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She’s fast asleep. That’s something she’s been able to do the past few weeks. She’s able to fall back to sleep after a nightmare. None were as awful as tonight’s. I was woken up by the sound of her gagging and retching. She was thrashing around in her sleep, trying to fight someone off her. Now I know that it was more than one person. Christ… How the fuck did she manage to survive what those animals did to her?
She views herself as weak and dirty? She has no idea just how fucking strong she is. She blows my mind every day with how she manages to hold herself. With all the shit she’s been through—including what they and I put her through—no one would blame her if she was bedbound, trying to get through the memories and pain each day. But she fights daily to get up, and I’m so fucking proud of her, of how far she’s come.
She deserves a fuck of a lot better than me, but I’m a selfish bastard, so I’m not letting her go. I’ll kill anyone who tries to take her from me.
As she sleeps in my arms, I think of our marriage and how little I have cherished her. I start forming a plan in my mind. Tomorrow, we’re going on a date.
* * *
I watchas she walks toward me, a beautiful smile on her lips that reaches her eyes, her hair twisted into some sort of up-do with some tendrils framing her face. Her plump lips are a deep burgundy color, her nails painted the same, and she’s wearing a black dress that hugs her curves and showcases her phenomenal body. Every step she takes, I can see the slit on the right side of her dress. It stops just below her hip. Thankfully, you can’t see anything except for her creamy thigh.
“Sei bellissima, mia amata. Assolutamente stupenda,” I say thickly.(You look beautiful, my beloved. Absolutely stunning)
Her smile widens. “I don’t know what you said,” she replies softly as she steps up to me, “but it sounded amazing.”
“I said you look beautiful, baby.” I slide my hands around her waist and pull her into my body.
She glances up at me, those gorgeous gray eyes of hers bright with happiness. “Thank you. You look handsome.”
I take a chance by leaning down and pressing a kiss against her lips. She doesn’t stiffen in my arms. In fact, she pushes closer against me and kisses me back. It’s chaste but a fucking step forward. Christ. I’m rock hard.
“Ready?” I ask.
She brushes her thumb against my lips. “Yes,” she says. “You’ve got lipstick on you.” She swipes at my lips once more. “There, all better.”
“Baby, having your mark on me is sexy as hell. You can leave it there anytime.”
Her eyes widen as heat rises through her cheeks. “Let’s go,” she says. “I’ve never been on a date before. I’m excited.”
I take her hand and lead her toward the door. “You’ll have fun,” I promise her. “We’re going to have dinner at our restaurant.”
She blinks. “You have a restaurant?”
I chuckle at her cuteness. “Yes,mia amata, we have. We have a reservation.”
She looks adorably confused as we exit the house. “You have to make a reservation at your own restaurant? Surely being the boss gives you the perk of going whenever you want.”
“That may be so,mia amata, but it’s the busiest restaurant in the city. I do not want to be waiting to be seated. So I’ve reserved a table.”
She leans into me as we walk toward the car. Lorenzo’s waiting for us, a smile on his lips as he sees how close she is to me.
The men weren’t let in on what happened but the scar on her wrist isn’t exactly subtle. They’ll have an idea, and with us staying in Chicago, there’s been talk. Lorenzo is a man who won’t ask. He’ll watch and come to his own conclusion. “Boss, Mrs. Gallo,” he greets as he opens the door for us.
Teagan slides into the car. “Boss,” he says low, so that only I can hear him, “Niccolò made contact with Dario.”
My brows knit together. “How do you know that?”
He glances into the car and back at me. “He stopped by here, got the call, then raced off again to go see the Capo. From what I got from the call, Niccolò’s connected with his contact.”
Ah, he’s letting me know to expect a call sometime soon. “Thanks. Let’s go.”
Niccolò has been working tirelessly over the past three months to get close to his contact within the ranks of the Bratva. Since the shit went down with the last Pakhan, they closed ranks and are extremely reluctant to even speak with outsiders. Knowing that Niccolò is now finally speaking with his contact gives us a little hope.
Climbing into the car, I glance at Teagan and see that she’s tracing along her scar. It’s something she does when she’s nervous. I settle into the seat and reach for her hand. She’s gotten better about me touching her. She’s more receptive to it. But only with me. Anyone else gets close and she’s stiff as a board and backs away.
My cell buzzes, and I know instantly that it’s Rocco. Keeping a hold of Teagan’s hand, I pull out my cell with the other and read the message.
Rocco: Nic has spoken with his friend. He’s close now. Will call whenever he has more.
