Page 134 of The Savage

‘I know.’ I pause. ‘But it felt like losing her twice.’

He pulls me gently onto his chest, large palm stroking the small of my back, slow and grounding. ‘You’ll get those memories back. The real ones. Not the ones they fed you.’

I want to believe him. I want to believe so many things now. A pulse of pain throbs behind my eyes and I rub my temple.

His brows knit instantly. ‘Headache?’

‘A little.’

His jaw flexes. ‘Do you want me to get Conti?’

‘No,’ I say quickly. ‘It’s just… everything. It’ll pass.’

He gives me a look. I give him one back, equally stubborn.

He sighs. ‘Angel, for one million euros, this man is yours until I say otherwise.’

I roll my eyes. ‘Renzo⁠—’

He kisses my mouth to shut me up, smiling the whole time.

And God help me, I melt every time he does that.

‘Don’t roll your eyes at me,’ he murmurs. ‘I’ll put you on your knees so you can roll them while I fuck your throat.’

My cheeks heat violently and he laughs, low and wicked. Then smacks my backside lightly as he gets up. ‘Come on. Get dressed. We’re leaving for Monza in twenty minutes.’

My pulse stutters. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Fuck yes, I am,’ he says, tugging a shirt over his head. ‘You’ll get a front row view of how incredible I am.’

‘You mean your ego?’

‘And my car.’ His grin widens. ‘And you watching me handle both.’

I groan into my hands.

He cackles like the devil himself.

* * *

I hide my relief well when I see we’re not going alone.

The bodyguards we came here with, who I discover are all part of the Salvatore mafioso security, accompany us.

After hugs from my sisters and stern instructions not to fuck around too long from Cesare, we leave Ortigia in a small convoy of four SUVs, Renzo behind the wheel of ours.

We drive through rolling green hills, morning sunlight spilling across vineyards and olive groves, everything smelling of warm earth and distant sea. I crack my window, letting the wind tangle my hair.

Renzo watches me more than the road. ‘You good?’ he asks.

‘I think so.’

‘You look it.’

I feel it too. Maybe it’s hope. A hunger for life. Or curiosity and wonder at a world that’s no longer behind walls and vows. And fear, yes – but not enough to stop me.

My third ride in a helicopter isn’t as terrifying as the first, especially with most of it spent in Renzo’s lap, succumbing to his lazy kisses and heated glances.