Chapter 21
EMILIA
Nico had barely left the house and it was time to put my plan in to action.
I watched as the men moved the box spring and mattress into the room.
They all looked at me out of the corners of their eyes, confusion and barely concealed amusement written across their faces.
Putting my hands on my hips, I smiled, but I wasn't nearly done.
This was just the beginning of making my point.
"Camilla," I called as I walked into the kitchen.
She was at the stove stirring something in a big pot.
It smelled amazing, garlic and tomatoes and fresh basil, and I leaned toward it and smelled.
"I'm going to gain so much weight living here. "
"Oh dear, you need to." She patted my rear end like a Nonna would, and I couldn't help but smile. The gesture was so maternal, so different from anything my own mother had ever done. "Now, discussing your weight wasn't why you came flying in here like a bat out of hell."
"I need some sheets and a duvet." I crossed my arms and leaned against the counter.
"I can have the housekeeper go change the sheets. Is there a problem?" She didn't stop stirring but looked up at me, concerned.
"No, this is something I don't want the housekeeping staff involved in. A few of the men who helped me don't concern me, but I won't include anyone else." I shook my head and waited. Camilla pulled the pot of sauce off the burner and clicked it off, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Come with me." I followed the woman up the stairs, past my room and to the large closet at the end of the hallway.
The linen closet was bigger than my bedroom had been at my father's house.
She pulled out extra sheets and handed them to me, and grabbed a big comforter, the fabric soft and expensive, before she marched back toward my room.
"No, Camilla, please, I don't want." She ignored my plea and opened the door, staring at the scene before her. Two beds, in a room where there should only be one.
"Thank you for keeping the staff out of this; it's not going to end well.
" She pushed the large blanket into my arms and walked out of the room, shaking her head.
Giggling, I made the extra bed and looked at the his-and-hers beds that were sure to drive him crazy.
The beds looked ridiculous, like something out of a 1950s sitcom. Perfect.
He said he would be late, but it was much later than I expected.
The clock had passed midnight, then one, then two.
I hated thinking about what he was doing or where he was.
Every time he went out, it was risky, but I knew he had a good team around him whose sole purpose was to keep him safe.
Still, the worry ate at me, making it hard to concentrate on my book.
When the front door slammed shut, I heard low voices in the entryway, footsteps on the stairs, and the doorknob turning.
Oh shit, what have I done? This was a stupid idea.
Too late, he sees it. "What the actual fuck.
" He bellowed. The door to our room was slammed so hard, I was sure the frame was going to splinter.
The sound echoed through the room like a thunderclap.
I didn't look up, I stared at my book. The only thing I was reading over and over was the author's name. My eyes wouldn't focus on anything else. "Emilia?" He growled.
"Hmm, oh hi Nico, when did you get home?" I tore my eyes away from the book and looked up at my husband for the first time since he'd stomped over to my bed. I didn't greet him with a smile; I was still mad at him, so he didn't get a pleasant greeting from me.
"You know damn well when I got home. What is this?"
"Well, you don't look like anyone turned you into Swiss cheese.
I suppose I'm grateful for that." Letting my eyes flitter back to the book in my lap, I waited.
But he walked away. The bathroom door closed with much less force than the one to our room.
I heard the shower turn on, and I breathed a sigh of relief, but I knew this wasn't good.
He was too calm; he was a man whose survival relied on his keeping his cool.
He was in there planning, while I sat here worrying. He was probably plotting my demise.
Ten minutes passed, and I was sure my eyes were going to fall out of my head with the number of times I'd looked up at the clock.
The bathroom door swung open, and I watched a naked Nico walk to his bed.
Water still clung to his skin, droplets trailing down his chest. Even in the low light, he was something to look at.
Are you sure you're mad at him? My brain was a fickle thing.
Of course, I was mad at him; there wasn't even a question.
He turned and walked over to where I was sitting. "Move over." It wasn't a growl, but it was a command.
"Excuse me?"
"Move over, Emilia."
"Oh no, this is my bed, yours is over there." I pointed at the bed across from the one I was in.
"I told you the day we were married, you would sleep by my side every night, so move over."
"My bed, my rules. If you think you need to sleep next to me, you can sleep on the other side.
" I tried to hide my smile as his nostrils flared and he clenched his jaw.
Before I could gloat about getting to him, his arms went under me, and I was lifted from the bed, then suddenly dropped on the other side.
"Oof," I exclaimed as I hit the mattress.
"I sleep between you and the door." He climbed into the bed and flicked off the light I'd put beside the bed. "Good night, wife." Nico rolled over onto his side and punched the pillow under her head.
"Nico, there are rules for my bed; you have to wear clothes next time you think you're sleeping here."
"I won't be in this bed tomorrow, and neither will you." He mumbled. "Don't forget we have the hospital gala tomorrow."
"You'll have to attend without me, I'm not in the mood to play your adoring wife," I said as I dropped my book to the floor, settling under the covers.
"We are going as a couple. Your dress has already been purchased, and you will be ready at five.
Cocktails are at six-thirty, but it will take us an hour to get to the venue.
" He sighed, and I turned to look over at him.
There was a small bandage on his shoulder, white gauze stark against his tan skin.
How had I missed that when he'd come back from the bathroom?
"Nico, what happened to your shoulder?" I wanted to reach out and touch it, but we weren't in that spot right now, because of what I was doing.
"It's nothing, Emilia."
"Bull shit, it's nothing, Nico, talk to me.
" My voice rose with concern. I reached out and touched his arm, my fingers gentle on his bicep.
He didn't pull away, but he didn't reach for me either.
I lay back on my pillow, and I couldn't stop the silent tears that fell, hot and frustrated, sliding down my temples into my hair.
"Don't cry, Emilia." His words were whispered. "I was grazed, it's going to be fine. Not much more than a scratch. Go to sleep."
Staring at the ceiling, Nico's body heat radiated through the sheets, and my conscience decided now was the time to kick into gear. Maybe the separate beds had been a mistake. Maybe I'd gone too far.
At some point, I finally dozed off, but the shrill ring of a phone startled me awake.
Sighing, I enjoyed the feeling of Nico's arms around me and settled back into him.
Opening my eyes, I looked at the man beside me.
My leg draped across his bare body, a hand splayed open on his chest, feeling him breathe, and the other resting on his cock.
Oh my god, how do I move my hand without making him aware of what I'm doing? Oh my god, I'm touching his cock. Oh. My. God. He was hard, thick and warm under my palm.
"What?" He grumbled into the phone. His voice was hard, commanding, and no matter how angry he'd been with me, it wasn't the same.
This was the don, the man who controlled an empire.
"Send a message, leave him on the front step of his wife's house, then take the brother and dump him outside his parents’ home.
Let everyone know this won't be tolerated.
I don't care about blowback, this was a Five decision, anyone who wants to challenge us will be one less family we have to fucking deal with.
" This was business, Nico, and as fierce as I thought I was, there was a reason he terrified anyone who crossed him.
The cold calculation in his voice sent shivers down my spine.
"No, find out where they're from and either get them back there, or send them where they want to go. Give them enough to get through a few days." He dropped the phone back on the table beside him and sighed, the sound heavy with exhaustion.
"Does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?" He asked, his voice lighter, but tired.
"Take your hands off me," I said as I tried to sit up, but it only made him tighten his hold.
"You're the one who moved over here in the middle of the night, resting your head on my chest, so this is all on you." He chuckled and held me tighter to him, making my hand rub his now fully awake member.
Moving my hand away from him, I tried to pull back, but there was no point fighting this man. If he wanted to hold onto me, I wouldn't be able to break free. "Nico, I don't want to be treated like a child."
"Even though you're acting like one?" He lowered his hand on my hip and grabbed a handful of my ass.
"Shut up."
"You've just proven my point."
Rolling my eyes and shaking my head, I sighed. "I know it's not how it's done, but I'm not just another wife. There's so much more I can do than host dinner parties and fluff the drapes."
"I have staff to fluff the drapes, and I hate dinner parties.
If anything ever happened to you, amore, I wouldn't be able to live with it.
But I wouldn't mind your input. You're right, you infiltrated a lot of places, and people trusted you because they thought you didn’t matter.
Word will get around, and there will be a target on your back, but we'll deal with that when it happens.
" His voice had changed to a whisper, and I looked up to him.
His eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed together, and it seemed like someone had taken his best friend. Like he was imagining the worst.
"Thank you." My heart felt lighter knowing I was useful to him. "You know all you have to do is say the word and I'll be there standing with you."
"I know and thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate your loyalty." He kissed the top of my head, his lips warm against my hair.
Loyalty, that was it. What this life was built on. My vow of loyalty was more important than our marriage vows. The realization settled over me, heavy and final. I belonged to him now, not just as a wife, but as a soldier in his army.