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He laughed loudly, rolling onto his back on the bed. “No. I didn’t hit my head.”
“Then you have just completely lost your mind! In what universe do you and I end up together? In what universe do you see me saying I will stay with you and not return to my family?” I shouted, as his laughter simmered and he sat up, staring at me.
“So what… you just want to have hot, filthy sex and then go our separate ways? You think you can handle that, Princess? Fucking me every night and then waving goodbye when the time comes? Because if that’s your choice, then fine,” he said calmly as he scooted off the bed.
“For fuck’s sake Alessio! I don’t know! This is all so messed up!” I shouted, gripping my hair in my hands. He walked around to me and grabbed my hips in his hands, pulling me into him.
“I know. Which is why this is the only idea I have right now. Come to Greece with me and let’s ignore all this shit for a few days and see if there is something real between us. Something that we want to blow the whole fucking mafia world up for. We will probably end up wanting to kill each other and realise this was all a big mistake after the first day. But isn’t it better to know now?”
His hand weaved into my hair as he tilted my head up towards him, brushing his nose against mine. I closed my eyes as I felt the craziness that had consumed me a few seconds ago evaporate.
“And if it’s real? What then?” I whispered.
“Then we deal with it together. I'll find a way,” he replied, leaning down to capture my lips. My body melted into his as I wrapped my arms around his neck and surrendered to the indescribable feeling that took over every time we kissed. He broke away too soon and I was still in a lustful mist when he asked, “So, will you come?”
“You are really giving me a choice? What if I say no?” I smirked, batting my eyelashes at him.
“From now on, I will give you choices, Elle. If you don’t want to come, you can stay here with Fabi though it will drive me insane,” he groaned as I giggled.
“I do love a Greek salad,” I agreed and his face broke out into a gorgeous smile that made me swoon. He suddenly lifted me in his huge arms and threw me down on the bed like a ragdoll, before he climbed on top of me.
“Dio, you made me work for that!” he moaned as I squealed at his stubble against my neck.
“Aren’t you used to it by now?” I teased. He growled loudly mimicking a panther as I roared with laughter, trying to scramble away from him up the bed. I grabbed the enormous Ryan Gosling pillow to defend myself from him as I laughed, "Save me Ryan!"
Alessio grabbed the pillow and with insane strength ripped the material, the stuffing spilling out across the bedding as I gasped. My poor Ryan!
"That's how I feel about any man that tries to come between us!" he roared, pulling the towel away from my body and trapping me beneath his hard chest. That wasn’t the only thing that was hard again.
“Are you really too sore?” he curled an eyebrow up cheekily and I bit my lip, my arousal already growing between my legs. Even if I was, I didn’t care. I wanted more. “I’ll be gentle.”
“Can panthers be gentle?” I questioned with a smirk.
“Let’s find out, shall we?” he breathed as he slowly sunk into my pussy and I moaned at the feeling. Yes, please.
The ‘Sister’
Isabelle
“I still don’t understand why your papi wants you in the South,” Lorenzo sulked from his side of the car as we drove towards the airport. I refrained from rolling my eyes at his childish tone and instead, brushed my hand down his arm with a sweet smile. Ever the doting wife.
The truth was my papi hadn’t asked for me at all. I had insisted on coming home, declaring I felt unsafe in the North after the death of Riccardo. I had to do something to get home. Alessio had gone silent on me, not returning my calls and texts. I knew he was busy with plans for the North and that bitch, Elenora, was probably causing him stress, but I still hated the thought of him dealing with it all alone. I could make him feel better, if only he would let me help.
“My papi is dying, Renzo. Who knows how long I have left with him,” I replied and he scoffed.
“You hate your papi.”
I whipped my hand away and moved my gaze out of the window.
“I can’t believe you would say such a thing.”
Of course, I did hate Diego Barbieri. My hatred for that man ran so deep through my veins and to my bones that it is any wonder I feel anything else at all. He had never been a father to me. Not a good one anyway. From the moment he brought Alessio into our house, it was as if I no longer existed. Nor did my mamma. He had loved her at one time. They were happy. But the moment I was born, I was a disappointment to him. A girl. All he cared about was an heir. A boy of his own he could raise as a version of himself to continue the legacy of the Barbieri name. She had told me so the night she left. A flashback of that moment entered my mind.
I was seven years old when my mamma slipped into my room in the early hours of the morning. Perching on my bed, she gently roused me from my sleep as I blinked up at her and rubbed my eyes.
“Mamma? What’s wrong?” I remember the tears in her eyes and the mascara smudges. I remember thinking something was very wrong with her. I had never seen her cry. I had never seen her so unkempt. She was always perfectly put together like a doll. The trophy wife. Never a hair out of place or without that deep red lipstick. But that night she looked different. Scared. Mamma was never scared. She was strong, brave and feisty. She demanded respect from everyone around her, even my papi. But they had been fighting. A lot. Since he brought home the boy they called my brother.
“I have to go away, Belle.”
