“Natalya.

” His roughened voice caught in his throat, like it was agony

to say it. I approached him slowly. Intensity glittered in his dark eyes as if
he was waiting for me to suddenly remember everything.
There was nothing. But my mind didn’t reject the name. “Natalya? I like
it…it fits.”
MM asked beside me, “Anything?”
“It doesn’t work that way,” Doc Gleason scoffed. “Believe me, I’ve
done extensive research on this. The mind and memories are a complicated
network. They’re unpredictable. You can’t force someone to remember.”
“So you told us.” The boss’s words were like gravel. And his whole
body was a powder keg. There seemed to be much more he wanted to say. I
stepped to within an inch of him. Our bodies almost touching. The tip of my
shoes meeting his. The room was just reduced to him and me.
“Tell me,” I said softly.
His throat showed rapid movement, like he was trying to swallow. “You
weren’t a bookie’s girlfriend.”
Somehow, my mind had already accepted that I’d been living a lie. My
whole body was lighting up with the first and significant truth that would
clue me in to who I was before Rayne Parish.
His jaw clenched with determination.
“You’re my wife, Natalya.”
I saw the truth in his eyes, but an excruciating pain blasted through the
chambers of my heart, a pitiful cry escaping my lips.
I will never love you.
The edges of my vision darkened, and then there was no more.

Luca

“Natalya!”
I caught her in my arms when her knees gave way. Then her eyes rolled
back but not before slaying me with the anguish that flashed through them.
The wounded sound that escaped her lips clawed at my chest. Did she
remember something? What was it?
 My questions stampeded on each other. Dario spread his jacket on the
dusty cement flooring. I laid Natalya on top of it and leaned over her,
glaring at the doctor. “What happened?”
“Obviously, the shock was too much for her.” The doctor winced, going
to his knees. “I’m getting too old for this.”
He put his fingers on her pulse. “Her heartbeat is fine. See? She’s
already coming around.”
Natalya’s lids fluttered. “What…?” Then, as if remembering something,
she whispered, “Oh my God.”
She leaned on one side to get up.
“Is she okay to sit up?” I barked.
“I’m fine,” she responded too quickly for my liking.
“Does this happen often?” It was an exercise in patience not to be
apprised of everything about her condition. I was worried. I was angry. I
was everything I shouldn’t be feeling, because Natalya needed my
reassurance.
“Once or twice?” She angled away from me toward the doctor, and I
resisted the urge to pull her back. She should be turning to me.
“Did you remember something?”
She puffed a breath and shook her head but averted her gaze. Instead,
she said, “I think I need to lie down.”
“Stubborn as ever.” I scooped her up, ignoring her protests, rose to my
feet, and walked toward the exit.
“I live in—”
Impatience slowed my strides. “I know where you live, but you’re
coming home with me.”
She started to struggle. “You can’t simply kidnap me!”
I lowered her to her feet but grabbed her biceps. “You are my wife. You
are not spending another second away from me and—” I caught myself. I
was about to say Elias.
“And? And what? Your arrogant ass?” she cried.
“Is she always this difficult?” I asked Dr. Gleason.
“Well, she is persistent.”
That was a rhetorical question, but whatever. “You’re coming with us
too.”
The doc chuckled like I’d lost my mind. “I don’t think so.”
“I’m not giving you a choice either.”
 He glanced at Natalya. “He is an arrogant ass.”
“I’m picking you up again. I’d prefer if you don’t struggle because the
last thing I want is to drop you on your head, but then again, maybe that
might jar your memory.”
“Asshole,” she muttered before putting her fingers against her temple.
“Is your head hurting?”
“If it’s hurting, it’s because you’re a steamrolling asshole who is forcing
me into doing things I don’t want.”
My fists clenched at my sides. “Do you need a sedative for this trip?”
“Unbelievable.” She turned away from me and staggered to the entrance
of the warehouse.
I followed closely, but when she nearly stumbled, I swooped her up in
my arms again.
“You’re making me dizzy.”
“Stop fighting it. Close your eyes.”
It was as though the fight went out of her. “I’m so tired.”
“She’s having information overload,” the doctor said.
“You think telling her she’s my wife triggered something?” I had a
feeling it did, but I was a coward to press her because she didn’t react
favorably. She was hiding something.
Gleason didn’t immediately respond, but when he did, he said, “The
brain is processing. Give her time.”
We came up on the Escalade. The doctor asked, “Who are you people?”
Before I could think of an answer, one of my men came to me. “Boss,
Tony called. He had to jet from Bailey’s apartment.”
“Why?”
Natalya’s eyes popped open. “I’m never going to forgive you if you hurt
Brad.”
“Seems the cops came around. He got out using a window.”
The woman in my arms gave a brief laugh. “Brad sent them the
Maserati’s license plate.”
I tipped my chin for my soldier to open the door. “One thing we need to
get squared away is your loyalties, tesoro.”
My eyes met Dario’s over the doctor’s shoulder. He gave a tight nod,
which meant he took precautions and switched license plates. We did this
whenever we went out of town. The plates would come up stolen.
“Doctor, you’ll ride with my friend.”
 The old man seemed conflicted, but I bet he didn’t want to be separated
from his most interesting patient.
“This is a small town, but I have patients.”
“You’ve taken vacations to Europe and gone to conferences. What do
you do then?”
Dr. Gleason split a look between Dario and me, then stared at Natalya.
She had her eyes closed, but I was sure she was still conscious to the
surrounding conversation.
The doctor exhaled a resigned sigh. “I’ll make arrangements.”
“You shouldn’t let him trample over you too,” Natalya groaned.
The soldier, who informed me of Tony’s flight from the coffee house,
came back and said, “Tony is behind the diner from lunch today. We sent a
car for him. There’s an ambulance in front of the coffeeshop.”
“They’re going to check out Gleason’s house next.” That was the next
logical choice. “We’re leaving.”

The Maserati followed the Escalade into our private airstrip near Grafton.
The Cessna jet I used to fly down here sat in the hangar. Our pilot already
had the plane warmed up and ready to go. The license plate would register
to a stolen vehicle in Chicago that made it to one of our chop shops. Dario
was monitoring local police channels and there was an APB for a dark blue
Maserati with stolen plates. It would be stupid for Dario to drive back to
Chicago with the doctor in it.
“Seriously, who are you people?” Gleason repeated his earlier question
as he stared at the plane.
Natalya resisted my help to get out of the vehicle. In fact, she flat-out
refused to get out of the SUV. “You can’t do this. Doc”—she looked
remorsefully at Gleason—“I’m sorry my crap is affecting you.” Then back
at me, she flung more accusations. “You’re destroying his practice.”
The doctor regarded me thoughtfully before returning his gaze to
Natalya. “Somehow I think this isn’t new for these guys.” Then he asked
me, “Where are we going? You should tell us that at least.”
“Chicago.”
“Fuck,” Gleason said. “No wonder you look familiar.”
“Familiar? Well, he still doesn’t look familiar to me,” Natalya retorted.
“Are you coming on your own, or do I have to sedate you?” I asked her.
She looked at the doc again. “Who is he?”
 “You can call me Luca.” Fuck if I let someone else introduce me.
Natalya was trying to think too hard again. I could feel her eyes
panicking when her gaze flew back to the doctor.
“Luca Moretti,” Doc Gleason said incredulously. “The Chicago mob.”
“Wh-what?” Even from her stubborn position inside the vehicle, she
seemed to sway.
“Come on, Natalya.” That declaration of who I was seemed to have
drained the fight out of her and I easily gathered her into my arms.
“I can’t get away, can I?” Her words walloped me with a guilt I tried to
ignore.
I wanted her surrender, not her defeat. “I’m afraid not.”
“The don of the Chicago mob.” Gleason, for his part, seemed excited
with the discovery. He turned to Dario. “And you are?”
I left my friend to explain.
Once we were in the air, the doctor seemed more cooperative. Even
drank scotch with us. The configuration of the seating allowed for a face-to-
face among four people. Natalya kept a protective arm around her body as
she stuck to the window, staring into the darkness and ignoring the men.
She shut down after she found out who I was. I didn’t think her memory
had come back. She thought she was a bookie’s girlfriend. A far cry from a
man in my position.
I quizzed Gleason on what to expect and how to care for my wife.
“I want fresh X-rays,” I told the doctor. “I have connections at a
hospital.”
“To be honest, I’ve never dealt with long-term memory loss from
trauma. Most of the time, my patients got their memories back in a few
days. One patient lasted a few weeks. But the bulk of the memories came
back all at once.”
“Will exposure to familiar surroundings help?”
“Oh, definitely…” Then the doctor punted. “Still unpredictable.”
I looked at Dario. “Have you informed the mansion’s staff?”
“Yes. Rocco said they’ve activated lockdown.”
“Lockdown?” Natalya finally gave us her attention. “Doc and I are
going to be your prisoners?”
“I don’t know who did this to you,” I said. “It’s for your protection.”
“How sure are you I didn’t leave you on purpose?”
 The fingers of my right hand dug into the seat’s leather arm. She just
struck at the theory that brought me rage in the past two years. “You
wouldn’t leave me because you were in love with me.” Plus, you wouldn’t
leave Elias. How do I tell her we have a son?
She laughed derisively. “Right now, I hate you. I don’t want to go back
with you.”
I blanched. She delivered those words with venom and they left no
doubt her past feelings for me were gone. Yet here I was, still in love with
her and not willing to let her go again. I chased the pain that punched in my
chest with two fingers of scotch.
Dario stared at me like he didn’t know whether to laugh or be concerned
for Natalya. Did he think I would hurt her? It was a miracle I managed to
smile through all the fucked-up emotions she wrenched out of me. They
were uncomfortable and unwelcome.
Even if I deserved them.
“You’ll realize you love me,” I told her. When her eyes narrowed at my
confidence, I added, “And you’ll wonder what the fuss is all about.”
I waited with bated breath for her reply.
She was still staring at me and studying my face, after which she said,
“Please tell me I wasn’t stupid enough to fall for your looks.”
“That was part of it, I presume.” I leaned into her conspiratorially. “You
were infatuated. You were a virgin, and I was the first man who gave you
the orgasms you deserved.”
She blushed and glanced away.
Ahh…there was my Natalya.
Dr. Gleason also found the window interesting, while Dario was
choking on his drink.
“You’re impossible,” she muttered.
“I’m merely stating the facts. Why, in the last—” I cut myself off. I
nearly said the last months of her pregnancy. “That’s why I wouldn’t
believe that you would leave me willingly.”
“Why?” Her head swiveled back in my direction, face full of
indignation. “Because I couldn’t get enough of your cock?”
I grinned. “Don’t forget my mouth.”
“Aaaallll right,” Dario interrupted. “Could we save the sexual history
for later? That’s TMI.”
 I stared at the doc. “What do you say, Gleason? You think sex would jolt
her memory?”
She sputtered. “You’re the last man—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I cut in sharply. “Brad Bailey is lucky to
escape with his life. I would have burned that cute little coffee shop of his
to the ground.”
“You really would have shot him? Burned down his business?”
“He touched what’s mine,” I gritted.
“Get over yourself.”
Dario kicked my foot to remind me I had to tread carefully. It was unfair
to level my self-righteousness at Natalya.
I had no qualms when it came to killing men who did the same illegal
shit that I did, but I drew the line at killing innocent people unless I had no
choice but to defend myself. If they tried to kill me, they ceased to be
innocent. I had a very fine line. If Brad drew a gun on me, I would have
shot him without question and had no problems sleeping at night. I always
welcomed an alternative unless a person is beyond redemption and there
was no choice but to put him down.
Realizing Natalya had amnesia reduced the acid that ate at my insides
when I saw her kiss another man.
But the image was forever seared into my memory. My rage competed
with an overwhelming urge to reclaim her. I’d caged the possessive beast
inside me, but it was rattling the bars that were keeping me sane.
I clamped my mouth shut before I said anything stupid that would make
her resist me.

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 Chapter
Twenty-Five

R ayne

I will never love you.

I woke up in the dark on a bed that wasn’t mine, and in clothes I didn’t
recognize. I thought I was still in that nightmare. A room of gold. A long
table that stretched from end to end. A faceless man sitting at its head, and I
was on the opposite end. I was being punished for something. A distance
stretched between us that felt more than physical. The walls of the room
were endless, and he seemed unreachable.
I woke up with an ache in my head and a loss in my heart.
“Natalya, are you okay?” A voice spoke in the darkness and I saw
movement on the couch.
Luca. It was the voice from my dream, which felt more like a
nightmare.
Natalya was my name, but I still couldn’t respond to it. It was as if there
was an impermeable membrane between my old memories and who I was
now. On the plane, my brain struggled, and it gave me an almighty
migraine. I asked for a painkiller, but it seemed the bastard gave me a
sedative.
I sat up on the bed. “You drugged me.”
The figure rose from the couch and approached the bed. “It was for your
own good.”
“You’ve known me less than a day and you’re making decisions for
me.”
 “Gleason saw what I gave you.”
I looked around me. “So where am I? Is this room my new prison?”
He sat on the bed. “It’s not. I didn’t want to overwhelm you when we
came home. It’s best to start with this room.”
“Am I to be locked up here?”
“No.”
He reached out a hand, but I flinched. “I need to pee.” My bladder was
so full, it was a surprise I didn’t wet myself.
He assisted me without asking and I let him, but after a couple of steps
when I was sure I wouldn’t fall over, I said, “I got this.”
He exhaled a frustrated breath. “I only want your comfort, Natalya.”
I lumbered into the bathroom and shut the door on him.
“I will stand out here, and if I hear nothing in two minutes, I’m breaking
down this door.”
“God! Would you let a woman pee in peace?” I grumbled as I sat down
on the toilet and let the pressure go. I looked around the bathroom, taking in
the luxurious space of gold and white marble. There was an elegant soaking
tub, and a glass-enclosed shower with one of those rainfall showerheads.
After I finished, I flushed the toilet to let Luca know I was still alive.
There was no doubt which side of the double sink was his and hers. I
inspected the lotions, cleansers, and moisturizers on one side. They were
high-end ones and nothing compared to the drugstore variety I used on my
face. I grabbed the toothbrush and scrubbed out the cotton from my mouth.
Even the toothpaste tasted expensive.
“Can you please open this door?”
Arguing wasn’t worth it, so while brushing my teeth, I unlocked the
door. The light from the bathroom revealed a disheveled Luca. Far from the
commanding mafia boss of earlier, he had bloodshot eyes with bags under
them that weren’t there before, and his trim beard needed grooming. When I
met him this morning—yesterday morning—he was obviously meticulous
about his facial hair.
I gave him an unimpressed once-over and resumed my place in front of
the mirror.
“It would make me feel better about your care if you are less
argumentative,” he told me.
I almost choked on the toothpaste. I quickly gargled and pinned his
image in the mirror with my stare. “Let’s get one thing straight. While I
figure out who I am in your life, it is not my responsibility to make you feel
better.”
“But it is mine.”
“I don’t care if you make me feel better. All I want is the truth.”
“We have to be careful.”
“Don’t baby me.”
“The doctor—”
“We will run it by the doc, but I don’t want you hovering around me.
Clearly, I survived without you these past two years. I’m not delicate.”
His eyes flashed and he stalked inside. Alarmed, I spun around and he
caged me against the sink.
“No. You’re selfish.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not the one who lives with the memory that I had failed to
protect my wife,” he gritted. “You’re not the one who has to live with the
torment of not knowing if you were alive or dead. Of what happened to
you. If you had left me on purpose.”
The torment in his eyes clogged the words I wanted to say. “You said I
loved you. Why would you think I left you?”
He leaned away slightly, jaw hardening, before he took a full step back.
“There’s much to unpack here. I might know, and then I might not.” He
caught his lower lip between his teeth as if giving himself more time to
frame his words.
“You’re speaking in riddles and it’s making me nervous. You think I
could sleep after you leave me with something like this?”
“Do you need another sedative?”
I huffed an irritated breath. “Is that your answer to everything?”
“I’m doing it for your own good.”
“Again with the high-handedness.”
“You’ll get used to it.” He extended his arms as though he couldn’t help
it. I understood he was used to giving orders, but did I sympathize? No.
“How long were we married?”
He gave a start, as if surprised by my question. “Less than a year.”
“I was barely twenty-three when I disappeared?”
“You were.”
“Luca.” He knew me when I was younger, but I think I’d changed in the
last two years. “I don’t think I’m the same girl anymore.”
 He was quiet for what felt like a minute. It lasted seconds. Finally, he
said, “No. You’re not.”
“How can you say you love me the same?” He was quiet again, and this
time it did last longer. The refreshing taste of the toothpaste turned more
acidic the longer he didn’t respond.
He was struggling to say something. The rise and fall of his chest and
the clenching of his jaw gave him away.
“You’re not sure, are you?”
“This is not conversation for now,” he clipped. He held out his hand.
“Come.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea that we sleep in the same room.” My
indignation at the sleeping situation was delayed, but I needed to voice it.
When I didn’t take his hand, he simply grabbed mine and tugged, and I
stumbled into him. I glared up at his amused face. That face came closer.
“Since I’m the person who would most likely trigger your memory, I’d say
it’s a good idea. But your concern is noted. For now, we’ll sleep in the same
room. I’m on the couch anyway. We can decide later what is appropriate.”
“Why can’t—”
“Sleep. You’ll need it.” I sensed foreboding in his words, but for the
first time since I met Luca, his touch gave me reassurance, and I clung to
his hand as he led me to the bed.
He tucked me in like he would a child.
I blinked up at him, his features hidden in the backlit window. I felt
rather than saw the tenderness in his eyes.
“Good night, tesoro.” He stroked my face lightly like I was the most
precious thing. “I’ll be right here if you need anything.”
He bent further and kissed my forehead lightly.
I thought I wouldn’t be able to sleep, but I was wrong, because next I
blinked, an arrow of sunlight peeked through the drawn drapes of the
darkened room. Luca must have pulled them closed because I remembered
moonlight bathing the room through its tall windows.
My gaze followed the lines of the room. If this was our bedroom before,
I had poor taste in interior design. The curtains were beige, and save for the
expensive Persian rugs on the floor, the room was basic. The walls needed a
repaint and I couldn’t even identify the shade. Taupe? Green? The closet
took over an entire wall. It was a stark contrast to my life in Danvers.
 I sat up carefully, glad that my brain was sharper and the fog from the
sedative had lifted.
Natalya. The name didn’t grate. I didn’t have any nightmares or dreams
either, or if I did, I had no recollection. My eyes fell on the sleeping form on
the sofa. That couldn’t be comfortable. Luca was a big guy. The sofa wasn’t
long enough to fit his entire frame, and he had a foot resting on the floor,
while the other one was cocked on the couch. He had a pillow underneath
his head and an arm thrown across his forehead.
During our earlier conversation in the bathroom, I tried very hard not to
look past his face. He’d been wearing a white undershirt and drawstring
pajamas, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he slept in the nude.
Heat rose to my cheeks, reminding me of his filthy words on the plane.
In front of Dr. Gleason no less. It was not said in a medical way either.
“Yes, we did have sexual intercourse, and I gave you cunnilingus.” And
despite the sedative, how my body reacted to him was appalling.
Gingerly, I left the bed and padded barefoot toward the sleeping Luca. I
couldn’t help staring at his crotch. With the position of his legs, his morning
wood was clearly outlined, and it was impressive. I gulped. That thing had
been inside me. Wetness pulsed between my legs and a force propelled my
feet to move closer.
I stared at his face. So beautiful in his sleep. Even with the roughness of
his beard, it couldn’t hide the chiseled proportions of his jaw, the proud
nose. His mouth was firm yet also held a hint of a pout. Dark brows, thick
lashes.
Next, my gaze strayed down his white shirt. It wasn’t one of those
skintight ones I saw Brad wear, but the way it clung to him, the bulges and
the dips, hinted of a man who kept in shape. My eyes couldn’t help looking
at his erection again.
“Like what you see?”
I sprang back with a yelp, my heart leaping to my throat.
Luca’s eyes were slightly more open. It was hard to tell he wasn’t
sleeping, save for the sly tilt to the corners of his mouth.
“There’s much to do. Get up.” I escaped into the bathroom and slammed
the door. I did my business and brushed my teeth.
The door swung open and Luca walked in. “Are you always going to
run to the bathroom when the conversation becomes uncomfortable?”
 “I…” I spat the toothpaste. He was standing with his back to me and
was going to piss. “Couldn’t you wait until I’m done?” I hurriedly rinsed
my mouth.
He chuckled, unperturbed. “I need to take a leak.”
I rushed out from the room and he called, “I’ll be more mindful next
time.”
While Luca did his morning routine, I investigated the closet. A row of
suits in blue, gray, and black and white dress shirts were arranged in an
orderly fashion. Underneath them were several pairs of shoes. Tucked in
another corner was more casual wear.
I felt him before he spoke in my ear. “Your clothes are over there.
Martha has laundered a few.”
I bent forward so I could look behind me. The clean, woodsy scent of
his aftershave assailed my nostrils and stirred a longing inside me to lean
closer. His hair was wet, his chest bare, and I dared not look lower.
A mischievous glint entered his eyes. “Normally, you’d appreciate me
walking around naked, but I considered your recent puritanical
sensibilities.”
Of course, my eyes lowered and was relieved and maybe a tad
disappointed he had a towel slung around his hips.
I wanted to inhale all of him and my body felt like it was coming down
with a fever. Why couldn’t I have reacted this way to other men? Was my
DNA drawn to his? At this point, my logic was appalling, and my body’s
reaction infuriated me.
Luca Moretti was too potent for my senses. I needed some kind of
armor against him. I was ill-prepared to handle a man like him. “When
don’t you wear suits?”
“I like wearing them.”
“Obviously.”
His mouth quirked. “But I dressed more casual for you when I stayed
here.”
“Stayed here? Oh, you mean we also lived in Chicago?”
His gaze dropped. “Do you want to shower now, or after breakfast?” He
moved away from me to rifle through the more casual section of his clothes.
I stared at his back for a long time, baffled for an instant with his retreat,
but maybe there was something “shocking” with that as well.
 He pulled on a worn-out tee, before casting me a brief glance. “There’s
more to it, and I don’t want to get into it right now.”
Fair enough. He gave me no choice but to turn away when he whipped
off the towel. I caught a glimpse of cock nestled against dark hair in
between muscular thighs. I ran out of the closet and heard Luca’s laughter.
Asshole.
In my rush to get out of the closet, I forgot to bring clothes, and I was
too chicken to return to the closet to pick them out. I locked the bathroom
door, but it was the kind of lock that could easily be rigged, and I wouldn’t
put it past Luca to barge in if he really wanted to. I was getting the idea that
he was a man who did as he pleased.
I found a terrycloth robe in the bathroom closet and decided that would
do. The rainfall shower did a lot to improve my mood. All those dopamine
receptors were welcome. After I dried my hair, I returned to the bedroom to
see Luca back on the couch, bare feet propped on a leather cube, and
texting.
Clothes were laid out on the bed.
“You picked out my clothes?”
He glanced up briefly from the screen. “Don’t get too excited.” His eyes
gave me a head-to-toe appraisal before he shook his head, grinned
mysteriously, and shifted in his seat. “That’s what you typically wear
around the house.” He told me without looking at me and resumed typing
into the phone.
Expensive threads, tailored linen pants, and printed orange flowers on a
silk blouse. Lacy panties sat folded beside it.
“You’re a bit thinner.” He finally put the phone away and leaned back to
watch me lazily. It made me wish I had on more than a robe, but I wasn’t
giving him the satisfaction of letting him know he flustered me. “We’ll put
some meat back on you soon enough.”
My chin tilted up. “You’re confident that I’ll accept being your wife
again.”
That seemed to annoy him. Good. Payback was sweet.
“No divorce.” He stood and stalked toward me, invading my space, he
lowered his head. “We won’t throw away our marriage.”
“What if I never get my memory back?”
“Then we’ll start from scratch.”
“What if I changed too much and we’re no longer compatible?”
 “Why all the negativity?” he shot back. A slight sneer touched his
mouth. “You truly think I couldn’t make you love me again? We’re
compatible in bed.” His gaze didn’t even move down my body, but just the
heat in them made my skin sensitive to the fabric of the robe.
“Marriage is more than sex.”
“Don’t challenge me, tesoro,” he whispered, but the tone left no
question what the challenge was. “I’m trying to be less of a villain here. I
already have too many points against me.”
“And you’re the type to keep score?”
“I’m not heartless, you know.” For a moment, our gazes locked and the
flash of anguish in his eyes pulled the same emotion from my heart. It
reminded me of what he told me about being the one left behind and not
knowing.
“I know this is too much to take in.” He cleared his throat. “A husband.
This house. The challenge is only beginning.” He turned away and walked
back to the couch. “Get dressed. After Gleason looks you over, there’s
someone I want you to meet.”

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 Chapter
Twenty-Six

R ayne

“Your vitals are good.” Doc Gleason folded away the blood pressure
monitor. We were in Luca’s study. I was actually starving and wanted
breakfast first, but the doc wanted to draw blood. When Luca and I walked
in, I was surprised to see him unwrapping diagnostic instruments, and he
already had a stethoscope around his neck.
“You sleep okay?” Doc asked.
“I did,” I replied from my position on the recliner. “And you? Did they
treat you well?”
“You expect me to answer anything but yes?” He chuckled, glancing at
Luca, who was leaning against his desk, observing us. He was still in a tee
and sweatpants and dark sneakers. Somehow I got the impression those
weren’t his usual attire.
“I assure you, tesoro, we did not keep the doc locked up in the
basement.” He cast an amused glance at the doctor. “Please tell her you
were in a room with amenities that could rival a five-star hotel.”
The doc shrugged. “Five-star living is pushing it, but it wasn’t bad.
Good mattress, and Martha said if I didn’t give her any headaches, she’d
give me a good breakfast.”
“Do I know her?” I asked Luca.
“Doesn’t ring any bells?”
“No.”
He exchanged a look with the doctor. “Are you done with her?”
 “As much as I can do given the tools available.” He transferred the
samples into a medical cooler.
“Kingsley would have been here if she didn’t have appointments this
morning. She’ll pick those up this afternoon.”
“She and I had an interesting conversation this morning.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and split a look between the two. “And
this Kingsley. I assume she’s a doctor too. Was she my doctor?”
Luca straightened and walked toward me. A guarded expression
shuttered his face, and I wondered if this checkup was to make sure I could
withstand the revelations of the day. Was he going to tell me I took part in
the family business? Most of what I’d learned about organized crime was
when I researched St. Louis gangs and from binge-watching The Sopranos.
For the mafia, the women remained oblivious to the husband’s business and
played up their social standing in charities and churches. Also, I woke up
realizing I spoke Italian. It was part of my semantic memory. That would
explain why I had a light foreign accent in the beginning. I wondered if I’d
been in America illegally and why I was afraid to dig deeper about who I
was and worked hard to give myself a Midwestern accent.
I straightened in my recliner while Luca crouched in front of me. “You
know Martha and Rachel Kingsley very well. Martha has been the
housekeeper here for thirty years. She was like a mother figure to me, and I
believe to you too. Rachel was your doctor when you were pregnant.”
My heart pounded in my ears. “Were?” My throat constricted. I dragged
the question out. “Did I lose the baby?”
Luca braced my knees and shook his head. “No. We have a son.” He
smiled in a way that was both heartbreak and joy.
A son!
“Is he okay?” I croaked.
“He’s fine, Natalya.” For the first time since I’d met Luca, his eyes
gleamed with tears. “He’s two.” His voice was ragged and full of an
emotion I was waiting to come to me.
I waited to feel something other than shock and heartbreak over the lost
years, but there was a feeling I couldn’t identify. Not sadness or joy. But
something else.
The smile on Luca’s face faded and his eyes dimmed. “Say something.”
The words cracked with desperation.
 “I always wondered why I was sad whenever I saw children and
pregnant women.” I glanced at my clenched fingers on my lap. “Was I a bad
mother?” I looked up suddenly. “Please be honest. Because…” I beat on my
chest with a fist, finally identifying the feeling inside me. “I feel
undeserving.”
Shock met my eyes. “Natalya, you were a fantastic mother.” Luca slid
his hands up my thighs to move closer. Then he lifted my chin with a finger.
I didn’t realize I had lowered my eyes again. “You were going through
postpartum difficulties, but never doubt that you were an excellent mother.”
“You’re not telling me that to make me feel better?” I asked. “Because
if my memory comes back, and I find out you’ve been sparing my feelings,
that’s going to be worse.”
“You were a wonderful mother to Elias.” The warmth in his eyes and
tone eased the self-doubt, but something was still not adding up.
“He couldn’t be more than a few months old when I disappeared.”
“Eight weeks.”
“Did I breastfeed?” I didn’t know why my mind went to my breasts.
“Because shouldn’t I be like…” I cupped my hands like I was holding
melons in front of my chest.
“You did complain about breast tenderness,” Doc Gleason said. “I
attributed it to hormonal changes from the trauma you experienced, but
Doctor Kingsley and I talked about your health right before you
disappeared and—”
Luca glanced sharply at the doctor. “I thought we weren’t overloading
her?”
“She needs to see the big picture,” Doc told him before continuing.
“She was sure you were heading into a state of postpartum depression and
were feeling inadequate because you stopped producing breast milk.”
The doctor leaned against the overhang of the window. One arm
wrapped around his torso. The other arm was cocked and resting on it. He
was tapping a finger on his mouth and scrutinizing me like a specimen
under a microscope.
Luca and I waited for him to say something until the man in front of me
lost patience. “Is there something else you want to say before I introduce
Natalya to our son? Is it the right time to do so?”
“You think after dropping that bombshell I can just forget you
mentioned him?” I fired at him.
 “I don’t want our son to be forced to acknowledge his mother either.”
I opened my mouth, but a searing pain in my heart caused me to clamp
it shut. I didn’t know what Luca saw on my face, but I recognized remorse
when I saw it.
“Natalya, I didn’t mean…” he started, but it was too late.
“Forget it,” I snapped. “Talk about the big picture. I’m seeing the state
of our marriage.”
“That’s not fair,” he growled. “I just want what’s best for our son and
for you.”
Pushing my bruised feelings aside because he was right, and
acknowledging that his lack of sensitivity was part of his personality, I
wondered who I was then. I angled my head toward the doc. “Any ideas?
Are you seeing the bigger picture now? Why I still can’t remember who I
was before I lost my memory because I sure as hell don’t think I like the
person I was then.”
“Don’t say that.” Luca’s voice was hoarse. “You were perfect, very
giving. I was the problem. I didn’t take care of you the way I should have.”
“So you’re admitting you could have caused me to run away?”
“I don’t think so,” he insisted. “But you were hiding things from me.”
“I’m so confused,” I said. “Did you think I left you on purpose or not?”
“Before I lose track of my deductions,” the doc interjected. “I’m
thinking the amnesia is both physical and psychological. Doctor Kingsley
indicated you had feelings of inadequacy as Elias’s mom. What could have
happened that night must have worked with your feelings of inadequacy.
Your mental state wasn’t at its best, and your mind disassociated from your
current reality.”
“Being married to Luca and being a mother?” I clarified.
“Correct.”
“Will she be ready to meet Elias?” Luca asked.
“I met the kid. Cute boy.” Doc grinned in a way that, for the first time,
excitement rather than dread took hold of me. “Go for it. It’s better than
speculating on what did or didn’t happen in your marriage.” He looked
pointedly at me while Luca typed something on his phone. “Your mind is in
a vulnerable but open state right now. The right stimulus might trigger an
avalanche of memories.”
Luca put the phone away. “Martha is bringing Elias.” He paced a figure
eight before he smacked his forehead with his palm. “Fuck. We didn’t talk
about how to introduce you.”
“I think it’s best if you just introduce me as a friend first?” I said. “That
way less pressure on both of us.”
Luca scrubbed his face. “I didn’t think this through.”
“I’m not a child psychologist, but Martha and I discussed this briefly
when I saw the boy,” Doc said.
“Martha is not a psychologist either,” Luca pointed out.
“Look, I’m just a doctor in a small town, but I’ve encountered situations
like this regarding kids meeting new people. It’s nothing new. And since
we’re not introducing Rayne as his mother, just behave like you would
introducing other people. Elias, I presume, has strong attachments to you
and Martha as his primary caregivers. The toughest part for kids that age is
insecurity. As long as one of you is in the room, he’ll be fine.”
“Don’t force him to interact with me,” I said.
Luca wasn’t able to respond before the light knock came on the door.
While holding my eyes, he called out, “Come in.”
The door opened. I held my breath. A toddler came barreling through
and said in a lilting voice, “Dadda! Papà.”
The boy didn’t even notice me and went straight to Luca. He was
beautiful, with a head of dark, bouncy curls. Luca caught him in his arms
and lifted him. “How’s my bombolino?” He turned to face us. “Say hi to
Papà’s friend.”
“Hi.” Elias stared at me for two seconds before cupping Luca’s face.
“Waffles.”
“You hungry, sport?”
“Yas!”
Then Elias found Doc Gleason more interesting over Luca’s shoulders.
“He’s beautiful,” I breathed. I was still wrapping my mind around
having a son. My arms itched to wrap around the wiggly bundle in Luca’s
arms. Luca was staring at me while his son tried to reach over to grab the
stethoscope around Doc’s neck.
“Give him time,” Luca said in a quiet voice.
“It’s totally fine. I just can’t believe…this.” No words would come.
“Natalya…” a tremulous voice said beside me.
I turned to see a woman in her late fifties or early sixties. I was so
transfixed on Elias, I totally forgot there was another person in the room. A
hopeful expression crossed her face and her eyes were bright with unshed
tears.
“I don’t know you.” My voice cracked as I rose to my feet. “But I guess,
you’re Martha?”
She nodded vigorously and her mouth twisted, attempting to hold back
a sob while forming words.
“Thank you for taking care of Elias.” I made a move toward her, unsure
of myself, but Martha closed the distance and hugged me tight. Then she
started sobbing.
“Nonna is crying,” Elias said in the garbled language of a toddler, but I
had no trouble deciphering.
“She is because she’s happy,” Luca told him
I turned toward Elias. “Your nonna is my friend, too.”
The boy puckered his brows, and even if I wasn’t versed in toddler
death glares, that laser suspicion was aimed at me.
“Martha,” Luca said, his tone firm, lowering our son. “Take Elias to the
breakfast room.”
The older woman let go, dabbed at her eyes and sniffed. She went to
Elias to guide him out.
It didn’t take a child expert to see that Elias had a different attachment
to his dad.
The boy pouted. “Papà…eat?”
“Yes.” He smiled reassuringly. “We’ll follow.”
“K.”
Before leaving, Elias turned his little body my way and said, “Bye.”
“Bye, Elias. See you at breakfast.” He nodded like an adult before
allowing himself to be led from the room.
Collective exhales signified how a toddler could cause so much tension.
“First hurdle over,” Doc commented.
“I pictured that encounter differently.” Luca scratched his brow, his
shoulders sagging with the weight of disappointment.
“I think it went well,” I said. “I’d be worried if he took to a stranger
quickly.”
Luca gave a shake of his head and the corner of his mouth lifted in a
smile that was more self-mockery than cheer. His gaze fell to the desk, and
he started to fiddle with the stacks of paper there. “He likes Tony and
Rocco.”
 I did not know why I felt the need to reassure him. “He is too young to
remember me.”
“You don’t seem put out,” he said in a disgruntled tone that amused me
rather than irritated me. “If my son treated me like chopped liver, I’d be
very hurt.”
“Luca, goodness. This is new even for me. I can’t invent emotions that
are not there.”
My reply didn’t appease him, and he continued to find the desk more
interesting than the people around him. It gave me another perspective into
Elias. He was interested in me, but he was uncertain about the situation, like
his father was right now. I didn’t want to point it out because it was just my
conclusion to what happened. “Come on. I’m hungry.”
“Baby steps,” the doctor punned, unhooking the stethoscope from his
neck and putting it in the case. “And yes, where’s breakfast?”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter
Twenty-Seven

L uca

To say this entire morning had become a shitshow was putting it mildly. It
wasn’t what I was picturing at all. First in my study, it was Elias who was
avoiding his mother. Fine. I could deal with that. But I’d been looking
forward to us finally sitting down and having breakfast as a family.
I was sitting at the head of the table. Natalya was on my left with the
doctor beside her. On my right, Martha was feeding Elias.
This time, it was Natalya who was the one unreceptive with our son. I
wondered if Elias’s rejection earlier in the study was having a delayed
reaction.
My boy had been trying to get her attention, and all she did was brush
him off.
“Natya…wafs,” my son asked his mother. Elias rarely offered his food
to anyone, including me.
“I’m good,” she said with a smile I had hoped to never see again. It was
the smile she gave me the day I took her home after giving birth to Elias. A
smile that was resigned and one that was frozen in place when I wished she
would get angry at me instead.
The flesh of my fingers dug into the stem of the fork. I leaned into her.
“What’s wrong with your food?”
“It’s fine.” She wouldn’t look at me. It wasn’t fine. I glanced at the
doctor. He was giving Natalya a speculative gaze too.
“Good. Fine,” I said. “Are you sure?”
 She didn’t answer.
I sliced the waffle with more vigor than was necessary and popped a
piece into my mouth. While I chewed, my gaze wandered around the table,
falling upon Elias first. He was bubbly when we came in. He usually was
when food was within reach, but now my son had turned sullen.
The day was going downhill fast.
I chewed the waffle with precision, swallowed it, and put another bite in
my mouth. My jaw started to hurt with the chewing, but it also could be
from the tension that had fallen over the room.
So much so that I got irritated when Natalya picked up a piece of bacon
and took a minuscule bite. The only ones at the table who were truly eating
were the doctor and me.
Natalya, realizing what she had done, pasted a smile on her face so wide
I’d be surprised if she didn’t pull a cheek muscle. “Are you full, Elias?”
He nodded.
“Then can I have your waffle?”
He nodded again.
Natalya pushed her plate across the table and my son picked up the
piece with his hand and transferred it to her plate.
“Thank you.”
“Yo welcome.”
“Papà…canna go?” Insecurity filled the expression on my son’s face.
He wasn’t comfortable at the table and wanted to play with his trucks.
Fuck. I was raging inside, but my rage was directed at myself. In my
eagerness to get my family back, I might have caused more problems.
“Go ahead, sport, but no running.” I tipped my chin to Martha, who
looked concerned.
When they left, I put down my fork and knife and steepled my fingers.
“Do you want something else to eat?”
Natalya’s head was bowed in defeat, and a jolt of fear pushed out my
anger. Static raised the hair on the back of my neck.
When her gaze lifted to mine, my lungs expanded with that fear.
“I can’t do this.” The chair scraped back. She stood and ran out of the
dining room.
“What the fuck?” I surged out of my own and went after her.
I spotted her retreating figure running into the gardens.
 I lengthened my strides and followed her. I found her at the edge of the
patio, bent over and sobbing.
I touched her shoulder. She spun around and batted my hand away.
The poison-soaked glare she shot my way had me flinching.
Her cheeks were wet with tears. “You don’t love me!”
I never told her. Telling her now would sound lame. “Natalya, I—”
She stabbed her finger in the direction of the mansion, her eyes
accusatory. “Don’t. It was in that room where you told me of your
expectations. You said…I will never love you.”
I stilled. “Your memory is back?”
“No!” She was still yelling, stepping left, stepping right, swaying as if
she would fall, but I was afraid to touch her again. “I wasn’t sure if it was a
fake memory. Since I met you, I had this voice in my head—your voice
telling me this.”
“I’ve changed,” I said.
“Do you love me now?”
“Of course!”
“I don’t believe you.” Fury mixed with her tears. “It doesn’t feel true!”
She pounded a fist on her chest. “In here. I feel it’s a lie.”
I pinched my temples between an index finger and thumb before
gesturing toward her. “I’ve never told you—”
“See!”
“When you disappeared, I realized what a stubborn fool I’d been.” I
took a wary step toward her. It was then I caught sight of Doc Gleason in
the background. “I missed you. I missed you because I loved you.”
She looked up at the sky, still continuing to cry. “The thought that I
would leave you is now making sense. Did you set those expectations when
I was pregnant? It felt like I was pregnant, but that would mean you’ve been
cruel to me for months and I just took it.”
“I was never cruel.”
“Telling me you’ll never love me isn’t cruel?”
“Love is not a requirement in an arranged marriage!” I said. “You were
young, Natalya. You had romantic notions that I was your hero. You had
delusions of making me one.” Fuck, I was gaslighting her. I made her fall in
love with me. “I admit.” I exhaled heavily. “During our honeymoon, I
manipulated you into falling in love with me.”
“Arranged marriage?” she asked. “I…I’m someone?”
 This was getting complicated. I shot the doctor an I’m-fucking-this-up-
so-badly look.
She stopped crying, but her gaze was shooting in all directions. I
couldn’t tell if she was in full-blown panic or a mental spiral of information
overload. And she was continuing to sway.
Fuck it.
I reached for her. And was relieved when she didn’t fight me when I
made her sit on the stone benches that circled the patio.
I crouched in front of her. “You’re the daughter of one of the most
powerful men in Italy.” Or used to be. The Galluzo was in a debatable
position with Carmine at the helm. Despite his year of learning the ropes
from my half brother and me, I doubted he was fit to lead for long. He just
wasn’t forceful enough and the clans would eat him alive.
She looked at Doc Gleason. “You knew this?”
“I googled it on the plane while you slept.”
Her attention returned to me. “What else? What is this manipulation?”
“Natalya…”
“I don’t trust you right now. And if you don’t tell me the truth, if my
memories come back and I find out you lied to me, I’ll find a way to leave
again.”
“You’ll leave Elias?”
“No. I’m taking my son with me.”
I stood, fighting the sneer that threatened to form on my face, reminding
me that the mental state of Natalya was more important than my ego.
“Right now, Elias isn’t comfortable around you.”
“I’m going to work on that.” Tears brimmed her eyes again, but instead
of despair, determination glinted behind those tears. “Because that boy
inside needs to know that I would have never left him.”
“You didn’t. You wouldn’t.”
“What happened that night?” she asked.
“Good question.” I went down on my haunches again. “I don’t know for
sure. You and Elias were kidnapped by Russian thugs, but Orlov—he’s the
head of the Russian mafia in Chicago—swore he had nothing to do with it.”
“How did you get Elias back? And why wasn’t I with him? I wouldn’t
have abandoned him.”
Fringes of hysteria crept into her tone. I got up from my crouch and sat
beside her, enclosed her with my arms, and rested her head on my chest.
She was too overwhelmed to resist, but she needed to hear this.
“You didn’t. They took you and Nessa…she’s the nanny. You left your
locket with them.” I cleared my throat. “There was a tracker on it. You
didn’t know that.”
She had stopped crying, and after a long indrawn breath, she pushed
away and stared up at me. “Is Nessa still here?”
“Yes.”
“Was I close to her?”
Her eyes searched mine. I caught my bottom lip with my teeth and
contemplated what to say.
“Why can’t you answer me?”
“She’s not my biggest fan.”
The doc choked on a laugh.
“What did you do to her?” Her tone was accusatory and all the angst of
those days came crashing back.
I let go of her and sprang to my feet. “She wasn’t you!” I jutted my arm
in her direction and repeated. “She wasn’t you. I traced the tracker and
when she came out from the forest line, I resented her for not being you! I
hated her that day.”
“That’s not fair,” she whispered. Eyes wide in a way that was wonder.
I faced her squarely. Every vein in my body popped with anger and fury
at this whole damned situation. “You think I didn’t know that? I do.”
“Is that why she’s no longer Elias’s nanny?”
My shoulders slumped and the way the rage leaked out of me to be
replaced by despair had enough force to make me take a step back as I said
in a choked whisper, “Our son called her Mamma.”
Natalya’s mouth twitched in despair. Twisting one direction, flattening,
twisting again, and turning down while tears continued to roll down her
cheeks. Finally, on a ragged sob, she only said one word, “Luca…”

Rayne

“Luca…”
 For the first time since I met him, the anguish he experienced with my
disappearance sunk into my lungs and pulled the world from under me. The
enormity of the emotion I was feeling for him was more than the sympathy
I would have had for a stranger in the same situation. Because if I wasn’t
sitting down, I would have fallen to my knees.
In front of me was the broken man he was trying to hide from his family
and our son. In front of me was the husband who had lost his wife and had
to live with the not knowing whether she was alive or dead.
Whether she left him on purpose or his enemies took her.
For me, not knowing who I was had its challenges, but I built a life and
moved on.
I was seeing a man who never moved on.
Was it because he missed me and loved me? Or was it because of the
guilt that he didn’t show me that love before it was too late?
Rising unsteadily, I went to him.
I reached out, but he recoiled.
“Don’t give me your pity,” he said roughly. “I deserve your scorn.”
I believed him. I crossed my arms and glanced at Doc Gleason.
“If it wasn’t too early, I’d say we all need a drink,” he said. “And to
think we’re still missing all the pieces.”
“I want to talk to Nessa,” I told Luca.
His mouth compressed into a thin line, and a muscle pulsed at his jaw.
He slipped out his phone and texted someone. “She works in the kitchen. Is
she ready for this?” His question was directed at Doc Gleason.
“If she was the last person who saw me before I disappeared, don’t you
think it’s important that I talk to her?”
“She’s right. Information could be lost in translation,” the doc said.
“You’ve eaten very little,” Luca said. Either he was really concerned for
my health or he was trying to stall my meeting with Nessa. I hated that I
didn’t completely trust him, but as the blanks were starting to fit into my
memory, my reactions to him were making more sense. He might have
regretted how he treated me during our marriage, but I was a different
person now. I could feel it deep in the core of me.
“We can talk in the dining room.”
On our way there, we met several people in the big foyer. I recognized
Tony. Beside him was a dark-haired woman with bangs and straight, short
hair in a staff uniform. I hadn’t seen Tony since Brad…Oh my God. Brad.
 I turned to Doc. “Have you spoken to Brad?”
“No.” He looked at Luca.
Luca was glaring at both of us. “No.”
“What do you mean, no?” I flared. “We need to check on him. You
body-slammed him on the coffee table.”
His mouth twisted in a sneer. “He deserved it.”
“You even pointed a gun—”
A series of images flowed in a reel through my mind.
Luca with a gun pointed at someone. But it wasn’t Brad.
My gaze swung toward Tony.
It was Tony, but he was beaten up and bloody and on his knees. We
were surrounded by mafia soldiers. In this very hall.
“Natalya?” Luca’s voice came to me from far away.
My lungs couldn’t keep up with my heartbeat, or was it the other way
around?
The room spun.
“You’re under a strange assumption that I’m giving you a choice.”
Two of his soldiers hauled a bloody Tony to the center of the foyer. They
shoved him to a kneeling position.
“Tony…” My voice cracked, then I turned pleading eyes to my husband.
“I’ll do anything.”
He drew out his gun and pointed it at Tony.
“No!”
“No!” I screamed.
Fingers gripped my shoulders, and Luca’s wild eyes searched mine.
I shoved at him and backed away. “You’re a monster.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Here in this very foyer.” I pointed at Tony. “You were going to execute
him.”
Luca’s face contorted in what could only be frustration. He scrubbed his
face with his hand and twisted away from me.
“Fuck!” His roar bounced around the grand foyer. Then he spun back on
me. “Is this a fucking joke?”
My chin tilted up, fury lighting me up from the inside. “Are you
denying it happened?”
“I’m not!” he snarled, reminding me of a frothing, rabid dog. “But why
the fucking fuck do you remember only the bad parts of our marriage?”
 “Maybe because there weren’t enough of the good!” I yelled back. I
retreated to the woman beside Tony. She was in my flashes, too. “Are you
Nessa?”
She nodded.
“She doesn’t speak.” Tony kept his eyes trained on Luca whose
daggered looks in our direction only fueled my need to pump the girl for
more information.
Nessa grinned and brought out her notepad while casting a defiant look
at her boss. If Luca was a cartoon character, I imagined he would have
smoke coming out of his ears and breathing fire like a dragon.
As if sensing the tense situation, Doc moved in front of Luca while
Tony also used his body to shield us against the man who looked ready for a
second explosion.
“Can we talk somewhere?” I asked Nessa.
“The dining room,” Luca gritted. “You’ve barely eaten.”
Nessa scribbled on her notepad. “Attic.”
“She wants us to talk in the attic,” I informed everyone.
Luca’s mouth tightened, and his nostrils flared. He sidestepped Doc,
who gripped his arm, but he shook it off. “I’m fine.”
He walked toward us. “You’re going to keep my wife away from me,
Tony?”
“That depends, boss,” he said in an uncannily calm tone given Luca’s
threatening approach. “You assigned me as her bodyguard before. I’d like to
be assigned to her again.”
The men locked eyes for a while. Finally, Luca said, “Your niece is a
pain in the ass.”
“But she’s loyal, more to Natalya than to you,” Tony said. “You’re fair. I
think you would want someone on Natalya’s side.”
This was interesting information. I wondered if that was why Luca
didn’t want me talking to her.
Luca cocked his chin to the side, muttering about people not knowing
where their loyalties should be. He squared against us again and pointed a
finger at Nessa. “The truth. You and I don’t see eye to eye, but Natalya
needs the truth.” Then he told Tony, “Since you’re eager to be her
bodyguard, why don’t you bring up the food?”
My husband seemed to have a preoccupation with my diet.
 “What do you want to eat, tesoro?” He seemed to have recovered from
his outburst. “I can have Martha make you something.”
“I thought she was taking care of Elias.”
“I’m capable of watching over our boy.”
“Something easy. I’m not picky.”
“Have Martha make a quiche,” he said to no one in particular.
“I said something easy,” I retorted.
“Well, I don’t feel like making it easy for anyone today,” Luca said,
striding away from us. “Come on, Doc, we can have that drink in my
study.”
If Tony hadn’t said that Nessa was more loyal to me than Luca, I
probably would have reservations following her to the attic. An attic to me
was musty and old and where people hid their secrets and, in Luca’s case,
maybe the literal skeletons of a dead body or two.
I was following Nessa past the kitchen when a loud screech gave me
goose bumps. I spun around, thinking I was under attack. A gray cat was
running full tilt toward me, her pitiful meows, loud and heart-rending,
reminded me of a mother cat looking for her kittens.
It stopped two feet from where I stood and made what could only be
described as a loud, scolding meowing sound.
“Uh…” I glanced at Nessa. She had a hand over her mouth like she was
trying not to cry. Martha joined us and shook her head, her face equally
devastated and bittersweet. “She remembers you,” she choked.
I knelt in front of the cat and put the back of my hand against her nose
so she could sniff me, the action so familiar.
“Her name is Mrs. B,” Martha said. “I forgot about her. She missed you.
For days after you disappeared, she haunted the halls with her cries, looking
for you.”
“I can tell.” Any doubt that I had about being collectively lied to
dissipated. I always trusted an animal’s instinct. Mrs. B sniffed me a bit
more. I wasn’t ready to pick her up, and the cat was hesitant as well. She
was standoffish. It was as though I needed to grovel at her paws before she
allowed me the honor of carrying her. Mrs. B did, however, rub her face
against my leg.
I stood and made an elaborate gesture for Nessa to proceed. Mrs. B
trotted behind us, then ran crisscross in front of me. I had to watch where I
stepped before I tripped all over her.
 When we arrived in the attic, contrary to my earlier reservations, what
greeted me was a space filled with morning light, a widescreen TV that
made me giddy, and rows of books I couldn’t help running my fingers
through. Romance books, some with broken spines, a couple of special
editions, and more than a few belonging to the same series with how their
spines beautifully aligned. As I picked one out, I weighed its heft in my
hand, but my eyes became critical toward the bookshelf. An instinct that I’d
seen this one before.
“There’s something behind this.” I turned around to face Nessa. “This
space is mine.”
She signed Yes, and I understood it.
ASL worked in my brain. New skill unlocked. “I know how to sign.”
Nessa replied. You learned it to communicate with me.
I laughed. “No wonder your loyalty is to me.”
I took down a few more books. “There’s equipment behind this.” I
glanced over my shoulder. Nessa was sitting on the couch and she signed.
Yes. Boss found it.
“He didn’t know?”
She shook her head. He was in Chicago most of the time.
I abandoned the books and sat beside her. My gaze noted the shelf
above the TV. A row of photographs were arranged there. A close up of me
as a blonde, and one where I was holding a baby Elias, but my mind
rejected the idea to approach and inspect those frames. There was fear.
There were too many questions, and I wasn’t sure what to ask her first. “He
left me here often?”
She nodded.
“What did I do? Am I a hacker?” I wondered if that was why I was
tempted by the Dark Web. Oh my God, then that was what he meant by a
second life.
No one is sure. She grabbed her notepad. No one knew you were that
good with computers. She underlined that.
I laughed. “For almost a year?”
She nodded vigorously and grinned like a proud mother.
“Did you suspect?” I asked.
She averted her gaze.
“Did you?”
 Maybe a little, she signed. The memory you remembered? You were the
reason Zio Tony was beaten up. You left Tralestelle without telling anyone.
No one knew you had a backpack except me, and I saw the computer inside.
“You didn’t tell anyone?”
She shook her head.
“Why?”
Not sure. I felt sorry for the way the boss was treating you. And then she
suddenly signed. Erase. Erase.
My mouth pulled into a smile. “He told you not to lie, remember?”
He confuses me. I think he reacts more than acts when it comes to you.
“I know it’s subjective, but do you think he loved me?”
Nessa gave me a long look before she expunged a big exhale while
surging to her feet. She walked to the window.
“Nessa? I can take it. It’s okay if he didn’t love me. He said as much.”
She bent over and clutched her stomach and started shaking. I thought
she was having a seizure.
Worried, I rushed to her side. “Are you all right?”
Boss, she started signing, while still keeled over in what appeared to be
laughter. Is the king of denial.
Hope rose in my heart. It would be easier to contemplate learning about
my relationship with Luca if I wasn’t a pathetic doormat.
She pointed below us. I came closer to the window to see where she was
pointing at. Luca was in the garden following a toddling Elias. Doc Gleason
was trailing behind them on a phone. A phone! I sure as hell hoped he was
talking to Brad.
My gaze returned to father and son and a tenderness for them expanded
in my heart of whatever they both went through, especially Luca. Elias had
been an infant, but surely he felt something viscerally wrong when he
stopped hearing my voice, the rocking of my arms, and the smell of my
skin. Tears formed at the corners of my eyes. My heart was opening up to
the idea of Elias being my son.
Nessa tugged my arm. I’m still not sure what he feels for you. He’s a
very contradictory man.
Amusement tinged my voice. “I’m getting that.”
A knock sounded on the door and Martha peeked through. “How are
you two up here?”
“Nessa is filling me in on my contradictory husband.”
 The older woman came in carrying a tray. Nessa walked over to help
her.
“I’m sorry Luca made you do this. I would have been happy with a
peanut butter sandwich.”
Martha clucked. “That wouldn’t do. The boss is adamant about not
taking the abundance of food for granted.”
“Where do you want this?” Tony came into view, holding a carafe of
coffee.
“Are we having a breakfast brunch up here?”
Tony chuckled and put the coffee and the mugs on the coffee table as
Martha instructed. “I would love to, but I’m on a thin line with the boss.
I’m gonna head back downstairs.”
Tony retreated from the attic.
I was starving. I sliced a piece of quiche, transferred it to a plate, and
took a bite.
“What have you told Natalya about that night?” Martha asked.
“Nothing yet,” I answered around a mouthful of quiche. “I was
impressed with the space up here and had to explore.”
“You loved it up here.”
“I can see why.”
“You fooled every one of us thinking you were reading your romance
books and watching romance movies.”
“Wow,” I said. “You all must think I’m such a lady of leisure.”
Martha gave a light laugh. “Not at all. Everyone was happy you updated
the appliances in the mansion and you were a genius, keeping the household
budget straight.”
“Seems I had a boring existence.”
Nessa was shaking with laughter again and decided to join me for
breakfast.
After the first few bites and sips of coffee, I came back to the purpose of
holing up here. “So what happened that night I was abducted?”
Fifteen minutes later, I was processing.

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 Chapter
Twenty-Eight

L uca

“I don’t appreciate being let into the house like I’m your mistress.”
I looked up from the pool table at Rachel. She walked into the
mansion’s game room with an amused look on her face. I returned my
attention to the game, sank my shot, and circled the table, chalking my cue
stick.
“Damn, that didn’t distract you one bit?” Dario grumbled. My
consigliere arrived an hour ago. It had gotten too hot in the garden and I
brought my boy back inside. He was sleeping on the couch beside Gleason.
“Not when I need this distraction. Hi, Rachel. Corner pocket.” I
positioned to sink the eight ball and finished the game.
Doc, who was nodding off, startled awake. He got up and met Rachel.
“We talked on the phone.”
The two doctors exchanged handshakes.
“Glad to meet you,” Rachel said. “But I actually have to see Natalya to
believe she’s back.”
“Not right now,” I countered.
“Why not now? When we talked earlier, you were excited.” Rachel
grabbed a cue stick from the wall.
“Another game?” Dario asked.
“Unless you’re going to use your stick on Luca’s head,” Rachel said.
Her eyes fell on my son, then on Gleason. “Did he make you a babysitter?
Where’s Martha?”
 “I’m babysitting,” I corrected. “My wife commandeered my staff.” She,
Nessa, and Martha had been in the attic for the past two hours. I threw an
irritated glance at Dario. “What are you waiting for? Rack ’em.”
“The game isn’t improving your mood,” he observed.
What I really wanted was a cigarette, but I wasn’t smoking while my
son was in the room. I’d become more of a social smoker now, and I didn’t
want the sudden appearance of my wife to drive me into the habit again.
“You’re pissing me off right now and making my mood worse.”
Dario didn’t seem perturbed with my short temper. The bastard’s
twitchy mouth spoke volumes of his amusement.
“What’s up with him?” Rachel asked. “And why did you have Rocco
sneak me in? Is she vulnerable right now? She met Elias, right?”
“Him is pissed.” I kept my focus on the green woven fabric. Green was
calming, right? “Rocco snuck you in because I didn’t want Natalya to see
you. I changed my mind. Vulnerable? That’s debatable. She’s met Elias.
They’re still making up their minds about each other. She seems to be doing
just fine and is currently in the attic with Martha and Nessa.”
“Nessa? Oh dear.” Rachel snorted a brief laugh.
My friend was aware Nessa didn’t particularly like me, and I honestly
wasn’t sure why I didn’t get rid of her. She was a superb cook. She didn’t
even talk back, but her condemning gaze irritated the fuck out of me.
I made a break of the balls Dario just set but failed to sink any or rail the
required number, ending on a foul.
“Cazzo!” I growled.
“Ooh, I think I might have upset your balance.” Rachel moved around
the table and took aim at a ball. “I’ll take solid.”
“Guess I’m sidelined.” Dario took his seat beside Gleason.
“Is someone going to explain why Luca is in a bad mood when he was
fine this morning?” Rachel asked.
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here.” My eyes focused on the balls
she seemed to be sinking with no issue. Rachel was a pool shark. I should
have known better than to let her push Dario out of the game. I preferred
playing against Dario. He was less likely to psychoanalyze me while we
played, which was usually how Rachel gave me therapy because I couldn’t
sit still on a couch.
“Well?” She continued potting her balls. Those might as well be mine.
 Still staring at the rolling spheres, I said, “She only remembers the bad
shit that happened between us so far.”
“And so far, it’s the really bad shit,” Dario chortled.
“Like what?”
“The time I told her I will never love her.”
Rachel had already heard my confession about that and had called me a
moron. Not very psychologically worded, and I wondered if the Morettis
wasted money sending her to psych school.
“What else?” she clipped.
“The time I pulled the gun on Tony.”
“Typical. You never told me if you were really going to shoot Tony.”
“I was pissed, but I’d probably shoot him where it hurt, but not kill him,
and no, I don’t want to discuss the time I chopped off his finger.”
“You were only seventeen.”
“He deserved it, according to Emilio.”
“Should I be in this room to hear this?” Gleason spoke up and the
doctor’s eyes darted between us.
“Are you asking if I’m thinking of shooting you, too?” I asked mildly.
“Shame on you, Luca, trying to frighten an old man.” Rachel missed her
shot.
“I don’t think he’s frightened,” I remarked sardonically. Rounding the
table to sink my balls, I knocked my first one into the corner pocket and
called another. “I’ve had zero body count since he made my acquaintance.”
“Luca has this weird sense of justice,” Rachel told Gleason. “But it’s a
very thin line.”
“Just don’t try to kill me or hurt my family.” I winked at the doctor,
who’d turned a tad pale. “And if your heart is as criminally black as mine,
all bets are off.”
“Understood.” The word was strangled.
Dario laughed and squeezed the doc’s shoulder. “You’re a friend of the
family.”
“I see.”
“We’ll make it worth your while.” Gleason was smart. He knew he’d
seen too much. There was only one way to keep him quiet, and that was to
bring him in. I needed him here in the mansion until Natalya regained her
memory and be on call when there were setbacks. Having a neuro on
payroll would ensure the care my wife needed.
 “I guess I don’t have a choice,” Gleason said. “It would have been nice
to have one.”
I sunk three more balls but missed the fifth one. I leaned against the
wall to let Rachel have her turn.
I balanced the cue stick on my shoulders and twisted from side to side. I
missed my workout this morning and had been stiff as hell. “You’ll have a
comfortable retirement.”
My eyes met Dario’s across the pool table. My adviser had done a deep
dive into the doc’s background. He was selling his practice anyway, and
from his reaction when he found out I was the Chicago mob boss, I didn’t
think he would balk too much.
Rachel missed the eight ball. I had two more to sink.
I chalked my cue stick and prepared to take my shot.
“You don’t want Natalya to see me because she’ll remember you missed
Elias’s birth.”
Something snapped inside me. I flung the stick on the table. “Bitch.”
Rachel merely raised a brow. “That’s what you’re afraid she’ll
remember.”
“Wow,” Gleason said.
“I don’t need input from you, old man.”
Gleason did a zipper gesture against his mouth. Dario was biting his
fist, probably trying to avoid making commentary.
I hated people right now.
“Ziarach!”
Shit. Elias was awake. He rolled off the couch and toddled toward
Rachel. Elias combined “Zia” and “Rachel.” It was cute. But what was not
so cute was the way they all seemed to be ganging up against me.
Elias always looked for me first when he woke up.
“Hi, little man.” My friend lowered the stick and scooped up my son,
who erupted in toddler chatter that made little sense.
I was unreasonably agitated, but for this part, I didn’t need an audience
who wasn’t in my inner circle.
I opened the door. “Rocco!”
My soldier came forward. “Escort Doctor Gleason to his room.”
“Oh, shouldn’t I be hearing this too?”
“You’ve heard enough.”
 I nudged the old man out of the game room and into Rocco’s care and
slammed the door before facing the two people who knew me the most.
Two people who appeared to be finding amusement in my predicament.
My eyes were looking elsewhere when I gritted, “Both of you should be
on my side.”
Rachel was rocking Elias. “I’m on the winning side. It looks like
Natalya is finally winning.”
“Damn, where’s that scotch?” Dario added. “We need to toast to it.”
“This is ridiculous. I wasn’t such a terrible husband.” That sounded
lame to my ears.
At this, Rachel’s eyes softened. “You’re a good father, but a terrible
husband.”
“I am not a nine-to-five husband. The Chicago family is like a
corporation and I’m its CEO. Why couldn’t she be happy with everything I
could give her? This house. The money. I wasn’t a bad husband. When she
was pregnant, I went to most of her appointments. I ran her baths, massaged
her feet. Made sure she had the best nutrition.”
“Except you told her you’ll never love her.” Rachel lowered my boy,
who seemed to have had enough of grown-ups and went to the corner of the
room where he played with his trucks. He had them in almost every room in
the house. “You’re able to do those things because you never made yourself
vulnerable to her. Granted, the night of Elias’s birth, you had an excuse.”
When I stayed silent, she pressed. “How badly do you want your wife
back? That’s the hard question you should ask yourself. Not for Elias, but
for your marriage. Because from what I’ve witnessed of your marriage, you
and your wife have different expectations of love.”
“Did you know?” I gritted. “There was this man who is in love with my
wife and was willing to die for her?”
“Whoa.” Rachel reared back and sat beside Dario. “Were you there?”
“I was,” he said. “I thought Luca was going to shoot the man right there
except Natalya went in front of the gun.”
I needed a drink. I went behind the bar of the game room and grabbed a
beer. “You guys want one?”
“He’s in avoidance,” Rachel said.
I took out three beers and went to them. “I’m not avoiding. I need
alcohol for this conversation and so do both of you.”
“I haven’t had lunch yet,” Rachel said. “What’s on the menu?”
 I exhaled a sigh. “My cook is with Natalya. We’re going to starve or
order pizza. Can we talk about my issue?”
“I came here for Natalya, but it seems you’re the one who needs
therapy.”
I leaned against the pool table in front of them and guzzled down a beer.
“You should be happy. Luca Moretti is finally ready to listen.”
Rachel laughed and leaned against the armrest of the couch in a move to
get comfortable. “All right. I’m not a neurologist, but I don’t think Gleason
can give you a definitive answer either. But before anything else, I find it
interesting she remembers her hacker personality. Though most of it is
semantic memory, I think that’s part of her personality that she was the
most comfortable with and where she feels she has power in her life. From
what you told me, her parents suppressed her intelligence because they
feared she’d get exploited. That’s really hard on someone with a high IQ.
So she created this double life.”
They should be shot. “I don’t know how parents wouldn’t be proud of a
child genius.”
“I bet Elena has something to do with it,” Dario said. “In her eyes, that’s
not a marketable aspect. I mean, you married her and stashed her in this
mansion.” His chest started shaking with amusement. “Not knowing she
installed a ghost bridge in your house.”
“Shut up,” I growled, but my mouth twitched. My wife was brilliant. “I
would have been thrilled with her. She might overhaul our gaming
websites.”
Dario snapped his finger. “Right?”
“So you’re not intimidated at all by her IQ and her computer abilities?”
“If I had known this, I would have been prepared for it…” I paused.
“Once I’ve gained her loyalty, of course. I assumed I was getting a wife
who would run my household and give me heirs.”
“That right there.” Rachel pointed her bottle at me. “Lose that
assumption.”
“I already did. I wish Natalya had been honest with me. I was honest
with her.”
“About said expectations?”
I scowled at her. “Can we move past that? I was wrong, all right? To set
expectations and crush my wife’s—ah fuck.” Crush Natalya’s heart and
spirit. I couldn’t say the words aloud, but they wrapped my chest in a vise
of shame and guilt. I needed to fix this. All this time I was seeing her as a
weakness, but she wasn’t. She made me want things. I wanted to build a
future with her.
Another thought occurred to me.
“But it’s not a split personality, right? This Rayne person never
existed?”
“Doc Gleason doesn’t think so. It’s simply amnesia. Natalya and Rayne
are the same person. Do they feel different?”
“Other than she hates me right now? I don’t think so.”
“She appears more confident,” Dario said. “And there’s that slight
change in her speech pattern.”
“That could be from building a life for herself and adapting. Her IQ
doesn’t disappear simply because she has amnesia. The skill to shape an
identity and what it needs to survive is still there.” Rachel pointed out. “She
was twenty-two when she married you, twenty-three when she became a
mother. She spent two years alone and built self-reliance. You’re just
dealing with a more mature version of your wife, independent from the
influence of the mafia and its constraints.”
I didn’t like the sound of Natalya building a life for herself away from
me. “Have I…” I blew out a breath. “Gleason said she’s remembering the
bad stuff because that might be related to how her amnesia formed.”
“He did mention dissociation might have something to do with it.
Psychology is not an exact science and the way the brain handles memory
isn’t either. But remember, when Natalya went missing, she was on the
brink or was already in postpartum depression.”
“Perfect storm,” Dario said.
“Exactly,” Rachel said.
“I want to fix this,” I said in a resolute voice, because I couldn’t imagine
being without her again. I had so many regrets after she disappeared. I
played many scenarios where I treated her with the love she deserved. This
was our second chance. “Whatever it takes. I don’t want to wait until she
recovers her memory to prove how much…”
My breath hitched, and the two stared at me.
“How much she means to me.” I wasn’t going to declare the words for
the first time to them. But Rachel and Dario must have seen something on
my face because I saw approval on theirs, even relief, especially on my
consigliere’s face.
 “Are you going to confess that you manipulated her?” Rachel asked.
I spread my hands helplessly. “I don’t know how. I tried to earlier, but I
got sidetracked.” The more I thought about how I fucked up, the more I
realized the mountain I had to climb to win my wife back—with or without
the amnesia.
“Are you ready to declare her alive to the family and associates?” Dario
asked.
“Not yet. I need to figure out how to woo back my wife first.”
And this time without the intent of manipulation, but with the intent of
showing her that I was in love with her. That she was a priority, and yes, my
love for her was my weakness, but it was also an emotion that was giving
me strength. And with clarity that I hadn’t seen in my thirty-seven years,
love was something worth dying for.
Take that, Brad Bailey.

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 Chapter
Twenty-Nine

L uca

It was late in the afternoon, and Natalya hadn’t emerged from the attic.
Gleason had been up to see her. Rachel was itching to meet her but agreed
that it was best if we didn’t overwhelm her.
Everyone in my household seemed to be working against me, though,
even Martha. My housekeeper had looked in on me and Elias, but mostly
I’d been taking care of my son all day. Not that I minded. My amnesiac
wife seemed to hold everyone’s interest. I wondered if it was because they
couldn’t wait for her to remember everything including my being a shitty
husband.
I was alone with my boy. He wanted to see the ducks in the pond. The
pond was at the end of the gardens where we had quite a menagerie. Our
ducks and cats seemed to get along. Elias giggled when one of the cats—I
was thinking one of Mrs. B’s kittens—walked alongside a Muscovy duck.
Mrs. B was nowhere around. I got a text from Martha that she and my wife
had a grand reunion. I guessed her favorite person was back.
I had a bag of corn and oats with me and let Elias scatter them on the
ground. I sat back and watched my son giggle and chatter in happiness
while the ducks surrounded him. I had an incessant need for my boy to
connect to what was good and innocent before the life that awaited him
tested his humanity. Though Emilio didn’t force the mafia life on his
children, the ones who followed his footsteps won his approval and support,
while those who didn’t became outcasts.
 “Papà…duck.” Elias ran toward me, eyes shining with glee. I stared into
his innocence and prayed for it to last longer. Men grew up fast in the
family. It was necessary for survival, and I couldn’t see a way out of it. I
would love my son no matter what path he chose because I didn’t want him
to live with regrets. I just had to look at what happened to my brothers from
Emilio’s first wife.
Junior was stressed before he was ready and ended up dead.
Ange went to jail, and unlike me, money couldn’t buy his freedom and
he spent ten years incarcerated. As the underworld underwent a shift, the
one to lead the family had to be strategic.
No one questioned Emilio when he named me his successor. No one
questioned it to his face, but it didn’t mean there weren’t grumblings. That I
didn’t have enough street cred. It was mostly the old-school mobsters who
couldn’t get behind that the money wasn’t on the streets unless your
business was drugs. Everything was online and international and in real-
estate construction.
After Elias had fallen asleep on my lap, I carried him back to the house.
It was five p.m. There was finally activity in the kitchen. Nessa was
chopping vegetables and had two stock pots simmering. The flour was out
and chicken pieces were in restaurant-sized plastic containers.
The pizza boxes from lunch were stacked on the dining table.
I shifted my son to one arm and flipped one of them open to grab a
slice.
Nessa glanced up, narrowed her eyes, and jerked her head at the pots.
She was telling me it was almost dinner and to stop snacking.
“What? I’m hungry,” I said. “And by the looks of it, it’ll be an hour or
two anyway.”
She pursed her lips and went back to chopping. I had my ways of
annoying her too. She knew I didn’t like snacking before dinner, but today
was a special case.
I glanced at the chalkboard beside the stovetop. Chicken and dumplings.
“That’s the first thing you cooked for Natalya when she arrived.”
She glanced up again and grinned.
“Did she remember anything else?”
She shook her head.
“Oh, you’re back.” Martha walked into the kitchen and saw me with
Elias.
 “Where’s my wife?”
“She’s in the attic.”
“Still?” She better not use it to hide again or I’d wreck that damned
place.
“It’s familiar to her, and she likes it up there. She did come down to
look for Elias.”
I glanced at my son drooling on my shoulder. “There won’t be much
interaction. And he might end up cranky if we force him awake.”
“She doesn’t have to interact with him,” Martha said softly. “Why don’t
you go up there and spend time with her. It’s a beautiful time of the day up
there.”
She didn’t have to tell me twice. With Elias in my arms, I walked past
Rocco who was on a bench at the bottom of the steps. He was talking to
another soldier.
“Where’s Tony?”
“He’s with the doctor in the living room. Making sure he won’t snoop.”
Good idea. I took the steps to the attic, two at a time. I rapped lightly.
At Natalya’s answer to come in, I opened the door and couldn’t say that
I wasn’t surprised that my wife had removed the paneling from the back of
the bookcases. She stacked her books on a separate shelf. She was sitting on
the couch in front of the entertainment center.
“You’re not surprised to see me?” I asked.
“I’m surprised you hadn’t come up sooner,” she said. A warm look
came over her face when her eyes fell on Elias. “Martha said he would be
pooped when it’s you taking care of him.”
“He can be a handful.”
“She also said you never wanted to hire a nanny under the age of forty.”
Fifty if truth be told.
She averted her eyes. “Is that because you don’t want Elias to call
anyone Mamma?”
“It doesn’t sound right when it’s not you.” I took another step into the
room, but I didn’t want to discuss my craziness, so I tipped my chin toward
the network of computers.
“My network engineers redid your configuration.” That was all Natalya
needed to know at the moment. I wasn’t stupid. I had a genius hacker in my
house who could wreak havoc on our online business and I wasn’t about to
tell her I had servers in the basement. I walked to the crib by the window
and lowered my sleeping son into it.
She must have sensed the lack of information. “Can I have a laptop? I
promise not to hack you. I’m only half-kidding.” She winked. “Nessa told
me you came up here often with Elias.” A smile touched the corners of her
mouth as she flung a look at the picture frames on the shelves. “This is
almost like a—”
“A shrine?” The corners of my mouth hitched up. I walked to her side
and sat beside her. “That’s what Dario calls it. He must have heard it from
Tony or Martha.”
“Yes.” Then the gaze she cast me was full of questioning wonder that
pierced my chest with something uncomfortable. I wasn’t used to
explaining the crazy things I did when Natalya disappeared. “Nessa told me
you wrecked the TV and other furniture that used to be here. Why rebuild it
if you hated that I used this place to get away and hide things from you?”
I focused my gaze on the dotted lights of the router. I deserved to be laid
open like this, right? It was a struggle to find the right answer. How could I
find the words to explain what I did when I couldn’t explain it to myself?
Wait. I could. But that would expose my fear, my weakness.
“Do you really wanna know?” I still wasn’t looking at her.
“Yes.”
“Would it change how you look at me?” I couldn’t stop myself from
asking. I turned to her and could have kicked myself when the wonder
faded into sadness in her eyes.
Be vulnerable, asshole.
“I wouldn’t know, Luca,” she said in a flat voice.
“I’m sorry.” I raked my teeth over my bottom lip before I let out a big
exhale and this time embarrassment with myself made me look elsewhere
because I couldn’t bear it if I saw pity. “I can’t explain it other than I missed
you with an ache that I couldn’t get out of my chest, and it eased a little
when I was up here with Elias.” Raggedness serrated my next breath.
“Because somehow…I felt that you were out there, alive, and even if you
were far away, Elias and I…I felt closer to you when I was up here.”
A suppressed sob came from her, and my eyes snapped to hers.
They were filled with tears, and her mouth compressed until a choked
cry burst from her lips. “That’s the most heartfelt thing you’ve said to me.”
 “Natalya.” My voice was full of leashed longing. “I must kiss you,
tesoro.”
She gave a brief nod.
I scooted closer, and I thought I would grab her face and plunder her
mouth, but instead, my own touched hers tentatively and another fractured
sob rose in her throat. I gently kissed her, and I tasted her tears and doubts
and fears, or maybe they were my own. Our tongues mingled in slow
exploration, and I schooled my own urges, the urge to take control and
dominate. An alarm in my head told me this Natalya wasn’t the girl who
had fallen in love with me in Paris. I wasn’t even sure if I destroyed her
love before she disappeared.
I sensed a new beginning and hope.
But hope deflated when she gave a pained noise at the back of her throat
and pulled away.
“It hurts,” she whispered, and I believed her. For I saw the anguish in
her eyes and I wanted to roar.
I did this to her.

Rayne

“It hurts, Luca, and I don’t know why.”

He reluctantly let me go. It also hurt to look at him because I saw his
torment, and I was sure he was taking all the blame. I hated this amnesia. It
made me sorry for the Natalya I couldn’t remember. And therein lay the
problem.
“Don’t you regret this.”
I gave a brief scornful laugh. “The kiss? We probably shouldn’t have.”
“Why? We both felt the pull. Don’t deny it.”
“I’m one confused woman and mixing in this pull, as you call it, only
makes things murkier.”
“It could make you remember faster.”
“What is from my past and what is from the now?”
“You can’t separate them.”
 “I don’t know if the pain I’m feeling is for the Natalya you claim you
love or for myself.”
He reared back and slid toward the opposite armrest. “You mean you
see yourself as two people?”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t look so horrified. I doubt I have a split
personality.”
A crease appeared between his brows. “I’ve cleared that with Gleason.
He said that’s not the case.”
My mouth curved into a grin. “So you guys discussed it.”
He found the corner of the room interesting. “Yes.”
“You’re not telling me the whole truth.”
He jumped to his feet and walked to the window again, looking down at
our son. He didn’t say anything for a while, running a hand across his face
several times before he said, “The doctor who delivered Elias was here
today.”
“Why didn’t I meet her?”
“Because it might trigger more memories and there’s a fifty percent
chance it’ll be the bad ones again.”
“Were you an ass to me while I was pregnant?”
“Do you want me to answer that?”
Luca was like a petulant child who was sorry for what he’d done, but
wouldn’t confess to the worst of his sins, and hoped for blanket forgiveness.
“No wonder you thought there might have been a possibility that I had left
you.”
“A slim possibility. I’d been trying to be a better husband and father by
then.”
“If you say so.”
He scowled at me, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or get
exasperated. Even if it was only two distinct memories that came back to
me, they had tremendous impact. If I tried to piece those fragments
together, my head would explode. “So, you’re keeping the doctor away
from me, but you’re also telling me this because you want to warn me of
bad behavior that I might remember in the future?”
His mouth thinned.
“You’re warning me in advance?”
“I’m just putting it in perspective. All marriages have good and bad
days, and my position as boss has interfered. Although I would admit I hid
behind the position because of the way you affected me,” he explained in a
way that told me he didn’t feel like explaining.
“Papà.” Our boy had woken up. An expression of relief crossed Luca’s
face, and he immediately went to check on him. “Hey, sport. You need a
change.” He carried Elias under his armpits and strode to the bathroom.
This I had to see. “Need help? Not sure if I remember how to change a
diaper.”
He laid Elias on the changing table and grabbed a diaper and wipes.
“I usually do this on the floor since I can lock him down with my leg so
he doesn’t interfere.” Luca gave a slight smile. “But he’s usually calm when
he wakes up.”
“Ungry,” Elias chattered.
“Soon, kid,” Luca mumbled. “Talk to him while I make a quick change
here.”
“Hey, Elias…remember me?”
“Wafles?”
“Hahah, that’s not my name, but yes. It’s…what do I tell him?”
Luca had paused in his diaper-changing duties, and the intensity in his
eyes made my heart pound. Something as basic as diaper changing in this
tiny bathroom, and despite the god-awful smell of Elias’s soiled diaper,
made this moment strangely familiar.
“Mamma,” Luca said. “Might as well start with the truth, and he hasn’t
called anyone that in a long time.”
How could one word cause havoc inside me? Elias smiled at me, and I
absorbed that smile to the bottom of my heart.
Without thinking, I extended a hand toward my son. I cupped his cheek,
and he turned his mouth toward it as if inhaling.
“Mamma,” I repeated. The word still sounded foreign to my tongue.
“Now we take care of this shit.” Luca tossed the dirty diaper into a
diaper trash bin and washed his hands. “We need to get this boy fed.”
I laughed. “That’s all they do at this age, huh?”
“Sleep, eat, shit. Play, watch cartoons.” Luca sighed. “I’m not sure our
son and I are giving you a strong incentive to regain your memory.”
Elias, freed from his father’s ministrations rolled to his feet and he was
staring down at me. “Catch.”
Oh shit. And the boy leapt.
 I caught him, but I must have swallowed my heart. I glared at Luca. “Is
this something you do with him?”
He was scratching the back of his head. “Yeah. Sorry, forgot to warn
you. I wasn’t expecting it. He only does it when I’m around.”
Then Luca shot me a tender look that gave me more extra heartbeats.
“Our son looks good on you.”

We spent the rest of the evening in the attic. Elias demanded I feed him his
chicken and dumplings. Luca said our boy was testing my boundaries, and
it was up to me to show him how much he could get away with. But when
we watched cartoons, Elias sandwiched himself between his dad and the
armrest, and that was how he fell asleep. Meanwhile, I was aware of the
heat from Luca’s body, of his powerful legs confined by the fabric of his
sweatpants. I had an eyeful of them this morning and then some.
“I’m going to ask Martha to get him.” Luca whipped out his phone.
I put my hand on his arm. “We need to figure out the sleeping
arrangements between us.”
“Same as this morning.”
I shot him a look that said he was crazy.
A slow smile curved his mouth. “You think you can’t resist me?”
Exasperated, I threw up a hand. “Have you always been this cocky?”
He cupped my cheek in an intimate gesture like he was going to kiss
me. I had no room to move unless I got up. “Tesoro, why deny us the
pleasure while you regain your memory?”
I grabbed his hand and removed it from my face. “And why muddle up
my memory with sex?”
He chuckled deep in his throat, not in the least embarrassed. “Did I say
sex?”
“You know that’s what’s going to happen.”
“I agree that I have powers of persuasion, although in the last months of
your pregnancy, you demanded sex from me.”
“If that were true, that was the hormones speaking.”
His eyes heated. “I should get you pregnant more often.”
“Luca!” I didn’t know whether my irritation was at him or at myself
because my skin became too tight, too hot, and heat pulsed between my legs
so unexpectedly, I thought he heard it. Not even with our son sleeping right
beside him could we contain the flames of our attraction. I wondered if we
burned too hot, our relationship turned to ashes. “Be serious.”
“I am.” His mouth twitched. “But I think you’ll remember me sooner
if…” His teeth raked his lower lip and he thumbed his chin as if wiping
away drool. “You will remember me sooner if I’m buried deep inside you.”
“You’re impossible.” The words came out in a croaked whisper.
“And yet you don’t move away,” he rasped, his hand clasping my thigh.
“Do not kiss me,” I warned.
He regarded me for long beats before he sighed, leaned away, and stared
at the TV screen. “I can move to Elias’s room.”
“If he was used to me, I would offer. Unless you want me to sleep up
here.”
A strange look crossed his face. “No.”
“You can have our bedroom. I’m sure there are plenty of other rooms
—”
“You sleep in our bed.” His tone was terse. I didn’t even need to pretend
why he was being bullheaded about this. He was possessive. And the
marriage bed was a symbol of that possessiveness. It didn’t matter if he was
in it. It was where he had taken me over and over.
“I’ll tell Martha to give Elias a bath,” he said.
“Why bother her? We could do it. Tell her to have the rest of the night
off.”
“You always spoil our household staff. You’re bad for my reputation.
People will say the boss has gone soft.”
“For taking care of your son? I would think they’ll say you’re very
much a family man. Isn’t that what the mafia is all about?”
“And now my wife has kicked me out of our bedroom.”
The drama. Somehow, I expected it from Luca. There was a flair around
him that suited him. People underestimated him for being petty and
petulant, but I’d seen the deadly look in his eyes. He was a dangerous man
who lulled you to lower your guard before he struck.
He picked up my hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m going to woo you
again.”
A determined gleam entered his eyes. And I was the target of that
determination. Elation fluttered inside me. What girl wouldn’t want to be
wooed by a man like Luca? At face value, he was a good catch. He was
attractive and if I didn’t witness him almost shoot Brad, the way my body
responded to his kiss spoke of the sheer chemistry between us. If he were a
stranger, he’d be the best candidate for a fling…maybe a one-night stand?
Where was this wildness coming from?
I was having trouble breathing normally. Everything inside me felt more
constricted.
He searched my face. “You’re tired.”
“Or overwhelmed.”
“That won’t do.”
“It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.” I cupped my feverish cheeks.
“The memories are lurking…I just need to unlock some more.” I couldn’t
believe I’d made significant headway in such a short period compared to
the two years where I hadn’t. My memories seemed to be triggered by
surroundings more than people. The dining room. The foyer.
“Have you been to the nursery?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I think that’s enough for you today.”
I agreed.

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 Chapter
Thirty

R ayne

When Luca said he was going to woo me, he wasn’t kidding. The second
morning of living in the mansion, an elaborate floral arrangement of white
flowers greeted me. It was before breakfast and Martha told me to check it
out in the grand foyer where it sat on the round marble center table.
The card on it said…
Here’s to future memories.
Love, Luca and Elias
I put it in the living room. I appreciated them, but it was a neutral
feeling. Past Natalya might have liked them, but I appreciated the spring
blooms in their natural setting.
On the third day, it was a box of chocolates. I never thought I liked
chocolates. I tried the ones from the convenience store and my tongue
didn’t like the chalky texture. While Luca was ensconced in a meeting with
Dario, I walked around the house and started handing them out.
Apparently word got back to my husband, and he walked into the
kitchen and saw me handing the last of the pieces to Martha, Nessa, and a
couple of the guards who happened to come by. Probably after they found
out I was handing out chocolates.
“What are you doing?” he barked.
“I don’t like chocolate.” I smiled at him sheepishly and nodded to the
other people in the kitchen. “But they do.”
 He calmly crossed his arms, and like he was explaining to a child, he
said, “You do. You like these. Have you tried even one?”
I shook my head. There were only two left in the box of twenty-four.
He emitted an extended exhale. “Tesoro, please try one. If you don’t like
it, you can spit it out. It won’t hurt my feelings.”
I doubted he wouldn’t be hurt. He already jumped down my throat for
passing the chocolate around. It was just that I had an unpleasant
experience, plus the chocolate protein bars were the worst. I preferred the
fruity ones.
Picking up a piece, I put it in my mouth. It melted. The cocoa flavor
enrobed my tongue, then exploded in decadence. Still disbelieving, I rolled
around the remnants of the flavorful chocolate, waiting for chalkiness to
follow the addictive bittersweet, but it didn’t.
I put a hand on my mouth. “Oh my God.”
Luca’s eyes twinkled with satisfaction. He picked up the last piece of
chocolate and popped it into his mouth. My eyes widened, and I wanted to
snatch it back from him, but I was still processing and processing.
“This taste…” I finally said. “I know it.”
Luca took a step toward me, taking the box away, and said, “Yes, you
do.” And oblivious to the people around us, he fused our chocolate-flavored
mouths and gave me a languid kiss. When he pulled back, there was a
smear on his mouth. And apparently on mine too, because we both reached
out to wipe it from our faces.
He seemed satisfied that he’d made his point and left the kitchen.
I turned to look at Martha and Nessa, who were both wearing identical
silly grins.
Nessa signed, He’s a ten.
I laughed lightly. Luca appeared to be charming the person who liked
him the least.
This morning, I’d been lounging with Doc on the patio. It was day four
of living in the mansion and I was getting bored. I wasn’t allowed on any
computer, and I didn’t even have a phone and had to borrow Luca’s to
cancel appointments I already had. I imagined Doc Gleason was bored too,
although he and Dario went fishing yesterday in a lake not too far from
here. Elias was getting more comfortable being left alone with me. My son
preferred Doc, maybe because he was used to kids and babies in his
practice. Right now, Elias was ignoring us and was busy with his trucks on
the mat.
Luca had chocolates brought in again this morning. I found out he was
having them flown in from Paris. I kept them in the room and had become
very stingy about sharing them even with Elias, who I maintained shouldn’t
be eating sugar anyway. Besides, he was too young to appreciate fine
chocolate, or so I told myself.
Selfish, selfish mom.
Oddly, I didn’t feel any guilt.
Doc was sipping on a fruity drink and wearing a Hawaiian shirt and
shorts, complete with a straw fedora.
“Are you enjoying your vacation?” I teased. It was a warm spring day,
and it seemed we had a heat wave which had ebbed in the past few days but
had returned full force. I was not a fan of heat, and I was glad for the
covered patio, and that Elias didn’t want to go into the pool.
“I am.”
“Have you talked to Brad again? I hope he hasn’t reported us missing.”
“I convinced him not to, but he was giving us a week before he reports
it to the sheriff.” Gleason gave me a pained look. “It’s a small town and our
disappearance hasn’t gone unnoticed, not to mention the bruises on his
face.”
“Yes,” I groaned. “I checked my voicemail, and it was full. I just
changed the recording to say I was on vacation.”
Gleason laughed. “I did the same. I hope they don’t think we’re carrying
on a May-December affair.”
“May-December is so old fashioned,” I said. “The right term is age
gap.” Hmm…that was interesting how that word just came up.
“Then it’ll be a triple age gap. Let’s not talk about it. I’m old enough to
be your father twice over.” Gleason looked comically appalled.
“Now Luca and I, there’s the age gap,” I mused.
“So, don’t you have any more of that chocolate?” Doc asked. “I heard
more were delivered this morning.”
“I’m not in a sharing mood.”
“How’s the memory coming along?” Doc settled back in the lounger.
“Not much development after the first day.” I tipped my chin at Elias.
“I’m getting more fond of him.”
Doc guffawed. “I certainly hope so. He’s your son.”
 “I wished he’d stop calling me Waf-waf.”
“It’s not uncommon at that age to have their own language.” Doc
removed his glasses and wiped at his eyes. “The chocolate. Did it trigger
anything?”
“Except that I can be protective of my stash? No. Luca said we had our
honeymoon in Paris.”
The man beside me gave a non-committal response. “Hmm.”
I angled my eyes at him. “I think he’s losing patience.”
“I think he should acquire more of it. He’s not too pushy, is he?”
“Well, if forcing us to come with him at gunpoint is not pushy, then of
course not.”
Gleason rolled his eyes. “I wondered if you were always a smartass.
From what Martha has told me, you were a very sweet girl.”
I snorted. “Maybe the knock on the head altered my brain chemistry. I
told Luca he better not expect the same wife because I’m getting the feeling
I’m not.”
“Or maybe you’re just a more mature version of her.”
“I realize you guys have been discussing me behind my back.”
“You’re a very interesting subject.”
“I’m glad I provide stimulating conversation,” I said dryly.
“We just want to help you.” Doc showered me with a fatherly look.
Footfalls approached and Tony appeared in our line of vision. “Boss
wants you in the study.”
“Uhm.” I looked at Elias.
“I’ll watch him,” Tony and Doc announced in unison.
Elias looked up from his trucks and said, “’re you goin’, Waf-waf?”
Tony gave me a look. “He still calls you that?”
“It’s been only four days, but I hope he hasn’t imprinted that name on
me.” I went down on my haunches and rolled one of his trucks. “Your papà
wants to see me.”
“Canna go?” he asked.
“Nope,” Tony was the one who answered. “Your papà has something to
discuss with her.”
Elias shrugged and returned his attention to his toys. “Okay.”
“He’s such a good boy.”
“He has his moments,” Tony said fondly.
 Well, I thought Luca and I were very lucky to have a son like Elias.
Even if I didn’t remember giving birth to him, with each passing day, a
visceral attachment was emerging. It was hard to explain. Touch and smell.
I loved the smell of his skin even when he was sweaty from running around.
I wondered if he remembered my voice in a way. Doc told me babies started
hearing their mother’s voice in the womb. I hoped the months in my womb
cemented a bond between us that the separation couldn’t erase. I hoped I’d
sung him lullabies. He’d had one or two tantrums I’d witnessed, but he was
very introspective, and in my mind, he was a well-behaved two-year-old.
He behaved better than some adults I knew. I couldn’t fault Luca as a father.
Elias loved him.
Tony nudged me, reminding me I was needed inside. I got up and
entered the house and was taken aback by the number of people milling
around, some dressed in suits, others wearing more casual wear like jeans
and leather jackets. I spotted Dario among the men, so my rising panic
abated. It appeared to be a large meeting of some sort. I wanted to slink
away, more so when all eyes zeroed in on me.
When Dario spotted me, he immediately looked apologetic and started
for me. We met halfway and his hand went to the small of my back. I
angled my head toward him and spoke out of the corner of my mouth.
“What’s going on?”
“Cat’s out of the bag. Luca is doing damage control,” the consigliere
said.
“As in I’m the cat?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. They know better than to cause trouble.”
“Is Luca going to introduce me because I would have dressed up for
this.” I was in casual linen pants and a halter top.
“Later, but he has something for you.”
“More chocolates,” I snarked because I hated being the center of
attention.
Dario chuckled. “No.”
Dario rapped on the door of the study before opening it.
A stocky man, also dressed in a suit, turned our way. He had a head of
salt-and-pepper hair. His face bore a slight resemblance to Luca but was
harsher. I sensed this was his brother the underboss.
Luca was behind his desk. He rose and rounded it to greet me. The man
stood.
 Luca didn’t make any introductions.
The man and I stared at each other.
“Natalya, I’m Ange.” The forced smile on his face only increased my
desire to retreat. He opened his arms, but all my limbs were paralyzed. “I’m
glad you’re okay.”
“Natalya, what’s wrong?” Luca asked gruffly. “Do you remember
anything?” That was when I noticed the other soldiers in the room. All of
Luca’s trusted soldiers besides Dario were alert around me.
I could feel the tension pull tight between Luca and Ange.
“I don’t know you,” I admitted. “I only suspected you were Luca’s
brother with the family resemblance.”
Ange’s expression didn’t change except for the minor relief I saw in his
eyes, the slight slackening of his jaw.
“This is an insult, brother.” He turned to Luca. “I’m your underboss and
Natalya is my sister-in-law. Don’t tell me you still suspect me of being
involved in her kidnapping?”
“We’ve had our differences.” That wasn’t exactly a direct answer.
“You think I would do that to family?” Ange growled. “And you don’t
know yet if she—”
“Careful with your next words, brother,” Luca warned.
“Okay, guys, I’m getting thrown into the mob drama here and I’m not
used to it. So, can we dial down the aggression, because you’re both
making me nervous.”
“No one is in danger here,” Ange told me. “Least of all from me.”
“Good to know,” I said.
“Actually, Ange was kind enough to bring by your laptop,” Luca said.
That was when I noticed the box on the desk.
“Finally.” The chains of antsiness loosened slightly. I would have been
lighter if it wasn’t for the tension building in the room.
“It’s all configured for security. The connection information is in the
box,” Ange said, looking at Luca. “I made sure the guys got that right
because when I got it for Sandra—that’s my daughter—it was all screwed
up.”
“Natalya will figure it out,” Luca said. He grinned at me. “My brother’s
nervous because there’s a big game in a few days and he wants assurance
you won’t hack it.”
 I rolled my eyes. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about. Can I
have it now?” My hands were itching to grab the device and disappear into
the attic.
Luca picked up the box and handed it to me. “It’s top of the line. Let me
know if you’re happy with it. Just a reminder, baby, dinner will be at
seven.” That was four hours away. Four hours to play with my new toy.
Would that be enough time?
I received the box with grabby hands, my mouth curved impishly in
response to Luca’s own indulgent smile. “Thank you!” I couldn’t help
myself when I rose on tiptoe to give him a quick kiss and hurried to the
door. I wasn’t sure if it was from excitement or desire to escape the charged
testosterone in the room. When I made it to the door though, I said, “Don’t
bother taxing your network people in tracking the data packets with a
sniffer. I’m not doing any hacking today.”
With that, I winked, left, and snickered to myself. Luca’s and Dario’s
expressions were amused.
Ange’s was horrified.
Priceless.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter
Thirty-One

L uca

“Whoa. Are you sure we didn’t bring home a doppelgänger?” Dario asked.
All pairs of eyes focused on my wife’s departure. I jerked my head at Rocco
and my soldiers to accompany her to the attic where I was sure she was
heading.
My mouth curved with humor and bemusement. “I always wondered
when Natalya slipped and said something out of character and it’s turning
out it was very much in character.”
When the door closed, Ange collapsed into the seat in front of my desk
while I returned to my chair. Dario sat opposite Ange. The boss, the
consigliere, and the underboss. We had business to discuss. The business of
Natalya was at the forefront.
“You should have informed me immediately, so the family could
prepare for all consequences,” Ange said. “What if you were caught in
Danvers? You abducted a woman and a doctor. We don’t want scrutiny so
close to our online poker games.”
“In case I hadn’t made it clear, my wife is a priority over everything
else. And don’t turn it back on me. The family owes me this. That night my
wife was giving birth, everything I did was for family. The night my wife
disappeared, where was I again? Making sure the family would be clear
from the Russians. So don’t tell me I’ve done nothing for the family,
including brokering deals with everyone—things you have no interest in
doing. Our real estate business is thriving, and we’re trying not to grow too
fast because you’re not pulling in enough money for us to clean. So don’t
put this back on me.”
“How are you going to bring her back from the dead?”
“I’m assuming you’re talking about it figuratively, because there never
was a death certificate.”
“Her parents held a funeral for her in Palermo. There’s even a
gravestone. They said it was insulting that you didn’t attend.” The hairs on
the back of my neck stood on end when I remembered the time Vincenzo
told me they were going ahead with the funeral. He said it was the right
thing to do because we didn’t know what happened to Natalya, and it had
been two months. They said, what if her soul was languishing in purgatory
because she didn’t get the blessing from the church?
“What? So they would have an opportunity to kill me?”
“You still think that?”
“Ange, in the mafia's history, how many double- and triple-crossings
had led to a mob boss’s demise? Une Famiglia doesn’t exist anymore. At
that time of the funeral, I had the Galluzo under scrutiny.” It was also the
time I thought Natalya had betrayed me when I’d found out how her parents
erased the school hacking from her records. “Regarding Natalya’s
reintroduction as my wife, I hope to give her more time in case her memory
comes back, but I don’t see how I could keep this news from leaking out. I,
for one, would hate to give our enemies enough time to plan their move.”
“You’re going to risk your wife?”
“I won’t coerce her if she doesn’t want to.” But I could tell she was as
desperate as I was in finding out what happened to her. Who our enemies
were.
“You have to tell her parents. And Carmine.”
My mouth wanted to curl into a snarl. I hated that motherfucker. If I had
solid proof that he was involved, I’d fly over to Italy and kill him myself.
“We keep a lid on this for now and see how much control you have over
your men.”
“Then why did you parade Natalya in front of them?”
“You did surprise me with this visit.”
“You expected me not to question why you have one of my capos
specifically deliver a fully tricked-out laptop to your house? Why you’ve
been avoiding my calls, and why I find out you were not where you said
you were four days ago?”
 “I’m glad you came down here to find out yourself.”
“Was this a test?” Ange surged from his chair and homed in on me like a
rabid Rottweiler. “If you think I’m not capable of leading under you, then
why keep me?”
“Sit down,” I enunciated. Dario sat forward, ready to intervene, but I
leaned back and clasped my hands over my torso. “A test? Maybe. You’re
my underboss, Ange. The capos are your responsibility. The last time you
ignored two of them, they were making deals under you with the Russians
that cost me two years with Natalya. And you wonder why I don’t hold you
responsible for my wife’s disappearance?” The more I thought about his
role in this or his lack of oversight, the more I wanted to murder my own
blood. “If you weren’t my brother, if we didn’t share so much together, you
would have been in that basement with those stronzos. That’s why I tapped
one of your newer capos to deliver Natalya’s laptop. To see if you’re paying
attention.”
“And did I pass your test, then, almighty brother?” Ange asked
sarcastically.
“I’m satisfied.”
I could tell he was still fuming. I could see it in his darkened gaze. I
missed the days when we settled our differences by beating each other
senseless on the mat. Ange used to be my sparring partner in mixed martial
arts, but after Emilio declared me boss, we drifted apart. Now we just stared
at each other until one of us gave in. It was always Ange. Because I was
still the boss and he’d have to kill me before I wavered. My brother took his
seat again. “What do you want me to do?”
“Do damage control as much as possible. Can you handle that?”
“Exactly what is it you want me to handle?”
“I’m going to ignore Vincenzo and Carmine until I figure out what
Natalya wants to do. They will have heard rumors by now.”
He nodded.
“Ignore all inquiries from Orlov. We don’t owe him anything.”
“Good,” Ange muttered. “But he’s been calling me about the Game of
Bosses.”
“He’s been blowing up my phone about that stupid game too.”
“You sure you don’t want a rematch?” Ange grumbled. “Maybe he’d be
less of a pain in our asses.”
 Inwardly, I was amused. The Russian just stole a shipment of vodka
from Ange. No money off the family because it was Ange and his capo in
charge of it who were paying it back.
“I don’t have time for that shit.” Not to mention, I didn’t feel like
training for it, but it seemed I hadn’t lost the skill and instincts, judging
from how I handled Brad Bailey.
“Koshkin, if he calls me, will be hard to ignore, so I’m handling him,” I
told Ange. “Eventually the Chicago PD will hear about it. Detective Voss is
in charge, but it’s become a cold case in the last year.”
“You want me to handle him too?” His tone was brusque.
“No. That’s going to be trickier.”
“Because you kidnapped a doctor.”
I woke up my computer and turned my screen to Ange to show Gleason
on the patio reclining on a lounger, sipping a drink. “Does it look like I
kidnapped him? His voicemail says he had a family emergency. That should
clear us for now.”
I made the mistake of looking at Dario. We both had our poker faces on,
but Ange had been around us too long not to know we had more
information. “There’s a catch…”
Dario tried to keep his mouth straight in the ensuing twitchy silence, but
a chuckle escaped his lips. “There might be someone out of our control with
knowledge of the abduction.”
“I’m not finding it funny,” I snapped. I didn’t want a reminder of that
fucker’s mouth on Natalya. “We’ll handle him. Do nothing.”
“Why?” Ange persisted. “I can send a couple of men down there and—”
“Brad Bailey is not to be touched,” I told my brother. “Do we have an
understanding?”
Ange grinned and sat back. “Understood.”

“As your consigliere, I don’t approve of you giving Ange Brad Bailey’s
name.” It was the first time Dario got me alone and away from my brother.
It was an afternoon of meetings and catching up on business. Ange was
clearly unhappy that Natalya was the focus of my attention just when we
had big games lined up. It was the first time since Natalya’s disappearance
that I’d given him so much control over them. He’d been hoping I’d be in
Chicago, but I reminded him I’d monitored the last ones while I was in the
mansion.
“Didn’t you hear what I said?” I rocked back on my heels while sipping
the thirty-year-old scotch Ange brought with him. It was part of our last
shipment from a cult distillery that recently closed. “I told him he’s not to
be touched.”
I wanted Brad Bailey dead, but not by my hands. His heart wasn’t black
enough for me to kill him without guilt.
“You said nothing about not burning down his coffee shop with him in
it.”
“I gave Ange simple instructions. I don’t want to micromanage.”
Dario gave me one of his disapproving looks. “You’re better than this,
Luca. You think this won’t get back to Natalya? Even if you said you didn’t
give the direct order, the buck stops with you.”
I exhaled a heavy sigh. “You’re no fun. If you must, be specific with
Ange and tell him to leave Brad Bailey and everything that belongs to him
alone.”
Dario squeezed my shoulder. “Good call.”
“Vaffanculo,” I muttered.
Dario barked a laugh and left my side in search of my brother. It had
become more crowded. I was sure Nessa and Martha were cursing me, but
they should lay the blame on Ange for this gathering. I caught Gleason’s
gaze. He was in a conversation with one of the capos, but he raised his glass
to me. I gave him one bottle of the expensive scotch. It should fetch at least
8k a bottle and we had two hundred cases. We could make twenty million
easy. More if we auctioned them.
And that was why I was the boss. Ange’s default was to force liquor
stores to carry them or sell them to the many high-brow restaurants in the
area. Why make distribution harder when the world was our market?
In my peripheral vision, a figure appeared at the top of the grand
staircase and demanded my attention. I turned to it, to them, and my whole
world became clear.
Natalya was in a slim-fitting navy-blue dress I remembered her wearing
in Paris. At her side was Elias in sailor’s clothes. The pull of my wife and
son was irresistible. I lowered my scotch on the side table, and my strides
headed in their direction. I ascended the steps, eyes unwavering with
Natalya’s. She stood unsure at the top of the grand staircase. Then our
wiggle-some boy drew my attention. He was urging his mother to join the
party.
Yes, I was as excited as my son.
“It isn’t quite seven.” Her voice was breathless. “I wasn’t sure if I
should mingle with all the men. I don’t see their wives. And I googled…”
I reached her at the top of the steps. “I’ll send them all home if I have
to. I want to spend dinner with my wife and not stare at their ugly faces.”
“I’m not intruding?”
I gave her a reassuring smile. “Not at all.”
“Papà…up.” Elias made a wanting-to-be-carried gesture. I plucked him
from Natalya’s side and settled him on my left arm while offering my right
one to Natalya. She hesitated for a brief second, and then she clasped my
elbow.
Together, we descended the steps. Why had we never done this? When
Vincenzo and Elena had been here, I was already with the men, leaving the
women to their own activities. I cursed my idiocy. My wife had become an
afterthought. Someone to beget with heirs.
“I’m feeling very self-conscious,” she whispered.
All eyes were on us. It was like a spotlight was following us down.
“Get used to it,” I told her. “We should entertain more.”
She cast me a look that was a cross between incredulity and irritation.
“Luca, these past few days…”
“I don’t want to discuss them. I’m not asking for a performance rating.
Just let me do what I feel I should have done as your husband.” I lowered
Elias to the floor, and he immediately spotted Ange.
“Ziiiooo!” he yelled and stumble-walked toward my brother. Ange high-
fived him. Tony was in the crowd and made his way to my son.
“Elias is more at home in this crowd than I am,” Natalya said.
“Let’s loosen you up.” I guided her to the kitchen where the impromptu
bar was set up.
“I could strangle Ange,” was the first sentence Martha uttered when she
saw us. “I was ready to order pizza.”
“Why didn’t you?” I didn’t care what my brother thought. My house
wasn’t a restaurant and this unscheduled visit, even when I half expected it,
didn’t mean my staff should drop everything and cater to their needs.
 “Really?” the housekeeper said, looking doubtful. “You would have
been okay with that?”
“Why are you looking at me?” Natalya asked. “I’m not sure I’m in a
position to make decisions in this house.”
Failure and confusion etched her panic-stricken face.
Fuck, I didn’t want her pressured at all. “You’re not. Calm down.” I
poured her a glass of Barolo. “Drink this.”
She accepted the wine without hesitation, took a guzzle, and in her
haste, the liquid sloshed over her fingers.
Christ.
“Natalya.” I infused my tone with the calm she should be feeling. The
uncertainty in her eyes killed me. “This isn’t on you.” Martha realized her
error and moved away.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“No.” She made a face. “You always seem preoccupied with what I
eat.”
She mentioned this in the past, but this last time gave me pause to
ponder why I did that. “Let’s go outside—”
“But your guests—”
“They’re not guests, they’re family—”
“Elias…”
Shit. I looked at Martha. “Can you check on Elias? He’s with Tony and
Ange.”
Martha waved us off, and I didn’t wait for anyone else to stop me.
Business had been concluded.
We left through the kitchen side door that led to the gardens where there
was a fountain with an angel. We had several of these scattered around the
property. But since we had more effective ways to scan for wiretappings
and bugs nowadays, we found less and less use for these garden ornaments.
Right now, the falling water provided a soothing sound, which I hoped
would alleviate my wife’s nerves.
“How do you like your laptop?” I asked.
Her face brightened against the moonlight filtering through the clouds.
Her eyes came alive. A distinctive gleam of confidence shuttered the doubt
in them moments ago. “Impressive bells and whistles. I approve of the
processor and the memory. The graphic card is nice.”
“Nice,” I repeated dryly. “It was all top-of-the-line.”
 “I don’t need top-of-the-line for what I do.”
“And what is it that you do?” I found myself asking a question that
wasn’t for small talk. I genuinely wanted to find out everything about my
wife I never had the chance to explore. It also explained in a roundabout
way why I kept asking whether she or Elias had eaten.
“I’m not sure yet,” she mused, staring off into the distance. “To be
honest, even when you gave me the laptop, I felt something missing.”
“I’m not sure what programs you want to download. I’ll leave that up to
you.”
“It’s just so much work to redo what I had on the laptop we left in
Danvers.”
“You have all the time to do it here. The connection is very secure.”
“Give my kudos to your IT team. I did surface-level hacking…”
My expression must have changed because she laughed.
“Let’s call it ethical hacking, and that was one thing I did back in
Danvers and the surrounding towns.”
“You’ve acquired quite a list of clients.”
“I’m the cheapest,” she returned, looking away.
“You could have charged more, but you didn’t want to draw attention to
yourself.”
I sat on the edge of the fountain, encouraging her to sit beside me. She
glanced back at the house.
“They’ll manage,” I interjected before she could say anything.
“But dinner…I heard Nessa was making spaghetti and meatballs.”
“She knows those guys are sick of spag and meatballs.”
Her burst of laughter surprised me. It was the laugh I’d often heard from
her when we were in Paris—open and uninhibited—which became more
and more scarce further into our marriage because I killed it. When Elias
had been a month old, I peeked into the nursery one day and that was the
last time I’d heard it. My unworthiness only grew stronger, but I refused to
give up. If only I could find out how to make her laugh like this often.
She took a sip of wine, but her cheeks were round with her smile.
“Nessa is the quiet one, but she’s full of surprises.”
“And vindictiveness,” I muttered.
“Luca!” she admonished.
“It’s true,” I sighed. “I’m not saying I don’t deserve it from her.”
 We sat in silence for a few minutes, just the sound of the fountain
keeping us company. A rumble of thunder indicated an impending storm.
The chatter inside the house and random roar of laughter provided
background noise.
“They might be looking for us.”
“Martha knows where we are.”
“Well, Nessa surely doesn’t want us to miss dinner.” She stood and
moved to go inside.
I remained seated and said, “My preoccupation with whether or not
you’ve eaten is born of expectations.”
Her back was to me, but I could feel rather than see the stiffening of her
spine. She slowly turned around.
“I don’t think I truly apologized, Natalya, but I’m sorry for being a
shitty husband. If you get your memory back and you remember every
single time I let you down, every time I returned to Chicago and made it
feel like I abandoned you, I’m truly fucking sorry.”
“What does this have to do with—”
“With food? Because that was the expectation I had of myself as a
provider. As long as I gave you and Elias the basic necessities—food,
clothing, shelter—I’d done my duty.” I pushed up from my seat and walked
toward her.
Staring into her upturned face, I noted how her mouth was slightly
parted, and her eyes sparked with curiosity. Because here I was, Luca
Moretti, confessing his boundaries and the secrets of what made him tick.
Or used to tick.
“I considered love a weakness. But I had no problem receiving it. To
me, better for people to love me and give me their loyalty than for me to
love them and become my weakness.” It was like an expulsion of my sins.
Of the selfish protection around my heart.
“Oh, Luca…”
“I manipulated you to love me. I did it with all knowledge and
calculation. Don’t look at me with pity.”
“I’m not. I’m just wondering how I fell for that. I didn’t think I was so
gullible.”
“You love romance movies and books. I used Paris as a backdrop.” I
regarded her intently. “But I wonder now if that was a front.”
 “I like science fiction and fantasy movies. I do love it when there’s
romance with action.” She drained her wine. “I might try reading a few of
those books in the attic. They looked like I bought them from a thrift shop.
Maybe they were my mother’s?”
Her question was beyond hilarious. I threw back my head and laughed.
It took almost a minute before I could say anything without choking on
laughter. There were tears in my eyes. “Elena Conte…would never read
that. I doubt if there’s a romantic bone in her.”
“Was my relationship with my mother that bad?”
I ran the back of my hand down her cheek. Her eyes widened, but she
didn’t shy away. That was progress. “Don’t worry about that right now.”
Her shoulders rose, and her whole person deflated on an exhale. “When
I was in Danvers, I was content and had moved on, thinking I was lucky to
escape with my life. But now, there are so many possibilities. Things are not
clear between us. I’m not sure if I should trust you, but deep down, I can
tell, you’re not a bad person. Your morals are questionable.” She puffed a
laugh as if it was an inside joke. “But I’ve seen you with Elias. There’s
good in you. You’re shaped by your environment, the family.” Her mouth
twitched. “I finished The Godfather one, two, and three. And I googled
you.”
“Heaven forbid.”
“We should go back in or people will notice.”
As if on cue, Nessa appeared. Of course, she ignored me and signed to
Natalya.
“She said if we want any spaghetti and meatballs, we better go inside.”
“We’ll follow soon.
“Natalya.” Her attention returned to me. She’d been responding more
and more to her name and I refused to use Rayne because she was never
Rayne to me. The thunder sounded closer, and it reminded me of another
time I let her down.
“You don’t have to mingle with the family if you’re not comfortable,” I
said.
“Luca.” The way she said my name was uncompromising. It was a tone
I’d never heard her use before and it made me pay attention, like I was
about to be pushed off a cliff. “I’m tired of babying this amnesia, and Doc
Gleason might not agree, but I want to find those assholes who did this to
us. If you think exposing my return to the public would facilitate our
enemies making a move, then do it.”
She nailed me right in the eyes and continued with steel in her voice, “I
can sense it. You want to use me, but you’re afraid of what it would do to
my recovery. Since I met you, I had this feeling that the other shoe is about
to drop, and I’m tired of waiting for it to do so. It’s not the way I want to
live. The rest of my memory is there. I just need that one trigger. I can feel
it.”
Natalya and I were on the same wavelength. “The trigger might not be
in there.” I nodded at the house.
“Where?”
“After this circus, I want you to come with me somewhere.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter
Thirty-Two

R ayne

“I’m glad to finally meet you.”

The woman in front of me was Rachel Kingsley. Luca had planned a
field trip and wanted all the support he could get for what we were about to
do. Ange and most of the Chicago mafia didn’t leave until after midnight,
and even then, it was because Luca had to send them away.
We assembled in the grand foyer. Elias was already in bed, and Nessa
was staying with him in the nursery. With us was Doc Gleason, Tony, and
Dario who decided to spend the night.
“I’m not gonna ask if there is a jolt of familiarity,” Luca said dryly.
“Clearly there isn’t.”
I stared at the woman a while longer and cocked my head at him. “No.
There isn’t. But I’m curious what you’ve done that you’re afraid I’ll
remember.”
“It seems his sins are already stacked against him. He didn’t want to add
to them,” Rachel said.
“He’s apologized in advance though,” I said.
“Can we get this party moving?” Luca grumbled. “Rachel, ride with me
and Natalya. Gleason, you can go with Dario.”
As we piled into our SUVs, I noticed that we formed a convoy of three.
Luca was driving and Tony was beside him. Rachel and I were in the
second row. Dario drove the lead vehicle while another group of mafia
soldiers brought up the rear. I thought most of the men had left, but I saw
them scattered around the estate, and more than a few had rifles slung on
their shoulders.
“You’re already expecting trouble?” I leaned between the console and
asked Luca as the guard at the gate waved us through.
“We can’t keep your reappearance a secret even if I tell Ange to keep
quiet about it. He brought a slew of men with him.” Luca seemed irritated
at this. “I’m just preparing for the worst. I haven’t heard from the Galluzo
or your parents yet but word will reach them. It’s only a matter of time.”
I leaned back. “I guess it’s too much to expect CIA-level security.”
Rachel laughed beside me. “I see what you mean by Natalya being
different.”
“Am I that different?” I was finding this fascinating about who I was
before.
“Let me put it this way,” Rachel said. “You’re more blunt and more self-
assured.”
“I’m feeling far from self-assured.”
“Not about the amnesia, but I don’t think you’ll let Luca get away with
things as much.”
“I brought you here for support just in case Natalya had a breakthrough
memory,” Luca said. “And not to massacre my reputation.” Glancing
briefly in the rearview mirror, he continued, “We’re not sure if anyone was
keeping tabs on you in Danvers. If there was, your disappearance would trip
alarms.”
“So you’re thinking they’re only waiting me out?”
“We have no records of who dropped you off in St. Louis.”
“I could have told you that,” I said. “And we’ve already established my
whole background is bullshit.”
Rachel gave another puff of laughter. “I see Luca is going to have his
hands full whether you get your memory back or not.”
I didn’t say anything. I’d already mentioned it to Luca several times.
“They’ve taken great pains to either hide you from me or from the
people who are after you. If the ones who did this to you are responsible for
your kidnapping, they would have kept you prisoner until your memory
returned.”
Luca turned from the main road into a narrower one that had cornfields
on both sides. He didn’t tell me where we were going. I thought he was
taking me to the hospital where I’d given birth and have those X-rays of my
brain he wanted me to have.
He’d been surreptitiously casting me glances in the rearview mirror. It
took little deduction that this area was supposed to trigger something. “Was
this where the Russians took me?” I asked.
“Is it familiar or is that your theory?”
His question made me think. And this was the reason why Gleason
didn’t want to force information on me because my mind might start filling
the empty spots in my memory to produce false ones. On the other hand,
there wasn’t enough to formulate a complete scene. A pit of anxiety started
forming in my gut that I’d taken my memories only so far and I would
never get them back.
“Are you feeling okay?” Rachel asked. “Is this exercise confusing for
you?”
“I’m okay. Physically, I’m fine. No flashes or anything, but this place is
making me anxious, and I’m not sure if it’s the pressure of having me
remember things.”
“Should I turn back?” Luca asked.
“No!” I said, the agitation growing. “Keep going. We’ve come this far.”
A crack of thunder reverberated and shook the car.
“Shit,” Tony said. “It’s going to rain.”
“Was it raining the night I was taken?”
“No,” Luca clipped.
“But you love—” Tony started.
“Shut up, Tony,” Luca snapped.
“Everyone calm down,” I said. “I don’t want people to be on pins and
needles around me and watching everything they say or do. That’s just
adding to the pressure. I think this little field trip is necessary because this is
where I lost my memory. So, I’m all for going through with it.”
The silence that followed my statement was loud and only heightened
the rumblings of thunder which in turn escalated the tension in the car. I
checked the weather earlier, and it called for rain. A cold front would be
rolling in, bringing cooler temperatures.
Trees loomed over the road and the moon had long disappeared behind
the clouds. The headlights of our convoy led the way, but it was pitch black
further out.
 We’d been on a narrow road for twelve minutes when the vehicle in
front of us slowed and made a turn onto a gravel driveway. The first large
drop of rain hit my window. The SUV rocked and creaked and the
overgrowth on the side of the road hinted of an abandoned property.
There were lights up ahead and I was surprised to see two vehicles
already there.
“I sent an advanced party to sweep the place,” Luca said.
“Who owns it?”
“Used to own,” Luca corrected. “One of the Russians who abducted
you. The bank has repossessed the property.”
“So we’re trespassing.”
“There’s nothing to steal. It’s just a piece of land now.”
I found out what he meant when we reached what only could have been
the house and what was left of it—charred frame of a wall with a broken
window.
When Luca parked the SUV, I immediately got out. I walked up to the
structure’s rubble. Opposite of the wall was a chimney. What I could see
was as far as the headlights illuminated. Years of greenery had sprouted
from the ruins.
Drops of rain splattered on my face. Lightning streaked across the sky.
Luca walked to my side.
“You thought I was in there,” I said, still riveted on the burned-out
house.
He didn’t answer. When I glanced at him, his jaw was clenched, and his
throat was working like he was swallowing repeatedly.
“It was on fire when we arrived.” His voice was low and guttural. His
Adam’s apple bobbed again. “I thought you were in there.” He got the
words out quickly before inhaling a ragged breath.
“Luca…”
He turned to me and I was sucker-punched by the torment etched on his
entire face. His eyes gleamed. His mouth moved and twisted but no further
words came. His expression contorted into one final twist of agony before
he crushed me against him and buried his face into my shoulder.
“I thought I lost you,” he choked.
Tears stung my eyes. His anguish was so raw, it swept me away. His
body shook, and I wasn’t sure if he was crying or not. Instinct made me
cling to him. He was like a proud lion punctured with a deep wound seeking
comfort from me, the one person who could take his pain away.
I didn’t even realize it started to rain until we were soaked. Luca had
shielded me with his body, and I didn’t feel cold. We stood in front of the
ruins. The ruins that held the answers to the night I disappeared.

My body rapidly chilled when Luca let me go. It was pouring rain by the
time we returned to the SUV.
Luca got a mylar blanket from the Escalade’s cargo area. I was just
wearing a T-shirt, and I didn’t think twice about stripping when he handed
me the blanket. I caught a weird expression on his face just before he closed
the door. That gave me pause and I wondered how taking off my clothes in
front of Luca seemed so natural. Warmth suffused my cheeks, but the rest of
my body was still cold.
Rachel didn’t stay out of the SUV for long, so she was dry. She tapped
my knee. “The two of you out there…” She clutched her hands over her
chest.
“Are you crying?” I asked.
“What? No!”
She totally was.
Luca got into the SUV. “I’m sorry if I wasted your time.”
“Hmm…” Rachel said.
“What?” Luca looked at us.
“I don’t think it was a waste of time. It’s closure,” Rachel said. “You’re
erasing what you experienced that day of the fire with a better memory.
Natalya has returned to you.”
Have I returned though?
Unlike his vulnerability in the rain, Luca scoffed, “Don’t psychoanalyze
me. What’s next?” He gunned the engine. The rain was abating.
Rachel leaned over to me. “He’s the king of avoidance.”
My teeth were chattering, but I managed, “Nessa said he’s the king of
denial.”
“I’m right fucking here,” he growled.
 Tony was the only one who had no comment, but when Luca was
checking his side-view mirror, the other man glanced at me and shook his
head with a grin on his face.
Luca blasted the heat in the cabin, and I warmed up fast. I begged him
to turn it off because I was sweating.
“Take a shower when you get home,” he told me. “I don’t want you
getting sick.”
“That’s a myth,” Rachel said.
“No, it’s not.”
The two bickered all the way home. I was disappointed the burned-out
house didn’t trigger a memory, but like Rachel said, that exercise had done
more for Luca. But something happened between us in the rain. Whereas
before I felt disconnected from his grief, like he was grieving for another
person and I empathized with him, this time it was as if he was grieving
directly to me.
It was intense, and I couldn’t describe the pain I felt as he clutched me
to him. The words in my ear were muffled in the deluge of the rain, but
whatever they meant, they transmitted directly into my heart like a live
wire.
The trip home seemed faster, or it was because I was so lost in my
thoughts, soaking in these new emotions. I wanted to check on Elias before
I turned in, but Luca was a tyrant about me taking a warm shower.
So that was what I did. Somehow, even when the surface of my skin
was warm and my cheeks seemed to be running a fever, there was a
marrow-deep chill in my bones. Once I got under the shower, I stayed under
it longer than normal. And when I stepped out, I was so impatient that I had
to dry my hair when all I wanted to do was hug my son.
After quickly drying my hair and putting on pajamas, I stepped out of
the room, surprised to see Mrs. B sitting on my bed.
I padded into the room. “You don’t like thunderstorms either, and they
let you up here?”
I could hear the cat purring like a chatterbox. “I’m going to go see Elias,
and I’ll be right back. You can snuggle with me.”
But the cat jumped off the bed and ran ahead of me. She seemed to
know where I was going.
The door to the nursery was ajar, and Luca was already inside. He was
pulling a shirt over his head when he heard me.
 “No, Mrs. B, you can’t come in here,” Luca muttered.
“She was in my bedroom,” I said.
“Thunderstorm.”
“Yes, Martha told me.” I walked over to the twin bed where Elias was
sleeping.
At the edge of the mattress, I leaned over to kiss my son. He was on his
back, oblivious to his parents. “Bet he didn’t even wake up when you came
in.”
Luca shook his head. “I’m going for a shot of whiskey. Do you want to
join me in the study?”
“No, I’m…” My eyes fell on Mrs. B, sitting on a gigantic teddy bear
that was on its side. The cat was staring at me with intent golden eyes. My
whole body went cold. It was like I was in a trance, mesmerized by the
giant stuffed toy.
“What’s wrong?” Luca’s voice was sharp.
The words, when they came, sounded alien. It was like I’d disconnected
from myself. “Where did that teddy bear come from?”
“It was in the closet. Elias probably wanted to ride on it.”
I walked to it and dropped to my knees. Mrs. B jumped off and rubbed
her body against mine.
Swallowing hard, I turned the stuff toy, so the zipper was facing me. A
zipper I knew that was expertly hidden in a seam. Luca came up behind me.
I was breathing hard now because images flashed in my head like an
endless reel, but I fought against the oncoming migraine.
I pulled down the zipper, and my hand went in. The action was so
instinctive, I closed my eyes when my fingers touched what it expected to
touch. The bumps and indentations of the stickers on the surface of my old
laptop, the familiar width of it between my index finger and thumb, and the
heft when I lifted it out.
A cry snagged in my throat with the avalanche of memories that crashed
through my head.
I remembered everything.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter
Thirty-Three

N atalya

I awoke to the glare of incandescent lights and angry voices. I was lying on
the floor with my brain about to pound out of my skull.
“You nearly killed our meal ticket! Are you stupid or what?” a man
yelled. He was taller and wider than the first man I saw. Both of them still
had their masks on.
“She was going to hit me with a rock.” The statement sounded like the
whine of a rottweiler beaten by a chihuahua.
The other man scoffed, “She’s what? A hundred pounds?”
My thoughts were fuzzy as hell. I must have made a sound because I felt,
rather than saw, two pairs of eyes pin me down with the weight of their
stares.
“Elias,” I whispered, forcing my elbows to prop me up on my side.
“Where’s my son?”
“He’s with the nanny.” The first man who spoke crouched in front of
me. A tattoo of a knife through a skull was inked on the back of his hand. I’d
seen that tattoo before. But it was as though cotton had replaced the
network in my brain and my neurons refused to fire. Tattoo Man dragged
me to a chair. My laptop was waiting for my password.
He put a piece of paper in front of me.
“Transfer the money you stole to these accounts.”
He wasn’t making sense. All I could do was stare at the numbers on the
paper, then at the screen, and then back at the paper again. He slapped the
back of my chair, jolting me. “Are you stupid or what?”
“I can’t think…” I mumbled. “Concussion.”
“She’s just faking it,” Whiner said. I heard the click of a gun and then
the cold barrel touched my temple. My fingers went numb.
I typed in the password thrice. My fingers moved like limbs that had
been left in the same position for so long that they forgot how to bend.
“I’m so sorry,” I sobbed, my body shuddering. “I just don’t know...”
Confusion seized me. That was when I realized it was the wrong
computer. “I can’t get you all the money. Where are the ledgers?”
“The what?” Whiner asked.
“She meant these…hard wallets, right?” Tattoo Man asked.
I nodded. “I have fifty thousand—”
“Bullshit. I was told you have three hundred fifty million total.”
“I don’t have them here. I just can’t right now…” They were going to
kill me. “I’d give you the money if I could.”
“Well, we can’t shoot you, but you know what? We can start with
Nessa,” the man said. I caught the sadistic tone in his voice.
He whipped out his phone and turned away from me. “We don’t have it
yet. She got feisty, and uh, our guy hit her…yeah…yeah…she said she was
concussed. Yeah…that’s what I thought.” Long pause. “Fuck. And if that
doesn’t work?” Another long pause. “Okay…okay.”
When he ended the call. He turned to me. “One last chance, Natalya.”
Even if I wanted to, my concentration was toast, and I wasn’t sure if it
was from my blurry vision either. Besides my brain being hazy, it was
panicking at the intricate hoops I needed to go through to get at the money
from this laptop.
“We need to go back to the mansion. The things I need are there,” I told
them.
Tattoo Man glared at me, then flicked his eyes to Whiner. “Kill the
nanny.”
“No!” I jumped to my feet and started after Whiner, but the other guy
grabbed my arm and twisted it behind me.
A shot rang out.
“No. Nessa!” I screamed. I went wild with fury and stomped on Tattoo
Man’s foot. He cursed and let me go, but when I scrambled in the direction
where Whiner disappeared, fingers yanked my hair and a stinging slap spun
me around. I didn’t know where the pain was coming from. My scalp, my
jaw, or my heart. “You asshole!”
I couldn’t see through the blur of tears. “Nessa…”
“One last chance.”
Whiner appeared. “That was a waste.”
Tattoo Man jerked me again and shoved me back in the chair. I could
only sob in front of the laptop.
“Your son is next.”
“I can’t…” My ragged breath caught on a sob. They wouldn’t do it,
right? But I wasn’t sure, and I wasn’t going to risk it. My son was all alone.
I could hear him crying. My mother’s heart ached to go to him, but I had
consigned him to death. I didn’t deserve him. “They didn’t bring what I
need.”
“You should have told them,” Tattoo Man said. “Kill the son.”
“No! Luca will give you what you want. Whatever you need. He can
match it.”
“That’s not what we want.”
I shot out of my chair despite the pounding in my head and went after
Whiner when he headed back to the room.
Bang!
Nooooo!!!
“Nooooo.” I woke up to hands pushing against my shoulders. Weighing
me down. I punched, clawed, and kicked. I tried to bite an arm trying to pin
me down.
Someone cursed and then, “Natalya!”
“You killed Elias. You killed him!”
“Our son is fine!”
The hands that were restraining me disappeared, and I was engulfed in a
familiar embrace. I struggled some more until Luca’s reassuring voice
finally cleared the dark haze of the nightmare of memories. “He’s fine. It
was a dream.”
I couldn’t stop shaking. I was not cold. Warmth surrounded me, but the
shudder rippling through me was uncontrollable, and so were the tears that
wouldn’t stop.
At one point Luca talked to someone else in the room, but mostly, he
was murmuring words of comfort. That he was with me. That Elias was
fine. That I was safe with him now. He said those words over and over until
the meaning of them sunk in and quelled the terror and despair in my heart.
Finally, I was able to focus on what was real and my crying subsided.
I noticed I wasn’t in the nursery, but in the bedroom and it was daytime.
He was rubbing my back. The action comforted me. I exhaled a deep
breath and pulled away.
“I’m better.”
Luca studied my face. “You gave us a fright, baby.”
My mouth tipped up at one corner. “I passed out, I guess?”
“Yes. You were unconscious for hours and wouldn’t wake up.” His jaw
clenched. “I never want to hear the sound that came from your lips again.”
I gave him a puzzled look.
“A sound like a wounded animal.” His voice pitched low. “Do you
remember that night?”
“Part of it replayed in a dream…a nightmare. I must have slipped from
unconsciousness to sleep.” I probed the memories of that night. “I
remember everything until the second time they knocked me out.”
Luca’s face turned murderous. “So it was more than that one time Nessa
told us about?”
“I think the second time was when my amnesia took hold and they
broke my wrist.” My voice cracked, and I felt tears coming on again.
“When I thought they killed Elias.”
Luca’s eyes slid shut, his mouth tightened as if he was trying to keep
from asking me more questions. When his eyes opened, they were calm, but
I wondered what passed through him in those few seconds as he processed
my words. “I don’t want to push you. Gleason is on his way. When you’re
ready, you can tell me.”
Doc checked me over and told me to take it easy, but I needed to get
everything off my chest. It was nine in the morning anyway. I felt like death
warmed over, my pounding headache wouldn’t go away, and there was that
phantom twitchiness from my previously broken right wrist, so I relented
when he offered painkillers.
After breakfast, I met with Luca and Dario in the study.
My husband eyed me warily. “We can leave this for a few days.”
“No, we can’t because I want to move on from this.” I brought the
laptop with me. Before I connected to their network, I quarantined and
neutralized the Trojan they installed on my laptop. If anyone had messed
with my laptop, it would have been that time I gave birth to Elias. I learned
from Martha they found oral Misoprostol in Yvonne’s room, a drug used to
induce labor. That would mean they had access to my DEC-phone and
knew how to use it. My stomach soured at the thought that Doriana was
involved. And The Friar? To think I admired that hacker. Many things made
little sense. Doriana could have asked me to transfer the money to her
accounts.
Luca gave a brief nod and rounded the desk and took his seat. Dario and
I sat in front of it. I had the computer on my lap. My fingers were flying
over the keyboard as I lined up all the screens I wanted to share with them. I
glanced at Luca and then at Dario. “I work for a hacking network involved
in stopping human trafficking. Santino and Frankie didn’t kidnap me
because I was Vincenzo’s daughter…”
“Holy fuck,” Luca whispered. I could see the cogs turning in his brain,
and he’d already come to the right conclusion. “You have Orlov’s money.”
I rolled my lips. “Yes.”
Dario was also staring at me with narrowed, semi-accusing eyes. “That
night of the power outage. One of his lieutenants had an auction that got hit
by hackers.”
My head sunk between my shoulders. “Yes.”
“Son of a bitch.” Luca’s chair scraped back, and he walked to the
window. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Three hundred fifty
million dollars.”
“I haven’t checked yet.”
“Where are they?”
“Swiss banks and cryptocurrency.”
“I don’t understand,” Dario said. “Why is the money with you? You said
a hacking network. Didn’t they demand the money be turned over? Why
leave it with you?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t the only one who nearly got in trouble. My
handler did too, and she was uneasy about receiving the money.”
“That’s a lot of money. She could have disappeared,” Luca said, face
grim. “Are you going to contact her?”
“I will.”
Luca moved away from the window, but instead of returning to his
chair, he walked to me and turned my chair slightly. Then he got into a
crouch. His whole body was locked tight, jaw clenched hard. I could feel
the aggression thrumming through him. He voiced it in measured words.
“We could have avoided a lot of heartache if you trusted me with this.”
I inhaled a ragged sob. “You didn’t give me enough reasons to trust
you.” This was it. The moment of truth I’d waited years to find out. I turned
my screen toward him and played the video. Luca’s brows furrowed, then
he recognized what was playing on the screen. Dario got up from his seat
and went behind Luca.
“Madone,” Dario muttered. “How? There were no cameras in that
room.”
“We had a drone planted in it.”
“We?” Luca stood, glaring down at me. “We?” he repeated. “Your
handler?”
“No. Someone I tag-teamed with.”
“This was the night you got abducted.” Luca wasn’t asking a question.
He sounded like a lawyer entering evidence in court. “The footage got cut
off. What happened?”
“The hacker discovered we’d been compromised.”
Luca sneered. “Convenient, don’t you think? To leave the video out of
context.”
My spine stiffened. “Are you denying you were involved in the sex
trafficking of minors?”
Luca stared at me for a charged, furious minute. Even if he was
motionless, the earlier aggression morphed into rage. It was pulsing at his
temple, in the clenching muscle at his jaw, at the tensed cords of his neck.
His hands at his sides barely moved. A minute expired, and he wordlessly
stepped up to his desk and picked up his phone. Soundlessly scrolling
through it before handing it to me.
My attention fell on the headline of a news article that was two years
old. “Zavarida Group members exposed.” It went on to say that law
enforcement groups around the world apprehended several high-profile
businessmen and politicians belonging to a sex cult linked to human
trafficking.
“You…”
“Carmine and I coordinated that operation for months. If you and your
partner screwed up the transactions, that would have alerted those men and
it would have risked those kids.”
I inhaled sharply. “None of the Lillies were over eighteen.”
 “You should have trusted me, Natalya.”
I was shaking my head because I wasn’t sure now if I did the right
thing. The memories were too new, but they were still memories from two
years ago and not every detail was clear. I returned his phone. He tossed it
on the desk and crouched in front of me again. “That night, Carmine was
not there for the auction. He didn’t respond until that morning when the
cops came to the house.”
“You suspected him of my disappearance?”
“Did he know you were doing these things?”
“No.” I gave a brief snort of derision. “But come to think of it. He’d
been asking me if I’ve been hacking again, but he wouldn’t put those kids
in danger. There was nothing Carmine despised more than human
traffickers. He hated Santino for working with the Russians.”
“So he knew about Santino’s arrangement with Orlov before your father
found out?”
“I don’t know.”
Luca walked back to his desk, leaning back until his chair creaked.
Dario returned to his seat.
“You know what I think?” Luca linked his fingers across his torso,
drumming them in the way I’d seen him do when he was analyzing
information. “I’ve long suspected your cousin was trying to drive a wedge
between us. We never figured out the drive-by shooting incident in front of
the club. I bet Carmine set it up, and he thought I would remain in Chicago
and miss your first checkup. I’m beginning to see what his endgame is.”
Luca looked at his consigliere. “What do you think, Dario?”
“I agree.”
“Surely you don’t think…” I started but trailed off. It was like I was hit
by a freight train. “Oh my God…”
He nodded. “He wants to control the Galluzo and Chicago. I wouldn’t
be surprised if he manipulated Santino to overthrow Vincenzo and gave him
a list of his inner circle to get rid of. He told Santino to kidnap you. He was
the one who told me you were with Frankie Rossi, and made sure Vincenzo
knew the information came from him to curry favor.”
“And we brought that snake into our midst where he gathered
supporters from both our organization and Orlov’s,” Dario added. “Planted
seeds of discontent to empower them to overthrow Luca and Orlov. The
money they planned to get from Natalya was to finance their coup.”
 “I can confirm one of the men in that burnt house was Turo—Yvonne’s
boyfriend,” I said. “Although they wore masks, I recognized the knife
through a skull inked on the back of his right hand. The voice also
matches.” I was too concussed to make the connections that night, but it
seemed clear as day after my dream. Luca and Dario didn’t look surprised.
“But…you already know this.”
“Two of our capos were involved including a group of Russians from
Orlov’s organization. The Russians were the ones who abducted you from
the house. Nessa also confirmed that she thought she heard Yvonne.”
“The night I gave birth was the only time I could think of that someone
could have messed with my laptop. Yvonne was left to mind the mansion. I
didn’t have the teddy bear then. My laptop was in a backpack. She could
have let anyone in to install the Trojan or she could have done it with
simple instructions. Once I logged in to the auction, I was compromised.”
“They didn’t count on you getting amnesia. No money meant no
funding. My bet is still on Carmine. He panicked and erased all evidence of
the conspiracy. That’s why he turned on Turo and burned the house down. I
couldn’t believe he had the audacity to show up at the mansion.” Luca’s jaw
worked reflexively and he stared at me directly before saying, “He gave me
ammunition to manipulate you.”
A phantom pain speared my womb and an involuntary cry escaped my
lips, my hand instinctively lowering to the area where I’d felt Elias move
frequently as a baby.
“Are you all right?” Luca rose from his seat, his eyes widening in panic.
“Should I call Gleason?”
I closed my eyes and shook my head. My brain and my heart were in
survival mode while I exhumed the layers of events in the hierarchy of pain.
The pain that changed my feelings for Luca forever. The night he missed
our son’s birth.
When I peeled my eyes open, Luca’s eyes were focused on my hand
that was splayed on my abdomen and his throat bobbed. “So now you
know.”
“Now I know why you kept me from meeting Rachel.”
“And?” He speared Dario a look before returning it to me. His
consigliere mumbled his excuse and left the study.
“Are you asking me if I forgive you for that night you missed Elias’s
birth? Because I’m not sure if it was a matter for forgiveness. I don’t
understand the pain I’m feeling because you were simply doing your duty
to family.”
He nodded briefly, his gaze watchful. “I understand.”
“Do you?” I shook my head. “But that’s not the end of it, is it? I don’t
know if your worst transgression was promising our firstborn to Papà.”
Luca dropped his gaze, his shoulder slumping in defeat. He moved
away from the desk and I thought he was rounding it so he could plead his
case in front of me, but instead he moved to the window and looked
outside. “I don’t want to make excuses anymore. Ambition blinded me, but
please know these past two years without you, our son has taught me so
much about what mattered the most, what was important.” He raised his
arm and sliced it in the air in a careless wave. “To see what’s bullshit.” He
turned around. “I can only promise that I have changed, Natalya.” He
swallowed hard. “I love you. I’ll always love you. Time hasn’t change that
and I promise to make it up to you for being a shitty husband.” He erased
the distance between us and crouched in front of me. “Let me prove it to
you, tesoro.” He searched my face. “Give me this chance, please?”
There was humility and sincerity in his plea, but the return of my
memories was an avalanche of jumbled thoughts and emotions. Now that
I’d eliminated Luca’s role in the sex trafficking of minors I could
concentrate on the conflicts of our relationship. Knowing who I was now,
could I live with this man who had caused me so much pain? “I need to sort
through my feelings, so I’ll be needing some space.”
A muscle twitched at his jaw. “Of course.”
“I hope you can be patient with me.”
“However long you need,” He pressed a kiss to my forehead, and when
he leaned away, a wry smile tipped his mouth. “As long as it doesn’t take
another two years.”

Luca

It had been a week since Natalya regained her memory. In that week, there
was no progress in our relationship.
 Patience was easier declared than done. Patience was definitely not my
strong suit when Brad Bailey was staring at my wife with longing eyes and
indulging my son with a fatherly smile that should belong exclusively to
me.
Gleason told me the coffee shop owner was threatening to go to the
cops unless he saw Natalya and the doctor with his own eyes. The doctor
also said there was nothing more he could do for my wife, and it was time
for him to go home.
I questioned my sanity for allowing Bailey to pick up Gleason, but I had
a masochistic desire to see how my wife reacted to him. I didn’t know
whether I was relieved or disappointed that Natalya gave me no reason to
go homicidal over Bailey.
“You’re surprisingly calm,” Rachel said beside me as both of us
watched Gleason, Bailey, my wife, and Elias linger in front of the barista’s
Ford Expedition. Rachel came by to say goodbye to the doctor.
“Did Natalya ask you here to stage an intervention in case I went
gonzo?” My wife had daily sessions with Rachel, and it annoyed me they
invoked doctor-client-privilege bullshit and kept me in the dark about their
discussions. I asked if I should be part of Natalya’s therapy, but Rachel
thought I would only hinder my wife from opening up if I were present.
I was offended, even if I agreed with that assessment. I hated feeling
helpless, and I wanted to understand why my wife was avoiding me. Was
there something else she wasn’t telling me?
Bailey and Natalya hugged one more time. The man shot me daggered
looks past her shoulder. I awarded him with a slow smug grin, even when it
hurt my jaw to maintain that smile when his hug went on a bit too long.
I cleared my throat and stepped forward. “Bailey, you should get
going.”
Natalya stepped back from the barista and glared at me for my rudeness.
“Luca.”
“No, it’s all right. I get where the man is coming from.”
“You mean you get where her husband is coming from?”
Bailey, for all his wisecracks, extended his hand. “No hard feelings.”
I raised a brow and shook his hand.
“Just make her happy.”
Oh, for the love of God. Despite his martyr-like declaration, the extra
squeeze in our handshake didn’t go unnoticed. We locked gazes for a while
longer, and I was sure the expression in mine reflected the veiled threat in
his.
“Well, this was an interesting vacation.” Gleason came to our side,
angling his arm between us, his purpose clear. Bailey and I broke our
stalemate so I could shake the old man’s hand.
But a shake wasn’t enough for Gleason. I pulled him in for a hug. “Take
care of yourself, Doc. Come visit us sometime.”
I felt him stiffen, and I wanted to laugh. When we broke apart, I said,
“Or we can drop by for a visit on our way to Grafton. We have business
there.”
“That would be nice,” he responded feebly.
“Maybe Dario and you can go fishing.” While the doc and I made small
talk, my eyes followed Bailey as he made his way to the driver’s side.
Natalya stepped back with Elias and stood beside Rachel.
“Maybe. I wish you all the best, Moretti.”
“There’s always a spot for you in my organization.”
“I’m an old man. I don’t need the excitement.”
I clapped him one more time on the back and squeezed his shoulder
before I sent him on his way. I’d grown fond of the old bugger and I didn’t
mind having him around.
“I’m going to miss him,” Natalya said as the taillights of the SUV
blinked some distance down the driveway.
“I’m sure you meant Doc Gleason, right?” I gritted.
Natalya glared at me, and without answering me, she picked up Elias
and marched back into the mansion.
My eyes followed them. I realized Natalya and Elias had grown closer.
My boy didn’t even bother with me this week and was all about his mother.
A seed of anxiety started to grow in my gut.
“Don’t say a word,” I growled at Rachel.
“I wasn’t,” my friend remarked dryly. “I enjoy seeing you dig your hole
deeper.”
I cast her an irritated glance before I started after Natalya. “Do you have
a session with her today?”
“No. She doesn’t need therapy, really.” Rachel matched my strides.
“If you’re thinking I do, think again.”
“No, but your idiocy is tiring.”
 I paused right in front of the door and veered toward the gardens at the
back of the mansion. Rachel sighed and followed me.
When we were in front of the Botticelli angel fountain, I faced her.
“What am I doing wrong?”
“The question is, what are you doing right now?”
“I give her flowers every day. Different ones each time because she has
to remember by now that she loves them, yet I’ve seen her give them away
to my men to give to their wives or girlfriends—” I paused when Rachel
burst out laughing. “It’s not funny. I’m trying here. She kept the peonies
from yesterday. She seems to like those. Hates the white roses.”
Rachel raised a brow. “Those were her wedding flowers.”
Her innuendo was so strong, I smacked my forehead in realization. “Her
mother.”
My friend shrugged. “Yes. And those chocolates are good, by the way.”
I scowled at her. “I’m going to ask her out to dinner tonight.”
“What, like a date?”
I prayed for patience. “Of. Course. Like. A. Date.”
“Well, good luck with that.”
I started to pace. “Then what the hell do you think I should do?”
Rachel gave a long-suffering sigh. “All right. I’ll clue you in.”
I made an elaborate, if not a derisive wave with my arm. “Please do.
Because I’m out of fucking ideas.”
“You’re waiting for Natalya to remember she loves you.”
Confused, I looked at her. “She already knows she loves me. She
remembers everything.”
“Memories evoke emotions, but those emotions are different from the
ones people experience when they fall in love.”
“I’m not following.”
“At the risk of sounding unromantic…what is falling in love if not brain
chemistry? How did she fall in love with you?”
I sighed heavily. “Paris.”
“Where you manipulated her…” At my scathing look, she quickly
added, “But she did fall in love with you.”
“If you’re suggesting we take off to Paris, I don’t think she’d be willing
to leave Elias. And she’s in a vulnerable situation right now.” I had horrific
nightmares that Natalya had amnesia again and was running barefoot
through the cornfields, with Turo and his crew chasing her.
 “But you have to bring back that rush for her. Falling in love is broken
down into chemicals and hormones in the body. Adrenaline and dopamine
among them. There’s attraction definitely, and that’s an altogether different
set of hormones. You just need to bring in the swoons, Luca. For her, she
knows in her head she loves you, but the heart needs to catch up because
she’s been without those feelings for two years. And she’s been obsessing
about the bad parts of your marriage because those memories came back
first. Her mind at the time of amnesia was protecting her from the
heartbreak. And that’s why it’s harder for the emotion of love to manifest.”
“In a weird way, you’re making sense,” I muttered. “Should I kidnap
my wife somewhere? Maybe to an island?”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “You need to make her feel secure that Elias
would be fine, but both of you need alone time to reconnect.”
“I have an idea.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter
Thirty-Four

N atalya

“Why did we leave so early again?” We were on a private jet to an

undisclosed location. Luca woke me up at four in the morning and rushed
me to pack. I was barely coherent without coffee, but he seemed to be in a
chipper mood at a god-awful hour, which irked me. I barely said anything to
him as he bundled me and Elias into the Escalade. Martha and Tony were
with us.
“I heard from your parents and they want to visit.”
“And you didn’t tell me this?” Though I was annoyed that Luca was
playing gatekeeper to my family in Italy, a part of me was relieved. I was
still trying to merge who I was before to who I was now. It wasn’t easy,
especially the part about what I should be feeling.
“They just called last night. I told them we already had plans.” His gaze
softened. “What we’re building here is more important.”
Sadness came at the heels of that statement. One of the first genuine
feelings since my memories returned. “You said that to me in Paris. Little
did I realize it wasn’t about our relationship.” I turned to the window. The
glare of the rising sun bothered my eyes, so I pulled the shield down. I
leaned back against the headrest. Bittersweet emotions and memories were
all I could attach to our time in Paris. It was as though I judged that time
through the events that followed. It was confusing because the weeks
leading to my disappearance, Luca had been trying to make up for being a
shitty husband, including the part he played in the deal with my father. I
knew I was in love with him. I’d seen the love in his eyes for me and Elias,
and the only barrier to our true happiness was my suspicion that he’d been
involved in human trafficking. After Luca revealed the truth, I waited for
my love to return.
I didn’t want to confuse lust and love. He still slept with our son in the
nursery. It was the only time he spent with Elias since my memory returned.
I used my son to be the new barrier between my husband and me. During
one of our sessions, I asked Rachel why I was doing this. She told me it
could be because I needed Luca to prove something to me. She advised me
to be honest. To let Luca know my likes and dislikes, because my husband
was struggling to get to know this blended person of my past and present.
I was ruthless about the flowers. A smile touched my lips.
“Finally, she smiles.”
My eyes popped open, and I turned my head to look at him. “Were you
watching me this whole time?”
“Yes.” He said it in a challenging tone, like he dared me to deny him the
right to stare at me.
“It’s creepy.”
“What made you smile?”
“I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
“Try me.”
I gave a brief laugh. “Okay. If you insist. It was the pleasure I took in
getting rid of those damned flowers I didn’t like.”
Instead of the frustrated expression I’d gotten so accustomed to seeing
on his face, Luca smiled broadly.
My brain did a stutter. “You’re not mad I did that?”
He gathered my left hand in both of his, cupping it like it was so
precious to even hold my hand. “No. Because now I know peonies are your
favorite.” He brought my hand to his chest. I could feel his heartbeat, and I
wondered if it matched the sudden quickening of mine. Heat crept up my
cheeks, and my eyes lowered to stare at where my hand was on his chest,
but I couldn’t help the impish grin that curved my lips, shy and teasing.
Still with an averted gaze, I said, “I do love the chocolates. You can
continue with that.”
I could feel him branding me with his eyes, so I slowly lifted my head
to look, and my breath caught at the expression of tenderness reflected in
them.
 With a secret smile, he let go of my hand and got out of the seat. He
walked to the back of the plane, and when he returned, he carried with him
a box of chocolates with the signature packaging.
“Did you think I would forget to bring them?”
It was all I could do not to grab the box. Who said you couldn’t have
chocolate early in the morning? I quickly unraveled the bow and opened the
lid to see my favorite selection, and it triggered the same glee I remembered
when he did the same thing in Paris. A flutter in my heart.
“I wasn’t expecting it.” I picked the chocolate dusted with cocoa
powder and popped it into my mouth.
He gave a deep-chested chuckle. “I’d buy the entire damned store if I
could get you a lifetime supply of them.”
“You would?” Surprisingly, I wouldn’t put it past Luca.
“Yeah, but these French are so protective of their craft, they don’t do
franchises. There isn’t even a store in the U.S.”
“Probably because your taste buds don’t deserve it.”
“Baby, I hate to tell you this, but you’re as American as I am now.”
True, probably more since I’d spent two years in small-town America,
but Danvers never felt like home to me.
“So you’re going to fly them in from Paris for me?” I offered Luca a
chocolate with an accompanying coquettishness I hadn’t experienced in a
long time. The old Natalya was still in there. Did I want to be that hopeful
new bride again?
“I have my connections.” He grinned and took one.
And as the chocolate melted in my mouth, it dissolved the sadness I felt
earlier. “Where are we going?”
“I told you, baby, it’s a surprise.”

Luca

“I can’t believe we left our son to go away for a vacation.”

We—or rather I—didn’t waste any time. Sera and Carlotta were waiting
for us when our jet landed in the De Luccis’ private hangar. My niece had
her one-year-old son, Gio, with her, and he distracted Elias. As expected,
she and my sister bombarded Natalya with questions. They were annoyed at
me for not wanting to stay overnight in one of their residences, but I’d
rather face a firing squad than have Carlotta corner my wife and ask her all
kinds of uncomfortable questions. I loved my half sister, but she could be
overwhelming. As her brother, I could only take her in small doses, and my
wife was overwhelmed by her situation as it was.
“Think of it as a honeymoon-redo,” I told her. The Morettis kept losing
our women to the De Luccis. Might as well take advantage of our familial
ties and use everything in their arsenal to win back my wife. They built
their crime family on a strong nuclear one. I envied that.
Sometimes.
Natalya was quiet for a few seconds. We had just merged onto the Long
Island Expressway on our way to Montauk. It was off-season this time of
the year, and for someone like me who hated tourist spots, it was the perfect
time.
“Is it just going to be the two of us?” she asked.
“It’s like a honeymoon, so of course.”
“No guards?”
“No guards. No housekeepers. We can either cook or go to restaurants.”
Glancing over at Natalya, the pensive look on her face troubled me.
“Are you worried it’s just the two of us?”
She gave a brief laugh, momentarily lightening her expression. “It’s
more than that. Wasn’t the reason we kind of sped up my memories’ return
was so we can find out who did this to us? It seems like we’re running away
from what should be done.”
I reached over to take her hand, brought the back of it to press a kiss,
and kept our joined hands on my lap. It was instinctive. It felt right.
“Remember what I told you on the plane?”
“That what we’re building is more important?”
“Yes. We have enemies. They managed to tear us apart. The reason they
managed to tear us apart was because we kept secrets from each other.” I
shot her a quick glance again. “No, don’t do that.” Her head dropped in
what only could look like guilt. “We move on from our mistakes, Natalya.”
When she glanced up at me, her eyes were glinting with tears. “I’m
afraid to trust you with my heart again,” she whispered. “I’ve been going
over this in my mind. At that time, right before I disappeared, I was in love
with you. I was thankful for the breadcrumbs you were finally showing. I
was your doormat.”
If I weren’t driving, I would have closed my eyes at the pain her words
invoked. “Don’t say that.” My own words came out hoarse. “I was trying to
make it right. Do you remember? I asked you in the attic…the night of the
dinner party. The night when you found out my deal with your father.”
She withdrew her hand from mine, and I let her. She hugged her biceps.
“How can I forget?” She turned her head to stare out the window.
I decided to wait until we got to Montauk before I reminded her of all
the things that were going right before she disappeared. It gave me time to
brood. I was impatient, but strategic. I was glad I had that chat with Rachel
so I could put my wife’s present emotions into perspective. I’d fallen in
love with Natalya in Paris. I realized the exact moment. It was that time I
paid attention to her favorite chocolate flavors. I could have just bought an
assorted box instead of a carefully curated one. I saw Natalya take a picture
of the selection with her phone. When she wasn’t looking, I forwarded that
image to my phone. I deceived myself into thinking I was manipulating her
emotions when in fact, I was fighting against the exhilaration that I was
about to put a smile on her face. When I thought about that memory, I didn’t
feel the same rush. It had been too long ago, and many things had happened
between then and now. What transcended the passing of time was tragedy.
Because two years down the road, every time I thought I’d lost Natalya in
that fire, I still felt the twisting of the dagger in my chest. It could still
trigger my nightmares.
Love faded unless one nurtured it, but pain didn’t, and whoever said
time healed all wounds was a liar.
“Ohh…” Natalya breathed beside me. Her face was almost plastered to
the side of the window. “This is a cute little town.”
“Sera never took you here?”
“No. I guess because that time I was with them, it was winter.”
I checked the phone mounted on the dash. “We’ll be at the house in ten
minutes.”
Dom, my nephew, had forwarded me several properties. He grumbled it
had been such a short notice. I gave him less than twenty-four hours. Now
that made me smug. He may be the boss of one of the most powerful crime
families in New York, but he was still my nephew, and I could make
demands like this.
 Our SUV made the turn off the highway into a narrower road. It passed
a couple of smaller houses before the bigger and more secluded ones
started. That was as far as the GPS would go. Dom sent me instructions on
how to get there because the address didn’t show up correctly on the map
app. After a few more miles, we ended in a roundabout intersecting a gravel
road. I took the graveled lane.
Dense trees flanked the beginning of the driveway, their limbs hanging
over us like a canopy. When they cleared, I could see the ocean.
“Oh my God,” Natalya breathed. “Oh my God,” she repeated.
I exhaled slowly and prayed we were heading for the right property
because, glancing at my wife’s face, I’d hate it if we had to turn around. It
would also affect the momentum of my plans.
Full-court press. She was going to fall in love with me again, even if it
killed me.
Because love was worth dying for.
Her love was there. I saw flashes of it in her eyes before doubt would
replace them. And that whole shit was on me.
When the house came into view, I wanted to do a fist pump. It was the
one I selected from the properties Dom showed me. Set high on the
Montauk bluffs, it was a modern take on the Chinese teahouse. Floor-to-
ceiling windows gave an unobstructed view of the ocean. Even I felt a lift in
my spirits as the house drew closer.
“We’re staying here?” Natalya gushed.
“You like it?”
“I didn’t think I was a beach person, but I can’t wait to get to the
oceanfront.”
“Four hundred eighty-five feet of private beach.”
“Wow, how much did this cost you?”
I punched the app for the garage door opener. The gates lifted as our
SUV continued to roll down the driveway. “That’s between Dom and me.”
“I’m still feeling guilty we left Elias.”
“Say that to me again when you get a full view of the ocean.”
My wife turned toward me, and the smile on her face was the smile
when I gave her chocolates that first time.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter
Thirty-Five

N atalya

Luca told me to explore while he brought in our things. It took little

convincing. The second the vehicle cleared the trees, unveiling a wide-open
space, my spirits soared.
I wondered if I’d been claustrophobic, and I needed a change of scenery
away from the mansion that had caused me more heartache than happiness.
I circled the living room. The view was a lifelike panoramic painting of the
Atlantic Ocean. I’d never seen anything like it. I opened the side door and
stepped onto the patio.
How was it possible that I felt powerful and insignificant at the same
time? I breathed in the saltwater air. It would be too cold for swimsuits in
April. I checked the weather earlier, and the forecast said it was going to be
in the fifties this week.
I felt Luca’s warmth behind me, but I waited for him to speak.
“You approve?” he rumbled.
A smile played on my lips. I turned to face him. “This is a strange first
date.”
He chuckled and took a step closer, closer in a way that made me back
up a step until the small of my back hit the railing. Closer in a way that had
him caging me in with each arm on either side of me, making me tilt my
chin up. Closer in a way that made my breath hitch and my heart pound
faster.
 His body was scant centimeters away. He didn’t press me against the
railing, but his restraint was palpable.
“Ahh, but it’s not a first date. It’s our honeymoon.”
I worried he could hear the pounding in my chest. “I don’t think I’m
ready for a honeymoon.”
“Relax,” he said softly, and the way he said it made me replay all our
sexual escapades in Paris. The first time he took me from behind, the first
time I took him in my mouth. The many times and places where he ate me
out. Heat and wetness pooled between my legs.
A satisfied gleam entered his eyes, as though he sensed my reaction to
that single word. “I put our things in opposite bedrooms.”
My brows furrowed. “What do you mean, opposite?”
He turned away from me and pointed to one corner and then the other.
“Opposite sides of the house. There are four bedrooms on the property. Two
on each side.” He turned back to face me with a rueful curve to his mouth.
“I’m afraid I’ll forget my good intentions if I’m near you.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. On our wedding day, I couldn’t wait
for him to own my sensuality. When I saw him again after two years, I
pegged him as a man who could be my one-night stand. I was willing to
risk having sex with him. But finding out we were bound by marriage gave
me pause. Our relationship was complicated before, made more complex by
my amnesia.
His gaze was intent on my face. “Honestly, I’m not sure how long I can
keep my hands off you.” He had caged me in again, and I glanced at his
hand on my right, gripping the railing.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be standing this close.” I swallowed and tried to
get saliva back on my tongue. “I’m thirsty.”
He stared at me for a beat before he stood back. I walked past him,
straight into the kitchen. Since we were both new to this property, it was no
use asking him where things were. I opened the refrigerator, and it was
empty. I searched the pantry for a glass and pressed it against the water
dispenser. Luca prowled into the kitchen, spread his arms, and gripped the
counter, leaning into it.
Tension pinged between us.
“I’m attracted to you.” It annoyed me that my words were part squeak,
part breathless.
 His face had one of those patient expressions, but his eyes grew more
alert at my admission. When he didn’t comment, I continued, “I think
physically, I’ll always be attracted to you.”
“That’s a relief,” he said dryly. “We could work with that.”
There was another thing that bothered me when I had googled him
recently. Before I got my memories back, it didn’t bother me, but now that
I’d remembered, it had caused me a lot of misery during our marriage and I
had to know. “I saw pictures of you and Jessica after I disappeared.”
“I never cheated on you, if that’s your question. I already told you we
moved in the same circles. She’s an heiress who loves hanging out with
morally gray men. She has daddy issues, and it’s her form of rebellion. Her
father used to be an alderman on the city council and had been a pain in our
asses because he blocked our licenses, so I enjoyed flaunting Jessica in his
face. When he retired, so had my interest in Jessica. I kept her around
because she was convenient.”
I stared at his throat. “Has she met Elias?”
His jaw fell open, and I recognized the self-righteousness that stiffened
every line in his body. “No. I still considered myself married when you
disappeared. When I said my vows, even if I scorned them, I meant them. I
don’t care that mafia laws allow me a mistress.” He released his death grip
on the counter and rounded it to get to me, reminding me of a predator. He
stepped right up to me, but he didn’t cage me in like he did on the porch. He
lowered his head. “I was desperate for you and you alone. My cock ached
to be buried inside you, tesoro, and my hand was a poor substitute, but it
got me through those endless miserable nights when I missed you.”
Oh my God, those filthy words still did it for me, but that he’d stayed
celibate for two years because of his commitment to our marriage made my
whole body come alive. Devotion and fidelity were an aphrodisiac to me
apparently, and I wanted to jump his bones right there, but there was still so
much to unpack between us and I managed, “Don’t…”
“Don’t…?” he said against my mouth. “Does it make you feel guilty?
After having you, no other woman could replace you. I wondered…have
you given yourself to another man?”
The accusation sounded so absurd, I snapped, “No.”
“Why not?” The way he asked that question was enough for me to deny
his accusation because his face had morphed to murderous. I kept forgetting
how Luca was such a mercurial man.
 Honesty, Rachel’s voice said in my head. Even though it was going to
make him a smug bastard, he deserved to know that I inadvertently stayed
celibate because my body craved only his. “Because no other man seemed
to do it for me.”
Yep. Smug. His brow arched at the same time a corner of his mouth
curved.
“If you must know, that time you showed up at Danvers with Dario was
the first time I was willing to consider having a one-night stand if it was
you.”
I was expecting more smugness, but a pained expression crossed his
face. The suddenness of how he grabbed me made me yelp. He plastered
our bodies together, and I gasped at the hardness that was pressing against
my belly.
His tortured voice said in my ear, “I want to savor this. You back in my
arms again. I want to fuck you so badly, kiss you so badly, but if I start
kissing you, I won’t be able to stop and I don’t want it to be reduced to a
quick fuck on the kitchen counter.”
Luca let me go suddenly and strode away, calling over his shoulder, “Be
ready in fifteen minutes. We’ll have to do groceries.”
That one-eighty had my head spinning and every single cell in my body
aching with frustration.

Luca

I started the water, switching it to the coldest temperature. I yelled when it

hit me with unforgiving needles. But my body was one rip-roaring fever. I
nearly threw Natalya on the counter so I could bury my face in her pussy.
The craving was so strong, I had to get away from her. No way were we
having sex for the first time in the kitchen and have me last two seconds.
The water cooled my skin, but not the fire raging in my veins. I relented
and twisted the dial to a reasonable temp. I fisted my cock and closed my
eyes.
As the water swished over me, I imagined what I would have done. I
wouldn’t have stopped at eating her out. I’d remove her pants, drag her
panties down with them, and lift her legs over my shoulders. I would slip
my hands under her ass and lift her hips sky high and devour her with my
mouth. It wouldn’t be comfortable for her, but with the way I was feeling
right now, I wanted to punish her for two years of suffering. I wanted her to
scream my name over and over and beg me to stop.
My fist stroked my erection faster. I was about to explode. I would pull
out my cock and shove into her, pumping her fast and hard. Was she on
birth control? I didn’t care. All I wanted was to claim her again. Fill her
with my cum and have it drip down her legs.
I groaned when I started coming. My hand slapped the tile and darkness
edged my vision. After a few seconds, I switched off the water. I was still
breathing hard, but partly relieved that I had taken the edge off.
For now.
Ten minutes later, I returned to the living room dressed for a casual day.
I’d gotten used to wearing clothes other than suits ever since Elias was
born. The boy had an uncanny ability to throw up when I had changed into
one.
Natalya appeared five minutes later. Her dark hair was in a ponytail.
Sometimes, it still jarred me that she was no longer blonde. For two years,
that was the image I had of her.
“What?” She looked down at her khaki pants and dark sweater and
white sneakers.
“Still getting used to you not being blonde.”
She self-consciously patted her hair. “Did you prefer me as a blonde?”
“I prefer whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Her mouth twitched. “Are you being diplomatic?”
“Not at all.” I cleared my throat, tilting my head to scratch my right
brow to buy myself more time, but I felt I had to apologize for earlier. “I’m
sorry for running out.”
“I wondered about that. It was like I suddenly caught a disease.”
“I had to get out of the kitchen before I made you my lunch.”
She was giving me a strange look. One with narrowed eyes and
puckered brows, like she wasn’t sure she understood me.
“I wanted to bury my face between your legs,” I stated, inhaling sharply.
Fuck, saying that wasn’t helping. “I had to beat one out in the shower.”
Her cheeks pinkened.
 I gave a shake of my head. “Are you ready to go?” I was behaving like a
schoolboy who was taking his crush on a first date. I was the fucking boss
of the Chicago mob. But the stakes of my marriage were too high to fuck up
by hiding my emotions. That was what caused problems in our marriage.
“Where are we going?” Her voice came out a whisper.
The air between us became awkward as fuck. Maybe it was better to
just fuck and get it out of our system.
“I thought we could have lunch first and then go grocery shopping.”
The strange look on her face returned. “Have you ever gone grocery
shopping?”
“Sure, I have,” I said. “When I was in Chicago, I didn’t have a Martha.”
She crossed her arms. “You had a wife who could have done that for
you.”
I bit back a curse and gritted, “That’s why I suggested it.”
“What are we doing here, Luca?” she asked. “You know, we could just
have it delivered.”
Something in what she said triggered a sadness inside me of something
lost. “I took our marriage for granted.” Closing the distance between us, I
continued, “I want us to experience this domestic bliss…”
She raised a brow, arms still folded over her chest. “Or torture.”
I chuckled. “That too.” I put my hands on her shoulders. “What I’m
saying, baby, is I want you to show me how you lived away from me these
past two years.”
“And as usual, you start with the basics.”
I shrugged. “Of course.”
So we started with lunch at a sushi place. That much had not changed.
Before our marriage, we defaulted to Japanese food when we couldn’t think
of anything else. My shortcomings as a husband were becoming more stark.
I could only remember a handful of times we went out on a date after we
returned from Paris. I wouldn’t even call them dates because they were
usually after her checkups. When I realized I wanted more from Natalya,
Elias made it impossible to go out on romantic dinners because we’d been
sleep-deprived. Her more so than me. In my attempt to make her feel better
with her decisions, I’d become the selfish husband in retrospect.
Now I was pushing the cart around in the grocery store while she
inspected the cereal selections. When she saw my frown, she laughed,
“Don’t tell Martha and Nessa I’ve grown addicted to Cap’n Crunch.”
 I checked the sugar content on the box. “It isn’t good for you, baby.”
“Just while we’re here.” She pouted. “I want it for dinner. I’ll leave
breakfast up to you.”
“You want cereal for dinner?”
“You woke me at four this morning. I don’t think I want to cook or eat
anything heavy.”
We passed by the dairy section, and while she picked up milk, I grabbed
eggs and yogurt. “I was thinking we could walk on the beach this evening.”
“I’m fading.” She gave me exaggerated droopy eyes that made me
chuckle. I gave her a quick hug. “Okay, tesoro.” I was glad I hadn’t made
solid plans tonight.
When we returned to the house and put the groceries away, we
immediately set out for the beach. The wind was brisk. Natalya had to put
on an extra jacket. We took off our shoes and walked parallel to the shore. It
was five in the afternoon. Sunset wouldn’t be happening until seven, but
from the way Natalya kept on yawning, I didn’t think she was going to last.
The surf of the Atlantic Ocean crashed near our feet. “So what was it
like? Living on your own, not knowing what you liked?”
She watched a swooping seagull for a beat before answering. “By trial
and error. Some things were instinctive. Naturally, I used Doc Gleason as
my benchmark. I ate what he ate, drank what he drank, and struck out on
my own to explore later. It felt like a reset of sorts.”
“I’m surprised you liked cereal. Your body has changed from feminine
to athletic.”
She glanced up at me warily. “Brad. He was my physical therapist. I
caught the gym bug from him. After my wrist healed, I lived in the gym for
almost six months.”
At the mention of the coffee shop owner, my shoulders tensed. I moved
closer to Natalya. I brushed her hand closest to mine. Slowly, but
deliberately, I linked our fingers. She didn’t pull away.
“It didn’t last, but I went to the gym occasionally and I also started
running,” she said. “I think it was a way of reclaiming my life. Something I
could control.”
“We have a gym at the mansion. It’s in the basement.”
“I know. Danvers didn’t feel like home, but I made something for
myself there. I don’t know how it fits in my life now.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
 Natalya stopped walking. “Can we sit here?”
“Sure.”
We dropped our asses on the sand. I had never done this before. Why
hadn’t I done this before? My life was the concrete jungles of Chicago and
Vegas and other metropolitan areas. The only isolated place I loved
spending time in was Tralestelle. Here, with the ocean and its vastness and
depths of unknown secrets, I should be itching to get back to the city, but I
wasn’t.
I dislodged the block of apprehension in my throat. “This is the first
time…in…in my life I’ve sat on the beach with someone.” For fuck’s sake,
I was stammering and I couldn’t meet Natalya’s eyes. It was as if I’d
confessed to an embarrassing disease.
I could feel her regard burning down the side of my face.
“How come?” she asked.
This time, I glanced at her and shot her a brief smile. “Maybe for the
same reasons you haven’t.”
“Mamma didn’t like the sun because she said it ruins the complexion,”
she said, her voice a raspy whisper in the wind. “She also worried I would
mess up my hair color.”
“Did you change your hair color because you were hiding?”
“That”—she thought for a few beats, digging her toes in the sand. Her
pretty little toes—“and it was high maintenance.”
“Do you miss being high maintenance?”
She jerked back and cast me a horrified look. “No! I mean, nerds like
me are pretty low maintenance. We like a lot of sugary snacks, as I found
out. But I promise to do better for Elias.”
“You should. That’s where we will clash, tesoro. What we feed our
child.”
She rolled her eyes. “You and your preoccupation with food. Waffles
aren’t exactly the best to feed a child, especially when you drown them in
maple syrup.”
I fought back a smile to wear a serious face as I said, “Then when we
return, we should pay attention to what we feed Elias. Martha caves in
easily when it comes to sweets.”
“The poor woman. Elias is too active for her.”
“But you’re there now.”
 My last statement was met with silence and a pained smile. I was never
going to let her go, but I didn’t want to come on too strong when her mind
was in a fragile state of discovering who she was. But waiting for her to
make up her mind whether she loved me the same or not was excruciating.
For two years, the what-ifs tormented me the most. I should have loved her
the way she loved me. Regretted the work I could have delegated to
someone else and spent those times making Natalya happy instead. Had it
only been two weeks since I found her again? Fate had given me a second
chance, but fate had a sick sense of humor by giving her the worst
memories of me to come back first.
“I need to ask you for something,” I said gruffly. Natalya visibly
stiffened, even edged slightly away from me. “I’ve asked you to trust me
before. I’m asking you again now. Not just for Elias, but because I’m in
love with you. And I believe…” I paused. “You still love me.”
Natalya inhaled sharply, then looked away.
“I was an idiot,” I admitted. “I was so careless with your heart.”
“You trampled on it,” she said viciously, her eyes glassy with tears and
condemnation. “Why did you do it, Luca? Why make me fall in love with
you and then not want it?”
I’d contemplated that question myself. “It’s a combination of things. I
saw what love had done to Junior. I didn’t want his weakness, but I needed
to gain your loyalty by making you love me. I hid behind the men-of-honor
code to put the Chicago family first.”
“Loving someone isn’t a weakness,” she said. “If that’s how you feel,
then we were over before we started. You didn’t have to forsake your duty
to family by forsaking me. If I’d felt more secure in your love, I think I
would have understood you when you missed Elias’s birth.”
“I get that now,” I said fiercely. I got up from her side and sank to my
knees in front of her. “I’ve loved you since Paris.”
She made a derisive sound. “You don’t have to lie—”
“I’m not. It started when I gave you the chocolates. I convinced myself
it was part of the master plan to make you fall in love with me. I have this
vicious cycle of when I start feeling something for you, I back the hell
away. When you asked me to walk in the rain…”
“You were fighting it.”
I nodded grimly. “And justified it to the others by belittling it.”
“You were an asshole.”
 I still was. “There’ll always be that asshole in me. You need to call me
on my bullshit.”
She looked past my shoulder at the ocean. The silence was loud against
the crashing of the waves. When her eyes returned to me, she said, “It also
happened during the first checkup.”
My shoulders drooped, and I wanted to hug her, afraid she’d run away
while I confessed one of my first monumental failures as a supportive
husband to his pregnant wife. “Hearing the fetal heartbeat—with you in my
arms, I choked with fear, because my mind skipped ahead that I would lose
both of you.”
“That’s crazy.”
“And then when you left the mansion during that rainstorm, I lost it in
front of my men. I had to do damage control.”
“That’s why you made an example of Tony.”
“To show my men that I was not ruled by my emotions for my wife.”
“After that, you set expectations.”
The litany of my sins continued. “I had to, Natalya. I wanted to show
you how much I care for you, but I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea
because that would also make me vulnerable to that weakness.”
“So what changed? How can I trust you not to be a coward again about
love?”
Fuck it, I needed to touch her. She flinched when my hand tried to brush
her face, so I settled by putting them on her knees. “What changed? The
second I saw you and Elias, I started to change.”
Her mouth curved into a sneer. “You sent me to sleep in the nursery.”
“No, Natalya. That was what you wanted. I didn’t want to put the onus
on you, so I behaved like an ass. And no, I’m not gaslighting you. I’d been
after you to hire a nanny. You were stressed, baby. I didn’t know it was
because you suspected me of sex trafficking.”
Remorse tinged her eyes. “Sometimes I wondered if we could have
avoided all these tragedies if I were honest with you from the start. I
couldn’t demand you tell me everything when I was hiding so many secrets
of my own.”
“We can’t regret that now,” I told her with conviction. “What happened,
happened. This was more my fault than yours, Natalya. I was the
manipulative bastard. You couldn’t trust me because I didn’t give you
enough reason to do so. But now I have you back. I just want to move
forward.”
She dropped her gaze. “I have the Russians’ money. What do we do?
Doriana isn’t responding anymore.”
I crawled back to her side and faced the ocean. The we in her statement
gave me hope. I’d take any crumbs she could give me and run with it.
“We’ll figure that out too.” I put an arm around her and drew her close.
There were a few seconds of resistance and those few seconds felt like
minutes in which I held my breath, waiting for her to reject me.
She slumped into me in a way that hinted of surrender. The hope had
turned into full-blown elation but there was a cloud still hovering, an Orlov-
sized cloud.
“I’m so tired,” she murmured.
I wasn’t sure if she meant she was exhausted from our trip today or
about the whole Russian thing.
“I’ve got you.” I kissed the top of her head while she burrowed further
into my chest. “I want you to relax. You’re not alone in this anymore, all
right?”
She didn’t say the word but nodded in affirmation.
That was enough for me.

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 Chapter
Thirty-Six

N atalya

“Something smells good. Is that garlic?”

Luca glanced away from the ingredients he was tossing in the skillet
like he was a master chef on some cooking show. “Help yourself to coffee
and take a seat. This is almost ready.”
I slid onto a barstool behind the kitchen island, admiring his fine ass in
gray sweatpants and his broad back in a white undershirt. A week had
passed since we arrived in Montauk. Despite the good insulation in the
house, I woke up to the smell of garlic. That was because I left the French
doors to my room slightly open. I wanted the sound of the ocean to lull me
to sleep and wake me up slowly. My sleep had been dreamless save for a
few erotic ones starring Luca, my waking-up moments peaceful. There was
something healing about this place and this isolation.
“What are you cooking? That looks like a lot for breakfast.”
“Sausage fried rice.”
My mouth watered. I told Luca how I discovered my love of eating
leftover Chinese food at midnight during one of our beach walks.
“No wonder you had me cook a lot of rice yesterday,” I said. Our
discussion also included what type of rice made the best fried rice. All
Asian cookbooks would tell you that cold leftover rice made the best. We
mimicked the same activities we did when we were on our honeymoon. We
ate at restaurants, watched movies on the wide-screen TV, we ate at home—
I prepared dinner while breakfast was Luca’s domain, or we simply ordered
takeout. The exception was Luca didn’t disappear for secret meetings and I
didn’t secretly get on my laptop.
And the sex? So far, there was no sex.
Luca turned around and set the giant platter of fried rice in front of me.
“That’s a lot,” I repeated.
“Eat what you can.” He parked his ass beside me. “You’ll need it for
tonight.”
I shook my head and laughed briefly. “We’re really going to do this?”
“No backing out now.”
On our second night in Montauk, Luca took me to an Argentinian
restaurant. What was special about that night was it was usually closed on
Thursdays during the off-season. We had the restaurant all to ourselves with
our own string quartet playing romantic music. We also found out there was
going to be a tango festival today.
Luca apparently knew how to dance the tango. Jealousy stabbed me in
the chest when I wondered who he had danced with.
“It’s hard to back out when I’ve already bought a new dress and new
shoes.” I laughed into my coffee even when the wings of nerves fluttered
madly in my stomach. Of course I had to look up the tango scenes in True
Lies and Scent of a Woman. Those were iconic, and they looked easy, sexy.
They were not easy.
I must have groaned, because Luca nudged my shoulder. “We won’t
have to do anything fancy. Just float around. I’ll guide you.”
I started digging into my breakfast and cocked my head in his direction.
He was giving me those panty-melting gazes that further turned the flutter
of butterflies in my stomach into a riot. I was feeling the no-sex strain in
our interactions, and there was nothing more torturous than dancing the
tango. It wasn’t only the proximity, but the music itself. We practiced a bare
minimum, because every time we did, an inferno overcame my body while
drenching my panties at the same time. It could be sweat, but who was I
kidding? I knew it affected Luca too.
Whoever said tango was a sensual dance wasn’t lying.
“What do you want to do today?” he asked.
“We explored most of Montauk. I’m not sure if my body is aching from
the dance practices or all the walking.”
He grinned devilishly and shot me a look full of promise. “We can’t
have that now.”
 He’d been doing that from day one, but he never followed through. We
always said good night in the middle of the kitchen before we headed into
our own rooms.
Did he want me to make the first move? He was not unaffected. He was
never ashamed of his boner when one of our dance rehearsals got too
heated. I remembered when he asked me to swing my leg over his thigh and
my pussy rubbed against those hard muscles, Luca’s groan was reminiscent
of those times he came inside me. And I think I left a wet spot on his pants.
“You’re blushing,” Luca observed. “You’re too young to have hot
flashes.”
“Fuck you, Luca,” I mumbled.
Before he took a sip of coffee, he muttered, “Soon.”
And I could’ve just spontaneously combusted in my chair.
After breakfast and as was our routine, we walked on the beach. Our
most meaningful conversations occurred here. I wondered if it was because
we felt free to share our thoughts and feelings that were too big to contain
within four walls. Here we trusted the ocean to cleanse our sins and
shortcomings while also carrying away our heartaches we whispered to
each other. I was ready to face another one.
“Did you bring your phone with you?” I asked.
Luca glanced at me with a puzzled look. “Yeah, why?”
“I was never ready,” I told him. “But I think I am now.”
He stopped walking. “Ready for what, baby?”
“You offered for me to look at pictures and videos of Elias you took in
the past two years. At first it was because we didn’t want to affect the way
my memory returned.” I inhaled sharply as if drawing strength from the
ocean. I let out a slow exhale. “When all my memories returned?” Tears
stung my eyes. “All I wanted was to hug my boy, but I was a coward not to
witness all those years he’d spent without me.”
“I get that.” He pulled me down to the sand, angled one way to slip his
phone out. “You were back in that mindset where you didn’t feel worthy.”
“Yes.” That one word came out as a ragged syllable. “I feel better…
about us.”
Luca rolled his lips and nodded. “That’s…good.”
“We’re not suddenly fixed, but I remember feeling hope when you
started trying. I could feel that now in the past week as you continue to try.
You’re an open book. Honest.” I put a hand over my heart. “It doesn’t feel
like heartache anymore.”
He tapped the phone on his lips. “This might make you sad. I don’t want
you sad.”
“I have to see them sometime,” I said. “I want to see them now.”
Luca nodded and swiped his phone. He handed it to me and I almost
laughed when it was mostly pictures of Elias. I was sure he had a burner for
the mafia stuff. I fortified my emotions, buckled down, and started
scrolling. The first image of Elias was way older than what I expected.
A lump formed in my throat. “How old was he here?”
Luca looked at the picture for a while. “Seven months. I…Martha and
Nessa might have more pictures before that age.”
Our eyes met. There was pain reflected there.
“I was just…” A muscle twitched at his jawline. I imagined him
grinding his molars. His mouth flattened and no words would come. The
seagulls squawked above us. They weren’t flapping their wings, but the
wind beneath them kept them suspended. I reached for Luca’s hand and
squeezed.
He snatched me in his arms and hugged me tight. “I was just lost
without you, baby. Our son…he was my lifeline. Without him, I don’t think
this man in front of you would exist.” His voice sounded so broken, the
walls around my heart cracked. The emotions that I’d once felt for him
filtered through.
And when he pulled back, the anguish reflected in his eyes, of a man
who’d lost his entire world, drew out the remnants of the love I used to feel
for him.
The love before I found out about his deal with Papà.
The love before the time he missed Elias’s birth.
The love before he stomped on my heart and told me of his
expectations.
I forgive him, and it’s liberating.
He swallowed hard. “Our son kept me tethered to this world. To what
was right. Without him, I would have gone down the path that would have
burned the family to ashes. Without Elias, I would have lost everything.”
I cupped his jaw. “I’m glad you had him.” Tears rolled down my cheeks,
bringing with it the pain of missing them for two years, but also the love, a
fabric with jagged edges defining the girl I once was, and the woman I was
now.
“You and he are my world, tesoro,” he enunciated. “Don’t leave me
again.”
“I won’t.”
We stared at each other for a while, our lips a hairsbreadth away. I was
afraid to close the distance because every time he kissed me, it only gave
me heartache. Was that why he hesitated too?
He gave voice to my thoughts. “I’m afraid to kiss you.”
“Why?”
“Because I might not be able to stop and I’ll fuck you right here.”
I laughed lightly because apparently, we had different reasons. “Yes, I
don’t think getting sand everywhere will be very comfortable.” We leaned
away at almost the same time.
My eyes returned to the phone, and I clicked play on the video. Elias
was crawling. The tears returned, but this time it wasn’t because of loss. It
was of something else.
Luca cleared his throat. “This one.” He pressed the triangle on another
video. “I captured him at the right moment.”
Elias crawled to the couch and used it to stand up. He looked over his
shoulder right at the phone’s camera.
“Come on, sport, you can do it.” It was Luca’s voice.
Elias made a cheery sound and toddled a few steps forward.
Luca said on the video,“Holy fuck.”
I burst into tears. My baby’s first steps.

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 Chapter
Thirty-Seven

N atalya

I’d never taken so much care with my appearance since Paris. Makeup and
hair on point. I took a curling iron to my hair and it gave me bouncy and
sassy waves. My lashes were thick enough, but I extended them with
mascara. Cat eyeliner and shimmery metallic green shadow. Very red
lipstick.
My dress was made of black jersey with a plunging back and exposed
my bare arms. The skirt hit right at mid-calf but was asymmetrical. I was so
thankful to have packed sexy underwear because with all that twirling
around, there was no doubt my panties were going to do a peekaboo.
The four-inch heels sexified the shape of my legs. I’d worn nothing but
sneakers for the past two years, but before I disappeared, I was used to
wearing heels at Mamma’s insistence. Wearing them while practicing the
dance with Luca, I was thankful for all those years of ballet that made me
flexible because even though Luca said we were going to keep to the simple
moves, many times we got carried away. He’d pull my leg over his thigh
and drag me along.
It was so damned erotic.
Giving myself one last twirl in front of the mirror, I grabbed my
sequined bag and left the room.
My heels clacked on the wooden floor. I came to the kitchen, but
movement near the windows drew my attention. Luca was on the phone,
but when he saw me, he immediately ended the call and stalked toward me.
 He was wearing a tux that left no doubt it was custom made to fit his
wide shoulders, the sharp lines crisp and tapered, accentuated his trim torso
without being too tight.
“God, Natalya,” he breathed, stopping a foot from me. “I don’t think
we’ll make it out of the house.” His eyes were nothing but raw, feral
hunger. And they were eating me alive from head to toe. Speaking of which,
my toes curled inside my shoes. With the four inches, it brought me almost
to the top of Luca’s chin.
The dress became too clingy and my nipples became sensitive to the
jersey material.
“I don’t know if I should bring a purse, but can I keep my lipstick in
your pocket?”
“Sure, baby.” His gaze was still busy devouring every inch of my body.
“So, shall we?” I was getting self-conscious.
He drew me close. “Are you sure you wanna leave?”
His hooded eyes stoked my awareness that very little encouragement
was needed to just change plans and go at it.
“I—” I started.
The ringtone of a phone blasted between us.
It was Luca. He shook his head. “Sera wants to FaceTime.”
“Oh, I had my phone on silent,” I said. “I promised to show her my
dress.”
We talked to Sera and Elias every morning and before bedtime.
“You caught us at a bad time,” Luca told his niece.
I grabbed his phone. “Don’t believe him.”
Sera was laughing, but she had Elias on her lap. Our boy tried to grab
Sera’s phone for himself.
“Look at Mamma,” Sera said. “Oh my God, I didn’t recognize you. I’m
still getting used to you not being blonde. Show me.”
I handed the phone back to Luca. “Here, hold it while I model.”
Luca rolled his eyes but did as he was told. “You don’t want to see how
I look?”
“Eh,” Sera said. “I’ve seen you enough times in a tux.”
I laughed. Luca held the phone toward me while I backed up a couple of
steps and did a couple of tango steps, including a twirl.
Sera squealed. “I looooove it!”
 I walked back to Luca, and he hauled me against him. “The things I
want to do to you.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’ve been threatening for a week.”
“Oh my, I can just feel the tension between you two. Say bye, Elias.”
“Wait…” I choked on my amusement that was reflected on Sera’s face.
The impatience of the man beside me was as palpable as the throbbing
between my legs.
“No more waiting,” Luca grumbled. “Bye, sport.”
“Bye, Papà…” Elias looked at me, then at Sera, then back at me again.
“Bye, Waf-waf.”
Sera laughed. “You guys need to fix that.”
“For real.” I stared at Luca. “Next time we’re here, it’ll be the three of
us.”
“Sounds good to me.” Luca didn’t wait a second longer and ended the
call.
Pocketing the phone, he ushered me to the exit without another word.
“Are we in a rush?”
He glared at me as though his impatience was my fault. “I’m just doing
the right thing here.” I detected the strain in his voice. “After the tango…”
His eyes glittered with possessive intent. “You’re all mine.”
I could orgasm to those words and the rawness with how he said them.
The Audi SUV was already parked at the entrance. Luca helped me into
the seat and closed the door. But he braced his hands on the roof and stared
at me through the tinted window. He just stood there looking at me and
making me nervous. He straightened and rapped my window lightly with
the side of his fist before he prowled around the front of the vehicle, his
eyes on the ground, hands in his pockets as though he was still deep in
thought.
When he slid into the driver’s side, I asked, “What was that all about?”
He didn’t look at me and started the engine. “I’ll give you three
guesses.”
I wasn’t really as dense as I sounded, but I was suddenly feeling all
powerful. “You’re having second thoughts of doing the tango in front of
everyone?”
He used the heel of one hand to steer the vehicle around. Points for
making that look sexy.
“It’s related.” The Audi started up the driveway.
 “You’d rather stay at home and cuddle and watch movies?” I tongue-in-
cheeked.
Still staring straight ahead, he emitted a brief chuckle. It was a few
seconds before he stole a glance at me, then he returned his attention to the
road. “Oh, tesoro, you’re really asking for it.”
I’d been asking for it since day three. We had more self-restraint than a
dating couple with a three-date rule. But given everything that had
happened between us, I thought we were handling things just fine.
Reconnecting was harder than falling in love for the first time because of all
the baggage that came with it.
Forget fine, I was damned proud of how far we’d come. Until tonight, I
didn’t know how much I’d missed the girl who had the confidence to flirt
with her husband.
Husband. I finally could refer to Luca as my husband and my own
possessiveness had been sharpening its claws. Much to my relief, he’d
stopped walking on eggshells around me. He didn’t rein in his dirty talk. He
didn’t disguise his desire for me. It went a long way to restoring the
confidence I’d lost. I still had to work on deserving Elias, but with Luca at
my side, I didn’t feel that it was insurmountable.
Luca glanced at me again when I didn’t respond. I merely shot him a
flirtatious smile. The SUV had turned onto Montauk Highway and it was a
brief five minutes to the festival. Whether he could see it in the dim light of
the interior or not, I didn’t really care. I thought how our talks on the beach
had been so liberating and cleansing. This final one where I allowed myself
to enjoy Elias’s first two years was cathartic. All emotions. All at once. The
anger was less. The sadness was there and the bittersweet, but it ended with
joy and hope and forgiveness. And hope was what propelled me the whole
day because I’d finally reached the point of allowing my heart to fall in love
with my husband again.
How could I hold back and let myself doubt when Luca never moved
on?
He searched for me.
He fought another man for me and almost killed him.
He built a shrine for me.
I wasn’t even appalled the first time I saw it. It was quite endearing. But
my emotions then were for a man grieving for a woman that wasn’t me. The
day when we visited the burnt house was the day I felt all that grief directed
at me. As I thought back to it now, that must have triggered how I
remembered my laptop from the teddy bear.
The brain and heart worked in mysterious ways.
“You’re deep in thought,” he said. “Care to share?”
“I’m thinking about the shrine you made for me.”
Another rumble of laughter shook his chest. It suited Luca as much as
his brooding did. We shared so much unfettered joy in the past few days, of
shared laughter over silly things like burnt toast to how sneaky the gulls
were in dropping bread in the freshwater pond to lure the fish to the surface.
“And you’re not afraid of how obsessed I am with you?” he asked.
“It seemed obsessive, especially since you weren’t sure if I was alive or
dead.”
“I stopped lying to myself a long time ago,” he said, turning into the
parking lot of the festival. “I’ve always been obsessed. I just didn’t know
it…”
He left those words hanging, and I mulled them over while he looked
for a space to park. Nessa said he was the king of denial. I bit my inner
cheek to keep from laughing. Luca really was.
“Vaffanculo,” he cursed at the car in front of us with the matching
gesture. “Make up your mind.”
“There’s a lot of parking over on that end. You don’t have to squeeze in
beside that car.”
“I don’t want you walking a long way in those heels,” Luca said shortly.
“Aw,” I said. “That’s sweet, but you can carry me, caro.”
Luca smiled at me. “Of course I can and I will.”
The tango festival was at a recreation center that had an outdoor space. I
wasn’t sure if the organizers were going to hold it outside, though, unless
they had a wooden platform for the dancers. I cringed at the idea of dancing
on concrete and grass.
Plus, the weather called for rain later that night.
Festivalgoers crowded the parking lot. They were not confined to the
people who arrived in cars, but also those who walked in from nearby
hotels and establishments.
Luca finally parked the Audi. “Don’t get down. I’ll come get you.”
“You don’t have to carry me. I was kidding.”
I clasped my fingers together. I couldn’t believe the giddiness and
excitement I was feeling. Luca rounded the vehicle, adjusting his bow tie.
When he opened my door, he held out his hand. I put mine in his and
gingerly slid to the ground.
His eyes darkened when I looked up at him. I was taken aback by the
naked hunger I saw there. Oh boy. “Don’t carry me, okay? It’s a short
distance, and I probably should get used to these shoes.”
He tucked my hand on his elbow and whispered in my ear, “Just
remember, I’m at your service.”
The way he said service scattered my thoughts, and I had an image of
his face between my legs while I was flat on my back with my legs spread
and cocked frog-style. I was looking at myself from above and I realized it
had been from a dream. Thankfully, my motor skills were in order as I put
one foot ahead of the other. The sounds of the orchestra drifted into the
parking lot and it added to the energy of the night.
As we entered the facility, someone checked our tickets and wrapped
our event tags around our wrists. Past the check-in table, there were groups
of people already practicing. The festival had offered private lessons
throughout the week, but Luca said I didn’t need them since he taught me
himself.
They held the competition outdoors. Festival lights reminiscent of
fiestas surrounded the raised platform in the middle of the lawn. An
orchestra was playing on a separate raised stage with dominant melodies
from violins and cellos.
We got our drinks. Mine was a strawberry margarita while Luca had the
Malbec. Then we walked around to check the vast array of Argentinian
finger foods. I think I’d eaten three empanadas, but I was careful not to eat
too much. Luca and I had our caricature drawn by an artist. There were
other activities to pass the time and in between we watched the competition.
The dance moves were awe-inspiring, but I couldn’t envision myself doing
all the fancy leg flicking.
Luca was behind me, hugging me close. I glanced up at him. “I’d like to
continue our dancing when we go home, but I don’t think I want to do all
that leg-flicking stuff. I don’t want to end up with a dislocated kneecap.”
He gave a hearty chuckle and sipped his wine. “Not a fan of that either.
I prefer the leg wrap.”
I rolled my eyes. “I bet you do.”
When the emcee started announcing the winners, Luca put our things in
the vehicle and returned in time for the opening of the main dance floor to
the public. However, reminiscent of the street tango of Buenos Aires,
several platforms were also set up in different spots around the center. Soon,
it was a jumble of music, punching up the craziness of the night.
To prevent a crowded dance floor, each couple was assigned sets, but
we got on the first one.
I breathed a sigh of relief when the orchestra started with “Por Una
Cabeza.” It was the quintessential tango music of the movies, a melody
people were familiar with and one Luca and I loved rehearsing to.
Picking up my right hand, Luca led me to the dance floor. My feet were
like lead and wobbled on my heels, but I kept my chin up. When we
claimed our space, we made a quarter turn to face each other. Luca stepped
into me and caressed my face like he was touching the most precious jewel
in the world. Our gazes locked, the intensity in his eyes trapping the oxygen
in my lungs. His hand trailed down my side before he picked up my right
hand once more and I put my left one on his shoulder.
We started to move.
At first I was too busy remembering the steps—when to walk, when to
do the figure of eight, and its reverse.
Luca’s hand on my back straightened my spine, and he said in a
commanding voice, “Eyes on me, tesoro.”
I felt those words all the way between my legs and I saw all the passion
and smolder in Luca’s eyes.
“Just watch me, baby,” he murmured.
His tone and the crescendo of the music sunk all the way into my veins
and set my skin on fire. Soon, the dance floor receded to just us. Even when
Luca moved behind me and we walked diagonally one way, and then back,
I flowed with him seamlessly. We spun around, fluid like water, and when
he lifted me up and then lowered me into a dip, I trusted him not to let me
fall.
He pulled me back into an embrace and we continued to spin, our gazes
locked on each other, while we traced the floor with our steps. My
confidence grew, and when I hooked my leg over his thigh and he back-
stepped, dragging me along with my legs spread, the dance became a
sensual expression between lovers. An ode to our passion. When the music
faded and stopped, we stood there, breathless for a few beats.
His head lowered to meet mine, nose to nose. “You were magnificent,
tesoro.”
 “So were you.”
“You want to try the others?” he asked.
“Sure.”
He grinned, knowing as much as I did we were testing our limits. We
flitted from one dance platform to another. Each dance was foreplay that
tuned our awareness for each other to a peak.
It was close to midnight when I fell into Luca’s arms in surrender. “I
can’t feel my feet.”
“I’ll massage them for you when we get home.”
His hair was unkempt, and it made him look less like a polished Lucifer
in a tuxedo, more like a mortal man.
A big fat drop of rain fell on my cheek. “Uh-oh,” I said. “Party’s over.”
And true to my words, the big fat drops turned into a downpour. “Come
on.” Luca hurriedly shed his jacket and put it over me while we zigzagged
through the crowd, rounding the rec center, and then raced for our SUV. We
were laughing and soaked by the time we reached the Audi. He lifted me in,
then hurried around to slide into the driver’s side.
The moment he closed his door, the laughter died on our lips and
tension pulled our gazes together.
We crashed into each other, our lips locking and devouring. His fingers
dug into my hair as he angled my head so he could go deeper. He made an
impatient sound and broke the kiss.
I was dazed and wet and aroused.
“This is a bad place to do this,” he growled, firing the engine. “Now it’s
a madhouse to get out.”
My hand went between my legs. My pussy was pulsing with need and
my whole body was in a weird state of shivering because I was wet but
fevered because I very much wanted to fuck.
“Do not make yourself come,” he warned.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter
Thirty-Eight

L uca

“Every one of your orgasms is mine, capisce?”

I’d been hard all night. But I had masochistic tendencies when it came
to Natalya. It had been a torturous week and I couldn’t count the times I
used my hand to get relief. But no more. I was going to sink into her tight,
wet pussy and pound into her until I had my fill.
She exhaled a ragged breath with a shiver.
“You cold?” Frowning, I pulled out of the parking space, mindful of
people, and then turned on the heat in the SUV.
“I don’t know whether I’m cold or hot,” she responded. “I did like the
heat of your body, though. You’re steaming.”
“You’re not helping, tesoro.” I finally got the SUV back on the road.
Thank fuck, the house wasn’t too far away. The windshield wipers were
going at top speed as the crowd scattered and vehicles honked.
The traffic was slow going, and I managed a glance at her. “You have
no idea how much I want to taste that sweet pussy. You were hot all over
my thigh tonight.”
She gave a secretive smile. “I was.”
“If only the people around us knew how much I wanted to toss up those
skirts and push my tongue inside your wet cunt.”
“Not helping, Luca,” she whined, her hand going back between her
thighs. “I love your crude mouth.”
“You’re going to love it some more.” I grabbed her wrist. “Stop that.”
 “I’m about to explode,” she breathed.
“You,” I gritted. “Will explode on my mouth.” I let go of her wrist and
gripped the steering wheel with both hands. The urge to thrust my fingers
into her was so strong, that was the only restraint I could think of.
Fortunately, the cars started moving. The rain lessened to a steady drum
around us.
“What a perfect ending with the rain,” Natalya said when we got clear
of the clusterfuck after the festival. Most of the vehicles were heading the
opposite direction. Thank fuck.
It was dark on our way back and I couldn’t see her expression, but I
could imagine a happy gleam in her eyes from her voice.
“It’s only going to get more perfect.”
“How so, sir?”
My dick twitched at the sass. I was hard as a rock and I couldn’t wait to
lay her bare to my eyes. It was a need two years in the making. When I saw
the gravel driveway, I almost wept with relief. My foot rode the gas and the
back tires kicked up pebbles. We bounced on the uneven road and that
didn’t help the images of bouncing in my mind.
“The last time I fucked you was when you were pregnant.” My voice
was strained.
“God, that would mean that was also the last time I had a cock inside
me,” she whispered, her tone bemused.
“And my cock is all you’re going to have,” I told her. If the thought of
Bailey’s mouth on her made me want to kill the man, I couldn’t imagine if
they had fucked.
The Audi screeched in front of the garage.
“You’re not parking it inside?”
I switched off the engine and glanced at her. “No one is around for
miles, and I’ve had this fantasy of you all night.”
Her throat bobbed. “What fantasy?”
I flashed her a grin and exited the vehicle. I looked down at my shoes. I
flicked a finger on my nose and cast Natalya a quick glance. I could feel her
eyes on me, apprehensive. Meanwhile, every molecule in my body was
roaring for release.
Soon, cocksuckers.
I would be balls deep inside my wife.
 Fuck, the thought almost made me come. I should have beat one out
earlier tonight.
I stared at Natalya through the windshield.
Her eyes were so wary, it almost made me laugh. But that would defeat
the whole purpose and destroy the mood.
I opened the door, but before she could get down. I stopped her.
“What…?”
“Brace, baby.”
My fingers grabbed her outside thighs and quickly spun her in her seat
so both legs were facing me.
“Luca…” she whimpered.
“My tongue aches to lick that pretty pussy, baby.” My fingers went
beneath her skirt and sought the heat that had been driving me crazy all
night. When I touched her molten center, she made a sound at the back of
her throat, almost like a suppressed sob.
I leaned my head closer as my fingers circled her clit. It felt swollen,
and I could almost feel its throbbing. But was it the blood pounding in my
ears? “Are you aching here?”
“Yes,” she gasped.
My control snapped. I yanked her ass forward, and she fell against the
seat. Spreading her thighs apart, I dove in and the smell of her drove me
feral. I pushed the thin scrap of fabric aside and thrust my tongue into her
hole, scooping all her wetness before dragging my tongue up her pink flesh,
fastening around her swollen clit, and sucked.
She screamed and clawed at my hair.
I poured two years of need in the way I attacked her pussy with my
mouth. Lick, flick, suck. I added my fingers, feeling those muscles inside
her clench around me. Checking on her, I saw she was panting hard, but
when she noticed I had stopped, she looked at me.
“Why did you stop?”
While my fingers continued to finger-fuck her, I leaned over her to give
her a taste of herself in a deep, searing kiss, then I resumed eating her out.
Fuck, I needed this. She squirmed in the seat, and I had only noticed
how those fucking pointy heels were digging into my sides, probably
making me bleed. But did I care? No. It wasn’t the first time I fucked her
and bled all over her.
 My mouth was exactly where it wanted to be. On her pussy with my
tongue inside it. After the initial attack, I licked her more slowly, up and
down her wet slit, and then nibbled at the tender flesh between the juncture
of her thigh.
My cock pulsed behind my pants.
I dragged her to a sitting position like she was a rag doll.
“Luca…I want more.”
“I know, baby. Wrap your arms around my neck.” She did as she was
told. I bumped the car door closed. I marched with her wrapped around me
and went to the garage keypad and entered the code.
The gates opened.
The second we entered the house, Natalya gripped my face and kissed
me. Her need shouted for mine. I spun us around so she was against the
wall. But we kissed and kissed. We kissed away the years and the heartache,
the sorrow and the grief. We kissed away the time we would never get back,
but as my tongue devoured hers, I could only taste hope.
When we broke apart, I went for her panties while she went for my
buckle.
“Tesoro,” I gritted, flicking her hands away. “Let me do this.”
I stripped away her panties and got them off one foot, but I was already
surging up and lifting her against the wall. “Inside. I need inside you. Right
now.”
Once my cock was out, I wasted no time thrusting inside her. We both
yelled at the same time, from the emotion, from the intensity, from the
significance of the moment. We kept still, joined, and stared at each other.
“Are you going to move?” she gasped.
“I’m afraid it’s going to be over too fast.” My voice was ragged with the
mix of yearning and lust. I dropped my forehead to hers. “I’m afraid this
isn’t real and you’re still gone. I don’t want it to be over too fast because
I’ve waited so long for this moment.”
I withdrew slightly, and the pleasure almost blinded me. “My God. I
haven’t tasted this pussy in years, haven’t been inside you for two fucking
years.” Madness rampaged inside me with those thoughts. She must have
felt it too, because she stiffened.
“I’m here now, Luca.” She cupped my jaw as if to tame a wild beast.
“I’m real and here to stay.”
 I thrust back inside her and ground against her clit, making her cry out
again. “You promise?” I growled against her lips.
“Yes, yes,” she chanted. “That feels so good, ahhhh.”
Unleashing all, I pounded into her in brutal upthrusts. With one hand, I
ripped the dress’s neckline off and exposed her tits right at my mouth level.
I sucked and bit and grazed her nipple. Her inner muscles continued to
clench around me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought about
consequences, but at that moment, I didn’t care.
I needed more inside her and snatched her from the wall. With my
hands supporting her ass and still connected, I walked to the bedroom and
crashed on the mattress. My cock went deeper and Natalya moaned loudly.
Her pussy had my dick in a death grip, my balls were drawn up. One
more…I had to…
“Natalya.” Her name was three syllables of choked emotions. “I love
you so much, tesoro. Please say you still love me.” I felt every word of my
tortured whisper. I had never begged anyone to love me. But I would beg
her until the end of time and I had my wife’s love again. One I hoped to
deserve with this second chance.
Her eyes glazed with tears. “Caro, I still love you…so so much.”
Relief and exhilaration merged into one joy-filled exhale. Since Natalya
returned, I’d been living my life with a death sentence, waiting for my heart
to be ripped out in punishment for my sins during our marriage. My mouth
crashed on hers for one last kiss.
I pounded deep this time and didn’t stop. Tingles shot up my spine, heat
gripped my balls and I emptied inside her in one final thrust. I continued
moving and shuddering at the same time. The edges of my vision dimmed
with the intense pleasure ratcheting inside me. One explosive moment and I
was putty in her hands. I collapsed on top of her. At her distressed sound, I
rolled over, trying to catch my breath.
Natalya rolled into me and put her hand over my heart.
“We need to get out of these wet clothes.” I managed a rough chuckle.
“You feel so warm,” she protested.
“I don’t want you to get sick, baby.” The top of the blankets was damp.
I removed the dress I’d torn and put her under the comforter. “I promised
you a foot massage.”
“I’m going to fall asleep,” she mumbled.
“Be right back.”
Natalya

When Luca returned, I didn’t want to get out from under the blankets.
“Come on, baby, time to get you into the bath.”
“Do I have to?” I whined.
“You don’t have to do anything.” His voice came to me in the darkness.
Strong arms scooped and lifted my body. If there was one thing I couldn’t
fault with Luca, he took care of me toward the end of my pregnancy. I’d
been a cynic too, thinking that it was all because he wanted me to have a
healthy baby, and didn’t equate it as caring toward a wife. In retrospect, his
actions made sense. I didn’t hallucinate the love in his eyes during those
unguarded moments. He’d just been fighting it. He felt safe to show his
caring behind the walls of his expectations. Did that erase what he had
done? No. But I loved him enough to give him a second chance.
And after seeing what he had in store for me in the bathroom, tears of
happiness pricked my eyes.
“Oh, Luca.” My voice warbled as emotions fought against the words.
In the dim light and against the white marble and gold accents, candles
of different sizes were lit. Bouquets of peonies scattered around the
bathroom, with petals scattered around the tiles and on the water.
“I was lucky that besides rose petals, peonies worked too,” he said,
voice soft, but its effect was loud and clear where it mattered. My heart was
bursting with love for this man who considered himself a villain, but he had
journeyed to become my hero. He walked us to the bathtub and lowered me
into the warm water. I sighed when my feet touched the therapeutic bath.
“I can’t believe you did all this.” My voice came out gushy and I didn’t
care.
He smiled wryly, getting into the opposite end of the tub and
immediately picked up my foot and massaged its sole. My eyes rolled back
at the pleasure and I moaned. “Oh my God, that’s almost like an orgasm.”
The massage stopped. “I’m offended, tesoro.”
A languid smile of surrender curved my mouth. “Don’t be. This has
been one of the best nights of my life.”
 He looked thoughtful. “I have to confess I had help from my sister and
niece. These were delivered when you were taking a nap.”
“I enjoy subterfuge in case you forgot.”
He continued massaging my foot, sliding those powerful hands along
my calf muscles. If I were Mrs. B, I would be purring right now.
“About that. No more secrets, capisce?”
“Okay,” I mumbled.
“We have more to discuss, but let’s enjoy tonight.”
He picked up my other foot.
“I’m all yours, caro,” I murmured happily.
I must have fallen asleep in the bathtub because when I woke up it was
to the shrill ring of Luca’s phone.
He was wrapped around me, and my back was sweaty when he moved
away. The mattress shifted under his weight.
“Moretti. This better—” He cut off.
My spine stiffened.
“When?” His growl was grittier, having just woken up.
I was wide awake now.
I sat up and looked at him. “What is it?” My thoughts went to Elias. My
heart pounded erratically. Even though my son was protected by what could
be deemed as Fort Knox, I felt antsy that we were not there. There was no
guilt though because Luca and I needed this trip to sort out our relationship
so we could become better parents.
“Okay, talk to you in a few hours.”
Luca ended the call and switched on the night lamp, turning to me.
“That was Dario,” he said, his voice grim. “Orlov knows about the
money.”
I bit my lower lip. “The money I took?”
“Yeah. And he wants it back.”

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 Chapter
Thirty-Nine

L uca

“I don’t appreciate being blindsided again, Luca,” Ange said on our video
conference call with Dario.
“I told you Natalya got her memory back.” My brother was still
annoyed I took off for New York without telling him. Admittedly,
hierarchy-wise, I should have told Ange because he was the underboss, but
it wasn’t as if I left no one in charge. Dom told me Ange had complained to
him. I would have put a stop to that shit, but Dom said it was more like an
uncle-nephew conversation. I called bullshit.
“But not that she had Orlov’s money all along!” Ange snapped. “We’ve
been negotiating with this prick’s demands for almost a year, and your wife
could have saved us all that trouble.”
“What are his demands now?” I asked.
“Either we give him the money or Natalya works for him on a few
jobs,” Ange said.
“I’ll talk to Natalya about the former, but fuck working for him.” The
thought of Orlov having any conversation with my wife made me want to
smash something. For the first time, I understood Vincenzo’s act of
suppressing Natalya’s genius. If the wrong organization got hold of Natalya,
they could exploit her skills against her will. Well, good thing she married
me. I would die to protect her. “I don’t want him to have any control over
my wife.”
“I told him as much,” Dario said. “He gave another option.”
 “Really?” I quirked a brow. “What?”
“The Game of Bosses.”
I didn’t answer for a while. I wasn’t in top shape. The last one I
competed in, I had to prepare for months. Orlov’s skill level was unknown,
and I was also four years older than him.
“That’s an option.”
“No,” Ange growled. “He’ll use that as an excuse to kill you.”
“Didn’t you suggest it the last time we talked?”
“I was joking. I didn’t think you’d do it. And there was an extra week to
prepare if you did.”
“You have no faith in me, brother?” Ange was probably right. But what
was the other option? I doubt Natalya wanted to give the money back.
Come to think of it, I didn’t want her to give it back because that would
mean all we’d gone through for the past two years would have been for
nothing.
“Ask Natalya for the money. If she really loves you, she’ll return it.”
“Love doesn’t work that way.” I spoke the words easily, and I surprised
myself, and apparently, my brother and Dario too, judging from the way
their brows shot to their hairlines.
“Oh, you’re an expert now?” Ange scoffed.
“Love doesn’t work that way because you don’t ask the person you love
to give up her integrity.”
“She’s a daughter of the Galluzo. She should know better.”
“She’s a Moretti. We never make money off that shit.”
“This conversation is going nowhere. We’ll talk when you get back to
Chicago.” Ange cut off his feed, leaving Dario and me on the call.
“What do you think?” I asked him.
“Ange underestimates you,” Dario said. “Didn’t you just kick Bailey’s
ass? That was with no practice.”
“I doubt that man ever stepped into a cage,” I said quietly, thoughtfully.
“How many weeks is it to the fight?”
“Three.”
Fuck.
That was cutting it close. And I wasn’t sure what shape I was in.
Double fuck.
“Absolutely not, Luca. You’re not going to fight in a death match.”
My wife’s eyes flashed at me in fury. She was magnificent. She’d also
been pissed at me since we returned from Montauk. Dom and a convoy of
De Lucci soldiers escorted us back to Manhattan. My nephew raised the
alert just in case a faction of the Russian mafia in New York thought that
ambushing us or snatching my wife to curry favor with Orlov was a good
idea.
We were at Sera and Matteo’s apartment on Fifth Avenue where we
were staying overnight before our flight back to Chicago.
Dom called a family meeting and not the mafia family. In the living
room were Sera, Carlotta, and Natalya. Elias was at her feet playing toy
trucks with Gio, both kids oblivious to the uproar in the Moretti family.
Dom was standing beside his dad, Paulie.
“It’s not a death match.” I was sitting on a lone couch with an ankle
crossed over a knee in a very nonchalant posture. I didn’t want my wife to
worry. I’d worry about it later.
“I’ll return the money,” Natalya said.
I raised a brow. “You’d do that for me?”
“Of course! You’re my husband and I love you.”
She said that too quickly. My eyes narrowed. “There’s a catch.”
My wife waved a hand. “I’ll just steal it again and not get caught.”
Paulie, Dom, and Sera laughed. Carlotta made the sign of the cross and
said, “My dear sister-in-law, what you’re doing is admirable, but that’s not
going to appease my brother.”
“Nor the Russians,” I said. “Orlov’s going to make you swear to stop
stealing from him, and you’ll have to comply.”
“Honor among thieves,” Paulie muttered.
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll return it and that’ll be that,” she said, but by the mutinous set
of her jaw, I didn’t trust her. She’d probably do it and tell me later.
“There’s still a catch.”
All through our exchange our spectators’ eyes bounced from my wife to
me, and everyone except Carlotta seemed to find it amusing. That sister of
mine had the least sense of humor. It was odd that she married the light-
hearted Paulie, whose brother, Cesar, was the broody De Lucci and Sera’s
father-in-law. Both men had been my mentors when Chicago branched out
heavily into real estate. We were one big happy fucking family in more
ways than one. But now, more than ever, I was glad they had our backs
while things in Chicago were brewing.
“Not really. As long as you don’t tell me to stop hacking human
traffickers.”
“You’re upsetting the balance in the underworld, baby.”
Dom and Paulie were nodding vigorously. “You tell him, Natalya.”
“What’s the matter with you two?” Carlotta snapped at her son and
husband. “We’re supposed to be discouraging Luca from getting his ass
kicked.”
“You and Ange,” I tsked. “Always thinking that I have no chance
against the Russian.”
“They’re known for their stringent training,” my sister pointed out.
That was true. Dario kept me updated on the movements of our key
opponents and allies. Orlov was a gym rat and had put on stacks of muscles
in recent years. That could work to my advantage because that meant he
wasn’t as quick.
“Yet I beat Orlov ten years ago.”
“You trained for three months,” Sera said. “And you were younger.”
“Age and training aside, the more I think about it, the more I want to get
this over and done with. Orlov is going to bring up the rematch every time
we have to negotiate a deal. It would get Koshkin off my back too since I’m
sure he’ll be whining to Koshkin that my wife stole his money.”
“I talked to Koshkin,” Dom said. “He’s finding it amusing that Natalya
was the one who stole the money, but as head of the Moscow Cadre,
Koshkin has to go with what Orlov decides. Human trafficking is still a part
of their business.”
“And Koshkin and I have an understanding,” I countered. “I do not tell
them how to run their business as long as their shit doesn’t touch Chicago.”
I speared a look at my wife. “But if they target you, all bets are off. It’s
going to be war. I don’t care if it’s against Koshkin.”
“You can use the Game of Bosses to make your demands,” Dom said.
“So far the chatter on the Dark Web is that Chicago was responsible for
thwarting Orlov’s human trafficking business, but there are no details that it
was Natalya.” Dom looked at my wife. “Orlov himself wouldn’t want to
make it known that his operations were easily infiltrated by hackers. How
old were you then?”
 “I just turned twenty-two when I interfered in his arrangement with
Santino,” Natalya said. “But there’s more to it.” She clamped her mouth in
a thin line and I knew she was uncomfortable talking about her associates.
Dom flicked his gaze to me, and I gave a shake of my head. He didn’t
know that Natalya belonged to a network of hackers who targeted human
traffickers. Natalya also hadn’t been able to contact Doriana. The encrypted
channel she shared with her had been deactivated. There was also this other
hacker who she’d been online with the night she was taken. She was
hesitant to dig deeper, and I didn’t press her. Her self-confidence had taken
a beating, knowing that she’d been careless and compromised her partners.
“Orlov has yet to contact me directly, but I’m not a fan of waiting
around.” I glanced at Natalya. “You might as well accompany me to
Chicago.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter
Forty

N atalya

“Doriana is dead.”
I stared at the private message from The Friar who now had a new code
name Dead Poet. I wasn’t sure if I was communicating with the same
hacker, just as he wasn’t sure I was the same Chimera from two years ago.
I’d taken all precautions when I’d logged back into the Dark Web, this time
with a foolproof infrastructure that Luca’s formidable IT department had
vetted.
Dead_Poet: The compromise came from her end. She’d never recovered
from the Santino leak.
Mrs_B’s revenge: Yet she continued to hand us jobs.
Dead_Poet: I suspect one of her sources had been playing her. Using
her. I thought at first it was you.
Mrs_B’s revenge: You still don’t trust me, do you?
Dead_Poet: No.
Mrs_B’s revenge: Fair enough. So it’s on me to decide where to
distribute the money.
Dead_Poet: Yeah. I already unloaded mine.

I didn’t answer him. And our cursors sat blinking for a while. I didn’t know
if I was going to join another vigilante network on the Dark Web.
Organized crime was getting way too savvy with their own army of
hackers. I wasn’t invincible as I had thought before. Oh, the hubris of
youth.

Mrs_B’s revenge: I guess this is it.

Dead_Poet: Yeah. Good luck.

I backed out of the chatroom before he did and unplugged the extra
appliance to quarantine any attempts to introduce malware. We hadn’t
exposed our true enemy, but Luca and I had our suspicions. For Luca, it had
been since I disappeared, while I’d only drawn mine from the last week
since I regained my memory.
Carmine.
It broke my heart. He’d been my confidant since I’d been a teenager.
Luca confessed he used Carmine to find out how to manipulate me, and
I admitted how Carmine had played mind games with me. It was all about
control. Everyone underestimated him, thinking he was weak when he was
a master chess player.
He had also gone missing.
Which was why Papà and Mamma couldn’t come over. It was another
blow to the leadership of the Galluzo mafia and it was about to fall apart,
which could mean a bloody war.
This was what Luca was trying to avoid on top of talking to Orlov.
My husband was in meetings, and my son was sleeping peacefully
beside me. We returned to Chicago this morning. It was the first time I’d
been to Luca’s penthouse. It took up an entire floor of the M condominium
in Lincoln Park. It was one of the many properties of the Chicago crime
family and the security was top-notch. Ange and Dario had apartments
below us.
Gingerly, I left the bed because it took Elias a while to fall asleep since
he kept looking for Gio. Sera and Matteo and the rest of the De Luccis
would be in Chicago for the match if Luca accepted Orlov’s challenge.
I stared at the Chicago skyline and wondered if Luca was right all along
that Tralestelle was where it was better to raise a family. That would depend
on how solid his relationship was going to be with Ange. Now, more than
ever, Luca needed a strong underboss.
 I checked the time on the clock by the nightstand. It was half past
midnight. Luca had been gone for three hours and I could only pray that
cooler heads would prevail.

Luca

“You’re a grandstander as much as I am, Moretti.” Orlov smirked at me

from his seat in the conference room. “Gladiators originated in Rome.”
“A slight correction,” Dario said. “It originated from the Etruscans,
which make them still Italian. They held fights at funerals of noblemen.”
“Whose funeral are we talking about?” I asked dryly.
“Your father-in-law’s, perhaps?” Orlov taunted me before turning to
Umberto “Berto” Pirelli, who Vincenzo tapped to take over after Carmine
flew the coop. The Galluzo mafia experienced a series of bad luck that
unfortunately started when Sera turned down the arranged marriage with
Santino. It put me in a difficult position, but I wouldn’t have met Natalya. I
wouldn’t have Elias. Fate worked in mysterious ways, but I hated to leave
things to fate when the future of my family was at stake. I wanted to ensure
their safety.
“Vincenzo and I have an understanding. We will put our
misunderstanding behind us. He was ill-advised by his inner circle and
Carmine.” Berto looked at me. He was too scholarly looking to be the boss
of his clan, but I underestimated my wife, and the deadliest enforcers I
knew were low-key. “And I hope you will back my bid for underboss,
Moretti.”
“We will discuss after this.” I looked at Dario, who nodded tightly. My
consigliere had more personal stakes in this.
In the room with us was Orlov, two of his brigadiers—the equivalent of
our capos, and his adviser. Berto made the trip with two of his soldiers who
were not allowed in the room. As my guest, I extended him the protection
of Chicago. Dario was on my right and Ange was on my left.
This was an unprecedented sit-down with complicated issues because it
involved the daughter of the Galluzo who was my wife. The power shift of
the Galluzo affected their relationship with both Orlov and my organization.
 “Natalya is not returning your money,” I told Orlov in measured tones
that left no doubt there was no negotiation. “We will be turning it over to
organizations that help human trafficking victims.”
Orlov gave a bitter laugh. “You’re such a Boy Scout. You get married
and surrender your balls to your wife?”
I shrugged. “She takes good care of them. You should take a wife
sometime and maybe you wouldn’t need to spend two hours a day in the
gym.”
Orlov’s eyes narrowed into malicious slits. “You’re having me
watched.”
“As if you’re not doing the same.”
“Is that why you hide in your mansion? You’re afraid I will spy on
you?”
“Not at all. I’m tired of the city.”
“Or you’re enjoying fatherhood too much,” one of Orlov’s brigadiers
said.
My hand automatically sought the place on my body where a gun would
have been. Fortunately for the fucker, we agreed to check our weapons at
the door because tempers were bound to fray and killing each other was not
in everyone’s best interest.
“Refrain from any reference to my son,” I spoke evenly. “You might not
make it home tonight.”
“He threatens me, Orlov,” the man sputtered.
“Then stop acting like an idiot,” Orlov said sharply. “That is why I offer
the Game of Bosses. Natalya Conte Moretti threatened my organization
first.”
“We do this, my wife is a clean slate to you. You will also tell us who
gave her up.”
“I’m rethinking this,” the Russian muttered. “What do I really get out of
this deal? I lose my leverage over you.”
“I don’t like people having leverage over me. My wife and son’s safety
are my priority. If I do not extract this promise from you to leave her alone,
we go to war.” I looked at Berto. “You will back me on this if you want my
influence for underboss. Your organization is at a critical point. If it falls,
then ruthless clans will take over. You need to restore the balance and I
could help you.” I turned my attention back to Orlov. “I’ll meet you in a
rematch.”
 Orlov stroked his blond goatee and didn’t respond immediately, but I
was used to his methods. He was trying to keep me on edge, but what he
didn’t know was I had already made up my mind. Protect Natalya at all
costs. The Russian knew I had the support of New York. Koshkin was
neutral because the Game of Bosses was his baby, and Moscow made the
most money.
Finally, he said, “You know, with your wife’s skills we can make a lot of
money…cryptocurrency—”
“Find your own hacker—”
“And marry her?” Orlov raised a brow.
“Do we have a deal, Orlov?” I enunciated each word.
“Fine.”
I stood up immediately to signal the end of the meeting. There was one
other issue I needed to clear up within my organization without the
Russians in the room.
Orlov and his brigadiers walked over to me, and we shook hands.
When the Russians left, Ange closed the door. My brother wasn’t happy.
Despite the grudge he held when he expected to be named boss, politics still
wasn’t his domain and he preferred the streets.
The immediate problem was between Dario and Berto.
Right now, they were eyeing each other like opponents in a coliseum.
The reason I manipulated Vincenzo to reject Berto’s bid for underboss
in favor of Carmine was because his father was responsible for the death of
Dario’s own. That was twenty years ago when there was bad blood between
Chicago and the Galluzo.
I didn’t have a chance to discuss this with Dario before Berto showed
up.
Just as well. I hated repeating myself.
“Gentlemen.” I gestured for them to sit. Ange kept his position at the
door to keep an eye on the two. Sometimes I felt guilty for doubting my
brother’s loyalty. His loyalty would always be for the good of the Chicago
crime family. Now that I had Natalya back in my arms, I could see past my
resentment. Ange and I balanced each other out.
Dario’s jaw was clenched. He was feeling murderous to be in the same
room as his sworn enemy.
“My apologies, Dario, for not discussing with you sooner. There was
not enough time,” I said.
 “My apologies, too,” Berto said. “Vincenzo also extends his. We realize
my appearance here was sudden.”
“You shouldn’t have kept Carmine’s disappearance a secret for three
days,” Dario gritted. “My sources say he’d been acting panicked since the
news of Natalya’s return reached them.”
“That won’t happen again.”
“Before you promise that.” I looked at my consigliere. “Do we have a
problem with this new leadership, Dario?”
“I don’t have a choice, do I?” Dario said sarcastically. “We should have
followed our instincts before and let the Galluzo self-destruct in their
problems.” He let out a sigh. “But I’ve grown fond of Natalya and do not
wish to see her legacy destroyed.” He looked at me. “You have my
support.” And then at Berto. “Let’s not let the sins of the father be visited
upon the sons.” He stood and extended his arm.
Berto also stood, and both men shook hands.
Ange and I looked at each other, our faces barely changing expressions,
but the atmosphere of relief cleared the air in the room.
Now to get ready for the games.
Fuck me.

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 Chapter
Forty-One

N atalya

My husband was fucking hot.

Sweaty, muscles bunched, eyes glinting with killer instinct.
He was sparring with Ange on the mat. Apparently, they grew up doing
this. This was a familiar scene from what I’d witnessed from my father’s
men back home. Most of them thought they would be a Don Corleone one
day and the The Godfather movies became their creed, but for the mafiosi
interested in mixed martial arts and the allure of underground fighting,
Bruce Lee was their idol.
Ange was built more powerfully, but Luca was faster. They’d been
trading hits and kicks for the past half hour until Luca executed a spinning
back kick. It struck Ange’s jaw so hard I heard a cringe-inducing thwack.
The blow sent Ange to his knees, and his mouthguard went flying.
“Madone!” Dario called a break. “Enough!”
Luca smiled, his lips more puffy than usual with the mouthguard. When
he held out a hand to Ange, his brother swatted it away.
Uh-oh.
Luca made a “what the hell” gesture and said something to his brother
before he held out his hand again. This time Ange accepted the help. I
couldn’t see his expression, but his body language indicated he’d accepted
the hand-up grudgingly. When Luca hauled his brother to his feet, they
exchanged quick hugs, but the way my husband clasped Ange’s neck with
an equally swift neck squeeze made my heart clench.
 Dario told me they hadn’t sparred in years since Luca took over as boss.
Both kept in shape separately.
It was week two of Luca’s training, and what a revelation. Because I’d
seen Luca mostly in elegant threads, no way did I picture him as this brutal
fighter. What happened with Brad was a mere blip of what Luca could do,
especially when up against an opponent like Ange. Since they’d fought
before, they were familiar with each other’s strengths and weaknesses.
Luca came off the mat and stalked toward me. From the gleam in his
eyes, I was his new prey, and my lady parts pulsed with excitement. I was
already wet from all his grunting during practice. Another benefit of
fighting was the adrenaline and being the recipient of the excess aggression.
Sadly, we had to pick up my parents from the airport and that was why
Elias was with me. Besides, Luca was at the beginning of his two-week sex
moratorium.
He stepped straight into me and gave me a kiss. Heat radiated off him.
“Papà, up!” Elias chirped.
“Later, sport.” He ruffled his hair. “I need to shower.”
While waiting for Luca, I chatted with Dario. Around five minutes into
our conversation, Tony walked into the gym and headed straight for Dario
to whisper something into his ear.
They excused themselves and left me and Elias standing there.
“We go?” my son asked, pouting.
I led him to the dumbbell area so he would have something to occupy
his mind, but I was getting impatient. Good thing Luca appeared.
“You’re by yourself?” he asked. There were employees and mafia
soldiers working out around the gym but my husband didn’t seem pleased.
“Where’s Dario?”
Before I could answer him, the man in question returned with Tony.
The expression on their faces made me uneasy.
“Detective Voss is in the lobby,” Dario said. “Ange had been giving him
the runaround for the past week, but he refused to leave this time. He must
have followed you to this building.”
“Who’s Detective Voss?” I asked.
“He’s the detective on your case.” Luca checked his watch. “We’re
going to be late if we chat with him.”
“We can leave through the basement,” Tony suggested.
 “Do you want to show your face to the detective?” Luca asked me. “We
can decide when to bring him up to speed.”
“Will I get in trouble for the hacking?”
“I doubt it, baby. The money was illegal, but seeing you will give the
detective a bone to chew on,” Luca said with derision. “Make him feel like
he’s making progress.”
“He’s just doing his job,” I told my husband.
Luca gave me a long look. “We need to talk about your allegiances,
tesoro. That detective wants nothing more than to put me away.”
Dario said, “Should we rethink letting Natalya meet the detective?”
Annoyed at the men, I went over to Elias and picked up his hand.
“Come on. The sooner we get this over with, the better. Tony, you can bring
the vehicle to the entrance of the building.”
Startled that I made the call, Tony’s eyes darted to Luca. “Boss?”
“You heard her.” Luca put his hand on the small of my back and led me
into the elevator. I watched our reflections on the stainless-steel doors. Luca
would steal glances at me, but I compressed my lips to keep from speaking.
He’d just have to trust me how to handle the detective and I was glad he
didn’t countermand what I told Tony. If we were going to work as a couple,
he should trust me to do the right thing as his wife.
I heard more than a few exhales in the elevator. Particularly, Dario’s.
Because he was Luca’s adviser and this was a significant moment where my
husband didn’t defer to his suggestion.
When the elevator reached the lobby and we stepped out, I immediately
clocked the detective. He reminded me of the hard-boiled investigators of
noir films. Sort of like Humphrey Bogart with a craggy face that couldn’t be
described as handsome or attractive, but he still had presence. He rose from
the couched seating in front of the reception. Mafia soldiers patrolled the
lobby along with security contractors.
His rough face softened with a smile directed at me. “Mrs. Moretti.” He
approached us and we stopped a foot from each other. “Detective Terry
Voss. I’m so glad to see you’re all right. I heard about your amnesia.”
Ange had already briefed the LEOs about the reason for my long
absence. We shook hands, and before Luca could cut in, I said, “As you can
see, I’m perfectly fine, but you caught us at a bad time. I’m sure we can
arrange a meeting later?” I gave the practiced smile that Mamma always
insisted I use in public. Not too wide and no teeth.
 The detective scratched his jaw. “I have new information.”
“You know who took my wife?” Luca asked.
“We’ve established that outliers of both Orlov’s and your organization
had planned it,” Detective Voss said. “All those men disappeared.” The
detective’s eyes bore into Luca, and I feared Dario was correct and that we
should have prepared better and had gotten our stories straight. “We’ve
found remains that could be one of them.”
Luca tensed. “Who?”
“I can’t talk about an ongoing investigation.”
Dario cut in, “We’re done here. I know you have to take Mrs. Moretti’s
statement at some point. We’ll contact you.”
“Wanna go.” Elias rubbed his eyes and was making a fuss. There was no
better time for him to be on the brink of a tantrum.
Luca picked up our son. “We’re going, sport.”
“I’m sorry, but we really have to go,” I told the detective.
“That’s fine.” Voss smiled in a way that put me on edge. He handed me
a card. “Give me a call anytime.”
We headed for the door. And it could be my imagination that my
husband’s strides quickened more than usual, like he couldn’t get us away
fast enough from the detective.
Detective Voss called behind us. “By the way…”
Luca stopped right before the doors of the building, but he didn’t turn
around, and merely cocked his head to the left, waiting for Voss to say
something.
“Have you heard anything interesting about that abandoned building at
Bromley Industrial Park?”
My husband turned and shrugged. “There are several in that area.”
The detective walked up to us. Luca was relaxed, but tension pinged
between the two, reminding me of gunslingers at high noon.
He stopped in front of us, the same distance as before, and that was
when I realized he wanted to be far enough to see everything and everyone
around him. “Just wondering if you heard anything unusual. Vehicles that
belonged to some of your associates have been seen in that area.” The
detective tipped an imaginary fedora. “Thanks for your time.”
He left the building ahead of us.
Luca lost his relaxed demeanor and cursed, “Fuck!”
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 Chapter
Forty-Two

L uca

“Porca puttana!”
Natalya glanced at me sharply. She’d already scolded me about cussing
so much in front of our son, especially when Elias just repeated the word
fuck after me.
“He could be bluffing,” Dario said.
He could be right. The body they had found couldn’t be from our
handiwork.
We were in the three-vehicle Escalade convoy on the way to pick up
Natalya’s parents. Dario was supposed to ride in the other SUV, but we
needed to discuss this.
“Would someone please explain to me what this is all about?” my wife
asked.
“We do our interrogations in one of those buildings’ basements.” I
ground my molars. Interrogation was a euphemism, but my meaning was
not lost on Natalya. The building in question was under a shell company
that no way in hell a Chicago PD detective could trace back to us.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “Have you used it recently?”
“No, and neither has Ange. It was heavily used immediately after your
disappearance.” I had blocked what I had done to protect my son’s
innocence, but the darkness was lurking at the edges of consciousness. “We
did things, Natalya, I don’t care to repeat to you, but it was necessary to
eliminate the rats in our organization.”
 “Could be a relative who squealed to the police,” Tony, who was our
driver, said.
“Text Ange. Make sure he hasn’t used that basement in the last six
months.” After each interrogation, the basement was thoroughly bleached.
But forensics could use reagents like luminol to revive the DNA in blood.
Still, the efficacy faded with time. Two years was a lot of time. My lungs
loosened with relief, but not enough because I was worried for my brother.
“But why bring it up now?” Natalya asked. “And they said they
discovered a body.”
“Could be one of Orlov’s,” I told her. “There’s no way it would be one
of ours.” Because we used an incinerator, but I didn’t have to give my wife
that detail either.
“I’m sorry if I messed up,” Natalya whispered.
My gaze whipped to her, and I gathered her left hand in mine. “No,
tesoro. You did great. And it’s good we’re aware that the detective has this
information. We have our own informants in the Chicago PD.”
“I texted one of them just now,” Dario said. “He can meet me after his
shift. That would be after we pick up Vincenzo and Elena.”
“I don’t want you to worry,” I told Natalya gently. “Just focus on your
parents, capisce?”

When we met Vincenzo and Elena at the Moretti hangar, I wished I could
send them back to Italy. Or maybe I could tell the immigration agent who
met us there to tell them that their passports were denied entry. I nearly
yanked Natalya behind me when the excitement on Elena’s face turned to
horror.
Her first words to her daughter were, “Cara mia, your hair!”
But if there was one thing I’d learned about Natalya, she’d gained a lot
of confidence since her time away from me. I hated that I wasn’t the one
who helped her grow, but took pride that she outwitted us all with her
intelligence.
I couldn’t see my wife’s expression, but at least Vincenzo engulfed his
daughter in a hug that spoke of the lost years and the depth of grief that we
experienced. There were tears in her father’s eyes, and I took solace in
them. Elena followed her husband’s lead and filled her eyes with the
requisite tears, and it made me despise her more.
Natalya

“Oh, bambolina,” my father cried as he swept me into those arms that

comforted me as a child. The familiar scent of his cigar, and that spicy
cologne, was a memory that existed during my amnesia. My reaction to my
mother troubled me. There was something akin to hatred. I despised her for
suppressing my growth through guilt.
My father pulled away and gripped both my cheeks, giving it an
emotional squeeze. “I thought you were dead, and we had a funeral for
you.”
A ghost walked over my grave.
Mamma made the sign of the cross. “We didn’t want your soul to rot in
purgatory.”
Fuck you, Mamma.
I concentrated on Papà’s round face. His hair had grown whiter, and it
pained me to see all the stress catch up with him. But I wasn’t his innocent
daughter anymore. I’d been on the other side of the law, even Luca
temporarily questioned whose side I was on. I was a vigilante, and with my
self-revelations today, I had to make sure I could live in the world where the
two men I loved existed. On my terms.
“That’s such a flattering welcome from you, Elena.” The icy tone of my
husband wasn’t lost on anyone.
Luckily, Elias was done being ignored and pulled away from Luca’s
hand. “Nonno! Nonno!”
“Here’s my bombolino.” Papà proudly lifted my son. “You are so big
already.”
“Strong too!” My son showed his biceps and looked at Luca. “Like
Papà.”
A familiar fear gripped my heart, but my husband put his arm around
me, giving my shoulder a squeeze. Reminding me that my father was not
going to take our son away anymore. It was like reprocessing all these
emotions again, and I was glad Luca was at my side while I did this. I was
feeling more secure in his love.
 When we returned to the M building, we put our parents in a unit three
floors down from the penthouse. As usual, my mother complained. My
father had pulled Luca away to discuss his new underboss, leaving me with
Mamma.
“This is not the way to treat your parents.” Mamma sniffed, looking
around the apartment that had an amazing view of the Chicago skyline. “We
should be staying with you in the penthouse.”
“Luca and I want privacy.”
“For what?”
Lord, please give me patience. “We just found each other again.”
“Didn’t you two go away to the Hamptons?”
I didn’t correct her on the exact location. It wouldn’t have mattered to
Mamma, and she would have waved her hand in an impatient gesture.
“After spending over two years apart, we’re just only becoming a family.
I’m a different person.”
She looked me up and down. “And is this different person going to wear
jeans and a T-shirt to dinner, or is this your way to spite me?”
“Mamma, what is really wrong with you?” I snapped. “You can’t be
happy that your daughter is alive? Or are you blaming me for the constant
hiding you and Papà had to go through because of the turmoil the Galluzo
keeps going through?”
“I don’t believe your amnesia is real.” Her proclamation caught me off
guard. “I think you just wanted to escape your life with Luca.”
“You think I would leave my son?” I whispered, my voice hoarse,
because a pain in my chest that had planted itself since childhood grew so
big, I thought I would throw up.
“You’ve always been selfish.”
“Are we referring to that time you had your heart attack?”
“What else?” she flared. “Do you know how depressed I’ve been? How
I lived in fear that I was going to get another one.”
“And you still blame me…”
“It was always your fault.” With a huff, she yanked out the last of her
clothes to hang in the closet.
Meanwhile, I stood frozen. I’d always been her punching bag. My heart
cried for the girl who had never experienced a mother’s love. Elias’s whole
life flashed before me and I knew deep in my heart with a mother’s instinct
that I would never speak such venom to my son. Standing there as I took in
Mamma’s petulance, I understood that not all people were meant to be
parents, and especially not Elena Conte.
With that last thought, the last thread of my mother’s control over me
frayed and snapped.
“I need to check on dinner.” I didn’t. Martha had it under control, but I
wasn’t going to be Mamma’s punching bag anymore. “I’ll send Tony to get
you or just get on the elevator. You can’t miss the button for the penthouse.”
“Why I never…”
I didn’t wait for Mamma’s tirade about why I was the worst daughter
ever born and left the room, running into Papà and Luca.
Luca saw my face and his own grew scary.
“What did Elena say now?” Papà sighed. It was just words, and he
wasn’t going to say anything to my mother. I understood his stance because
if he defended me, then Mamma would bring up a litany of his
shortcomings as a husband and Papà was allergic to that conversation.
“The usual.” I kissed his cheek and didn’t explain any further and he
seemed okay with the response, but not my husband.
Luca stopped me from leaving. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” I stared at the entrance to the room where Papà had disappeared
before lifting my gaze to his. “I’m finally freaking okay with all this. Since
you’re here, I won’t send Tony down to escort them.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
I nodded briefly. Though I didn’t want Luca fighting my battles, I
couldn’t deny him the satisfaction. It didn’t escape my notice that he was
hanging on by his own thread. And I might have a tiny bit of satisfaction
about what was about to happen.

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 Chapter
Forty-Three

L uca

“What did my daughter complain about now?”

My shoe barely stepped into the room before this poor excuse of a
mother went on a tirade.
“Elena.” Vincenzo’s face was red. “Enough. We just got Natalya back.
Can’t we just be thankful for that?”
Her mother put a hand over her chest, panting. “I’m having a hard time
breathing. Can you get my blood pressure monitor, Vincenzo?”
This manipulative bitch. “Stop, Vincenzo.”
Horrified, Elena looked at me, but Natalya’s father did as I ordered. He
knew his wife was faking it. If there was something Carmine had hinted at,
it was Elena’s tendency to use her health to manipulate the people around
her. I’d checked on their medical records recently and Elena was healthier
than her husband with acceptable blood pressure levels. I wouldn’t even
care if she dropped dead at my feet. It might save us a bunch of headaches.
Vincenzo, in the meantime, was more at risk, and knowing Natalya had
genuine love for her father, I felt the need to protect him more.
I advanced on her. Her eyes widened. Even Vincenzo held out an arm.
“Now look here, Moretti.”
I pointed a finger at Conte to silence him. I owned his balls, what with
Berto and me on better terms than he was with his underboss. Vincenzo was
a mere figurehead.
 “Listen up, Elena. Be thankful you’re here and not hiding in some
shithole in Italy because Berto and I negotiated your travel,” I gritted. “But
I will not tolerate you insulting or belittling my wife, capisce? While you’re
under our roof, and our guests, I do not want to see a single frown line on
my wife’s face because of you. I would prefer if you not talk to her. But if
you can act like a mother who actually cares that her daughter is alive, care
that you have a daughter who fights for what’s right and uses her God-given
talent to do so, then start groveling now. God knows she deserves a better
mother.” Vincenzo did not escape my anger. “A better father. I still don’t
understand how you’re not proud of what she has done and accomplished.”
“It was for her protection,” Vincenzo said. “We panicked when she
hacked into her school. My advisers said it was not good to have a daughter
with that skill because our enemies might exploit her, and we couldn’t find
a suitable match for her. You know how most of these bosses have egos.”
“Can’t say I don’t have an ego, but I would be proud to have a wife who
can outwit me.”
“You’re of the new breed of bosses, Moretti.”
“I did tell Natalya we need more women in our ranks because men are
idiots. But that’s not the point I’m making. I don’t want Natalya to feel
insecure in her own home.” My ire at Elena rose again. “If I hear a single
word criticizing my wife of anything—and I mean anything—I’m sending
both of you packing for Italy and leaving Berto to deal with you.”
“How dare you—”
“Shut up, Elena,” Vincenzo snapped. “You’ve done enough.”
Natalya’s father walked up to me with a solemn expression. He gripped
my jaw and gave me a kiss on both cheeks. His eyes were suspiciously
glassy. “Thank you for being a good husband to Natalya. I may not have
been the best father, but”—he pounded his chest—“it feels good here,
knowing if I die, she is in good hands.”
Vincenzo had the inclination for theatrics, but I could see the sincerity
in his eyes.
“We’ll see you upstairs.” I cleared my throat and turned around. I
proceeded down the hallway, clenching and unclenching my fists, not
realizing how if Elena continued to run her mouth, the desire to strangle her
would be there.
When the elevator doors slid open, Ange was about to step out. He
moved aside to let me in and punched the button for the penthouse.
 “Natalya sent me to rescue Elena from you.”
A grin touched my mouth. “She did, did she?”
“Elena is a piece of work.”
“Being married to a man with too much power will do that to you,” I
said. When we reached the penthouse, I saw Natalya with Martha. They
finished setting the table. Tony was the one watching over Elias. They were
in front of the television watching cartoons of a certain type I believed were
meant more for the likes of Tony.
My wife gave me a brief glance, and I gave her a reassuring one that
communicated I hadn’t murdered her mother yet.
“Come on, sport, you shouldn’t be watching that.”
“Stewie!” My son chortled. I glanced at Tony. “No evening cartoons.”
“Elias likes Stewie.”
“I heard him swear in the last episode,” I muttered.
Tony laughed. “Elias already said the F word in the car.”
“I still need to get on you about that, Luca,” Natalya called from the
kitchen.
“Thanks for reminding my wife.”
“Don’t worry, boss, they cut out the good stuff on this channel.”
It was apparent, curbing the cursing with Elias was a losing battle given
Tony was his constant companion. He had genuine affection for my son,
which went a long way in my trust. Swear words aside.
When I went into the kitchen, I told Natalya, “All the cursing out of
Elias’s mouth is Tony’s fault.”
She and Martha exchanged glances and shook their heads in what I
could only describe as resignation.
The study was at the end of the west hallway. When I first married
Natalya and when I was in Chicago, I only used the penthouse for crashing.
Most of our meetings were in the evenings at clubs or restaurants. I wasn’t
lying to Natalya that it was useless to play house with me and she was
already pregnant then. I’d since changed my routine. I left Ange to handle
the street business, and I rarely entered clubs anymore.
We were doing less and earning more, taking advantage of technology.
That was the smart shift in our operations.
“Where’s Dario?” I asked.
“He’s meeting his contact with the Chicago PD right now,” Ange said.
“I’d say Voss is bluffing. I sent one of the capos and his crew to go over
every surface with luminol. We can change the flooring and paint the walls
if you want, but it would be weirder if we have construction vans over there
with no permits.”
“Does it need any cosmetic repairs?”
“Nah, we just changed that shit five years ago. We were able to sneak
things in.”
“And we don’t want to do it now when there are eyes on us.” I walked
to the end of the study, where I had the corner view of Lincoln Park. “Voss
wants to rattle us. I bet he paid a visit to Orlov too.”
“Speaking of our Russian friend, he’s taking this tournament seriously.”
I turned away from the window and took a seat behind my desk.
Opening the drawer, I pulled out the bottle of special whiskey. I tipped my
chin to where the glasses were. “What’s Orlov up to? Living in the gym?”
Ange slid a glass to me. I filled his and then mine. “Salute.”
My brother took a measured sip before saying, “No, he’s trying to trim
down.”
I quirked a brow. “Really?” I swirled the amber liquid in my glass.
“He knows you’re faster.” Ange chuckled, fished out his phone, and
swiped it to the photo app. “Forgot to send these to you. This is from our
guy watching him.”
“What the hell?” I had a good chuckle. It was several pics and videos of
Orlov with an entourage of trainers running alongside him like he was
competing for a world-boxing heavyweight title.
“What are the odds now?” I asked.
“He’s still the underdog, three to one.”
“Hmm…that’s a lot of pressure.”
“That came from Koshkin’s camp,” Ange said. “You know how the
Russians are. They’ll swing the odds in their favor.”
“Maybe we should bet on Orlov, then.”
Ange grinned. He knew members of the administration of both camps
were forbidden to bet on the Orlov-Moretti matchup. The soldiers could,
though.
“You’re evenly matched. It could go either way. Your southpaw was a
well-kept secret ten years ago. No one knew how powerful your left hook
was back then, but I see you’ve developed quite a back kick.” My brother
leaned forward. “We still have to work on your ground game. If Orlov pins
you to the mat, you’re in trouble. He still outweighs you by thirty pounds.
And if those biceps wrap around your neck.”
“Game over.”
“Not exactly.” Ange’s grin grew wider. “We can work on that too.”
“In other words, you’re going to enjoy knocking me out in the next two
weeks,” I said dryly.
My brother’s face took on an evil expression that had me rethinking our
training sessions.

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 Chapter
Forty-Four

L uca

It was fight day, and I hated everyone. Which was ironic as fuck because
the penthouse was full of people. Sera and Matteo flew in this morning with
Dom and Carlotta. The rest of the De Luccis were staying in New York
because of a big fight that would determine the leadership of the Rossi
crime family.
The Game of Bosses was one of the biggest underworld events in recent
history ever since the pay-per-view matches became popular. Europe had
more matches than the U.S. where the games were only supposed to be in
Las Vegas and New York. With my acceptance of Orlov’s challenge, the
basement of Skyland Towers had been converted into an underground
fighting arena.
I was relieved we weren’t fighting over concrete flooring which was the
norm in illegal matches. Egotistical and high-maintenance bosses had its
perks. The day before, Ange and I had stopped training and visited the site.
Our crew and my IT team had monitored the installation. Orlov had sent his
own men as well.
A rap on the door drew my attention. Dom stepped in. “What are you
doing holed up in here?”
“Do you think I enjoy hearing how people are betting that Orlov will
win?” I snapped.
Dom laughed. The fucker.
 He closed the door and walked up to the oak desk. “You shouldn’t take
it personally. The odds are against him. They make more money that way.”
“If. He. Wins,” I said. “I have no intention of losing, so why even risk
it?” When Dom couldn’t stop laughing, I asked, “Who did you bet on?”
My nephew laughed harder and I could only sit and stew and glare at
him. When he finally stopped to say something, there were tears in his eyes.
“Do you really want me to answer that? I’m rooting for you to win, Zio, but
it’s much more fun to bet on the underdog.”
“You have no loyalty.”
“It’s a bet. Nothing personal.”
“It’s feeling very personal.”
“If it makes you feel better, Sera put her money on you. She also made
Matteo promise to bet on you.”
“See, now there’s loyalty.”
“Aw, come on, Zio. It’s just a game.”
I did see the humor in this. It didn’t mean I had to make him feel good
about betting against his own blood.
I rose from my chair and walked over to my nephew. He eyed me
warily, but his mouth was twitching.
I leaned into him. “Watch me hold a grudge.”
He patted my back. “But you love me. Come on. Join the fun.”

The smell in the kitchen of toasting garlic bread made my mouth water. If I
hadn’t been on a regimented diet in the past three weeks, the craving
wouldn’t be this bad. Carlotta’s recipe of beef lasagna had always been my
favorite and I made fucking sure Natalya saved me a piece or two for after
the fight.
“The secret is in the béchamel,” Carlotta said. She was teaching Natalya
how to make it. “And use fresh sausages.”
“She knows that, Lottie.” I walked into the kitchen.
“Hey, Zio.” Sera had both elbows on the counter.
“You’re learning too?” I asked my niece.
“No. Matteo knows how to make it. I just eat.”
“She’s waiting for the first bite,” Carlotta said.
Martha came over with bread. “You hungry?”
I shrugged. “I could eat, but you know, no bread until after the fight.”
 Natalya moved to my side and clasped my hand, lifting her mouth for a
kiss. I gave her a quick one. It was all I could do not to haul her into our
bedroom and fuck her.
“I’ll get your meal number three,” she said with all sweetness.
“I can do it myself.”
“Talk to your sister and niece,” she said. “You haven’t spent enough
time together. And we transferred your food to the utility room after our
groceries this morning.” Her voice faded as she left the kitchen.
“So.” Carlotta put the lasagna in the oven. “I noticed Elena isn’t that
chatty.”
“What was that?” I cupped my ear mockingly. “Did you say catty?”
Martha shook her head with a hidden smile and returned to her spot of
chopping vegetables.
“Ah, Luca, fratello mio.” My sister made a soundless laugh. Her chest
shook with it. “She’s your mother-in-law. Make nice.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You haven’t met one like
Elena.” I looked over my shoulder at the living room, where most of the
men were watching a UFC fight. My mother-in-law was looking after Elias
and seemed to be content enough.
“I’m so lucky with mine,” Sera said dreamily.
“Hey, I would make a good mother-in-law,” Carlotta said. “If my
children ever get their act together and—”
“He’s too busy being boss and Lucia is too busy breaking hearts,” I said.
“Look at me. I wouldn’t be married if Sera didn’t jilt—”
“There was no jilting done,” my niece snapped at me.
We continued arguing. It was much like the old times and I realized how
much I missed this part of the family. Lottie didn’t get along with Emilio’s
third wife and rarely visited. Our age gap was twenty years, and she’d been
more mothering than a typical sibling. Sera was more like a sister to me
than a niece. Hell, I was only four years older than Dom.
“What’s the holdup with the food?” Ange came into the kitchen.
Martha approached our group bearing a platter. “These wings are fresh
out of the air fryer.”
My brother made a face. “Eh, what happened to frying it in real oil?”
“So Luca can also eat,” Martha said.
“Here, caro.” Natalya returned with my lunch of sweet potato and
grilled chicken. I’d leaned up and packed on muscle in the past three weeks.
Ange was of the opinion I should have put on more fat for padding, but hell,
I wasn’t a wrestler and I preferred staying lean for the fight, so I depended
on Dom for meal plan advice since the De Luccis owned a boxing gym.
“What’s with all this babying of Luca?” Ange scoffed.
“He is our baby brother.” Carlotta stood beside me and ruffled my hair.
“And it’s his big day.”
“Eat it up, Zio.” Dom laughed, coming up beside my brother. I wasn’t
sure if he meant all the mothering or the food.
“Are you going to help warm me up later?” I asked my nephew.
“Matteo and I are coming.” Dom picked up a wing and did fancy
footwork shit.
“We’re going to meet you at the venue,” Sera said. “The girls are going
to have their hair and makeup done. Dom’s crew will be with us.”
“It’s a basement fight,” I reminded them.
“A high-class basement fight…” Dom said. “Just like the movies.”

Hours later, I was sick of warming up.

“Remind me never to sign up for one of these again.”
Dom left the gym to take a call and left Matteo to keep me moving.
“It’s not working.” Sera’s husband was holding the warm-up mitts. He
was talking to Ange who was sitting on the bench watching us. The chicken
wings gave my brother acid-reflux, so it had been left to Dom and Matteo to
get me through the drills. “He’s still thinking about the fight.”
“Of course I’m thinking about the fight. It’s in an hour,” I muttered.
“Give me rapid punches,” Matteo ordered.
“You’re supposed to warm me up, not wear me out.” I lowered my
arms. “I’m done.”
Ange laughed. “Maybe you should meditate.”
I glared at my brother. “Does it look like I fucking meditate?”
“Bruce Lee did.” Matteo joined Ange on the bench. “And he’s the father
of mixed martial arts.”
“I bet you Orlov does it,” Ange mused. “We should have kept track of
things he’s been doing other than training.”
“What? Check for his aura?” I scoffed.
“Yeah, your chakras don’t seem aligned,” Matteo said.
“Fuck you, De Lucci. What the fuck do you know about fucking
chakras?”
 He and Ange burst out laughing and high-fived. “Yep, his aggression is
peaking.”
I blew out a breath and shook my head. “You’re supposed to keep me
aggressive, not give me a stroke by annoying me to death.”
The door slammed open and a grim-looking Dom walked into the room,
followed by soldiers from both our families, including my two capos.
He stopped before me. “We have a problem.”
Ange and Matteo got up slowly from their seats.
“What? Don’t tell me Orlov is backing out?”
“No. Someone took Natalya.”

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 Chapter
Forty-Five

L uca

“How the fuck did this happen?” I snarled, grabbing Dom’s collar. “They
were your soldiers.”
“Let’s calm down.” His face shut down into a stoic mask.
I let him go and turned to Ange. “Where’s Dario?”
The name of my consigliere barely left my mouth when he entered the
facility and hustled across the gym. He had my phone and had been
screening my calls, so I could concentrate on the fight.
“You have a message.”
It was from an unknown number that asked me to call back. “Can you
track Natalya?” I asked.
“She’s not wearing any trackers right now,” Dario said.
“Have you asked for the footage from the salon the girls went to?” Ange
asked Dom.
“The camera is broken.”
“All right.” My head spun with possibilities. “Everyone out except Dom
and Ange and Dario.” I looked at Matteo. “You can stay.”
My whole body surged with adrenaline. I was so pumped, it was a
wonder the phone didn’t crack when Dario handed it to me. My fingers
were rubbery when I handled the device and I was all thumbs when I
clicked the return call.
The phone rang twice before a familiar voice answered.
“Moretti.”
 Carmine. “What the fuck did you do to Natalya?”
“She’s fine. She just needs to help me win some money.”
“I want to talk to her.”
“In a moment. I need some things to be clear to you first.”
“You want me to throw the fight?” That was the first thing that came to
me because Ange and I discussed this. Natalya was already free from Orlov
when I agreed to the fight. There was no stopping us from using another
entity to bet on the underdog and make us a lot of money.
“The odds are now five to one,” Carmine said. “News has spread how
much you and your brother have been training and you are going to kick
Orlov’s ass, so it’s important that Natalya’s kidnapping should be kept a
secret.”
I glanced at Dom, and he nodded. “Everyone’s on gag order.”
Dario said he also issued that directive.
“And if I throw the fight? How will I know you won’t hurt Natalya out
of spite?”
“You won’t.”
“I want to see her or I’m not doing this. Call me back with video.”
I ended the call. The urge to hurl the phone against the wall was
overwhelming. Rage was running a heated circuit through my body. I
wasn’t sure if I could control it and not kill Orlov by accident.
“Whose suggestion was it to go to the salon?” I asked.
The men looked at each other.
Matteo stepped forward. “I only heard Sera mention it. She said Natalya
was feeling sorry for her mother and wanted to do something nice for her.”
“Dario, confiscate Elena’s phone and check all her messages.” When
my consigliere hadn’t moved a single muscle, I snarled, “Now!”
He bowed his head and excused himself from the huddle. I checked my
phone, willing it to ring. I was about to punch the number again, thinking
that Carmine’s pride was getting the better of him because I ended the call
abruptly when it rang with an incoming video call.
Carmine’s face filled the screen.
“Where the fuck is Natalya?”
“Luca!” a voice cried.
“Natalya.”
“Never. Hang up. On me. Again,” Carmine said coldly.
 It took tremendous effort not to spew every derogative name at him. I
thought my jaw would crack when I spoke in a calm and respectful tone.
“Natalya, per favore.”
“Much better.”
When my wife’s face filled the screen, my knees nearly buckled with
relief. It was enough that she was alive for now. “Baby, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She sniffed. “I can’t believe my cousin would do this.”
“He’s not your cousin.”
“I’m sorry you have to throw the fight for me.”
I froze. I hadn’t agreed to it. And this was not the fierce Natalya I knew.
I swallowed. “I’ll do anything for you, tesoro. You know this, right?”
“I know,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, Luca.”
Carmine’s face filled the screen again. “There. You have proof of life.
Now win me my money. And don’t do it too quickly. It needs to look real.
End it in the fourth round.”
“What if Orlov kicks my ass and does it in the first round?”
“You’re stronger than that. Otherwise, they’ll know you threw the
fight.”
“One more thing, Carmine. Hurt her and I will make it my mission to
hunt you down and make sure your death is slow. There’s no place on this
earth you can hide, capisce?”
His smile was full of mockery, and this time, I let him end the call.

Natalya

“I want you to transfer half the money to these and divide the rest between
these bets.” Carmine pointed to the screen in front of me.
My stomach knotted in anxiety, not sure if we could pull this off, but I
had enough proof that we could. Carmine had changed in the past two
years. Physically, his face had acquired lines of ruthlessness I had not seen
before, or maybe it was a mask the whole time. I saw him now as a weasel
hell-bent on his long con and plan for revenge. No trace remained of the
young man who’d been sympathetic to an introverted fourteen-year-old girl.
He was a man who had a terrible start in life, and Papà, who believed in
him, gave him the opportunity to lead the Galluzo as underboss. The
betrayal hurt deeper than I first expected, but I had two weeks to get used to
it. To build my hatred for what he had done and feel no remorse for what I
was about to do.
“Did you hear me?” He tapped impatiently at the back of my chair.
“I heard you,” I replied tonelessly. “Hundred fifty million spread
equally between these numbered accounts. How do you want to place the
bets?”
“Put a hundred on Orlov, and fifty that Luca will lose by the fourth
round.” He chuckled with villainous glee. “Your husband is going to receive
the humiliation of his life.”
Tears pricked my eyes. Hang on, Luca. Just hang on, caro. I will fix
this. I couldn’t remember how many times I tried to talk myself out of this.
The fight and training occupied Luca’s mind, and he didn’t notice my
anxiety. It also helped that Mamma and Papà were here.
As I worked on his money, Carmine continued to rant. “You had to go
and have amnesia and ruin my plans.”
My fingers quit typing on the keyboard. “You cost me two years of my
life I can never get back.” The screen blurred as I remembered Elias’s first
step, of Luca starting to make the turn into putting us first. The image of
baby Elias sleeping on Luca’s chest was imprinted on my mind forever. I
would never get that time back. And that was why I needed to do this.
Carmine spun my chair around. “And it was thirty years of mine. I
deserved everything the Galluzo had to offer, and I almost got it all, but
your husband had to go fall in love with you and fight to keep your son.”
At my blank stare, he sneered. “You were supposed to end up hating
him when you found out that he was giving up Elias to Vincenzo. You were
going to go with your son, divorce his ass, and I would make you my
queen.”
I recoiled from Carmine.
“Oh, don’t give me that look.” He straightened and stepped away from
me in disgust. “You don’t turn me on sexually at all. I would have allowed
you lovers and I would have mine. We would have kept Vincenzo’s legacy
alive. Now the Pirellis are taking over and it’s the end of the Conte line.”
The door opened and a red-haired mercenary walked in. Carmine didn’t
have any mafia soldiers on his payroll. He depended on private military
contractors. They were the ones who took me from the salon.
 “The game is about to start. Are all the bets in?” Red asked.
“Yes, they’re in,” I answered. Carmine was going to ask me anyway. I
angled the screen in his direction, detailing the clear placements of bets.
“Do you mind if I watch in here, sir?” Red asked.
“Sure, why not? You set up the feed.” Carmine took the chair beside me.
“We should have popcorn and champagne, don’t you think?”
By this time, my stomach was a wasteland of bubbling acid, and I didn’t
think I could eat anything, least of all popcorn. Even the water tasted sour
and only aggravated the bile backing up my throat.
With all eyes riveted on the wide screen on the wall, Red pumped up the
volume just as the crowd dressed in suits and cocktail dresses gathered
around the twenty-foot octagon. Composed of associates of the Russian and
Italian mafia, low crisscross fences surrounded the area preventing them
from spilling over. The match was livestreamed globally through a server
controlled by Koshkin and he was predicted to make ten billion dollars
from the Game of Bosses.
Orlov and Luca were the game openers at six p.m., the only slot
available because it was a last-minute addition to the schedule. This served
me well because I couldn’t stand the suspense.
“There will be no introduction of the fighters,” the announcer spoke on
the loudspeaker. “You all know who they are.” Illegal distribution of the
video would be under threat of being hunted down by the Russian mafia,
and since the inception of the games in the nineties, not one fight had been
leaked. At one point, I wondered why they didn’t wear masks, but the
participants were not regular fighters who did this as a living and found the
face cover cumbersome and claustrophobic. The tattoos were a dead
giveaway anyway.
I identified Luca immediately, and my heart skipped, or rather leapt,
extra beats. The filter of the television couldn’t mask the rage on his face.
For those who didn’t know his expressions like I did, that wasn’t stoicism.
When the camera did a close-up, I could see the fire in his eyes. A muscle
was pulsing at his jaw. In his corner were Dom and Ange.
The Russian was more flamboyant, and he was spewing challenges at
Luca.
“This is fun. And to think Orlov didn’t know I was doing him a favor,”
Carmine made commentary.
 Interesting that the referees were the ones wearing masks although it
made sense in a way since vendettas were embedded into the DNA of the
two men meeting on the mat. The fighters met in the center and listened to
the rules. Luca said the rules were just guidelines and kidney punches, eye
gouging, and below-the-belt hits were a matter of honor.
When the players moved away from each other to begin the fight, I was
close to throwing up.
Red glanced back at me, then over at Carmine, before returning his
attention to the screen.
I swallowed, not knowing where to concentrate, but my hand crawled
slowly under the desk where a knife was taped to its underside.
On the screen, the fighters stalked each other and all we could hear was
cheering and yelling.
The Russian struck first. Luca blocked. They started exchanging blows.
Luca was taller and had a longer reach. Orlov looked shorter because he
stacked muscles from the way his neck disappeared. He lunged at Luca,
sending them crashing to the mat.
They grappled around the mat, and Luca threw Orlov off his back and
sprang to his feet.
I kept my eyes on the clock.
When it crossed the three-minute mark, Red pivoted with his gun raised
at Carmine.
Goose bumps erupted all over my skin. Gunfire erupted from outside.
“It’s over, Carmine,” Red said. “We’ve locked your accounts.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“A friend of Doriana’s.”
The Friar, aka Dead Poet.
“That bitch.” Carmine stood slowly. I scooted my chair away from him,
stood, and walked to Red’s side.
“She begged for her life in the end,” Carmine jeered. “If she knew who
you guys were, she would have given you up.” Then he changed tactics.
“We can talk about this. We stand to make half a billion from the games.
Imagine what you can do with it.”
Carmine was a hypocrite. He said he hated human traffickers, and it was
enough we rescued the victims, but he had no problem profiting from the
money that came from it. For him, he felt that was owed to him after what
happened to his mother.
 “Luca will not be humiliated because of you,” I snapped.
The door crashed open. A force knocked me over, and I instinctively
crawled away from the source. Fists and grunts and cursing exploded
behind me. Pain in my scalp made me cry out as I was yanked to my feet
and the cold barrel of a gun poked at my temple.
“I’ll kill her,” Carmine shouted. He backed away with me. Red had
neutralized the mercenary who broke into the room. Another mercenary
named Trevor appeared. He and Red worked together.
“Take it easy,” Red said. “We’re lowering our weapons…see?” He and
Trevor slowly crouched to the floor, but Red’s eyes were level with the
knife I had in my hand. A knife Carmine in his panic didn’t realize I
possessed.
At the minuscule nod from Red, I went limp in Carmine’s arms. My
pulse pounded in my ears, muffling my captor’s shout, I raised my arm and
stabbed his thigh and yanked it upward. No remorse. It was him or me.
“Bitch!” Carmine screamed. We both fell to the floor, but before I could
gather my wits, Red was already hauling me up and into his arms.
“You’re okay, you’re okay.” He was holding my shaking form. More
mercenaries spilled into the room and there were brief status updates. They
were on our side, thank God.
I pushed away from Red. “Luca.”
He grinned. “Let’s get you to your husband.”

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 Chapter
Forty-Six

L uca

I blocked a blow aimed for my head. My brow was already bleeding. The
asshole also tried a series of kidney punches which I deflected. Orlov dove
in with rapid jabs, but I held my arms cocked and protected my head. I
wasn’t going down yet. At the end of the second round, Dom assured me
they’d found Natalya, and he was just waiting for confirmation, but I wasn’t
willing to risk her. Carmine asked for a show. I wasn’t giving it to him.
“What’s the matter with you?” The Russian was getting frustrated. I was
hanging on, letting him stalk me while I danced around the octagon, hardly
going on offense. The crowd was booing me, but I didn’t give a fuck. Our
match wasn’t a judged fight and it depended who got knocked out or pinned
down first. And by the way it was looking, I was the underdog.
“You gone stupid or something?” Orlov snarled, coming at me like a
rabid bulldog.
I absorbed all the insults and the attacks. The effort to hold back was
killing me, but Natalya’s life was the most important because I was afraid if
I let loose on Orlov, I wouldn’t be able to hold back. Even when a second of
doubt entered my head that she was in league with Carmine, I hung on to
my love for her. Love was not a weakness. Love was something I would die
for. I had no pride left. I was willing to be ridiculed because of love.
The referee called the end of round three. When my back was turned,
Orlov lunged at me, spun me around, and punched me across the jaw.
A roar rose in the crowd.
 The blow sent me to the floor, and the side of my head exploded in pain
as it bounced off the mat.
“There,” he spat. “Some excitement, mudak.”
Blood and sweat blurred my vision. Dom and Ange jumped over the
fence into the octagon. I rolled on my back and Dom’s troubled face
appeared above me while Ange confronted Orlov. Shouting ensued, while
more men piled inside the fighting area.
“You okay, Zio?”
“Natalya?” I grunted.
Dom’s face swam in front of me but he appeared to be grinning. “Why
don’t you look?”
I pushed myself up to a sitting position and twisted to my corner. There,
fighting through the crowd, was Natalya. I scampered to my feet.
“You can’t leave the mat!” Dom hauled me back.
“Fuck that.” I shoved him away.
Four arms held me back, including Ange’s. “Don’t forfeit, asshole.
Look. She’s fine.”
“I’m good. Let me go!” When they released me, I rushed to the corner
just as my wife reached the fencing. I hauled her over the barrier and
hugged her fiercely, uncaring if my sweat bled into her, not wanting to let
her go, wanting to leave the fight and just say fuck it to everything. The
fight. The crime family. The prestige and power. I wanted to just take
Natalya and Elias and fucking go.
I gave her a quick, grinding kiss and searched her face. “Are you all
right?”
“Yes!” she shouted. The noise of the crowd became deafening from the
turn of events. “Now go win the fight.”
A different kind of adrenaline mainlined my veins. Killer instinct erased
anxiety, and with it, a future with Natalya was within reach.
Dom clapped my shoulder. “Get back in the fight before they call
forfeit.”
“Fuck that.” I gave Natalya another quick kiss and lifted her over the
barrier, then I turned to meet my opponent head-on.
My skull was throbbing, but I cracked my neck from side to side. When
the referee gave the go-ahead, I stalked toward Orlov.
He came at me swinging. I leaned away from his jab and landed a left
hook. The Russian fell on his ass.
 I could have knocked him out with a roundhouse kick, but I had a spring
in my step, and I owed the crowd a show.
“What the fuck, Luca?” Ange yelled. “Stop horsing around. Finish him
off.”
I did the boxer shuffle and waited for Orlov to get up. His mouth was
bleeding, but I saw the deadly gleam in his eyes. He knew I was back in the
game and he loved it. He faked another jab, then went low, tackling my
torso, lifting me up over his shoulder and slamming me onto the mat. Blood
thundered in my ears, and in slow motion, we grappled for control. He tried
to weigh my thighs down under a massive bicep, and while blocking a blow
to my head, I freed one leg and pinned his neck in a leg lock. That
temporarily gave me control, and I broke free. I rolled to my knees about to
scramble to my feet when he lunged at me, taking me back down to the mat.
He was under me, and with my back to his chest, his legs scissored my
torso as he fought to get his arms around my neck.
The crowd roared. Ange screamed.
And through the pounding in my ears, it was my brother’s voice I heard
in my head.
Respect the choke!
Orlov’s forearm pressed across my throat attempting to cut off my
breath. His other hand was on top of my head, trying to slip it behind my
neck to complete the blood choke. I clawed at that hand and failed. Orlov’s
arms locked my neck between them.
Three seconds to blackout.
“Luca!” Natalya’s scream reached me.
Two seconds. My vision dimmed around the edges. Must not fail.
With oxygen and blood competing in its race for scarcity, my strength
sputtered.
I concentrated all my remaining power to my hands, shoving,
dislodging Orlov’s foot off my torso. Freeing myself from the leg lock, I
shifted my body on instinct and pinned that leg. The whole movement
loosened his chokehold and I didn’t waste time rolling over and slamming
my elbow across his jaw.
Mayhem erupted around us.
“Get the fuck away,” Ange shouted.
Unlike the first time I tried to escape from Orlov’s deadly ground game,
I went on all fours into a turtle position, keeping my limbs tight, head down,
mostly to catch my breath as well as pump back blood and oxygen into my
brain. Those few heartbeats restored clarity and I anticipated his attack.
When his hand touched my side, I spun, twisted, and flipped him over. This
time, I had his waist in a leg lock and crossed my ankles squeezing.
Orlov roared and choked and growled.
He was on top of me, wide open with disbelief on his face. At close
enough range, I delivered two rapid punches to his face and released him.
I scrambled to my feet and bounced away.
Orlov rose unsteadily, swaying, eyes groggy, lips curled back in a snarl.
We squared off. I shifted my cocked arms upwards, and the second his eyes
followed that movement, I spun and back-kicked him on the head, twisting
his body around.
Orlov dropped to the mat.
The referee ran to check on him, but swiftly called a knockout. He
raised my arm as the victor.
It was over.
I faced my corner. Dom, Natalya, and Ange were rushing toward me.
I headed straight for Natalya. She jumped onto me, and I caught her
under her ass while she wrapped her legs around me.
“You won! You won!” she screamed.
The adrenaline and power of the fight thrummed through me. Instead of
lowering my wife, I flipped her over my shoulder. The adrenaline had
sharpened my senses, and I caught sight of someone I hadn’t seen in years,
my mind making rapid-fire connections that my wife had once again used
subterfuge and put her life in jeopardy.
“Luca, where the hell are you going?” Dom yelled.
I could hear Natalya shouting at me. Oh, tesoro, I will deal with you
later. I’m looking forward to it. My eyes focused on the red-haired man
dressed in commando gear, standing at the edge of the crowd looking like
event security, but he wasn’t.
He was smiling at me. The fucker.
I reached him and lowered Natalya.
“Bristow,” I snarled softly.
His smile widened into a shit-eating grin.
I punched him.
“Are you done?” Dom asked while holding an ice pack to his jaw.
I’d punched three people since Orlov.
Dom, Matteo, and Hank Bristow. All three conspired with Natalya to
take down Carmine, who had met his bloody end on the floor of the
building right across from where the fight was held. My wife had severed
his femoral artery. I looked at her now, wearing an oversized sweatshirt—
clothes that weren’t hers, but there was blood spatter on her jeans and the
tip of her sneakers. And she was calm about the kill. She truly was my
queen.
We were back in the penthouse. Natalya was sitting beside Sera, who
was tending to Matteo’s cut lip.
“The shoe isn’t so nice when it’s on the other foot, is it, Zio?” Sera was
pissed at me. “At least we gave Natalya a choice.”
“You asked her to lie to me,” I snapped.
“I wasn’t lying!” Natalya protested, but I speared her a look and she
shut up.
“Are we going to argue omission versus lying?” I cut a glance at
Matteo. That asshole knew what I was talking about. He nearly lost Sera
because of it.
I was breathing hard, and it wasn’t from the fight. It was because my
blood pressure went through the roof again after I discovered what my wife
had done. I hadn’t even come down from my high stemming from the
match, and the adrenaline spiked once more. All eyes watched me like I was
a wild animal on the prowl.
At the penthouse were Dom, Matteo, and Sera. This operation was part
of the Archer Syndicate. It was an organization I’d heard rumors about but
never could confirm its existence. Many times Dom had hinted he wanted
me to be a part of something big, but I’d always declined. Now they’d
dragged Natalya into it, and I had no choice but to listen to their bullshit.
Which wasn’t really bullshit because they kept the underworld in check.
Ange and Dario were both listening with interest. The three of us had
conversations about the organization before that originated with the De
Luccis.
Madone, my niece was married to the head of the Archer Syndicate, and
I must admit, I was fucking proud of her.
I glanced at the person I wanted to tear apart the most. Hank Bristow
was standing beside Trevor, who I knew worked with Matteo and was ex-
military like Bristow.
“Let me get this straight, so you’re involved with the Archers?” I asked
Bristow.
“Doriana’s network tapped their group for extractions,” the ex-Navy
SEAL said. “Carmine killed Doriana two years ago, right around the time of
the mission that exposed Natalya.”
“Tell me now why I shouldn’t kill you for getting my wife in trouble.”
“It wasn’t his fault.” Natalya rose from her seat, and this time she didn’t
quake under my glare. “Carmine had been playing Doriana all along and
was feeding her information about Orlov’s human trafficking operations to
gain her confidence. She suspected she’d been compromised. That’s why
she didn’t want me to transfer the money.”
I wagged my finger between Natalya and Bristow. “And you two were
communicating behind my back?” This was what I couldn’t fathom, and it
pissed me off the most. “We had this understanding after New York, tesoro.
No more secrets.”
She hung her head. “I know, but Detective Voss…”
Dario straightened from where he was enjoying the show. “Detective
Voss? How is he involved?”
“He’s a buddy from my special ops days.” Bristow grinned his
infuriating grin again. I pictured him missing a couple of teeth, courtesy of
my fist. But then I registered what he had said. Dario beat me in voicing the
conclusion.
“That day when he confronted us,” my consigliere said. “He made up
that bullshit, didn’t he? He didn’t have evidence about our activities.” Dario
glanced at Natalya. “He handed you a card.”
My wife looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor. “Yes. It was
a message from Bristow and it’s a way for us to confirm our identities
online since we weren’t trusting each other. I didn’t want to risk it, but they
made me believe they had something on the family.” She squinted her eyes
at Bristow.
“We had to blackmail you somehow to get you to help us take down
Carmine,” Bristow said. “Voss played along and confronted you guys. He
thought it was a brilliant fabrication. Little did he know I wasn’t bluffing.”
Ange came forward. “Are you saying you have proof?”
Bristow handed him a flash drive. “It’s all there. No copies anywhere.
Chicago PD never got their hands on it. Like I was saying, Voss thought I
made it up.”
“It wasn’t blackmail,” Natalya added. “He gave me references to prove
who he was, otherwise I wouldn’t have gone along. Both of you worked a
mission years ago to stop human traffickers in Vegas. And he’s best friends
with your stepsister’s husband. We’re practically family.”
Bristow snorted. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
I wouldn’t go that far either, but Natalya wasn’t far off the mark. And
the reason I hadn’t gone apeshit over this whole operation was because
Bristow belonged to a group that regularly went rogue against red tape and
pulled off miraculous results. In this case, I was the red tape.
“Did you know where Natalya was this whole time?” I asked.
Bristow shook his head. “I tracked her down a few months before you
found her. And by the way, your hackers aren’t that good. I planted those
traffic cam sightings that led you guys to the town of Grafton.” He looked
me directly in the eye. “Just so you know, Carmine was the one who told
Orlov that Natalya had his money. I was already part of his crew of
mercenaries then and Carmine was counting on Orlov to offer up the Game
of Bosses as payback.”
“That’s when he came clean to us that he was The Friar,” Matteo
interjected. “The Archers worked with The Friar often particularly with my
cousin Ronan McGrath who was the only one who knew The Friar’s real
identity. You know the McGraths, right?”
Bristow chuckled. “Of course he does. Luca gatecrashed the McGrath’s
barbecue a couple of years ago.”
I rolled my eyes when everyone started snickering.
“We inserted Trevor as our own man inside so he could communicate
with Dom and ensure Natalya’s safety.” Matteo splayed his hands. “And
that’s how everything went down.”
Surprisingly, I was okay with the high-level information of the op and
didn’t need the nitty-gritty details. Bristow could be a useful associate
because he had legal access to government databases and infrastructure. I
didn’t want to burn any bridges over this. I was opportunistic if anything
and could ask a favor in the future.
I turned to Natalya. “I still don’t understand what happened to you after
Carmine burned the house down.”
She compressed her lips before dipping her chin and shot me a wary
glance beneath her lashes, as though the revelation would make me lose my
shit.
The long seconds that passed only agitated my adrenaline-infused
wrath, but I still gritted, “The truth. All of it.”
“It was sad, really, or maybe it was fortunate…for me at least,” she
started saying. “Carmine entrusted me to the second capo who turned
against you. Then the capo entrusted me to one of his crew. The man felt
sorry for me and took me to the St. Louis women’s shelter. Apparently, it
wasn’t the first time he’d been doing this whenever he felt sorry for women
who’d become victims of violence. I think he was planning to skip town.”
“Russian outliers ambushed this guy,” Ange said. “Remember that
incident, Luca? One of our men was slain on I-55.”
“I remember. That interstate runs straight into St. Louis,” I said grimly.
“So in short, Carmine misplaced you.” I stated it in a deadly calm voice that
was a far cry from everything I was feeling.
Natalya took tentative steps toward me, sensing an impending
explosion. I held up a finger to stop her progress because she wasn’t wrong.
I’d reached a breaking point. Words failed to take form. I had to turn away
from everyone, needing to push down the bubbling rage with alcohol. I
walked to the bar and grabbed the scotch, poured it into a glass, and gulped
it down.
No one said anything.
I poured another drink and stared at the glass. It wasn’t calming me
down.
My jaw clenched. I was done holding it together.
I detonated.
I hurled the glass against the wall. It shattered, and the amber liquid
marred its pristine surface.
Everyone was still quiet.
I stared at the bottle in my hand.
“That’s good scotch,” Ange commented. “It’s better to—”
“Everyone out!” I snarled. “We’re done here.”
Dom approached cautiously. “We still need to discuss—”
“Not tonight. You guys are staying for another few days.” I glared at
Bristow. “If you rope my wife into one of your schemes again…”
“I’ll keep you in the loop.”
Fucker. I tipped my chin in acknowledgement. I wasn’t a total tool. If it
wasn’t for him, we would have never found Natalya.
 My eyes homed in on my wife. She was about to leave with everyone.
“Where are you going?” I barked, stepping in front of her.
“I’m going to get Elias,” she squeaked.
“He’s with your parents and Martha. He’s fine.”
“But…”
“Just you and me tonight, tesoro.” The endearment dripped with
sarcasm. I was still livid about the whole thing. She had the rest of the night
to make it up to me.
I clasped her biceps firmly and kept her to my side.
And as my family congratulated me again on winning the fight, the guys
could barely hide the amusement from their faces. They knew there was
only one thing that would tame the fury. Sera was the last one to say
goodbye and gave me a hug. “You were magnificent tonight, Zio.” Her tone
was full of affection and it reminded me how much I missed her. Then she
looked at Natalya with an impish grin. “Go easy on her. She did badass shit
tonight.” She winked at my wife.
“Don’t encourage her,” I groaned. “And tell Carlotta we won’t be down
for breakfast tomorrow, but we’ll see you in the afternoon.”
Natalya froze. My fingers tightened on her arm.
The elevator doors closed. We stood and stared at it for a while.
Finally, I turned to my wife and said softly, “Run.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter
Forty-Seven

N atalya

“What?”
My panties had been drenched since the fight, and I think I’d been
having mini orgasms ever since. Being plastered to a sweaty, aggressive
male was so arousing, I despaired we couldn’t shake everyone around us.
My husband was annoying because he passed up an opportunity for hot sex
in favor of finding out what happened. But Luca wasn’t ruled by his dick as
he had often informed me. And I should be swooning that his concern for
me came first.
I’d been anxious for everyone to leave, but now that they had, I didn’t
know what to do with the man in front of me.
His whole body said “don’t fuck with me,” yet my body was screaming
“take me, take me.”
Instead of answering, Luca tipped the bottle of scotch to his mouth, all
the while not taking his eyes off me.
His eyes were wild and heated.
Like he wanted to eat me alive.
I backed up a step. I didn’t know what to do. He told me to run.
He lowered the bottle. “I’m giving you a seven-second head start.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “Where will I run to? It’s a big penthouse
but—”
He erased our distance, and his nose touched my neck. He breathed me
in. Then he nuzzled its curve and traced a path to my cheek and inhaled
some more. I spasmed between my legs and grew wetter.
“I smell your arousal. You want to fuck.”
I burst into a brief, nervous giggle. “Isn’t that what you want?”
He backed up a couple of steps. “Yes. But I want to do other things.”
Other things? What other things? He continued to back away until he
was by the wall. His fingers hovered over the light panel of the penthouse.
“Tonight, you made me feel helpless. I just got you back, and then I thought
I lost you and it would have been all my fault. Because of my ambition,
Carmine was still out there.”
“I’m sorry, Luca, but it had to look real and—”
“I understand that.” He cut me off. “A few days from now, I might even
think it was brilliant. But tonight, you’re going to give me back control.”
I swallowed. “What?”
“Your surrender. I don’t want you to give it to me easy. I know I have to
fight for it. That’s the only way to tame the aggression inside me. To be
worth it. You’ll always find a way to defy me if you think it’s for my own
good. It would always drive me crazy, but that’s who you are.” His mouth
tipped derisively. “And I will enjoy it every time I remind you that you are
mine.”
“So, what do we do now?”
His smile was feral. He touched the light controls. I startled when the
penthouse fell into shadows and drew the blinds. The lights of Chicago
peeked through the vertical blinds so we weren’t in total darkness, but
still…
My husband stood motionless, like a predator playing with its prey.
“Run.”
I took another step back, deciding to take the hallway that led to our
bedroom even as arousal twitched wetness between my thighs, and my clit
felt swollen. “Do I hide?”
“Six seconds. Run.”
His last “run” was more forceful, more guttural like he was more beast
than man. It triggered a flight response in me. I spun away from him,
nervous laughter trapped in my chest as my feet began to move, relieved I
was wearing sneakers and in less danger of breaking an ankle.
I ran.
With each step that pounded toward our bedroom, my excitement rose,
my vision became sharper, and my skin burned. There were three rooms in
this section. I bypassed our bedroom and dove into the unused guest room,
knowing that the bathroom was attached to another room. I could escape
from there and loop back through the apartment. At the back of my mind, I
wondered if it was unlocked.
Dammit, why was I so nervous?
My sneakers skidded on the tile, making a cringy loud squeak. I threw
myself on the adjoining door. Locked. Why was it locked? Hysterical
laughter bubbled inside me. This was a stupid game. I ran back into the
bedroom and stopped.
Luca darkened the doorway. The white T-shirt he wore after the fight
was like a beacon in the shadows.
I scrambled around the bed and put it between us.
“This is stupid,” I said, through heavy panting. “I mean, where is there
for me to run? You saw me come into this bedroom.”
“It’s not stupid, because I’m having fun,” he drawled. He took a step
into the room. “Are you afraid of me, Natalya?”
“What? No!”
“Good.” He took another step. “Because I feel this is going to be our
game.”
I focused on his movements more than his words. He was going around
the bed slowly. I could jump over it and escape him and run the length of
the penthouse to the other wing. I laughed lightly. “This cat and mouse?”
“No.” Another step. “That I will always chase you.”
He lunged.
I screamed and jumped over the bed. I was almost at the door when his
arms came around me and lifted me up against his hard body.
“Luca!” I screeched.
He threw us on the bed like he was still in a caged match, stealing the
air from my lungs. Pinning me on the bed, his mouth came crashing down
on me, but the kiss was brief and I lost sight of him because he dragged the
sweatshirt over my head. Then, while straddling my legs, he unbuttoned my
jeans and dragged down the zipper.
“I wish you’d worn a skirt,” he growled.
I pummeled his shoulders. “What? And make it easy for you?”
He had to get off me to remove my jeans, so I twisted around and tried
to leave the bed, pumped and drunk on euphoria and getting into our primal
play. The sudden chill over my ass told me he’d taken off my panties along
with my jeans. By this time, my head and arms were dangling over the edge
of the mattress, but he put an end to my attempts to escape him and hauled
me back onto the bed. I grappled for leverage and pushed up on all fours,
but his mouth hit my pussy, taking broad swipes, sending exquisite pleasure
racing between my legs. His head moved under me and he gripped my
thighs to drag me down.
I was sitting on his face and he continued to eat me like I was his last
meal.
“Oh my God,” I moaned. My clit was so swollen. “Can you breathe
down…”
I didn’t finish the sentence. A growl vibrated at the same time he sucked
my sweet spot and it throbbed with orgasmic pulses. I screamed and
surrendered, pushed against his face, because, oh God, sometimes I felt
murderous toward Luca, but if he wanted to suffocate, then he could do it
while giving me an orgasm.
While I was still reeling from the massive climax, he flipped me over
and drove into me. My body arched. Two weeks of no sex and he was
enormous inside me.
His face appeared, triumphant and vibrating with leashed power. I saw
the split second he lost all restraint. He hooked my legs over his elbows and
spread me wide and rammed into me over and over.
“I love you. I love you,” he chanted, teeth bared, completely feral. He
fucked me forever. He fucked me like he hated me. He fucked me like I was
his whore. Pulling out, he flipped me over again and grabbed my hips,
dragging me to all fours, and slammed back inside me. And this time, he
thrust with abandon. And I reared into him and met him thrust for thrust.
Because despite his roughness, despite the way he dominated me, it gave
me power that I could do this to him and make him lose complete control.
His arm went under me, made me spread my knees further, and then his
fingers circled my already sensitive clit and another blinding orgasm shook
me.
I cried out again, and my breathing became labored. “Luca…enough,
please.”
I was begging, and he was grunting, growling, and guttural. With one
last thrust, he exploded inside me. Slick wet heat made me slicker and
dripped down my legs. He continued pumping as though he hadn’t just
claimed and wrecked my pussy.
 Finally, he folded over me. We collapsed sideways on the mattress, and
while wrapped all around each other, he kept my back plastered to his chest.
“You’re still inside me,” I murmured.
“You feel so good. I think I’ll stay in you for a while,” he returned.
“Don’t move, baby.”
“We’re going to sleep like this?” I laughed into the pillow. “We both
need a shower.” He hadn’t washed off the fight, and I hadn’t washed off the
day either.
He snuggled deeper inside me. “Hmm…we fuck filthy. I love filthy.”
I did too.

Sometime in the early morning, we returned to our bedroom. We showered

and indulged in a bath. Luca made slow love to me afterward, and we fell
asleep. I didn’t know how many times he reached for me in the night, how
many times he cleaned me between my legs, but I gave my husband what
he needed. And he gave me what I craved.
The morning sun was high in the sky when I finally found the strength
to open my eyes. My limbs ached. I was thoroughly loved and satiated.
The bed beside me was empty, and I wondered what time it was. I
padded to the bathroom to freshen up, and I walked out just when the
doorknob was turning.
Elias barreled through and hit my body full force. “Mamma!”
My mouth fell open, and my gaze flew back to the door. Luca was
holding a breakfast tray. “Did you prep him to say that?”
Luca smiled sheepishly. The bruises from the fight were more apparent
this morning. There was a cut on his brow. “It appears I had to make waffles
for him to tell the difference.”
“So what is this, Mr. Moretti? Breakfast in bed?”
“Yes. Why don’t you get back under the covers while your son and I
serve you?”
“Aw.” I did as I was told. Elias crept into the bed at my side while his
father balanced the breakfast tray with my waffles, bacon, and orange juice.
There was even a little glass vase with a daisy in it.
“This is all so sweet, Luca.”
He sat beside us. I cut up the waffles and gave a bite to my son. I
grabbed a piece of bacon and munched on it. I was starving.
“You okay?” Luca brushed my hair aside.
 “I’m fine.” I touched his face. “How about you, caro? Any aches or
pains?”
His mouth twitched. “I should ask you the same.”
I leaned into him. “I’m deliciously sore.”
“Mamma, b-con,” Elias chattered. I handed him a piece, which he put in
his mouth.
“He’s gonna be a big man like his papà when he grows up.” I nudged
Luca. “Where’s everyone?”
“They’re in Sera and Matteo’s unit, having breakfast.”
“Oh my goodness, I feel like a terrible hostess.”
“Stop.” Luca put a finger on my lips. “That’s why I told them we
wouldn’t be seeing them until the afternoon.” He looked at Elias. “I want it
to be just us.” His eyes softened. “The three of us. Elias, do you remember
what I asked you to do?”
I split a look between my boy and Luca. “What are you two up to?”
Elias made a big oh with his mouth as if he remembered something he
forgot. Then he gave a big smile and reached for the end of the tray and
grabbed a folded paper.
He handed it to me.
Curious, I opened it and laughed.
“Will you marry Papà?”
I glanced at Luca. “We’re already married.”
With a gaze too intense for morning breakfast, he picked up my left
hand and ran his thumb over my bare ring finger. “This is telling me we
aren’t.”
I never thought about my rings since I came back, but Luca was still
wearing his.
“I’m going to have new ones made,” he said fiercely. “I want to say my
vows again. Will you marry me again, Natalya?”
I hugged Elias and told his father, “Yes.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Epilogue

T wo months later

Natalya

“What are you doing here?”

My mother’s panicked voice made me smile. I was in the bridal room of
the church near Tralestelle. Unlike the first time we got married, the
renewal of our vows was a smaller affair. More intimate. Before the
ceremony, I escaped into this room because I heard the rumble of thunder. I
wanted to look out the window and watch the storm clouds roll in.
I glanced over my shoulder.
“Relax,” I told her. “My makeup is on point.”
And appearances were all Elena Conte cared about. The relief on her
face was predictable to the point it almost made me laugh. Luca and I had
moved back to Tralestelle soon after his fight in Chicago while we left
Mamma and Papà in the city. They visited us on the weekends, and vice
versa. Whatever Luca told Elena two months ago seemed to stick, but even
without my husband’s help, I could’ve handled Mamma on my own. The
two years I’d spent away from everyone had given me tremendous
confidence I didn’t think I had, and Luca, despite his overprotectiveness, his
belief and pride in me, helped me thrive.
“You look beautiful, Nattie.” The smile on her face was genuine. It was
genuine because it was unfamiliar and it made my heart squeeze for the
young girl who would have appreciated that smile. I quickly dispelled those
feelings because today was not a day for regrets. There was too much joy in
my heart.
“Thank you, Mamma.” She stood behind me and we looked at the full-
length mirror. Unlike my wedding, I wasn’t wearing a voluminous gown. I
was wearing a modern ecru maxidress cut from light crepe fabric. I loved
the one shoulder neckline with feather trim along the cuff of one-sleeve and
its asymmetrical hem, which hit just above the ankles. Apparently, I had a
thing for asymmetrical hems. I thought back to the tango festival, and I
looked forward to dancing at the party.
Mamma brushed at my sleeve, and her eyes dropped to it. “I know you
and I haven’t had a good mother-daughter relationship.” I braced myself for
her next words, but when she lifted her eyes, there was an apology. “You
are smart and beautiful. I was only admired for my looks, and because of
my jealousy, because I wanted to feel better about myself, I became a
terrible mother.”
I didn’t say anything. Now that I had Elias and knew how a mother
should feel, I was done making excuses for her behavior.
She dabbed at her eyes. “Look at me. I’m going to ruin my makeup.”
She exhaled raggedly. “But know, daughter.” She touched her chest. “That
after so many years, I can truly say from the bottom of my heart, that I am
so proud of you.”
Her words were said with all sincerity, and I had no reason to doubt her.
I turned to her. We smiled at each other and hugged.

We emerged from the bridal room to see Luca stalking toward us. His
brows were furrowed and his jaw clenched. My mother froze. She even
stuttered a step and a distressed gasp escaped her lips.
I felt sorry for her. My husband seemed to terrify her with just a look.
But when Luca saw my face, the lines between his brows smoothed and
a sexy smile tugged on his lips.
“There’s my beautiful wife.” He dragged me into his arms. “Are you
ready?”
“I am,” I breathed.
“Good, because our ring bearer is getting impatient.”
I laughed. Sure enough, Elias was getting pouty. Nessa seemed to calm
him. Our son was in a sleek little suit, and I could just see him wear them
like nobody’s business when he grew older. Just like his dad. I looked
forward to those years.
“Mamma. Mamma! Hurry!”
We invited only close family. And I seriously felt close to them after
what we’d been through in the past few months.
Sera, Matteo, Dom, Carlotta, and most of the De Luccis were there.
Ange was in the front row with his daughter and wife, a wife I’d never
met. Apparently, they’d been estranged for a while, but had now
reconnected.
Dario was with a date.
I was glad Martha made it because she was also overseeing the catering
at the house where everyone would celebrate. Of course Tony and Rocco.
Among Luca’s soldiers, they were the ones who I trusted with my family’s
lives.
Luca led me to the top of the aisle with our son in front of us.
Instead of a sea of white roses, variegated colors of peonies filled the
aisles. From scarlet, to coral, to hot pink and white. It symbolized the
colorful life I expected to have with Luca.
Without waiting for the piano to signal the start of our march, Elias
started walking down the aisle.
 Luca and I exchanged a fond shake of our heads and a smile. There was
no question our son was born a leader like his papà.
So we followed his lead.
In front of the priest, with Elias between us, Luca said, “God has given
me this second chance. I’m not wasting it. The past two years only proved
how miserable I was without you. You left me Elias, the only light that
made me hold on through those dark years. I couldn’t imagine another day
without you in my life. Never leave me again, tesoro. I will not survive it.
In front of family and friends, I pledge to put you, Elias, and our future
children first. And from the bottom of my heart that only beats for you, I
vow to cherish, love, and protect you for the rest of my life.”
It wasn’t the words, but the fierceness with how he said them that left
me speechless. They wrapped around my heart with so much love for my
husband.
The church was quiet except for sniffling. I wasn’t the only one affected
by my husband’s vows.
My eyes burned with so many emotions, and my husband’s stormy gaze
packed so much intensity behind his words.
“Luca.” I inhaled raggedly. “I didn’t prepare beautiful vows like yours.”
Everyone laughed.
He caught my hands in his and dragged me closer. “Tell me simply.
That’s all I want to hear.”
“I love you so, so much.” I suppressed a sob. My heart was just
brimming with happiness. “To you and Elias, I promise to be the best wife
and mother.”
“You already are.” And then he kissed me deeply and sweetly.
The priest cleared his throat.
Laughter went around the church again.
“Papà. Papà.” Elias lifted the rings to us.
Luca chuckled and took the new rings from our son, and then he slipped
them on my finger.

Five months later, Paris

Luca

We delayed our second honeymoon. Why? Because my wife loved rain and
December was the rainiest month in Paris.
After standing in line to get ice cream at Berthillon, we were walking
across Pont de la Tournelle, the arched bridge that spanned the width of the
river Seine, when the first raindrop hit my face.
“Oh my goodness,” Natalya breathed. Her expressive brown eyes
danced with excitement. “Not even a full day in Paris and it’s happening.”
We stopped at the center of the bridge and watched the gathering nimbus
cumulus clouds cloak the city in an enchanting gray filter. I was seeing
Paris through the filter of my love for Natalya and couldn’t believe how
love could be so fulfilling once I surrendered to its power.
I’d been an idiot, but I was an idiot no more.
“Rain already.” Natalya’s impatience made me laugh. She gathered her
coat around her. It was nuts to eat a cold treat in forty-five-degree
temperatures, but I couldn’t deny my wife. I went behind her to shield her
from the frosty breeze and keep her warm.
“Baby, eat your ice cream.” It had melted all over her hand. “We’re
staying here for two weeks. Odds are we’ll do it many times.”
“Are we talking about walking in the rain or something else?” She
leaned sideways so she could shoot me that saucy look I’d grown familiar
with, and my own eyes hooded. We were such a combustible pair, and I
liked the games we played in the bedroom. My cock hardened at just the
thought of having her to myself. I loved my son, but it surprised me how
obsessed I was with my wife, and there were times I was jealous of the
attention she gave him.
I grabbed her hand with the cone and licked her ice cream. “That and
something else.”
“Hey, eat your own ice cream.” She glanced at the sky again and a big
drop of rain fell on her face. “Ugh, it’s such a tease.”
“Like you?” I murmured. I turned her around to face me and planted a
kiss on her sweetened lips. She tasted like decadent chocolate and
temptation. I finished my own before the impending rain.
“Well…” Natalya took a sultry swipe of her cone with her tongue.
Yep. Tease.
 “Oh, here it comes.” She finished the rest of her ice cream so fast, I
worried for a second that she was going to get brain freeze or choke.
“Careful, baby, that’s the wrong thing to choke on.”
She rolled her eyes but laughed. Innuendos between us were nothing
new, but it only escalated the sexual tension when we got on the plane to
Paris.
And as the sky finally opened—thank God it wasn’t a washout—the
steady rain slowly fulfilled my wife’s wish of walking in Parisian rain with
her husband.
She lifted on tiptoes and kissed me. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, baby.” I slipped our hands together, and we walked
over the bridge.
“Brrr…it’s getting really cold.”
I put my arm around her. “It is December.”
“What are we going to do when we get back to the duplex?”
“I thought it was obvious.” Depending on what came first, it was either
the hot tub or fucking.
She rolled her eyes again. “Obviously. But after.”
“Whatever you want.”
She snuggled closer to me. “You’re very warm. I can feel your heat
through your trench coat.”
“I aim to please.”
“How about we watch Casablanca?” she suggested.
“It depends. Are you going to ask me a tough question again?”
She laughed into my chest before raising her eyes to mine. “I don’t care
if you’re my hero or villain. I love you just the way you are.”
“That’s good. Because I’m never letting you go.” I leaned over and
kissed her lips. “I love you so much, tesoro.”

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three bonus scenes that include a deleted super spicy scene, Elias’s third
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Nico and Ivy are next in a sizzling enemies-to-lovers romance, Scorned

Love.
Curious about Bristow? Check out my romantic suspense series, Rogue
Protectors.

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 Afterword

Scorned Vows put me through so much emotional stress. Though I love

putting my heroes through the wringer, I hate doing that to the heroine, but I
had to because it was important for readers to experience Natalya’s
heartache. I wanted you all to hate Luca, but not too much that he’s beyond
forgiveness. This book was the hero redemption I wanted to write. The way
I weighed what made a good grovel vs. a bad one was almost a thesis.
Grand gestures or expensive things are cop outs, and what I really wanted
to see was hero karma and his anguish for having caused the heroine pain.
So, yes, there were still grand gestures, but I had to weave in the hero’s
regret at what he had done and led to his changed behavior. Also, the
premise where Natalya got amnesia and the bad memories came back first?
I was cackling and excited about writing Luca’s frustration. Hopefully, I
redeemed him in your eyes. Let me know!
As usual, I had a fantastic team behind me.
Thank you, Becca aka The Fairy Plot Mother. You always asked me the
right questions to fuel my intellection process to solve plot and character
issues. Our weekly calls kept me accountable to reach my internal
deadlines.
Erica of Erica Edits. I love your timely and fabulous edits to my
manuscript and appreciate your professionalism in all things. Your feedback
on my work is always uplifting.
Sue, I don’t know what I would have done without your amazing beta
read. Your eye for detail is amazing and you always go above and beyond. I
know Luca and Natalya caused you a lot of angst, and I’m happy you
powered through the words to witness Luca’s redemption and loved it!
Amy, thank you for going through my pre-edited draft. I love what you
suggested that improved the flow of the plot.
Judy of Judy’s proofreading. Thank you for being my final eyes on the
manuscript!
Mandy, thank you for being a good friend and being a message away. I
know I’ve built up and teased Luca a lot. I hoped he lived up to your
expectations.
To my Very Important Paige readers. Thank you for your support.!
To the amazing world of booktokkers and bookstagrammers. Thank you
for your support of my books and my ever-growing TBR.
And finally, to hubby and my furbaby Loki. Both of you are always so
patient when my mind is in creating worlds and characters. I love you both
to the moon and back.

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 Connect with the Author

Find me at:

Facebook: Victoria Paige Books

Website: victoriapaigebooks.com
Email: [email protected]
FB Reader Group: Very Important Paige readers

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Also by Victoria Paige
Scorned Fate
Scorned Heir
Scorned Vows
Scorned Love (June 2024)

Rogue Protectors
The Ex Assignment
Protector of Convenience
The Boss Assignment
Her Covert Protector
The Wife Assignment
Bristow’s book (October 2024)

Guardians
Fire and Ice
Beneath the Fire (novella)
Silver Fire
Smoke and Shadows

Susan Stoker Special Forces World

Reclaiming Izabel (novella)
Guarding Cindy (novella)
Protecting Stella (novella)

Always
It's Always Been You
Always Been Mine
A Love For Always

Misty Grove
Fighting Chance
Saving Grace
 Unexpected Vows

Standalone
De Lucci’s Obsession
Deadly Obsession
Captive Lies
The Princess and the Mercenary

* All series books can be read as standalone

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