Page 129 of Massimo

It's been over twenty-four hours since we 'got married', and we haven't left his bedroom. I've lost count of the number of orgasms I've had or the times I've been stuffed with his cum.

I mean, I'm not complaining, but…holy hell.

"Come on, princess."

I groan at the delicious ache of my body as he lifts me.

When he walks us into the ensuite, my brows pinch in confusion at the steam-filled room and the huge tub that is filled with water. "How…? When?"

He chuckles, kissing my forehead. "I prepared the bath when someone was passed out after her last orgasm."

I sniff the air. "Is that lavender?"

"And rosemary oil."

He steps into the tub, and I moan as he lowers us into the water, submerging my wonderfully aching body. He kisses my forehead again, then arranges my body between his legs with my back to his front. "Relax now. The oils will help with any inflammation and soreness from our marathon of sex."

God, he's not wrong about the marathon of sex.

"Did you study botanical medicine on top of nutrition?" I tease, relaxing further as the heat and oil go to work.

The deep rumble of his laugh rolls through me, and I decide that's the best sound I've experienced in my entire life.

He moves my hair to the side and nuzzles my neck. "No, princess, I'm just an uneducated Don."

I snort. "You have a PhD in criminal underworld ruling and domination; you can't really get that at university."

"Hmm, you'd be surprised." His hands swirl through the water and cup my breasts. With their small size and his large hands, they all but disappear. "What do you want to do with your life, wife?"

My core and my heart clench when he calls me that.

But his question is a sober reality of how oppressed and controlled I was under my father's suffocating rule. "I've never allowed myself to even think about it."

"You have the opportunity to do whatever you want, Nova. Any ideas of what that may be?"

My throat closes, but I force the words out. "To help women like my mother escape before it's too late."

Massimo stills, yet it feels like he's pulling me even closer, like he's trying to absorb me into him to shield me. "I'm sorry your mother couldn't be saved, Nova."

"Me, too." Tears fill my eyes, and I don't want to talk about this further. "Who is Vincenzo Pisani?" I ask suddenly, though I'm unsure where the question came from.

Massimo lifts and turns me so I straddle him, and he studies me. "Does that name mean something to you?"

"I don't know." I frown as there's a tingle of recognition, as if it's somehow connected to my mother. Like it's a blurred memory, but I can't get it to come into focus.

"Vincenzo is the Don of a family in Italy," Massimo explains. "He's a descendent of the founding family of the 'Ndrangheta."

Then there's no way my mother knew him. Our outings and travel were restricted to Boston. And coming from two different and rival mafia syndicates, Vincenzo would've never been a guest in the house, coming to see my father.

Yet… There's still something there. That vague recollection of a connection with my mother, but it starts to disappear if I focus to hard on it.

"Why was he here?"

"He was trying to get proof that I have you." At my confused look, he explains, "There were 'Ndrangheta Dons that voted against me killing your father; Vincenzo was one of them."

I gnaw on my lip. "So that's why the marriage?"Fakemarriage, but I leave that out, not wanting to hear the actual word that will shatter the illusion I'm currently allowing myself to be under.

"They won't take you from me." His tone is fierce and sure. "I've promised you that your father would never get you back. You're free of him and his reign of terror."

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