Page 28 of The Forever One
Two hours later, and I still haven’t said what I came here to say. This really has been the meet and greet the capos wanted. They’ve asked questions, most of which answered with zero details—I can’t trust these people with my life like I can Marco—and I’ve asked questions in return. In reality, my trying to rush things would probably have led me to making a completely different decision.
That universe, always putting obstacles in the way and making me think things through rationally.
“Can I just get everyone’s attention, please?” The room quiets again and everyone takes their seats, myself and Marco included. “While I have loved getting to know you all, and hearing stories about my family, I can’t stay here in Naples. I can’t run this organization the way you need it. It’s completely a me thing. I’m just not cut out for this, I wasn’t raised for this, and this isn’t a decision I’ve taken lightly, because I’m aware of what is at stake to some extent. But I need to hand the proverbial reins over to someone who will cherish the opportunity. After a discussion with Gabriella, along with my own research,”—I’m technically not lying, but I want them to think my research involved a lot more than just talking with them for two hours and a chat with Gabriella—“I have decided that your new don will be Emilia La Rosa.”
It was almost Romeo. It had felt like thousands of years of internal misogyny were pushing me to choose the man to rule the mafia family. Until, that is, my brain kicked me in the ass and pointed out that this woman has a presence only a leader possesses. Not only does she stand out in a crowd but she’s regal and possesses a spine of steel.
The room bursts with excitement, rumbles of congratulations bouncing off the walls, and Emilia’s face is almost stoic as she graciously accepts. Although I can see the slight upturn of her lips before she speaks.
“I will not let the Volpe family down. Grazie, River. Please know, we will always be here for you. It is what your grandparents would have wanted, so do not hesitate to call if you need anything at all. Okay?” Emilia stands as she speaks, her shock quickly fading as she assumes the power she will need to run Naples.
Whatever the fuck that entails.
“Well, there is one thing. Ugo and Elizabeth escaped. If you could keep an eye out and discreetly let us or our people know what you know, that would be super helpful. Thank you.”
Marco chuckles beside me, knowing I’m feeling awkward as fuck with having to ask that question of the Naples mafia people after handing it all over to someone else, but we discussed it before we arrived. And it’s something we needed to do.
Ugo and Elizabeth can’t be allowed to get away with everything.
All I’m doing is giving karma a push in the right direction.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
MARCO
Inever thought I’d be so happy to leave Italy behind. Initiating my wife into the mile-high club for the better part of the flight may have had a part to play in that sentiment. Tyler, Lina, and Enzo flew out a few hours before us, leaving us a plane to ourselves. The staff didn’t even bat an eye at what I’m sure was a boisterous flight.
Stefano had the house cleaned and ready for us upon our arrival, going as far as preparing a list of potential locations where he thought Elizabeth and Ugo might be hiding. We thanked him profusely and, although he tried his best to hide his emotions, I could see the relief at our safe return shining in his eyes. We briefly spoke about firing Justin and Aly for making a colossal mistake in allowing River to leave the house the day we got kidnapped. She was pissed, but in the end understood that it was better than the alternative. At least they still have their heads.
Grabbing the files, I guided my wife upstairs and let him know that we were not to be disturbed unless the world was on fire—and even then, I wasn’t sure it was important enough.
A shower, a couple of orgasms, and ten hours of deep sleep later, we’re digging into an elaborate breakfast that we both desperately needed in order to recharge. It’s well past noon, but our bodies are still on Naples’ time, which means bacon, eggs, and coffee are exactly what the doctor ordered.
“How’s your shoulder?” We’re lying in bed, sated and well-nourished, just taking advantage of these rare moments where only we exist.
“It’s fine.” I’m taking the meds the doctor in Naples gave me to minimize the pain, but the burn from the torn muscles and flesh is still omnipresent, albeit dull.
“You’re a good liar, Mr. Mancini, but not good enough to fool me.” Lifting her head from my chest, she places a soft kiss on my bandaged wound before straddling my face and giving me what I really want—her delicious pussy.
“If this is my punishment for lying,” I thrust my hips up off the bed on instinct, all the while pulling her down over my mouth and licking up her sweet juices. “I think I’ll lie all day long.”
“Don’t press your luck, Mancini.” In a flash, her silky pajama top is flying behind her, landing somewhere at the foot of the bed, and my tongue is back where it belongs: inside her.
Eyes closed as my mouth gives and takes, I slide my hands from her hips to her ass and use it as leverage to fuck her harder with my tongue, topping from the bottom. My scalp stings as she tightens her grip on my hair, my lips throbbing as she rides my face and takes what she needs from me. What started as something slow and tender is becoming more and more torrid and rough.
Everyone deals with trauma in their own way and being that close to death has made us hungrier than we thought was possible. It’s not about the orgasms—although, let’s be honest, they’re the perfect bonus—it’s about the closeness, the connection we have that was almost taken away from us.
“Fuck, I love you, Tesoro.” Ignoring the burn in my shoulder, I flip us around and grin at the scowl on River’s face.
“Excuse me, I was the lead part in that show, Mr. Mancini.” She’s cute when she tries to fight me, her legs wrapping around my waist, trying her best to flip us back around.
“Shh, Tesoro. No one likes a diva.” I plunge my dick between her swollen pussy lips as I lick a path across the seam of her mouth, reveling in her moans, knowing she can taste herself on me. “Plus, I have plans.” Her pupils darken at my words, my hunger growing exponentially at the sight of her relinquishing her control to me.
I need it. Crave it, to be honest.
“That’s my good queen.” I fuck her hard and fast until she digs her nails into my back and slides them down my spine, avoiding the bandage all together. It should hurt, but all it does is make me harder, drive me faster in and out of her tight cunt.
Her body shoots off the bed with a cry that has my heartbeat thundering and the hairs on my arms standing at attention. It’s animalistic, a lion’s mating call, with wild eyes and curled lips. Fuck, she’s beautiful when she’s feral.