Page 102 of Read This Before the Villain falls in Love with You

She straddles my hips, wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her thumb. Her gold wedding band glints in the morning light. Mine matches it, heavy on my finger where it rests against her bare hip.

Getting those bands on our fingers was its own catastrophe six months ago. We held the ceremony in the courtyard garden down below, mostly because Nonna threatened to disown me if we did not give her fifty cousins an excuse to drink prosecco. Oliver flew in twenty crates of British truffles, Evelyn cornered Adrian near the roses to ask if he had ever disposed of a body in quicklime, and Matteo lost our rings inside the chapel fifteen minutes before Nora walked down the aisle.

I had him pinned against the vestry wall by his collar until Enzo crawled out from behind the altar, clutching the velvet box covered in cobwebs.

Nora didn’t hesitate for a second when she stepped onto the terrace in that ivory lace dress, even though Oliver was weeping openly beside her. Her dad clutched her arm like a lifeline, sobbing loudly into a handkerchief while muttering that his pumpkin was leaving him for another man.

She patted his hand with dry affection, kept her chin high, and locked her eyes on mine, walking down the stone aisle like she already owned every single person in the seats. When the priest cleared his throat and nodded toward the paper vows on the stand, she ignored them completely.

She slid the ring onto my finger in front of two hundred guests. "I promise to keep your brothers from ending up on interpol notices. I promise not to stab you in your sleep when you micromanage my calendar. And I promise to never let you go back to living like a ghost."

I gripped her hand tight. "I promise to listen. And I promise you will never have to fight for your life alone again."

Matteo had sobbed into a silk handkerchief, which earned him an elbow in the ribs from Enzo, while Nonna crossed herself and drank her third glass of wine.

The priest made the sign of the cross over our joined hands. "By the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

I pulled her in by the waist without waiting another second, pressing my mouth against hers while our family cheered, whistled, and clapped behind us. Nora wrapped her arms around my neck, laughing softly against my lips before kissing me back with everything she had.

The memory of that altar fades out as a soft warmth grazes my skin. Nora snaps me out of my head, leaning down to press a slow, lingering kiss along my jawline. "Breakfast in bed," she murmurs against my neck.

I rest both palms on her waist. "You skipped several standard nutritional groups."

She tosses her hair over her shoulder. "Protein is protein, Moretti. Besides, the house is finally quiet. We have to celebrate before your brothers burn the kitchen down again."

She is not wrong. Her parents left two days ago after staying with us for nearly a week. Oliver took over Nonna's stove with loud, stubborn confidence, while Evelyn spent four afternoons taking notes on our family security protocols for her next crime novel. Having them under our roof was chaos, but it was warm, ordinary chaos. Now they are safely back in London, and the estate has settled back into its own strange routine.

Nora runs her crisis management firm across both Italy and London now, managing high-profile nightmares with Amelia via encrypted calls and private flights. She only takes the truly impossible cases these days. The rest of her time belongs to handling our syndicate's public disasters before they become federal headlines.

I am still getting used to peace that does not require a body count.

Nora shifts her weight above me, snapping me out of my thoughts. Her bare knees press into the mattress on either side of my ribs, her skin warm and flushed in the morning sun. Her eyes narrow as she catches me staring, a dangerous curve tugging at her mouth.

She trails a nail down the center of my chest. "You're quiet. Planning another hostile takeover, or just daydreaming?"

I slide my hands up the smooth curve of her thighs to rest firmly on her hips. "Remembering how we got here. And how much trouble you gave Matteo on that plane."

"Matteo had it coming." She rolls her hips slightly, and the friction sends a sharp bolt of heat straight to my groin. "Just like you do right now."

I grip her waist, lifting her just enough before letting her slide down. She sinks onto me with a soft gasp, taking every inch until her hips hit mine. Her fingers dig hard into my shoulders, her head tilting back as she catches her breath.

I thumb the delicate skin of her hip bone. "Still so bossy."

"Shut up and hold on, Moretti." She groans, starting a slow, ruthless roll that wipes every thought from my head.

"Yes, Mrs. Moretti," I grip her hips harder.

She rides me with that same stubborn, unyielding rhythm she brings to every fight, taking complete control until the pace breaks. I sit up, wrapping one arm around her waist to pull her flush against my chest while my other hand tangles into her hair. My mouth crashes into hers, swallowing her breathless moans as our bodies slam together on the tangled sheets.

The pleasure builds sharp and fast, coiling tight in my gut until she shudders against my skin, her walls clamping around me with frantic pulses. The sound of her cry breaks my control, and I thrust up into her one last time, spilling hard inside her as the world narrows down to just the two of us.

When it's over, she collapses against my chest, her cheek pressed over my racing heart. I wrap both arms around her, breathing in the scent of jasmine and warm skin, content to stay right here forever.

Nora rests her chin on my chest with a lazy, satisfied smirk. "As much as I'd love to lie here all day, Moretti, your stomach is making enough noise to wake the dead."

I press a kiss to the crown of her head before slipping out from under her. "Then let's get up."

I walk over to the en-suite bathroom and return with a warm, damp cloth. Nora rolls onto her back, watching me with hooded eyes as I sit on the edge of the mattress. Carefully, gently, I clean her thighs, wiping away every trace of our morning together before taking care of myself. She sighs in comfort, letting her eyes drift shut beneath the morning light.