Alyssa Russo POV“Cool,” Anne smiles.Alessandro opens the book and starts to read.I catch a word here and there. I use the chance to fold some of Anne’s clothes and put them in drawers, letting Alessandro’s smooth Italian flow over me like silk.No one should read a children’s book in this tone.It’s criminally sexy.Eventually, A closes the book. I turn as I hear it softly close, and catch him looking down at Anne.His eyes are shiny, like there’s tears behind them.But that can’t be right.Alessandro de Rossi never cries.“Is she asleep?” he whispers.She snores softly, answering the question for both of us.Alessandro rises quietly, placing the book on the nightstand. I shut off the light, and we step into the hall.Together.Suddenly, the silence between us is awkward.“Um. Thank you,” I murmur. “It was a joy,” he says.I look up.He’s being honest.“I think that I’m still a little hungry,” I blurt.I’m not sure what compels me to say it. My mind is reeling through the moments
Alessandro de Rossi POVAlyssa’s mouth on mine is a heaven that I do not deserve.She moans and tilts back, opening her lips for me.I should not take the opportunity. I should end the kiss now, a fun flirtation for both of us, before it becomes something that we can’t undo.Instead, I lick my tongue against hers, and I groan at her taste.Amaretto and vanilla.I am desperate for more of her. My hands roam her body like they are starving and she is a feast that they can’t walk away from. I touch her skin everywhere I can, pulling at her thin cotton shirt so that I can access the soft treasure underneath.A treasure.That’s exactly what Alyssa is to me right now. I treasure her, and I would do anything to keep this feeling.My world has been changed. There was only before Alyssa, and after.And I am not currently living in the after.I lap at her mouth, tasting her. Sipping her like the fine beverage she reminds me of. Trying to get so close to her that we will be part of each other, l
In a mere four or five hours, depending on when my sleeping offspring decides to wake, I’m going to have to walk out there and see him. I’m going to have to look him in his dumb face, with those lips that I know are firm and smooth and warm, and listen to his stupid voice…And know, the entire time, that he rejected me. That I threw myself at him, I wanted to kiss him more than I’ve wanted anything in my life, and he pushed me away like nothing.Cool.I’ve been hoping to figure out a way to escape for weeks now.Now, I really have a reason to figure one out.And fast.Because I can’t possibly walk around knowing that Alessandro kissed me.And hated it enough to reject me.Anne waits until an unheard of hour to wake up. It is eight o’clock in the morning, and I don’t think she’s slept this late without being sick (or recovering from a mafia hit) her entire life.Alessandro really wore her out yesterday.The thought sends a fresh fissure of confusion lancing through my mind. Why do I li
“Yes, Alyssa. I always dreamed of being a father. And a husband,” he adds darkly.“So why didn’t you? I mean, after… us,” I finish lamely.He sighs. I feel him still. It’s a good thing I’m not looking at him because when he speaks again, he says something that would have caused my jaw to drop with shock. “I wanted you, Alyssa.”Alessandro de Rossi POVMy heart pounds after I confess to Alyssa what I have been feeling for a while.Years.After our separation and the events of my parents’ deaths, I did not even consider finding a new wife. For a long time, I was too busy. Running the business left no time for grief, and I also refused to linger in the sadness that consumed my days during that dark time.I was determined to be the best head of the de Rossi Mafia family, and to honor the legacy.However, eventually things stabilized. Nico, along with many of my other most trusted soldiers, had encouraged me to take a new wife. They had encouraged women in many other ways, of course, and f
“The Irish are really upset with you. I was coming back from Marseilles, on the train, when three of them popped up on the Amtrak. We fought with them, ended up taking one hostage. We got some information out of him in the forest outside of Genoa. There’s a body there, but I asked Lorenzo to take care of it, and I have a bad feeling he set those goddamn wolves on it,” Amara grimaces.I wince as well. Lorenzo isn’t exactly involved, but neither is he a civilian. He was a special forces operator for quite a long time, and we often call him in to help when a task needs a certain amount of expertise or finesse.He also runs a rehabilitation center for wolves. There are no wild wolves in Italy, but Lorenzo’s estate is large enough that he raises them and lets them run wild. Those that cannot be wild he keeps as pets.Pets being the loosest definition of the word.“What was his fee?”“Paid. He owed me a favor,” she winces again.I blink. “Amara, you did not tell me that Lorenzo Ferrari owed
“Whatever is going on, they’re doing a great job of hiding their tracks and playing off of old rivalries,” I muse.Enzo Russo nods. “Yeah. They really are. They seem to know all the buttons to press when it comes to our families, and the dynamics between a couple of the businesses involved.”“Who has knowledge like this?” I ask the room.Amara tilts her head. “What do you mean?”“What type of person, if any, makes it their business to know everything about everyone?”Amara snorts. “We all do, babe.”“No,” I stand. I’m pacing, my mind whirling. “We need to think of who has the most to lose, and most to gain.”“To gain? Probably the motorcycle gang but they’re pretty much just thugs. Happy to be bodies for hire as long as they get their guns and their glory and get out,” Enzo adds.I look at him. “You said there was trouble at the warehouse. What was it?”“Workers being harassed on the way to work. Break-ins.”“Amara and I were shot at, prior to coming to collect Alyssa,” Alessandro add
I nod and lean back in my chair. “Her favorite are the crepes suzette. I had Nonna Francesca make them for her. She takes her coffee with enough sugar to cause a seizure and more cream than any decent Italian would ever put in it.”Enzo arches an eyebrow at me. “Thanks. I think,” he says.“Amara never needs my permission. But it does not mean that I do not love her fiercely, and it does not mean that I will not avenge her accordingly.”Enzo nods and rises. He goes to the espresso machine and begins to prime it. “Alyssa seems okay.”“She is unharmed.”“She didn’t tell Anne that you’re her father?”I go stock still. “No. She did not.”“And you’re fine with that?”He’s not looking at me, but I know that this is his version of the same interrogation I just did. I chuckle slightly at that.I do not have memories of Enzo. He is younger than Joemar and me, only a mere ten months older than Alyssa.However, I have no doubt that he is as ferocious of an advocate for his sister as I am for mine
I lean forward more, running my nails through his hair as I lick the seam of his lips. Alessandro stills, freezing up like he can’t believe what I’m doing. “Alyssa,” he murmurs against my mouth.I take the opportunity and slide my tongue against his, gripping the back of his neck for leverage.I taste his growl. “Alyssa, what are you…?”“Kiss me,” I pant. I look up at him through my lashes.The storm in his eyes sends a shiver of arousal through my body.“Alyssa…”“Alessandro. Shut up. And kiss me,” I bite out.He pauses for one second.Another.Then, when I twist in my chair, rubbing my legs together against the need at my center, his nostrils flare. He swoops forward, one of his big hands cupping the back of my neck.The kiss, this time, has no restraint.I moan as Alessandro dominates our movements. His hand is on the back of my neck, the other scooping me up as I wrap myself around his body. He unfolds from his kneeling position, his mouth fused to mine, and turns to drop my ass o
Reaching over, she touches the top of my hand. “I know. I appreciate it.” She glances out the glass doors, watching Cullen and Joemar on the terrace, and says, “I used to drink on race days.” When her eyes return to mine, her expression falls. “I struggled to let go of the image of the family I imagined I should have.”How does she see this going? I glance back at Joemar, silently worrying I’m crossing a line I shouldn’t without him. “That can be hard to reconcile.”“Don’t worry, it was reconciled a long time ago. Joemar and I are oil and water. Things are how they should be.” She leans in and whispers, “I’m so glad he found you. You saved his life.”This time I open my mouth, but then close it, thinking about what she said. I always thought he saved me, like on the red carpet. But when I look back over my shoulder, I think she might be right. Joemar didn’t care about anything but Cullen and his career.Now he has a life.I cross the imaginary line and give her a hug. She hesitates at
Madonna Saint Elise POVShrugging, I laugh so softly that I barely even hear it. “I don’t need much to make me happy. You and maybe a Tootsie Pop or some chocolate.”His grin extends, carving into his cheeks as his eyes stay steady on mine. “I’m going to give you the world, Madonna Saint Elise. I’ll buy you a whole candy shop just to see your smile.”“It’s not for me that I want it.” Too subtle?A roguish grin takes over, and his hands lower to my hips, pulling me on top of him. He’s already hard when he shifts my hips forward and back again over his length. “I’m going to spoil you rotten, my love.”The teasing gets the better of me, and I finally kiss him, briefly losing myself in the headiness of being together again. “Good thing I love to be spoiled.” Slipping lower, I take hold of his erection and add, “But I want to go first.” I spoil him with every ounce of my being, making love and making him come so hard, first with my mouth and then with my body. I take every inch of him and
I stare at her, wondering what that text exchange was about if she never wanted to see me again. Frustration sets in as she opens the car door. Still standing in the headlights of the car, I throw my arms out wide. “So that’s it, babe?”With one foot already in the car, she stops and looks at me over the door. “I didn’t wage this war, so it’s not mine to finish.”“But you’re in it.” I come closer. “You’re in the middle of this battle, so you have to fight it.”Both her feet land back on the street, her lips tightening as the fire is lit inside when she stands. “I don’t have to do anything. You didn’t just break my phone. You broke my heart, Jeomar. It’s up to you to fix it.”“I’m trying.”“Try harder.” She slams the door closed. “You think saying sorry is enough. It’s not. I can’t forgive you just because you’re ready to be back in my life. You shifted the blame to me under fears of . . .” Planting her hands on her hips, she says, “I have no idea. I don’t know what happened that day.
Jeomar Russo POV“What the . . .?”Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, I stare at my phone and the message on the screen. My chest aches where my heart used to be, but I rarely feel it anymore even with adrenaline pumping through me.“What is it, Daddy?” Cullen whines, “This is boring.” I’ve heard that a few times over the past two weeks. It was nice to have him for an extended period, but I think he might be sick of his old man.I shove my phone in my back pocket because I can’t reply with my mind going in a million directions and my kid tugging on my hand. I try not to be on my phone as much when I’m with my son, but I can’t stop thinking that I’m imagining the message that just popped up. “It’s not boring. We walk to experience life instead of sitting in the back of a vehicle. Look around, Cullen. What do you see?”While he’s busy trying to spot one of a million differences from the last time we walked this route, I can’t help but wonder why now? Why would Madonna text me out
Madonna Saint Elise POVI rush back to my trailer, swinging the door wide open, and scramble to find the remote.Clicking the TV on, I search the channels until I find P1 racing. I have no idea if I’ve missed Joemar qualifying or if he stayed off the track this week like he should have.“Dumonte. Pace Set. Rogue Automotive.” I gasp when I see Saint Elise on the track. “Who’s in the driver’s seat? Come on. Come on.”“Had their reserve at the paddock this week . . .” The announcer rambles blah blah . . . “Quite the accident . . . lucky to be alive. Back in the saddle. He was cleared, but we’re about to see if he’s recovered.”I don’t know why my heart sinks other than knowing Joemar shouldn’t be out there. What are my brothers thinking?I sit on the couch with my legs tucked under me, clasping my hands together nervously. He was so worried about sitting out a race, but one mistake could cost him his career.“This is the end,” Carlos says, taking a seat on the top step.“We’ve been long
Joemar Russo POVI’m not sure in what—God, his recovery, or that things will work out how they should. I don’t question her because we all handle tragedies differently, but I want to taste that same faith that makes her eyes shine through the tears she’s holding back. “Have you heard anything?” I ask in a whisper, careful not to have Cullen overhear. I’m grasping for any news that will give me the same buoy to hold on to while still finding comfort in her touch.“He’s going to be okay, but they still don’t know the extent of the damage since they didn’t want to cut the layers of his clothes before reaching the hospital. They’re doing that now, separating the fibers from the burns.” Cullen wiggles at her side. She turns to me and says, “I’m going to find him a bathroom.”Cullen comes over and envelops me in his arms. I didn’t know I needed the embrace until I was wrapped in it. A stifled cry chokes me up, and the tears threatening to fall this whole time finally do. I turn into him, hu
Madonna Saint Elise POV“You left me to fend for myself, Lauren.”“I can have security in place by tonight, but you must take some responsibility. You went rogue by having Joemar Russo crash the red carpet like he did.”“I didn’t do anything but arrive like I was told. He showed up because he cared. He knew that I would be walking the carpet alone following Carlos’s engagement announcement.” Even her heavy breath sounds argumentative and rubs me wrong. “I was thrown to the wolves last night, but I’m not going to fight with you. We’re clearly at a crossroads.” Sitting in my trailer alone, I move the steamed zucchini around on my plate, but then stop and set the fork down.I can’t do this. I don’t want to be here.“We’re not. I’m team Madonna. You know I like a plan in place and for it to go smoothly. I apologize for not being there or having staff available for you. I will be there with you next time.”I’m not cold-hearted, but I am upset. I have no idea where we go from here. I just k
Tears fill my eyes, and with no time to find my sunglasses, they fall. A back door is opened and through watery vision, I squeeze through the chaos. The phone in my back pocket buzzes as I climb inside the car. I don’t even care if my suitcase makes it at this point. I tell the driver, “Go. Please go.”How do I go from one of the best nights of my life to dropping my head into my hands and crying?“Are you okay, miss?”“No. I’m not.” I turn to look outside, but something catches my attention in my periphery. I look at the driver again and see him handing me a box of tissues.He says, “I’m sorry. That was awful.”Taking the box, I stare at him. As awful as that was back there, here I’m being offered the kindness of a stranger. “Thank you.” This is what matters. Not people who make more money off upset celebrities or the paparazzi who make a living off provoking someone to capture their worst in a photo. “I appreciate it.”He nods, focusing his attention forward for the remainder of the
Joemar RussoPOVI have connections, so it wasn’t hard to snag a ticket. I’m hoping Madonna will be happy to see me. Everything we have could be ruined by a bad decision. This could be my worst of all time, and that’s an impressive list.Stepping out of the SUV, I straighten my jacket and button it. I don’t dig these events, but I’ve been to enough to know what to do. I’m guided forward to the press and start the game, answering questions and taking photos. The positive about not being announced until arrival is that no one is prepared to talk to you.The downside, they wing it. “The last time we saw you and Madonna Saint Elise to get her, you were holding hands in Miami.” The journalist holds the microphone under my nose and asks, “Are you here to support her as a friend, or is there more between the two of you?”I step back and reply, “She’s a brilliant actress. I’m here to support her and the movie.”Not really into the fame side of things, I start walking ahead until I hear someone