His face stilled, every muscle immovable as he stared right through me like he didn't even see me, couldn't see me. Lost in the midfield of his memories, trying to cover up the hard ones, but he didn't need to do that with me.
Tracing some of the tattoos on his neck with the pad of my fingers, I leaned forward, kissing him slowly and softly. His lips didn't move, and yet I kept going. Cupping his face as I took tender care to bring him back here to me.
It didn't take long for his soft lips to tremble, and I kept going. Soft and slow, careful. Putting all of my love into it. I wanted him to feel that I was here with him, that I saw him, and I was never going to leave.
His lips moved slowly like he was waking up from a dream. His hands slid up my body; his lips pressed into me with urgency. His tongue swiped out against the seam of my lips, asking for entry, and I opened right away with a moan, pressing my naked body into his. Reminding him that I was there for him.
A knock sounded at the door, “If you're not out in three minutes, we’re coming in. And I promise that you won’t be able to walk after.” Hearing Nicu’s threat, I rolled my eyes, chuckling against Cezar’s lips. He thought that was a threat. It was cute, but his words reminded me that this wasn't the time to confront Cezar about his past. If I lived past the next few days, we could talk about it then.
Cezar slumped against me, breathing hard with his head on my shoulder. “I’m this close to killing him.”
Kissing the side of his face, I chuckled. “Awe, I would miss my third husband.”
His head tipped up, eyes wide with hope—no longer that vacant, despondent look. “You’re finally going to admit we’re your husbands?”
Shrugging, I smiled, “Pending,” combing his hair back, “I still want-.”
“A Ring, a white dress, and a fucking piece of paper. I know. I know.”
“As long as you know,” was all I could say, and I meant it.
His smiling lips turned down, tipping his head to the side as he whispered yelled, “If you don’t shut the fuck up.”
Pushing my finger against his face, turning it towards me and asked, “What is Cal saying now?” He shook his head, looking down, and I almost laughed. Cal was starting to grow on me. “Come on, I promise I won’t get upset.”
He eyed me like he didn't believe it, then shrugged, keeping his eyes on mine, “He says that your tits look lickable, dripping wet like that.” Rolling my lips inward, I tried to keep myself from busting out laughing.
“Coming,” I yelled past Cezar, needing to get out of here before something started and we couldn’t lave. I heard a loud plopping sound, and I looked down to see Cezar’s shirt at the bottom of the tub. His whole chest was on display; all the black ink called to me, begging for me to touch and explore the canvas of his body.
Lifting my hand, I paused, giving Cezar enough time to try and coerce me. “You can stay here. I’ll throw a knife at the next one who comes in.”
All that did was remind me that we needed to talk to make up a game plan, and that was more important than exploring his body. I would have more time for that later… hopefully.
Kissing his cheek, I ducked under his arm and past the shower curtain, throwing the words over my shoulder. “We need to figure out what to do about your father.”
He puffed out, mumbling to himself before calling out behind the curtain, “Cal just said that you killed the vibe by bringing my daddy shit into this.” His voice changed when he switched to talking to himself, “Hey, fuck you, Cal, don’t talk to my wife!”
“Areyou sure you want to do this?” Biting my lip, I knew that no matter how this played out, it was going to be even more trauma for these men. Killing your own father had to be up there on the trauma list.
“There’s no other way, Kazia. He’s going to try to marry you before the other heads come here in the next few days.” Nicu’s eyes narrowed, his arms crossed over his chest as he threw an accusing question my way. “Unless that's what you want? Do you want to marry our father?”
Bile rose from the back of my throat, and I gagged. Cezar stepped up next to me, “I don't care if she wants it; it's not happening.”
“No,” waving my hands up, still covering my mouth to make sure nothing actually came out, “No. I don't want to marry that vile, disgusting man, and you fucking know it!”
Taking in a few breaths, I stood straight and held my ground, trying to explain myself. “No matter how horrible a person's parents are, it’ll hurt you to plan and execute this.” Looking each of them in the eyes, I let them know how seriously I took this. “You'll never get over this. Once everything is done and your feelings have calmed down, you might end up resenting this…resenting me for this. I want to make sure this is really what you want to do. You can't go back.”
I meant every word, knowing that if they backed out now, it would probably mean my death. I’d hoped the bond we’d built would be strong enough, because I was serious about not marrying that man. I would rather die by my own hand.
Ion, leaning against the wall next to me, pushed off and faced me. “You may not believe us, may not trust us, but we’re not just doing this for you. We,” he looked at his brothers, who nodded back at him, “We've always known that it would either be him or us. He's obsessed with power, control, and ownership. He already complains about Nicu trying to take his spot, so this is an inevitable outcome. You just…,”
He reached for my hand, squeezing it. “You’re just the catalyst. Pushing us to do it now versus later.”
“Plus, we need to know.” Nicu came around his bed and stopped right in front of me, his hands balled into fists. “There is some reason it needs to be you, a reason that’s somehow connected to the treaty with the other crime families; it somehow gives him power. I think… I think that's why he wanted your mother originally. They also gave him a stipulation.”
Ion kept his hand in mine, his voice going hard. “We don't have to bring that up since it's not going to happen.”
“I'm not going to lie to her. She should always know everything…” Nicu tipped my chin up, “good or bad, right?”
