Page 65 of Of Grief And Gratitude

He rushed forward, clutching me to him. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I never meant to involve you in any of this.”

“I’m fine,” I assured him, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my forehead against his chest.

“You need to get out of here,” Dante said cryptically, pointing to the car. Dario stood by the driver’s door, the scar across his jaw twisting his face into a perpetual grimace.

Romeo’s shoulders slumped, and he nodded. “I couldn’t control myself.”

Dante stepped close, looking over his shoulder and lowering his voice. “You didn’t lie or say anything the rest of us haven’t thought a thousand times.”

My brows shot up at the heir’s admission. I’d assumed he was Ettore’s lackey, a puppet who would follow in his father’s footsteps. Dante tapped Romeo in the chest once, then balled his hand into a fist and backed away, waiting as his little brother climbed into the car.

“Riona.”

I waited for him to speak, searching his deep brown eyes.

“Take care of my brother for me.”

“You know I will.” I gave him a brief nod and climbed into the SUV, sighing as Romeo gripped my thigh for the entire ride back to his building.

He was still unsteady when he unlocked his door and held it open for me. I kicked my heels off and shrugged out of my coat, hanging it on the nearby hook. Romeo removed his jacket and missed the wall, dropping it in a heap on the ground and walking away. I reached down and retrieved it, giving it a shake and hanging it next to my coat.

Romeo was already pouring a drink when I hurried to yank the glass from his hand, tossing the alcohol back and wresting the bottle from his hand when he scowled and tried to pour another.

“You’ve had more than enough for the day,” I admonished, carrying the glass to the sink and rinsing it.

“Fuck off with that shit,” he growled. “I stopped needing others to tell me what to do years ago.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” I found a mug in the cupboard and popped a pod into his coffee maker, shoving the caffeine into his hands when he huffed behind me. “You’re only allowed coffee and water for the rest of the day. If you’re lucky, you won’t end up kneeling in front of the toilet, and you might spare yourself the hangover tomorrow.”

His dark eyes tracked my movements as I pulled two chilled water bottles from the refrigerator and set Romeo’s on the counter before opening mine. I washed the lingering sting of spirits from my throat and tossed the empty bottle in his recycling bin.

I sighed as Romeo gazed out the window, ignoring me as he finished the coffee and took a few swigs of water.

“I’m sorry.” I wasn’t sure he heard my soft words or whether he understood all they encompassed. When he didn’t answer, I looked down at my feet, covered in black pantyhose, pointing my toe and tracing it across the pattern on the kitchen tile.

“Riona.” Romeo’s hand caressed my cheek, coaxing my chin up. His lips crashed against mine almost violently, and I moaned at the contact, opening and nipping at his bottom lip. He growled and grabbed my ass, lifting me onto the counter's edge.

We were a whirlwind of searching touches and sounds of desire. His hands moved roughly down my body until he had lifted my dress to my waist and gripped the pantyhose, tearing them down the center and moving my black lace thong to the side so he could plunge his fingers into my soaked center.

“Romeo!” I cried breathlessly when he found the sensitive spot along my front wall.

His fingers were gone as fast as he’d entered and found me ready. He fumbled with his belt and released his thick erection, pulling me close as he slid through my arousal. Romeo’s voice was hoarse as he tucked his head against my neck and pleaded, “Help me forget.”

“Yes.” I reached between us and lined him up with my entrance, gasping when he filled me with a hard, quick thrust.

“Take all of me, mia fiamma,” Romeo breathed desperately. “Everything.”

I nodded against his neck, kissing him in answer, taking his cock, taking every broken piece of him. Our bodies moved in sync, passion driving us higher and higher as we left reality behind and found solace in each other's arms.

Chapter Nineteen

I awoke in a cold sweat, my stomach churning from the image of my mother’s lifeless eyes. Bile rose to the back of my throat, and I fought to escape my bed, the sweat-soaked covers sticking to my naked body. Finally, I kicked the sheets away and rolled off the mattress, tripping over my discarded clothes and barely catching myself before I fell headfirst into my nightstand.

Swearing, I righted myself and stumbled into my bathroom, flinging the toilet seat up as I fell to my knees and retched until I feared internal organs had joined my dinner and the last of the bottle of rum I’d consumed before bed. The room spun, and I realized I was still intoxicated. What time was it, anyway? Must have been nighttime, still, since the sky outside the window was dark.

The spring storm that began the evening before still raged, wind whipping and howling through the streets, lightning cutting through the blackness like a strobe. Exhaustion made it impossible to drag my body off the floor, and I laid my head against the cool tile, letting sleep claim me again.

Two weeks without Mamma. A week without Riona in my bed because I couldn’t let her see what I’d become. No amount of wearing myself out could save me from the nightmares that plagued me whenever I closed my eyes. Even alcohol didn’t stop the dreamlike images that danced through my mind.

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