Home > Damage an Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance(30)

Damage an Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance(30)
Author: Natasha Knight

I fold my arms across my chest as I wait for his reply.

“They’re noisy,” he says, walking to the bird cage.

“Let me take them away from here, then.”

Three things surprise me then. The first is that he puts a finger inside the cage. The second is that the female bird goes to him. The third, and most strange, is that when she does, he gently caresses her.

“Did you name them?”

“She’s Marguerite,” I say, walking toward the table. “He’s Mephistopheles.”

Stefan pulls his hand out and looks at me with surprise. “Not Faust?”

“No. Faust loved Marguerite, even if that love was misguided. Mephistopheles represents the devil.” He’s clever enough to get my point. I walk away, out onto the balcony. “And the birds are not in love. She hates him.”

“Dramatic,” he says, joining me outside.

“I have time on my hands to think up the drama. What do you want?”

“The petition was granted. I’m your brother’s legal guardian.”

“Already?”

He nods.

I wonder how much money exchanged hands for that to happen.

“Congratulations,” I say. “One more notch on your side of the who-can-be-a-bigger-asshole column. Does this mean you’re in the lead?”

I see him bite back what he wants to say. His expression doesn’t change, and I get the feeling he may be counting to ten. “Get packed, Gabriela. We’re leaving for New York in a few hours.”

“New York?” I say stupidly. I’m so surprised that it takes me a moment to process it. After that moment, though, surprise morphs into suspicion. “Why?”

“Don’t you want to see Gabe? Celebrate his half-birthday?”

“How do you know about that?”

“Millie overheard you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t I tell you about his half-birthday? Why would I? Why would I tell you anything that matters?”

“Gabriela,” he starts. He reaches out to me but I draw back. He drops his arm and walks to the railing.

I watch him stand there, looking out over the sea, and I think how different this could have been. How different I wish it were.

When he turns to me, his features are schooled. “I thought you might want to bring him here. Would you like that?”

What? He’s asking if I want to bring my brother here?

“Gabe? Bring him here as in Sicily? To live with us?”

He nods.

I’m shocked.

“Why? What game are you playing?”

“I’m not playing any game.”

“How does it benefit you?”

“It doesn’t.”

“Then why? Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re sad and your brother makes you happy.”

Fuck.

Tears burn my eyes and I turn my face away. “Why do you do this?” I ask, unable to keep the quaver from my voice.

He comes to me, stands behind me and puts his hands on the railing on either side of me. He’s so close, I can smell his cologne, the same one he always wears. I can feel the heat of his body. And some part of me, some stupid, masochistic part of me, it wants to lean into him. Wants to lay my head on his shoulder and let him hold me.

“It would be easier if you were just one way,” I say. “I don’t have the strength to keep up with you.” My breath trembles when I draw it in.

He wraps his arms around me and when he does, I can’t help but do what I wanted to do. I lean back into him. Because what I said, it’s worse than that.

I have no more strength period. I’m done fighting.

“I want to be the man you want, Gabriela. I want to be the man who carried you out of that well.”

I turn in his arms, look up at him.

He puts his hands on my face, and he’s so big, so much bigger than me. My protector and my predator in one. He pushes my hair back, smearing tears across my cheeks. He looks down at me and what I see in his eyes, it makes me ache.

“Hope is a stupid thing,” I say.

He’s caught off guard and it takes him a moment. “No, it’s not a stupid thing. It’s a good thing. And sometimes, the only thing. I don’t want you sad anymore, Gabriela. This isn’t your father’s house. This isn’t anything but what you let it be.”

“You don’t know how much I want to believe you.”

“Then believe me.”

He kisses me then and it takes me a minute. It takes me that minute to register his lips on mine. His mouth on mine. His breath, his warm mouth, his strong arms. It’s not erotic or sexual. It’s different. Soft. A consummation of trust, so much more important than the consummation of our marriage.

It takes me a full minute to accept that kiss because my mind wanders to where it had gone the other night. To that question. And I know the answer.

He warned me not to fall in love with him but it’s too late. I think it was too late a long time ago.

“Stefan,” I start, drawing back. I have to stop this. Because after everything this is the thing that will break me.

He closes his mouth over mine again and doesn’t release me from his kiss as he walks me backward to my bed. When the backs of my knees hit it, I drop down to a seat and he crouches, kissing me with a hunger that matches my own. A need that matches my own.

He’s not careful undressing me. Something tears as he strips my pants and panties off and he’s between my legs, one hand on the top of my head, the other undoing his jeans, his eyes fierce and dark and their expression the same as when he looked at me out there on that balcony.

And when he pushes into me, I’m ready for him. I cling to him and hear his grunt, feel him, his big body on top of mine, his thick cock inside me, stretching me, hurting me, making me his as I cleave to him and wrap my legs around him and our kiss, it’s need. Pure need. A possession. Like we can’t get enough. Can’t get close enough.

When I come, it’s different than any other time. With him. By myself. It’s different and whole and I don’t close my eyes or turn away. I watch him and let him watch me and something is different between us. Maybe it’s us who are different. I just know I can’t be without him.

And I know if he betrays me again, it will destroy me.

 

 

21

 

 

Stefan

 

 

Tucked beneath a blanket, Gabriela is asleep in the seat beside mine as we fly through the night sky to the states. She has her head turned toward me and her hands are tucked beneath her cheek.

She looks so young when she sleeps. So innocent and vulnerable.

The flight attendant comes with my drink and I turn to take it, thanking her with a nod. I sit in the dimly lit cabin and sip as I think.

There’s more than one reason we’re going to New York. Yes, I want to get her brother for her. I don’t want anything from Gabe Marchese. Yes, he’s a pawn. And yes, I wanted guardianship out of selfish reasons. But if the end result makes her happy while meeting my goals, then so be it and I am happier for it.

I meant what I said. I want to be the man who carried her out of the well.

It’s just complicated.

Those of us who crawl out of the darkness, we’re never fully able to stand in the light for long.

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