Page 15 of One Savage Union (Crimson Bonds #1)

ROCCO

R avello is just as I remember.

Quiet, wealthy, and romantic.

The stone walls, white-washed Duomo, and cobbled streets make even the most hardened men feel sane.

Amalfi’s hidden jewel is the only place I dare to call safe.

I hid here for an entire year after Matteo Ricci ruthlessly killed my parents in our home in Bari. Ravello was my uncle’s idea. His enemies knew I escaped, and he was paranoid they would cut out what they left of his heart. My mother was his entire world. He never recovered from her death.

Some think that’s why my uncle Thomasso is so unforgiving and hard. Those people don’t know him. If they did, they’d recognize he was always a savage.

After my mother’s death, he just stopped camouflaging his true ferocity. There was no point. He had zero fucks to give except for the fuck he gave when he took me under his wing.

He offered me refuge and saved my life. I owe him everything, including the Ricci throne on a silver platter.

I came to him as a shipwrecked sixteen-year-old. The Ricci’s hit us hard, and took away the two most important people in my life. They tortured me and crushed my fingers before I could escape, ensuring I’d never play piano again.

Then my uncle brought me here to a seaside village known for its international music festivals. It felt like a cruel joke. But after a month of living on the mountainside and working in nearby Scala’s lemon groves, I realized it kept my mind sober.

When the time came to join Uncle Thomasso and the family in Chicago, I could do so without bloodlust clouding my judgment. Ravello was my salvation, and that’s why I’ve brought Lucia here.

Five years ago, I began renovations on an 800-year-old villa that was once turned into a hotel during the 1930s. I paid the owners a substantial amount of money to relinquish their tourist business and turned Villa Dal Mare into my very own 13,000-square-foot sanctuary. It’s secluded and secure.

I did not create it with a woman in mind, but I expect the home will be to Lucia’s liking. I’ve only known her for a short while, but I think the mix of vintage Italian and beach modern decor will please her.

I just need her to wake up and see it.

She was still asleep when we landed in Naples this morning. My local driver, Canon, picked us up, and I held her tightly in my arms for the entire commute.

When I first took her, I thought only of my uncle’s needs.

My plan was to break her down into whatever my family and I needed to ascend the throne that Leo aims to claim as his own—a throne with two seats: the Romanos and the Riccis.

We’ve peacefully coexisted for the past twenty years, and none of that needs to change.

The last war took too many precious lives; my mother’s included.

However, there can only be one leader, even in times of peace.

My uncle will become the don of all dons through this forced marriage

Kidnapping and matrimony are less bloody, but just as persuasive as a street offensive.

After making Lucia come last night, I witnessed a different side of her. She’s responsive to my touch. She responds well to my… preferences. After I spanked her sweet ass, the first night we met, she was dripping wet, though she will never admit it.

She’s mine.

Thinking about how I will punish her for acting out and throwing a tantrum in the car while we escaped makes my dick hard.

I hated to drug her, but she was raving, and the adrenaline was wearing off.

I didn’t want her to deal with the crash on a plane 30,000 feet in the air.

I’d do that and more to keep her safe. There was nothing I could do to save my mother, but I will not fail Lucia.

I never wanted a wife, but now that I have one, you can be damn sure I’ll die before I let anyone harm her.

She’s mine.

It’s been twelve hours since I put her to sleep, and now I’m eager for her to wake. When we arrived at Dal Mare, I stripped her of her robe and laid her beautiful body bare on my 1000 thread count Egyptian sheets. I pray it’s just the soft fabric keeping my little fireball asleep.

I’ve taken a shower and picked our dinner menu and wine for the evening. The house staff is prepared to see to Lucia’s every whim once she’s ready.

Mario and Enxo are looking into who attacked us. I still suspect Leo, but Mario’s convinced it’s not him. He asked for another twenty-four hours to shake some trees in person and on the dark web. Someone will know something, or die trying to keep the secret.

Mario can be very convincing.

There’s nothing left for me to do but sit on the bed beside Lucia and wait.

I pick up the book I left on my bedside stand when I was here six months ago, Jane Eyre.

The previous owners left the book in the villa, and it intrigued me.

The scene where Mr. Rochester meets Jane for the first time captivates me.

Jane bewitches his horse, much like Lucia has bewitched my icy heart. But she will never fully own it.

I’m not built for love. But I can protect her and make sure that the rest of her days are comfortable. She will want for nothing as long as she doesn’t want for love.

I turn the page, and she mumbles and stirs somewhere between sleep and consciousness.

“Rocco… please…. please…,” her sweet voice pleads.

The whimpers make my cock stir. It’s likely that she’s dreaming about the orgasm I gave her in the shower last night after making her my wife. I’m upset that our wedding night was interrupted by violence. However, tonight that won’t happen. I’m making Lucia completely mine, with no exceptions.

When her arms thrash and her body jerks, I worry. She’s having a terror.

“No, mommy. Please don’t leave me. Don’t go…!” she screams.

I put my book down, gently shake her awake, and pull her into my arms. “It’s alright, Lucia, I’m here. Wake up, little one.”

For a moment, she nuzzles against my chest to accept the comfort my body offers. It’s the first touch she’s given me without coercion. She may be semi-conscious, but often that is where our genuine desires hide. But as quickly as the moment starts, it ends.

Lucia jumps up with a gasp, opening and closing her eyes repeatedly to adjust to the light.

When she can see, she rubs her head and looks up at me.

A flicker of relief floats over her face for the briefest moment.

She’s glad it’s me and not the men who were shooting at us yesterday.

I’m all she needs in the world to survive for thirty precious seconds.

But once she realizes she’s safe and remembers the last twenty-four hours, she shuts her features and gives me a look that could kill.

“Tell me, Fieri.” Her hoarse voice is as harsh as a full-throated scream. “Will you ever tire of drugging and kidnapping me?”

I smirk. “Yes. When you learn to trust and obey me like a good girl.”

She rolls her eyes and rubs her throat. The drugs made her throat dry like before, but I’m prepared.

I reach over and grab the pitcher of lavender-infused water my staff readied at my request. I pour the cool water into a crystal glass and hand it to her.

When our hands touch, a noticeable spark flies between us.

She snatches the glass and murmurs a thank you. After drinking the contents in its entirety, she hands the glass to me with a chilled glare.

“If you want me to trust you, stop drugging and dragging me at your whim. The only thing I can trust is that you will do exactly what you want to Rocco, without taking a moment’s thought of what anyone else may want or need.”

My muscles tense. She wants a fight, and I should avoid her trap.

It won’t help our situation in the long run.

But my body vibrates with a mixture of lust and pure anger.

How can she say these words with a straight face?

Less than twenty-four hours ago, I covered her body, prepared to take a bullet for her ungrateful ass.

She turns to move, but before she can run away, I pin her back to the bed and grab her jaw. When I straddle her thighs, she inhales a sharp breath.

Good, be afraid.

For my dramatic pleasure, I lean down and growl against her skin. She smells incredible. Her vanilla scent is an aphrodisiac.

“Ohhhh Lucia, you don’t believe that. Your safety is always my top priority, as I‘ve proven over the past few days. Will I ask your fucking opinion when it comes to keeping you alive? No, I will not. You will be a good girl and do what I say, or face my belt against your ass. Your obedience is non-negotiable.”

I kiss the side of her right cheek before dragging my lips down to her collarbone and biting down on the soft flesh. When she winces, I replace the sharp pinch with the softness of my tongue and circle where I nipped. The delicious moan released from her lips is a minor victory.

As I repeat my kiss, bite, and lick on her left side, I whisper.

“I owe you a punishment for your behavior in the car. I told you to do exactly what I said before we left the safe house. Yet the moment the gunfire stopped and you thought the immediate danger had passed, you threw a tantrum. A tantrum so large that I had to drug you for your safety. Now, a lesson must be taught.”

She scrambles to push me off, but she doesn’t make any gains.

I’m easily 100 pounds heavier than her, and it’s all muscle.

She’s not going anywhere until I want her to.

The quicker she submits to me, the faster we can enter into a marriage of not just convenience, but also consistency.

I can’t keep going like this. Her mood swings affect my concentration. She needs to understand her place soon.

“Fuck you.” See hisses between clenched teeth. It’s muffled, but I understand the disrespectful sentiment perfectly. She will pay dearly for the words.