Page 52 of Owned by the Italian Mafia Boss

I’m wondering if perhaps we have a chance at making this work after all.

I just need to remember one thing:

Be softer with her

and she’ll forever be mine.

I’m afraid I have to admit I might love her to an extreme.

A catastrophic extreme could hurt many people if they ever got in my way.

Chapter Fourteen

Delilah

It’s been two weeks since we married, and the best and only sexual experience of my life. He’s been different during that time. He’s been…sweet.

And sweet is not in his nature. That’s how I know he’s trying.

Every day for the last two weeks, he has come to the library with me, gotten everyone coffee and stayed at my side. Ethan stays far away from Carmine, and Carmine tends to give him deadly stares, but the last two weeks have been great. He’s even helped me study for the exam that I have tomorrow.

We’ve stayed up late studying, fallen asleep, and woken up with flashcards sticking to our cheeks. We’ve laughed and kissed, but the one thing I haven’t been able to do is to take the next step with him. After Carmine gave me that amazing orgasm, I felt like I couldn’t please him and turned him on myself.

Sexually, I’ve kept him distant.

But we’ve grown closer.

The laughs, the coffee, the study sessions, all because of my big exam tomorrow.

And he never missed a day. He never told me he couldn’t because of work.

He was—is—there for me.

“No! Not again, not again. Please, not again.”

Unable to sleep because I was thinking about Carmine and worried if I pass my test tomorrow, I flipped over to see what Carmine was talking about.

“Don’t. Father, not again. Not again.” The pain in his voice has me scooting closer. He still won’t talk about the scars on his body, and I still can’t touch them.

“Carmine?” I whisper, trying to wake him gently from his nightmare.

He begins to scream. It’s loud and heart-wrenching, the kind of sound that reaches into the soul and shreds it to pieces. The tendons in his neck are tight, and he is gripping the comforter for dear life. He begins to thrash, and I want to cry for him.

I’ve never seen him like this. I’ve never seen him in a nightmare. He doesn’t dream.

“Stop! I’ll be a man, just stop!” he screams, a singular tear running down his chin.

“Carmine!” I roll on top of him and shake him awake, needing him to see that his real life is with me now. He doesn’t wake up right away. “Carmine! It’s me. It’s Delilah. Wake up, my dark side, wake up,” I beg him, hoping he knows what it means.

He’s my dark side, the darkness I’ve always craved.

“Carmine!” I take his face in my hands and press my lips against his. His chest is sweating, his forehead is hot and his breathing is fast.

His eyes snap open, and I’m flipped to my back.

There’s no recognition in his gaze. His pupils are blown wide, his hair is a disaster and his fist is held in the air.

“Carmine! It’s me. It’s Delilah. Your Sweetling, it’s me,” I sob, closing my eyes to prepare for the hit. “It’s me.”