Page 274 of Legacy
He takes her hand, large and rough around hers, and says his name like it’s a gift and a warning all at once:
“Marcello Massimo Amato.”
She stiffens, just barely, but I see it. The flicker across her face, the way her eyes flash for half a second before she smooths it away.
What was that? A memory? A fear? Something I need to kill for her?
My father notices too. His eyes narrow with interest as he lifts his free hand, tilting her chin up with two fingers, making her look at him.
I bristle.
The urge to step forward, to yank her away from him, rips through me, hot and sharp. My hand twitches at my side, jaw ticking, but I hold my ground, watching her.
“Never forget the power of your name,” he says softly, voice carrying the gravel of age and the steel of authority. “Your name is your weapon, ragazza. Don’t let this world strip it from you.”
He lets her go, gesturing for us to sit.
Adriana moves first, slipping into the chair across from him, her face composed, but I can see the tension in her shoulders, the questions in her eyes she doesn’t voice.
Later,I think, slipping my hand to her thigh, grounding her, reminding her she’s not alone.
My father settles back in his chair, cigar now forgotten in the ashtray as he leans forward, eyes sharp.
“Now,” he says, looking directly at me, “tell me what’s been happening with this war of yours son.”
“We’ve already begun phase one of the withdrawal,” I say, shifting fully into the role I was born for. The Don. Her husband. The man who will end this war for us. “Maksim’s men are hitting the storage hubs. I have the warehouse transfers lined up—”
Adriana’s voice slices in, clean, precise. “And I’ve already started tracing the shell companies the Armenians are using to smuggle weapons through the ports. We’ve got meetings with our allies this week, once the pressure starts from all sides, they’ll crack.”
My father laughs, a deep, genuine sound I haven’t heard in years.
“I like this one,” he says with a smirk. “Should’ve chosen her for you instead of Santo all those years ago.”
My jaw ticks. Adriana glances at me, and I glance back, a thousand unspoken words between us.
Doesn’t matter.
Because she’s here now.
Because she’s mine now.
And this woman… I will burn kingdoms for.
And I will never let her go.
***
She’s pressed against the wall of my office, legs wrapped around my waist, skirt bunched up and I’m buried inside her so deep it feels like I’ll never let her go.
Heaven.
I thrust again, short, brutal, and she gasps, her back arching, her nails biting into my shoulders. My arm around her waist keeps her exactly where I want her, helpless and clinging, every inch of her body pulsing around mine.
“Mierda,” she moans, breathless.
Her voice sends a shiver down my spine. But it’s when she whispers, “Dámelo,” that I nearly lose it.
Give it to me.
