Page 228 of Merciless Desires

Children.

I was to bear an heir for Matteo, a boy to rule this world when my husband could no longer. And if I didn’t give him a son, he would find someone else who could.

I had heard stories of capo wives who were shunned for bearing only girls. They were taken care of because capos looked after their wives, past and present, but they were no longer welcome within the syndicate. The syndicate that I would need to learn now since I would be more involved.

Papà had glossed over the entire world in which we lived in, giving only the information required to keep us satisfied. But what really went on, what Matteo dealt with, was far more than that.

With an abruptness that made me jump, Matteo ended the call and rested both hands against the window. He sighed and his entire body tensed, muscles flexing and shifting below the white fabric. I would have to learn to go to him and be his comfort, but for now, I would just watch.

He turned, tucking his phone in his pocket, and crossed the room to me.

“Amorina.” My nickname was breathy on the lips that I let press against my cheek and linger as he wrapped both arms around me. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Matteo.”

A quick nibble on my skin that he soothed with a kiss had me yelping and pushing at him while he chuckled. “You slept well?”

“As well as I could in an unfamiliar place.”

Matteo peered down at me with a frown. “Your room was crafted to resemble the one you had at your papà’s. Is something missing?”

Love, I wanted to say, but I knew that answer would only shift the conversation toward us and away from the fact that I wasn’t comfortable here. I wasn’t sure if I ever would be.

“No.” I shook my head. “Nothing is missing. It’s a different…”

House? Life?

“Bed.”

“I’ll buy you a new one.” His hands left me as quickly as they had wrapped around me, and I stumbled slightly. “Glad to see you out of the bedroom.”

“What do you need me to do?” I asked as I sat on the couch.

Matteo glanced at me over his shoulder. “You don’t need to do anything for me, amorina.”

“To be able to see my family.”

“Would you like to see your family today?”

He turned fully to watch me nod.

“Then have a meal with me.”

“What would you like me to make for you?”

He breathed a laugh. “I’m going to cook for you, Marcella.”

“You’ve made me a few meals already,” I countered and stood. I moved carefully toward him, keeping enough distance that he couldn’t touch me.

Matteo nodded once. “To get you to eat. That is still my intent.”

As he side-stepped me, I grabbed his arm, feeling him tense beneath my grip. He slowly turned his head to look at me.

“Will you let me cook for you?”

He sucked in a shallow breath. “Yes.”

I let him go, but he snatched my hand in his and led me through his—our—home to the kitchen. It was larger than the kitchen at Papà’s, and there wasn’t a strange woman stretching pasta there, but it was black. Everything was black.

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