EPILOGUE
SEVEN MONTHS LATER
‘Where are we going?’
‘Are you going to be patient or do I have to pull over and pound that gorgeous pussy until you pass out so I can get us there in peace?’
I produced a fake pout that made my husband’s grin widen. ‘Are you calling me a brat?’
‘Oh, most definitely. And brats get spanked on top of what I just promised. So what’s it going to be?’
I squirmed in my seat and his grin widened. He knew exactly what his sexy threats did to me. And he knew exactly when to sprinkle them.
Lately, they’d been arriving more frequently.
At six months pregnant, my horny hormones showed no signs of slowing down. Cesare loved it. He was stoked to be on call for my every little need, just as he was obsessed with every tiny change in my body.
He reached over and spread his large hand over my swollen belly. ‘Do you need me, baby?’
Biting my lip, I whimpered and nodded.
‘Five minutes. I promise it’ll be worth it.’
I dragged my gaze from his face which, now that he smiled more, had gone from stupidly hot to cardiac-threateningly magnificent.
I looked out the window just to get some reprieve from said hotness, then as I concentrated on my surroundings, my eyes widened. ‘Oh my God, is this…’
‘The warehouse where we first officially met? Yeah. I bought the surrounding land and buildings around it ten years ago. But I didn’t settle on the true purpose of what to do with it until last year.’
A lot had happened since our fateful wedding night.
My grandfather had disappeared, the combination of being hunted down by Cesare, the FBI and the Russians sending him deep underground. The last we’d heard he was back in the Old Country, but our sources hadn’t been verified. Yet.
His soldiers confirming that they’d been offered a bonus to kill both Cesare and me on my wedding day had killed any dregs of loyalty for my grandfather.
It hurt, a lot. But I’d learned to live with it.
His disappearance also meant I was free to spend time with my mother and sisters, although I wasn’t allowed in the Mancinelli home by my father’s decree. Not that I much cared.
In three short months, I was going to be a mother. I couldn’t wait. The joy in my heart outweighed the rejection from some factions of my family.
‘Wait for me to open the door, baby,’ Cesare instructed when he stopped the car in front of a building with soaring glass windows. My eyes widened when I saw the massive signage at the top.
Furia Motor Sport.
‘This is what you’ve been not-so-secretly excited about the past few months, isn’t it?’ I asked as he helped me out.
He grinned. ‘Guilty.’
‘So your car design is finally done?’
Much to my surprise, and secret relief, Cesare gave up his racing seat to Dante the day we found out I was pregnant. The dangers of being an underboss was one we would live with until he passed on that mantle to the son I was carrying, but having achieved his dream of being a racing driver, he’d wanted a different, exciting challenge.
And my clever husband had found that challenge.
‘Sì.’ He dropped a quick kiss on my mouth. ‘The manufacturing plant itself will be in Sicily but this is where the ideas will be born. Because this is where the most profound feeling I didn’t recognise as the true purpose of my life started.’
I was lost for words. It was only when his fingers brushed my cheek and he murmured in husky Sicilian did I realise I was weeping tears of joy. I stumbled into his arms, knowing he would catch me. Always.
