Matteo's PovI wake up early with a feeling of an unexplainable joy, and when I feel my wife’s warm body molded into mine, her face looking relaxed and at peace as she clings onto me in her sleep, that unexplainable feeling of joy expands more at my heart. I gently brush a strand of hair out of her face, and she stirs, smiling.That beautiful smile."Good morning," she whispers, her voice husky."Buongiorno, bella," I reply, my voice low and husky. I lean in, kissing her softly. She tastes like sleep and sweetness. And like me.I linger on her lips, feeling my heart swell with love. I glance at her belly, rounding out her nightgown. Our little one is growing, and I can't wait to meet them.“How are you feeling this morning, Tesoro mio?” I ask as I bury my face into the crook of her neck, inhaling a deep breath, my arms tightening around her.She hums lovingly, the palm of her hand coming to rest on top of the back of my palm. “I feel so good, Matteo. A little tired, a little sore, but
Matteo's PovWe spend a few more hours at the hospital, breezing in and out of one observation room to another. And in all the hours we spend at the hospital, all my wife does is talk my ears off about how upset she is with me for not disclosing the details of the surprise I have for her.I love the woman, but she can be infuriating and wearisome when she wants to be.After the checkup, I dismiss my men to head back to the estate, seeing how I’d like to enjoy a more private time with my wife without those brooding men hovering over us like some spy birds.I open the passenger’s side for her to get in, bowing my head like her very own private chauffeur. That’s exactly what I am, putting in consideration how many rides I’ve taken her on.Get your mind out of the gutters, Matteo Denaro.When I get into the driver’s side, my mouth part for words, but Mirabella put her hand up, stopping me from speaking even before I get the chance. “If whatever you intend to say has nothing to do with you
Matteo's PovA few days later.Blood has always been a constant factor in my life. From the earliest years of my life that I can remember, up until now, it has never been unknown to me.Shedding and spilling blood whenever I see fit has become a part of me, and I've learned to welcome it with open arms.And I don’t just welcome it unwillingly, I am so willing to do whatever it takes to spill as much blood as I can. It’s an act which I enjoy so much so I don’t feel at ease when I haven’t indulged.My hands are bloody, my eyes tightly narrowed, bottom lip caught between my teeth as I stare at my wife’s father in contemplation.The old man is on the floor, several parts of his body bleeding out, his throat eliciting pained and sorrowful whimpers, and his eyes rolling to the back of his head—an indication that he’s slowly drifting into the depths of darkness. Death.“Fuck,” I whisper frustratedly, my gaze shifting from the old man to Alessio who also has a regretful expression etched on hi
Mirabella's PovMonths later.I'm huddled in the kitchen with my husband, whispering and giggling like conspirators. We're planning a surprise party for our twins, Mariano and Mariana.A party to celebrate their sixth birthday.It’s been months since my children turned six, but I was skeptical about throwing a party for them for several reasons.First, my son doesn’t exactly like being surrounded by lots of people. He in-fact only enjoys the company of his sister and I do not wish to trigger him by forcing him out of his natural habitat.Secondly, our worst enemy, my father, was roaming free and devising several means to harm my family. I didn’t want to have us all in one place where he could easily hurt us.Now, he’s dead; hence, we’re throwing an intimate party for the kids."Okay, so we've got the cake, the decorations, and the games," I say, ticking off each item on my list. "What about the guest list?"Matteo replies, "Just family and close friends. We want to keep it intimate."
Matteo's PovI sit beside my son, holding him close as he trembles in my arms. The party chaos fades into the distance, leaving only the two of us in this quiet room.Minutes tick by, and I search for the right words to say. But what can I say to ease his pain? To make him feel safe again?I look down at him, his eyes still closed, his small chest rising and falling with each breath. My heart swells with love and compassion."Mariano, mio figlio," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "My son, I'm here for you. I'm always here for you."He doesn’t speak. The silence stretches out, but I don't fill it. I let him know that I'm present, that I'm not going anywhere.Slowly, his trembling subsides, and he opens his eyes. They're red-rimmed, but they lock onto mine, searching for reassurance."I'm sorry, Papa," he whispers, his voice cracking.I pull him closer, my heart breaking. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Mariano. You're perfect just the way you are.""Papa. . .but I don't know what
Mirabella's PovMonths later.I stand by the glass window, a beautiful smile etched to my face as I watch my husband and children interact in such a soul touching manner.After the events at the twins' birthday months ago, Matteo and I made a decision to move to Rome for a little while in order for us to give our full focus to our growing children.The house he purchased for us here in Rome is elegant, modern, small, and intimate. We decided to go for something smaller because we wanted a place that allows us to be closer to our kids, not a house that keeps us so far apart from one another.Matteo is chasing the children around the garden and they’re both laughing out their lungs as they tease him.My heart warms with a smile, my hands cradling my now huge bump.As though he notices my eyes on him, he stops chasing the kids and looks up at me. He waves at me, his face beaming with a smile. I chuckle and blow kisses at him.He grabs his chest, acting like someone shot with a love arrow
Matteo's PovI can recount the number of times when my wife was so happy the child in her surfaces. And the happiness and joy she feels today is worthy to be taken note of.She’s all flustered, her chest heaving, her face wide with a huge grin, and her eyes locked on the shiny ring around her finger.As I drive us back to our home, I feel a sense of fulfillment, of joy, knowing that I’m the reason my woman can’t stop herself from expressing her profound joy.“I still can’t believe this. . .oh my gosh!” She shrieks, slapping her hands over her thighs. I snort a laugh, shaking my head at her cuteness. She's like a kid on Christmas morning, her eyes sparkling with excitement.“You’re gonna wear it out if you keep staring at it, baby,” I say in an attempt to gain her undivided attention."Matteo, just look at it! Isn't it stunning?" She asks for the umpteenth time, waving her hand in front of me.I chuckle and take her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "It's beautiful, amore. Almost as be
Mirabella's PovIn my younger days, my mother made it a point to make me feel like a princess. She’d dress me up, doll me up, making sure I felt as content, beautiful, seen, and happy as possible.“You’re a princess, my love, and all princesses always have their wish granted to them. All you have to do when you want something is to wish upon it and it’ll all be yours. You deserve all the best life has to offer,” she’d say.I didn’t believe her.And the tragic events of my life were enough reasons not to believe her.But today, as I stand by the grand door of the St. Peter’s Basilica Rome, with my daughter by the right side of me, and my son by the left side of me, both of them holding my hands and ready to lead me down the aisle where I’ll once again exchange my vows with their father, this time in truth and from the depth of my heart, I now have an understanding of what my mother used to say to me.As my husband comes into view, holding our eight month old babbling daughter to his ch
Mariana’s PovDay three on the Island.I know, I skipped day two. But honestly, nothing much was done. Day one was packed with so many intense activities that I could barely use my limbs by the second day. So, I laid in bed all day with Alejandro. We did nothing but lie in silence and listen to each other’s breaths for hours on end.That was enough.And that brings us to the third day, today. I really can’t say for sure what I did during the day, but it’s already thick into the night, and we’re outside—Alejandro, his men, and myself.A bonfire party.The bonfire snaps and crackles, sending sparks into the night sky. Around it, Alejandro’s men sit on makeshift seats, laughing and drinking as if the weight of their lives isn’t hanging over them. The flames cast long shadows across their faces, softening some, sharpening others. I sit off to the side, my arms wrapped around my knees, watching but not really seeing. The heat from the fire reaches me, but it doesn’t chase away the chill
Mariana’s Pov“Why did you bring me here?”My voice is accusing as I ask the question, my eyes tight, void of emotions. Alejandro’s Adam's apple bobs, an indication that a thick lump just slid down his throat.Then he smiles. He doesn’t know it, but the smile seems forced. “I’ve told you a million times, Mariana,” he says, his tone firm, robotic, “I want us to live freely for at least one week.”And that’s how I know he’s lying.Alejandro might be dangerous, but he has a casual persona. The type of man to wear a matching set of sweat shirt and pants in a room full of formally dressed men. The type of man to pull a trigger with a smile on his face. But his sudden seriousness when I ask my question is enough to sell him out. He’s suddenly defensive, and when one becomes defensive, something is amiss.“Cut the crap,” I murmur, my voice inaudible.“What was that?” Alejandro’s voice is low, sharp. It cuts through the air like a blade. His eyes are on mine, waiting, daring me to answer.I
Alejandro’s PovEating is done, and the basket is discarded to the side, leaving enough space for Mariana and I to share in each other’s warmth.We’re lying beside each other, finger interlocked, our gazes faced towards the sky. We revel in the silence, feel the depth of our connection without actually speaking.And it surprises me how Mariana is so receptive to this newness, to this softness.The intensity of her beauty, the authority in her words, and even her gracefulness will have anyone who doesn’t truly know her believing that she’s such a tough woman who has no emotions.Lies.She’s just as soft hearted, and she craves gentility.The night is still, the sound of the waves the only thing breaking the quiet. I’m staring up at the sky again, but I can’t help it—my mind keeps drifting back to her.What does she feel about me? What does she feel now that we have our finger locked, and our eyes faced towards the same direction?I roll onto my side, propping myself up on my elbow so I
Alejandro’s PovDay one on the Island.I jerk awake to heat, my muscles straining. Mariana’s body is perfectly molded into mine, her mass of dark, silky hair falling over my chest.A feeling of satisfaction fills my heart and I kiss the back of her head.She groans, and shifts back, wanting to disappear into me. But she wakes something else. Her ass locks around my growing bulge and a strained grunt escapes in my throat.“Shit, baby,” my voice comes out gruff, “you need to move a little.”I go to gently push her legs when she suddenly arches her back into me, causing my hand to land between her thighs. She moans.Fuck me.I move my hand, my fingertips grazing the skin of her inner thigh. She stirs, a small cry eliciting in her throat. I can’t tell if she’s fully awake, but her breathing is too uneven for someone who is still asleep. My hand squeezes her thigh, waiting for her to stop me. She doesn’t. I take that as a sign to continue. The hand buried between her thighs travels furth
Mariana’s PovWe’ve had quite the journey, moving from flying, to riding in the back of a truck, and now, we’re boarding a boat.I have no complaints.This somewhat reminds me of my days of active duty, the days when I was going on dangerous missions. The feeling is exhilarating.“You can’t keep ignoring me, my lady,” Alejandro’s whiny voice resounds beside me. And it warms my heart. Still, I sidestep him and make my way into the boat.I sit in the plush leather seat, feeling the warmth of the sun-kissed leather envelop me. The boat's engines roar to life, and we set out, gliding across the turquoise waters, leaving the world behind.I inhale and exhale a breath, calming my heart.My hair whips back, the strands dancing in the ocean breeze. I laugh, feeling carefree, alive. The wind carries the sweet scent of saltwater and the faint hint of Alejandro's cologne. I throw my head back and breathe a relieved sigh. The blue of the ocean catches my eyes. The shininess of it, the glow cast
Alejandro’s PovResistance. That’s all I see in her eyes. She’s fighting her pleasure—a war between her flesh and her mind. And I’ll tell you for sure that the flesh will always win.My face buries deeper, my tongue swirling around her bud. Her skin tightens, but she holds back her voice.“Let go, baby. . .Let go. . .” I urge, my tongue pushing into her entrance, curling. She doesn’t budge. I push a finger into her, and another, and another, and another. I curl all three fingers and she lets out a cry.“There you go,” I praise, “there you fucking go. . .”And then I’m fucking her recklessly with my fingers and my tongue. She cries harder, her body jerking. Her sweet, melodious voice draws a moan out of me. And suddenly, it’s no longer a fight of pleasure.She’s full on fighting me.I see how much my words affect her, but I know it’s not just about the words. It’s the confirmation. She always has been curious to know if I hold a grudge against her over what transpired between our pare
Mariana's Pov“It was you?” I ask, unsure, “the soldier who stole from the family?”“Bingo,” he smiles broadly, “we’re going to have a blast, baby.”I lean back into my seat and allow my brain fall into silence and calmness for a moment. Just a few minutes. And then laughter erupts in my throat.My chest quakes with the frequency of my laugh, tears gathering at the corners of my eyes.“You’re a fucking genius aren’t you?” I ask, cackling, “all that calmness you exude, all that patience and endurance. . .you had it all figured out.”Alejandro’s eyes are on me, observing, careful. The movement of his arm is slow, deliberate as he puts his gun down.“You’re not mad at me?” He asks.I tip my head to the side, my teeth diving my bottom lip, nibbling sensually. Alejandro throws his hips in the air, a small grunt resounding low in his throat.“Is there a reason to be angry?” I ask and wait.He hesitates for a moment before tucking his gun away. And that’s when I strike. He doesn’t see me com
Mariana's Pov“It was you who put him in that state after all. How did you do it, Maria, huh? Was it the cookies you couldn't stop serving him? Or your special teas? How the fuck did you, right under our noses, succeed in reducing Don Vladimr Zakone Vaslav to a vegetable?”My brows twitch and a muscle feathers in my jaw. I throw my back against the backrest and heave out a sigh, my eyes locking with his.“I’m still waiting, Mariana,” Alejandro presses. He tries to sound serious, but I notice the slight upturn of the corner of his mouth and the look of awe in his eyes.He’s not angry.Good.Perhaps he is but is exceptionally good at concealing it: the logical part of my mind warns.My brows twitch. “Mind your business, Alejandro,” I mutter, my tone bored.His chuckle rumbles. “Your business is my business, amore mio,” he replies, “especially when my name was mentioned. “And that mad son of yours, his punishment will be doubled for ever putting hands on Alejandro. . .” I didn’t think a
Mariana's Pov“My love should be enough for the both of us, Mariana.”His words shake me to the core. And what shakes me more is the emotion swirling in those orbs of his. Why won’t he get angry at me?Why won’t he scream at me? Do something that shows me how much I drive him to the point of anger?“You’re a fool,” I mutter, a hand raking through my hair. “Come get my bags, soldier!” I command. A smile coats his lips as he approaches. He picks up my bags as though they weigh nothing and then he turns around, intending to exit the room.The door creaks open and Radimr walks in, his eyes on me, tender. He flashes me a smile and I mirror his smile.Huffing out an angry breath, Alejandro storms out of the room. But he doesn’t leave—he stands by the door, his eyes peeking through the small space.He watches as his brother’s arms envelope me in a hug, he watches how I reciprocate that hug with so much enthusiasm. His eyes cloud over with rage. And then Radimr’s mouth crashes on mine, rava