Chapter 18
Katarina
I am in the backseat of the SUV, surrounded by Nina’s chic paper bags, their expensive logos glaring up at me, almost taunting, as if to remind me how little I belong in all this, and how chaotic my life feels in comparison.
Outside, the Sicilian street blurs with vibrant colors, but all I can see is that damn boutique.
Damiano is still standing at the sidewalk with Nina. He holds up a lighter for her as she lights up her cigarette. Her hand is on his arm, her head tilting back as he makes her laugh. There is an annoying ease in the way they occupy the same space.
"Who is she, Gio?" I ask, no longer able to contain my curiosity. My voice is quiet, though my heart is thundering with a feeling I refuse to name.
Gio doesn't look back from the driver’s seat.
"Nina Soleri," he says, his tone surprisingly gentle. "She’s the older sister of one of Damiano’s best friends. And his ex-fiancée."
The word fiancée felt like a slap. For a second, I couldn’t breathe. Of course, there was someone before—someone perfect, someone chosen. Suddenly, I have nowhere to put my hands, so I cross my arms above my chest to hide them.
"They were engaged?" I merely whispered.
"A long time ago," Gio clears his throat before saying, looking at me through the rearview mirror.
Disappointment, harsh and bitter, floods my chest. He brought me to see not only his ex-girlfriend but his ex-fiancée.
"It's how things are done here. Families build bridges through marriage. It was just a contract, really. If not Nina, he would have married someone else from another family." Gio adds, and I catch a remorseful look on his face that makes me feel even smaller.
His words hang in the air as I stare out the window. Everything is business in the world of criminals, even marriage. Is that why he didn’t want to be with me? Because I wasn't a "bridge" to another empire?
"Hey," Julian says from the passenger seat, turning around to look at me. He sees my set jaw and clears his throat. "So, the hair. The hairdresser is coming tonight. Have you decided on a color? Are we going full pink, or something even crazier?"
I try to force a breath into my lungs. “I haven’t really decided on anything yet,” I say.
“What about blonde?” Julian suggests eyebrows raised, nodding at Gio.
“Blonde is good. I could see it. Blonde is beautiful. Damiano likes blondes.” Julian shakes his head and frowns at Gio as they fail at their futile attempt to comfort me.
“I’m never going blonde!” I snap, shooting a glare at them through the rearview mirror.
Just then, the car door opens, and Damiano slides in beside me, the acrid smell of cigarette smoke clinging to his jacket.
“No blonde?" he asks, his voice a low, amused rumble, as Julian and Gio fall silent.
“?Callate!” I snap.
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he holds his hands up in mock surrender.
The drive back to the villa is silent, but the air is thick with my simmering irritation. When we arrive, I scramble out of the car and head straight for the stairs. I reach the suite and throw the shopping bags onto the armchair, huffing as I try to reach the zipper of my dress.
The door clicks shut behind me.
When I look back, Damiano is leaning against the doorframe, his tie loosened, and a maddening smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, thoroughly enjoying watching me struggle.
When he steps closer to help with the zipper, I shove his hands away, the abrupt motion sending a sharp pain through my shoulder, and I wince.
∞∞∞
Damiano
I chuckle as I watch Katarina try to wrestle with the zipper of her new dress. Her anger at me is clearly testing her patience.
"You’ve been pouting since the boutique," I tease, and she doesn’t acknowledge me at all.
"You look cute, Dolcezza, but I think that zipper is winning the fight."
She whirls around, her face flush with heat. "I am not pouting! And I certainly don't need your help with anything. Why don't you go back to town? I'm sure Nina has a lighter you can hold for her."
I let out a laugh that vibrates in my chest. I grab her waist and wrap my arms around her from the back, my movements slow and deliberate.
"Nina? Is that what this is about?" I whisper in her ear as I start to sway us to a slow rhythm that I know she loves. For a moment, she lets me, then she turns around, nostrils flaring in anger.
"How come you never told me you were engaged?" she shouts, crossing her arms. "You never mentioned you had a perfect, high-fashion wife waiting for you here!"
"Katarina," I say, leaning my head just inches from her stunning face. "Our families signed an agreement. It was about as romantic as a tax return."
She snorts.
“Liar!” She huffs and walks away from me. “You were both giggling like giddy teenagers!”
When I catch up to her, I pull her into my arms again and press my body to hers. Enjoying the wrath of jealousy, she has never shown before.
"I was laughing because she told me I looked like I’d been hit by a truck. Cause you know, I have this woman who turned my life upside down, and I can’t seem to stay away from her." I say, reaching out to cup her face with my hands, my words shutting her up, finally.
She rolls her eyes and turns away, refusing to look at me. So I kiss her cheek, then her neck, and lift her from the floor. She gasps in surprise, but her legs wrap around my waist anyway.
"She’s a friend, Dolcezza, Nothing more," I say as I walk us towards the bed and lay her down gently. When I’m on top of her, I kiss her cheek, then her chin, then her neck until she lets out a sigh.
"I don't believe you," she mutters, though her resolve is melting underneath.
"No?" I ask, pulling away to look at her eyes, her breath warm against my lips. "Then why is your heart racing? Why are you looking at my mouth like you want to bite me?"
"I want to slap your face, that’s what I wanna do,” she whispers, though her hands have somehow found their way to the lapels of my jacket.
"Do it," I challenge, dropping my voice to an intimate whisper. "I wouldn’t be opposed to a bit of slapping here and there."
“Shut up.” She says.
“I’ll do anything you want, baby. You know I’m yours.” I growl, planting more kisses on her face then down her neck.
I don’t whisper another word.
I pull back, then crash my mouth onto hers in a kiss.
She kisses me back, hard, her good hand fisting my hair, pulling me closer. Her jealousy fuels every stroke of her tongue. It makes me burn. I slide my hand under her dress, pushing the fabric up around her waist. She doesn’t stop me. Instead, she arches into my touch.
I break the kiss and move down her body, trailing my mouth over her neck, her collarbone, then her full breasts. Then I push her dress higher and settle between her thighs. She looks down at me, eyes dark and breathless.
“Damiano…” I don’t answer with words. I spread her legs wide, pushing the fabric of her panties aside so I could taste her. She gasps, her hips jerking at the first slow lick. I take my time, savoring her, circling her clit with my tongue before sucking gently.
“You taste so fucking good,” I growl.
Her hands fly to my hair, fingers tightening as I work her with long, deliberate strokes.
“Yess… just like that,” she moans, hips rolling against my mouth.
As I feel her getting wetter, I slide two fingers inside her, curling them slowly while my tongue keeps the same unhurried rhythm.
She’s trembling, her breath coming in gasps.
I can feel her getting closer until her thighs tighten around my head.
When she comes, she cries my name, her back arching off the bed, thighs shaking around me. I don’t stop until she’s ridden every wave, until she’s gasping and whimpering for me to stop.
I kiss my way back up her body, tasting all of her. She looks so wonderfully wrecked, eyes glassy, face flushed, and chest heaving. I reach into the nightstand, grab a condom, and tear it open. She watches as I take off my clothes and roll the condom on, her gaze dark with need.
When I settle between her thighs again, the head of my cock nudges at her entrance.
“Tell me you want this,” I rasp, voice rough.
She nods, then whispers, her eyebrows knitting together in a silent plea, “I want you...”
As soon as I hear her needy whisper, I push inside her in one slow, deep thrust. She moans loudly, her nails digging into my shoulders. I give her a moment to adjust, then start moving—slow at first, savoring the tight heat of her. But the slower I go, the more she demands.
Then she wraps her legs around me and pleads, “More, please.”
I lose the last of my control at that. I thrust harder and deeper. She meets every stroke, her hips rising to take me, her moans turning into cries.
“Look at me,” I growl, voice strained. “I need to see you while I fuck you.”
Her eyes lock on mine, glassy and desperate. “Damiano… fuck… I hate how much I need this… how much I need you.”
The words hit like cocaine.
I lean down, forehead pressed to hers, thrusting deep and steady.
“You think I don’t need you?” I rasp, voice breaking. “Every day, I’ve been fighting this. Fighting how much I fucking want you.”
She cries out as I hit that perfect spot inside her again and again.
“Take me,” she gasps, nails raking down my back. “Don’t hold back…”
I thrust harder, faster, my voice rough against her ear.
“You’ve ruined me for anyone else, Dolcezza.”
She comes with a broken scream of my name, her walls pulsing around me so tightly it drags me over the edge with her.
I groan her name as I spill into the condom, hips stuttering against hers, holding her like I never want to let go.
We stay locked together for a long moment, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together.
I pull out slowly, take off the condom, and dispose of it in the trash before returning to her. She’s still flushed and breathing heavily on the bed. I climb back in and pull her against my chest, wrapping my arms around her possessively, one hand cradling the back of her head.
“You’re mine,” I murmur against her hair, voice low and rough.
“Every part of you. I don’t care how angry you get.
I don’t care how much you fight me. I’m keeping you, even if you hate me for it.
” She doesn’t answer right away, but she presses closer, her fingers curling into my side.
Still holding her, I pull back just enough to look into her eyes.
“Still jealous?” I murmur, a small smirk tugging at my lips.
“I’m not jealous,” she breathes, her heart fluttering against my chest.
“Okay,” I whisper, giving her chin a playful nudge.
Just then, my gaze dropped to her bare wrist. I reach into the pocket of my trousers on the floor and produce the small, black velvet box.
“What is that?” she asks.
I don’t answer with words. Instead, I take her hand and open the box. Inside lies a platinum cuff bracelet. The center of the band is forged into an intricate, seamless nautical knot. Embedded deep within the metal are three blood-red rubies, glowing like embers.
Snap.
The metal locks with a crisp, expensive click. It fits perfectly snug against her wrist.
“What is this, Damiano?”
“A promise,” I say, my voice a low, rough rasp. “A promise that I will always keep you safe. No matter what happens, you are under my protection. Always.” I lean in, pressing a lingering kiss to the pulse point just above the gold.
“Don’t try to take it off, baby. Only I have the key.” I pull out the small, matching gold key and smirk.