He stretches as I admire his lean, muscular frame from the distance of my hazy post-orgasm glow. He grins at me, kisses my nipples, palms my breasts, slaps my ass. He can’t keep his hands to himself and his cock is still half-hard, twitching with each heartbeat. I nuzzle against his chest and pull the sheets on top of us.
“I’ve never fucked a guy in my father’s house before,” I whisper, grinning stupidly.
“First time for everything.”
“Do you think anyone heard?”
“Princess, I suspect all of Mexico heard.”
I blush deeply, utterly mortified. “That’s more than a little embarrassing, you know.”
“I suspect your father will be relieved more than anything. He wants this marriage to work, and fucking you is a good sign.” He laughs and bites my ear. “But don’t worry. It won’t matter when I bring you home.”
I look into his eyes, his lovely dark eyes, and I wonder: do I want that? Do I truly want to go with this man when I know what it means?
Marriage. A lifetime of servitude. My existence will be for the Famiglia, whether I like it or not. If I go with him and leave my father’s house again, there will be no turning back, because if I try to run again, Casso will kill me.
He’ll have to do it. Honor and duty and fidelity to family will demand my sacrifice.
We both know it.
Is that what I want? To commit myself to this?
“When are we leaving?” I whisper, already sure of the answer.
There’s no turning back for me, not anymore.
“As soon as you get your things together.” He’s quiet now, staring at the ceiling. I feel his heart race against my cheek. “I need you to understand that I don’t know what this means, if you come back with me. I’m not making any promises to you.”
I chew on my lip. “I assume it means I’m your wife.”
“You hurt me, Olivia. You ran away from the family while Fynn’s lying half dead in a hospital bed. You turned your back on me and everyone I love. How can I let you back into my life after that? Even though I want to, how can I do it?”
I close my eyes and struggle against the tears. He’s right to ask that question, even if it breaks my heart. He’s right to wonder, because I’m wondering how we’ll move past it or if we even can. I shake my head slightly.
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully and that’s not what he wants to hear.
More silence. Only his beating heart and his deep breaths. A tear rolls down my cheek and pools onto his chest. I wipe it away.
“We’ll go home,” he says, “and we’ll figure it out from there.”
I nod once. “If that’s what you want.”
“I don’t want any of this. I didn’t want it, and I still don’t. I don’t want to feel this way.” He pulls me closer, his big arms wrapping around my body. “But you need to want it too,” he says into my ear. “You have to want to come with me, Olivia. You have to want to be a part of my family and everything that means. I won’t chase you again. I will expect obedience, or at the very least, I’ll expect honesty. Beyond that, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. I just don’t know yet.”
I let his words sink in and try to picture what they mean. Family dinners, society events, the life of a mafia wife. I’ll make appearances, smile at galas and charity balls. Dinner parties, campaign gatherings. I’ll wield huge power but be expected to do my duty, to have children, to be the perfect princess.
And it’s appealing, if it means I’ll get to be with Casso.
“Take me home,” I say and he kisses me.
Chapter 26
Casso
Fynn’s the way I left him a day earlier. Still, quiet, pale. The machines softly beep and the room stinks of cleaning products and lemons. Karah’s sitting with her knees pulled to her chest and watching Fynn with tired, red-rimmed eyes, bleary and exhausted. I doubt she’s left his side since I went to Mexico. Guilt stabs at me, but I know he’d understand.
“The nurses say no news can be good news.” Karah’s voice is reedy and thin like she’s talking through a tin can string phone.
“That doesn’t sound right.” I touch my brother’s shoulder. His chest rises and falls, slowly.
“It means he’s not getting worse. I think the doctors expected him to die that first night, and the fact that he hasn’t is a small miracle. He’s got to heal.” She nods to herself, as if making a decision. “He’ll pull through this.”
“He will.” I tighten my jaw and stare at Fynn’s quiet, sleeping face.
Back home, Olivia’s in our room, waiting. She swore she wouldn’t leave it and I believe her. I haven’t slept more than a few hours in the last two days and I’m running on fumes, but I had to come here to check on Fynn. I already feel little stabs of uncertainty writhe along my skin. I hope I’m doing the right thing. I want to save everyone if I can.