Manfred Russo POV “Today must have been tough for you.”I pull back the covers when Amara starts walking toward the bed. She’s wearing just her panties and seeing that tiny bump of hers sticking over the waistline of them has my cock steel, fucking, hard.“It was awful.”She slides in beside me, snuggling into my chest and looking up at me through her lashes. “Talking about varicose veins and piles over a Caesar salad was not my idea of a fun afternoon. I swear she managed to cram every pregnancy horror story, she’s ever heard, into that hour,” she points out, but soon eases up when I slide my hand into the front of her panties and start rubbing my finger against her clit, she mewls like a satisfied, little kitten. I love the way she gets turned on so easily, and when I start to slowly tease her entrance, she grabs my wrist to hold it steady. “I won’t let you distract me from the conversation we need to have.”She moves quickly, shifting her body so it’s straddling mine.“Now, who's
ONE MONTH LATERAmara Romano POV “Your son grows strong.” Manfred’s housekeeper, Anna, smiles at me as she places the sandwich, she’s made me, on the coffee table. She’s never really spoken to me before, so it comes as a surprise, it's an even bigger shock when she takes a seat beside me and places her palm, flat beside where mine rests on my stomach. “Do you feel him wriggle yet, Miss Amara?”She smiles. “No, the books said it could be any time now, but I don’t feel him yet.” I’m starting to get a little anxious about it. This past month my stomach has gotten much bigger, there is no hiding the fact I’m pregnant, now. We had an appointment with Dr. Jonathan Ferrero last week and heard his heartbeat again, and now I’m desperate to feel him move. “Soon enough.” She taps my bump, lightly, before she gets back up and heads into the kitchen. I look at the sandwich she’s left behind and sigh when I think about eating it. Despite what Dr. Jonathan Ferrero, and the books, have said my nause
Amara Romano POVI notice the bowl of lasagne that I figure is what I left at the dinner table, earlier. I’d managed to persuade Manfred that the salad and four new potatoes, I’d eaten, had filled me, and as tasty as Anna’s home cooking is, it’s not what I’m looking for, now. I find the punnet of strawberries and pull them out, popping one in my mouth as I place them on the counter, and search for more things that appeal to me. I figure whipped cream will come in useful and I check the coast is clear before I take that out, shake it, and spray it directly into my mouth. The satisfaction it brings makes me smile, and after I’ve gotten myself a little collection of random things to experiment with, I hoist my ass up onto the kitchen counter and start to tuck in, using the glow from the open refrigerator door.Strange ideas for the food in front of me start to combine themselves in my head, and I can’t resist dipping my fingers into the pickle jar and pulling one out. The smell doesn’t m
Manfred Russo POV I watch Amara in the reflection of my gym mirror, while I lift the dumbbells in my hands. Since I looked more into the article she was reading, the other day, about the benefits of yoga during pregnancy, I’ve had a mat brought up here so we can do our morning workout together. She looks hot as shit in the training bra and yoga shorts she’s wearing and the bigger her stomach grows, the more I seem to become obsessed with it. I feel a lot more relaxed, now that the list of people Romano’s investigator thought could be a threat to her is dead; even more so now that she seems to have found her appetite, again. I swear that girl finds something new to dip a pickle into every day.“You look real sexy when you're working out.” She stares at me from the other side of the room like a vixen, then abandoning her mat she moves to sit on the weight bench beside me. I love how happy she looks when she leans back on one arm and the hand from her other strokes over her bump. Placin
Amara Romano POV Something is troubling Manfred. I can tell by the way he keeps smiling at me. It’s not like him, and it’s not convincing at all. I take the sparkling water from the stewardess on his private jet and smile at her awkwardly while Manfred fixes the safety belt across my lap like I’m a child. “I am capable of doing that myself you know,” I remind him. “I know, but if I do it, I can be assured that it’s safe.He presses a kiss on my cheek and taps my tummy before looking up at the stewardess. “That will be all,” he dismisses her, taking my hand in his and looking out of the tiny window beside me.“You never mentioned having a jet, or an island.” I try to strike up a conversation in the hope that it might ease his tension, “I don’t visit it often.”His lip curls like he has a nasty taste in his mouth. “My father has an island too…but you already knew that, huh?”I look out the same window and inwardly curse myself when I realize I’m not helping the situation at all.“Your
Amara Romano POV“I can’t.” He shakes his head, straining his neck when he looks up at the ceiling like he’s praying to God to give him the power of resistance.“You won’t hurt me and I promise, if you did, I’d tell you. I just want you to fuck me the way you used to. I miss it and, right now, you need it.”“Amara, I can’t,” he answers through gritted teeth. His fingers starting to become a little less gentle as they fuck me.“Please, Manfred. I need it too.” I hear him growl in frustration when he moves away from the bed, and just when I think he’s going to storm off, he shocks me when he roughly unbuckles his belt. I smile victoriously as I watch him undress and see the harsh threat on his face as he comes back toward me.“You make me go against my better judgment,” he tells me, looking between my legs.“Look at this pussy.” He tilts his head and admires what's laid out in front of him before he forces my knees even further apart. “Weeping so desperately over my bed sheets, throbbin
Amara Romano POV Manfred meant what he said when he told me he’d make our marriage happen, it’s only been five days since he proposed to me at the waterfall, and today the beach is all set up for our private ceremony. Daniel is flying to the island with the marriage certificate he somehow arranged for us, and, since Manfred is insistent that we do things right, he’s bringing a priest with him. I’ve never had him down as the religious type, but I’m a go-with-the-flow kind of girl. “Are you nervous?” Greta asks as she adds a few more pins to my hair.“Not at all, it’s not like there's a lot of people here for me to mess my vows up, in front of.” I smile back at her through the mirror, as she places the pretty, purple orchid among the neat up-do she’s given me.“Oh, sweetheart, marriage is about far more than just the vows. It’s about a love in your heart that overflows. It’s perseverance against all odds. Marriage is not easy. Especially, to a man like Manfred Russo.”She smiles and
Manfred Russo POV “What are you doing out here all alone?” I turn my head away from watching the ocean when I hear her voice come from behind me. I thought she’d be flat-out asleep after all the different ways I’ve made love to her since our guests left the island. “Couldn’t sleep.” I shrug, continuing to watch the waves slide onto the sand and drag back out, again.“We could talk about whatever's on your mind?”She sits down beside me, burying her feet in the sand as I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “Some things are better left unsaid.”I kiss the top of her head and smell her hair, despite the coconut undertone of her shampoo, she smells of me, and I love it. “I disagree, I think whatever it is that’s on your mind would feel much better if you shared it. Are you scared about my father being in Manila?”“I’m not scared of your father, Amara.” I shake my head. “I told you, I’m figuring all that out.”Amara called Steven Romano last week and the fact he hasn’t told her he’s in Man
Cassandra Russo Gallardo POV I never wanted a big wedding. Growing up, I wasn’t the type of girl who dreamed about flowing white dresses, enough flowers to open a florist shop, or exorbitantly expensive multi-tier cakes. I’m perfectly content with what I have—my family in attendance and my man standing proudly at the altar. We’re in a small chapel, tucked away in one of the quieter, more peaceful corners of the city. I’m dressed in the same wedding dress Mom wore when she married Dad, the very same veil on my head. There are no words to describe how honored I am to wear it. I hope one day, I get to pass it on to my own daughter to wear at her wedding, and perhaps even my granddaughter after her. Little things like these, full of sentiment and love, are how traditions are born. Dad and I stand just in front of the main entrance to the chapel. Everyone’s taken their seats, and the music is beginning to swell. I know he had his reservations when I first agreed to marry Thorton, but inst
Thorton Gallardo POV One Month Later Separately, the Russo and Gallardo Mafias are capable of incredible things. They both rule with iron fists and awe-inspiring efficiency. Where the Russo commands the respect of their peers, my brothers and I are tenaciously ambitious. Combined—we’re a force to be reckoned with. We’re only a month into our merger, but all of Italy works like a well-oiled machine. With the Russos’ connections and my transportation network, we’re virtually unstoppable. I don’t think the criminal underworld has ever seen a more impressive organization. With Leo running the numbers, Samuel enforcing our laws, Roman negotiating our deals, and Damien keeping his ear to the ground for any whispers of dissent, we have the entire city under our thumbs.But right now, the last thing I want to think about is work. Zandra, unfortunately, has other plans. “Remind me to ask Samuel to pay the Southern Administrative District a visit. A couple of businesses haven’t been paying ki
Zandra Russo POV I only have so much time. Before long, my baby bump will begin to show, and then the jig is up. I need to figure out how to break the news to Dad without sending him into full-on cardiac arrest. My decision is final, though, no matter what he or the rest of my family has to say. I’m keeping this baby, and I’m going to protect him or her with every fiber of my being. Do I think Dad might disown me when he learns the truth? Probably not. He’s always been a level-headed guy. I doubt he’d do anything so drastic… But that doesn’t stop me from coming up with a Plan B, C, and D—just in case. I’m just about to pull out my phone to look up some rudimentary information on what mothers should expect when I hear a strange sound coming from outside. The screech of car tires, angry shouting. My heart automatically leaps into my throat and lodges there. Oh, God. Are we under attack? All this excitement and paranoia can’t possibly be good for the baby. My little brother comes hobbli
Thorton Gallardo POV Half of Italy belongs to the Gallardo Mafia. I should be over the moon. I’m anything but. “We’re seeing staggering profits,” Leo tells me from the other side of my desk. One of his detailed spreadsheets is pulled up on his tablet.“We’ve had next to no resistance from the remaining Russo in the area. They’ve all but fled to the north of the city. The raid left them scrambled, but I don’t think now is the time to keep pushing. There’s still a heavy police presence in the area.” “Sure,” I mumble. I’m only half listening, partially because I know Leo’s got everything under control, and partially because I can’t bring myself to care. It’s almost cruel how we have everything we want, yet I have nothing I need. “The taxi business practically runs itself at this point,” Leo goes on. “Since Detective Rossi, uh, passed, there’s been no reason for the police to keep sniffing around. He was the only one who could link us to our criminal interests, and it doesn’t look like
Zandra Russo POV I’m bedridden for what feels like an eternity. Aunt Natalya keeps telling me it’s frankly a miracle I survived. Very few can take a bullet through the chest and live to tell the tale. It’s nothing short of divine intervention. But even if I did have the energy to get out of bed, I wouldn’t. A heavy fog clouds my mind, and it has nothing to do with the pain meds I’m on. I can’t stop thinking about Thorton. I can barely even think of his name without pins and needles stinging my eyes. No matter what I do, no matter how much time has passed, I can’t bring myself to accept he’s dead. The lives we lead are dangerous ones. Death and injury is an accepted workplace hazard. I just didn’t think it would actually happen.“Come on, Zandy,” Alessandra whispers at my bedside. There’s a bowl of chicken noodle soup on her lap. It’s all I’ve been able to stomach lately. Everything else makes me feel barfy. “You should eat something,” Mom adds softly. She’s seated on the other side o
Thorton Gallardo POV If obsession is a disease, then I’m sick and suffering. My waking thoughts bounce back and forth between Zandra and Rossi, trapping me in a never-ending cycle of cause and effect. I can’t stop thinking about her, about how cold and small she was in my arms as the lights faded from her eyes. My chest tightens at the realization that I’ll never get to kiss her again or speak to her again. Rossi has to pay—he has to. Tracking the man down this time is a whole lot easier. He’s paraded around like a damn war hero, showing up for interviews and public award ceremonies. I lie in wait, watching from the back of the crowd, dressed in an unassuming pair of jeans, a black sweatshirt, and a baseball cap. The hood’s drawn over to obscure my face. A whole line of TV cameras is here, along with nosy reporters and a handful of uniformed cops. I can’t just approach him. I may want vengeance, but I’m not suicidal. This place is too public, too many witnesses. I need to bide my tim
Thorton Gallardo POV Pulling up to the Russo’s private residence is practically begging for immediate execution, but I have no other options. I need to see Zandra, need to know she’s okay—even if it kills me. The place is swarming with armed guards, all of them training their weapons on us as the car screeches to a halt in front of the house.The moment I jump out, at least four of them barrel toward me. I came fully prepared for the beating of my life, but what happens next is so much worse.“Stand down!” Manfred Russo shouts at his men. They do so, snapping to attention as he trudges down the front path, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles are white. I see so much of Zandra in him. And that’s why I don’t react when he winds back and punches me in the jaw. I stumble to the ground, my ear ringing and my face throbbing. I deserved it. I deserve all of it. I will accept it. I see no point in fighting back. Even if I wanted to, Manfred Russo is almost three times my age. There’s no
Zandra Russo POV I awake with a start. There’s a blinding, throbbing pain in my chest, just below my left shoulder. I can’t make sense of my surroundings. Everything’s too loud, too bright. Confusion makes the room spin and fear makes my blood run cold. What just happened? How did I get here?“Easy, Zandy,” Aunt Natalya says as she hooks me up to a blood bag. O-positive, according to the sticker slapped on the front. “It was a high caliber round, so the bullet went right through you. You lost a lot of blood, but you’re lucky it missed all your important organs. Four inches lower and it would have pierced your heart.” Aunt Natalya is speaking perfectly clearly, but I don’t understand a word coming out of her mouth. Is it because of the shock? The pain? Probably both. I groan.“What happened?” “Relax, sweetheart,” Dad says. He’s at my bedside, his brows steepled together in grave concern. My uncles are here. So are Mom Amara, Alessandra, and Jovito. It’s a miracle my room is big enoug
Thorton Gallardo POV I don’t need to be an expert in reading body language to know tensions are running high. This is a public meeting—as is the tradition—hosted in a restaurant that’s been completely booked out. The lighting is dim. Armed men are everywhere. They don’t just belong to the Russo, but to the other families I’ve managed to piss off, as well. Why couldn’t we have done this in the back of some dingy room? Because this is a show of good faith, of honor, an unspoken code of conduct. There is nowhere to hide here, no secrets to be kept…which is exactly how I know everyone in this room hates my guts and they’re itching to reach for their guns and show it. Zandra—gorgeous, beautiful, fierce Zandra—sits at the head of the table. Her father and her uncles stand behind her like silent stone sentries. Around the table, the other Mafia heads sit. Some faces are familiar. Others are not. They all have one thing in common, though, and it’s the way they all stare daggers at me and my