to see hers again.”
My lips press into a thin line.
“That will depend on how her father accepts the marriage. I have no issue with her maintaining a relationship with her family once the dust settles.”
My mother pats my hand and sighs. “Matteo, my beautiful, clever boy… that is the most delusional thing I’ve ever heard.
And I should know since living in delusions is my forte.
” She lets out a shaky laugh. “Her father will never accept you. Chicago will always see New York as the place that stole their beloved daughter. You could never let her see anyone she loves again. Not if you intend to keep her.”
I fall silent at her words, unsettled by how perceptive they are. My mother’s mind has never been clear enough for such insight, yet her words feel undeniably true.
“Do you intend to keep her?” she adds, a hint of apprehension in her voice. “Or is she nothing more than a pawn in your vendetta with the Outfit?”
“She is to be my wife. I will treat her as such.” My mother’s rigid posture relaxes instantly when she sees the resolve in my eyes.
“That’s good. I’m glad you feel this way. I will do my part in making Annamaria feel at home, too. And hopefully, one day, she’ll accept us as her family.”
“I hope you’re right,” I say, pressing a soft kiss on the top of her head, putting an end to this unsettling conversation. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to shower the day off me and go to bed. It’s been a long day. Ti voglio bene, Mamma.”
“Ti voglio bene, figlio mio.”
As I walk up the flight of stairs to my bedroom on the third floor, my mother’s words follow me up every step.
I’ve been so caught up in worrying about how Anna would hate me that I forgot how alone she’ll feel during that time.
It’s true that I don’t mind her talking to her family, especially since I know how much they mean to her. But until we’ve cemented our marriage and solidified our union, that’s a risk I won’t be foolish enough to take, especially early on.
Not only because Anna is a flight risk and would likely use the opportunity to leave me, but also because Romano would use whatever means necessary to steal her back. Even a simple phone call could jeopardize everything.
Porca miseria. If this day couldn’t get worse, it just did. By the time I reach my room, I’m wound tight again.
I head straight for the shower, letting the hot water beat down on me in an attempt to wash off the tension clinging to my skin.
It doesn’t help, though. After putting on some sweats and a T-shirt, I lie on my bed, knowing that tonight I’m the one who has to wait for her call, not the other way around.
I stare at the clock on my dresser, watching the minutes drag by, my muscles tightening with each one that passes without hearing her voice. But just as my last nerve wears thin, my phone comes to life in my hand. Only Anna isn’t calling. She’s trying to FaceTime me.
Merda. I can’t not answer. I can’t make another excuse like I did last Christmas. And I sure as shit can’t ask Raffaele to answer for me. No. I only have one option here. Answer the goddamn phone myself.
First, I fumble with the lights, then set the phone on my dresser and sit at the edge of my bed, angling it just right so she only sees me from the neck down before answering.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” I greet the second her beautiful face comes into view, my heart twisting inside my chest at the mere sight of her.
“Thank you,” she beams excitedly. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to answer.”
“Did you enjoy yourself today?” I reply instead, steering us toward safer ground.
“I did. Thank you,” she says, and the sparkle in her blue eyes nearly undoes me.
Fuck. I am so fucked.
“I’m sorry I didn’t send you a gift. I wasn’t sure it would be safe, given how my last present was received by your family.”
She lets out a giggle. “Speaking of which, I totally forgot to tell you. One of my father’s capos actually claimed the gift as his. Well, not his exactly, but that it came from his son, Antonio.”
My hands clutch the fabric of the duvet at the thought of some man I don’t even know having the audacity to claim my gift to Anna as his.
“And what did you say to that?” I clear my throat.
“Nothing. What could I say?”
She’s right. She couldn’t tell her father the gift came from me. Better that he believe it came from one of his men than from the future Don of the Cosa Nostra.
“But this right here… seeing you, it’s the best present I could ask for.”
She isn’t really seeing me, only the faint outline of my body. I made sure the lighting was low enough that I’m mostly covered in shadow, just in case the phone slips and she catches a glimpse of who she’s really been talking with this whole time.
It’s bad enough she’s already sent me more than a few cold remedies for my ‘raspy throat.’
“Give me a second,” she says out of the blue.
I then watch as the image shifts away from Anna’s face, the camera wobbling slightly before settling again. Now she’s sitting on the edge of her bed, mirroring my position almost perfectly. She’s even angled the phone so most of her face is out of view, except for her lips.
I’m not exactly pleased with the change, but I understand what she’s trying to do. If I won’t show my face, then neither will she.
When I glance at my own image, I realize my mouth is visible, too. Merda.
Thankfully, Anna doesn’t seem to notice much of a difference between my brother and me. Though the idea of Anna being familiar with Raffaele’s mouth in any way sends my blood pressure skyrocketing.
“There. Perfect,” she says, her lips lifting into a smile.
Yes, you are.
But I don’t say those words aloud. I know how much they trigger her. And tonight, I want her to feel loved for who she is, not for who others expect her to be.
“Well, birthday girl… tell me, how would you like to end the day?”
My cock swells at the sight of her front teeth sinking into her full bottom lip.
“I have some ideas.”
“Do you, now?” I lick my lips. “Care to share any with me?”
“I might.”
“Well then…” I say, placing my hands on either side of me as I lean back slightly on the bed, careful not to reveal more than just my lips. “I’m all ears.”
“I want you to touch me.”
Madonna. This woman is going to kill me. I am so fucking fucked.
The words have barely left her pretty pink lips, and I’m already sitting up in attention.
“Where?” The question comes out more like a strangled growl than an actual word.
“Everywhere.”
My throat dries as a rich crimson blossoms over her chest, tracing its way to her collarbone and up her neck. I’m sure her face is burning just as brightly, but it doesn’t stop her from saying what she wants.
“Be more precise.”
There’s that smile again. Fuck.
“First, I want your lips here,” she points at the hollow of her throat. “Then I want them to trail all the way up to my mouth.”
“Good. I like how this is starting.” I lick my lips again, my knuckles white as my fingers grip the edge of the bed. “Go on. Tell me more. Show me more.”
“You… want me to show you?”
“Yes.”
I watch her swallow dryly, sudden panic making her hesitate.
I don’t think Anna put much thought into this call. She probably thought that FaceTiming me would help move things forward in our physical relationship, but her naivety and inexperience are showing.
“Do you want me to take the lead?”
“Please.”
“Okay, sweetheart. But only for a little while. You know how much I like it when you tell me what you want.”
I proceed to tell her how I’m kissing her first. Gently, thoroughly. How her mouth welcomes my tongue like a long-lost friend, how her body molds itself to all my hard ridges.
We’re still just kissing, and I’m already hard as stone.
“Caro mio,” she breathes out, and I can tell she’s tipped her head back by the way she’s exposing her neck to me. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to bite into it right now. “I need more. Give me more.”
If only I could.
“Use your hand, baby. Pretend that it’s mine, okay?” She nods, ever obedient. “Run my fingers down the slope of your neck, slowly. Yes, that’s it.”