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I carry her back to the house, through the living room, past her mother sitting on the couch, heading straight to her bedroom. I kick the door closed and set Sukie on her feet. I rummage through her dresser drawers and pull out a pair of sweats and an oversized shirt. I walk back to Sukie.
“Arms up.”
I wait for her to comply, peel the wet dress over her head, and remove her bra before kneeling and slipping off her panties. Retrieving the dry clothes, I help my woman get dressed, then lead her to the edge of the bed. Sukie sits, her fingers nervously tapping against her lap.
“You should change into something else before you catch a cold yourself.”
“I’m fine.”
Sukie crosses her arms. “Luca.”
This time, I’m the one who doesn’t argue. I shrug off my wet cut, kicking off my boots and removing my damp clothing. I stroll over to where a basket of my clean clothes sits and step into some dry jeans. I sit beside her, the mattress dipping beneath my weight.
We sit like this, facing forward for several minutes, letting the silence hang between us before I begin.
“I’ve known Bianca my entire life. We grew up together. We were expected to marry and merge our families one day.”
“An arranged marriage?”
“Yes. The arranged marriage wasn’t a death sentence because we fell in love. Marrying each other was no longer an obligation. It was something we looked forward to.”
My mouth turns dry, and it becomes hard for the words to pass my lips. Sukie takes my hand, and I close my eyes, rooting myself in her touch.
“Hours after sayingI do, Bianca disappeared, so I looked for her.”I fucking found her, all right. “I found Bianca bent over my father’s desk while he was fuckin’ her.”
Sukie gasps. “Your father?” Her voice is filled with shock.
“I walked out that day, turning my back on the DeSantis name, and never looked back.” I take a deep breath and contemplate whether she needs to hear more.
“Luca.” Sukie touches my face. “Look at me,” she whispers, and I turn my face to her. “You can trust me.”
I decide to lay it all out in the open. “Bianca is here because my father sent her.”
“Why would he do that? Jesus, haven’t they hurt you enough?”
“It’s what my father does, babe. He found me and is fuckin’ with my life because he wants something.”
Sukie scrunches her face, confused. “I don’t understand. What does he want?”
“Me.”
“I still don’t understand.” Sukie stares at me.
“I’m Luca DeSantis, son of Alessandro DeSantis, and the heir of one of New York’s biggest crime families.”
I watch as Sukie processes my words, fearing it may be too much for her to handle, hanging on by a thread as silence dangles between us.
“Are you thinking about it?”
“What?”
“Going back.”
“My life, my home, everything I want is here, in Salem, with you,” I confess. “Nothing will stand in the way of us, baby.” I place her palm against my chest, right over my heart. “You feel that?” I stare into her eyes. “It beats for you. My life is yours. You own me.”
Sukie throws herself into me, and I cover her mouth with mine. At this moment, nothing else matters but the connection between us. As our lips part, I keep Sukie in my arms.
“Do you mind just holding me for a while?” She stares up at me.
