Page 68 of Devotion


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He gives me a doleful smile. “That I never wanted to bring children into this world and suffer what I have. But I have no choice. In my family, we are obligated to marry and have children. And if that’s what I have to do…” He pauses. “Well let’s just say I like the way you think about that.”

I know he isn’t sharing all his thoughts, but that’s okay. My heart beats a little faster. Is he saying he’d like to have children withme?

Huh.

It goes without saying that Sergio and I didn’t have that love and acceptance. I wonder if that's why we find solace in each other. It goes far beyond sexual attraction. I've seen the women in that club, and I look at Sergio and know he's wealthy and attractive and powerful. He could have any woman he wants. But he wants me. Little old, plain and simple, more than a little nerdy, me. There's something about me that attracts him above all the other women. My heart melts a little bit with that. It feels like a responsibility and an honor.

If someone had told me a month ago that I would be attracted to a criminal, I would've laughed out loud. But now it's hard to imagine being with anybody else. Because this is a man that understands me. This is a man that appreciates who I am, deep down in my soul, whatever that is. And I'm at a point in my life where I’m questioning so many things, everything I've been taught, and I need to look within myself to remember what I know.

“We’re here.”

Hoo, boy.

I swallow hard and look up at the most imposing, stately home I have ever seen in my life. It's hard to even call it a home. If I hadn’t been told where we were going before we arrived here, I would have thought that we'd just pulled up to a museum or something.

I'm suddenly nervous. I had too much on my mind earlier to really worry about anything, and all I could focus on was the conversation we were having. But now that we're here, I worry.

Will they like me? Will I stand out? But the biggest fear of all is, will they know who I am? I want to be anonymous. The thought of anyone finding out where I came from terrifies me.

My heart is racing, my palms are sweaty. I feel a little dizzy, and all of these reactions are so familiar because I felt this way every time Seth would come home from work.

And suddenly, Sergio’s warm, rough, much larger hand finds mine, holding it. "Breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

I do what he says. I do it again, and again, until my heart slows down a little bit, and I don't feel as if I'm going to be sick.

"How did you know to do that?"

"I'm a dominant. I've seen many people in club situations who let their nerves or fears get the best of them. We've learned how to help calm someone down. Sometimes a scene is intense, and sometimes people need a little help."

No one needed to tell me he’s a dominant. I don't even know what a dominant is, but I know he's one. I give him a little smile. "Thank you."

The car idles in front of a large, heavy gate. Security guards stand at attention in uniform, ready to let us in. I can tell they recognize Sergio right away, but he's not ready to go in yet.

He explains patiently. “These are guards. They're going to open those gates, and then I’ll drive in. We’ll get out of the vehicle, and they're going to park it for me. Then there will be nothing between you and my family, but we're going in there together. You're not alone. Understand?"

I swallow and nod. "I do. Thank you."

We roll up closer to the gate. There must be six or seven men in uniform, and everyone stands like a soldier when they see Sergio. Once again, I'm struck by the way everyone else looks at him, ready to do whatever he says. It's hard sometimes for me to remember how powerful he is because I've seen the milder side of Sergio. But here, the milder sign of him is gone. He exits the car with the keys still in the ignition, and I don't hear what he says, but his tone is brisk and low. All command.

They scurry like ants, one nodding, one running around to my side of the car, but with a sharp bark from Sergio, the guard stands back.

"Ifucking open her door." The guard hurries back apologetically.

I draw in another breath through my nose, and I release it through my mouth. It's a warm day, with a gentle breeze, and when the wind kicks up, I’m struck with the scent of roses. He takes my hand as the guards take the car, and I have to admit, I like the way they treat him like a king. They bow to him and say things likeyes, sir. Right away, sir. Is there anything I can help you with, sir?

I've never been given special treatment before. I'm not exactly a VIP. But I am with Sergio.

After we walk a few paces, I see where the scent of roses comes from. "Oh, Sergio. It's beautiful." We've come upon a rose garden.

"The Rossi family symbol is the rose. When they helped us establish our family here, Narciso Rossi, their late father, had these roses planted."

“Did you like him?”

Sergio laughs out loud. "He was the Devil fucking incarnate." He shakes his head. “Sorry. No, he was a terrible man. But this is one thing he did that I appreciate. That, and making sure that he populated the earth with a bunch of little Rossis." He smiles at me. "You've met Marialena and Mario. You'll meet the others soon."

Before we go up to the main house, Sergio bends and takes a closer look at the roses. He reaches into his pocket, removes something squat and metal, then presses a button. A knife springs out. I stare at him. Who carries a knife in their pocket? I close my eyes briefly and will myself to calm my rapidly beating heart.

It doesn't mean anything. Nothing at all. He's not just someone who's dangerous, I've known people who were a lot more dangerous than he is. I try to talk myself out of it. And when I open my eyes, he's cut off three of the most beautiful red roses. "Here. These are as pretty as you are.”

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