Page 34 of Veil of the Past
I spot Emiliano at the far end, lounging in one of the deep, leather-lined booths, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He’s talking to Dominico, whose eyes are focused on something distant, his expression unreadable. I catch Eli’s eye, and he gives a quick nod, signaling for me to come over. I weave through the crowd, slipping past the waitstaff carrying trays of drinks, my footsteps barely making a sound on the plush carpet.
As I approach, I see Dom lean in, speaking quietly, his voice low, his expression tight. He’s always like that—calculated, cool, the kind of guy who measures every word. Eli looks more relaxed, but I know better. He’s always coiled tight, like a spring ready to snap. Even when he looks laid back, his mind is working a mile a minute.
I slide into the booth next to Eli, across from Dom. Eli’s eyes flick to me, his smile tight, a hint of tension in his gaze. “Romiro,” he greets me, his tone light but there’s an edge to it. “What did you find out?”
I take a moment, choosing my words carefully. “Val’s dad,” I say slowly. “He’s alive. Paralyzed, but alive. The Moretti brothers are tearing each other apart, fighting for control, and there’s talk of a planned attack. Rumors mostly, but enough chatter to suggest it’s serious.”
Eli’s smile fades, his face hardening. He takes a slow sip of his whiskey, letting the information settle. Dom leans back, his fingers tapping on the edge of his glass, his eyes narrowing slightly. He’s listening closely, always weighing every piece of information like it’s a puzzle he’s trying to solve.
“The old man being alive changes things,” Dom murmurs, his voice calm but sharp. “If he’s paralyzed, he’s a weak figurehead. But he’s still the Capo in the eyes of many. The brothers fighting… it’s a power vacuum, and that makes them unpredictable.”
Eli nods, his jaw tightening. “And if they’re planning an attack, it could mean they’re trying to solidify their position, unite under a common cause. Or it’s a smokescreen for something bigger.” He pauses, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, staring into it like he’s trying to read the future in its depths.
I lean in, lowering my voice. “Are you going to tell Valentina?”
Eli’s head snaps up, his gaze piercing. For a moment, he doesn’t answer, just watches me, assessing. “No,” he says finally, his tone firm, brooking no argument. “She’s not… she’s not in a good place right now. She’s been struggling, mentally. I don’t want to add to that. Not until she’s a bit more stable.”
I nod, understanding, but a part of me is uneasy. Val has a right to know, doesn’t she? But Eli’s protective, fiercely so, and I know he’s not saying this lightly. Still, I have to push, just a little. “She’ll find out eventually, Eli. Better it comes from you.”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair, looking older than he is for a moment. “I know,” he mutters. “But not yet. Let her get stronger first. Then I’ll tell her. Right now, she needs to feel safe. She needs to feel… like she has some control.”
Dom nods in agreement, his gaze steady on Eli. “He’s right. If we tell her now, it could set her back. She’s been through enough. We need to handle this carefully.”
I glance between them, feeling the weight of their decision. I get it. But it doesn’t make it any easier. Val’s been through hell, and knowing her father’s alive, it could break her.
Eli downs the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, slamming the glass down on the table with a soft thud. “Keep your ear to the ground, Romiro,” he says, his voice tense but controlled. “Find out if these rumors have any teeth. And if they do, we need to be ready.”
I nod, my mind already spinning with possibilities, plans forming and reforming. “I’ll find out,” I promise. “And I’ll make sure we’re not caught off guard.”
Eli leans back, his expression hardening, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Good. Because if they’re coming for us… we’ll make sure they regret it.”
* * *
I take a steadyingbreath as I make my way down the hall, my footsteps echoing softly on the polished floor. Her door opens before I even have a chance to knock, and she's standing there, eyes bright and inviting. I hardly have a second to take her in before she pulls me in.
The door barely has time to close behind me before her hands are on my chest, pulling me down into her. I take a step forward, and her back hits the wall, a soft gasp escaping her lips. I’m on her before she can catch her breath, my mouth capturing hers in a hungry kiss. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, holding me tight, and it only fuels the fire that’s been building inside me all night. I pull back, my fingers trace the flimsy see-through nighty she’s wearing. Leaning down, my lips trace the outside shell of her ear as I whisper, “Did you wear this”—my fingers trace the hemline of the nighty—“for me?”
Her fingers dig into my shirt, and she lets out a breathless, “Maybe.” With one swipe, I tear the flimsy thing off her body, a low curse escaping from my lips when I can finally see her whole body, she’s fully naked. Alessia isn’t wearing any underwear.
Pushing her back into the wall, I feel her body press into mine, the heat between us undeniable, like something electric coursing through my veins. Her hands slide up to my neck, tangling in my hair, and I can feel her heart pounding against my chest. My lips find hers, and I take my time as my thumb traces her hard nipples, toying with them, drawing out breathy moans. I groan against her lips, biting down, and when she gasps, I thrust my tongue into her mouth. The kiss deepens, urgent, full with a hunger that’s been simmering for too long.
“Romiro,” she breathes, my name a desperate whisper on her lips, and it’s all I need to hear. I pull her closer, lifting her slightly, and she wraps her legs around my waist, her body arching into mine. I feel her shiver under my touch, her breath hitching as my hands roam, exploring every curve, every soft line. She arches her back, and I can feel her wetness soak the front of my pants.
I lay her down on the bed, tugging and biting at her bottom lip. I give her a final peck before slowly moving to her neck. I bite down on her sensitive spot, earning me a moan. “Romiro...I—” I don’t let her finish talking, I thumb her nipple, before tugging at it. Unable to resist, I lean in and take the nipple into my mouth, lapping my tongue against it like a teenager with a tit obsession. Her lip’s part. “Mmmm…” The sound goes straight to my dick, hardening it to the point of torture. I bite down on her nipple enough to cause slight discomfort. Moving down her body, I kiss, bite, tug,and take. Fuck she’s heaven.
I pull back, watching her flushed face, her hooded eyes on mine, I take my time parting her soft thighs, pressing a kiss along the inside of her thigh as I make my way toward her heat. I swipe my tongue over her sex before focusing on her clit. I trace my fingers over her wetness, teasing her entrance with them before thrusting my fingers inside her. Christ, she’s soaked.
“Is this all for me, Red?” I ask, my voice sounding foreign to me.
Her fingers tug at my hair, as she chokes out, “Yes, God, yes.” Her breaths come in sharp gasps, and I feel her body tense, arching beneath me. I take my time, teasing her, drawing out every reaction, every sound, until I feel her begin to unravel, her breath hitching, her body quivering under my touch.
“Please,” she whispers, her voice breathless, and I feel a surge of satisfaction at her need, at the way she’s falling apart in my hands. I draw it out, letting the tension build, feeling her tighten, her breath catches, and then I give her what she wants, what she needs. I let her come.
She cries out, her body shuddering, her hands gripping the sheets, and I don’t stop until I feel her relax, her muscles trembling, her breath coming in uneven gasps. I move back up to her, capturing her lips in another kiss, my hand cradling her face, my thumb brushing over her cheek.
She’s still trembling, her eyes wide and dark, and I feel the need inside me rising, demanding to be sated. I move over her, quickly unbuckling and positioning myself, her legs wrap around me, pulling me closer, her nails digging into my shoulders. I meet her gaze, holding it, making sure this is what she wants, what she needs.
And then, in one swift movement, I thrust into her, hard and deep, and her head falls back, a soft gasp escaping her lips. I breathe her in and memorize the complete abandon on her striking features as I fuck her in a rhythm that leaves her whimpering for her release. She comes apart when I pull back, then drive back in.
