Merciful Vows: A Bittersweet Second Chance Romantic Suspense (The Giannotti World Book 1)

by Vanessa Luisa

  Now it’s my turn to smile. “Yeah, you’re definitely drunk if you’re complimenting me.”

  And that’s how it goes. I assist her into the bathroom and slide closed the pocket door. I’m left holding my breath until I hear the water running. She’s safe.

  I can’t believe this happened.

  After this, Valencia needs to get some rest. In my bed. I’ll take the guest bedroom.

  Raking a hand through my hair, I play out the entire night in my head.

  I want her.

  All of her.

  I don’t expect myself to admit it, but something changed for me the day she told me she was scared that she wouldn’t be enough if the anti-depressants don’t help. The comment felt like somebody stabbed me in the heart and I finally saw Valencia’s depression in the same light as she did. I saw the pain in her eyes and the way her body trembled when I wrapped her in my arms. That’s why I sent her that book and wrote those words. I know it won’t solve everything, but it’s a step.

  It’s something.

  Something to remind her that I’m right here with her; I’m not going to run away. I’m not going to give up. No matter how hard some days will be—I will always be here for her.

  Valencia wants to push me away because she’s scared. She trusts hope because she fears the opposite…Addilyn being dead. She’s an artist. A creator. Somebody who always believes in silver linings. I’m the opposite. I give in to the most probable prospect because that is what my career relies on me to do.

  I realized something holding her moments ago. She thinks the anti-depressants will be her cure, and although they will help, from experience I know they won’t be enough. I want to be her cure, but I can’t. Ultimately, it’s Valencia herself. She needs to be her own cure. She needs to be the one to rise above. I know it’s easier said than done. I get it. That’s why I’m going to help her through it and will never let her go, especially not when she’s pushing me away.

  I need Valencia.

  Our children need Valencia.

  But most importantly, Valencia needs Valencia.

  My body freezes at a crashing sound beyond the door. “Valencia! Everything alright?”

  A few seconds pass with my heartbeat in my ears.

  “Yep. Just, walked into the stool step.”

  You mean step stool, darling. I knew this wasn’t a good idea. For her sake, I persist, however, the damn anticipation’s going to kill me. Wait…why is she even outside the shower when the water is still going?

  Give her a few minutes, Giannotti.

  She’s okay.

  She’ll call out if she needs anything.

  I haven’t checked on the kids in the past half hour. That is what the abduction has driven me to; checking on them over and over again. I check on them now, kissing their foreheads. I hope they never know the man I am when people hurt the ones I love, the man I was days after Addilyn’s disappearance, the man I was earlier at The Red Tavern.

  I was able to put myself together again for them.

  For Valencia and them.

  I have flaws. Deep lies I have kept hidden, even from Valencia. My only hope is that if I ever do choose to speak about it, it will be on my terms.

  Twenty minutes have passed now. I lean against the door, my fingers fanning out against the cream paint. “Valencia? You okay?”

  I get nothing and become concerned. The water is still running. I call out her name louder for a second time. Perhaps she didn’t hear me the first time. There’s still no response. I don’t wait a third time and slide the door open.

  Thank God.

  Valencia leans against the shower wall. Her hands press against the charcoal tiles, as if they are the only things holding her up. She hasn’t seen me enter, but her sobs deliver straight to my heart. I know they aren’t only for what happened with Bryce. It’s for Addilyn too. A selfish part of me wants to say they’re also because of us.

  It aches to witness her pain and agony unfold in front of me. If warmth and comfort are all I can provide tonight, hopefully it will be enough to settle her turmoil and the desperate pieces inside me.

  Her nakedness is on full display. Her light olive toned skin, those soft, ample breasts…It’s another first in a long time. I don’t gawk. I don’t take advantage. I keep my gaze on her face and unbutton my shirt. I shrug it off and keep going, stripping away every last piece of clothing.

  This can ruin everything.

  It can make it worse.

  Or it can change everything for the better.

  My mind is in shreds. I will never forget this moment for the rest of my life. Never. Not the way my arms wrap around her waist. Not how her body relaxes at my touch. And especially not how her heat transfixes me. It’s so fucking familiar—the feeling of her.

  Warm water trickles along my back, shielding Valencia from impact. We’re blanketed in steam. It’s some type of make believe. I make it reality and kiss her freckled shoulder. “Let it out. It’s okay to feel this way.”

  “I…” Valencia’s turns to face me. Her hair is darker, slicked back from the water. “I need you to hold me.”

  It takes a moment. A single second. A hitched breath. I pull her into the securest embrace of our lives. She clutches onto me tight, as I do her. The sweet nothings I murmur while rubbing her back in circular motions take me back. Water sprays in my eyes, but I don’t dare move.

  The softness in our voices has me yearning for her more.

  I kiss the side of her head and note her hair smells like me. “I’m not going to let go.”

  “I want her, Giulio. I want our baby back. Please.”

  It’s difficult to suppress my own pained tears when she cries out for Addilyn. In a perfect world, I would give Valencia everything. Anything she wants, I’d find a way for it to be hers again—ours again. In a perfect world, I would devour her against these very tiles for the way her naked body surges against mine with those stunning breasts making both my heart and cock feel. But this is no perfect world. One wrong step and our marriage will be further damaged.

  Even if we were to get back together, our differences are bound to set us apart again.

  “The twins. We need to—”

  I place her mind at ease. “Nobody is going to hurt us. I won’t allow it. I’m going to protect you. I’m going to protect Oscar and Slonne. Whatever it takes.”

  “What if one of us has to die to save our family?”

  It’s haunting. Eerie. I know exactly how she feels.

  We’re experiencing the same tragedy but in completely different worlds.

  My silence has Valencia looking up. Her hazel eyes are dim as water drips from her long lashes. With my free hand by her waist, I cave to the feeling of her fingers around my neck. I know they won’t stay there for long. It’s the hardest part. That’s why I cherish it the most I can now.

  “Please, don’t talk like that,” I whisper.

  “But what if it’s a part of the ‘whatever it takes?’”

  I know it’s not the alcohol speaking now. It’s her. And so I tell her the only thing I can vow. “Then I go down protecting our family. But it won’t be you. It will be me.”

  “I don’t want that. I don’t want anybody to die.”

  “It’s a wicked world out there. I’ll do what I have to.”

  “How can you be so sure it’ll be you, not me?”

  Some can’t guarantee it…

  “Darling, I just feel it.”

  But for her, I can.

  Valencia

  I wake to the distant smell of coffee brewing.

  The morning sun illuminates my vision as I turn over to glance at the bedside clock. 10:47 A.M. Oh no. My throbbing head is a reminder of last night.

  Bryce McCarson.

  The ugly crying.

  Giulio. Telling him to make love to me. Ugh!

  I groan and sit up to lean against the bedrest. When I lower the gray bamboo Lyocell sheets from my chest, I notice I’m wearing a dark oversize
d sweatshirt and navy pajama pants.

  They’re both his.

  One whiff of Giulio’s alluring aroma and flashes from last night resurface. Bryce’s advances and how Giulio rescued me. The following events become blurry until I focus and recall crying in the shower. I remember the concern laced in Giulio’s voice when he called out for me and I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. I was too numb.

  He called me darling.

  I remember the way he held me closely and how our naked bodies pressed together. I felt better after his comforting touch. Wordlessly, Giulio had dried my hair, carried me to the bed, and had helped me get dressed. When I slipped under the sheets, on the verge of falling asleep, I swear he kissed my forehead. I’m sure of it. But I missed what he whispered seconds before leaving.

  Ugh!

  This used to be our bedroom. Our house. Now, it is a reminder of everything I have lost.

  My marriage.

  My daughter.

  Myself.

  I hold onto the familiar vanilla smell of the sheets and how it transports me to the past. He still uses the same laundry detergent. Things like this shouldn’t get to me, but they do.

  A soft knock has me glancing towards the door. A smiling Giulio crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed. “Good morning.”

  “Morning.” I smile, flustered.

  He hands me ginger tea in a floral mug with the words; We love you Mommy! The sentimental mug is one he bought on the twins’ behalf for me one Mother’s Day. I guess I had forgotten to take everything to Helena’s.

  I do my best to not react and thank him for the two pills that follow. I down them quickly, for a second forgetting how to swallow at the sight of his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and the lush charcoal colored towel around his hips, framing his toned body and naturally lightly tanned skin.

  I never thought months without him…without this sight would affect me so deeply…boy, was I wrong. One glance at the sexy thin trail of trimmed dark hair that runs down the center of his defined V muscle and disappears beneath the towel has me taking an extra-long sip. Steam filters into my vision as my gaze hovers over the mug.

  So not obvious, Valencia.

  Fresh out of the shower, Giulio’s damp hair is tousled in that sexy kind of way I love. Handsome doesn’t even begin to describe him. Not in the slightest. He most likely went to the gym after dropping the kids off.

  The kids!

  I snap out of my trance and expect to meet his gaze…apparently, I wasn’t the only one checking somebody out. His slate eyes burn through my sweater and further flicker down to where the sheets begin at my waist. It takes a full minute for Giulio to realize I’m watching him too because he seems to stare at my lips for the longest time while I ponder what his mind could be brewing.

  It’s only when I take another gulp of ginger tea that he comes to and clears his throat.

  I guess we’re both just going to act as if our moment never happened.

  I set down my mug. “I’m sorry I put you in that situation with Bryce last night.”

  “There’s no need to apologize.”

  “For me, there is.”

  Giulio stands up, but it takes a full second for him to face me. Crossing his arms over his chest proves an error as my gaze involuntarily lowers to his biceps, abdominal muscles and then that v-line for the second time this morning. I stop myself from going any further. This is not healthy for either of us.

  Girl, you were pressed up against it last night.

  I mentally facepalm.

  “I stopped by Helena’s after taking the kids to school and picked up some clothes for you. They’re in the bathroom. It doesn’t mean work has to be in the equation today; that’s up to you. Your clothes from last night are at the cleaners and your car is at Helena’s.”

  I’m mortified. “I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

  “You don’t have to. I made breakfast for us. Come eat soon, okay?”

  “Okay. Thank you for everything.”

  Giulio flashes a warm smile before leaving, but his cologne lingers, clouding my every thought.

  I finish my tea and go to the bathroom to find a neatly folded pile of my clothes, just as he promised. I bypass my reflection. After all those tears last night, I know my eyes will not be their usual vibrant color. To be honest, they haven’t been since Addilyn was in my arms.

  I opt for another shower, seeing as last night’s wasn’t quite complete. Warmth streams down my body. The humid air and steamed glass doors are heavy indications that Giulio was in this same space not long ago. I used to love this sleek modern bathroom Giulio designed. It was unique and special; easily the favorite part of our house. Now I hate it. I despise the way the solitude of the room makes me feel so excluded, as if I’ve lost my place. How the gray step stool by the sink is a persistent reminder of my children. The way my heart anxiously beats at the memories of the infinite sex Giulio and I have had against these very tiles.

  I want it all to stop, but it never ends. Especially not the moment I’m forced to use his bodywash as it’s the only thing I have. Last night I went overboard with it. I lather the blue substance all over me and it reconfirms I’ve erased all of Bryce’s mouth-works.

  Being naked in front of Giulio last night did draw upon my vulnerabilities. I had a traumatizing labor with Addilyn. She was a breech baby. My cesarean scar is another reminder of what I’ve lost. When you bring life into the world, nothing compares to the connection between a mother and newborn. With Addilyn being stripped from me I have lost touch with what it means to be a woman. I disregard myself and never see my body as something worth praising like I’m sure other women do.

  Giulio never knew this and following her disappearance I didn’t want to be touched. I didn’t want him to see me because I didn’t love anything about myself without her with us. Last night our situation caused a physical reaction. We clung onto each other as if it was life or death. It felt different. A part of me wants to say a good different.

  My fingers grip the pressure changer, yet I’m incapable of switching it off when fingertips graze my hand. I gasp. Giulio’s hard chest presses against my back, his left hand working its way to my waist.

  “I’m sorry for everything I’ve done…”

  My breath deepens. “It’s okay.”

  “No. It’s not okay.”

  His touch runs up my body, leaving hot prints of his passion. “Giving up on us was the biggest mistake of my life. Being apart has been the worst decision of our life. I want you back.”

  “Giulio, I…” I want to say more but I am incapable of thinking straight. My head is spinning, and for the first time this morning, it’s not only because of the alcohol.

  “Set us free. I want you to set us free, Valencia.”

  My eyes open and I spin around to find nobody. Giulio isn’t in the bathroom. It was a fantasy. A hallucination.

  I gather the strength to shut off the shower. “Oh god.”

  I need to take my pills.

  My body is hot all over and I struggle to grip the black bra and underwear he picked out for me without clutching the countertop. Holy cow. It was only a vision. But it felt so real.

  I slip on the black cigarette pants with a thick belt and a tight gray top. Seattle weather dictates the revival of a coat, and placed neatly on top of the kid’s stool, is a nude pair of heels. I slip the rather comfortable outfit on, drying off my hair the best I can, and use a spare toothbrush. I have to go without makeup, despite my puffy eyes.

  Giulio glances over when I enter the sleek contemporary kitchen. He sets down the newspaper in one hand and lowers the espresso from his lips with the other. He’s standing on one side of the luminous marble island. Breakfast is presented perfectly on it. There is orange juice, neatly cut fruit, and my favorite: honey on toast. My anti-depressants also make a feature.

  Giulio Giannotti looks straight out of a GQ cover. The way he leans by the island, ankles locked and giving me his undivided attent
ion—my good god! His black hair is slicked back with one single strand fallen on the side of his face. The dapper look is complemented by its slightly messy element, reinforcing its alpha feel. Most importantly, he’s changed into a black turtleneck and elegant pinstriped charcoal slacks.

  He looks too good.

  Giulio gives a slow, sexy smile. It’s the first time in a while. “You look gorgeous, Valencia. I didn’t do a bad job with the outfit, hmm?”

  I bite my lip. “I’m afraid you’re right.”

  “Is that permission to add fashion stylist to my office door?”

  “Sure. Right under smartass in the making.”

  “Oh, really now?” A smirk crosses Giulio’s face. I like it when he’s happy. “Well, should I add your number as my referral?”

  “I’m afraid I would have to change my number then, Mr. Giannotti.”

  “Mmmm. Although I shouldn’t say it, I like your tactics.”

  “I’m glad you do.” My heart flutters at our playful banter. I set the mug on the island before it has the chance to slip from my sweaty grip. Sliding onto one of the steel kitchen stools, I take a bite of the toast. It’s pure heaven!

  “What are you going to do about this personal vendetta against my style eye?”

  I wave the toast. “This may have just bought you immunity.”

  Giulio chuckles and leans towards me. With his head resting on his hands, he’s teasing me and knows it. Those thoughts from the shower intensify the moment he arches a brow, only to sweep his tongue across his lower lip. “Only if you’ll give me a taste of that immunity.”

  “I respectfully decline.”

  “Request denied. What are you going to do about it now?”

  My cheeks heat. “I guess I’ll have to come up with something.”

  Giulio rounds the island slowly, positioning himself inches from me. Those irresistible eyes I once fell in love with enrich the temptation to forget the barriers between us.

  “You do that, Mrs. Giannotti.”

  Mrs. Giannotti.

  I set the toast down and reach for the napkin but Giulio beats me to it. He takes my sticky hand and draws it to his lips. My legs cross as our uninterrupted gaze never drops and Giulio’s warm tongue swirls over each finger, running across the tips and sucking off the honey. The highly erotic moment is drawn out by his meticulous motions.