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Rafe steps forward, stopping just to the right of Leo. Cherry tips her chin to hold his gaze, her fingers never stopping their slow glide in Leo’s hair. “Are you sure, Raven?”
She bites her bottom lip again and nods twice, the movement slow and confident. I watch my brother struggle for a moment, his muscles practically vibrating, and relief hits me like a shot of vodka. I’m not the only one who’s freaking the fuck out about things.
Cherry pulls her hands from Leo’s hair, but his hands are slow to slide from her. He takes his time, letting his fingertips trail her thighs as he pulls back. Before he stands up, he kisses her.
Rafe steps forward again and extends his hand. She slides her palm into his, and then she’s swept into a bone-crushing embrace. The sheet gets caught between their bodies, creating a minty-green toga around her waist, but she doesn’t seem to mind as she lets out this noise between a sob and a laugh.
His head is tucked into her neck, their quiet conversation background noise to the ringing in my ears.
How can I protect a baby when I can’t even protect my woman from men like my father?
Self-loathing coats me like a slick of oil. I’m lost, swirling around in the dredges of my soul when suddenly, a pair of striking blue eyes fill my vision.
The love of my life reaches us and palms my cheek. The scratch of my stubble against her soft fingers pricks at my senses. She pushes onto her toes and brushes her lips across mine. “It’s alright, Matteo. I know you’ll come back for me.”
Her touch, her words—her love shifts the very molecules inside my heart, moving them around until they click into place. I reach behind my head and grab the collar of my black tee. She drops her hand, so I can tug it off with one pull. I straighten it out and slip it over her head. No one questions me as I slip each of her arms through my shirt, the possessive part of me growling in approval as it falls to the middle of her thighs.
“I’ll always find you, Cherry.” I slip my palm under the shirt and cradle the spot her hand was when she dropped her surprise. “Both of you.”
1
MATTEO
I tug the cuffs of my crisp black button-down shirt, exposing a half-inch underneath my suit coat. I shrug my shoulders and roll my neck from side to side. I fucking loathe being in my father’s house.
My house now, I guess.
It’s a goddamn monstrosity masquerading as a house—much like my father, actually.
“You good?”
I look to the left and see Dante, my best friend and my unofficial underboss, stare at me with his brow raised. I bristle at his insinuation that I’m not okay—even though I’m fucking not. I exhale and look forward again, keeping my gaze trained on the long driveway.
“I can’t decide if this was a good idea. Calling a meeting with the five families while she’s here.”
He steps next to me, and for a moment, we both stare out the window. The sprawling estate looks immaculate from a distance. Years of extensive landscaping and upkeep kept the gardens flourishing. “It’s the decision we all made together.”
I grind my molars at his reminder that we’re a fucking democracy now. I spent my entire life shouldering the weight of tough decisions—carrying the debilitating guilt when shit went sideways. Ever since she literally barreled into me and subsequently captured the eyes and hearts of my best friend and both of my brothers, we abolished the monarchy.
If I didn’t love her so much, I might send them all away.
“The families—including our men—are getting antsy without an official boss. It’s time to settle the debt your father made. We’ve gone too long without one.” Dante raises his hand up, stopping the retort on my tongue. “No one’s challenging your authority, but until it’s made official, we’re vulnerable. And I don’t need to remind you why that’s a very bad idea for us.”
My fingers curl into my palms at the reminder of why we’re already in a precarious situation. My girl dropped a bomb on us last week like it was nothing, conveniently leaving out a positive pregnancy test on the bathroom counter for any of us to stumble upon.
And that’s exactly what Rafe did.
I swear to god, I had a mini heart attack when she casually smiled at all of us and said, “Surprise.” To say we were shocked would be the understatement of the century. Dante was the first to move, jumping on the bed and smoothing out the tension radiating from her. As if our baby would ever be something other than a fucking miracle. I know my reaction didn’t help, but shock is a fucked-up thing, and it took me a few minutes to work through the panic that seized me.
But it’s been a week, and I’m still jumpy as fuck. I keep expecting the other shoe to drop—another ambush or retaliation of a war my father started because he was fucked-up or bored or who knows why. There’s a repeated pattern in my life: get something good, lose it. Whether by force or circumstance.
Cherry changed all that.
Just thinking of all the shit my father started and left us to clean up drives me to violence. “I want to bring that motherfucker back to life just so I can kill him with my bare hands.” The words slip through my lips on a growl. My anger feels explosive inside of me, clawing at my ribs in desperation to be free.
“You’d have to get in line,” Dante snaps, picking up the same train of thought. It’s one of the reasons we’ve been best friends since we could walk.
I turn back on the window and face my father’s office. My fingers drum a staccato rhythm on his heavy wooden desk at the thought. Guess Dante’s not technically the number two—the underboss of the Rossi family—yet. Something I intend to change, and one of the driving forces behind the meeting today: it’s time to officially promote Dante.
