Chapter 37
Lily
"So what did you want to be when you were younger?" Dominico's question catches me off guard, pulling me from the almost sleep I was experiencing in the hammock next to him.
I turn my head to look at him, his eyes glued to a book he is supposedly reading.
Perhaps he can listen and read at the same time?
I wouldn't put it past him. It is surprising how much he can do.
And being alone on this island, his island, for the last couple of days has highlighted just that.
Aside from speaking four other languages, he has a master's degree in business economics, can cook Michelin-style meals that have the taste to match, and can fuck me senselessly like no one else ever has.
Okay, the last one was admittedly a given.
I wasn't exactly experienced, but while I saw it as a flaw before, now I am grateful for it.
Every experience with Dominico felt like the first. And somehow, I think the same was true for him.
He was always looking at me bizarrely, as if I were surprising him.
Or as if his feelings were surprising him.
Kind of like the way he was looking at me now, reminding me that I have left his question unanswered.
"Oh, um, well, there wasn't some particular profession I set my sights on.
It was more like a business that I wanted to own.
A plant slash book shop. A place where people could buy books and plants.
With sofas, couches, and tables where people could sit and read together.
Amongst all the plants. Like being together in the shared activity of silence.
Maybe have a coffee and cake. You know, something like that.
" His eyebrows raise comically when I imply he knows what I am talking about.
There was no way in hell we would ever have that same dream.
"It sounds nice. And it suits you." As usual, there is no mocking tone. When I told Johnathan my dream, he laughed in my face, telling me how childish and ridiculous it was.
This made the fact that I told Dominico so easily even more shocking. Johnathan's reactions no longer held me back from telling Dominico anything. I smile as the realization sinks in.
When I glance at Dominico again, he has his phone out. He must be messaging someone, as a notification ping sounds moments later.
"It is done. Davide will find the perfect property to buy, and then we will have designers come in and make it exactly as you envisioned."
If I weren't lying down, my jaw would be on the floor.
"What?" I eventually manage to get out, once the shock of his words has somewhat subsided.
Dominico looks at me, confused.
"The planty book shop," he says, slowly, as if that is what I need to understand.
I nearly fall off the hammock as I sit up, my feet landing on the ground to keep me stable.
"You are buying me a shop. So that I can open 'Lily's Coffee Nook.' "
"Well, yes, if that's what you want to call it. I like it." He is so casual about this that I struggle to understand if he is being serious or not.
"Are you being serious?"
His brow furrows, and he squints at me as if I am the crazy one.
"Deadly. Why? Don't you want it? I can always cancel."
"No," I almost shout, afraid he is taking what I am saying as ungratefulness. "I just can't believe you would do that."
He sits up, his rise much more elegant than mine was.
"And why not? You are my wife, are you not?" I nod, and he swipes his hand in the air dismissively. "So then, what's the issue?"
"It's just…no one has ever done something so nice for me. Ever." Tears well and I blink my eyes, hoping they retreat.
" Il mio fiorellino . This is how you should always have been treated.
Like a fucking Queen. Unfortunately, you weren't, and everyone who has treated you any less than that will pay.
However, it has provided me with the unique opportunity to be the first. Still not behavior that will earn those assholes any leniency, but an opportunity I will capitalize on on. "
I almost laugh at how business-like it sounds. But this is Dominico. The hard and the soft all rolled into one. Compliments laced with veiled threats. Directed at others, of course.
"So, we're going ahead?" His thumb is poised over the screen, my answer so simple to him, while this is monumental to me.
I couldn't wipe the smile off my face if I tried.
"Great. Settled. We will look over it when we get home.
" The casual way he says 'home' broadens my smile.
But at the same time, the threat of the future looms. I am now married.
I am now Mrs. Sante, wife of the Mafia Don.
What role am I expected to play in this new future that has just been created for me?
"I wish we could stay here forever." I shouldn't be surprised when Dominico reads me and senses my doubt.
As usual, his speed astonishes me, and before I can even squeal, he has scooped me up and plopped us both back onto his hammock.
The fact that we haven't fallen is astonishing.
Instead, I lie comfortably on his chest, with the gentle sway of the hammock as the only indicator that we have moved.
"We can come here whenever you want." His hand strokes my back gently, and his scent envelops me, instantly making me feel calmer.
"What's really bugging you?" I take a deep breath, wondering how to explain something like this to a man who has everything. Who is everything. Powerful. Important. Influential. And my husband.
"What happens now? What happens from here?" The rumble in his chest when he chuckles sends shivers down my spine. God, how is it possible for such a simple action to be so sexy? Perhaps the fact that he does it so rarely and that I am the reason makes it so addictive.
"We go home, we open your shop, we fuck all the time until your belly is full with my children, rinse, repeat and live happily ever after." He bucks his hips playfully, as if I need reminding of how that would come to be. It’s wholly unnecessary. I am well acquainted with that aspect of the plan.
I push myself up, resting my chin on my clenched hands to look at him. Silver-grey eyes glint in the sun that occasionally peeks through the leaves of the tree overhead. He seems so relaxed, which contrasts with the man who usually walks around in a suit with a scowl.
"You make it sound so easy, but it's not.
You're….well, you're you—head of the mafia.
I don't know what that entails, but I'm not stupid.
It's dangerous, and conceptually, it feels like a mountain I can't even climb.
How do I get up there, to the top where you are?
I don't know anything. I don't know the first thing about being part of the mafia, let alone married to its head.
Not to mention, I'm an outsider. Most people don't even want me here.
And what happens if the cops pi ck me up?
I don't know what I should say or shouldn't say.
What if they interrogate me or try to get me to tell them things about you? What if I make a mistake?"
I'm starting to ramble, and I can feel my blood pressure rising, as if I'm currently undergoing a similar interrogation.
"Shhh, stop, il mio fiorellino . Calm down. Firstly, you are already at the top of that metaphorical mountain with me. Secondly, no one will lay a hand on you. Not while I am alive."
"And if you're dead?" My voice cracks, and I look away when tears bubble up.
"Look at me," Dominico orders, his voice firm but compassionate. I comply, though the glassy look in my eyes is unnecessary for him to know my emotional state.
"I'm not going anywhere. I'm not that easy to take down, believe me."
I rub my finger over one of the scars on his chest, its existence attesting to as much.
The particular circular scar I am fingering was from a bullet wound he sustained three years ago in a shootout.
My finger moves to a long, thick one just beside it, obtained when his father threw a small pairing knife at him when he was thirteen.
Two different types of danger, but danger nonetheless.
My finger drifts from one to another, each having a story I now know.
Dominico had been very open to answering every question I asked, not shying away or sugarcoating anything.
I suppose in an attempt to prepare me for what was to come.
There was no point in buffering the reality I had to get used to.
"Besides, Nero, Dante, and Matteo are not just loyal to the Don. They are loyal to me. And to anyone I deem important to me. Which is you. If anything happened to me, they would never let anything happen to you. "
I know he is trying to comfort me, but hearing about a scenario in which he is no longer around does nothing but make me feel bad.
However, there was no use dwelling on a maybe.
This was now, and while we were here alone, the last thing I wanted to do was spend that time worrying about something that hadn't even happened.
I prop myself up to look at him, smiling as I poke him hard in the chest, which feels like poking a plate of steel.
"If anything happens to you, I'll kill you myself," I threaten, trying to use my most assertive tone.
"Mmm, is that right, little flower? And how exactly will you do that?" He palms my ass and squeezes it suggestively, his eyebrow raising questioningly.
"I'll sleep with someone else," I threaten, laughing when he spanks my ass hard. "When you come back to kill him, I'll kill you."
He growls, and then his fingers hone in on the ticklish spot on the sides of my belly, sending me into a fit of laughter.
He knows every part of my body, and this one is no exception.
He discovered it two nights ago and is now wielding it like a weapon.
I have never laughed as hard as I have in the last forty-eight hours.
"This pussy belongs to only me," he warns, his fingers curling around to graze the already buzzing wet spot between my legs.
"Say it." His fingers stroke, igniting my body while he orders me to admit something that is already a fact. I lean forward, my lips blushing his as I lock eyes with him.
"My pussy is yours, Daddy Dom."
And so is my heart.