Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
"Sir?"
"Just tell me."
"Her name is Norah Bishop," he says. "She's, ah, an astrophysics student at Northwestern."
"You're fucking kidding me."
He shakes his head.
"Nico?" I ask.
He nods once.
I drain my glass.
"The universe is fucking with me," I mutter. There's no other explanation. God finally had enough of my bullshit. He's going to make me pay for every single one of my sins. Not one at a time, not little by little, but all at once. When I fall from my perch, he intends to leave a crater in my wake, a reminder for anyone who thinks to follow in my footsteps.
Fine. If he wants me to pay, I'll pay. But I'm doing it my way.
"Find her," I growl, dropping my glass on the table.
"Yes, sir."
"And Ricci? If you harm a single hair on her head, I will lose my goddamn mind," I say before stomping from the room.
Jesus Christ, fuck this whole day.
"Rafe?" Amalia whispers when I step out of the bathroom.
"Yeah, amore mio. It's me." My heart bleeds at the sight of her curled up in a ball in our bed. She looks so fucking small, so fragile. She's larger than life to me, a queen among women. It kills me that Carmine stole even a fraction of that confidence and fire from her.
I cross to her, sliding into the bed behind her.
She trembles in my arms like she's cold.
"Sono qui," I whisper in her ear, pulling her close.
"Is…is it done?"
I hesitate and then sigh. "It's done, tesoro."
"Is it wrong that I'm glad?"
I gently flip her onto her back, brushing her hair from her face. Faint light spills into the room from the bathroom, allowing me to see her. She's so beautiful. God. Even with tears staining her face, she's ravishing.
"You're allowed to feel relief that the man who hurt you is gone, Amalia," I say, my voice firm. "You're allowed to be glad that he's dead. You aren't a monster for being human, amore mio."
"Rafe," she whimpers, tears welling in her eyes.
"You're safe now." I run my thumbs beneath her eyes, brushing away her tears. And then I replace them with my lips, raining kisses across her face. "You're safe, Amalia."
"I was so scared," she whispers. "I k-knew if I l-let him get me out of t-the house, I'd d-d–"
"Shh, tesoro. Sono qui. He'll never get you out of this house. He'll never touch you. He'll never hurt you. No one will. You're mine to protect now. Sei la mia vita. Te amo," I whisper in Italian, and then in English. "You're my life. I love you, Amalia."
"Rafe," she sobs. "Te amo. Te amo. Te amo."
For twenty-seven years, shards of ice have caged my heart, growing out of control. The day I met her, they finally began to thaw. I felt my heart beat again. Her confession shatters every fragment of ice still clinging, obliterating it. My heart doesn't just beat. It pounds, thundering against my ribcage until I feel dizzy with life. With love, as if it alone fuels me, coursing through my veins.
"Amalia," I rasp, seeking her mouth with mine. I pour my soul into her, letting her mend and heal it, letting her claim it.
She does, snatching it back from hell with the sweetest battle cry. It's my name, whispered from her lips. She clings to me, pulling me closer, as if she intends to drown herself in me. I let her. When she rolls us, I let her do that too. I'm hers to command.
She straddles my hips, stretching eagerly toward my mouth. Her sweet center nestles against my cock. I want to be a gentleman and simply kiss her. But my dick is a bastard. He roars to life, reaching toward heaven. She's naked and he's desperate. Always so desperate when it comes to her.
She moans, grinding against me.
"Amalia, amore mio," I groan, planting my hands on her hips. "Not tonight. Not after today. You need time."
"I need you!" she cries. "Please, Rafe. Ho bisogno di te."
I don't deny her again. I can't. Whatever she needs, whatever she wants is hers.
"I'm yours, amore mio," I groan. "Take me."
She lifts up, notching me at her entrance. We cry out together when she sinks down on me, taking me to the hilt in one deep thrust. Ah, God. She's everything. Everything.
I drag her down to me, seaming our mouths together. She rolls her hips, taking me deep again and again. We get lost in one another. I get lost in her. Falling deeper, deeper.
Fuck, how did I ever live without her? How did I survive in a world without her light? Without her touch? I don't know. But I never will again. She's mine now, and I won't let her go. Not for Genovese. Not for Diego. Not for anyone.
"Rafe," she gasps, writhing on top of me as her orgasm begins to wash over her. "You f-feel s-so good."