Alyssa Russo’s POVI have no idea what to do with this change.Having Alessandro de Rossi in the mansion is worse than being here alone.I feel like I’m living with a tiger.When he’s around, the air is different. It’s charged, like before a storm. I know that I’m not the only person who feels it, because the staff moves differently around Brady.For one, people appear out of the woodwork to do his bidding. I had no idea that the estate had a garden staff, for example, until Alessandro appeared on the scene.The trees outside have never looked better.I have a feeling that the entire estate isn’t on the beach, as I had previously thought, but somewhere inland. Florida is a mess of bogs and muggy little spots that no one can find you, and the people who work for families like mine know this very well.There’s more than one body buried in the belly of a gator, that’s for sure.It’s been about a week since Alessandro appeared, and I’ve settled into another routine. Mostly, it involves av
Alessandro de Rossi POV I have never put too much thought into being a father. I assumed it was something that would happen with the natural progression of time. Truthfully, I don’t know anything about children. Few of the men who work for me have children yet, and if they do, they keep their families far from their work. In theory, I always knew that I would have to produce children, but in actuality, I have never pursued this.Not with anyone except…The memory of Alyssa, Alyssa, beneath the trees at our engagement party, flashes in my mind.We didn’t use protection. Catherine had been a virgin, and the odds of her getting pregnant on her very first time felt so incredibly low as to be negligible. I shut my eyes and remembered how she had smiled at me.How she had said if she did have a child with me, she would be happy that they would grow up surrounded by so much family.How my world would be their nanny, and how they would be so loved.Does my daughter know that she has a father?
By the time we touchdown somewhere outside of Newark, my heart is in my throat, and I regret all of the chicken that I managed to stomach earlier.What if something happened to her?I’m sure that Alessandro has been talking to Nico, the man on the phone who is clearly his highest ranking guy on the ground. I’m desperate to know what he’s found.Whether or not it’s Anne and Nonna Mia who live on the burned down farm.The plane finally stops on the runway, and the engines are powering down when I see two big black cars drive up.One of their doors opens.And a familiar small shape emerges.I don’t care about anything else at that point. I move like a robot, my body making decisions that I am not consciously aware of.The stairs aren’t even fully descended when I’m on them. My feet hit the pavement, the chill of New Jersey biting into my skin, and I run to my child.Anne’s eyes, that look so much like Brady’s light up. “Mommy!”“My baby,” I gasp. I kneel down and she’s running for me too
She’s like a mongoose or a honey badger. She likes to dance and tease, and she’s deadly, but she’s never angry with what she does. Nothing seems to slip underneath her playful façade, even though there’s a predator underneath.Amara is angry now.“Amara…”She holds up a hand. “Your funeral, brother.”Then, she walks over to Alyssa.The rest of the flight, she and Alyssa talk. They look at Anne, they help her to the bathroom. They give her snacks and make her laugh. When Anne laughs, sounds more pure than the clearest of bells.It’s adorable.My daughter.She looks like me. Well, specifically, she looks like Amara, who I have memories of at that age. Her hair is long and curly, tamed into a braid by my sister and Alyssa. Her eyes look like Amara’s, but where Amara’s have always been full of mischief.Her childhood has been good. I just know it.Alyssa has done a wonderful job with her.As the flight progresses, I realize there’s truth to Amara’s words. I need to figure out my place in
A woman in a housekeeper’s uniform sprints out of the house. She looks to be somewhere in the late 60s, early 70s range, but I could have no idea. There’s a smile on her face that’s a mile wide, and I can’t help but return it.She’s babbling in Italian a mile a minute as she runs (actually runs) down to where Anne and I are standing. My Italian being what it is, I only get about every fourth word, but from what I gather, she’s the housekeeper that’s been with the de Rossi kids for a long time, and she’s beyond thrilled to have Anne here.“Um. Thank you?”Her bright green eyes turn to me, and her face wrinkles into an even bigger smile. I stand stock still as she grabs my face and layers even more kisses on my cheeks.Continuing to pour rapid fire Italian on me, she grabs me by the elbow and drags me into the house.Meekly, I follow.She may not be related to Alessandro and Amara, but in my heart, I know that being welcome like that can’t be a bad thing.Maybe I’ll have an ally to find
The endearment slips out. I can’t help it. Alyssa gives me a look that could cut glass, but I ignore it. Bambina isn’t an endearment that’s specific to fathers and children. Francesca called Anne Bambina just earlier, so I don’t feel too bad about it.Alyssa huffs, clearly upset.If you give me something, I’ll give you something. I silently will her to remember our arrangement. If she grants me this ability to use a tiny endearment on my own child, then I will give her something she wants. I do not know what that is. But if she grants me this, I will also grant her something.Alyssa seems to consider me. Her eyes are narrow with suspicion, and I pretend not to care.Anne is eating the cornetti, staring at the two of us.“April thirteenth.”The words are so quiet, it takes me nearly a minute to process that they were meant for me. “Pardon?” I look at Alyssa.“Her birthday. April thirteenth.”I blink. “That is so close.”“Yes, I’ll be six!” Anne chimes in, holding up six Nutella-covered
We’re quiet for a minute. The air smells like lemons, which I assume comes from the blossoming lemon trees in huge pots lining the pool.Amara sighed, rotating so she’d lie on her stomach. “What’s it like having multiple siblings?”“Um…” I’m not sure how to answer that. “It’s fine?”“Okay, let me get more specific. What’s it like to have three brothers? One is plenty for me, so I’m not sure how you managed.”I laugh. “Well, it’s mostly like having… three brothers. Joemar Russo was so much older than me, by the time I was old enough to remember him he was just a cool older brother figure who protected me but he wasn’t like a playmate.“Dante was always in trouble, and Enzo and I are only ten months apart, so we’re the closest. I’d say it’s probably similar to having one brother but… three more times.”Amara makes a face. “Ew. No, thank you. Alessandro is plenty.”That makes me and I turn to look at her. “You said Brady had to grow up fast. Did you mean after…”I can’t bring myself to s
Alessandro de Rossi POVShe giggles, a scarlet blush coloring her cheeks in such a pretty way, it makes my cock twitch. “Okay, well, since I’ve already made this awkward, I have to ask. How do you get your chest hair to look… like that?”“Like what, Alyssa?” I purr.I want to know what she sees when she looks at me.“You know. Like um… so… well okay it looks good.” She throws up her hands in frustration.I huff a soft laugh. “You wish to know about how I groom myself?”“Yes. No. Oh my god.” She puts her head in her hands. “No. I don’t want to know.”“Why don’t you see for yourself,” I whisper.Before I can stop myself with my own thoughts, I untuck my shirt. I unbutton it quickly, relishing Alyssa’s eyes as they linger on my fingers.When I take the dress shirt off, she sucks in a breath quickly.“What do you think, Alyssa?” My voice is barely a whisper.“Um. I… Um…” she mumbles.I step closer. “I think for an inspection, you may require a little closer look.”I’m not even sure what I
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