Page 70 of King Of Order

He cooked for me, ensured I drank water and kept hydrated, did the chores, and spoiled me.

When I couldn’t sleep, he stayed with me, sitting in front of the TV beside me, introducing me to his favorite pastime.

‘The 80s and early 90s action movies were pure gold,’ he rasped.

‘Dimmi,’ I told him with a weary smile.

‘Conan the Barbarian, Beverly Hills Cop, the Demolition Man, Total Recall, even Lethal Weapon. They are perfect. Creative, thought-provoking, violent, beautiful, dynamic, and raw, with just enough tongue-in-cheek humor and naked boobs to spice it up. They were and still remain the pinnacle of cheesy entertainment and the best escapism possible.’

We sat with wine glasses and a cheese platter as Rio took me on a journey, starting with all things Arnold, bingeing Terminator 1 and 2 over one night.

I enjoyed the flights of fancy, welcoming the animatronics, prosthetics, and hilarious stunts that helped keep the gloom in my mind away.

The day of the funeral was as bleak as my weary soul. Rain drizzled from a slate-colored sky, soaking Naples in a fitting dreariness.

Rio and I arrived in a sleek black limousine, and for a moment, I couldn’t bring myself to move.

I sat in the back seat, staring out through the misted window at the small gathering by the graveside. I wasn’t sure I had it in me to do it.

Did I have the willpower to face all these people and pretend to feel anything more than the hollow ache in my chest?

Rio’s fingers curled firmly around mine, pulling me out of my fog.

‘I’m here,’ he rasped, his voice cutting through my numbness like a lifeline. His words were simple, but they were enough.

Our eyes locked and stayed that way for a beat.

For all his contemplative reticence, the more time we spent together, the more I caught glimpses of his softer side. He hid his kindness with gruffness, his care with brooding.

I also sensed an attraction that he was fighting it as hard as I was - a fire blazing in him, scorching me, warming me when I freakin’ needed it the most.

‘Shall we?’ he rasped.

I nodded, exhaling.

Time to face the inevitable.

Rio slid on his sunglasses and eased out first, unfurling a gold and ebony umbrella and reaching for my hand. I stepped out of the car into the steady rain.

I lifted the black veil from my hat and let it fall before me. The wide-brimmed rim kept my face hidden, the shroud obscuring the world. I wanted it that way.

My fitted dark suit appeared more like armor than clothing, but my hands still shook despite it all.

Rio gave off standoffish, menacing energy, which I needed to keep the hordes at bay.

As usual, he was clad in flawless style—tailored trousers, a tie, and a crisp navy shirt that hugged his muscled frame. It was a casual kind of elegance that screamedsprezzatura—effortless grace.

With tinted sunglasses on his sculpted nose, he played the part of sinister boyfriend to the hilt. His hand rested on my back as he parted the milling mobsters and my father’s associates, including the Tirone capo crew and a few family members, to guide me to my seat.

He was unlike anyone I’d ever met—he stalked with a quiet intensity, each step deliberate, like a predator assessing his surroundings.

Even in this ridiculous situation, at a grave site surrounded by the Tirone mob henchmen and capos, he carried himself with an aura that said he didn’t give a fuck what the wide world thought.

Under the cool facade, Rio liked being in control.

He preferred things mapped out, each moment accounted for.

At his behest, we’d rehearsed the day, gone through every minute of the rundown, and planned for all eventualities to minimize any risk to my life, given the threats against me.

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