Chapter Twenty-Nine
Gualtiero
Iscoop Ella’s trembling body into my arms. Our breathing is labored, hers uneven, mine dragged from deep in my chest.
Fuck, she was glorious when she came. The image is already burned into me. I don’t think I could ever grow tired of the sight.
Meanwhile, I’m ready to explode, my cock hard as steel, aching for relief. If I don’t take her soon, my sanity will snap.
The temptation to have her right here is unbearable.
She’s flushed, half-undressed, her scent wrapping around me like a drug. Every instinct urges me to unzip my pants, sink into her heat, and finish what we started.
But this isn’t how I want our first time to be.
She’s not just any woman. She is the woman I’m going to marry. The mother of my future children. When I take her, it will not be in haste, not on a rooftop with witnesses close by and broken glass at our feet.
It will be deliberate.
Unforgettable.
We will make a memory we will cherish forever.
I force myself to pull back, and it costs me more than I will ever admit aloud.
The scent of her lingers in the air. The taste of her kisses still coats my tongue. My body protests the distance between us.
I want her. All of her.
And for that, she needs to trust me.
Because loving me will not always be easy. My world has rules. Lines that cannot be crossed. Decisions she may not understand in the moment.
If she is going to stand beside me, she will have to learn how that world works.
I will protect her from it.
But I will not bend it for anyone. Not even her.
Patience, I remind myself. Control is power.
She won’t trust me if I take her like an animal in a public place, even if no one would dare interrupt us. Ella doesn’t know how untouchable I am here. She only knows what she feels.
And what she feels matters.
She slides off the table, her skirt falling back into place. I bend to retrieve her panties and slip them into my pocket without comment. For later.
I watch her adjust her bra, then smooth her top. She avoids my eyes, color high in her cheeks.
I step forward and draw her gently back into my arms.
My hands frame her face, lifting it so she has no choice but to look at me. I kiss her slowly this time.
The way she melts into me fuels the fire in my veins anew.
God, I could drown in her.
Reluctantly, I pull back and smile. Her eyes shine up at me, and for a moment, I consider canceling everything else tonight and taking her home with me.
But I can’t.
Molinaro needs to be dealt with. Especially now that my angel is in my life.
One of his men leaked his whereabouts. It’s time we had a conversation.
One he will not walk away from.
I take Ella’s hand and guide her to the elevator. Santino and Mauro are waiting when we step off, their expressions carefully neutral.
When we reach the waiting cars, I toss her the keys.
Her eyes light up instantly.
“You’re really letting me drive your car?” she asks, practically vibrating with excitement.
I study her for a moment before answering. “I let you drive more than just my car,” I say lightly.
She blushes on cue.
God, I love putting that color on her cheeks.
I open the door for her, and she slides into the driver’s seat like she belongs there. The engine roars to life the second I settle beside her. She revs it once, twice, laughter spilling from her like champagne.
In front of us, Santino’s SUV pulls out. Ella eases in behind him, working the clutch smoothly, finding the bite point without hesitation.
“You’ve driven a Ferrari before.”
It isn’t a question. The way she handles my car is answer enough.
She grins, eyes still on the road. “Rhia hired one for me for my birthday last year as a surprise. We took it out on a coastal highway. Best day of my life.”
There’s nostalgia there. But something else too. Muscle memory.
“Can I overtake them?”
Her fingers tap lightly against the steering wheel, already restless.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” I ask, not teasing now. Assessing.
She glances at me briefly, confidence flashing in her eyes.
“I can hold my own. When Ma was alive, she and I did rally training. Dirt tracks, tight turns, handbrake slides. Our instructor said if you can control a car when it’s fighting you, you can control it anywhere.”
That explains the clutch. The weight shift. The way she reads corners.
A slow smile curves my mouth.
“I see.” I nod once. “Then go.”
She doesn’t hesitate. The Ferrari surges forward, engine snarling as she swings into the other lane and overtakes Santino with clean precision.
I lift a hand in mock apology as we pass him.
Within seconds, she’s carving through the road like she was born for it, putting distance between us and the other cars.
My phone rings almost immediately.
Santino. Of course.
“Si calmi,” I tell him calmly. “Non è un problema.”
I hang up and glance at Ella.
She’s anticipating corners perfectly, hitting her apexes with instinct rather than calculation. She adjusts her weight, feeling the car instead of forcing it.
The smile on her face is radiant.
“It’s too heavy in the front,” she mutters, frowning slightly.
“I had it fitted with long-range tanks,” I explain. “We’re running off the front reserve.”
She shoots me a quick look. “Why do you need long-range tanks?”
“Because I don’t like stopping to refuel,” I reply evenly.
It’s not the real reason. And she doesn’t need to know it yet.
“Haha. As if you would fuel up yourself,” she teases.
“True,” I say. “I have people for that.”
“Can you shift the fuel weight?”
“I can pump between tanks.”
“Do it.” There’s no hesitation in her tone.
I adjust the setting, redistributing the weight. The car responds immediately.
She grins.
Who is this woman?
The shy blush from minutes ago is gone, replaced by something sharper. Controlled. Capable.
I smile.
Something inside me settles.
My angel won’t wilt in my world. She will rise in it.
If she is going to stand beside me, she will need this fire. This confidence. This instinct.
I will not dim it.
But I will teach her when to use it.
And when not to.
“I think we should let Santino catch up now, or he might actually have a heart attack,” I say calmly.
She ignores me for a few more seconds, presses the accelerator once more, then finally eases off with visible reluctance.
“That was so good,” she breathes, cheeks flushed, eyes shining brighter than the dashboard lights. “This baby flies.”
Santino’s SUV roars up beside us and overtakes sharply. He glares as he passes.
Ella laughs. “Oops. I think I’m in trouble.”
I lean back, looking at her.
“Good thing I’m the only one who decides when you’re in trouble,” I murmur.
Her blush returns instantly.
Looks like my little innocent Ella is back.
God help me.
I can’t wait to show her what I have in store for us.
The way she shifts between fire and blush drives me half insane. That contrast. That surrender.
The thought alone makes me instantly hard.
Patience, I remind myself for the hundredth time tonight.
We pull up at her hotel, and she kills the engine, handing me the keys reluctantly.
“Thank you. That was, without a doubt, the best car I’ve ever driven,” she says, glowing.
I might just buy one for her for Christmas.
“My pleasure, princess.” I lift her hand and press a slow kiss to her knuckles. Her skin is soft. Too soft for the world I live in.
The urge to pull her onto my lap and continue what we started earlier presses hard against my restraint. Not now.
Reluctantly, I release her hand and step out, moving to her side. I wait until she places her hand in mine before helping her from the car, enjoying the familiar spark that travels up my arm at the contact.
I am about to guide her inside when she turns with a small, almost shy smile.
“No need to walk me up. Thank you for a… memorable night.”
She leans in and kisses my cheek.
After what happened on the rooftop earlier, she wants to put distance between us. For now, I allow it.
There are other matters that require my attention tonight. Matters that could put her in danger if I do not end them.
If Molinaro knew how important Ella has become to me in four short days, he would weaponize it without hesitation.
That will not happen.
“Prego,” I say smoothly. “Let me know if Rhia is working tomorrow. I’ll take you out on my boat. We can explore the islands.”
“That sounds lovely. Thank you, Tiero.”
Good.
She is not retreating, but just catching her breath.
I gather her into my arms once more and press a chaste kiss to her lips.
“Sweet dreams, princess.”
“Buonanotte,” she calls over her shoulder as she disappears inside.
I catch the eye of the man stationed by the entrance and give a single nod.
He inclines his head.
Santino approaches, still wearing that disapproving glare.
I allow myself a faint smile. “Lighten up.”
His jaw tightens, but he says nothing.
The warmth drains from me as I shift gears.
“Tutto pronto?” I ask.
He nods. “The men are already moving toward Molinaro’s villa.”
Good.
Molinaro rarely stays at his Sicilian estate. He prefers Rome, where layers of guards and bureaucracy make him feel untouchable. The villa here is secure, but not impenetrable. Six months of surveillance have given us weaknesses to exploit.
After last week’s car incident, I suspected he was on the island. This morning we confirmed it. One of his soldiers spoke after Santino persuaded him.
This war will end tonight.
I hand the Ferrari keys to one of my men and step into the SUV.
When we reach the staging point near the villa, I step out into chaos and raised voices.
Not what I ordered.
My men were instructed to wait.
Marcelo approaches quickly.
“We were hit the moment we arrived. We took most of them out, but there may still be some inside. Molinaro left two hours ago. Someone tipped him off. Lorenzo and Alfio were wounded. They will live.”
Someone tipped him off.
The heat that rises in me now is nothing like what Ella ignited. It hardens.
“Cazzo bastardo,” I say through gritted teeth.
He ran like the coward he is.
“Find anyone still breathing and get answers,” I instruct evenly. “Then burn everything. Nothing remains standing. No witnesses.”
Marcelo nods and moves.
Santino and I return to the vehicles.
Molinaro knew we were coming.
Which means someone talked.
“Santino,” I say calmly, “find whoever warned him. Bring him to me.”
He glances at me, understanding exactly what that means.
“It is time to remind everyone what betrayal costs.”
I cannot afford a mole. Not now. Not with Ella in the picture.
If Molinaro learns how much time I have spent with her, how much she matters, he will try to use her.
That will not happen.
I dial Alonso.
“She’s fine,” he assures me. “In her room.”
“Double the perimeter,” I reply. “All entries and exits covered.”
The sooner she is under my roof, the better.
Next, I call Mateo. He answers immediately.
“Molinaro wasn’t there.” I tell him without greeting. “Someone warned him.”
A curse explodes on the other end.
“We have a mole.”
More swearing.
“Have you made leeway in Tuscany?” I ask.
“The shipment arrived. But something feels wrong,” Teo says.
“Then apply pressure.”
“Don’t worry. I will.”
“Why did you answer your phone right away? I thought you’d be balls-deep in the little redhead.”
“I was waiting for your call.”
“Rather than fucking? You’re bored already?”
“You know me,” he says with a low chuckle. “I like variety. Romeo seems more than happy to keep her entertained.”
His tone shifts, business sliding back into place.
“With Molinaro loose, we need to double security around Ella.”
That earns the first real smile from me since I left her at the hotel.
We.
He understands how important she is to me. Without question, even though this is new.
“Already handled.”
When I saw him yesterday, he opened the good whiskey. The bottle we reserve for milestones. He poured two glasses and toasted to Mrs. Ella De Marco.
“How was your date?” he asks.
“Memorable,” I answer simply. “She surprised me.”
I tell him about Santino chasing us when she took off in the Ferrari. Mateo laughs.
“You’ll have your hands full.”
I chuckle. “I intend to.”
The convoy of cars pulls up at my house. I end the call and head for my study. There is work to be done. I need to come up with a new plan to draw out Molinaro.
But my thoughts drift back to my angel.
The way she trembled.
The way she trusted me.
The way she fell apart.
She was perfection in my hands.
My body tightens, my cock hardening all over again.
I reach into my pocket and retrieve her panties, bringing them to my nose and inhaling slowly.
Tomorrow, I decide.
Tomorrow I’ll have her and end this torture.