Page 75 of Legacy (The Sovereigns #2)

Angelo

One Year Later

“ I t was a beautiful wedding,” my wife says as we step into our master bedroom.

Her voice is soft, dreamy, still wrapped in the glow of candlelight and celebration.

She turns to face me, the maroon dress clinging to her curves like it was sewn on by sin itself.

She lifts her hair, motioning for me to unzip her.

I move in behind her, close enough to feel her body hum beneath mine. I press a kiss to the nape of her neck before dragging the zipper down at an agonizing pace. “Too bad your brother married the worst possible woman.”

She gasps, half-laughing, half-scolding. “Angelo!”

Her tone is all warmth, even as she shakes her head. “You’re terrible.”

“I can be,” I smirk, peeling the dress from her shoulders, watching it slide down her body and pool like spilled wine at her feet. My breath catches. She looks like a goddess—bare, glowing, untouchable, only now she’s carrying our son.

My son.

My hand drifts down the curve of her spine, wrapping around her and settling gently over her belly. “You get more beautiful every day,” I whisper, my voice low with awe. “I don’t know how the fuck I ended up winning you over, but I’m never letting you go.”

She sighs, soft and content, leaning back into me—my entire world cradled in my arms. I hold her tighter, greedy for her heat, for the life we made between her hips.

But I can’t help myself.

“I bet Santo’s having a girl.”

Adriana groans and slips from my grasp, gathering her dress off the floor with exaggerated flair as she stalks toward the bathroom. “This competition with your brother is never ending!”

I smirk. “What did I do?”

She spins around, eyes narrowed. “So what if he does have a girl? We’re having a son. You need an heir, remember? It’s perfect. Stop comparing.”

Her pout makes me want to drop to my knees and worship her. Pregnancy has made her more emotional, fiery too, and I’d burn for every single spark.

“You’re right,” I say gently, walking to her and slipping my arms around her waist again. “I’m sorry, Tesoro. We’ll give him a little sister so he can keep her in line.”

She huffs, but her body melts into mine when I kiss her neck. “Maybe…” she mumbles.

I lift a brow. “Maybe?”

She smirks—dangerous and full of promise.

Then the shrill sound of my phone cuts through the air.

“Saved by the bell,” she teases, ducking into the bathroom as I fish my phone from my pocket.

“Amato.”

“Valentina’s been taken.” Luciano’s voice is cold. Clipped. Controlled, like a man holding back an avalanche.

My blood runs ice.

“What? When? ”

“Shortly after Santo and Vasilisa left. Two hours ago. I just pulled the feed. They took her.”

Fuck.

My jaw locks as I drag a hand through my hair, eyes darting to the bathroom door.

“I’m on my way,” I snap.

I end the call just as Adriana steps out in a black lace nightie that stretches softly over her belly. Her smile is radiant. “It fits!”

But it vanishes the second she sees my face.

Her brows pinch. “What’s wrong?”

“You should sit,” I say, but the words scrape like glass from my throat.

“No.” She crosses her arms, barely, with how much her breasts have grown. “Tell me.”

I close the distance, trying to ease her down, but she pulls away.

“Angelo. Tell me what’s going on.”

I exhale, forced to say the thing that’s going to destroy her. “Your sister was taken by the Armenians.”

Her knees buckle. I catch her before she hits the floor.

She looks up at me, wide-eyed, and the tears come instantly. “No, Angelo. She can’t, she can’t—” Her voice breaks. “We never taught her how to fight… she has no defenses, and what they did to me—”

She squeezes her eyes shut and my chest cracks open watching her relive it.

“I know, Tesoro.”

Her hands tremble against my chest. “Angelo, we have to find her. Fast. ”

“I’m going,” I promise. “Your brother pulled footage. We’ll get her back.”

“How long?” she asks, steadying herself on shaking legs.

“I don’t know how long—”

“No.” Her voice hardens. She starts pulling open drawers, grabbing clothes with fierce purpose. “How long has she been gone ? ”

I hesitate. But I don’t lie to Adriana. Not anymore. Not ever again.

“Two hours.”

Her shoulders drop. Her face goes ghostly pale. “Angelo…” she breathes.

“I know, baby.”

She presses one trembling hand to her chest, the other to the gentle swell of her belly. Her voice is barely a whisper. “They had me in a cage in twenty minutes. And the man I had to kill came ten minutes later. What if—” Her voice shatters, eyes filling. “What if they already—”

“No.” I step forward and cup her face, firm but gentle, tilting her chin until she looks at me.

“Look at me.” My thumb brushes the tear slipping down her cheek. “Breathe, Adriana.”

She tries. It comes out ragged.

I wrap my arms around her and pull her flush to my chest, one hand at the back of her head, the other pressing firmly over the small of her back where she always responds to my touch.

“Feel me. Right here. You’re safe, Tesoro.

You’re not in a cage. You’re home. With me.

Nothing’s happening to you. Or to her. Not if I can fucking help it. ”

Her fists curl into my shirt, clinging to me.

“That’s it,” I whisper, rocking her gently. “Just hold on to me. In and out, baby. That’s my girl…”

I press a kiss to her temple, then another to the curve of her jaw. Her scent, those damn cherries I love so much, grounds me right back. Anchors me. Reminds me what I’m fighting for.

“I need you strong, Adriana. Because I swear to you, I’m going to bring her back.”

She nods against my chest, soft and slow. The panic eases enough for her to breathe.

I kiss her again, this time on the mouth, deep and full of everything I can’t say. I rest my forehead against hers when I pull back.

“I’ll end this war,” I vow .

And I’ll burn every last enemy to ash to make that happen.

Because as long as I have my queen by my side—

I’m fucking unstoppable.