My blood runs cold. The box is identical to the one I received the night before my wedding. My dad’s signature.
“Did the delivery guy say anything?” I ask, my voice sharp enough to cut glass.
Colin shakes his head. “Not really.” He scratches his head. “He just said he had a delivery for Mr. Russo and that it was urgent.”
“He showed us his license,” Ian adds. “We checked him out and found he works for a boat delivery service. Everything’s legit, just like with the delivery at the house.”
I approach the box slowly, a sickness spreading through my gut as I remove the lid to find exactly what I expected. Perfectlyrolled cigars. I lift one and study the label. This time the custom label reads “April 6th”.
My hands clench into fists so tight my knuckles turn white. “Increase security,” I order, struggling to keep my voice level. “I want hourly perimeter checks. Full monitoring of all approaches to the island.”
“Already done,” Ian confirms. “We’ve activated the additional systems and called in more men from the mainland. They’ll be here within the hour.”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the rage and fear coursing through me. “It’s Alina’s birthday today,” I growl. “I won’t have anything spoil my wife’s day.”
Ian clears his throat, pointing at a small card I hadn’t noticed tucked beneath the cigars. “And yours, boss.”
I snatch up the card sticking to the lid, reading the simple message.
To my son and his bride on your shared day!
A vicious laugh escapes me. Of course he knows we share a birthday. There’s nothing Andrea Russo doesn’t know about the people in his orbit.
“Keep me updated on every boat, every plane, every fucking seagull that comes within a mile of this island,” I command, pocketing the card and closing the cigar box with a sharp snap. “And prepare the getaway boat. I want it ready to move at a moment’s notice.”
“Yes, boss,” Colin nods, already reaching for his phone.
“I’m going back to the house,” I tell them. “Handle everything else.”
I return to our bedroom to find Alina exactly as I left her; sprawled across the sheets. My cock hardens instantly at the sight. I strip quickly, dropping my clothes where I stand, and slide carefully onto the bed beside her sleeping form.
She stirs slightly, murmuring something unintelligible as I gently pull the sheet away from her body.Mine.My wife. My birthday gift to unwrap.
I move down the bed, spreading her thighs with careful hands. She sighs in her sleep, unconsciously yielding to my touch. I position myself between her legs, my breath ghosting over her center as I study the pink folds already glistening with arousal.
My first lick is gentle, a slow exploration from entrance to clit. I repeat the motion, flattening my tongue against her sweet cunt.
“Mhmm,” she moans, her hips lifting slightly toward my mouth.
I glance up to see her eyes fluttering open, confusion giving way to pleasure as she realizes what’s happening. “Raffaele,” she gasps, her fingers finding their way into my hair.
I don’t answer, too busy tasting her, circling her clit with the tip of my tongue before pressing a kiss directly to the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“What are you… oh!” Her question dissolves into a moan as I suck gently, increasing the pressure gradually until her thighs begin to tremble around my head.
Only then do I pull back slightly, enough to speak. “Happy birthday, Mogliettina,” I murmur against her wet flesh before spearing my tongue inside her.
“Birthday?” she manages, her voice breathy and disoriented. “How did you—”
I cut off her question by focusing my attention on her clit again, sucking hard enough to make her back arch off the bed. Her hands tighten in my hair, pulling almost painfully as I drive her toward her orgasm.
“Oh God, Raffaele,” she cries out, her hips bucking against my face. “I’m going to…”
“Come for me,” I command against her flesh, the vibration of my voice sending her over the edge.
Her thighs clamp around my head, squashing me, as waves of pleasure wash through her. I work her through it, lapping up her release like a man starved, only easing back when her body goes limp against the mattress.
I wipe my mouth against her inner thigh, leaving a wet streak of her arousal on her pale skin, and blowing on the damp skin just so I can watch the skin pebble.
