Page 48 of Brutal Heir (Ruthless Heirs #3)

JUST A GIRL AND A BOY

R ory

“Do we really have to go to Serena’s party?” Alessandro groans as he steps out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel slung low across his hips.

I freeze at the doorway between our bedrooms, about to head into mine to search my closet for a dress, but now my feet are rooted to the floor.

As I take him in, the miles of taut muscle beneath fire-ravaged skin, my breath hitches.

Not just at the sight of his physical perfection, but at how far he’s come in such a short time.

I almost miss the days of tension-laced sponge baths.

He steps closer, a feral grin on his lips as he watches me trace a drop of water that blazes a path down his torso and disappears beneath the navy towel. “If you keep looking at me like that, tiny tyrant, I’ll be forced to call Serena to cancel.”

I close the distance between us and wind my arms around the back of his neck.

“Tempting… but it’s New Year’s Eve, Ale, and I, for one, could use a distraction.

” Since the truth of my past came out, we’ve barely left the penthouse.

And even within the safety of these walls and constant guards, I can feel the relentless anxiety rolling off him in toxic waves.

“We need this night out. Just one fun evening to forget.”

“Fine, I suppose it would be a pity to let that dress go to waste.” A flicker of amusement brightens his eyes.

“What dress?”

“You’ll have to go check your closet.”

I try to spin away, but his hand locks on my forearm and pulls me back into the hard planes of his body.

“We’ll go for a little while, but as soon as that clock strikes midnight, I’m bringing you home. So that I can spend the first hours of the new year making you come on my cock.”

Heat licks at my core at his filthy words. McFecker has a mouth on him, but, boy, can he back it up. “Deal,” I whisper against his lips.

His arms only tighten around me as he rubs his erection against my belly. Through the soft silky robe, that flicker of heat turns molten.

“Ale…” I groan.

His towel hits the floor with a soft thump, and his hard length strains against me.

“What?” The husky edge to his tone has that heat flaring brighter. His hands are at the silk knot at my waist, and a second later, my robe meets his towel on the floor.

We stand there completely bare before one another, neither one breathing. The sex has been different lately. With his newfound knowledge of the truth, it seems as if the final barrier between us has vanished.

Everything is more raw, more visceral. He regards me with nothing short of adoration as that hungry gaze rakes over me.

First, it focuses on the butterfly pendant just above my breasts, then dives lower, to the words inked just below it.

His eyes linger there for an endless moment before he draws in a slow breath.

As if every part of me has finally clicked into place for him.

“Free from the chains,” he whispers, almost reverently.

I nod, eager to close the distance between us and put an end to his intense scrutiny.

“You know I’m nothing like him, right? I would never treat you like he did…” His jaw works, fingers balling into fists at his side.

“I know,” I murmur.

His hand dives into the hair at the back of my neck, drawing me closer and those eyes, a storm of emotion sear into me. “I swear it, Rory. I will never be him.”

“I believe you.” I brush my lips to his, framing his face with unsteady hands. “You are nothing like Conall, Alessandro. I never could have fallen in love with you if you were.”

His head dips, mouth finding mine. That need burns brighter, and all thoughts of timeliness evaporate when he lifts me off the floor and wraps my legs around his hips.

The new year can wait. Alessandro is all the future I need right now.

Eventually, we do make it to the party. My hair is a mess, lipstick smudged, and we’re just late enough for people to guess why. But I’m still too high from the buzzing orgasm to care.

If you had told me a few months ago that I’d be ringing in the new year in a glittering Manhattan penthouse full of mob royalty, wearing a sparkly dress I definitely couldn’t afford on my old nursing salary, I would’ve laughed in your face.

But here I am sipping champagne worth more than my childhood home and letting Alessandro’s hand rest possessively on the curve of my lower back while his cousins and twin sister laugh and bicker around us like there isn’t a bounty on my head just outside these walls.

I should feel like an outsider here surrounded by mob royalty and million-dollar views, but somehow, I don’t. I feel like I belong. Like I’ve carved out a space in a world that wasn’t supposed to be mine

Serena’s penthouse is all glass and gold, glowing like a fine diamond suspended above the city. Massive floor-to-ceiling windows give a sweeping view of the skyline, all lit up and sparkling like it’s celebrating right along with us.

“Alright, everyone!” Serena clinks her glass with a fork, standing on a velvet ottoman in heels that defy gravity. “Drinking game time!” she shouts over the chaos.

Antonio rolls his eyes from where he’s perched on the arm of the couch, but he’s smiling. One hand is already reaching to pass around little cards with prompts. Matteo, of course, snatches the first one and reads it aloud with a dramatic flair.

“Drink if you’ve ever had sex in a car,” he announces. “Bonus gulp if it was in the past year.”

I glance up at Ale, who raises a brow like he’s daring me.

“You first,” I challenge.

He downs his champagne without hesitation. And I can’t say I’m surprised. I’ve heard all about the infamous playboy, Alessandro Rossi before the explosion.

“Well, that tracks,” Alessia mutters from the other side of the couch, fake gagging.

Alessandro sticks his tongue out at her, and she laughs, then shoots a grin at me in a way that makes me feel like I really do belong here. Somehow, I’ve gone from fugitive ex-fiancée to the girl who’s included in even the family’s most scandalous drinking traditions.

When it’s my turn to draw a card, I read it aloud in my best dramatic TV announcer voice. “Drink if you’ve ever been in a fistfight.”

Half the room drinks. I drain my glass.

“Wait, Rory?” Isabella laughs. “You’ve been in a fight?”

“One?” I scoff. “Try three. All girls. One bottle of whiskey. One was wearing heels. I won every time.”

Alessandro looks both horrified and deeply turned on.

“That explains so much,” Matteo says, grinning as he grabs another bottle off the bar cart. “God, I love you.”

“Back off, Matty,” Ale says with a smirk, pulling me against him so my back hits his chest and his lips brush my ear. “She’s mine.”

Heat flashes across my skin, even in the middle of the laughter and chaos. His fingers slide over my hip like a secret promise only I can hear.

The music shifts into something a little slower, a little smoother, and suddenly the game is forgotten and people are pairing off to dance.

Serena loops an arm through Antonio’s and drags him to the center of the room.

Isabella and Raffaele are quick to follow.

Alessia gets pulled away by one of Serena’s friends, Luca or Leo, I can’t remember, and Matteo dramatically offers his hand to Vinny, Bella’s younger brother, who flips him off but ends up swaying with him anyway.

“May I have this dance, Red?” Alessandro murmurs against my hair.

“You dance?”

He shrugs. “For you? I’ll make an exception.”

He pulls me into the center of the room, his hands resting low on my back as I slide my arms around his neck. The music hums beneath our skin. Lights from the city glitter behind us. His thumb strokes lazy circles on my hipbone, and for a moment, everything slows.

No Irish mobsters. No bounty. No lies.

Just us.

“This is nice,” I whisper.

His gaze softens. “You’re nice.”

“Liar.”

He leans down and brushes his lips against mine. “Okay. You’re fire. And anarchy. And the only thing worth living for.”

“Well,” I smirk, “as long as I’m useful.”

He spins me, and when I land back in his arms, laughter bubbles out of me before I can stop it. It's loud. Real. And it feels good.

Because for once we’re just a girl and a boy in love at a party, dancing toward midnight like we don’t have the weight of the world chasing us.

“Ten… nine… eight…”

The room swells with noise, but I barely hear it. All I can feel is Ale’s breath on my neck, the steady beat of his heart pressed against mine. If I could stay right here frozen in this moment of love and laughter, I’d bottle it and drink it for the rest of my life.

“Happy New Year!” Shouts echo across the penthouse.

Because it’s absolutely perfect.