She's watching me with an expression I can't quite read, and I need her to understand the full scope of what I'm confessing. "I'm not a good man. I've killed people—more people than I can count. I've broken bones and destroyed lives and done terrible things in service to your family. And I don't feel guilty about most of it, because in this world, violence is the way things are. Mercy is weakness to the people in our world. If I didn’t do those things, worse things would happen to the people I care about. But you need to understand that the man you fell in love with—the man who was gentle with you at the club, who made you feel safe and wanted—that's only one part of who I am."
I expect to see fear, or revulsion, but she just keeps looking at me, listening, like she’s waiting for me to keep going. So I do.
"The other part is capable of extreme violence. The other part enjoys hurting people who threaten what I care about. The other part would burn down the entire city if it meant keeping you and our child safe. And I need you to understand that before you decide whether you really want to build a life with me, because loving me means accepting all of that—the gentleness and the violence.”
For a long moment she just stares at me, and I brace myself for her to pull away, to realize that the man she thought she loved is actually a monster, that she never understood fully what it meant to do what I do for her family. But then she stands upand moves to sit on the edge of the bed beside me, still holding my hand.
"I know exactly who you are. I've heard the stories about what you're capable of when someone crosses the line. And I've never been afraid of you. Not once." She shakes her head. “I might not have been told much about how this family operates, but I’m not stupid, Luca. And I’m not scared.”
"You should be. You should be terrified of what I could do, of what I've done?—"
"But I'm not." She reaches up with her free hand and cups my face, forcing me to look at her. "Because I've also seen the way you are with the people you care about. I've seen you with Romeo, the loyalty and brotherhood between you. I've seen you with my father… the respect and dedication you show even when you disagree with his decisions. And I've seen you with me. I know what you can be like, Luca. I understand both sides, and the violence doesn't scare me. I understand that it's part of the world we live in, part of what's necessary to survive. What scared me was the thought that you'd never forgive me, that you'd spend the rest of our lives punishing me for my mistakes, and that our child would grow up in a house full of resentment and coldness."
"But if you're telling me you love me," she says, her voice cracking, "if you're telling me you want to try to build something real, then I'm not scared anymore. Because I know who you are, Luca. I know all of you—the violence and the gentleness, the darkness and the light. And I love all of it. I love you."
I feel as if some wall comes crumbling down inside me, something breaking apart that was the last bastion I had against giving in to everything I want with this woman. And suddenly I can't stand the distance between us anymore, can't stand not touching her properly, not holding her the way I've wanted to for weeks.
“Come here,” I whisper, and I reach for her, pulling her closer. She hesitates for only a second, then awkwardly tries to maneuver so that she’s not touching my injured side, clearly needing the closeness as much as I do. I wrap my arm around her, pulling her against me, and she curls into me with a sound that's half sob and half sigh of relief.
"I forgive you," I say into her hair, and I feel her entire body go still against mine. "I have to, because you're the only woman I've ever loved, and the only one I ever will love. And if I can understand why you did what you did—if I can see that you were desperate and trapped and doing the only thing you could think of to have even a moment of what you wanted—then how can I keep being angry at you for it?"
"Luca—" I can hear the tears in her voice. When she tilts her face up to look at me, I can see hope blooming across her expression.
"I'd do anything to keep you," I whisper. "I'd lie, cheat, kill, destroy everything I've built—I'd do whatever it took to make sure you and our child are safe and happy. So how can I keep punishing you for doing exactly the same thing? For being willing to do anything—even things you knew were wrong—to have me?"
"I love you,” she whispers back. "I love you so much.”
And then, because I can’t stand not doing it for a moment longer, I turn and kiss her.
I need her mouth against mine, her warmth… all of her. And when my lips touch hers, it feels like no kiss we’ve ever shared before. It’s her, but I’m not angry or punishing her or so desperate that I’m touching her even though I want to push her away. I want to bring her closer. I want a future with her. And I want to put everything else that’s happened behind us.
I graze my lips over hers, soft and then harder, my tongue tasting her lower lip, and the soft, helpless sound she makesstiffens my cock instantly. I didn’t think there was enough blood left in my body after the gunshot to get hard, but apparently I was wrong. I’m throbbing within seconds, aching for her, and when she breaks away, we’re both breathless.
“Luca, we shouldn’t…”
I realize she felt me, pressed against her hip when I turned to kiss her. I shake my head, sliding my thumb over her cheekbone as I kiss her again.
“I need you,” I whisper. “I need to be inside you, Giulia. I need to feel you, to…” She moans again against my mouth, and I swear my cock jerks against her. “You might need to be on top, butfuck…”
I’m already sliding her T-shirt up, hand skimming over her ribs, up to her breasts, and I can feel her breath quickening under my hand. She reaches out, her fingers grazing the thick ridge of my cock through my sweatpants, and I groan against her mouth.
I hadn’t realized I could get her naked so quickly. Before I know it, I have her top and bra off and her jeans unbuttoned, pushing them down her hips so I can slide my hand between her legs. She’s soaked for me, drenching my fingers instantly, and I want to taste her.
The moment she’s naked, I grab her hips, urging her up the bed. “Sit on my face,tesoro,” I murmur, staring up at her with hungry eyes. She’s so fucking gorgeous, and after everything that’s happened… I need all of her. I need to remember that she’s mine.
She looks unsure for a second, but I can see the want in her face, too, see how badly she needs the same thing. She moves up, straddling my face, and before she can think twice I grip her hips tightly and pull her down onto my mouth.
She lets out a surprised exclamation, and I see her grab onto the headboard, her mouth dropping open as I start to slide mytongue over her, my cock throbbing with need as I taste her again.
I know one thing for certain.
I was wrong to ever think I wanted to let this woman go. And I’ll never make that mistake again.
32
GIULIA
The whiplash is so startling that all I can do is hang on for dear life.
