Her Mafioso King (The Vitucci Mafiosos Book 4)

by Terri Anne Browning

  She stared at me for a long moment, the wheels turning in her head, her chest heaving with her angry breaths. But then tears filled her eyes, and she dropped down tiredly into her chair at the dining table once more. I could see she was going to give me what I came for, but the look on her face was haunted.

  Tears spilling from her eyes, she looked at Dante. “I know you said I have to go to school. But this is going to take longer than I have time for. And I need to say it now before I change my mind.”

  He turned his gaze to Allegra, and after a brief, silent exchange between the two, he gave in with a single nod. “Okay, Jenny. Do what you need to do.”

  Jenny scrubbed at the few tears that had spilled over her lashes and boldly met my eyes once more. “She may never trust me again, but you’re right. She is still hurting—she probably always will unless someone helps her. And as much as I hate this, I know you’re the only one who can.”

  Chapter 21

  Anya

  After my private meltdown in the bathroom, I joined Ryan in my office where he was already busy coloring up a storm. I crouched down beside him, admiring his drawings for a moment before going to my desk and starting back on the work for the day.

  I felt both better and ultrasensitive after allowing myself to remember the most painful time in my life. When Ryan asked me if I liked his drawing of his Zia Scarlett and her family, including a larger-than-life Ciro with an almost perfect matching glower like the man normally wore, I was able to smile and praise him without forcing anything. But when he laid his head on my shoulder, watching what I was doing on the computer screen for a few minutes, I felt like my heart was going to break all over again.

  Stroking my fingers over his freshly trimmed locks, I kissed the top of his head and worked one-handedly until Ryan got bored and returned to his fort to draw a new picture, this one, he proclaimed, of Zia Victoria’s family.

  When it was close to the time we need to leave to make our lunch plans with Scarlett and the others, I shut down the computer and grabbed our things, locking up on our way out. As we walked to my car, an all too familiar SUV came to a screeching halt mere feet from my vehicle.

  I was ready to blast Rob for driving so recklessly with Ryan close by, but it wasn’t Rob who jumped out from the driver’s seat. Cristiano’s face was pale as death as he sprinted toward me. I frowned, unsure of what was going on with him, or why he was in such a hurry. But before I could ask what his problem was, he was grasping my face in both hands and kissing the breath right out of me.

  My damn willpower evaporated in a cloud of smoke, and I kissed him back without a single thought as to why I shouldn’t.

  Just as quickly as the kiss began, it ended, causing me to stumble back a few steps before he was righting me with his arms on my waist. “Cristiano, what—”

  “Shh, shh,” he soothed. “Just let me savor this for a second.” He pressed his forehead against mine, and it was only then that I realized he was shaking.

  “Did something happen? Is your father okay?” He shook his head, not answering me. “Tell me what is going on. You’re starting to worry me.”

  “I love you,” he breathed in a voice charged with emotion. “I love you so damn much, Anya.”

  “What does that have to do with what’s going on with you?” I demanded. “Seriously, tell me what’s going on, or I’m leaving.”

  “Papa, are you okay?” Ryan tugged on his father’s leg. “You look sick.”

  Cristiano clenched his eyes shut, and his throat worked for a moment before he opened them again and crouched down so he was at his son’s eye level. “I need to talk to Anya for a minute, figlio. Do you think you can give us some privacy?”

  “What does ‘privacy’ mean?” he asked, his nose scrunched up as he considered the word.

  “It means we need some alone time to talk about something very, very important.” Cristiano scooped the boy up and carried him to the SUV. Opening the back door, he placed Ryan in his booster seat and strapped him in himself. “I’m going to turn the music up, so you won’t have to hear us. Okay?”

  I didn’t hear Ryan’s answer, just stood there watching Cristiano sort out his son before returning to me. I didn’t have a clue what was going on with the man, but he was starting to worry me. Something had happened, I could sense it in him, but I had no idea what it was or how to help him.

  And God help me, I wanted to help him.

  Returning to me, he caught my right hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it even as he fell to his knees before me. Something squeezed painfully in my chest, and I was already trembling before he looked up at me with tears streaming down his face. “I’m sorry. So, so sorry, tesoro.”

  The pain in his voice, in his eyes, had me cupping his face, swiping at his tears with my thumb even as my own began to sting my eyes. His pain was my own, and I didn’t even know what was wrong. “Cristiano—”

  “I made Jenny tell me.” My entire body went cold, but I was helpless to push him away. Because now I understood his pain, and it mirrored my own. “I forced her to tell me everything. She didn’t want to, but she had no choice.”

  My first instinct was to turn and run, leave him there kneeling at my feet, let him drown in the tears and pain and the soul-consuming heartbreak. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t move, let alone walk away from him. My tears spilled over, running down my cheeks and falling onto his face, merging with the twin rivers flooding from his eyes.

  “If I’d known, I would have been with you. Every step of the way. You wouldn’t have been alone. I would have been there beside you, holding you.”

  “And your wife?” I choked out.

  “She would have been my ex-wife. Because if I’d seen you just one more time, I wouldn’t have been able to leave you again.” His grip on my fingers tightened, his eyes pleading with me to believe him.

  And for the first time, I did.

  There were no walls up, no smugness to hide behind. All I saw was his love and pain and how sorry he really was. My knees gave out, but he caught me in his arms, wrapping them around my waist. He pressed his face into my stomach, kissing it. “I’m so sorry,” he said again. “So fucking sorry, Annie.”

  Fingers trembling, I combed them through his hair, holding him in place. “I believe you,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I fought back a sob. “I…” I clenched my eyes closed and inhaled sharply. “I…forgive you.”

  His arms contracted around me, and I felt his sob before I heard it. “Baby…” His shoulders jerked and shook. “I love you so damn much.”

  The honking of someone’s horn followed by an expletive in the distance forced me to realize where we were. In the alley beside my club. Traffic was going by on both streets, and Ryan was sitting in the SUV, singing along to whatever music was thumping from the speakers, seemingly oblivious to the fact that his father and I were falling apart emotionally just a few yards away.

  Yet there was Cristiano, on his knees in front of me, crying for the loss of our baby, telling me how much he loved me. Anyone could have seen him like that, vulnerable and at my mercy. His enemies would have laughed at the sight, but it only melted the ice I’d been reinforcing around my heart where he was concerned.

  The thawing hurt nearly as much as putting up the icy wall had. It exposed me to all those emotions which had been frozen in place. They flooded out of my heart and into my chest, making it impossible to breathe for a moment. But I didn’t try to hold them back, didn’t try to refreeze them. I let myself—made myself—feel them all over again, this time with him to experience them with me.

  “I still love you, too.” My voice was hoarse, my throat raw. “I tried to stop. Fuck, I tried to stop so many times. But, God help me, I couldn’t.”

  He tilted his head back. “I know I’m being a selfish bastard, but I’m glad you couldn’t stop loving me. Christ, it was my biggest fear that you had.”

  I tried to shake his arms. “Get up now. If anyone sees you like this,
they will try to unseat you.”

  Scrubbing a hand over his wet face, he got to his feet, but his arms wrapped back around me as soon as he was upright. “I would stay on my knees forever for you, Annie. Only ever for you.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t want that. I’d rather you were on your feet, your back to mine as we took on the world.” A smile teased at my lips despite the tears still stinging my eyes. “Together.”

  His breath hissed out of him. “You mean that?”

  “It isn’t every day a mafioso king bows before me,” I told him. “While it might have been fun under other circumstances, I would much rather you stand and hold me.” Nodding my head toward the SUV, I spoke quietly, “Besides, I wouldn’t want Ryan to see his Papa like that.”

  He shrugged unconcernedly. “I don’t care who sees me. Ryan needs to know that there are times when a man has to bow to his woman.”

  “True.”

  “Come home with me,” he commanded. “We need to talk.”

  “I’m supposed to be meeting your sisters and cousin for lunch,” I reminded him.

  “Fuck them. This is more important.” He brushed his lips over mine, softly, enticingly. “Let’s go home, tesoro.”

  Chapter 22

  Cristiano

  Anya took Ryan to his room and made sure he found something to keep himself busy while I took a shower. The full blast of just how much I’d fucked up left me feeling dirty, covered in the sins I’ve committed against the woman I love.

  I never should have left her. My loyalty should have been with her back then, not with a mother who had been dead the majority of my life. Maybe if I had, Anya wouldn’t have lost our baby. Maybe it would have been Ryan, and he wouldn’t have the nightmares and trust issues Sheena had beaten into him. Maybe he would have a sibling who would drive him crazy, but whom he still loved as fiercely as I loved my sisters.

  Yet, despite the hell I’d put her through, she said she forgave me. I wasn’t sure how she could, not after everything I unknowingly made her suffer. But fuck, I was glad she did.

  I was so distracted by what happened earlier, I wasn’t even aware she was in the room until the shower door opened and she was wrapping her arms around my waist. A flashback of the last time we had shower sex made me shudder. I’d walked away after that shower. I’d turned my back on her, even though I still loved her. I’d left her to face losing our child alone.

  Gasping at the shot of pain that pierced my heart, I turned and pulled her into my arms. Bending, I kissed her lips. I took my time, putting all the sorrow, all the guilt, all the pain that was tearing me apart from the inside out into each brush of my lips against hers. Each caress an apology and a promise that I would never hurt her again.

  The kiss went on for several minutes, both of us lost not just in the physical caress of lips and tongues, but in the emotional charge that was filling the bathroom quicker than the steam from the shower. Fresh tears spilled from my eyes, mixing with the spray of hot water and being washed away with the misery of five long years without her.

  Soon kissing wasn’t enough, and she climbed my body, her hands combing through my hair, mine on her perfect ass. I moved her hips back, then pushed her down on my throbbing cock. I put my back against the shower wall, bracing myself so I wouldn’t fall while she worked herself up and down and I held on to her ass tightly, supporting most of her slight weight so neither of us would fall on the slick tile.

  Her pussy walls clenched around my shaft, letting me know she was close before her breathing changed. Her head dropped back on her shoulders, her mouth opening on a silent scream as she fell apart for me. I waited, loving this part the most. The look on her face, ecstasy written across every inch, her eyes clenched closed like she was trying to keep herself from imploding from the pleasure. Watching her come was almost as good as coming myself.

  When her trembling stopped and her lashes lifted to half-mast, I kissed her. This one wasn’t soft. Wasn’t tender. Wasn’t asking for forgiveness. It was demanding, taking instead of giving. My fingers flexed, digging deeper, bruising around her flesh as I turned us so that her back was against the wet, tiled wall. I thrust into her fast and fierce as we locked gazes. I didn’t try to hide what I was feeling. With her, I never tried to. I gave her everything, let her see every emotion that was burning through me as I pounded into her tight body.

  Her nails bit into my sides, her lashes fluttering closed as another release began to shake her body. “Cristiano,” she whimpered.

  “I love you,” I growled into her neck. “I love you so fucking much, Anya. Tell me you love me too.”

  “I do,” she moaned. “I love you.”

  Hearing those words, so breathy, so full of need for me, sent me over the edge. I locked my legs so we wouldn’t fall as my cock shuddered with each jet of come that filled her.

  For long minutes, we just stood there like that, my come dripping out of her onto the floor of the shower, the spray of the hot water keeping us warm. And our gazes locked as we savored the feeling of being one person.

  She tilted her head to the side, and I knew she was thinking about something. “What is it?” I asked, kissing her chin, then her lips.

  “All those times we had sex without protection, but it took a while before I got pregnant.” She sighed sadly. “We’ve had sex three times without protection now. Maybe it was just a one-off. I was never supposed to be able to get pregnant anyway.”

  “You told me that you were sterilized when you graduated from the academy.” I carefully unwrapped her legs from around my waist and helped her stand. She swayed for a second but quickly regained her balance. “Did you ask the doctor about that?”

  “The tubal ligation wasn’t effective on my left fallopian tube. It grew back together.” She touched a hand softly to her wet stomach. “What if…?”

  Grasping her chin, I tilted her head up so I could kiss her lips. “Ryan would love a brother or sister.”

  “What if it dies like our son did?” she whispered weakly, her eyes haunted by the past.

  I folded my arms around her, holding her, comforting us both. “We won’t let it.”

  Releasing her, I turned off the water and grabbed a towel. Wrapping her in it, I snagged another for me and helped her out of the shower. In the bedroom, I gave her one of my shirts and a pair of boxers so she didn’t have to put her clothes back on. We needed to get her things from her brother’s house because from now on, she was staying with me. I wasn’t spending another damn night without her.

  I tossed on a pair of sweats and sat on the bed, watching her dress. My shirt was so big on her it was like a dress. She tied a knot in the end of it, so that it was tighter around her thighs. In my clothes, with her hair soaking wet, she was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

  Clearing my throat, I tried to ignore the rising ache in my pants and pulled her so that she was standing between my legs. “We should talk.”

  “About?” She tilted her head stubbornly. “I don’t want to hear about your marriage. I don’t want to talk about the baby right now. The sex is still hot. I forgive you. We love each other. What is there to talk about?”

  I tapped her on the ass, then gave one perfect globe a squeeze. “How about when you plan on getting your things from Adrian’s and moving them in here? Or how about what date should we get married? Or—”

  “Wait, wait, wait. Hold up a second.” She lifted her hands, shaking her head. “The only place I plan on moving is back to my apartment when the contractor gets done with the remodeling. And marriage isn’t even close to where we are in this relationship.”

  “You don’t want to marry me?” Fear that she hadn’t completely forgiven me after all filled me, and I clutched at her hand.

  “I never gave it much thought. I don’t need marriage to be yours. I just need you to say you love me and be loyal only to me.”

  “What if I want you to marry me, though? What if I’m the one who needs it?”

  She cocked a brow. �
��Really? After your last marriage turned out so fabulously?”

  “It wasn’t marriage I disliked. It was who I was married to. If I married you, things would be different,” I vowed. “You would have my last name. My rings on your finger. You could even adopt Ryan if you wanted to.”

  “But…” She sighed heavily. “I’m not ready for that yet.”

  “Even adopting Ryan?”

  “I would sign papers tomorrow if that were possible. I love that boy just as much as I love you. But I don’t want to rush into marriage. We still haven’t gotten this whole relationship thing sorted out.” She cupped my jaw, her thumb rubbing over my chin. “I love you, and yes, I forgive you. But marriage isn’t on the table right now.”

  “But it’s not off the table either, right?”

  A smile tilted up her luscious lips. “Ask me again in a year or two. And I mean, actually ask me. We can revisit the subject then.”

  “That’s a lifetime from now,” I grumbled.

  “Does that mean you won’t wait for me?”

  I wrapped my arms around her, anchoring her in place. “Fuck no. It just means I’m selfish and impatient. I’m used to getting what I want exactly when I want it.”

  “I hadn’t noticed that about you.” She rolled her eyes, and I laughed.

  “Okay, so the subject of marriage is locked away for now. But I want you to move in with me.” She started to argue, but I went on before she could say anything. “Ryan and I both want you here. Day and night. Sleeping under the same roof. In my bed. Cuddling with my son. Eating meals together. Like a family, because that is exactly what we are.”

  “Once Iron Hand reopens, I’m going to be out late every night. It doesn’t make sense—”

  I pressed my thumb to her lips, stopping the flow of her words. “I don’t care when you come home as long as when you do, you climb into bed with me.”