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24

GLORIA

M orning rays and afterglow.

We lay half in and half out of sleep for hours, caressing, kissing, never any farther than an inch apart. An eternity passes in his arms, my face nestled in the powerful muscles of his chest.

I’ve never felt safer anywhere in my entire life.

The miles between us and my father, the world we left behind, it all feels so much farther away. Like none of it can touch us here. Like we have our own safe little bubble, our shelter from chaos.

Even if it can’t last, I hold on to it, burning it into my memory as I doze in and out of sweet, quiet dreams. Dreams filled with him.

Each time I wake, I find him beside me, relaxed, sometimes watching me sleep, sometimes asleep himself.

It’s devastatingly attractive, the way he holds me. His sweet, clean scent only adds to the dizzying sensation filling my chest.

As the sun finally reaches a reasonable height through the window and he inhales, his nose pressed into my hair, his arms squeezing me close.

I turned my head, kissing his chest lightly, barely brushing my lips along his skin.

When I reach his nipple, my tongue darts out, making him squirm suddenly. A little laugh puffs his chest, the same one from last night. Carefree and unlike anything I’ve heard from him.

“So you are awake,” I tease.

“I’ve been awake the entire time,” he murmurs, his groggy slur giving him away.

“Liar.” I burrow my chin into his pec, making him jerk. “Oh my gosh…you’re ticklish!”

“No idea what you’re talking about. Diamantes aren’t ticklish.”

“Right, because you’re stone cold…”

“Actually rock solid is more accurate. Like a diamond. Get it?”

“Wow!” I burst out laughing, flopping back. “Your bad jokes defy logic.”

“Defy geo-logic?”

“Getting worse …”

“It’s literally my name,” he pretends to be offended.

“Or did you mean it’s minerally your name?” I make a face.

“Now that was fucking terrible!”

“ Ore was it?”

“Now you’re just metalling.”

“Don’t you mean meddling?”

His eyes twinkle as he watches me, his face relaxed. Gentle.

A faint shadow passes behind them, though, and I lean in, cupping his face. “What is it?”

“Just reminds me of the twins. The way they bicker.”

“My sister and I do the same. It’s just mostly over the phone since I can’t see her.” I sigh, joining in the faint melancholy of our sibling troubles.

Ugh. I miss her so much.

“I can’t believe you kept that from me,” Adriano muses, staring up at the ceiling.

“Because you’ve been sooo forthcoming with me?”

“No, I mean it’s impressive. It was difficult for me to track down any hint of it.”

“Not difficult enough, unfortunately. But I guess I’ve spent so long trying to keep her location a secret from everyone, it was second nature to never speak of it.”

“Why did you keep her hidden? Before Dom, I mean?”

“Stepfather. Her dad. He left us with a mountain of debt. Our mother’s medical bills. I was worried that he would come around, threaten to take her. I might have had to fight him in court, but I was more worried that he would…use other means.”

“He wasn’t an above-board kind of guy, huh?”

“My mom had a type, I guess.”

Adri presses his lips together, looking away awkwardly.

“What are you trying to say?! Like mother, like daughter?” I swat his arm, glaring playfully.

“I have zero room to talk. My whole family is legally challenged. For decades? Centuries?”

“So is mine, apparently.”

“Used to be rivals, your ancestors and mine. They finally quashed their squabbles in the early 1900s. Then my great-uncle and your great-great-aunt married. Joined the families.”

“It’s so strange. To have all this history that I never had a clue about.”

“I can show you. Some of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re in Florence! This is where it all started.” He sits up, stretching. Looking back over that muscular, chiseled shoulder his eyes light up. “Spend the day with me. Here. We’ll see the sights. Get to know each other better.”

“I could be convinced…”

“Hm … coffee? Breakfast ?”

“Now we’re talking. But I need a shower first.” I spring off the bed, rushing to the bathroom. “And I need you to tell me all about…everything.”

“Deal.” Adriano chases me across the room, sweeping me up into his arms. “But only if you do the same.”

“Eye for an eye, signore .” I shake my hands, fingers pointed into a stereotypical gesture.

“No one does that.”

“I watched you do it just yesterday when you were shouting at me. Both hands.”

“Shut up. I did not. And I was not the only one shouting. Or gesticulating.”

“Gesticulating? Is that what that was, the thing you did with your middle finger…?” I wag my eyebrows, instantly making him blush. “Besides, I was just defending myself.”

“More like deflecting,” he scoffs.

“Now you’re just projecting.”

“I can definitely project exactly how this argument is going to end.” His head dips, leaning in way too close.

God, those lips …

“Me too…” I lean in closer, drawing him in.

“Tell me. Or better, show me.”

My lips brush his, my fingers curling around his rapidly hardening manhood. Adriano smiles, looking like he won.

“With you going to the car to get my things since you forced me out of it at gunpoint?”

And I’m gone, flipping my hair in his face and closing the door. Turning on the water, I hear him fumble over several attempts at a rebuttal before stomping off.

A few luxuriously hot minutes into my shower, I hear the door close out in the room, then a soft knock at the door.

“Come in.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Only if you promise to behave.”

“Nope.” He’s stepping in behind me, closing the curtain.

Soaped up and rinsed off, I lean to the side, letting the water hit him over my shoulder.

“Is that all I get?” His chest presses right into my back, among other things.

“You want more?”

“Always.”

Turning, I back under the water, letting him soak for a moment, admiring the view. When he reaches for me I slap his hands away, stepping into his space, the two of us under the rain-like downpour of the spout.

Sidling up to him, I keep him from putting me where I know he wants me and straddle his thigh, pressing my slippery bosom onto him. Before he can protest or try anything else, I clutch his arching pillar, using the water to glide along the length.

“I want breakfast.”

“I want you.”

“You can have me later.”

“Promise?”

Without answering, I lick up along his neck, nibbling on his earlobe, pumping him firmly in one hand. It doesn’t take long, whispering in his ear, before he’s moaning, crushing me to his side.

Just as he starts to throb, I drop to my knees in front of him, taking him in one sweeping motion, all the way down my throat.

“Fuuuck!” Adriano’s cry makes me moan in response, squeezing my legs together with the ache building between my legs. I want him so bad.

But I also want to be able to walk today, so…

So I pull out all the stops, relaxing my jaw and taking him all the way down, every inch.

Sucking my way back to his tip I follow my lips with both of my hands, working him faster and harder. I know it’s working when both of his hands find their way to the back of my head, his moans matching the urgency of his grasp.

“Oh, Gloria, just like that.”

My sultry hum of response only adds to his arousal, the taste of him tingling on my tongue. His hips jerk faster and I double down, sucking him in.

His statuesque ass clenches, his ripped thighs locking, and I brace myself, swallowing every molten drop of his release.

Adriano slumps back against the wall of the shower, panting.

“You. Are. Incredible.”

“I know.”

The cafe we choose for breakfast is adorable, sitting right on the Arno under a rust-colored awning. The coffee?

Even better than the view.

After our overindulgent shower, we dressed and walked from Adriano’s hotel, basking in the warmth and breeze of a flawless Tuscan morning. Herbs and spices season the air, easing the tension hanging between us.

Not the sexual kind.

That’s always there, beneath the surface. But this is anticipation. A hint of awkward flirtation.

Mostly, it’s a very specific need to break the ice on opening up to one another like we promised.

I just don’t have a clue how to approach it.

We haven’t exactly been a real couple up until now.

And there’s also the fact that we said we love each other in the last twenty-four hours to add to the mix.

“Should we talk about…any of that?” Adriano finally blurts out after another uncomfortably long pause.

Why are we like this?

“No. I mean, we can. That’s what couples do, right?”

“Right. Like a normal couple. Which we are not.”

“Definitely not. But not in a bad way.”

“No! We’ve totally made this thing our own.”

“Why don’t we just share a detail about our lives? Um, I’ll go first. My mom moved us around a lot. Like thirty or forty cities in just a few years.”

“Wow. And I thought I was a jet-setting youth with my family.”

“Yeah. Speaking of your family, you said they were from around here originally?”

“They were. The Diamantes started in the old country, long before they immigrated to New York. There’s still a couple of estates that I think we technically own near here. Over the years the two halves developed in their own ways, the new and the old. Aless was actually born here in Florence. I was the first one born in the states. Eventually more of the center of operations migrated there.”

“So where do you consider home?”

“Both? Neither?”

“Do you have any relatives left alive here?”

“Yes. Just one. Maybe some cousins and a load of family affiliates. But they’re more like business partners than relatives. An elderly relative lives in the North. Not for much longer, though.” He looks down into his cup, swirling the contents.

“They’re ill?” I hate leading him like this, but my instincts keep me from blurting out what I know.

“Yes. And just old.”

“That’s hard.”

“Everyone dies. I’ve seen plenty of death in my life. Not that it doesn’t affect you. But you become accustomed to the nature of things. Accept that you or the people you know might not be there tomorrow.”

“That’s terrible. Adriano. I-I don’t mean that insultingly?—”

“You’re right it is terrible. It’s a wonder that I still feel grief after all the things my brothers and I have seen.”

“Or maybe it makes you appreciate things more.”

“In some ways. In others, it makes you callous.” I see him struggle for a moment, then grimace, like he makes a decision. “Our parents died when we were children. I was ten. The twins were six. We were up late, waiting for Alessandro to come home, napping in the sunroom at the old compound.”

I still, watching him relive the memory.

“The little ones were asleep on my lap. But I always waited to make sure that he got home safe. I had to see him to know that he was okay. That night especially. I wasn’t supposed to know that he was out on his first hit, to become a ‘made’ man.

“Anyways, he walked in. We carried the twins inside. Something felt off. The elders were in the kitchen around the table. I can’t remember what Uncle Giancarlo said to Aless. But I saw him break down. I knew.”

“Adri,” I whisper, covering my mouth.

“He raised us, my brother. I helped as I got older. Dom too. He was always around. Always watching over us, even if he wasn’t always kind.”

“Was he always like that?”

“No. I remember when I was really little. He was damn near jolly. More like Ciro, a cutup. But the life tends to rot that out of most people.”

I hold my tongue, unsure of how to bring up what I know. Instead, I ask, “Why was my father passed over?”

“You’ve seen the way he is. At some point he became more impulsive and violent. Prone to rash decisions. We thought he was on drugs for a while, but he pulled it together when he thought he was going to inherit the throne. When he didn’t, he was crushed, naturally. I was surprised when he stuck around, working for my brother. But one day, suddenly, he just ghosted us. The whole family.”

A pause settles, pain tinting his features.

When it seems like he won’t continue, I start, wanting to give him a break and to contribute to our exchange. Picking a spot at random in my childhood, I dive in.

“One of my first memories of moving around was actually my grandmother, on my mother’s side. We visited her for a summer in Andora. Even as a little girl, I remember thinking it was one of the most beautiful places I would ever go.”

“I’ve driven through it. It’s unreal.”

“But, like I said, we stayed on the move. In retrospect, it was likely because my mother was on the run from the mob in some capacity. Whether my father, or someone else.

“Which is why I was so sad when she started dating Claude. He was a thug, low-level, but definitely involved with scary people. The only time we fought about it, right before they got married, she said it was for our protection. That it would guarantee that we could stay put in Paris.”

“She bought your freedom from a life on the lamb.”

“It cost her everything. Her health deteriorated supporting us. Especially after she went back to work after maternity leave with Anna. I took care of her most of the time.”

“Another thing we have in common. Changing our siblings’ diapers.”

“Anna grew out of them fast, thank goodness.”

“The twins didn’t. I still have to clean up after them.” He grins, brightening the day. “Keep talking, but let’s walk. You have to see the Duomo while you’re here.”

Adriano offers me his hand, slipping his fingers between mine. So naturally.

Like we’ve always done this.

As we walk along the river wall, he glances at me, an invitation to continue.

“Skip ahead a bit: I was almost finished with my master’s degree in Paris when we met. I had plans to join a firm, or maybe become an accountant for some of the small businesses I worked for putting myself through college.”

“Like what?”

“I sweat my ass off in a boulangerie one summer learning how to bake pain au chocolat and chouquettes . Then there was the bistro, serving food, beer, and coffee. I liked both of those better than being a tour guide.”

“Wow. You’re so prolific! I’ve never had a real job.”

Taking a sip from my bottle, I almost spit my mouthful of water out at the admission.

“What? I’ve always worked for my family,” he defends. “And I mean, I did work for so many members of the syndicate. Just about anything you can think of. But never really for long or for a wage.”

“I see. You said you went to university, though. When we met.”

“Several. Never finished much of anything. Mostly because the life would inevitably catch up with me.”

“Turns out, I can relate. That life caught up to me and I never knew I was part of it until it did.”

“I can’t imagine that. What you went through.”

“It was a shock, to be sure. Just finding out my father was still alive.”

“How did you? You said he found you, after all these years?”

“Well, he sent me a letter. After buying out all my debt, offering me a job. I didn’t find out until later that he bought out my apartment unit to make me have to leave. But I found out he was alive just before that. Right before, actually.”

Adriano leans over the table, his brow furrowing in interest.

“This guy scared the shit out of me outside my apartment that night, following me. Said he was a cop. FBI, actually.”

“Really? In Paris?” His gaze narrows, rapt.

“Yep. I blew it off, but now I wonder if I should have called him.”

“Why would you?” Adriano sits back, looking thoughtful.

“Not all of us are so distrustful of the law, Adri,” I smirk.

“True. Old habits. Policy, even. And yet that guy in Orvieto seemed to think Dom had some history with the feds.”

“Really? You really think Dom would trust the law?”

“No. But he turned on us in the end. He turned on other allies too. Makes you think.”

“Speaking of Orvieto, where did you go after? You vanished for two days.”

Adriano sighs, eyeing me from across the table. “We’re really going to do this, huh?”

“What. Trust each other? I suppose we are.” I chew my lip, forcing myself to meet his stare. How does he do that?

It’s like having a staring contest with a statue.

“I went to see my nonna. My grandmother,” he starts, shrugging. “It’s probably the last time I’ll see her. And the reason I told Dom I wanted to visit her.”

“Which was …”

“To get her blessing on my marriage. She’s the last elder in my family alive. Call me old fashioned but…”

“That’s sweet. So is she.”

“Who?”

“Natalia. Your grandmother.” My heart kicks off into a drum roll as I say it, waiting to gauge his reaction.

Adriano huffs a single, tight, incredulous laugh, his face locked halfway between a smile and suspicion. A little shake of his head seems to clear the irritation, regaining his composure.

“You know, if you were anyone else, I’d kill you for trespassing like that.”

“I know. It would be a direct threat on your family. But I had to take that risk, to find out who she was, and then, well.”

“Then what?” he asks.

“Once I was there and we were talking, I figured out she knew Dom.”

“Yeah, he visited her with Alessandro and me when we were younger.”

“A few times, from what she said.”

“Nonna isn’t always … there , though.”

“I know. But she got confused about who I was. She could tell I was his daughter, but then…”

“Did she start talking like she was in a memory?”

“Yes. She said my father lost a child. A boy.”

Adriano’s scowl deepens, shock blooming in his expression. After a few seconds of processing, he nods. “So he lost two kids. This son, then you, when your mother took you away. That would explain some of why he wants us to…”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

The conversation stalls a bit as we hop in a cab, heading toward the Duomo Cathedral. Just as promised, Adriano shows me the highlights, the abbreviated tour of the city.

And it’s charming, seeing it through his eyes.

Getting inside his head, and inside the family, the culture of his people.

My people.

The day wanes too soon, and finds us leaning over the river, dropping flower petals from a walking bridge. Adriano’s been quiet for the past several minutes, lost in thought.

“ Centesimo for your thoughts?” I quip.

“Just trying to put the pieces together. Dom wouldn’t have worked with the FBI without some sort of reason, and I have it on good authority that they had some sort of leverage on him.”

“What if it was related to my mom, to me?”

“Or to the other kid and their mother. But nothing came of it as far as I know. Unless…”

“Unless he never stopped working for them,” I offer, my eyes widening.

Adriano turns toward me, his eyes darting from side to side. “That would explain how he got the funding. Seemed to know exactly what we were doing and when.”

“The one thing that I don’t get is why the agent would contact me in Paris if Dom was already with them.”

“Because once they put him in power, to cut to the heart of our operation, he burned them.”

The rest of the evening speeds by as we gain momentum.

Most of it is speculation, but it tracks. And it helps us decide what to do next.

“So. Should I call him?”

“Do it.” I nod nervously.

The phone rings a few times before I hear my father’s voice. “Hello? Adriano. Finally! I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for days! Gloria’s?—”

“Here with me. She wanted to surprise me.”

“Wha—Ah. I see,” he schools his tone, clearing his throat. “Enjoying your little pre-honeymoon, then?”

“Immensely. I apologize for going dark. Things got complicated in Orvieto.”

“I wondered if he gave you trouble. I trust you have some more good news for me?” he snaps, the insinuation clear that my leaving is far from over.

“Very good news. We’ll be home soon.” Adriano looks up at me.

“And we have a wonderful surprise for you, Dad.”