by Cora Reilly
“Is that so? I control hundreds of men and an entire city, but you think I can’t control you?” I stepped closer, backing Giulia into the wall.
“Stop intimidating me,” she said, trying to step past me. I thrust my arm out, bracing my palm against the wall beside her head, caging her in.
“You will obey me.”
She regarded my arm then looked up. She stepped closer until we were almost touching, throwing me off.
“What will you do if I don’t obey?”
That goddamn strawberry scent filled my nose. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I jerked her toward me and lowered my head for a harsh kiss. She stiffened in my hold, gasped into my mouth. What the fuck was I doing?
I froze, caught off guard by his sudden closeness. How could he kiss me when he was angry?
He turned around with a sharp exhale and stalked a few steps away before he slanted me a cautious look. “You don’t have to be scared. I won’t force myself on you. Last night was necessary, but I won’t seek you out again until you want me to.”
He sounded tired again and as if he were certain I’d never want him to. What had happened between his wife and him? I pushed the thought of her to the back of my mind, and with it the accompanying uneasiness.
I should have said something, but I was overwhelmed—by the situation, by the kiss that still echoed in my lips, by the look in Cassio’s eyes. I felt like I was caught up in a current, which spun faster and faster, leaving me disoriented. Yesterday morning I’d been me, an eighteen-year-old girl who loved art and Pilates. Now I was a wife, a stepmother, the society lady at an Underboss’s side. With all my new roles, was there still room for me?
Cassio looked at me, nodding slowly, as if my expression gave him an answer to a question he hadn’t even uttered. He walked over to the bed and sank down. His broad shoulders and back were covered by long, thin vertical scars that I hadn’t noticed before. Many of them.
I approached him to get a better look. Cassio didn’t say anything, only looked at me. I pointed at one of the scars then lightly touched it but pulled my hand away after a moment.
“You can touch them,” Cassio said calmly, but his voice had an edgier note to it. I brushed my fingertips over the scars on his shoulder blades and back. Some fathers tortured their sons to make them strong. Cassio was strong and brutal. Was his father the reason for it? “Who did this? Your father?”
Cassio shook his head. The way he was watching me made me blush. I wasn’t even sure why. “When I was around your age, a few of my men and I got captured by the Bratva. They whipped me before they moved on to other torture methods.”
My mouth ran dry at his clinical tone. “My God, that’s horrible.” I sank down beside him on the edge of the bed. His musky scent made me want to lean closer, to run my nose along his skin and taste it. What a ridiculous thought.
“Why did you think my father did it?”
“Because that’s how many Made Man make their sons strong. You know my uncles… abusing their children is their favorite sport.”
Cassio’s eyes lingered on the small scar on my knee then moved up to the one on my outer thigh and one on my upper arm. They weren’t prominent, but sitting as close as we did, they couldn’t be missed.
“I have one on my shoulder too,” I said, twisting to show him the scar there. “Four scars. Not much in comparison to yours.”
Something in his gaze made my pulse pick up, something dark lurking in its depth. “Those scars,” he murmured. “Did your father create them?”
Oh. Now I understood the look. “No,” I said quickly and without thinking put my hand on his. His eyes cut down to our hands then back up to me. “He never hit me. He wouldn’t. He adores me.” That sounded vain, but it was the truth. My father was certainly a violent man, but not at home, not to my mother and me.
Cassio chuckled. “I can see why he does.”
I bit my lip, surprised by his words.
“Who gave you those scars then?”
“When I was young, I loved to climb trees. We had a few old tall trees in our garden. I loved to climb them. I wasn’t supposed to, but I snuck out all the time. One time I didn’t pay enough attention and fell down. I broke a few bones and got cut up by a thorn bush beneath the tree. That’s it. Dad cut down all the trees after that.”
“You make it sound as if Felix is a good father, which contradicts the opinion I’ve gathered on him as a human being in general.”
I wasn’t offended by his words. Dad didn’t have the respect of his fellow Underbosses. Christian had complained about it more than once. “He doesn’t like you very much either.”
Cassio laughed, a deep belly laugh, which made me grin. “He gave me you. What a strange way to show me his disdain.”
Our arms brushed lightly. He was so warm, so tall, so strong. With his stubble and the square jaw and sharp cheekbones, he was the epitome of manliness. I’d always considered myself a girl who’d go for the ballet dancer type, the nerd with glasses, the sophisticated chess player. I had been so very wrong because Cassio’s body hit all the right buttons. My eyes lingered on the Famiglia tattoo on his chest, right over his heart.
Born in Blood, Sworn in Blood
I enter alive and leave dead.
I traced the intricate letters, not even thinking about it. His chest hair tickled my fingertips and sent a thrill into every nerve ending of my body. Cassio stilled under my touch, but his eyes burned me. I wanted him, wanted to feel his strong body on top of me again, his stubble scratching my inner thighs, his lips hot between my legs.
Heat flooded me.
I looked up. Cassio’s chest heaved. He didn’t move. He was waiting for me to say something, do something, but I didn’t know how. Again, this sense of being overwhelmed hit me.
I dropped my hand.
Cassio cleared his throat. “I have an early morning. We should sleep.”
“Yeah,” I said quickly then got onto all fours to crawl to my side of the bed.
Cassio’s sharp exhale made me cringe, realizing my thoughtless move. I’d practically jutted my butt out and knelt on all fours right beside him. I could practically see Cassio’s restraint snapping. With a groan, he slung an arm around my hip and pressed a kiss right on my ass cheek before he pulled me on top of him. My lips were already parted with surprise when his tongue plunged into my mouth. His big hand covered the back of my head, holding me in place.
My pulse throbbed right between my legs at the fiery heat of Cassio’s kiss, at the feel of his muscular thighs under my ass and the growing pressure of his desire for me.
A shrill cry burst through our bubble. We jerked apart. Cassio glanced to the baby monitor.
“Simona.”
I pushed off his lap. My legs felt like rubber and my panties clung to my center.
My arousal evaporated the moment I realized that it was my job to console the crying baby and to do whatever else was required in a situation like that.
Giulia looked at me with wide eyes. My brain was working slower than usual. Her taste lingered on my tongue, and my thighs were still warm from her pretty ass. Despite my promise to keep my distance, I’d practically dragged her onto my lap the first chance I got. She hadn’t resisted. Because she wanted me, or because she feared to refuse me?
Simona’s cries grew in intensity.
“She’s probably hungry.”
“Okay?” Giulia looked like a deer in the headlights.
I sighed and stood, rearranging my dick so it wasn’t as obvious. “Come on, I’ll show you everything.” Giulia pulled a robe over and followed after me. I was on the way downstairs to prepare the bottle, but Giulia froze. “Shouldn’t we console her first before going down into the kitchen?”
I considered that then nodded slowly. Sybil had prepared the bottle while I took care of Simona. Once Sybil fed her, I returned to bed.
Giulia and I went to Simona’s bedroom and walked in. I turned the lights on. Simona’s face scrunched up with h
er cries, her skin already turning red. Her cries tore at me. She’d always been a crier, but since Gaia’s death, it had become worse. Now every one of her cries seemed to ring with an undertone of accusation, and my guilt weighed heavy on my shoulders.
I walked over to the crib and picked Simona up, cradling her in my arms. She quieted only briefly. Sighing, I headed back to the door where Giulia was hovering with an uncertain expression. “You don’t know anything about children, right?”
She hesitated. “Only what I’ve read.”
That was what I’d suspected. Her parents made it sound like she was a practiced babysitter, but of course that had been tactic. Rocking Simona gently, I headed downstairs, Giulia close behind me. I could only hope Daniele wouldn’t wake as well. I couldn’t comfort them both, not that he would let me console him.
Stifling my frustration, I entered the kitchen. It had been a while since I’d prepared a bottle, but Sybil had set everything out in preparation.
I nodded toward the bottles and formula. “You have to prepare the bottle.”
Giulia’s eyes snapped to me. “I’ve never done it.”
I sighed then held Simona out to her. “Then you’ll have to hold her while I show you how to do it.”
Giulia glanced at my daughter, swallowing. Embarrassment filled her face as she met my gaze, and I knew what she’d say before she did. “I’ve never held a baby in my life.”
For a moment, I felt the urge to lash out at her verbally, but I shoved it down. Giulia had even less say in marrying me than I did. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t know the first thing about being a mother. “It’s not difficult. Just hold out your arms and take her.”
“What if I drop her? Or hurt her? Or—”
“Giulia, it’s going to be fine. You won’t drop her, and you won’t hurt her.”
Giulia nodded and finally held out her arms. I put Simona into them, and Giulia immediately cradled her to her chest. “Oh, she’s heavier than I thought.”
I hovered beside her to see if she could handle it, but Giulia only had eyes for Simona. She looked terrified and a little lost. Then Simona did what she always did when anyone but me or my sisters or mother held her; she began bawling, her tiny arms and legs thrashing as she tried to squirm away from the stranger.
Giulia’s eyes grew wide, scared, as she sought my gaze for help.
Sighing, I went over to the bottles. “Try to console her. She needs to get used to you.” Simona had never taken to Sybil or the other maids. If the same happened with Giulia, months of sleepless nights would turn into years and my daughter would remain without a mother figure in her life. It was an option I didn’t want to entertain.
“Shh… Shh.” Giulia rocked Simona, but even from afar I could see her anxiety, and Simona could probably feel it too. The crying didn’t cease. If possible, it got even more intense. I moved faster, preparing the formula, trying not to let the cries snap my patience. I wanted to call Felix right this moment and tell him that he’d regret lying to me, that I’d find a way to make him pay. The best way, of course, to pay him back would be to nullify our marriage because he’d cheated me of a promised mother figure. With the bottle, I walked over to Giulia, who looked close to tears herself. But it would be absolutely dishonorable to cancel the marriage at this point, and not just that…. Nothing in this world would make me give up Giulia now that I had her. Maybe she wasn’t the mother my children needed, but fuck, she was what I craved.
The moment I took Simona from Giulia, her shoulders sagged with relief. Simona quieted in my hold and accepted the bottle, watching me with teary eyes, her chubby cheeks blotchy.
“I’m sorry,” Giulia said. Guilt filled her expression.
I didn’t say anything. Slowly, I made my way back upstairs and into Simona’s room. Giulia was quiet. I should say something, tell her it would get better, but I wasn’t sure if it was true.
Giulia watched me the entire time that I fed my daughter. Simona was calm as I cradled her against my chest. “Should I try to hold her again?” she asked, uncertain.
“No,” I clipped. I couldn’t bear another crying fit.
Giulia nodded slowly, looking away. Silence settled over us, only disturbed by the suckling sounds of Simona drinking her bottle. When she was finally done, my eyes burned with exhaustion. I tried to put Simona back down in her crib, but the moment I did, she began wailing again.
With a small sigh, I went over to the rocking chair in the corner and sank down. The thing groaned under my weight. “You can go to sleep. I don’t need you.”
Giulia winced as if I’d slapped her. She turned, walked out, and silently closed the door.
I rocked, watching my daughter who looked wide awake. This would be another sleepless night.
Simona had eventually fallen asleep so I was able to catch two hours of sleep before my alarm rang at six. Groaning, feeling bone-tired, I straightened in bed. Giulia sat up too. Just like after our first night together, her eyes were puffy from crying. Maybe our bond was doomed the same way my bond with Gaia had been.
“Good morning,” she said, tugging a strand of hair behind her ear and straightening her bangs. “I didn’t hear you come to bed.”
“It was late. Simona wouldn’t fall asleep.”
Giulia bit her lip. “Sybil’s going to be here today, right?”
I nodded. “You don’t have to worry. You won’t have to be alone with my children yet. Sybil will show you how to take care of them until you know what to do. But Sybil’s main job is to clean and cook.”
“Okay,” she said softly.
“I’m going to get ready. Your bodyguards are coming over at seven so I can introduce you before I leave for work.”
“Are they your late wife’s bodyguards?”
Fury burned in my chest. “No.” Which was mostly the truth.
Giulia got out of bed, but her eyes were on me. “When will you be home tonight?”
“I don’t know.” I headed into the bathroom and closed the door. The hot shower did nothing to dissipate the heavy sense of exhaustion.
While Giulia got ready, I dressed in my usual three-piece suit before I headed to Daniele’s room. As expected, he wasn’t inside. I found him on Gaia’s bed, still in his PJs, staring down at his tablet. “Daniele, you know you aren’t supposed to be in here.”
He didn’t react, except for rounding in his small shoulders and jutting out his chin. I went over to him and picked him up. He squirmed in my hold, but I didn’t set him down.
“It’s enough,” I snapped. My patience was running thin after last night.
He only struggled harder. My chest tightened in a mix of despair and frustration. “Daniele, stop it now!”
He froze and so did Giulia, who was watching from her spot in the doorway to our bedroom.
Simona began wailing in her room. Seconds later, the dog began barking up a storm downstairs. I stopped and for a moment, sure I’d lose it. Swallowing hard, I went over to Giulia and set Daniele down in front of her.
“Get him dressed and don’t allow him to spend all day on the tablet. I’ll take care of Simona.” I didn’t wait for her reply.
Turning my back on her and my son’s accusing little face, I headed to my daughter. Once in her room, I rested my forehead against the cool door for a couple of heartbeats before finally I felt in a state of mind to console my little girl.
I stood frozen, staring down at the little boy. What had just happened? Daniele had struggled against Cassio’s grip as if he was terrified of him. And for a moment, Cassio had appeared as if he was on the verge of losing control.
Loulou kept barking downstairs, but Simona quieted eventually, probably because Cassio had taken her out of her crib. Remembering last night’s mess, I squared my shoulders and squatted before the little boy.
“Hello, Daniele. I’m Giulia.”
Daniele looked at me with miserable milk-chocolate-brown eyes. His caramel-blond hair was a tousled mess and even looked knotted
in places, as if it hadn’t been combed properly in a long time.
“How about we get you ready for the day?”
He didn’t react, only stared. My stomach tightened. This kid was hurting. His mother had died only a few months ago, and his dad was obviously overwhelmed by the situation. I didn’t know what had happened, didn’t know the extent of Daniele’s trauma, but it was obvious that he needed help. He looked thin too.
I straightened and held out my hand. “Will you show me to your room?”
Nothing. He looked down at the tablet clutched in his hand and turned it on. A sort of game with colorful balloons popped up. I didn’t want to forcefully carry him into his room like Cassio might have done. That wouldn’t help me getting the boy’s trust.
“Daniele, please, help me? I’m new here and I need you to show me your room. Will you help me?” I waited with extended hand.
Daniele didn’t take my hand or look up from the tablet, but he moved toward his room. I followed him inside. He sank down on his bed, the tablet on his lap.
Looking around, I spotted a wardrobe on the right side. Everything was in neutral tones: the walls, furniture, rugs—except for the colorful stuffed toy dinosaurs on the shelves and on his bed. I’d have to do something about that. In my research about children, I’d found images of beautiful hand drawings for nurseries.
After some rummaging, I finally found a pair of jean pants and a sweatshirt. Most of the clothes inside the drawers were for warmer temperatures and most of the winter clothes that I’d found looked too small for Daniele. I headed back to him and knelt down in front of him, tilting my head to see his face. He was focused on the screen, but briefly his lashes fluttered up. “Can you dress yourself?”
I didn’t know when kids learned things like that. When Daniele didn’t react, I reached for his tablet. He let out an enraged cry and turned away. “Daniele, we need to get you dressed.”
I took the tablet and Daniele threw himself at me, completely catching me off guard. The way I was kneeling, I had no chance to brace myself. I fell back and landed on my back with Daniele on top of me as he fought me for the tablet. His nails scratched my cheek.
