Page 47 of Consequences
Cristian twists to grab my favorite whiskey. He pours us each a healthy amount, and for the longest time, we just sit there, sipping our drinks. Nothing needs to be added, no words need to be said. Time exists for us only here. And thank fuck it does.
Eventually, the sky lightens, and I groan as I stand. “Heading out?”
“Yes, I need to be there for family breakfast. Cole will be there, and if I’m not, Emilio will have words to say.”
Laughing, Cristian doesn’t call me out. Not when we both know Emilio has been ruling things more than he probably should. When my friend stands, he raises his eyebrows at me. “Istill can’t believe you’re wearing a suit. Who wakes up and puts one on in the middle of the night?”
“Someone who has lived with Antonio for too long,” I grumble.
Even though suits have always been my preference, I can’t deny that Antonio’s shopping skills have increased the amount of them in my closet.
“Well, it looks good on you regardless.” I roll my eyes at Cristian’s smirk. “It does! You don’t look stuffy and ridiculous at all.”
I ignore his chatter, even as I hide a smirk of my own. It’s good to see him back to his usual self—even if it’s being a smart ass. When we get to the door of his office, he stops me with a touch of his hand.
I cock my head, confused. When he doesn’t say anything, I prompt him. “Are you alright?”
Eventually, he swallows and whispers, “Thank you. Thank you for coming.”
“Fuck it,” I curse.
Grabbing him by the back of his head, I pull him in and capture his lips with mine. Growling, I put more force into the kiss, pouring every emotion I have into it—confusion, need, anger, desire, the complexity of everything that makes me think of him.
At first, he holds still, but it's not long before he’s meeting my kiss with a passion of his own. Eventually, I slowly part from him, rubbing my thumb against his wet lip. The shock in his black eyes is likely the same that’s in mine, because fuck, this doesn’t make sense. And yet…it does. The sense of rightness that fills me is overpowering. I give him one more soft kiss.
“Let me know where the meeting will be, Dolce Cuore.”
I walk out, not giving him a chance to speak. I’m familiar enough with his house now that it’s easy to find my way out. Idon’t meet anyone’s gaze as I go, staring straight ahead as I try to keep my thoughts inside. As soon as I’m out of the mansion, I take a deep breath. I quietly thank the driver when he opens the door to the limo. Sliding in, I sag against the seat.
Scrubbing my face with my hands, I give an aborted laugh. Fuck me. I’m more screwed than I imagined. What the fuck do I do now?
I keep my eyes closed as we head home. I’m stuck in a prison of my own making. The desire for my friend, and the love of my Boy. Fuck. I want both, if Cristian will let me. I know Emilio would accept it easily. But if I do, I’d need to deal with Hollis, and that’s another issue entirely. One I have no desire to think about on so little sleep. The Amato-Martelli Curse is far stronger than I thought…
Istare at my family, hoping I’m not making a grave mistake. This meeting is happening one way or the other, and while having it in person makes sense on many levels, the logistics of it all gives me a headache—and I’m not even talking about the security and maneuvering we have to do in order to get from our house to the Martelli mansion.
No, it’s the people that are making the logistics difficult.It would have been better if they killed each other.
Wincing at my own thoughts, I address my family. “We’re guests in their house,” I tell them calmly. “I do not care about what may or may not have happened when Il Padrone and I were taken. You carry, or represent, the Amato name, and that is what you will show. Much as they will be presenting as members of the Martelli Family. Understood? I will not step in should Il Padrone decide to knock you down a peg.”
I level a stare at Roman, who has the decency to look sheepish, knowing he still owes the other Boss a proper apology.
“This meeting is too important for any hurt feelings or misunderstandings.” I watch Tennant carefully, knowing he’s none too pleased about what happened this morning.
While I understand where he’s coming from, I do not blame my friend for stepping in as he did. Respect is important, and without the history of how we came to be, Tennant’s words and actions toward me could be considered disrespectful. Hopefully, time spent together, and reassurances that he’ll never turn his…less than stellar personality on anyone else—without good cause—will help my new friend understand my oldest one.
Tennant is protective, obsessive, and not at all patient when he claims something—or someone. That he’s let a month pass without seeing Benjamin is a statement at how much he respects Allesandro as a Boss all on its own.
“You’re allowed to make a request for…personal time at the end of the meeting, but until then, I need you to do your jobs.”
Roman rolls his eyes. “We know what we’re doing, Dad. You don’t need to lecture us like we’re five.”
“You were better behaved as a five-year-old,” I tell him.
He huffs, but straightens out his skirt instead of replying. I eye him carefully, noting that the suit he’s wearing is similar to his treasured burgundy one, only this one has a white skirt and shirt, making the dark green of his eyes seem to glow. It’s not a color he usually wears, for obvious reasons, but I do recognize how good he looks with the light-gray suit jacket and sparkly black nails to finish off the look. I also know he’s dressed up to impress not only Il Padrone, but Ignacio.
For a moment, I get a flash of what he will look like on his wedding day, and I shake those thoughts away. I'm struggling enough with the thought that he's old enough to choose not one lover, but four. I don't want to think about what comes next.
“We're aware connections were made, and that it's been a struggle to return to normal. We are not ignorant to how you all coped while we were gone. But we are Martelli and Amato. Do not forget that.”
