Becoming her Salvation (Zanetti Famiglia Book 7)

by Hayley Faiman

  I let her do her thing though, mainly because I’ve probably already semi-insulted her enough. I need to cool it down and just smile through her planning. Besides, at the casino, it can’t get too wild and the great news is nobody but famiglia will be there.

  Salvatore appears just as Luciana is asking me my favorite cake flavor. She has her phone in her hand and she’s been jotting down notes for at least the last thirty minutes, if not longer.

  “Millefoglie,” Salvatore grunts.

  “She can’t have millefoglie as her wedding cake,” Luciana says, lifting her hand to shoo him away.

  They stare at one another for a long moment, a complete and total stare down and I’m a little afraid to get in the middle of it. Flicking my gaze back and forth, I wait for one of them to crack, to break, to speak, but they don’t.

  Clearing my throat, I lean forward. “I like millefoglie,” I murmur, turning my head to look at Luciana.

  Thinking about the sweet treat, it’s been far too long since I’ve enjoyed it. I have to keep from drooling at the thought of the pastry layers filled with custard and fresh fruit. Yum. Salvatore chuckles and I know he’s probably going to give his two cents on the filling and fruit, but I don’t let him.

  “Lemon curd with fresh raspberries,” I blurt out.

  “Not pastry cream? Chocolate?” Luciana asks.

  Shaking my head, I don’t look over to Salvatore as I confirm with her, too afraid that he won’t approve, but it sounds so good, I don’t know if I’ll even be able to wait until the reception to eat some.

  “Lemon curd,” I confirm.

  Luciana arches a brow, then smiles. “Okay,” she says as she goes back to her phone. “It’s all set then, I’ll get with Gavino on the dates. Sometimes they have… events there.”

  Standing, I thank her for the afternoon, she thanks me for coming and we part ways, his hand pressing against my lower back as we walk out of their home. Once we’re in front of the passenger seat of the car, I stop and turn to him.

  “Do you like lemon curd?” I finally ask, tipping my head back to look into his eyes.

  “Even if I didn’t, would it matter?” he asks, his lips twitching into a smile.

  I shrug a shoulder. “It might. I could go back inside and tell her to change it.”

  Salvatore laughs as he lifts his hand, wrapping his fingers around the back of my neck firmly. His eyes focus on mine. He dips his head slightly so that he’s just a few inches from me.

  “Lemon curd is my favorite, bambola. It will taste delicious, but not as delicious as you taste.”

  “Salvatore,” I breathe.

  He touches his lips to mine in a hard, swift kiss. Then he releases me, taking a step backward, and opens the car door for me.

  Slipping into the front seat, I lift my hand to my lips and touch them. They’re warm and they tingle, other parts of me tingle when I think about his mouth against them again—tasting me.

  SALVATORE

  Fuck.

  I had almost forgotten about Miguel Fuckface, and I knew my night with Rosana was too good to be true. I knew it and yet I consummated and enjoyed the fuck out of it just to be slapped in the face with reality once again.

  Miguel and his family are playing with us and they’re doing it in a way that Gavino is not very happy with. They’re playing with his income, with his finances.

  “Salvatore?” Rosana asks, her voice soft as it fills the cab of the car.

  Clearing my throat, I try to shake off the thoughts of Miguel, Juarez, and the whole Libertad group. It doesn’t matter though.

  There is no shaking anything off, not with the meeting I’ve just had with Vino. Those fucks are messing with us and they don’t seem to be in a hurry to stop anytime soon.

  “Just thinking, Rosana,” I murmur as I drive toward home.

  “What are you doing tomorrow? I found a couple cooking classes online, I was thinking of signing up for them,” she explains.

  “Work. I need to work tomorrow, I’ll probably be late again, though I doubt I’ll come home trashed,” I say.

  She doesn’t say anything right away, instead, I feel her gaze on me. Turning to the side, I give her a smile before I shift back to watch the road as I drive.

  “I just…” she begins. Instead of asking, I let her think of whatever it is she wants to say, then just wait for her to continue. “I want to make sure everything is okay. You seem really distracted since the meeting with Gavino.”

  I smile, reaching across the car and wrapping my fingers around her thigh, just above her knee. I don’t tell her what I’m consumed thinking about. She doesn’t need to know.

  In fact, the less she knows about all this shit, the better. My goal is to have this fuck taken care of, and then I’ll tell her that it’s done.

  “It’s just business, bambola, nothing more.”

  Wordlessly, I drive home. When we arrive back in the condo, I kiss Rosana’s cheek and tell her that I need to work for a few hours. Leaving her alone, I arm the cameras in the house so I can see where she is and what she’s doing while I’m working.

  Sinking down in my office chair, I let my head fall back and I take in a deep breath before I get started. Powering on my computer, I search.

  My true job, though I usually use Kimberly for that now, is research. I thrive on it, and for Gavino, I would research just about anything, including Miguel and his father Juarez.

  It doesn’t take me long to find Miguel on social media. Though his shit is locked down pretty tight, I remember what he looked like from the café, and to see his smug smirk looking back at me through a computer screen, it makes me want to throw my monitor out the window and smash it into a million pieces.

  Miguel’s father has somehow hacked into Gavino’s offshore accounts, a place where he knows Vino cannot go to the authorities, and he’s been skimming off his interest. It isn’t much, so far. No doubt he’s testing the waters.

  Gavino has been watching it for the past week, knowing exactly who it is, having his IT guy trace it back to Juarez himself. My duty, assigned by Gavino, is to gather as much personal information about the two as I can.

  His tech can quickly get a bunch of info, but Gavino wants the personal shit, and he wants it fast. He wants to know things like, did they have juvenile records and if they did, what for. These are things that are typically sealed and I should not be able to get ahold of them.

  Sealed and should not, are subjective. I’m an attorney, everything is subjective.

  It doesn’t take me long to find out where the sealed records are located and I smile, mainly because I used to fuck a clerk in that office. A clerk that I know for a fact thought very highly of me.

  Picking up my phone, I call down to the office. As soon as the receptionist answers, I ask for Vanessa. Hopefully, she’ll give me what I want and the cost won’t be too high.

  “Vanessa,” I call out softly when she answers.

  I hear the hitch in her breath before she speaks. “Salvatore.”

  “It’s been a while, bella,” I say.

  “It has.”

  “I wondered if I could ask a favor?”

  There is a moment of silence, then I hear her voice purr. “Only if that favor includes dinner and more.”

  Fuck.

  I didn’t want to go there, not with her, but I need that information. Closing my eyes, I clear my throat.

  “Tomorrow night, I’ll pick you up at work.”

  “I’ll be waiting,” she breathes right before I hang up the phone.

  Pinching my eyes closed, I wonder how the fuck I’m going to get through a date without fucking her at the end and still get the information that I need. I don’t think it’s possible, it’s as simple as that. I can only think of one way to get the information that I need and that doesn’t pair well with my marriage.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ROSANA

  Salvatore spent far too long in his office last night and I was asleep by the time he made it t
o bed. Lying in bed, my eyes closed, I inhale a deep breath before I let it out on a long exhale, trying not to wake Salvatore up. At least not yet.

  Rolling over, I open my eyes and watch him for a moment. He’s asleep. His lips parted slightly as he breathes. He’s beautiful, his facial hair a little too long, not quite a beard but not clean-shaven either.

  Sitting up slightly, I lean over and touch my lips to his chest, circling my tongue around his nipple. He moans but doesn’t make a move to touch me or stir otherwise. Slowly, I kiss down his chest, moving the sheet away from his hips when I do.

  He’s naked.

  No underwear—nothing.

  Grinning at the sight of his hard length, I look up at him through my lashes before I open my mouth and circle the head of his dick with my tongue. Still, he doesn’t move. I don’t know if he’s awake and just obliging my explorations or not, but I don’t question anything.

  I taste, I lick, I suck.

  When I’m on my second downstroke, that’s when Salvatore buries his fingers in my hair. Lifting my gaze to his, he’s watching me, his chin tipped down and his eyes dark with what I can only describe as desire.

  I expect him to move my head in the rhythm that he wants, but he doesn’t. I set the pace, and it stays that way. I continue to taste, to suck, and lick every inch of his rock-hard length, moaning around him as I feel him swell.

  Only when I can tell that he must be close does he tug my head away. “Up here,” he demands.

  Not wasting a second, I peel my night clothes off, throwing them across the room as I scramble up his body and straddle his hips.

  Sliding myself against his length, wet from my saliva, I moan. His hands grab ahold of my hips and I think that he’s going to adjust me, to pull me down along his length so that I can take him inside of me, but he doesn’t.

  “Make yourself come just like that,” he demands.

  Opening my eyes, I stare at him in complete shock. He grins. “Just like this,” he murmurs as he adjusts my hips, moving me forward and backward.

  I do what he wants, partly because it’s hot as shit the way he is looking at me right now, but mainly because it feels amazing.

  Closing my eyes, my head falls back between my shoulders as I move my hands against his chest, my nails digging into his flesh. I hear him hiss below me, but I don’t care. I’m feeling, I’m taking and I’m enjoying every second of this.

  My hips roll, they buck and they jerk over and over until I feel that familiar sensation that I’ve only experienced a few times. It’s coming. I’m on the edge, so close to going over that I can’t even breathe, it’s so intense.

  Then it happens.

  It happens, and I come.

  My entire body freezes, my muscles tense, and I let out a moan as the sensations take over my entire being. It’s hard and long, so long that it’s almost as if time stands still. That is, until Salvatore flips me onto my back before burying himself deep inside of me.

  I open my eyes on a gasp and look into his own grinning face. He doesn’t move immediately, he’s focused on me, his gaze never moving from mine as he just stays buried inside of me to the root and watches me.

  “Salvatore?” I ask when he doesn’t do or say anything immediately.

  He touches his lips to mine. “Best way to wake up, ever, bambola. The best,” he murmurs against my lips. “Just relishing in the moment, in the feel of you.”

  If I could melt, I just might. I don’t though. He doesn’t give me the chance. Instead, he pulls almost completely out of me, then slams back inside.

  He fucks me.

  His mouth against mine, his hips move hard and fast, thrusting and slamming against me and I didn’t know this could feel this amazing.

  I don’t come a second time, but I don’t need to. I am completely and totally satisfied. This just makes me feel even more so.

  Salvatore chases his orgasm, burying himself deep inside of me, and then he kisses me. It’s long and hard, wet and deep—it’s perfect. I would have to say, even though I’m the one who woke him up, I might think that this was also a great way to start the day as well.

  His teeth catch my bottom lip and he nibbles on my flesh before he kisses down my throat, stopping just at the hollow. Wrapping my arms and legs around him, I wish that I could hold him to me, keep him right here, maybe even forever.

  “I need to get to the office,” he murmurs against my neck.

  “Do you?” I ask.

  He groans, then clears his throat as he moves away from me. I sigh at the feeling of him leaving my body and roll to my side to watch him as he stands from the bed. His back is to me and he takes one step, then another, before he stops and looks back.

  I expect to see him smiling at me, if nothing else, maybe his eyes, but he doesn’t. He watches me for a silent moment, then something clouds his gaze and he frowns.

  “I won’t be home early tonight, you’ll be okay with Valerius?”

  “But you won’t be coming home drunk again?” I ask.

  He snorts, his gaze focused and connected to my own. “I’ll try not to.”

  “Can you tell me why you have to be gone again tonight?”

  Salvatore only clears his throat, he doesn’t say anything. He watches me and I wait for him to say something—anything, but he doesn’t. My stomach dips and my heart aches a little that he’s being so evasive, downright secretive really.

  “Salvi?” I call out.

  His body jerks and he nods his head once. “Business, bambola, nothing else.”

  I don’t know all of his tells, but I’m not stupid enough to be fooled—that was a lie. At least partially. Just the way he’s acting, it lets me know that it is. Licking my lips, I think about calling him on it, but I decide against it.

  I may not be a traditional mafia wife, but I am still very much a mafia wife and Salvatore isn’t a Street Boss, or a Capo, but he is still a Made Man. So, instead of calling him on his life, instead of demanding a real answer, I nod my head once.

  “Okay, Salvi. I’ll miss you. I have that cooking class today, the first one.”

  His shoulders relax slightly. Obviously, he had some tension, but I don’t call him on that either. Smiling, I clear my throat and wait for him to speak.

  He doesn’t disappoint.

  He closes the distance between us, sinking a knee into the bed next to my hip. He reaches out, cupping my cheek with his warm hand. Then he leans down and touches his lips to mine.

  “I look forward to tasting all of your treats, Rosana.”

  My entire body breaks out in goose bumps. I want that. I need him to simply taste anything and everything of mine—food or otherwise.

  SALVATORE

  Leaving Valerius home with Rosana today was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and I know that it is simply because of the dinner I need to have tonight.

  I don’t want to see Vanessa, let alone have dinner with her or anything else, but we need those sealed files. We need everything that we can get on these fucks.

  Maci is standing at the filing cabinet when I arrive at the office, but I don’t even really notice her. She calls out my name, but my focus is on Rosana and getting to my desk, nothing else. Sinking down into my seat, I power on my computer and pinch my eyes closed.

  “So I guess you’re avoiding me. Why?” Maci asks after I’ve only taken a few breaths.

  Opening one eye, I see her standing across from me, her arms crossed and her gaze narrowed. Letting out a sigh, I open my other eye and connect my eyes to hers.

  Arching a brow, I wait to see if she has anything else to say. She looks like she’s got a whole fucking mouthful to spew at me, though I don’t blame her. I did go off and get married, and I have been very, very absent.

  Flicking my gaze down to her growing belly, I grin. “Soon, right?” I ask.

  “That’s not why I’m in here,” she snaps.

  My eyes widen at her obvious annoyance. “What is it, Maci?” I ask, completely confused by h
er actions.

  “You had a call this morning. A Vanessa said she would meet you at, and I quote, your favorite place to eat.”

  Fuck.

  Clearing my throat, I wonder why Vanessa doesn’t want me to pick her up at work, although it’s actually better for me this way, so I don’t mull it over too much. Instead, I watch her for a long moment, trying to figure out just how I’m going to approach this.

  “Mia told you about being a wife, yes?” I ask. Maci’s brows snap together immediately and her lips part, but I don’t give her the chance to speak. “This is one of those scenarios where what I’m doing doesn’t exist to you or to Rosana.”

  “Salvatore, not you,” she whispers, taking a step toward me. “You saved me. You’re a nice guy, not you,” she breathes.

  My eyes do not move from hers, I keep them focused and connected as I watch her for a moment. She doesn’t say anything, but I can see the pure disappointment on her face. Then she nods her head as if she’s made some kind of self-resolution.

  “I am made, Maci. No matter how nice you think I am.”

  “Okay, Salvatore. I just, I thought you were different.”

  Clearing my throat, I shake my head once. “We’re all the same, bella. We’re Made Men.”

  “That’s a crappy excuse,” she exhales.

  “Yeah, it is.”

  And it is just that, crappy as fuck. But that’s all I have right now for her. Maybe later I can have something else, but at this moment, I don’t have anything else. I know what I need to do and that is Vanessa.

  Maci leaves my office without saying anything else. I can practically taste her disappointment. It’s there, filling the room, and it consumes me. Although it’s not just her disappointment in me, it’s also my own in myself.

  I don’t want to fuck Vanessa. I don’t want anyone but my wife. Sometimes we don’t get exactly what we want and this is one of those moments. The rest of the day my mind is completely consumed, completely occupied by what is going to have to happen this evening.