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I give Rafe the full tour of the home I grew up in. It is nothing near as impressive as the Gallo estate but I loved living here until my uncle darkened our door. Even though I have some less-than-stellar memories of the handful of years I lived under his thumb, I do still remember the times with my parents fondly. There is a lot more good than bad when it comes to the Hernandez estate.
I show him the library, the kitchen, the rooms upstairs, and my office. He takes it all in stride, asking questions about whether I will redecorate or if I even want to keep the house.
“Of course I want to keep the house,” I reply in shock. “It’s not the building that hurt me. It was the people within and they’re gone now.”
“That makes sense,” he replies, looking around the dining room. “Does Roman feel the same?”
“You know just as much as I do about how Roman feels.”
My heart hurts at the thought of my younger brother. I hate that I have been unable to protect him from all the horrible things that have happened to our family. That he is still being used as a pawn in a game he has no fucking idea how to play.
My mind drifts to Devon and I know I must do better. The bad things that happen may scar us but they also have the power to build us up and make us stronger. I just need to find a way to get Roman to see things the way I do.
“Is that the entire tour?” Rafe asks, drawing me out of my own mind.
“Well, you’ve seen the outside of the house and the backyard.” I glare playfully, referencing his last visit. “And I doubt you want to go back into…”
My words drift off but he knows exactly what I am talking about.
“The chapel,” he murmurs.
I have mixed feelings about that part of the estate. It’s where I married Rafe and for better or worse I love him. It’s also where I killed Sebastian and reclaimed my family for Roman and for myself.
But it is where Armand died and just thinking about him being put down like a dog has a lump rising in my throat, the pain still fresh. I may not have known him for years but the old man had wormed his way into my heart and I often missed him.
“I haven’t decided what to do with it yet,” I say, shifting from foot to foot. “It’s been in our family for generations. There have been weddings and christenings in there. But so much has been tainted by blood and pain. Maybe I should just close it up.”
Rafe tilts his head to the side, assessing me with his sharp gaze.
“The first time I stepped foot in that chapel was the day I married you,” he says, echoing my earlier thoughts. “Do you know what my first thought was when I realized who you were?”
“What is she doing here?”
He chuckles. “Well, yes. My second thought, then?” At the shake of my head he continues, “I remember thinking the fucking priest needed to hurry up before I fucked you on the pulpit for everyone to see.”
Heat suffuses my face. It’s like my pussy is voice activated. I would be ashamed about the dirty thoughts that roll through my mind or the way I constantly want my husband to use and abuse my body for his pleasure and mine, but I fucking love it.
And he does too.
Grabbing my hand he drags me along the corridor until we reach the adjoining building with the heavy oak doors that bar us entry to the chapel.
“I think we should fix it up,” he says cupping my face. “And I think we should make new memories here.” He kisses my lips gently.
“Rafe…” I say his name but he drags me inside, not letting me finish my thought.
“Our children will be both Gallo and Hernandez. This is their heritage whether we like it or not,” he explains. He takes the four short steps onto the dais, and pulls me behind him. “I want our children to be baptized here too. Like their mother, uncle, and their forefathers.”
A flutter erupts in my stomach. We’ve never spoken about children. I wasn’t sure it was something either of us wanted. Watching him now, seeing him like this, I can’t think of anything else. He may not be the best man in the world—we all have our faults—but I can’t see Rafe being anything but a good father.
Turning into his body I take his wrist in my hand, guiding it between my legs. The flowy purple dress I am wearing allows him easy access. His fingers lift the material until he connects with the lace covering my sex. We stare deeply into each other’s eyes, silently communicating.
“Let’s start over,” he whispers. “We can forget everything that happened before this moment and treat each other right. Let me be the man you need.”
His fingers stroke back and forth across the already dampening material, not to manipulate me but because he can’t help it.
“What does that mean, Rafe?” I ask softly.
“It means I love you. It means living without you for ten fucking days was the worst torture in my life. I want to do this right. Give you the wedding of your dreams and then fuck my baby into your womb. I want us to build this empire together. Gallo and Hernandez, side by side.”
