Mirabella's PovAm I truly living? Or am I yearning for death in order to truly live?Is a question that I've continuously asked myself for years.I live because death is promised.Through the promise of death, I breathe.Through the promise of death, I yearn for the ability to truly live.When I'm faced with death, I expect it to be the happiest day of my life. Almost like finally seeing your long, lost friend.I hope for death's embrace to be soft and warm, to make me feel like I'm at home—the home I've always been in search of for as long as I can remember.Sincerely, I've become very impatient as I await death's call upon me. So, I remind myself with each passing day that I am one day closer to being faced with death.And today is that day.When against all opposition, I'm adorned in a leather body tight jumpsuit, fully strapped with guns and blades, ready to take on the bastards who were brave enough to abduct my daughter.We all file out—men and women trained for war.It's with h
Mirabella's Pov"No." I state my answer with a tone of finality. My husband scoffs, his head bobbing a few times. His tongues darts out and swipes across his teeth."Till death do us part."Those are the words that flow through the air before another side to my husband is activated. He runs through the rain of bullets, doing his very best to protect himself until he's gotten to our daughter.With one swift motion, he sweeps her off her feet and with the same speed, he runs like his life depends on how fast his legs move.It does, technically.A smile coats my lips when they reach me, a choked sob escaping the back of my throat when my princess hugs into me.I bask in the joy of having my daughter back in my arms that I don't realize my husband has walked back into the battlefield, this time without his vest nor his guns.He throws his hands into the air in a surrender, as if inviting death.I push my daughter aside and stumble, repeated screams escaping my throat."No! No! No! No! No
Mirabella's Pov"Because I loved you, dinnazione!"It's a declaration. One made with a strained voice, staggered breath, and a hesitant heart.Time stills. I blink, my blink slow—too slow, as though my grip on sanity is lost.Certain events are impossible to prevent.For years, decades even, it has been a known fact. Certain events cannot be prevented, but a knowing of its occurrence ensures that we are properly prepared for when those events does occur.With Ares, my eyes were opened wide, my ears listening, intent to comprehend the signs by observation.The manner at which he stared at me, smiled at me, took care of me, provided me with companionship—I wanted to comprehend.Foolish of me to assume.I was too much of a coward to have demanded clarity.He was too much of a coward to have come forward, and clean about how he truly felt.And now, we're put in a difficult situation.Now, I'm in disbelief.When did it happen?How did it happen?How possible was it that Ares harbored feeli
Mirabella's PovI did it.I won, didn't I?Then why do I feel so hollow? Why do I feel like I've lost? Why do I feel like a failure?Have I truly won, or have I dug the dark hole deeper than it was?I have always gotten love like poison, even from my own family. With my mother, loving me even when she couldn't love herself. Holding my hands even when she couldn't hold her own hand. Saving my life even when she couldn't save herself.Her love was poison.Then my sister. It would be better if we remained enemies, it would be better if she died my rival, but no, she had to show me a weakness. She showed me that in all of her hatred, there was still love for me, stored somewhere in her heart.In her last minutes, I witnessed that love. And that love too, was poison.With my family, their love is a poison of guilt. The guilt, like venom, seeps into my bloodstreams, taking hostage every breath, every blink, every word, every emotion—the entirety of my being.My inability to properly look my
Mirabella's PovI am stuck alone.Words whispered through tears, one which forged an uncommon bond with my own self. A lifeline that has kept me anchored.I have lived alone.Strived alone.Survived alone.Me against me.Me for me.Wrong.I have a family, a complete family. My husband, my children, my mother in-law, my sister in-law, friends, well wishers, soldiers, business associates.I am constantly surrounded by love.Life is good.Do you want to know what else is good? The. . ."What might my beautiful wife be seriously thinking about?" Wet kisses meet my neck. I moan at the warmth of his tongue gliding down my neck line."Do you never get tired?"My husband hums, his teeth nibbling my skin. "Perhaps stay in bed for as long as seven months and tell me if it doesn't build your sexual stamina."Chuckling, I say, "You're unserious.""I'm seriously horny.""Crazy." I joke.My husband hums. "For you.""I'm busy. I have. . .we have a job to finish.""Let me finish inside you first."I
Matteo's PovI wake to heat.My wife’s body, perfectly molded into mine, her mass of dark hair cascading over my chest, warms my heart.But it warms somewhere else, a place that sends an ache down to my core, causing my briefs to tighten.I kiss the back of my wife’s head, my arms around her waist tightening protectively while I pull her further into me as though if I let go even for a second, I’d lose her.It wouldn’t be so far fetched, losing my wife that is. It seems something I am too perfect in—I either drive her away, or my baggages would do the job for me.Except, this time has to be different, I want to show her that we could always be a normal couple, a normal family.We can always wake up to a peaceful day, have a good laugh, and still be the wicked entities we are.My hands are now wandering, my fingers trailing the line that runs across her ribs to the curve of her waist.She stirs, a small cry of a whimper eliciting in her throat.I don’t stop moving my hands. The left on
Matteo's PovIt’s date night with my wife and I cannot begin to explain the tremendous joy it brings me, knowing that in a few hours, I’d be sitting alone with my very beautiful wife, doing something we never deemed possible.My lips stretch into a smile as I watch her glam herself. Tight on her skin, accentuating her curves is a pretty silky dress. The color lilac. It signifies our growing love.“You’re absolutely gorgeous, mama,” I whisper, striding towards her in gentle steps. Her smile widens at me through the mirror, her beautiful mismatched orbs shining with excitement.I move her hair to one side of her neck and trail my fingertips across the exposed skin of her back, reaching for her zipper. “Makes me think if this date is even worth it.”She chuckles, her face flaming up like a teenager with a crush.Our eyes meet and a thick feeling forms in my chest. She’s breathtaking. Jesus. How can anyone be so breathtaking?“You’re staring, Matteo.” She comments, smacking my thigh.“Wou
Matteo’s PovMy eyes flutter as I kiss up her skin, a feeling of satisfaction filling my heart so much so a small whimper escapes from my throat while I taste her skin.My wife, she does something to me, something extraordinary. She brings me to my knees at will, knowingly and unknowingly, literally and metaphorically.She’s all I’ve ever needed. All I’ve ever searched for. And when I gaze up at her while my tongue merges with her skin, I realize that this predicament is suffered by the both of us.I ruin her as much as she ruins me.It makes me smile.My hands slip underneath her dress and find the waist of her underwear, pulling the stretchy material over her thighs until it pools at her ankles.I suck in a breath.I have seen my wife many times and in many different ways, but each time, it seems as though I am a blind man awarded an opportunity of a clear eyesight the first time in his life.It excites me to see my wife. It excites me to know that such an amount of wetness pools ou