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I peer into his eyes. "But how am I supposed to reconcile the two? How can I be a mother, yet also explore my sexual identity? Especially when I need to be treated a certain way in order to feel anything. It’s wrong Seb. I don’t want to go to those nightclubs. I don’t want to look at others getting it on."
"You don’t have to."
"You're not listening to me. It’s a part of me I cannot cut out completely."
"You don’t have to."
He holds my gaze and there’s decisiveness in his features.
"I don’t understand."
"I’m saying, there’s a way for you to be a mother, and my wife, and not have to give up the part that makes you feel fulfilled as a woman."
My heart begins to race and my pulse pounds at my temples.
"What… what are you saying?" I whisper.
"I’ll be your Dom."
13
Seb
After that pronouncement, I told Elsa to take her time thinking about my proposition. Clearly, she wasn’t expecting that—she paled and froze on the spot. After allowing her to grab a few things, I led her out of the apartment, and she didn’t protest. I walked her into my house and showed her the guest bedroom I’d readied for her. I even showed her the closet full of clothes I'd purchased for her, and pointed out the bedroom opposite hers, for Avery. Her eyes brightened as she realized what I was showing her. I explained my room was up the corridor, and I needed her to be dressed in the morning to accompany me to Nonna's funeral. She nodded, and I left her with instructions to head down for dinner when she was ready.
Then, because the thought of her so close by was playing havoc with my mind, I headed down to the gym in the basement and worked out for an hour.
When I returned from my work-out, I found the house silent. My housekeeper informed me that Elsa never came down for dinner.
I headed to her room with the intention of making her eat, but found her under the covers. I’ll admit, I stood over her and watched her sleep. Her pale skin, the shadows under her eyes, and her hair strewn over the pillow called to me. I sank down to my knees and pushed a strand of hair away from her cheek. She didn’t stir. I inhaled a lungful of her scent—cherries laced with a feminine scent that is uniquely her. If I stayed any longer, I would push her legs apart, kneel between her thighs, and bury myself inside of her. Which would be okay; she agreed to be my wife, after all. But I also want to be her Dom, which means putting her pleasures before mine. Which is why I walked away from her, then proceeded to jerk off to images of her in my mind, before skipping dinner and falling asleep.
When I headed down this morning, she was already in the kitchen, whipping up breakfast. We ate in silence, then headed over to the cemetery.
Now, I watch as the coffin with Nonna is prepared to slide into the family crypt. The sun shines down, reflecting off the polished surface of the wood. Elsa stands beside me. On the other side, Massimo stands at attention, Luca on his other side. Then Adrian, Christian and Aurora, Michael and Karma, and finally, Axel and Theresa. We form a semi-circle around the casket.
Axel and Christian seemed to be getting along better, especially after Christian made that trip to London to convince Axel to return to Palermo and woo back Theresa.
The priest begins to speak and his words wash over me. I glance around at the people from the community who have gathered. An old woman about the same age as Nonna sheds tears. She’s supported by another woman, younger than her, probably her daughter. There are other old-timers, friends of Nonna who grew up with her in this city where she lived all her life.
I spot a tall, broad-shouldered man standing to the side: Nikolai Solonik. And next to him is an older man with greying temples: JJ Kane. Our one-time rivals, now partners, all of whom have turned up to pay their respects to the matriarch of theCosa Nostra.
She should have survived that bullet; the old bat had seemed invincible. Spry enough to be independent and on her feet until the end. She had been such a staunch defender of the Mafia. In the end, it seems fitting that a bullet took her life. In a strange way, I think she would have liked that.
She led a full life. A largely happy life. Her presence was a towering force in all of our lives. And now she's gone. A pressure pushes behind my eyes as I watch the priest shut the Bible. There’s silence for a few seconds. The wind rustles the branches overhead.
Then Michael moves forward. He picks up a rose and stands with his head bent for a few seconds, then he places it on the casket.
He steps away, and I know it’s my turn next. As theCapo, I follow after the Don on these occasions. I try to put one foot in front of the other, but my arms and legs feel too numb. Until this moment, I didn’t realize just how much her death has affected me. She was a mother to us after our own mother died when we were young. She was our protector, our defender… Some might point out that she didn’t protect us completely from our father’s wrath, but she tried her best.
And even as she was dying, all she worried about was us. She wanted to see all of her grandsons married. It was her last wish. It’s something I'll ensure I fulfill as soon as I can. My eyes smart. I try to draw in a breath, but my lungs burn. I can’t take my gaze off of the dark doorway where my grandmother will be entombed. My arms and legs tremble, when a soft hand grips mine. Elsa twines her slim fingers with mine. She grips my palm, and warmth floods my veins. I draw in a breath, and oxygen fills my starved lungs.
"You okay?" she whispers.
I tear my gaze away from the casket and to her face. Those baby blues of hers hold mine. Her blond hair has been pulled away from her face and into a chignon. Her cheekbones stand out in her pale face. Her pink lips glisten, and I can’t stop staring at them. She’s real. She’s alive. She’s here. And she’s mine.Mine. Mine. Mine.
Even though she hasn’t said ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to my proposition of being her Dom. No matter. It’s not like I’m going to give her a choice in the matter. I only backed off because it didn’t seem prudent to push it. That, and the fact that she already agreed to move in with me. Baby steps. After driving her home and showing her to the guest room, I decided to give her some space and time to adjust to the changes. I was patient and stayed away from her last night. But now, I feel that resolve crumbling.
I move toward her, and her gaze widens. She shakes her head, tilts her head toward my grandmother’s open grave, then back at me.
