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"His baby," I gasp. "He wants his baby, Mattia. I'm s-supposed to t-take their baby."
"Take?"
I sob, pressing my body closer to his. "In e-exchange for my mom. I b-bring him their b-baby, and I g-get my m-mom."
"What does he want with the baby?"
"I d-don't know! I don't know!" I sob, the words breaking on my lips. I never had the courage to ask him that question. The possibilities were too fucking awful. I know what kind of monster Brio is, and I know that I was never going to let him get his hands on that baby.
My mom is going to die, and I'm the one who signed her death warrant. There is no other way out of this. Not one I can live with. There never has been.
"Easy, little mouse." Mattia rolls us, dragging me into his arms as I fall apart again, sobbing until I can't breathe. He holds me through it, rocking me back and forth and murmuring to me in English and Italian. "I've got you. I'm right here. Sei al sicuro ora."
Each syllable is a shield, his arms, a fortress. As I cling to him, my tears soaking his skin, little pieces of myself begin to stitch themselves back together.
Mattia's fingers run through my hair with a gentleness that belies his iron nature. "I will find her, Aurelia. I swear to you, I'll find a way to bring your mother back to you." The pure steel in his tone leaves no room for doubt. He believes what he's saying.
And I want to believe him, too. But I don't. I can't. The wounds Brio carved into my soul are still so profoundly raw that his faith does little to soothe them.
I miss my mom.
I feel like an impostor and worse. I don't deserve this man or his protection. Since the moment he carried me out of Brio's, I've been nothing but trouble for him. And still, he's here, holding me together. Loving me. Giving me every piece of him. All I've given him in return is lies and distrust.
He deserves so much more.
"Mattia," I whisper, "I love you. I don't deserve you, but I love you."
"Cara mia," he breathes, so much tenderness in his voice another flood of tears falls down my face.
"Make love to me," I plead quietly. "Make me yours again."
"You're already mine, little mouse. Tutto mio."
But he doesn't tell me no.
With an intensity that takes my breath away, he lowers his lips to mine in a kiss that obliterates thought. It is not just a meeting of mouths but a clashing of souls.
"You are the light in my darkness," he murmurs.
I believe him. I have to believe him because nothing else makes sense anymore.
His fingers trace the curve of my hips, down to the soft flesh of my thighs. He parts them with an ease that speaks of his absolute certainty in his right to claim me.
The cool air hits my heated skin, making me shiver. And then his mouth is there, hot and demanding. He worships me with his lips and tongue.
I gasp as he eats me, clawing at the sheets, at his hair, trying to root myself to reality. His name falls from my lips like a prayer as he brings me to the brink again and again.
His touch is both a torment and a delight. He knows exactly how to drive me wild and does everything in his power to shatter me into pieces too fine to put back together again.
Only when I'm pleading, every lick making me cry out, does he finally relent.
"Look at me," he commands softly as he positions himself between my thighs.
I obey immediately, caught in the intensity of his gaze.
"Sei tutto per me." His eyes never leave mine as he enters me slowly, stretching me. It's torturous and exquisite all at once. His full lips part slightly as he watches the pleasure ripple across my face.
"Mine," he growls, each thrust deeper than the last.
