Page 53 of Silent Vows

“You know I will,” I promised, the words automatic after years of protecting her from afar. But Gio had turned to me then, something knowing in his dark eyes that made my breath catch.

“I’ve seen how you watch her,” he’d said quietly. My heart had stopped, fingers tightening on my glass until I thought it might shatter. But his voice held no accusation, no rage—only a strange sort of understanding. “At her art shows. At family functions. When you think no one’s looking.”

“Giovanni, I would never—” Panic had clawed at my throat, decades of friendship suddenly balanced on a knife’s edge.

But he’d just smiled, that peculiar peace still radiating from him. “You think I don’t know you’ve had men watching over her at college? That you’ve been protecting her all these years?” He’d taken another sip of scotch, the amber liquid gleaming like fire in the dying light. “A father knows these things, my friend.”

“I’ve never?—”

“Of course you haven’t. You’re too honorable for that.” He’d turned to face me fully then. “That’s why I’m trusting you with her future. Because you love her enough to protect her, but respect her enough to let her choose her own path.”

I remember staring at him, this man who’d been my best friend for twenty years, wondering if the scotch had gone to his head. “You’re not angry?”

“Angry?” He’d actually laughed. “Matteo, you’re the only man I’ve ever trusted with my daughter’s safety. Why wouldn’t I trust you with her heart?” His expression had grown serious then. “Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Let her paint. Let her create. Don’t try to turn her into something she’s not.” His eyes had held mine. “She’s not Sophia, my friend. She’s stronger than any of us know.”

Now, looking at Bella’s face as I admit this truth, I see exactly what Giovanni meant. She’s not Sophia—she’s fire where Sophia was ice, strength where Sophia was calculation. She’s everything I never deserved but somehow found anyway.

“He knew how I felt about you,” I continue softly, watching emotions play across her face. “It’s why he asked me specifically to protect you if anything happened to him.”

“And how do you feel about me?” She steps closer, fearless as ever. The sunlight streaming through the windows catches the gold in her hazel eyes, making them almost glow. “Now that you’re not watching from a distance?”

The air between us crackles with tension. From the corner of my eye, I see Bianca slip out, closing the door behind her. Smart girl. She’s learning when to fight and when to retreat—another thing she gets from me.

“You know how I feel,” I say roughly, fighting the urge to pull her into my arms. The stitches in my shoulder burn, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in my chest.

“Do I?” She moves closer still, close enough that her jasmine perfume wraps around me like a spell. “Because a lot has happened in the past week. Forced marriage, murder attempts,family secrets…” Her voice catches slightly. “I’m not sure what’s real anymore.”

I catch her chin with my good hand, tilting her face up to mine. Her skin is silk under my callused fingers, and the trust in her eyes nearly undoes me. “This is real. You, saving my life multiple times. Fighting for our family. Looking at me like you’re looking at me right now…”

“And how am I looking at you?” A whisper.

“Like you might love me too,” I admit.

The words hang between us for a heartbeat, heavy with possibility and fear and hope. Then Bella rises on her toes, pressing her lips to mine. The kiss is different from our others—softer, questioning, full of promise. No violence driving it, no desperate need to prove anything. Just us, here, choosing each other.

“I might,” she whispers against my mouth, her hands coming up to frame my face. “God help me, I think I do.”

I kiss her properly then, pouring everything I can’t say into it. My good arm bands around her waist, pulling her onto my lap as her hands fist in my shirt. She tastes like tea and hope and something uniquely her that makes my head spin. Everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I never thought I deserved, right here in my arms.

Her hands move over my chest and every touch is electric, sending sparks of warmth cutting through the cold dread that’s been wrapping around my heart for so many years.

I deepen the kiss, my tongue exploring hers with a hunger that makes Bella moan. My good hand moves lower, skimming over her waist, her hips, and she arches into me, clearly craving more. Our breaths mingle, our movements frantic as we lose ourselves in each other. My lips trail down her neck, nipping at her skin, and the moan she releases drives me fucking crazy. It only spurs me on.

“Matteo,” Bella gasps, tilting her head to give me better access. “I want you.”

I pull back to look at her. Christ, she’s so beautiful. “Want or need,piccola?”

“Need,” she gasps again, her artist’s hands already unbuttoning my shirt. “Definitelyneed.”

That’s all the encouragement I need. Her mouth opens slightly, and I take the invitation, deepening the kiss. Our tongues meet, and the sensation sends a shiver down my spine. I can taste her, sweet and intoxicating, and it makes me crave her even more. My heart pounds in my chest, every beat echoing the desire that courses through me.

Bella’s body molds against mine, fitting perfectly as if we were made for each other. I feel the curve of her waist, the rise and fall of her chest against mine, and it drives me wild. My hands move lower, gripping her hips, pulling her even closer until there’s no space left between us.

I break the kiss only for a moment, our foreheads touching as we both gasp for breath. Her eyes are dark with passion, mirroring the fire I feel within. “Bella,” I murmur, my voice rough with desire. “I love you.”

---