Page 21

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

MARCO

J esus Christ.

She had to be the best lay of my whole goddamn life, but tonight… tonight took that to a whole other level. I didn’t just feel satisfied after our session or blissed out on cloud nine. I felt like a fucking King.

Sex felt different with Ada anyway, but without a condom? Man, it was my undoing. It took everything in me not to nut in the first thirty seconds, like I was some fucking fifteen-year-old virgin all over again. I shook my head in disbelief.

She really is driving me insane.

She had felt so goddamn good. Just like last time but better. Softer. Wetter . The feeling was indescribable. I climaxed harder and longer than I had even thought possible. God the things I wanted to do to this woman.

She was sleeping soundlessly beside me now, completely oblivious to the beast she had awakened within me.

All men in the Cosa Nostra had a vice, and while I had always thought whiskey was mine, I realized now that I had been wrong. It was her.

She was damn close to perfect, utterly beautiful and all kinds of sexy. Smart-mouthed but intelligent. Not like most of the airheads that bartered for my attention. She didn’t treat me like everyone else did, and while her insubordination had pissed me off at the beginning, I had come to find it oddly refreshing…and now that I knew she was submissive in the sack? Well, she really was my perfect woman.

Tonight had been a first for me but it had apparently been a first for her too. Something I couldn’t help but feel smug about.

Despite that knowledge though, a large part of me still wanted to know what her experience was and who the men were she’d been with before me. One of them she’d said was at the bottom of Lake Mead, but the other? I had no idea where he was…and judging by Ada’s behavior when I broached the subject, I guessed that she wanted to keep it that way.

When I had touched her the first time, I could see it was new to her. I could see the surprise—apprehension even—burning behind those delicate blue irises. Not only that, but she was so fucking tight, and her hands explored my body with a distinct timidness. A complete juxtaposition to the way she danced and the air of sexual confidence she so frequently projected.

Whatever men she’d been with before it couldn’t have been for much longer than a one-night stand, I’d decided.

Just the idea of other men being with her in that way, even just once, was enough to make my jaw clench in anger and a red haze tint the edges of my vision.

The fucking bastard took what’s mine.

I didn’t know which of the two had been the one to have done it, to have taken her virtue , but if I found out he was the one still alive… the fucker’s body would be unrecognizable soon enough.

A searing hot hatred poured through my blood stream.

Ada suddenly turned in her sleep in response to my tension. The sheets around her falling away, exposing her entire back and ass to the air.

God she is beautiful.

She sighed in her sleep and the sound went straight to my dick, causing it to harden instantly. With her tight ass right there and her midnight hair curled across the pillow, I burned no longer with anger but with need . I needed to be inside her again.

I shifted over to her, pushing myself against her small frame as my free hand trailed across her stomach. She stirred slightly and I sucked on her neck, beckoning her awake. My restraint paper thin as I pressed my hips to her ass. My dick throbbed.

Fuck.

She turned slightly, rousing a little to mumble, “What, Marco?”

“I want you,” I said without hesitation, rolling my hips into her again to prove my point.

“Ask me nicely,” she breathed.

I smiled into her neck as she used the same words I had earlier.

Normally, I didn’t ask for fucking anything. I was Don Marco La Torre, and under normal circumstances, I would have discarded any woman that told me to ask her nicely to fuck her. But man, oh man these were not normal circumstances. This woman was my fucking drug and if I didn’t get my fix, I didn’t know what I was capable of.

So I did something I’d never done before.

I asked nicely .

“Please, Ada.” I whispered against her ear.

My hand came up to palm her breast and her nipples hardened in response to my warmth.

She was taking too damn long to answer.

“I need to be inside you, Ada. Please .” The desperation in my voice made it almost unrecognizable, even to my own ears. “Fuck!” I gritted my teeth, growling the profanity as she pressed her ass firmly against me, my cock pushing into the crevice between her cheeks.

“Be gentle Marco, I’m a little sore.” Her voice was less sleepy than before, and she glanced over her shoulder to look at me with those perfect, doe-like eyes.

I nodded and readjusted my position, sinking downwards until I lined up with her entrance. She sighed as I rocked into her as gently as I could.

I moaned in relief, the warmth of being inside her hitting me instantly. She whimpered in my arms as my full length slid into her.

“Are you okay, baby?” I breathed.

She nodded, “Just go slowly.”

Our fingers threaded together on the pillow as I fucked her as slowly and as gently as I could.

The whole world fell into oblivion around us, until there was just Ada and me.

ADALYN

A vibrating sound buzzed somewhere near my head, and I groaned in irritation.

Something warm shifted beneath me and I became vaguely aware that the source of that warmth was in fact a rock-solid human chest. It took me another half a minute to remember where I was, and more importantly who I was with… My pulse accelerated as the realization hit.

I felt an arm lift from the bed and the buzzing grew louder for a moment.

“What?” Marco’s gravelly, sleepy voice demanded. He paused before sighing, “Fine, we’re coming.”

I heard him end the call and felt it as he looked down at me. I cracked open an eye.

He smiled, and my heart stuttered. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

I felt like I was suddenly in some parallel fucking universe.

“We gotta get up.” I could hear the reluctance in his voice.

I nodded and sat upright slowly. “Do I have time to shower?”

“Yeah. Just make it quick.”

I nodded and got up.

I padded to the shower, turning on the water and standing under the stream, carefully washing away the remnants of last night from my body. Fifteen minutes later, I threw on a blue bandeau dress and met Marco at the door.

He was wearing his usual black suit trousers, but this morning he had chosen a snug fitting black polo instead of his normal shirt, showing off his thick arms and intricate black tattoos. He took my hand and flashed my favorite boyish smile that sent a tingle all the way down to my toes.

Our entourage of bodyguards were outside as we exited, and they escorted us through the halls of the villa, now lit with a stream of gentle, warm sunshine. The noise of quiet chatter and laughter reached my ears as we came through the reception area toward the hall for breakfast.

Just as we began to enter the room, Marco’s phone started ringing again, and he gestured for me to go in without him.

It didn’t take long for me to spot Jesse and Enzo at one of the tables and I was relieved to see that the bimbo twins from last night were notably absent.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Jess?” I mocked, taking a seat at the table.

He scowled around a bite of bacon. “Not my girlfriend and I do not care.” He said, irritated by something but obviously unwilling to discuss it.

I shared a look with Enzo that clearly said do not ask.

Heeding his warning, I dropped it and ordered some orange juice, helping myself to a few pastries from the table.

“What is it with girls and commitment?” Jesse eventually voiced with a sigh. “You sleep with someone one whole time and they suddenly want your number, email address, and fucking social security.”

I rolled my eyes, “One, you’re in Italy not America, so I know she didn’t actually ask you for your social. Two, you hooked up with a girl at a wedding . Weddings can make us women go cray cray. It’s not our fault though, blame Hollywood and all their rom coms.” Jesse’s eyes widened as if I was speaking in pig Latin.

“Really? Jesus, what else don’t we know?” Enzo cut in, the astonishment in his voice also mirrored on his face.

It was like I was fucking Albert Einstein to these two.

“I’m gonna go ahead and say a lot,” I said, smirking at the riveted men before me. “Weddings are definitely a no go. On or around her birthday…and valentine’s day, I would say they are all bad choices for a casual fling. You don’t want to give the wrong impression.”

I could see their heads practically exploding with the information and I couldn’t help but laugh.

Suddenly I felt a warm, familiar presence.

Jesse and Enzo nodded in greeting to the man I knew I’d find behind me.

“What’s so funny?” Marco asked, pulling up a seat.

“I’m just filing them in on a secret about women.” I answered, smiling in greeting at him.

“And what is this secret?” He asked.

“If a girl hooks up with you at a wedding it’s because she wants more than just the D,” Jesse answered coolly.

“She wants commitment,” Enzo chimed in, cringing in a way that usually would have had me chuckling if I wasn’t too busy panicking.

I tensed, knowing how that would sound to Marco…after having hooked up with me right after a wedding.

He’d think that I wanted more from him than sex, and while that was in fact true , I didn’t exactly want him knowing that piece of information right now. It threatened to damage the fragile understanding that currently existed between us and had the potential to throw everything into total chaos, whether he cared for me or not.

Shit .

“Who the fuck knew that?” Jesse finished.

“I was speaking generally Jesse. It isn’t true of all women,” I said, forcing nonchalance into my voice.

“That’s not what you just said,” Jesse argued irritatingly, and I glared at him.

“Is it true for you?” Marco asked turning toward me.

Yes. “No,” I answered but my tone was slightly off and I internally cringed.

I swiftly turned away, flipping my hair over my shoulder and acting like I hadn’t seen the knowing smile forming on his lips.

“I think it is.” He chuckled darkly, making two pairs of eyes flicker between us quizzically.

“It really isn’t ,” I answered refusing to meet his gaze. “What are everyone’s plans for today?” I rather unsubtly tried to change the subject.

A tattooed arm came to rest on the back of my chair, and I pretended to ignore the flutters up my spine.

“What kind of commitment do you want from me now then, Ada? A heartfelt poem? Those three important words?” Marco’s tone was jovial. No outward signs of running away and screaming like I had anticipated.

Trouble was, my satisfaction at his reaction was overshadowed entirely by Jesse and Enzo’s faces…which were now lit up with sudden understanding.

Crap.

“HOLY SHIT!” Jesse exclaimed, smacking the table with his palm. “You slept together?” he spluttered, gesturing between us with a zeppole.

I all but died from embarrassment while Marco shot him an arrogant grin.

“Three times.” Marco added, smiling broadly as he brought my juice to his lips and took a swig.

I didn’t bother pointing out that those three times were in fact over two days and not just last night as he had implied. Men.

Enzo muttered a ‘wow’ while I sent a silent prayer up to whatever deity could bloody well hear me, before hiding my face in my hands.

“Niceee.” Jesse approved.

“I’m right here, you know! You are such an asshole.” I rounded on Marco so he could see my glare.

He smirked but was otherwise unaffected. “So, what is it that you want?” He insisted, going back to the original subject. “For us to buy a house together? Maybe a diamond ring?”

I pretended to contemplate his words for a moment, “I’m not really here for your sparkling personality or fantastic sense of humor. I’ll just take the sex for now,” I responded acerbically.

Enzo and Jesse howled with laughter and Marco’s expression burned with an intensity that set my insides ablaze.

“Are you sure that’s all you want? I’ve heard I’m quite the catch,” He continued tauntingly, raising a brow.

“Hm, that’s not what I’ve heard. Besides…the more time I spend around you the less likely I am to want anything else,” His smile met mine as I challenged him.

“On the contrary, falling in love with me is inevitable.” The confidence in his voice was unmistakable, despite the humor. This man!

I snorted derisively. “How deluded you are, my dear Don La Torre,” I said, patting his cheek condescendingly and he flashed me my favorite smile.

Enzo and Jesse watched our little exchange with knowing amusement before we all lapsed into a comfortable silence.

Marco ordered us two more drinks while I focused on pulling a croissant off the platter. I halved it and lathered one side in butter until it got whipped from my plate without warning. Marco already had half of it in his mouth by the time I’d manage to scowl at him, so like the dutiful fuckbuddy I usually wasn’t , I coated the other in butter and placed it in front of him as well.

I didn’t think much of it until Marco caught me off guard with a smoldering look that made all my insides feel exposed.

Toward the end of breakfast, Eliyana had come over to invite us to a family gathering she was hosting later that evening in town. We graciously accepted the invitation, and I thought I saw a trace of satisfaction light her features as she took in the proximity between her son and me. His arm was still slung on the back of my chair, his thigh pressed up against my own under the table.

Thinking that I had somehow won her approval sent a pang of happiness straight through my chest, and my heart ached.

It’s all temporary, I tried to remind myself.

But it was growing harder for me to remember that fact as time wore on…my heart was already irrevocably lost to him.

We left the breakfast and headed back to the house not long after eleven. Marco had done his usual disappearing act shortly after our return, and I busied myself by catching up on work from the casino for the rest of the afternoon.

By the time five o’clock rolled around, I started getting ready for the restaurant. I picked out an emerald-green dress with a cowl neckline. It had a slit that ran halfway up my thigh and clung to my body in all the right places, making it both a classy and sexy choice.

The car ride to town had felt more cramped than usual that evening, though that probably had a lot to do with the fact that I was riding in Marco’s SUV with Wyatt and Layton. Jesse, Alonso and Tom followed in the car behind us.

The restaurant screamed wealth and exclusivity as we entered, painted stone walls and decedent smelling candles littering every square inch of available surface. Large arched windows overlooked the Ionian Sea, combined with gentle music being played on a pianoforte. It gave the space a distinctively formal and intimate feel.

Thirty or so family members had already arrived when we entered and were milling about the space, engaged in excited chatter. With one hand resting on my back, Marco led us through the crowd, greeting those in attendance until his mother came into view.

“My darlings, I am so happy to see you both.” She smiled adoringly at us.

I was quickly realizing that Eliyana was everything that my mother was not. Where my mother was as cold as ice and as sharp as a razor, Eliyana’s warmth radiated like sunshine. Her love for her son unmatched by any other mother I had ever seen. Even the fondness she seemed to extend to me after only a short period of knowing her was enough to make my heart swell.

“It has only been a few hours, Mama.” Marco admonished gently.

“Oh hush, child. Adalyn you are looking beautiful,” She enthused, giving me a kiss on both cheeks.

“Thank you, Eliyana.”

“Ada, stay with my mother while I speak to some of the other guests,” Marco all but commanded. He pulled me toward him and swiftly placed a kiss on my forehead before walking away.

A knowing smile crept onto Eliyana’s face as Marco’s form drifted out of sight.

“Come, Adalyn, let me introduce you to some key family members.”

With that, she took my hand and led me over to the nearest group of people.

Fifteen.

That was how many ‘key’ La Torres I had met leading up to and during the course of dinner. Eliyana had introduced me to them all with so much affection and warmth, that by the time our dessert plates were cleared away, I was starting to feel less like an unwelcomed guest and more like a part of the family. Eliyana and her sister Catarina seemed to have that effect on people, I noted.

Even when some of Marco’s cousins began heatedly arguing over a boxing match coming up, they managed to deescalate the dispute within seconds. They were balm to the boiling hot tempers of La Torre men and who, ultimately, seemed to keep the family as strong as it was.

A little while later and toward the end of a conversation with Eliyana’s cousin Francesca about her flourishing new garden, I excused myself in search of a drink. I wandered over to the bar and placed my order: coconut lime spritzer. The last time I’d had one was back in Chicago at one of Marco’s clubs. I smiled at the memories that came with it.

“So, you’re Adalyn Mannino.” An unfamiliar female voice said, coming up beside me.

Unfortunately, her face wasn’t as unfamiliar as I would have liked.

Sofia.

“It’s Rossi.” I corrected. “And you are?” Though I knew all too well her goddamn name.

“Sofia.” She had a smile on her face, but her tone was anything but sweet. “I’m a friend of Marco’s,” she hinted suggestively.

I knew I shouldn’t feel jealous of this woman. That her hint of being friends with Marco didn’t mean a whole lot—at least not according to him. Yet, I still found myself bothered by her insinuation and questioning Marco’s truthfulness…which was, of course, exactly what she wanted.

Instead of showing that she had struck a nerve of insecurity within me, I took a deep sip of my drink and did my best to look bored. “Good for you,” I muttered.

“We’ve known each other for years. Practically grew up together,” she continued, while I put on my best show of ignoring her.

That was until she took a step in my direction.

“Consider this a warning, Adalyn.” An edge creeped into her tone and her expression soured. “Someone like him doesn’t want to fuck Mannino trash like you. Especially not when he has someone like me warming his bed at night.”

I chuckled darkly. “I think you need to check your facts, Sofa. Since he already did fuck Mannino trash like me.”

Her face contorted into rage, and she immediately flushed scarlet red.

I felt a familiar warmth hit my back.

“What’s going on?” Marco’s hard voice cut into the thick silence.

Sofia’s face morphed into a sickly-sweet smile as she turned her attention from me to the Don.

“Nothing at all, Don La Torre. I was just giving Adalyn some advice.” Her voice took on an almost childlike tone as she pressed herself against his side in a well-rehearsed maneuver.

Bitch .

“Indeed. She was telling me all about Mannino trash and how un-fuckable we all are,” I said with an equally innocent smile.

Marco’s indifference turned lethal, and he took a deliberate step away from the woman, wrapping an arm protectively around my waist. My smug smile of satisfaction only grew when I saw the outrage on hers.

“I would never!” She feigned hurt at the accusation. “You know me, Don La Torre. She is clearly very bitter about our friendsh -”

“There is no friendship.” Marco cut her off. “We used to fuck, Sofia. You need to get over it already.”

She made a small noise of indignation. Her face growing even redder than before at his blatant rejection.

“But we’ve known each other for years!” She insisted, clutching onto Marco’s arm like it was a life raft. The desperation in her appeals to the Don were as obvious as they were fruitless.

“Give it a rest, Sofia.” He sighed in exasperation and pulled his arm from her grip, leading me away.

He led me down one of the nearby corridors and didn’t stop until we were in a secluded room away from the bustle of the restaurant. The door closed immediately behind us, and it took my eyes a second to adjust to the dimly lit function room he had brought us into. I walked toward the lone lamp that stood in the corner.

“Are you alright?” He asked after a moment.

“Yup,” I answered quickly, popping the ‘P’. I looked about the room, avoiding the heavy gaze I could feel settling on me.

“If there is something you want to ask, just ask it.”

I hesitated a moment, not sure I wanted the answer to the question on my lips. “She was your booty call the other night, wasn’t she?”

He let out a heavy breath, “Yes.”

Pain twisted in my chest.

He had slept with her after we had kissed, the day after I told him I wasn’t ready. Had he had gone to her because I wasn’t giving him what he wanted? I shook my head in disbelief, my expression darkening with anger.

“I did go to hers that night,” he admitted. “But nothing happened. I realized I didn’t want to be there, and I left.”

“Do you really expect me to believe that?” I demanded, then shook my head dejectedly and shrugged. “You know what, it doesn’t even matter. You’re a Don and can do whatever the fuck you want,” I said, resigning myself to that knowledge and pretending it didn’t hurt.

He scoffed. “Maybe once.” He shook his head, stepping toward me. “Lately there’s this annoying dark-haired, blue-eyed succubus that keeps popping up to ruin everything,” he said with a small chuckle, winding his arms around me.

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered sarcastically, but my heart stuttered at the meaning in his words.

He lowered his eyes to look at me, “I’m not lying to you, Ada. Nothing happened.”

I could see the truth in his eyes and the furrow of his brow.

A half-smile pulled at my lips, telling him I believed him.

Marco’s head dropped to my neck, and he began caressing my skin with his lips, sucking gently. I sighed, my hands knotting in his hair as my body pressed tightly against him. His lips moved to seal against mine and he gripped the back of my thighs, lifting me onto the nearby table. I captured one of his plush lips, giving it a small suck before allowing my tongue to explore his mouth. He stepped between my legs, pulling the material of the dress higher against my thighs.

“What is it with you and black fucking lace?” He breathed against my lips, yanking the material down.

“You don’t like my panties?” I questioned, moving to suck on his throat.

“Yes, I fucking like your panties. I just like them more when they’re on the floor.”

He tossed the material over his shoulder before sinking to his knees in front of me.

Less than a second after his head dipped between my thighs, I felt his tongue against my sensitive skin. I groaned as warmth flooded through me, sending tingles dancing into my belly. I leaned back onto a forearm as I tangled my other hand into his hair, scraping my nails against his scalp as his tongue teased my entrance. He ran one of his large hands over the material of my dress and up over my chest, my neck, not stopping until two of his fingers pushed their way into my mouth.

I sucked on them and swirled my tongue.

“Good girl.” He praised.

Then he thrust the newly wet fingers inside me in a swift, blissful motion.

I moaned and my back arched against the table, hips rolling into him. His tongue flicked once more, and my body flushed with heat as a welcomed tension started to swell and grow.

Then a knock sounded at the door.

Marco ignored whoever was on the other side, his mouth continuing its beautifully torturous path.

The knock sounded again, followed by Layton’s voice. “Sorry Boss, it’s urgent. Mr. Fanelli’s here.”

Marco froze. “Fuck,” He cursed quietly.

To my instant disappointment, Marco rose to his feet and pulled my dress back into place.

He picked up my panties from the floor and tossed them in my direction, “I’m sorry, baby. I gotta take care of this.”

He abruptly turned and left the room before I could respond.

Not knowing what the hell was going on or what Mr. Fanelli being at the restaurant even meant, I quickly slid the material back into place and followed behind him.

“You fucking dare to come here demanding payment, Fanelli?” Marco’s voice boomed down the hall as I approached, angrier than I’d ever heard it before.

The whole room was packed with people that had fallen deathly still as Marco, Jesse, Enzo, and a few other male family members as well as security were standing, facing off with three middle-aged men I hadn’t seen before. The man at the center was clearly the ringleader, judging by the amount of gold jewelry he was wearing. He didn’t seem to be armed, but his two friends certainly were. The barrels of their guns squarely trained on Marco.

“Just because all of the shipment didn’t get there, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t get paid for what did arrive.” The man insisted, looking about the people in the room as if they were going to side with him.

Clearly not the sharpest tool in the shed.

“In order to get paid you actually have to do your fucking job.” Marco spat back. “You deserve nothing.”

“Well, La Torre, I ain’t goddamn leaving until I get what I am owed. I’m nothing if not amiable, so it doesn’t have to be in Euros. Any of the girls here would do just fine.” His eyes coasted over the younger women in the room, myself included.

Marco shoved his hands in his pockets and meandered leisurely over to the man I presumed was named Fanelli. Marco was seemingly at ease with the guns pointed at his head and only stopped when he was less than a foot away from the men.

“Then you can leave here in a box.” He said quietly. Dangerously . The muscle in his jaw clenching.

He turned his back to the man and instantaneously two shots rang out across the room. The men accompanying Fanelli fell to the floor with a sickening thud.

Jesse and Enzo’s guns were drawn and pointed at the now empty spaces, having been the source of the noise.

Leaving Fanelli defenseless.

That’s when Marco attacked.

He swung a nearby chair across the man’s head, bringing him to his knees in the blink of an eye. He then took his handgun from the waistband of his trousers and struck Fanelli clean across the face with the butt of it. Blood flew out of the man’s mouth from the impact, and he fell to the floor barely conscious and totally disorientated. The Don then sprung on the man, gripping him around the throat with both hands and choking him until his eyes began bulging, and his face began purpling.

Choking him with hands that had been all over me only a few minutes before.

Hands that could hurt.

Just like another man’s hands once had.

Even when I had begged him to stop. Even as I couldn’t breathe.

A wave of nausea swept through me, and I stumbled back until I found the door to the ladies restroom.

I locked myself into one of the stalls as tears flowed unrestrained.

Panic gripping me, constricting my throat and I tried concentrating on levelling out my breathing. I can’t allow myself to feel this right now. Breathe! I commanded. I racked in a breath, held it. Another. In. Out. In. Out.

“Are you alright, Bandit?” Jesse’s voice drifted through the now open door to the hall.

I slowly let out the breath I was holding.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just needed to pee,” I lied, trying to make my voice sound even and light. “Do you mind if we head home in a minute? I’m kinda tired.” I prayed he wouldn’t detect the change in my voice.

“Sure. I’m just out here when you’re done.” He answered simply, shutting the door quietly behind him.

I flushed the toilet and unlocked the door, walking over to the vanity to check my makeup. I dabbed at the loose charcoal gathering around my eyes, trying to rectify the mess.

I met my own gaze in the mirror.

God almighty, get it together, Ada.

I had almost drifted to sleep when a sliver of warm light sliced across my bedroom floor from the hallway. The door clicked shut and I felt the mattress decompress beside me as a familiar presence spread across my skin.

Marco .

His heavy arm came to rest across my waist as his chest pressed against my back under the covers. I shifted, nuzzling deeper into his comforting embrace.

“Why did you leave early tonight?” His voice, a deep velvet whisper against my ear broke the gentle thrumming of my heartbeat.

“I was tired,” I lied.

It wasn’t the real reason I had to leave the restaurant, but I couldn’t tell him the truth.

I couldn’t tell him about the panic attack or that his hands on Fanelli’s throat had reminded me of how another man’s hands once gripped my own. I couldn’t tell him that what I saw tonight triggered memories of what had happened to me. Memories that I had tried to bury for the last seven years.

Sharp, cold tendrils of anxiety crept into my chest as my thoughts strayed dangerously close to the subject I wanted so desperately to avoid.

He stilled. I froze.

Shit. Could he know?

“Were you afraid?” His voice was stern despite its gentleness.

I hesitated “I wasn’t afraid of what I saw.” I answered, side stepping the real cause of my fear. “I just wanted to come home.”

He nodded and pressed a kiss to my neck. It eased the tension coursing through me, steadying my heart rate.

“So, you’re still not afraid of me?” I could detect a trace of humor seeping into his serious words.

“You are many things, Don La Torre, but scary isn’t one of them.” I lied tauntingly.

In actuality, the Don beside me did have his moments. But his ego was big enough without me telling him that.

“I should be insulted,” he said, contrite.

“But you’re not, are you?”

“Nope. Not even a little bit.”

I chuckled at his tone.

He turned me on my back to face him. His dark eyes gleamed in the moonlight streaming through the open windows, casting shadows across the handsome features I now found myself looking for in every room. His hand came to rest on the side of my face, tracing a line from my cheekbone to my chin.

“We have to leave tomorrow.” Marco’s eyes told me he wasn’t sure how I would take the news.

“For Chicago?” He nodded and I smiled gently.

I had been missing the familiar stone walls of the mansion. Strangely, it had started to feel like home.

He let out a sigh, “Fanelli is dealt with, but the mess he left behind needs fixing and I can’t do that from Sicily.”

I knew better than to ask for the details and responded simply with “Okay.”

He moved to lay back on the pillows and pulled me against him, tucking me under his arm while my head rested against his chest.

In the comfort of his embrace, it was hard to believe that he was the same man I had seen earlier. That he was the ruthless Don La Torre that had families on either side of the globe trembling in fear.

Another side of him came out around me. A playful, boyish yet charming side. A side that very few got to see.

But it would be na?ve to think that it made him less dangerous. A sinister internal voice was quick to remind me.

“Marco?” I asked gently, unsure whether he was still awake and not wanting to rouse him if he wasn’t.

“Ada?” Came his sardonic response.

I hesitated, suddenly fearful of asking him the question burning on my lips.

“Would you ever hurt me?” I said into the darkness, my voice barely above a whisper.

“No, I wouldn’t.” He let out a heavy breath. “Now stop asking stupid questions and go to sleep.” Humor colored his words and I smiled happily to myself at his answer, snuggling further into his chest.

In his arms, I fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.