Her bravery and boldness in challenging my control had earned my grudging respect. I could not deny it. But I did not intend to let her defy me again.
‘Should I contact Lorenzo and have the island searched?’ the housekeeper asked.
I shook my head. The last damn thing I needed was to have Mia disturb everyone’s peace. The men were tired. They had been working long shifts for months now, not to mention the injuries some of them had sustained during Dante’s attack. And the hunt for that bastard remained ongoing. I suspected he had gone to ground in his estate near Sicily. The Malvini family, his mother’s family, had been little more than a street gang when he had fought his way to the top of their ranks as a boy of fifteen, seven years after he and his mother had been expelled from the Rocco Syndicate by my father.
It was a sorry affair, and I couldn’t help thinking now, after seeing my own son on that monitor, I would not have been able to discard my child so easily. But then, my father’s ruthlessness had made us all rich.
It would be a waste of manpower to storm Dante’s stronghold, but he would have to leave eventually. When he did, I would be waiting. Until that day, though, my men deserved a rest—which meant not spending a day searching the island for a pregnant girl who could not have gone far.
I stared out at the searing blue water, my chaotic heartbeat slowing.
Isla Donna was my sanctuary, the place my father had brought me after rescuing me from my stepfather. The place where I had grown the Rocco Syndicate into an empire of legal and illegal enterprises which spanned all of Europe and was making in-roads now in North and South America. The place where I had come to lick my wounds after the attack, the place where my child would be born and Mia would remain until I tired of her. When that happened, she would be provided for, as long as she obeyed the strictures placed on her for her safety and that of our child.
But as my gaze scanned the coastline, my irritation turned to something that felt akin to panic at the thought Mia might be contrary enough to attempt to swim the five-mile distance to Capri.
Could she really be so desperate to escape me?
Then something caught my eye in the small cove directly below the terrazzo.
Mia. Che cazzo?
What the actual…?
I swore under my breath. Then anxiety gripped my chest, which only made me angrier with her. And with myself.
I had given her space, out of respect for her condition and to give her time to adjust to her situation after last night’s emotional overload, which was another sign of weakness. But I would not trust her again.
‘The signorina will be staying in my rooms from now on,’ I growled as I marched across the wide terrazzo. My housekeeper and the maid rushed off to make the necessary arrangements—at least someone around here knew the consequences of defying me. While I headed down the steps in the cliff wall which led to the private beach, my fury increased with each step.
She would regret making me angry. She had brought this on herself by trying to trick me. She would soon learn, trust had to be earned. And until she earned mine—which was going to take several millennia the way she was going—the safest place for her was in my bed as I rocked us both to orgasm.
She had made it clear by her actions it was the only place in my world where she belonged, and where I could guarantee to keep her out of trouble.
Mia
I stared as a powerboat motored past the end of the cove. Two men stood on the deck, assault rifles thrown casually over their shoulders, while another armed man scanned the horizon with a set of binoculars.
My heartbeat pounded into my throat.
Isla Donna wasn’t an island. It was a fortress. I looked down at my bare feet sinking into the wet sand, my pulse ramping up as the boat disappeared past the rocky headland covered in the dark pink blossoms of bougainvillea.
The island’s spellbinding beauty, the profusion of wildflowers and this deserted beach nestled in a rocky cove beneath the lavish villa above, seemed so peaceful, so calm and relaxing. But for the vivid reminder of who owned this island.
I lifted the light linen negligée I’d found in the suite’s armoire. It looked brand-new—had it belonged to someone else before me? How many other women had Vito brought to his island? The sting of jealousy was lowering. How much of a claim did I really have on him, despite the pregnancy? How much did I even want? We’d been thrown together by fate—and while I now knew he felt a deep sense of responsibility towards his child, there was no evidence yet he would ever feel that for me.
I huffed out a careful breath.
God, I had so many questions I was too scared to ask myself, let alone him.
But there was no getting away from the fact anymore. My life had fundamentally changed now. Deciding to have Vito’s baby hadn’t really been a choice. The minute I’d realised our reckless night together had had unforeseen consequences, I’d felt the surge of love for my child. Forhischild. But had there been more to that visceral longing to keep my unborn baby? Would I have felt the same way about an accidental pregnancy with Dave, even though we had planned to marry? I really didn’t think so. And the implications of that bothered me even more than having to figure out how I was going to find a place in Vito’s world.
The shallow waves caused by the boat’s wake lapped to shore and splashed over my shins, wetting the hem of the negligée. I dug my toes into the sand, absorbing the rough texture and the cool water on my hot skin, and stepped farther into the surf.
I’d woken from a deep sleep twenty minutes ago, surprisingly refreshed, even as the throbbing ache in my sex reminded me of everything that had happened the day and night before…and with whom.
Vito’s face—dark, dangerous and devastating—had haunted my dreams. Another sign the chemistry we shared had always had a powerful effect on my psyche. As well as my libido.
I gathered my hair up to enjoy the sea breeze on my sweaty neck and took another step into the ocean, keen to cool more of my heated skin.
