Page 21 of United Reign (Valentino Empire 3)

“Maybe, Izzy. We can call him in the morning,”

“Is Nonno still sad about Uncle T? Do you think that Uncle T and Nonno will make up?”

“I’m not sure, sweetheart. I don’t think Nonno is sad about Uncle T. I think he’s disappointed he didn’t know about him all these years. That’s not either of their faults,” Angelica says.

“I think I love Uncle T. I want to marry someone just like him when I’m bigger,” the little girl announces sternly.

Her mother laughs. “Good luck with that, Izzy. You need to marry whoever you fall in love with. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. Ever,bella.”

“Okay. Mama?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you’ll ever fall in love?” Izzy’s innocent interrogation sends a sharp pain to my chest. Is Angelica lonely? Does she need someone to be her partner in life? I never would have contemplated the idea before I met Holly.

“I think maybe I will… one day. But I have you, Izzy, and you’re all the love I need.” Angelica may convince her daughter, but she doesn’t convince me.

I walk away. By the time I get back to the bedroom, Holly is fast asleep. I put the bowl on the nightstand and undress, before climbing in next to her. I wrap my arms around her waist and lie in silence, thanking God for sending me one of his angels. Again. I’ll never stop being grateful for my wife.

* * *

“Mmm.” I wake up to the best fucking feeling. I look down to a sea of red locks as Holly’s head bobs up and down, her mouth a silky heaven as it captures my cock. “Fuck, dolcezza, this is how I want to wake up every day,” I groan as I fist her hair and lift her head so I can see her face.

“Mhmm,” she mumbles with her mouth full.

Her hand cups my balls and she starts massaging them. “Fuck, I’m going to come, Holly,” I warn, but she only sucks harder, causing my spine to tingle. I come down her throat, filling her cheeks. I feel her swallow, and then, within seconds, she’s jumping off the bed and running into the bathroom. What the fuck just happened? I’m left confused, until I hear her retching. I run in after her, finding her leaning over the toilet. “Fuck, shit, I’m sorry. Are you okay? What do I do? Tell me what to do, dolcezza?”

She looks up at me and laughs. “I’m fine now. Maybe hand me a glass of water.”

“Should I call a doctor?” I ask as I fill a glass and pass it to her. I place my palm on her forehead. She doesn’t have a fever.

“And say what? I was giving you head and threw up?”

“Well, shit. I don’t know. Can’t say I’ve ever had that reaction before…” I mutter, a little spun out and unsure what I’m supposed to do here.

“It’s fine. It wasn’t you. I promise. I wasn’t feeling a hundred percent when I woke up. Guess I should listen to my body more.”

“I’m calling a doctor.” I walk back into the bedroom to retrieve my phone.

“No, you’re not. Today is Sonnie’s service. We are not missing this, T. I’ll be fine. I probably just ate something bad—that’s all.”

I look her over warily. She seems okay. A little pale, but otherwise, she appears fine. Damn fucking fine. “Okay, but if you don’t feel well, you tell me and we’ll leave. I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks, Holly. If you’re sick, we will be seeing a doctor.”

“I’ll be fine. I just need a shower.” Holly turns and walks back into the bathroom. She shuts the door and then I hear the water running.

That’s odd. She never shuts the door. Something’s obviously wrong. I reach for the handle and it’s locked. She fucking locked me out. I bang my fist against the white panel. “Holly, unlock the door.”

“I’m fine, T. I’m showering. Can you get me a coffee? I need caffeine.”

Get her a fucking coffee? Is she serious? “Holly, open the fucking door or I’m kicking it in,” I yell. I don’t get an answer. I’m about to follow through with the threat, when I remember there’s a fucking key sitting on the doorframe above me. I placed it there a while ago, back when I used to live here as a kid. Unlocking the handle, I push it open and step in. The steam is so thick I can’t see more than two feet in front of me. What I can see is my wife sitting on the floor of the shower, the water cascading over her body as she silently sobs. “Fuck, Dolcezza, what’s wrong?” I jump inside and scoop her up. Moving us back to the bench seat, I sit down with her.

“N-n-nothing’s wrong,” she stutters out.

I brush the wet hair from her face. “Bullshit, if nothing was wrong, you wouldn’t be sitting here crying. Whatever it is, just tell me, and I’ll fix it.”

“You can’t fix it, T. Sonnie is dead and it’s all my fault. How am I-I meant to face his family today?”

“It is not your fault, Holly. Sonnie was doing his job. He knew the risks it entailed. It’s not your fault. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

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