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CHAPTER 1 – MARCO
“Baby, do you have toleave?” Serena whines, pulling me back into the bed.
She spreads her legs wide, and I nestle my bulk between her thick thighs and bury my face between her tits. My hand plasters against her heat, and I insert one finger inside her, smiling at her moans. Knowing she loves this, I insert two more, pumping into her heat at an erratic pace.
My teeth bite down on her nipple causing her to arch off the bed. “Marco! Mmm, it feels so good,” she moans.
When she’s finished, I sit back on the bed and suck her juices from my fingers before I wink and say, “Good night.”
“I thought you were staying?” she pouts.
“Serena, I told you I have to go home. I’ve got a wife,” I say as I climb off the bed and get dressed.
“AndIhave a husband,” she points out.
I smirk as I pull on my dress shirt. “A very rich, very old husband who only married you so he wouldn’t die alone. The poor bastard’s what...eighty?”
“He’s seventy-six, and he’s a sweetheart.”
“Yeah, but you and I don’t got the same fucking commitments. He knows he can’t get you off. He was never interested in that. You two don’t even fucking love each other. Hell, he gave you a free pass to fuck anybody you choose.”
“You love her?” she asks, sitting up in bed and pulling the covers up to her breasts.
“That’s beside the point.”
“No, it’s not, Marco. Do you love her?”
Shrugging, I sniff. “Always have. You know that. She was my friend before she was my wife. I will never forget that.”
“I don’t understand your marriage, Marco. You cheat, and she doesn’t care but you say you love each other. It makes no sense!” she rants before switching to Spanish.
Serena is half Italian and half Dominican. She was born in the Dominican Republic, moved to the States when she was ten, then to Italy with her mother at eighteen, and this is where she’s remained.
“Serena, I’m not fucking doing this with you tonight,” I snarl, grabbing my suit jacket off the back of the chair and heading for the front door.
“Marco! If it’s not your wife, it’s some other bitch! You don’t think I smell their cunt on you when you leave their house and come to me?”
I glance at her over my shoulder. “Why do you think I always shower when I get here? I shower before fucking you. After I fuck you, I’ll go home and shower again.”
“And what? Then fuck your wife?”
“Not your business.”
I make my way from the guest cottage where Serena lives to the front of my brother’s mansion where my car is parked and hop inside.
The last thing I want to do is argue with a bitch who doesn’t have my last name. I like Serena well enough, but I’ve told her one too many times that I don’t owe her an explanation.
If we have this conversation again, I’ll have to cut ties with her.
My mind goes over my upcoming trip to America. Father expects nothing from me. He has high expectations and standards for Alessandro, Massimo, Tony, and even Niccolò, but he expects nothing of me.
I sneer and open my window, spitting out of it at the thought of our fractured relationship. Alessandro has fallen into his good graces lately which isn’t easy. I think that has something to do with his wife, Mila, and their two children, Bianca and Aris. He’s proud of them. We all are.
He sees me as a failure for not giving him grandchildren before now to extend the empire built between the DeLucas and the Morettis, my wife’s family.
My mind turns over the news I received two days ago, and I know my father will be proud. Except I won’t live a lie, not again.
When I pull up to the mansion, I see that the downstairs and Graziella’s bedroom lights are still on. That means that she’s up and waiting for me. Although I told Serena that I had to get home to my wife, I hoped my wife would have fallen asleep by now.
