Page 61 of Beautifully Broken

“Papa,” she cries, burying her face in his shoulder.

He looks at us, tears streaming down his face. “You found her. You brought my girl back. How can I ever thank you?”

“You don’t need to,” I say, my voice thick. “Just take care of her. Love her. Keep her safe.”

I don’t know what else they might have done to her; I doubt the rest of her life will be any easier than mine has been .

We step back, giving them space, as the police take our statements.

The kidnappers, they tell us, are part of a small trafficking ring, preying on solo travelers at the airport.

They’d targeted Lena, lured her to the van with a fake story about a shuttle, and planned to move her off the island by boat that night. We’d gotten there just in time.

As the police wrap up, we climb back into the SUV, exhausted but wired. Daddy drives us to the villa, the silence heavy but not uncomfortable. I lean against his shoulder, Uncle Tony’s arm draped over the back of my seat, Nonno’s hand resting on my knee.

“You were incredible, Sasha,” Daddy says quietly, glancing at me. “Brave, smart, determined. You saved her.”

“We saved her,” I correct, looking at each of them. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You trusted me, followed me into danger, and we did this together.”

“Damn right we did,” Uncle Tony says, a tired grin spreading across his face. “Team Santini for the win.”

Nonno chuckles, his green eyes warm. “I’d say we make a decent rescue squad, though I hope this isn’t a regular vacation activity. I’m getting tired of finding these situations on my doorstep every so often.”

I laugh, the sound surprising me. “No promises. But for now, I think I’m ready for that pool and some wine. And food.”

“Music to my ears,” Daddy says, pulling into the villa’s drive.

We spill out of the car, the tension of the day melting into the warm Santorini night. Uncle Tony cannonballs into the pool, splashing us all, and I laugh again, freer this time. Daddy pulls me close, kissing my temple, while Nonno pours wine, handing me a glass with a knowing smile.

“To us,” he toasts, raising his glass. “To family, to courage, and to second chances.”

“To second chances,” I echo, clinking my glass against theirs.

I look out at the sea, the stars glittering above, and feel something shift inside me.

The guilt, the fear, the weight of Trevor—it’s still there, but it’s lighter now.

I didn’t save Mia, but I helped save Lena.

And with these men by my side, I’m starting to believe I can face anything .

“Alright, beautiful,” Uncle Tony says, emerging from the pool, dripping and grinning. “Your turn. Into the pool—doctor’s orders.”

“Doctor of keeping Sasha Santini happy?” I tease, setting my glass down.

“Damn straight,” he says, scooping me up and jumping back in, both of us laughing as we hit the water.

Daddy and Nonno follow, and for the first time in hours, I feel whole—surrounded by love, buoyed by hope, and ready for whatever this vacation, and this life, brings next.

***

The Santorini night deepens into velvety darkness, the air thick with the scent of salt and flora.

The villa’s private beach stretches before us, a crescent of pale sand glowing under the silver moonlight, the Aegean Sea whispering against the shore in a gentle, rhythmic caress.

After the day’s chaos, I feel alive, raw, and ready to let go.

The men, my men, sense it too.

Daddy’s hand lingers on my wrist, Uncle Tony’s gaze burns with a possessive heat, and Nonno’s quiet intensity anchors me as we slip away from the villa, barefoot, the sand cool and gritty beneath our toes.

“Sasha, you sure about this, sweetheart?” Daddy murmurs, his voice low, his silver-threaded hair catching the moonlight as he studies me. His dark eyes are fierce, protective, a silent claim that makes my pulse race.

“Yes,” I breathe, my heart pounding. I’m always in control, work, life, even my healing, but tonight, I want to surrender. “I trust you. All of you. Take me here, outside. I’m yours to command.”

The first time I let them do this was over my ex’s grave, with the same frantic energy in the air.

Uncle Tony growls, stepping closer, his broad, muscular frame towering over me. “Ours, tesoro. No one else gets this. No one else touches you.” His calloused hand brushes my cheek, rough yet tender, sending a shiver down my spine .

Nonno, ever the steady one, moves behind me, his presence a warm wall against my back. “Piccolina, you’re ours to cherish,” he says, his voice smooth, authoritative, his silver hair glinting as he leans in, breath hot against my neck. “Tell us what you want, and we’ll give it to you. Everything.”

I nod, my skin tingling, the sea’s murmur blending with the rush of blood in my ears. “I want you, all of you; here, now. Take control. Make me feel you. Please. Remind me I belong to you.”

They exchange a look, a silent agreement, their possessiveness a tangible thing.

Daddy steps forward first, his elegant hands cupping my face, his lips finding mine in a slow, deep kiss.

His woody cologne fills my senses, mingling with the salt air, and I melt into him, my fingers tangling in his shirt.

His tongue traces mine, too gentle, and I feel the weight of his desire, the way he’s staking his place as mine.

“Ours to kiss,” he whispers against my lips, pulling back enough to watch me, his eyes dark with need.

He tugs my sundress up, the fabric sliding over my thighs, cool air brushing my skin as he lifts it over my head and tosses it to the sand.

I’m bare beneath, the moonlight painting my curves, and his breath hitches, a possessive sound rumbling in his chest.

Uncle Tony’s rough hands find my waist, turning me to face him, his grip firm, unyielding.

“Ours to hold,” he says, his gravelly voice thick with want.

He kneels, his lips brushing my stomach, warm and rough, trailing lower as the sand shifts beneath his knees.

His hands slide to my hips, pulling me closer, and I gasp as his mouth finds the sensitive skin just above my core, teasing, tasting.

His eyes flick up, fierce, locking with mine.

“No one else gets to see you like this, tesoro. Just us.”

I tremble, heat pooling low in my belly, my hands gripping his broad shoulders for balance. The waves lap at the shore, a steady counterpoint to my ragged breathing.

Nonno’s hands move to my shoulders from behind, his fingers strong, deliberate, kneading the tension from my muscles.

“Ours to please,” he murmurs, his lips grazing my ear, then my neck, a slow, hot trail that sends sparks across my skin. His hands slide down, cupping my breasts, thumbs brushing my nipples until they pebble, and I moan, arching into his touch.

“Sasha,” Daddy says, stepping closer, his voice a low command. “Lie down for us.” His tone is gentle, firm, with an edge of control that makes my knees weak.

I obey, sinking to the sand, the grains cool and soft against my back, the sea’s whisper a soothing backdrop.

Daddy kneels beside me, his hands tracing my thighs, parting them with a possessive tenderness. His fingers explore, slow and deliberate, finding my slick heat, and I whimper, my hips shifting toward him.

“Look at you,” he growls, his eyes blazing. “So beautiful, so ours.” His fingers tease, circling, igniting a fire that makes me writhe, my hands clutching the sand, grains slipping through my fingers.

Uncle Tony moves to my other side, his hands claiming my hips again, lifting me slightly as he kisses his way up my inner thigh.

“Ours to taste,” he rumbles, his breath hot against me before his mouth descends, his tongue bold and insistent, lapping at my core.

I cry out, the sensation overwhelming, the warmth of his mouth a contrast to the cool night air.

His grip tightens, possessive, grounding me as pleasure coils tight inside me.

Nonno kneels above me, his eyes piercing, watching every quiver, every gasp. “Ours to adore,” he says, his voice a steady command. He leans down, his lips capturing a nipple, sucking gently, then harder, his hand massaging the other, fingers rolling the sensitive peak.

The dual assault of Uncle Tony’s mouth between my legs, Nonno’s on my chest drives me wild, my body arching, desperate.

“Tell us what you need, Sasha,” Nonno orders, his tone firm, his hand sliding up to cup my face, thumb brushing my lips. His possessiveness wraps around me, a shield and a claim, and I feel safe, cherished, utterly theirs.

“More,” I gasp, my voice trembling, my body alight. “You, all of you… I need you inside me, please.”

Daddy’s hands still, his eyes locking with mine, a silent question.

I nod, and he shifts, unbuttoning his shorts, freeing himself; hard, ready, his desire for me clear in the reddening tip.

Uncle Tony moves away, leaving me dripping and on the edge of release .

“You’re ours, sweetheart,” he says, positioning himself between my thighs, the sand shifting beneath him.

He enters me slowly, a steady thrust, filling me, and I moan, my hands reaching for him, nails digging into his arms. His rhythm is controlled, deliberate, each movement a claim, his eyes never leaving mine.

Uncle Tony growls, his hands still on my hips, guiding me, his lips brushing my ear. “Ours, tesoro. Only we get to feel you like this.” His hands roam my sides, my stomach, stoking the fire as Daddy moves, deep and sure, filling me as perfectly as only these three men can.

Nonno shifts, kneeling closer, his hand guiding mine to him. He’s freed himself, his length thick, straining, and I stroke him, my fingers trembling.

“Ours to love,” he murmurs, his voice a low command, his hand covering mine, guiding my rhythm. His eyes burn with possession, watching me pleasure him as Daddy drives into me, the sensations blending—Daddy’s steady thrusts, Uncle Tony’s rough hands, Nonno’s controlled guidance.

The sea’s rhythm matches ours, waves seeming to crash in time with my gasps, the salt air mingling with the musk of our bodies, the sweet scent of sex I’ve come to love.

My skin is slick with sweat, sand clinging to my back, my thighs, a gritty reminder of this wild, raw moment. Cleanup will be Hell, but right now, none of us care.

Uncle Tony’s grip shifts, one hand guiding me down, his voice a rough whisper, “Sasha, tesoro, take me.” I lower my mouth, my lips closing around him, and he groans, his fingers tangling in my hair as I move, taking him in, my tongue tracing him as he guides me gently but firmly.

Pleasure builds, a tight coil in my core, and I surrender fully, letting them take me, their possessiveness a heady balm to my usual control.

“Mine,” Daddy groans, his pace quickening, his hands gripping my thighs, pulling me closer. His thrusts deepen, hitting a spot that makes me cry out, my body trembling, so close.

“Ours,” Uncle Tony growls, thrusting deep into my throat in time with Daddy inside me, and Nonno in my hand. His touch is firm, unyielding, a promise no one else will ever have me. I belong to them .

“Always ours,” Nonno says, his voice steady, commanding, his hand tightening over mine as I stroke him, his breath hitching. He leans down, kissing me deeply, his tongue claiming my mouth, and I’m lost, surrounded by them, their love, their need.

The coil snaps, pleasure crashing through me like the waves against the shore. I cry out, my body arching, clenching around Daddy as I come, stars bursting behind my eyes. Daddy follows, a low groan escaping him, his release hot and deep, his hands gripping me tight, possessive to the last.

Nonno’s breath stutters, and I feel him tense, his release spilling over my hand, a warm claim as he murmurs my name, “Sasha, piccolina.”

Uncle Tony’s hands tighten on me, his lips at my ear. “You’re ours, tesoro,” he whispers, his voice rough, reverent, as he holds me through the aftershocks, his touch grounding me, even as his hot cum floods my throat. I swallow around him, taking all of it inside me like the gift it is.

We collapse together, the sand cool beneath us, the sea’s whisper a gentle lullaby.

Daddy pulls me close, his arm draped over my waist, his breath warm against my shoulder.

Uncle Tony lies beside me, his hand resting possessively on my hip, while Nonno settles above, his fingers tracing my cheek, his green eyes soft but still fierce with ownership.

“I love you,” I whisper, my voice raw, encompassing all three. “Thank you for this.”

“Love you, sweetheart,” Daddy murmurs, kissing my temple, his hold tight, protective.

“Ours, always,” Uncle Tony says, his rough hand squeezing my hip, a vow in his touch.

“Forever, my dear girl,” Nonno adds, his voice steady, his fingers lingering on my skin. “You’re ours to keep, to love, to protect.”

I smile, my body heavy, sated, the weight of control lifted for this one night. The moonlight bathes us, the sea sings, and I feel whole, claimed, cherished, and utterly theirs.

Read more Santini adventures in The Santini Family Trilogy, available now!