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CHAPTER TWELVE

Stefano

The salt air burns my lungs as I walk the docks.

Even at this hour, my territory hums with activity—containers being loaded, workers moving with practiced efficiency, everyone careful to acknowledge my presence without making direct eye contact.

Fear is a currency I trade in well.

"Third suspicious incident this week," Tomasso reports, matching my stride. "Security caught movement on the cameras near B7, but whoever it was knew our blind spots."

I stop at the edge of the pier, studying the dark water. The investigation at the club has proven futile so far. Yet someone's getting bolder, pushing boundaries, testing defenses. The thought makes the monster in me stir restlessly.

"Show me," I command, following him to the security office. The cameras paint a fragmented story—shadows moving with purpose, clearly familiar with our routines. Professional. Strategic.

Not random thieves, then. Something worse.

"They're learning our patterns," I observe, watching the footage again. "The guard rotations, the camera sweeps." My fingers drum against the metal desk. "Which means we have a leak."

Tomasso shifts beside me, clearing his throat. "Boss, about that. The timing of these incidents?—"

"Not now." I silence him with a look. I know what he's thinking—how these problems started around the time Ava appeared. But he's wrong. He has to be wrong.

"The Russians have been quiet lately," he says instead, wisely changing topics. "Too quiet."

"The Russians are always quiet before they strike." I straighten, mind already calculating possibilities. "We need to move operations. Temporarily."

"The Moretti family has warehouse space in the south district," he offers. "They might be amenable to an arrangement."

I consider it, weighing risks against advantages. The Morettis are small compared to us, but they're reliable. Predictable. "Make contact. Discreetly. See what kind of fee they'd want for a month's usage."

"And our current shipments?"

"Reroute everything through legitimate channels for now." I move to the window, watching my empire operate below. "Let whoever's watching think they've spooked us into going clean."

Tomasso makes notes on his phone, efficient as always. "Should we increase security at other locations? The club?—"

"The club stays as is." My voice carries an edge that makes him step back slightly. "Nothing changes there."

Because that's where Ava is. Where I can watch her, protect her, keep her close while I figure out what's really happening in my city.

"Of course." Tomasso hesitates, then adds, "She seemed unwell yesterday morning."

My jaw tightens. She wasn’t much better today. I'd left her sleeping, pale and quiet in our bed.

"Handle the Morettis," I say instead of acknowledging his observation. "I want options by tomorrow night."

He nods, already moving to execute my orders. But I remain at the window, watching the water, my mind split between business and something far more dangerous.

Because someone's trying to destabilize my operation. Someone with inside knowledge and professional backing. Someone who?—

"Boss?" Tomasso calls from the doorway. "About those options..."

"Tomorrow," I cut him off. "Take me home," I tell Tomasso, watching Chicago's skyline blur past the window. The city never sleeps, much like the obligations that weigh on my shoulders.

My father's voice echoes in my memory.

The Rega name is everything. Our legacy must endure.

But what legacy? Violence? Fear? The constant dance of power and control that killed my brothers and destroyed my mother's spirit?

I laugh bitterly, earning a concerned glance from Tomasso. If my father could see me now, the wild son who swore he'd never be caught in this life, now carrying the whole weight of everything. Running legitimate businesses alongside the darker ones, trying to build something cleaner than what he inherited.

When I arrive at the penthouse, I find it eerie quiet. Ava's curled in our bed, still wearing her street clothes, like she collapsed the moment she came home. Her face is troubled even in sleep, brow furrowed, lips turned down.

I shed my jacket, my weapons, the armor I wear to face the world. Here, in this space, I can be something else. Someone else.

She shifts as I slide into bed beside her, instinctively turning toward my warmth. Even unconscious, her body recognizes mine. Claims me as I claim her.

"Stefano?" she murmurs, barely awake as I gather her close.

"Sleep, tesoro ," I whisper, but my lips find her temple, her cheek, the curve of her throat. I know I should let her rest, she's been tired lately, quiet in a way that makes me wonder what she's hiding. But having her this close, soft and warm and mine...

“I thought you had business…” Ava murmurs, her voice still heavy with sleep, her hands tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. Her body arches against mine, warm and soft, and I can feel the heat radiating from her, the way her breath hitches as my lips graze her neck.

“You’re my business,” I say, my voice rough with want.

Her skin is smooth under my lips, and I taste her like she’s the only thing I’ve ever needed. My teeth sink into the curve of her shoulder, and she gasps, her fingers tightening in my hair.

Fuck , I love the way she reacts to me, like every touch is electric, like she can’t get enough.

I pull back just enough to look at her, her eyes dark and hazy with desire, her lips parted, breathing shallow. “Stefano,” she whispers, and I can hear the need in her voice, the way it trembles just slightly.

My hands slide up her sides, feeling the curve of her waist, the softness of her skin.

I can feel her shiver under my touch, and I don’t stop until my fingers brush against the swell of her breasts. She’s wearing a thin silk camisole, and I can see the hard peaks of her nipples pressing against the fabric.

Fuck , she’s beautiful.

“Look at you,” I murmur, my voice thick with desire. “So fucking perfect.”

My hands cup her breasts, squeezing gently, and she moans, her head falling back against the pillows. I can’t wait any longer.

I lean down, my lips closing around one of her nipples through the fabric, sucking hard, and she cries out, her back arching off the bed.

“Stefano, please ,” she gasps, and I don’t need to be told twice.

My hands move to the hem of her camisole, pulling it up and over her head, tossing it aside. I take a moment to appreciate the sight—her breasts perfect and full, her skin flushed with arousal, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she watches me with hungry eyes.

I lower my head again, this time taking her nipple into my mouth directly, my tongue swirling around the hard peak.

She moans, her hands gripping my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin. I suck harder, flicking my tongue against her, and she writhes beneath me, her hips shifting restlessly.

“God, you’re so fucking responsive,” I mutter against her skin, moving to her other breast, giving it the same attention.

My hand slides down her body, over the curve of her hip, down her thigh, and then back up, brushing against the heat of her core.

She gasps, her legs parting instinctively, and I can feel how wet she is, even through the thin fabric of her panties.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you, Ava?” I ask, my voice rough, and she nods, her eyes wide and pleading.

“Yes,” she whimpers.

My fingers hook into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down her legs and tossing them aside. Now she’s completely bare, completely exposed, and I can’t take my eyes off her.

I settle between her legs, my hands spreading her thighs wider, and I can see the glistening evidence of her arousal, the way she’s already swollen and ready for me. I lean down, my breath hot against her core, and she shudders, her hands gripping the sheets.

“Stefano, please, don’t tease,” she begs, but I can’t help myself.

I need to taste her, to feel her come apart under my tongue. My tongue flicks out, brushing against her clit, and she cries out, her hips jerking off the bed. I do it again, harder this time, and she moans, her hands moving to grip my hair.

I lick her slowly, dragging my tongue through her folds, savoring the taste of her.

She’s so fucking sweet, so fucking perfect—I can’t get enough of her. I press my tongue against her clit, circling it, and she’s a writhing mess beneath me, her moans filling the room.

“Oh God, Stefano, yes ,” she gasps, her body tightening, her hips moving against my face as she chases her release.

I slide a finger into her, feeling her clench around me, and she cries out, her back arching off the bed.

“You’re so fucking tight,” I growl, adding another finger, thrusting them into her as my tongue continues to work her clit.

She’s so close, I can feel it, the way her body is trembling, the way her breathing is coming in short, shallow gasps.

“I’m going to come,” she says, gasping, and I curl my fingers inside her, hitting that spot that makes her scream.

Her orgasm crashes over her, and she’s shaking, her thighs clamping around my head as she rides it out, her moans turning into a long, keening wail.

I don’t stop until she’s completely spent, her body limp on the bed, her chest heaving. I pull back, licking my lips, and she looks at me with wide, dazed eyes.

“Jesus, Stefano,” she breathes, and I smirk, climbing up her body, my cock pressing against her stomach.

I’m so fucking hard, I can barely think straight, but I want her to know who she belongs to.

“You’re mine, Ava.”

She nods, her eyes dark with desire.

I shift, positioning myself at her entrance, and I can feel how wet she is, how ready she is for me.

“Take me,” she whispers, and I don’t need to be told twice.

I push into her slowly, feeling her stretch around me, her body welcoming me in. She’s so fucking tight, so fucking perfect, and I groan, my hips pushing forward until I’m fully sheathed inside her.

“Fuck, Ava,” I mutter, my hands gripping her hips, and she moans, her legs wrapping around my waist.

I start to move, my thrusts slow and deliberate, and she gasps, her nails digging into my back.

“Harder,” she begs, and I oblige, my hips picking up speed, my cock slamming into her with enough force to make the bed shake.

Her moans are driving me wild, and I can feel my own release building, but I’m not ready to let go yet.

I want to make her come again, to feel her clench around me as she falls apart.

I reach between us, my fingers finding her clit, and I rub it in quick, tight circles. She screams, her body tightening around me, and I know she’s close.

“Come for me, Ava,” I growl, and she does, her orgasm crashing over her as she clenches around me, her body shaking with the force of it.

I can’t hold back anymore, and with a few more thrusts, I’m coming with her, my release spilling deep inside her.

We’re both breathing heavily, our bodies slick with sweat, and I collapse on top of her, my head resting on her chest. She’s still trembling, her fingers running through my hair, and I know I’ve done exactly what I set out to do.

I pull back just enough to look into her eyes, dark with desire. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” I say, my voice rough with emotion I’m trying to hide.

I sweep her into my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist instinctively. She’s light, but the way she clings to me feels like she’s anchoring me to the earth.

I carry her to the bathroom, her lips trailing soft kisses along my jawline, her breath warm against my skin.

I turn on the shower, steam curling in the air. I set her down gently, her feet touching the cool tile. She looks up at me, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted, and I can’t resist kissing her again.

This time, it’s slower, deeper, more deliberate, my tongue exploring every inch of her mouth. Her hands slide up my chest, her nails lightly scratching my skin, and I groan into her lips.

“Turn around,” I command, my voice leaving no room for argument. She turns her back to me, and I press my body against hers, my hands roaming her curves.

I kiss the nape of her neck, my teeth nipping gently, and she lets out a soft moan. My hands find her breasts, cupping them, my thumbs brushing over her nipples until they harden under my touch.

I guide her under the warm spray of water, the droplets cascading over her skin. My hands slide down her sides, over her hips, and she leans back into me, her ass pressing against my hardness.

I can’t help but grind against her, the friction making both of us gasp.

“You’re amazing,” I murmur, my lips brushing against her ear.

My hands continue their exploration, sliding between her legs, my fingers finding her wetness. She’s so ready for me again, but I can’t resist the urge to tease her.

I circle her clit with one finger, slow and deliberate, and she lets out a moan that sends a jolt of heat straight to my cock.

“ Stefano…I” she breathes, her voice trembling.

“What do you want?” I ask, my voice a low whisper, my fingers still teasing her.

“You,” she gasps, her hands gripping the wall in front of her. “I want you.”

I slip a finger inside her, slowly, feeling her clench around me. “Tell me how much,” I demand.

“So much,” she moans, her hips rocking back against my hand. “Please. Again.”

I add another finger, curling them inside her, and she cries out, her body trembling.

My other hand grips her hip, holding her steady as I pump my fingers in and out of her, the sound of her wetness mixing with the rush of the water. Her moans grow louder, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps, and I know she’s close.

“I want to see you. Show me how good it is for you.” My fingers move faster, harder, and she does, her body convulsing as her orgasm crashes over her.

I feel her walls clench around my fingers, and I don’t stop until her legs are shaking, until she’s panting and leaning heavily against the wall.

Then, I turn her around, my hands gripping her ass as I lift her up, her legs wrapping around my waist. Her lips find mine, hungry and demanding, and I kiss her back just as fiercely. My cock presses against her entrance, and I pause, looking into her eyes.

“ You’re mine,” I say, my voice a low growl.

She looks at me, her eyes dark with need, then turns away, as if she can’t stand to hear the words. As if she doesn’t know what to say back.

I thrust into her, slowly at first, savoring the way she feels around me.

She’s so tight, so wet, and the sensation is overwhelming. Her nails dig into my shoulders, and she lets out a moan that makes me want to claim her all over again.

I move faster, harder, the sound of our bodies slapping together mixing with the rush of the water.

“You feel so good,” she gasps, her head falling back, and I take the opportunity to suck on her neck, leaving another mark on her skin. I can’t get enough of her, and I know I never will.

Her hands slide down my chest, her fingers brushing over my abs, and she looks up at me with a mischievous glint in her eye.

She surprises me by sliding down my body, her knees hitting the tile, and before I can react, her mouth is on me, taking me in.

“Fuck,” I groan, my hands tangling in her hair as she sucks me with a boldness that drives me wild. Her tongue swirls around the tip, her lips sliding up and down my length, and I can’t believe how good she feels.

She’s eager, hungry, and the sight of her on her knees, her mouth worshipping me, is almost too much to handle.

“That’s right, baby,” I say, my hips thrusting slightly into her mouth. She moans around me, the vibration sending shivers down my spine, and I know I’m close. But I’m not ready to let this end just yet.

I pull her up, her lips swollen from my cock, and I kiss her fiercely, my tongue claiming hers. I lift her again, pressing her against the wall, and I enter her in one swift motion. She gasps, her nails digging into my back, and I start to move, my thrusts hard and unrelenting.

“You’re mine,” I growl, my voice rough with desire. “Say it.”

“Yours,” she moans, her body trembling with every thrust. “Only yours.”

I can feel her tightening around me, her body on the edge once again, and I know I’m close, too. I reach between us, my fingers finding her clit, and I rub it in quick, tight circles. She screams, her body clenching around me, and I can’t hold back anymore. With a few more thrusts, I’m coming with her, my release spilling deep inside her.

We’re both breathing heavily, our bodies slick with water and sweat, and I press my forehead against hers, our eyes locked. She’s still trembling, her arms wrapped around my neck, and this time, I know she’s mine.

* * *

Later, watching her drift back to sleep, I trace patterns on her bare shoulder and think about legacies. About what we inherit and what we choose. About the life I want to build—something stronger than fear, cleaner than blood.

I think about the woman in my arms who makes me want to be more than just my father's son.

" Ti amo ," I whisper into her hair, the words dangerous in their truth. Because love is a weakness in this world, and I've given her so many weapons to destroy me.

But as she curls closer in her sleep, I find I don't care. Let her be my weakness. Let her be my strength.

Let her be the reason I build a legacy worth having.