“Okay,” I agree, not knowing what I’m truly agreeing to. But knowing that whatever it is, I don’t think I’m ready for it.
fourteen
What the fuckam I doing? This is quite possibly the worst idea I’ve ever had. Yet here we are, climbing the steps of a private jet, Vanessa looking around like a baby deer in the headlights.
“What the hell do you do, Seb?” She whispers as we enter the luxurious cabin.
I hand our bags to the crew member responsible for storing everything before the flight departs. A flight attendant appears from the back of the cabin. She’s young and beautiful, the type who usually frequents these kinds of charters because they’re ripe with rich playboys who tip well and provide endless entertainment for women like her. She grins salaciously at me, but I ignore her, grasping Vanessa’s wrist and directing her to the seat near the window.
“I’ve told you. It’s a family business.” I tell her, taking the seat across from her.
Her eyes are wide and mesmerized, taking in the elegance of everything around her. I imagine she’s never been anywhere thisextravagant before in her life. If she thinks this is fancy, I should probably warn her about my home.
“Yeah, okay. That’s very mafia boss of you, Sebastian. How about a real answer? Is it like generational wealth or something? I feel like it’s only rich douche bros that fly around in fancy jets like this, and they’re all investment bankers or living off daddy’s money or both. I don’t think you fall into any of those categories. You’ve gotta give me something here!” She gestures around the cabin. “How in the fuck is this your life?”
“It's safer for us all if you don’t ask questions, Vanessa.” I tell her as honestly as I possibly can.
“I’ve heard that before. From Breaker, actually. And it turns out he kills people for a living, soooo…” she shrugs, looking expectantly at me, but I just stare back at her. Letting her draw her own conclusions is probably for the best.
“Breaker is a good man, Vanessa. That is all that matters in the balance of right and wrong.” I reply, leaning back in my seat and scrolling through my phone. I send a message to Matteo letting him know I’m on the way home, but no other details.
“I know he is. Don’t misunderstand me. I have no problem with the work he does. If you were to tell me you did the same thing, I wouldn’t judge you, Sebastian. The world isn’t black and white, and I’ve never been scared of all the color you can find when you look hard enough. I grew up in a world full of bad people. I’ve seen people who did bad things for terrible reasons and people who did bad things because they were just trying to survive, just trying to keep their families alive. I see nothing wrong with being bad for the right reasons. Just depends on the way you look at things, I guess.” She stares straight into my soul, her beautiful golden-brown eyes captivating me more and more by the second.
“Not everyone believes the way you do, unfortunately.” I say, severing our connection before I can fall any deeper into her trance.
“I know that. I just don’t care.” She leans back in her seat, her cropped band t-shirt riding up several inches to reveal a sliver of skin.
Vanessa may be unsure when it comes to some things, but her confidence shines through in so many ways it's infectious. She’s wearing a pair of black high-waisted linen pants and a vintage t-shirt that’s cropped just below her lacy bralette. The edge of it peeks out every time she shifts in her seat or reaches her arm up to adjust her messy curls piled on top of her head. Her casual sophistication is nothing like that of the women I’m used to in my world. She doesn’t hide her curves under oversized layers of clothing the way many full-figured women do. She doesn’t give a damn who looks, she just is who she is.
The women who hang around the men of Fortuna Nera are chic, Italian elegance, but stuck up and only looking for whichever man can get them as high as possible in the family. I have no interest in being anyone's meal ticket, but it’s not lost on me that I have no heir to continue my family line once I die.
Should the time come sooner than I expect, Fortuna Nera should pass to whoever I have named my successor. In theory, that is. But there would be a bloody war. Things move much more smoothly when there is a bloodline to follow. Is it an antiquated tradition that holds little weight in modern society? Absolutely. But as they say, Rome wasn’t built in a day, and Fortuna will not be rebuilt in a matter of years either.
A vision of Vanessa as a mother flashes through my mind, her perfectly full-bodied curves growing even softer as she grows a child. It’s the last fucking thing I should be thinking about while we’re both stuck on this plane for a ten-hour flight to Italy, but I can’t stop where my mind is taking me. Vanessadissolving under my touch as she lets me explore every inch of her body the way I wanted to the moment I saw her. Her caramel eyes shuddering closed as she collapses under the weight of her overwhelming desire for me. Vanessa,mine.
My cock stiffens behind my zipper, and I adjust in my seat. I need to think about something else, anything else. Scrolling on my phone, I absentmindedly read through several emails as the crew goes through their last-minute checks before takeoff. Vanessa stares out the window silently, her mind a thousand miles away.
“Everything okay?” I ask, and she jumps in surprise, completely zoned out.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Everything’s great. I mean, I’m not a huge fan of planes or flying, but yeah, I’m good. And I’ve never really left Doug behind, but I know he loves Rory. And hopefully the shop won’t be too much of a burden for her. I hate putting so much on her shoulders. Do you think Breaker will help? Of course not, he has work, I’m sure. I don’t know. Do you think one of your henchmen can make sure I locked my doors? I think I did. Do you have henchmen? I feel like this level of luxury means you have henchmen.” She word-vomits every thought passing through her mind, which is better than actually being ill, so I’ll take it.
Before I can think about what I’m doing, and why the fuck I’m doing it, I pull her out of her seat and into my lap. She lands with a soft thud, her legs draping over mine and extending over the arm of the chair. Pulling her head against my chest, she stiffens for only a fraction of a second before melting into me, tucking one arm into her chest and wrapping the other around my neck. She sighs heavily, letting my scent permeate her lungs and bring her some semblance of peace. And shockingly, it works. Her rapid heart rate slows, her breathing evening out within just a few moments of me stroking her delicate curls.
“It’s going to be okay, Bambina. I won’t let anything happen to you, to Doug, or to your business. I know these things are important to you.” I try to reassure her, but I’ve never been very good at offering comfort. Honestly, I can’t remember a time I’ve ever wanted to.
“I’m sorry. I’m not a mess, I promise. I don’t know why you keep finding me at my worst, but I’m not this person.” She sniffles, and I wonder if she’s crying as she buries her head further into my chest.
“I know you are a strong woman, Vanessa. I’ve known since the first time your eyes met mine. Since the first time you called me a bastard. Most people cower in my presence, but never you. Something about your intensity, your soul. There’s a hardness in you that the world has continuously tried to carve into. It failed. I feel that same hardness lives in me. You don’t bend. You endure. And somehow that makes you even more intoxicating to me.” I shouldn’t be confessing these truths to her, but seeing her so scared broke something in me. I want to be the one to hold all of her damaged pieces together. Her shoulders shake so slightly, and I have my confirmation that she is indeed crying.
“You’re unyielding in the way fire is once it’s been set, Vanessa. Beautiful, merciless, and impossible to look away from. There’s nothing fragile about you, and that’s what makes you so exquisite. You think you’re weak because you’re tired. You’re not. You’re stubborn, and the fact you’re still standing is proof. I didn’t start wanting you despite that. I wanted youbecauseof it. Because of how incredibly persistent and strong you are. It’s something I need in my world.” I stroke her hair, my fingers weaving into her curls as I tilt her head back and force her to meet my eyes.
The red rim around her beautiful caramel irises causes an unfamiliar ache in my chest. Some time between hating and befriending this woman, I’ve grown to feel something else forher. Something so much deeper than I thought I was capable of feeling. A tear slips from the corner of her eye, and I catch it with my thumb. Her eyes flutter closed, a small sigh slipping from her lips.
“Seb,” she whispers, her soft breath fanning across my skin. My name sounds like a plea, an invitation, like desperation slipping from her lips. She wants me to kiss her, to capture her the way she has me. The list of reasons why I shouldn’t is longer than I could even begin to imagine, but right now I can’t think of a single one.
My resolve shatters. My hand grips tighter into her curls, angling her head exactly where I want it before pulling her body even tighter against mine. She doesn’t even have time to gasp before my lips are crushed against hers. I knew they would feel like absolute heaven. But this kiss is anything but sweet, this kiss is not soft, it’s a collision. Weeks of restraint breaking all at once, breath stolen, mouths clashing as if our bodies are still under the impression we’re fighting. She moans softly and my cock stiffens beneath her. Her nails slide up my chest, drawing a groan from deep in my throat that only serves to spur her on. My tongue demands entrance into her mouth, never asking permission again. This woman is mine, no matter what she believes. No other man will ever know her this way again. If anyone even dared to try, I would gut them from root to tip. They would suffer at my hands before meeting an untimely death. If I thought she was fascinating before, now that I’ve tasted her very soul, I will never get enough of her.
Her kiss is consuming, soft and warm, a tender ache that has settled deep instead of fading. Nothing has ever compared to this. I’m man enough to admit I’ve read novels where poets talk about the world shifting on its axis when the right woman comes along. I always thought those people were full of shit, to be honest. Until right now.
