Page 47 of Third Degree

“But our love was different. We did something that defied our parents’ rules. We were rebellious and young. She got pregnant after the first night of being together, so I loved her because she was the mother of my children and my partner in life, but I didn’t have a choice to love another.”

She looked at me sadly, giving me the space to continue.

“I miss her every day and when I first saw you, the way I felt about you scared me because it was so different. The way I feel about you feels like I have a choice. It feels like no one is forcing me to feel the way I do about you. It’s a very freeing type of feeling.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” She rubbed her hand along my jawline. “Tell me more about her.”

And I did. I told her about the way the kids in the neighborhood would come over for her cookies. I told her about the way she loved the boys. I told her about the way she was joyous and had an infectious personality. I told her how she dreamed so big and wanted so much more than what the Mafia life was going to give her.

“Sounds like me.” Gianna laughed, but little did she know she was right. Bea was so much like Gianna in the sense that she wanted more than the bubble she lived in. She was desperate for a sense of freedom. But the way I felt about Gianna, fuck, I loved her with all of my being. I loved her like I’d loved none other.

“What scares me the most, rosa mia, is that one day I could lose you like I lost Bea.”

She nuzzled into the crook of my neck. “I never want to lose you again, Elio.”

“Me neither.” I gently placed a small kiss on her lips, inhaling her pure rose scent.

“Do you want children?” I asked, pulling away.

“What?” She laughed and pulled our foreheads together.

The fucking moment I married this woman, I was going to throw her over whatever fucking surface we were on and feast on her because her every little touch made me feel like a damn horny teenager all over again.

Attempting to control myself, I pulled her off of me and sat her on the seat next to me.

“Hey!” She argued.

“I am being serious. I need you to answer me.” My tone was now demanding. I knew my age. I was pushing fifty, and if she wanted children, I needed to know so I could do whatever was needed to build our future together. That required leverage with Ricardo.

“I don’t know, honestly,” she responded, grabbing my hands and lacing our fingers together. “It’s not really something I have thought of.”

She paused for a moment and looked away from me. When I grabbed her cheek, I felt the dampness.

“Amore, are you crying?” I asked, now leaning into her.

“I guess I was going to say that I hadn’t thought of having kids until I met you. But when I started to think about it, I don’t even know what our future is going to look like.” She looked down solemnly. “We have always cared about each other in secret, but what happens when I turn thirty-one? What happens if my parents have already found someone for me?”

“Hey.” I unfastened my seatbelt and lowered on my knees in front of her, where I grabbed her hands and looked up into her sad, tear-filled eyes. “I told you the other day in the car that I will never let you go. I am serious, rosa mia. You are mine,” I all but growled at her, and she nodded in agreement.

“Okay.” A small upturn of her lips formed. “Sit down, please. You are making me nervous.”

I laughed and sat next to her. She pulled out her phone and started to read on her Kindle app, and I quickly typed a message to Ricardo, telling him we needed to talk immediately when I got home.

Upon arriving back in San Diego, I dropped her off at her apartment and promised I would come to get her for the wedding tomorrow, letting her know that I needed to finish some business.

When I got back into the car, I immediately called Ricardo.

“Pronto(Hello),” he answered. “Tell me about this ominous text message I got.” Ricardo had always been like family to me. He took me in and taught me the ropes. He saved my life when my wife wanted out of the family, sparing me.

He was a good man, but I also knew my place in the business. I knew that between the Ricci family and the Gambinis, it was my clubs that legitimized their money and cash flow.

As I drove back to La Jolla where I was staying, I kept Ricardo on the phone as I sped down the highway.

“I’ve been loyal to you these last years, yes?” I prompted Ricardo.

“Of course. You are like a brother to me.”

“Then I need to ask you a favor. Something I have never asked. I’ve done nothing but give and provide, but it’s my turn to cash in.”

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