7. Rematch
Chapter seven
Rematch
(Danica)
Consciousness creeps in slowly, accompanied by a hangover that feels like it's been crafted by Satan himself. When did I start getting hangovers?
Before I even open my eyes, I catch the rich scent of coffee mingling with the morning sun and hushed masculine voices.
They're by the window—my boys. The sight of them stops my breath for a moment.
Dante's robe hangs open at the chest, while Alessio has somehow squeezed himself into my silk robe, the fabric struggling valiantly to cover what it was never designed to hold.
They're whispering over steaming mugs, heads bent close, intimacy radiating from every line of their bodies.
Something warm unfurls in my chest at the sight. This could be my future—waking up to both of them, sharing quiet mornings and coffee-flavored kisses. Imagine?
Then reality crashes back like a tidal wave.
I should be waking up as Donna Fera today.
The thought brings everything else flooding back—gunshots scattering the crowd, roses stained with blood, Carlo's body growing cold in my lap. My throat closes up.
All those months of planning and for what? Just to have some disrespectful Russian dickheads destroy it all. It’s not right.
Poor Carlo.
I’m overcome by heavy sadness as the memory of his lifeless body on my lap torments me, digging its painful claws deeper into my flesh.
Sure, I gave Carlo hell, especially when I first arrived at the Fera household, but we’ve been through so much together since then.
Last year, for my birthday, he even gave me a wooden bookmark shaped like a stallion that he’d carved himself. It was the most special gift…
They won’t get away with it, I vow, wiping a stray tear.
This is not how our story is supposed to go.
"Ah, the Queen awakens." Alessio's voice is warm honey, but I hear the concern underneath. I try to school my features, to submerge down the grief, but I'm too slow.
The bed dips as Dante moves to me like the tide drawn to the shore. His arms envelop me, lips pressing gentle kisses across my face. "You're sad," he murmurs, those emerald eyes seeing straight through my defenses.
A sigh escapes as I burrow into his chest, seeking the steady thrum of his heartbeat. "Yesterday was a royal fuck-up, wasn't it?"
"I'm sorry, Tesoro." His voice rumbles against my ear. "We'll find those assholes. You'll get your big day."
The words should comfort me, but they land like stones in my stomach.
Before I can respond, Alessio joins us on the bed, his borrowed robe giving up any pretense of modesty. Despite everything, a smile tugs at my lips—trust Don Santoro to make even tragedy look somehow elegant.
"The next one will be even better. I'm sure we can pull something together in a few weeks, I—" Dante starts, but the mere thought of doing it all again makes my chest tight.
"No." The word comes out sharper than intended. "I don't want that. Not again. Please." I don’t want another perfect day to be ruined. Another white dress to be stained with blood. Another chance for someone else to die protecting us.
"I thought you might say that." Dante's voice is soft with understanding. "I'm sorry, my love. I know you wanted your big day to be special."
I smile weakly, kissing his hand and placing it over my chest. “It’s not that. I just really want to be your wife.” My head is pounding, but I don’t want to get up and do something about it. I’m too comfortable sandwiched between my Dons.
“You are already my wife. The wedding is just a formality.”
My fingers trace the lines of Dante's palm, seeking patterns in the calluses and scars.
"You know..." Alessio's voice breaks the silence, gentle as morning light. "You could always just come to Vegas and do what people do in Vegas?" A pause, careful. "It's quick, it's easy, and completely drama-free..."
Dante doesn't speak, but I feel the shift in his energy. His brow furrows, thoughts turning inward like clouds gathering before rain.
"But the guests..." The words taste stale in my mouth. "The expectations, the traditions?" Even as I say them, I hear how hollow they sound. How many of yesterday's guests came for us, really? How many came for power, for show, for obligation?
"I'm sure you could be forgiven, considering the circumstances.
" Alessio's hand finds mine, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.
His borrowed robe slips further, but none of us notice anymore.
"Besides, cara, this is about you, not what everyone else wants.
" His eyes, warm and knowing, hold mine. "What do you want?"
The question hangs in the air like smoke. What do I want?
"That does sound like less hassle." I turn to Dante, searching his face. "Can we get away with that?"
"I'm not sure..." Doubt clouds those emerald eyes I love so much.
"Please." My voice cracks slightly. "I just want the next part of our lives to begin."
Something softens in Dante's expression. He brings my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my palm like a seal on a promise. "Okay. Fuck it. We tried doing it the right way."
"Every way is the right way,” Alessio declares as he wraps us in his arms, pulling us closer together.
"I don't even know where to start planning..." The thought looms like a mountain.
"Don't you worry about that." Alessio's eyes sparkle with that look that usually means beautiful trouble. "Leave it all to me. You two just show up. I'll make sure it's special."
“I can’t ask that of you, I—”
“My gift, cara mia. I will hear no objections.”
I nod in quiet acceptance.
But the quiet doesn’t last, not when my mind immediately starts working on a to-do list again.
"I would need a new dress…” The ruined white gown flashes through my mind.
"Whatever you want. Take the card," Dante offers immediately.
Hope flutters in my chest. "Does it have to be white again?"
Dante shakes his head. “It doesn't have to be. Whatever your heart desires."
"I like the sound of that."
"You can invite your family if you want?" Alessio's offer is gentle, careful.
"No, thank you." The words come quick, firm. "If you and Emilio are there, that's the only family I need."
Alessio shoots Dante a look I can’t decipher, but Dante just shrugs. My family is a touchy subject, just like his.
Neither push me further on the matter. Thank fuck. I don’t have the strength to have that conversation right now. I’m sure at some point I’ll have to tell Dante why they refused to come to our wedding, why I was glad they weren’t there. But not today.
"Then it's settled," Alessio declares, his smile bright enough to chase away shadows. "Give me a few weeks."
I lean over, pressing my lips to his. He tastes of coffee and possibility. "Thank you."
"Only a pleasure, dear. Speaking of pleasure, I have to leave in an hour. Do you think we can fit in a quickie?” He winks, and my stomach instantly flutters in lust. My libido is always so high in the mornings.
I reach my hand into Alessio’s robe in answer, wrapping my fingers around his semi-erect cock.
“That sounds like the second-best idea you’ve had this morning.” Anything is better than replaying yesterday’s fiasco in my mind over and over again.
“Do you have to leave?” Dante asks, disappointment clear in his voice, and Alessio nods slowly in response. “You know it’s hard for me to get away from my responsibilities.”
“That’s not the only thing that’s hard.” I bend down to close my lips around Alessio’s tip, swallowing him whole as he grows to full hardness inside my mouth, until I can’t contain the size of him, and I gag, spitting him out again.
In a fumbling of body parts and kisses from all sides and all variations, we draw the orgasms from each other’s bodies until we’re lying there panting, sticky, satisfied.
There isn’t much time left for cuddling, but we make some anyway. I rest my head on Alessio’s chest while Dante big-spoons me, pressing my naked body tightly against both of theirs.
“I wish you could stay.” I sigh, kissing Alessio’s neck as I lazily trace patterns over his beautiful skin, mapping his tattoos.
“You’ll see me soon enough, don’t worry.” He strokes my hair, and I close my eyes for a moment, trying to hold onto the feeling that I know is impossible to hold onto.
“Sure,” I mumble, unsatisfied.
“Okay, shower time,” Alessio announces after a few minutes, breaking up the perfect morning after.
“I can help you?” Dante offers as Alessio untangles himself from our bodies.
“Don’t tempt me. I would never leave. No, not this time, darling.” He leans down to kiss us both and then disappears into the bathroom.
Dante pulls me closer to him, almost on top of him, locking his arms around my back and nearly squeezing all the breath from my lungs.
“It’s not too late to change your mind, Tesoro. You don’t have to marry me. Your life will be filled with endless chaos and death if you do.” His fingers find my hair, strokes in soothing patterns.
I shake my head vehemently. “You’re worth it. I don’t care about all that.”
Dante touches my cheek affectionately. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You’ve never hurt me before.”
“But there are a lot of other people who have. And so many more who will want to when you become Mrs. Fera.”
“I’m a grown-up; I can make my own decisions. You are my person. Fuck those people. For better or for worse, or however those vows go.”
“I’ll sort out this mess, don’t worry.”
“We’ll sort it out,” I correct him.
“It’s dangerous, Danica. You know I don’t like involving you in the business.”
“I want to be more involved. I’m going to be your wife. You can’t keep me wrapped in cotton wool.”
“But I need to protect you.” If I had a dollar for every time Dante uttered those words since he barged into my life four years ago…
“Fuck that patriarchal bullshit. I’m not a child anymore. This is a partnership.” I look at him sternly.
“Yes, Ma’am.” Dante sighs, knowing there is no way to win this one.
“That’s better, now…can I please have some coffee and an Aspirin? I’m dying over here.”
“Coming right up. Will bring you some water too.”
“Thanks, baby.” I kiss him deeply, and then he’s off, tying his robe firmly around his waist.
The room is so quiet without the boys, but it's also nice to have a second to catch my breath. Everything has been happening so quickly. It all still feels a bit like a movie rather than reality.
I trace the edge of the sheets where Dante lay moments ago, still warm from his body. Twenty-four hours ago, I was supposed to be saying, "I do.” Now, all I have of yesterday is a torn, bloody dress and empty champagne bottles.
With a sigh, I force myself to get up, catching my reflection in the mirror.
My tired and hungover eyes see only imperfections, magnified and ugly. The scars I usually manage to ignore seem to glow like neon signs advertising my damage.
What am I doing here? Playing dress-up in a world I don't belong in, pretending I can be some mafia Queen when I can barely tell my salad fork from my dinner fork?
The mirror has no answers, only more questions, so I look away, forcing my gaze out the window instead, over the grounds. Everything has been put back into place, righted like it has never been wronged. But my mind still remembers…
Alessio finishes before Dante does, strolling back into the room with his crisp white shirt yet to be buttoned.
“So, see you at your next wedding?” He grins, wrapping me in a hug as he kisses my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.
I roll my eyes at him. “Too soon.”
“Don’t worry, cara mia. You’ll be La Donna Fera soon enough. Nothing will stop that man from marrying you.”
I want to believe him but the words bring little of the intended comfort. “I don’t know if that’s even a good thing.” I lower my head. “He deserves more, someone with a better pedigree; someone who knows how wine pairings work.”
My insecurities are waging a war inside my fragile mind.
But Alessio is having none of that.
“Nonsense. You can learn those dumb things if you want to, but they don’t matter. You’re more powerful than you think, Danica. Don’t let the past define you. You’re not that person anymore.”
I nod, despite my mind still running a million miles an hour in the opposite direction. “Sure.”
Alessio tips my chin towards him and stares me down with those intense amber eyes that always see so much. “Listen to me, cara; there is no one in the world more suitable to stand by Dante’s side than you.”
I sigh, shifting my gaze.
“It will work out. Just give it some time,” Alessio tells me as he wraps his arms around me and holds me close, smothering me in his fresh aftershave. “See you in Vegas, okay?”
“Yeah, sure…”
For the first time, I’m not that excited to return to our shiny playground in the desert.
We need to take care of the threat first.