Chapter 14
Sophie
The morning light, soft and golden, spilled through the sheer curtains, casting warm stripes across the bed.
I lay curled against Vittorio’s chest, my ear pressed to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
That sound—so constant, so strong—had become my anchor.
A reminder that we were safe. That I was safe.
For the first time since being dragged into this world of shadows and violence, I felt something unfamiliar settle in my chest.
Peace.
“It’s really over,” I whispered, barely daring to say it aloud. “He’s gone.”
Vittorio’s fingers traced slow, lazy circles along my spine. “Yes,” he murmured. “It’s done.”
We stayed like that for a while, wrapped in silence. The weight of Antonio’s presence was no longer suffocating me. No more watching my back. No more waiting for the next threat. The man who’d terrorized my life was gone—killed by the very hands I now rested against. Vittorio had ended it. For me.
I propped myself up on one elbow, my red hair tumbling over my shoulder as I looked down at him.
The morning light softened his sharp features, making him look almost innocent.
Almost. But it was his eyes—those piercing ice-blue eyes—that caught me.
There was something raw in them. Vulnerable, even.
“What happens now?” I asked, my voice quiet, uncertain.
"Now we live," he said simply. "No more looking over our shoulders for Antonio's next move.
No more wondering if today is the day everything falls apart.
" His hand found mine. "For the first time in years, we can actually plan a future instead of just surviving day to day.
I want to be present for this pregnancy, for our child's birth, for their first steps.
I want to be the kind of father I never had. " His voice softened.
Our child.
The words were still surreal, even as I placed a hand on my stomach. There was no bump. No fluttering. Just the knowledge that something precious had taken root inside me. A secret promise growing in silence.
"Do you really think you can change it?" I asked, the doubt bleeding into every word. "Three generations of violence, of blood feuds and betrayals. Can you really transform all of that?”
Vittorio sat up slowly, graceful and unshakable, still wearing his rumpled suit from the night before.
He cupped my face, his hands warm, grounding. “I helped build this world,” he said, voice low. “I’m the don now. I can rebuild it—one where our child doesn’t have to live in fear.”
I swallowed hard, emotion rising like a tide. “Is that why you want me? Because of the baby?”
His grip tightened, just enough to make me meet his eyes. “No,” he said firmly. “The baby is a miracle I didn’t deserve. But you—you were always more than that. You walked into my life and refused to bow. You challenged me. You survived me. How could I not want a woman like that at my side?”
My heart slammed against my ribs, wild and aching. No one had ever looked at me like this. Like I was strong. Like I was worth keeping.
“I choose you,” I said, voice steady even as everything inside me quaked. “Not because you saved me. Not because you’re the father of my child. But because I want you.”
Something dark and primal flashed in his eyes. He leaned in, brushing his lips over mine—tender and claiming all at once. I melted into the kiss, my fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer as his tongue teased mine, slow and possessive.
He pulled back just far enough to speak, his breath hot on my lips. “Prove it.”
I didn’t hesitate.
I swung a leg over his waist, straddling him, my body flush with his. He was already hard beneath me, and I couldn't stop the gasp that escaped as I ground against him. His hands slid down my back and grabbed my hips, pulling me closer, dragging a moan from deep in my throat.
He rested his hand low on my abdomen without a word, the gesture possessive and tender all at once. A silent acknowledgment of the life growing inside me.
A surge of need rushed through me—sharp and undeniable. I reached up and traced the hard angles of his jaw, needing him closer. When I pulled him up, our lips collided in a kiss that was all hunger and heat—weeks of tension breaking loose in a single breathless moment.
He rolled us over, pinning me beneath him, his body grounding me even as it set me on fire.
"You're mine," he growled against my neck, his breath ragged. "Not just because of the child. Because I want you. All of you."
His hands moved lower, cupping my thighs and lifting me into him. I moaned, nails digging into his shoulders as I felt the thick length of him pressing against my core, already aching for him.
I arched under him, my breasts straining against the thin fabric of my nightgown. His gaze darkened, a wicked smirk curving his lips. With agonizing slowness, he pushed the hem of my gown up, revealing my thighs, the curve of my hips, and the faint swell of my belly.
Heat rushed to my face, but I didn’t look away. I met his gaze with one of my own—bold, unafraid.
“Touch me, Vittorio,” I whispered, my voice thick with need. “Show me what it means to be yours.”
He didn’t wait.
His fingers slid between my thighs, finding me wet and wanting. I gasped as he sank one finger inside, then another, his thumb circling my clit in an unrelenting rhythm that made my hips jerk against him.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he muttered, voice low and wrecked. “So ready for me.”
Pleasure coiled in my belly, sharp and hot. “Please,” I begged. “I need you. Now.”
He growled in answer, pulling his fingers out with a wet sound that made me shiver. In seconds, his clothes were gone—his suit forgotten in a crumple on the floor. When he loomed over me, naked and powerful, I sucked in a shaky breath.
All hard muscle, dark hair, and sinful perfection.
“Spread your legs for me, Bella,” he said, voice like gravel dragged over silk.
I obeyed.
He knelt between my thighs, teasing me with slow, maddening strokes at my entrance until I whimpered. Then he thrust forward, burying himself in one long, powerful motion.
I cried out, my nails clawing at his back as he filled me completely.
“Ride me,” he ordered, hips snapping up in a brutal rhythm.
I wrapped my legs around his waist and met each thrust with one of my own, moving with him, for him. The bed shook beneath us, the headboard thudding against the wall in time with every desperate moan. His hands gripped my hips, guiding me harder, faster.
“Harder,” I gasped. “I want you to fuck me like you mean it.”
His eyes blazed, and he gave me everything.
Raw. Wild. Perfect.
The pressure built fast, unbearable in its intensity.
“Come for me, Sophie,” he growled. “Let me feel you lose control.”
I shattered.
Pleasure ripped through me, wave after blinding wave. I screamed his name, my body clenching as I fell apart in his arms. He followed with a hoarse curse, his body jerking as he spilled into me, anchoring himself deep.
We collapsed together, our breaths ragged, our hearts racing.
For a long moment, there was only silence. The tangle of limbs, the sweat-slick heat of our bodies, and the certainty that, for once, the world outside couldn’t touch us.
Vittorio’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me to his chest.
I curled into him, fingers trailing soft patterns on his skin, my lips pressed to the place where his heart still pounded.
“We’ll make it work,” he murmured, voice thick with promise. “For our child. For us. A fresh start—away from all this.”
A smile bloomed on my lips as I breathed him in.
“Together,” I whispered. “Always.”
Later, wrapped in tangled sheets and each other's arms, Vittorio pressed a kiss to my forehead.
"I have something to show you."
He led me down the hall to a room I'd never entered before. When he opened the door, I gasped. Sunlight spilled through floor-to-ceiling windows onto pale yellow walls. A half-assembled crib stood in the center, surrounded by boxes of baby furniture.
"You've been building a nursery," I breathed, stepping inside, my heart swelling with an emotion so powerful it threatened to bring me to my knees.
My fingers trembled as I touched the smooth wood of the crib.
A lump formed in my throat, making it difficult to swallow.
After weeks of terror, of running, of protecting this secret with every fiber of my being, here was tangible proof that my child—our child—would be safe.
That we could have a life beyond survival.
"I started it as soon as I learned about the baby." His arms wrapped around me from behind, his hands resting over mine on my stomach. The warmth of his touch sent a wave of security washing through me, melting the last of my defenses. "We will raise this child together. Not in fear, but in hope."
Overwhelming gratitude mingled with a fierce, protective love I'd never felt before. This man, who had stormed into my life with violence and threats, was now offering me the one thing I'd never dared dream possible—a family, safety, belonging.
I leaned back against him, tears blurring my vision. For the first time, I could see beyond survival to something I'd never dared imagine—a future.