"A ring. A real one. I deserve a real one."
I bring her hand to my lips and press a slow kiss to her knuckles.
"Yes," I say against her skin. "You do."
"And freedom." Her voice doesn't waver. "I want to feel free, even if we're together. I want my life to still be mine."
Hmm. I consider that for a moment. Freedom.What does freedom mean to Valentina?
I suppose that’s a conversation we’ll have to have.
Because I won’t leave her unprotected. I won’t leave her without surveillance. And I damn sure won’t let her out of my sight for long.
“Anything else?”
She pauses.
Her eyes find mine and hold.
“Yes. There is one more thing.”
She doesn’t look away, and neither do I. The room falls quiet around us, the air tightening, heat simmering between us. I wait for her to make her third demand.
“I want to be loved.”
Her voice is softer now, stripped of its armor.
“Not as a prize. Not as an obligation.” She swallows, but she doesn’t break my gaze. “I want someone to truly love me.”
A beat passes between us.
Then she says it.
“I want you to love me, Salvatore.”
The room goes still.
I have stood in every kind of room. I have made demands of senators, of capos, of men who wept and begged me for their lives. Not one of them has ever made me want to be on the receiving end of anything.
She is the only one.
"Say something," she whispers.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay." I look into her eyes and I let her see it. All of it. Everything I've been keeping behind glass. "Now, Valentina. Will you please take off your fucking clothes?"
"No, Salvatore."
My name is in her mouth. Not a plea. Not a question.
A declaration.
"I want you," she says, stepping toward me, closing the distance I made. Her hands press flat against my chest. "To take off your clothes."
I go completely still.
