Page 87 of Unforgivable Ties

As the waves of pleasure subsided, I collapsed onto her. My hands ran along her body; at this point, they were so familiar I had it memorized by touch.

“I love you,” I whispered into her ear.

It was something I’d never thought I’d hear myself say. But as the words slipped from my lips, they felt as natural as breathing, as crucial to me as the beat of my heart.

Her breath hitched at my confession, her lips parting in surprise. Her eyes, the color of autumn leaves, held mine captive, her heart pounding against my chest.

“I love you, too,” she said, tears pooling at the corner of her eyes.

I kissed her again, the taste of her tears mixing with the familiar taste of her lips.

“But what does Cara Mia mean?” she asked, tilting her head in the cutest way.

I laughed, and finally translated all the words of adoration I had been hiding from her.

Stephanie

Iwas in that stage of sleep where I wasn’t fully conscious of the world going on around me. The past few days, it had been uncomfortable, and I had woken up feeling empty on Jessica’s sofa. Today, I was wrapped in a warm cocoon.

Vincenzo’s arms, I realized as I joined the world of the living. God, I had missed him so much. Being here felt so right, so familiar. His scent, an intoxicating mix of earthy woods and spicy aftershave, filled my senses as I burrowed further into his embrace. His heartbeat under my cheek was a steady lullaby that threatened to draw me back into the sweet abyss of sleep.

My heart did a little flip-flop when I thought of the previous night. He loved me. It was something I thought I’d never hear come out of the brutal mafia member’s mouth, but he had said it. Rough with emotion, those three words had slipped from his lips like a prayer whispered in the quiet sanctuary of the night.

And I loved him, too. More than I had ever dared to admit to myself. More than I thought it was possible to love another person. It was an all-consuming, soul-stirring love that was as terrifying as it was thrilling.

I traced my fingers over the arc of his well-defined biceps, remembering the way he had held me throughout the night. His grip was firm but gentle, each touch laden with a promise of protection and affection. I craved the low timbre of his voice saying my name, the way it rang like a melody in my ears. I wanted to hear him say those three words again, just to assure myself last night wasn’t a dream.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice thick with sleep.

“Morning,” I said, snuggling into his chest.

We laid in silence for a while, the only sound being the soft rhythm of his heartbeat and the distant chirping of birds heralding the dawn outside. His thumb idly traced circles on my back, sending shivers down my spine. The feeling of being here, right now, surrounded by Vincenzo’s warmth, was pure bliss.

“I need to ask you something serious,” he murmured, breaking the comfortable silence. His voice was low, a rumbling vibration that resonated in his chest and echoed in my ears. He shifted slightly, resettling me more securely in his embrace.

I lifted my head from his chest, meeting his gaze with a curious look.

“Do you want to stop working for us? Forget what Cesare said; I would find a way to get you out.”

Stop working in the warehouse? At this point, it was more than just a job for me; it was a part of my life. Patching up the hurt mafiosos and saving their lives because no hospital would take them without asking questions. It was a cruel paradox; I healed those who caused harm, but I also gave them lives they may not have had otherwise.

But I loved it. Working with Cesare in the old, unsuspecting warehouse, helping everyone out.

“I actually missed it,” I said, my cheeks turning pink. “When I was watching Dr. Malden perform surgery, all I couldthink about was how much more I preferred working at the warehouse.”

Vincenzo’s eyebrows shot up, surprise casting a shadow over his handsome features. He ran a hand through his hair, looking at me with an incredulous expression. “You prefer our makeshift operation over surgery in a hospital? You’re serious?”

“Yes,” I responded confidently, my gaze unwavering. “I want to stay.”

He kissed me then, a sweet seal of acceptance on my decision. His lips were warm, moving gently against mine. I felt him sigh, the tension in his body slowly dissolving as he pulled me closer.

“I’ll tell Cesare to fuck off with asking you to help harvest organs,” he said, running his hand along my lower back.

“No, that’s ok. I’ll give it a try,” I responded.

His eyebrow shot up again, his gaze searching mine for any hint of uncertainty.

“When Dr. Malden—The Surgeon? I don’t know how I should address him—and I were talking, we got into the dark sides of the profession. He’s right: no matter where you go in the profession, there is always darkness,” I said. “So, I think my darkness belongs here.”

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