6:40 AM – The De Luca Safehouse
Sunrise looked different when you were alive to see it.
Gold poured through the bulletproof glass. It hit the black sheets . Hit his skin . Hit the bruise he had left on my neck with his teeth.
His.
I was still under his arm. Bare skin against bare skin. The sheet tangled around our legs . His breathing was deep . Real sleep . No painkillers this time. Just me.
For the first time in days, Alessio De Luca looked peaceful.
I shouldn't move. Should let him rest .
Seventeen stitches. Two blood transfusions. A man who'd died three times and came back because I told him to .
But my bladder didn't care about romance.
I slid out from under his arm. Inch by inch. The mattress barely dipped.
His eyes snapped open.
Black. Instant . Lethal.
Then he saw me . Just me. Standing there in his shirt. His shirt. It hit my thighs. Nothing underneath.
His whole body relaxed.
"Where," he rasped. Voice sleep-rough. Sex-rough . " Where are you going?"
" Bathroom." I tugged the shirt down. Useless. It rode up anyway. " Go back to sleep, Don."
He watched me. Up. Down. Slow. Like he was memorizing me all over again.
" Come back to bed." It wasn't a request.
" After I pee, Alessio."
His lips twitched . Almost a smile." Fine. But hurry. I get cold without you."
Liar. He ran hotter than hell.
I made it three steps before the door slammed open.
Zia Maria.
Shotgun in one hand. Coffee tray in the other. Black dress. Red lipstick. At 6:40 AM.
She looked at me. At my bare legs. At the shirt that was obviously his. At the bruise on my neck that was obviously his teeth.
She looked at Alessio. Shirtless. Stitches. Sheets around his waist. Eyes heavy-lidded and possessive as hell.
She smiled. Sharp. Like a knife.
" Breakfast's cold," she said." But my nephew's finnally warm."
I froze.
Alessio didn't.
" Zia," he growled." Knock."
" In my house?" She set the tray on the dresser. Two mugs. Steam curling. " I built this house, Alessio. I changed your diapers in this house. I will not knock."
She walked to the bed. Looked down at him. Then at me.
" You." She pointed the shotgun at me. Casually. Like it was a finger. " You made him smile. Real smile. Not the Don smile. The boy smile."
I swallowed."I– "
" Good." She lowered the gun." Keep doing it. He's been dead inside since his mother–"
Alessio went rigid." Zia."
" What? She is family now." Zia Maria picked up a mug . Shoved it at me. " Drink. You look like hell . Beautiful hell. But hell."
I took it. The mug said World's Okayest Don on it.
I chocked on a laugh.
Alessio buried his face in the pillow." I'm going to kill her."
" No , you are not." Zia patted his head like he was five. " You love me. Now eat. Both of you. Doctor says he needs protein after last night."
She looked at me when she said last night. Eyebrow raised.
My face went up in flames.
Alessio peeked out from the pillow. Saw me blushing. Grinned. Actual grin. Boy grin .
" Zia," he said. " Out."
" Fine , fine." She headed for the door. Stopped. Looked over her shoulder. " Oh. And principessa?"
I froze with the mug at my lips.
" Wear a scarf if you leave this room." She pointed at my neck. " My men don't need to see what my nephew did. They'll start a war over you."
She left. Door clicked shut.
Silence.
Then Alessio exploded.
He laughed. Full . Real. Head thrown back. The sound filled the room. Filled my chest. Filled every broken place inside me.
I stared at him.
" What?" he said, wiping his eyes." She is right . You should see your neck."
I ran to the bathroom. Flipped the light on.
Oh.
Oh no.
It wasn't a bruise. It was a claim. Dark purple. In the shape of his mouth. Right there. Below my ear. Where everyone could see.
I came back out. Pointed at him. " You animal."
He was propped up on his elbows now. Sheets low on his hips. Stitches pulling but he didn't care. Eyes dark. Hungry.
" Come here and say that again."
" Alessio, you're injured–"
" I'm fine." He patted the bed beside him.
" Doctor said bed rest. Didn't say what kind of bed rest."
I shouldn't.
I did.
I crawled back into the bed. Careful. Straddled his thighs. Not putting weight on him. My hands on his chest . His hands on my waist. Under the shirt. Skin to skin.
He kissed . Not pain. Pleasure.
" Your neck," he murmured. His thumb brushed the mark. Possessive." I did that."
"Yeah. You did." I leaned down. Kissed his jaw. The stubble there. " Now the whole house knows."
" Good." His hands slid up my back. Into my hair. Fisted. Tugged my head back. His mouth hovered over mine. Not kissing. Teasing. " Let them know. Let the world burn."
" Know what? Wait. Burn what?"
" That you are mine ." He kissed me. Slow. Deep. Like we had all the time in the world. " Mia. Per sempre."
Mine. Forever.
The coffee went cold.
We didn't.
He kissed me until I was dizzy. Until I forgot about Zia Maria. Forgot about Moretti. Forgot about everything except his mouth and his hands and the way he said my name like it was holy.
When he pulled back, we were both breathing hard.
" Breakfast," I whispered.
" Later." His teeth grazed my earlobe." I'm not done with you yet."
" Alessio, your stitches–"
" Fuck the stitches." His hands slid under the shirt. Found bare skin. " They can stitch me up again. As long as you're the reason I'm bleeding."
I laughed. Cried. Kissed him.
Outside , the house woke up. Men talking. Phones ringing. An empire running.
Inside, it was just us.
Just his mouth on my neck. Again. Softer this time. Apologizing. Worshiping. Making another mark right next to the previous one.
" Now there's two," he whispered against my skin." Matching set."
" Alessio!"
" What? So Zia knows I'm thorough."
I hit his chest. He caught my wrist. Kissed my knuckles. The one bruised from Moretti's face.
" Thank you." He said. Quiet. Real. " For coming for me."
" Thank you for living. For being alive."
He looked up at me. All of me. Hair a mess. His shirt. His marks. His.
" With you?" He smiled. That boy smile again. The one Zia talked about." I could live forever, principessa."
8:21 AM – The kitchen
We made it downstairs. Eventually.
I wore a scarf. He wore a smirk.
Zia Maria took one look at the second mark peeping out from the silk.
She didn't say anything.
She just slid a plate of eggs across the counter. Then poured two shots of Espresso.
Then picked up the shotgun.
" Eat," she said. " We have an empire to run. And Moretti to kill."
Alessio's hand found mine under the table . Laced our fingers. Tight.
He looked at me . Not the Don. Not the killer.
Just the boy.
Just mine.
He brought my knuckles to his lips. Kissed each one. His eyes never leaving mine.
" Welcome home , principessa."