“Watch me try.” I bury my mouth into hers and fist her hair. “Solved them pretty well tonight.”
I linger with her like that. God, the thought of almost losing her was like a nightmare. I can’t imagine how hard it was for her to climb into that car’s trunk only to find herself trapped all over again. The thoughts she must’ve had racing through her head. But history won’t repeat itself. I won’t let it. Not while I’m here to make sure she’s safe.
Fiorella’s my priority.
There’s no disappearing from me. I’ll rip an entire fucking house to the studs just to make sure she’s safe.
“We’ll go tomorrow.” Her hands move to the hem of my shirt. She tugs on it lightly, then slips her palm over the skin of my abdomen. She moves them along my back, grazing her fingernails lightly. The scratching sends a tingle down my spine, and I’m half hard when she kisses me again. “We need to rest up tonight.”
“The way you’re looking at me, I don’t think I’m going to get much sleep.”
“I thought I was trapped in that trunk forever.”
I pull her tighter against me. “I won’t ever let that happen to you. Do you understand, Fiorella?” Passion rolls over my skin. The desire to protect her is like a grenade in my chest. I feel it so strongly my jaw tightens, and if I could bring back those dead Serrano soldiers and kill them all over again for her pleasure, I’d fucking do it.
I’ll make them all scream for what they did to her.
“I know you won’t.”
I kiss her hard. I consume her. I’ll break the whole goddamn world to make sure she’s never in a terrible position like that again. Even though a part of me is proud of her for making the hard decision to climb into that trunk. She’s so much stronger than she realizes, and I know she’s going to be a perfect partner and an incredible mother.
I drag her upstairs, heedless of anything else, because I can’t stand another second without my dick sunk deep between her legs. I need her moans. I need her sweat.
And I need the blood of everyone that fucking hurt her.
Chapter 36
Fiorella
The bulletproof vest is itchy and way too tight. It binds against my breasts and makes it hard to breathe.
“I’m sweating like a freaking pig in this thing,” I grumble as we walk toward Filippo Benedetti’s house. It’s a little row home deep in South Philly. About as Italian as it gets.
“I’d rather you be sweaty and alive than dead.” Luca’s walking very close to me and looking around like a maniac. Enzo’s shadowing us across the street, and Stefano’s in a parked car nearby. One of Davide’s drones buzzes overhead. Leo would be here if I hadn’t insisted on him staying behind to watch Raf and Elisa.
“And I’d rather be pretty and demure for this meeting, not a stinking mess.” I lightly elbow him in the ribs. “It’s going to be okay, you know.”
“It will, because I’m making sure of it.” He seems grim. “Filippo didn’t draw on your brother, but that doesn’t mean he’s an ally.”
“He’s an accountant. He’s not stupid. I’ve known him all my life, and if there’s anyone in this Famiglia who makes decisions based on logic and reason instead of raw emotion, it’ll be him.”
“And you think his logic says he should back us?”
“I think he knows the Famiglia is doomed if Corrado takes over. Without Marino money, they’re fucked.”
“Trust an accountant to follow the cash.”
“Exactly.” I kiss my husband’s cheek and beam at him. “Besides, Filippo likes me.”
His expression darkens. “If that motherfucker so much as looks at you?—”
“Oh, stop it. I’ve known him since I was a child. He’s been managing the Famiglia’s books forever.”
“Doesn’t change anything.”
“Don’t let your jealousy ruin a good meeting.” We walk up the stoop together, and I step ahead of him to knock on the door. “Best behavior, alright?”
“No fucking promises.”
