Page 97 of Mafia Shade's Reluctant Bride
My breath caught before the words even landed. It was like time pulled tight around me. For a moment, I just stared at him, unable to speak and unable to move because everything I’d been trying not to feel came rushing in all at once.
It made everything real.
I thought I had already heard it all and survived it all. But love, when spoken like that—with no conditions, no strategy, no manipulation—hit differently. It stripped me bare. It exposed how much I still wanted him and how deeply I still cared, even after all the betrayal and all the scars.
A war had been raging inside me for days between trust and doubt, anger and longing. And now, with just three words, he’d undone every wall I had rebuilt.
I wanted to touch him. I wanted to fall into him and forget what had happened. I wanted to feel close again, not just with my body, but with every broken part of me that still reached for him in the dark.
Hearing him say it—like that, so raw, so real—I felt a dam inside me start to give way.
I love you.
The words hung there, heavy and soft. They didn’t fix everything. They didn’t erase the pain. But they brought a warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time. They reminded me that even in the wreckage, some things could still bloom.
He didn’t wait for a reaction.
“And not because of some damn inheritance or because of Matteo. I love you. All of you. The smart-mouthed, stubborn woman who terrifies me and turns my brain to mush every time she walks into a room.”
I choked on a laugh.
He kissed the corner of my mouth, my jaw, and my neck. Each kiss was slower than the last like he was memorizing me.
And then his arms swept under my legs.
“Lorenzo!”
He carried me with that ridiculous grin on his face. I was half laughing and half breathless as he walked us toward his bedroom.
“I’m not putting you down,” he warned. “Not now. Not when I finally get to have you.”
His mouth was everywhere, on my cheeks, neck, and collarbone, and I was gasping before I even realized I’d forgotten how to breathe.
Every inch of him felt like something I’d been missing without knowing it. Every sound, every touch, and every breath was laced with something deeper than lust.
This was more. This was everything. And God help me, I wanted all of it.
The moment Lorenzo’s strong arms wrapped around me, lifting me off the ground, I felt a surge of heat rush through my veins. His grip was firm but gentle, his hands spanning my waist as he carried me toward his bedroom.
The soft carpet muffled his footsteps, and the scent of his cologne, a sharp, woody aroma that always made my knees weak, filled my senses. I tilted my head back, meeting his piercing blue-gray eyes in the hallway.
They were intense and hungry yet filled with a tenderness that made my heart skip a beat.
“You’re mine, Maria. You have always been mine,” he murmured, his deep voice vibrating against my skin. His words sent a shiver down my spine, not just because of the possessiveness in his tone but because I knew, deep down, that I was his, too.
He kicked the bedroom door shut behind him and walked toward the bed, laying me down with a care that belied his ruthless reputation.
Lorenzo was a man of contrasts, cold and calculating to the world, but with me, he was something else entirely. He leaned over me, his shadow falling across my body, and captured my lips in a kiss that was both demanding and worshipful.
His mouth moved against mine with a hunger that mirrored my own, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips until I parted for him, surrendering to the heat building between us.
His hands were everywhere, yet nowhere, all at once. They moved with intentionality, sliding up my shirt to expose my skin to the cool air of the room.
I arched my back slightly, my breath hitching as his lips trailed down my neck, his stubble scratching gently against my sensitive skin. He pulled my shirt over my head, tossing it aside without breaking eye contact.
His gaze lingered on my chest, his expression one of reverence as he took in the lace of my bra and the curve of my breasts.
“You’re so heavenly, Maria,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. I felt a flush creep up my cheeks, but I didn’t look away. Instead, I reached up, threading my fingers through his dark hair, pulling him closer.
