“Nah,” Cyan answers before I can. “Just carrying my lass. I like feeling her in my arms.”
Lucilla’s smile cracks, a twitch in her cheek, and a tightening around her eyes. A pang of something vulnerable etches into her expression before she forces it away with a brittle laugh. “Right. Well… enjoy your day.” She lingers a second too long, watching Cyan adjust me against his chest. Then she turns on her heel and walks away, spine straight… but I see her shoulders tremble it’s minuscule, the only slip in her perfect façade.
Rosa’s warning hums in my mind.Trust is everything in this family, Aria. Don’t let the wrong person play with yours.
Now I see it clearly. Lucilla didn’t let the information slip out about Cyan and Elana. Sadness for her tightens in my chest. Because beneath the jealousy, beneath the bitterness, I saw it, the flicker of a woman starving for her husband’s devotion. The kind Thomas never gives her. For one awful moment…I feel guilty. Guilty that I have what she aches for, guilty that she looked at me like I’m holding something she’s been begging the universe for and never receives.
As we step inside, the truth settles in my mind. This world–its dangers, its masks, its secrets–belongs to me now, and I need to learn how to survive in it. Because I’m about to become a mobster’s wife.
Forty- One
“Love doesn’t bloom, it burns, and once the fire starts, you either feed the flame... or watch everything else turn to ash.”–Cyan MacBrady.
As I cradle my Dove in my arms, she molds against me. This woman–she’s made for me, carved by the universe with my hands in mind. I feel the exact moment she slips into sleep, her breathing evening out against my neck. With everything going on in my life, holding her unleashes a quiet peace inside me. My desire for her has grown beyond the physical; it’s an addiction, to her presence, her warmth, her very existence.
We reach the bedroom. I lower her onto the mattress with care, and she turns onto her side, so trusting. I can’t stop myself from tracing a finger along the curve of her cheek… down the underside of her neck… over the bronze skin that glows even in daylight. The way she surrendered to me while I fucked her.Aye,she’s unquestionably mine. I meant to draw her a bath, to worship every inch of her curvy body, but the intensity of what we did in the car drained her. I bend down, brush my lips against hers, unable to resist even a sleeping kiss from her full, alluring lips. I take care and undress her—her torn dress, her bra, her ripped panties. A yellow set today. That little compulsive habit of hers tugs a smile from me. As I adjust the covers over her naked body, she curls into a pillow, puckering her bum just enough that I drag my hand over the perfect curve of her ass. The urge to take her again pulses hot through my veins, but she needs rest.
I strip and slide in beside her. Aria curls into my chest; even in sleep she can’t resist our connection.
My phone rips me from sleep. I jolt awake, reaching out. Aria’s side of the bed is cold. Christ. I can’t remember the last time I took a nap in the middle of the day and didn’t hear her move. Troy’s name flashes across the screen. “Troy, what’s up?” I grunt, still groggy.
“C, I know you said you’re spending the day with Aria, but we’ve got a situation. Meeting at Collin’s. Everyone’s already here.”
“Right. I’ll be there in twenty.” I hang up and swing my legs out of bed. My clothes are folded on the bedside table–Aria’s work. I slept through her moving around.That never happens.The last time I slept this sound was when I was a snot-nose kid.
Pulling on joggers, a tee, and running shoes, then head downstairs. Halfway to the kitchen, a smell hits me: savory, mouthwatering. . I follow the scent and find Aria at the counter, guiding pasta dough through pasta maker. She’s so focused she doesn’t even notice me.She’s cooking? For me.I step behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. “Oi, Dove, why didn’t you wake me?”
She turns in my arms, those bright doe-brown eyes meeting mine. “Because you looked peaceful. I wanted to surprise you with dinner.”
She tilts her head. “I think watching you sleep is my new favorite pastime.” Unable to resist, I capture her lips in a lingering kiss, savoring the flavor of her. Our tongues dance, her soft moans igniting a familiar fire. She breaks away, breathless.
“Oh no, we’re not starting that,” she swats my chest. “I’m cooking.” A warmth I’m not used to coils through me, unsettling in its gentleness. I reach for her again, but she dodges with a teasing smile. “Later, Cyan. I don’t want my sauce to burn.”
She turns back to the machine. “I found the pasta attachment. Rosa must’ve stocked your kitchen. I’m making my Nonna’s lasagna.”
My possessive side wants to haul her onto the dining table and feast on her instead, but I rein myself in. “Aye, that’s Rosa’s doing,” I wish I could stay and watch her. “Listen, Dove… today was meant for us. But I’ve got to duck out for a bit. Emergency meeting at Collin’s.”
Her smile falters. “You’re leaving?”
“Just for a little while. Then I’m all yours.”
Her smile returns, soft and warm. “Good. Dinner will be ready when you get back.”
I lean in, grazing her ear with my teeth. “Can’t wait to have you for dessert.”
She leans into me, and I can’t help but give that delectable ass of hers a squeeze . Pulling away I leave before I change my mind about the meeting at all.
Jogging over to Collin’s, I pass a few foot soldiers who nod showing their respect. A reminder of the war simmering between us and the Rizzotto syndicate, always waiting, almost ready to ignite.
***
Collin’s place is the opposite of mine, my brother lives like a ghost. Stackable lawn chairs in the breakfast nook. A bed in the bedroom. Only one anomaly—his grand piano dominating the living room. He plays it with a precision that borders on haunting. Walking into the living room I see the lads, all sitting with awkward posture on the plastic chairs like misfit kings.
“Right, I’m here,” I announce. “Let’s make this quick. My lady is waiting.”
“Wooo, so she finally gave it up,” Gabriel crows. “Had me worried for a bit. Mighty Cyan MacBrady having to work for pussy.”
“You’re a real piece of work,” I shoot back. “I hope Collin’s dodgy chair gives out under your weight. One day, you’ll meet a woman who’ll rip yer balls off for all the pussy you’ve chased.”
