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Cover Design: Hang Le

A horrible incident entwined their lives forever. As an enforcer for the Famiglia, Maximus Trevisan has no trouble hurting others, but his life begins to unravel when he’s forced to hurt someone he’s meant to protect. Sara’s plans for her future were simple. Marry the man she was promised to, have several children, and build a happy family. But when her life plans are ripped from her hands, she’s left with no choice but to marry Maximus. It’s the last thing she wants, but it’s a burden she’s willing to carry in order to protect her family’s honor. Yet the darkness from their past follows them. Can they overcome their demons, or will they let it destroy them?

Don’t keep reading if you don’t want any spoilers….

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Sara was never supposed to become my wife.

Of course, I had noticed her before. It was hard not to. She was a natural beauty with light brown doe eyes and beautiful caramel hair. Only a few years separated us, but she had already been promised to someone else, whereas I hadn’t even wanted to consider marriage. She had taken care of her siblings and attended college while I’d spent my days torturing enemies as Enforcer and my nights partying in clubs and banging random girls. Our paths had rarely crossed until a single day forced our worlds to collide in the most devastating way. A day with the potential to shatter us and our future if we let it.

I glanced at my watch again. I had been waiting at the main entrance of Barnard College for ten minutes. Flavio never made me wait. After I’d closed the top buttons of my coat and readjusted my scarf, I took the steps down and headed toward the wrought-iron gates that marked the end of campus and opened up to Broadway.

I wasn’t surprised when I didn’t see his car. He always stopped right in front of the gates so I could easily spot him from the entrance. People were busy coming and going, but there was nobody I knew. Many new faces had joined the row of distantly familiar ones now that the semester had started. Apart from a friendly nod here and there, nobody acknowledged me. Making friends outside of our mafia world was difficult. There were always secrets, security concerns, and the fear of the person being an undercover police officer. I had my siblings, cousins, and my mom as friends, and I never had to hide who I was from them.

I glanced at my watch again.

Flavio, where are you?

Worry filled me.

I pulled my phone from my backpack to call Flavio when his name flashed on my screen. I smiled at the perfect timing. “You’re late,” I said without any reproach. I usually got carried away with tasks and forgot the time, so Flavio had to wait for me on more than one occasion. My brother was a saint (to me at least) so he never complained, and I definitely wouldn’t because of one mishap. “I promised Alea and Inessa I’d bake cookies with them.”

“My car broke down in the middle of nowhere after a job, Sara. I’m still waiting for someone to pick me up.”

I always felt a moment of sadness when I heard him talk about being a Made Man so casually, as if he wasn’t only seventeen and shouldn’t be in school instead. But that was the world we had been born into, and so far, it had been kinder to us than to others in our family.

“Don’t worry. Just send Dad. Or I can even take the trains.”

“You definitely won’t take public transportation. Dad’s in a meeting and too far away from campus. He told me to call Maximus. He had a job not far from where you are, so he’s on his way to pick you up and take you to Dad. Mom, Alea, and Inessa are already in the Hamptons.”

“Maximus?” I asked, surprised. Maximus Trevisan and I had only chatted a handful of times at social functions. I hardly knew him. But if Dad and Flavio trusted him, then I had absolutely no reason not to.

“He’s trustworthy. You’ll be fine.”

“I know. Don’t worry. I’m not concerned about my safety. Take care of yourself and get to the Hamptons safely. I’m fine.”

“All right. See you later.”

I hung up, and right then, a black pickup pulled up in front of me despite the honks of a taxi who had to swerve past it and the very unfriendly hand signals of the driver. The windows were tinted, so I couldn’t see who was behind the wheel. The polished chrome of the rims reflected the sun. I shielded my eyes and squinted at the pickup. The window on the passenger side slid down, and I spotted Maximus’s face inside the car. His dark hair was short, a bit longer at the top and mussed up, but not with hair products. It seemed he’d worked it in a disarray with his hands. “It’s me, Maximus Trevisan. Your father sent me,” he said in a deep baritone voice that sent a tiny shiver down my back. I cleared my throat, confused by my body’s reaction. My fingers on my leather tote bag tightened, and I stepped up to the vehicle, but before I could reach for the handle, Maximus jumped out, rounded the hood, and opened the door for me. “There you go.”

Another taxi stopped behind us and gestured wildly for Maximus to move his pickup. After one dark look from Maximus, the driver squeezed past us.

I peered up at him, warmth creeping over my cheeks. He was more than a head taller than me, and his tight white T-shirt did little to hide his muscles and tattoos. I wondered how many hours he had to spend in the gym to look like this and then decided I had no business contemplating that. I tore my gaze away and climbed into the passenger seat, confused by the residue heat in my body.

Maximus closed the door, then jogged to the driver’s side and got in. “Buckled up?” he asked, unfazed.

I nodded, still trying to determine why I felt slightly lightheaded in his proximity. Maximus was attractive with strong features, sharp cheekbones, a pronounced chin, and a very trained body. The most astonishing thing about him was his eyes, though. The unusual amber stood out against his almost black brows and thick black lashes. But I didn’t like tattoos, not just his—and he had many of them at first glance and probably more hidden beneath his clothes—but in general, and the stories I’d heard about Amo’s and his partying had never really made him attractive in any way.

“Your dad sent me. He knows we’re alone,” Maximus implored as he started the car. He obviously thought my silence was due to unease, which wasn’t the case, at least not in the way he assumed.

I gave him a quick smile, then loosely wrapped my arms around my leather tote bag. The feel of the smooth leather beneath my fingertips calmed me. My younger and outgoing sister, Inessa, often accused me of being too comfortable because I never sought contact with people outside our extended family, even at social functions. Suddenly alone with someone I didn’t know well, I realized how awkward I was because of “laziness.” “I know. I’m grateful you agreed to help.”

He pulled out of the parking lot. One of his arms was casually draped over the center console while he steered the vehicle with the other. “Sure. You need to get to your father safely.”

Silence fell over us as we headed out of the busier part of Manhattan. The Broadway was always a nightmare traffic-wise at this hour.

I wasn’t sure what to talk to Maximus about. After a day packed with courses, my brain was too frazzled to come up with topics we might have a common interest in. He probably didn’t want to hear about how medieval art depicted the plague and eschatology. Instead, I leaned back and gazed at the scenery passing the window. I hoped he wouldn’t take offense, but even knowing very little about him, he seemed like the type of person who preferred silence over idle chitchat.

“We’ll have to take a detour because of a major accident, and your father’s meeting was outside Manhattan,” Maximus explained. I simply nodded and closed my eyes.

“Fuck!”

His roar made me jump in surprise after I started drifting off. Before I could ask why he cursed like that, the truck swerved to the left. I let out a startled cry and clutched my bag. My gaze darted to Maximus, hoping for an explanation. But his attention shifted between the rearview mirror and the street ahead.

I turned around in my seat to find out what was going on. Three cars were close behind us, driving in a manner that suggested they didn’t care about traffic laws. Maximus swerved the vehicle around a corner and picked up his phone. “We’re being followed—”

My eyes widened when one of the cars sped up even more.

It collided with our rear, and my head hit the side window.

Everything turned black.

Fingers raked through my hair. A soothing touch that made me want to purr like that stray cat that occasionally visited my parents’ shelter and drove our dogs absolutely mad. I wanted to keep my eyes closed and enjoy it. But the scent of blood and my lack of memory of where I was shook me from my state of calm. I peeled my eyes open. They felt heavy, and when my vision finally cleared, a woman’s face with big brown doe eyes came into focus right above me. It took several moments before I recognized Sara Cancio. Her fingers were responsible for the gentle touch, and it must have been her blood I’d smelled because the left side of her brown hair was matted from a head injury. “You’re hurt,” I rumbled. My voice sounded even deeper and rougher than usual. I cleared my throat, but it felt as if I hadn’t drunk anything in days.

“You’re worse,” she said with a faint smile. She looked pale, and even though I wasn’t familiar with her facial expressions, she was clearly scared.

I sat up, raising my head from Sara’s warm lap. Her clothes were covered in blood where my head had rested. I touched my scalp and face—sticky with blood. I couldn’t recall what had happened. All I remembered was talking to Romero and picking up Sara at his request.

I looked around, and my body switched to high alert. We were in a cage, something that looked and smelled as if a wild animal might have lived in it, maybe some wild cat. The Bratva was big in the smuggling of endangered species. The cage was in a big warehouse near the harbor, considering many bigger wild animals arrived in shipping containers. The walls had been covered with noise-dimming materials. Three more cages were beside ours. All of them empty…

No. A half-dead bloody figure lay on the floor in the cell farthest from us. The man was still alive, but by the state he was in and the amount of blood pooling beneath him, I knew he wouldn’t be alive much longer unless someone helped him. Was he one of ours?

Captured by the enemy.

We had many of them. But this couldn’t be the Outfit’s doing. Their Capo, Dante, would never allow a woman to get hurt. The Camorra and Remo were certainly capable of every imaginable atrocity, but I didn’t think it was them either. That left the Russians or the bikers.

Neither option was good. Neither would spare Sara. My gaze found her again as she huddled beside me on the floor. Her blouse and skirt were covered in blood—mine and hers.

“I’ll get us out of here,” I promised without thinking. I didn’t have a hero complex. My job rarely allowed for acts of heroism. I did the dirty work. I maimed and killed. I didn’t save lives.

She licked her lips. “Is this the Outfit?”

I could hear the faint note of hope in her voice. The Outfit would have been her best bet. Fuck, I wished it was them. My fate would be the same no matter the enemy, but for Sara’s safety, it mattered.

I considered lying to lessen her fear, but my face must have given the truth away.

Disappointment filled her eyes. “It’s not, right?”

“No,” I said simply. I was as good a liar as I was a hero—unfortunately for Sara. I rose to my feet and glanced at the half-dead man in the other cell. From this vantage point, I could see more cages on the other end of the warehouse. Snow leopards, orangutans, and a few bears with black fur slept in them, probably drugged to the max.

Sara stood too and followed my gaze. Her eyes grew wide. “Why are there animals here?”

“They’re contraband.”

“And what are we?” Sara whispered.

I didn’t have an answer to that question. Bait? Leverage? A soon-to-happen bloody message?

Sara’s gaze moved to the cage with the bloody human body, and she swallowed visibly. “He hasn’t moved yet. Is he dead?”

“No. His chest is rising.” He wouldn’t make it much longer from the looks of it, though. Maybe they would feed him to the leopard later. It was a good way to get rid of the evidence.

“What do they want with us?”

I regarded Sara. She was beautiful, young, untouched. It wasn’t difficult to guess what some of our enemies would do to her. Had she been the target? Or me? I was notorious among our enemies for my brutal treatment of captives. Many wanted to get their hands on me to pay me back. But I wasn’t even supposed to pick Sara up. That was a last-minute change of plans. Had someone followed me unnoticed?

That was something I would have to figure out later. If there was a later.

I would definitely be tortured. I could stand the torture—I wasn’t concerned about that—but they would instrumentalize Sara, and that was a factor I couldn’t predict. I needed to protect her no matter the cost. I had promised Romero to bring Sara to him safely, and seeing her scared face, I wanted to protect her on a deeper level too. In recent years, two Famiglia girls who should have been safe were targeted. I had to protect Sara from becoming another victim of our feud.

Keys rattled, and a door to our side opened with a squeaky sound.

The moment I saw the face of the first man entering the room, I knew things were fucking bad. If it had been just me in this damn cell, things would already have been shitty, but with Sara in the picture, it was disastrous.

Jabba tilted his head. I always forgot his real name. Everyone called him Jabba because he looked like the ugly-ass creature from the Star Wars movies.

“What an unexpected guest! What an unexpected guest,” he drawled with a heavy Russian accent, sounding twice as stupid as he was, which was a feat, considering how big of an idiot he was. It didn’t make him less dangerous. He made up for his lack of intelligence with ruthless brutality, which had cost his men their lives on more than one occasion. He was one of the most important soldiers of the Bratva in our territory. When the Pakhan was away yachting somewhere in Europe, these idiots tried to hold down the fort. Jabba had caused us more than one headache in the past.

Because of that, he was very high on our kill list, and he knew. He might have ended up on my torture table one day like his cousin and uncle had only a couple of weeks ago. Now, things didn’t look too good for me—and Sara. Revenge could be the motive, and Sara got caught in the crossfire. I didn’t dare look her way. I didn’t want Jabba’s attention on her. Of course, his ugly bulging eyes zoomed in on her right away.

It was hard not to look at her. Even if she seemed unaware of her own beauty, it was a beacon in these bleak surroundings.

“And look at you,” he said, then let out a whistle and gave her a dirty smile. “This wasn’t the plan, but I think I can make it work.” He nodded, making his double chin wobble. “I can make it work.”

He stopped an arm’s length from the bars.

My muscles tensed in anticipation. “Scared to get too close?” I taunted.

He cackled but didn’t let me bait him into coming any closer. He was stupid, but not that stupid. “Not today, devil.” He smirked. “Not today, devil.”

“For fuck’s sake, stop repeating everything you say, Jabba.” I just wanted to shut him up for good, preferably with his cut-off tongue. Anger flashed in his eyes.

“What’s your name, poppet?”

Sara’s face was paper-white, and her hands shook, but she held her head high and tried to appear unfazed—without success. Fuck, she looked like something straight out of Jabba’s wet dreams: white wool tights, plum-colored tartan skirt, and a white blouse. Even though I wasn’t into the schoolgirl fantasy, Sara ticked all my boxes. “Sara Cancio.”

I cringed inwardly. Cancio was a name the Russians knew. Romero had loyally supported Luca’s quest to kill them for decades, long before wars with bikers and the Outfit had taken up our resources.

“Yes, yes,” he said. His gaze traveled the length of her, and my muscles clenched in wariness. Fuck. This could be really bad. I had to figure out how to get Sara out of this.

“You’re a real doll. A real—” He stopped himself from repeating the word with a glance in my direction. I smirked at him. If I turned his anger on me, Sara might be spared until help arrived. I could only pray that I’d sent a call for help before we got caught, but I still couldn’t remember a fucking thing. Jabba tilted his head like a fat bulldog and clucked his tongue as he leered at Sara.

She took a step back.

“I would love to sink my cock into her Italian pussy,” the man beside Jabba said. He was tall and made of sinewy muscle that made me believe he had a background in kickboxing or another combat sport, making him more of a threat than Jabba.

“You’d be dead before you could even get your small dick out,” I growled, stepping in front of Sara. They would have to come in to grab her. That might give me a chance to attack.

“You two aren’t promised, are you?” Jabba muttered.

“No, we’re not,” Sara said firmly. Her decision to answer so quickly—as if the possibility of being promised to me was unbearable—rubbed me the wrong way. I knew some people in the Famiglia still regarded my family as less worthy because of my father’s family history, but Sara’s father, Romero, had never seemed like he was one of them.

Jabba tilted his head in thought.

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking too much,” I said with a chuckle.

Jabba’s lips pulled into a grin. “I really like young pussy. But I’m also a businessman. I know you Italians think you’re more clever than us Russians.”

“Definitely more clever than you,” I taunted. I’d met many very intelligent Bratva soldiers in the past. Under the current Pakhan, intelligence just wasn’t a priority anymore.

Sara gave me a worried look. She obviously thought my provocation would make our situation worse. She didn’t know these guys. They wouldn’t show us mercy. All I could do at this point was to provoke them into stupid actions that might give me an opening to kill them and allow Sara the chance to escape. Or, at the very least, bode enough time for her. If they started torturing me and ignored her for the time being, that could be enough to spare her a lot of pain and humiliation. Just the thought of Jabba or one of his men touching Sara made me sick.

Jabba simply smiled stupidly. “Luca isn’t the unquestioned king over his empire like he used to be. Some don’t like that he’s gotten himself in a war with us, the bikers, the Camorra, and the Outfit. Lots of enemies to have.”

“Luca has loyal men who’ll die for him.”

“I think I’ll be patient today,” Jabba said. “I don’t care for virgins, you know? All the squealing and whining grates on my nerves, you know? And I have a new wife. I can’t fuck around so soon.”

My stomach tightened.

Sara looked even paler than before. She was clever. She knew this was heading in a very, very dangerous direction. Fuck. How could I save her?

“Luca puts a lot of trust in you Trevisan men. And your dad is one of Luca’s most loyal followers,” he said the last with a nasty look at Sara. “Sow discord, that’s what wise men do. It destroys from the inside.”

I had no clue what the fuck he was talking about. From the empty expression on his men’s faces, neither did they. If they followed Jabba’s command, they weren’t the brightest candles on the cake.

“This is what’s going to happen, Maximus. You are going to fuck the pretty doll. I bet you’ve been secretly lusting after a high-ranking pussy like hers. With your fucked-up family history, a cunt like hers is out of reach, right?”

I stared at him, blood pumping in a vein at my temple. From the corner of my eye, I saw Sara’s horrified expression.

“I won’t touch her,” I gritted out.

“No?” Jabba raised his bushy eyebrows. “I think you will. Or do you want Yevgeny to go first?”

I stormed toward the bars, gripped them, and tore at them like a madman. They shook in my hold. Some plaster fell, but the bars didn’t give in. Jabba took a step back. “Nobody will touch her!”

“You will,” Jabba said. “Or we will all fuck her in front of you. Or maybe we’ll just put a bullet in her head because she’s not part of our plan.”

They would fuck her either way. Unless someone saved us or I got my hands on Jabba, it was inevitable. “Yevgeny will record everything for Romero’s and Luca’s enjoyment. I hear that’s what people do nowadays. Record nasty stuff and post it everywhere.”

I pressed my lips together, rage and despair flooding my body.

I didn’t want to look at Sara. Fuck, we were doomed.

“Don’t play noble, Maximus. You’re a bad man. And bad men always want what they shouldn’t,” Jabba said.

He was right. I was one of the worst in the Famiglia, as bad as they come, but I’d never wanted Sara. I had never allowed my thoughts to go that way. I had gone after the available pussies in the clubs. Why would I set myself up for disappointment?

I took a step back from the bars, then thrust my entire weight against them again. More plaster rained down on us.

Jabba and Yevgeny pulled guns on me, but I jumped against the bars again. A shot rang out, missing Sara’s head by a couple of inches. Sara shrieked and dropped to her knees. I froze in my tracks.

“Grab a phone to record everything,” Jabba ordered Yevgeny.

“The bikers didn’t break the Famiglia when they recorded Marcella; they only fueled our rage. No matter what you record now, our rage will burn even brighter.”

“Sure, but this time, one of your own is hurting a poor Famiglia woman. That’s going to sting. I heard a story of how warlords in Africa break the moral of their enemies. They forced fathers and brothers to rape their own family. Clever, right?”

I grimaced, sickened by his words, but I didn’t say anything. Things weren’t looking good, and I knew they’d get far worse if we didn’t get help soon.

Yevgeny took out his phone and held it up, ready to begin filming.

My mind was blank. What was I supposed to do?

I had never forced a woman. I’d never understood how a guy could get off on it. I finally glanced toward Sara. She sat motionless on the ground, face ashen, eyes full of fear. Her white tights were ruined—ripped and covered in dirt and blood. Her gaze met mine, and she swallowed hard.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Time’s running out. You have exactly five minutes to fuck her, or we’ll do it and maybe cut her a little while we do. I’ve never tried blood play. Maybe it’s worth the hype.”

I took a step toward Sara. She became even more still if that was possible.

With Jabba’s, Yevgeny’s, and a third man’s keen eyes on us, I moved toward her even if it was the last thing I wanted. I memorized each face for later reference. One day, their faces would be scrunched up in agony and beg me for mercy.

I got down on my haunches right in front of Sara.

“No secret messages or whispering!” Jabba roared.

Sara stared right into my eyes, and I had a hard time not looking away. Her doe eyes killed me with their softness and fear.

“I’ll pretend,” I mouthed, hoping she understood despite her agitated state. I’d never pretend-fucked someone.

She didn’t react, and the fear in her face increased.

I tried again.

She shook her head slowly.

She obviously didn’t get what I meant. This was a fucking mess.

“You only have four minutes now. I guess quick fucks are your thing, Max?”

I touched her shoulder, but before I could push her back, she lay down on her back on the dirty concrete floor.

I looked her in the eyes as I reached under her skirt and grabbed the waistband of her tights and her panties. She tensed as I pulled them down her legs, but she didn’t fight. She knew this was the only chance to protect her from the Russians’ touch and maybe even death. They wouldn’t pretend like me.

She remained still as I unzipped my pants and pulled them down. My cock was limp, but I didn’t need a hard-on for what I had planned. I moved between her legs, shoved up her skirt, then pretended to thrust into her.

Sara closed her eyes with an audible wince. I wasn’t sure if her reaction or my thrusts were convincing. I couldn’t think straight. My thoughts only revolved around two things: killing Jabba and our escape. The assholes had even taken the knife I had in a small holster at my ankle. I only had my own body. I’d been trained for many years to make it as lethal as possible, and it was deadlier than many weapons, but I needed proximity to use it. A sob from Sara made me look down at her again.

Sara’s cheeks turned red, and she looked away from my eyes as I thrust again. My naked skin touched her inner thigh. I hated that she had to experience this.

“You think I’m stupid?”

I froze mid-thrust and glanced over my shoulder at Jabba. His head was purple, and a vein on his forehead throbbed. “That dick of yours isn’t anywhere near that virgin pussy. You have two more minutes to fuck her like you mean it, or I’ll call all of my men and let them have a go at her in whatever sick way they like. And some of them are sick fucks, trust me. And afterward, I’ll throw her in a cage with the bears or the leopard. They’ll be hungry after their long journey.”

“It’s okay,” Sara said in the quietest whisper. I looked at her, but she had her eyes closed, and her face turned away as if she didn’t want to see me.

“You better get her naked quickly.”

The seconds ticked by. Everything in me revolted against what I needed to do.

I closed off my thoughts and acted. I ripped Sara’s skirt away, leaving her naked from the waist down. Then I kicked down my own pants. Would this save Sara from a worse fate? Was I even a better fate than any of the assholes standing in line to fuck her next? This was wrong on so many levels.

My head throbbed, and my dick was still far from stiff. I closed my eyes, ignoring the phone recording what I did and everything around me—even Sara. I couldn’t think of her terrified eyes when I wanted to get it up.

I gripped my cock and stroked myself furiously, imagining all the sexy girls I’d fucked in the past. I wasn’t sure how long it took me to get hard. Jabba’s cackling in the background told me too long. Fuck him. Fuck this.

When I had it up, I opened my eyes, and I wished I hadn’t because the sight of Sara beneath me with her eyes closed, waiting for me to fuck her, almost killed my erection.

“Ten seconds. I’m not impressed.”

I didn’t hesitate. With a deep breath, I thrust as far into her as her body allowed. She let out a choked sob, her face scrunched up in pain and lips pressed together. “This is the most boring fuck I’ve ever watched. I really hope you make her scream, or I’ll be very disappointed.”

“And you don’t want that,” Yevgeny guffawed like a baboon.

I thrust again, and I didn’t look away as I did. I deserved to see the pain and tears on Sara’s face, even if it killed me. I deserved worse for what was happening.

I became numb inside, only aware of the rough concrete against my palms and the fine sheen of sweat on my forehead. Time seemed to stand still as I finally closed my eyes like a coward and returned to a scene with an imaginary woman. During our training to withstand torture, I learned to transport myself to a different place in my mind. It was a sort of hypnosis that could make you ignore pain for a long time. I never would have thought I’d have to use it in a situation like this.

A door banged against a wall. Someone screamed something in Russian. I only understood the word Italians because I had heard it from Bratva soldiers in the past. My fantasy dissipated, and I was back to reality.

“Quick!” Jabba roared. Opening my eyes, I pushed off Sara and staggered to my feet. Jabba and Yevgeny and the third man rushed away from the door through which they’d come in earlier. Yevgeny had his phone with him. I stormed against the bars again and again, trying to tear them down so I could chase them. My head rang from the impact. Blood spurted from my nose and a cut on my head, but I didn’t stop. The pain felt fucking good. It was well deserved. Definitely not enough. They disappeared through a narrow door at the back of the hall. I froze, my head ringing with pain. In my peripheral vision, I saw how Sara pushed herself into a sitting position. Her cheeks were tearstained, and she winced in pain as she moved. The door beside our cell swung open, and several Famiglia soldiers stormed in with guns drawn.

Of course, Romero was one of them. I released a harsh breath, turned my back to the bars, and sank down. I was still naked from the waist down.

The clinking of keys sounded, and Romero entered the cell a moment later.

I didn’t move from my spot on the floor.

His eyes took it all in. Sara’s panties and skirt discarded in a corner of the cell. My half-undressed state. The way she huddled against the wall with her legs pressed up against her body to preserve her modesty. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what I’d done. I wouldn’t stop Romero from getting the revenge he deserved. Fuck, I was ready for a bullet from him, even torture. I wouldn’t even try to escape into a fantasy world in my head. I’d allow the pain.

Someone knelt in front of me. For a moment, I thought it was my best friend Amo, but the blond hair quickly told me it was his brother, Valerio. “You okay?”

I stared at him. “Once you put a bullet in my head in mercy, I will be.”

He narrowed his eyes at me and tossed my jeans at me. There wasn’t compassion on his face. He was a Vitiello through and through. Compassion wasn’t part of their programming. “Get dressed. We need to leave. My father’s going to ask a lot of questions.”

I put on my pants, then let him pull me to my feet. My eyes went to Sara. Romero had his arm wrapped around her shoulders. She was dressed again but didn’t look my way as he led her out of the cell. Neither did he, though I suspected for very different reasons. He probably didn’t want to kill me in front of his shaken daughter. I watched them leave, then followed Valerio out of the cell.

“Did you catch any of the Russians?” I asked.

“One of them. A guard.”

“Not Jabba.”

“No.”

I nodded. Maybe Luca would allow me to help them hunt Jabba and his men as a last service. He knew how good I was at my job. He definitely wouldn’t do it out of charity.

Valerio took me to a meeting house in Brooklyn. We were the first to arrive. My skin itched, and my skull throbbed fiercely, but I didn’t say anything. I wanted nothing more than a shower.

Valerio and I went to the room that Luca used for meetings on occasion. I sat on one of the hardwood chairs.

“The doc’s on his way to check on you.”

I shook my head. “He needs to focus on Sara.”

“I think Romero and Liliana will take her to a female doctor.”

I nodded, then looked down at my feet.

The door opened with a soft creak. Two heavy sets of steps sounded. I recognized them. I rose to my feet, then forced my gaze up because I wouldn’t act like a fucking coward. Amo and Luca strode toward me. Like father, like son: gray eyes, black hair. But while Luca’s expression was thunderous, Amo appeared emotionless. Before I got a chance to analyze the look in Amo’s eyes, Valerio was already in front of him. They talked quietly for a moment.

I wasn’t surprised that they kept secrets.

When Amo finally came my way, he looked seriously pissed. We’d been best friends for half of our lives. I’d always known it would take a major fuckup for that to change.

Amo put his hand on my shoulder. “They played the wrong cards, those bastards. The bikers didn’t succeed, nor will they.”

Surprise following confusion shot through me until it dawned on me. “The video?”

Amo nodded severely. His gray eyes searched mine. How many had already seen what had happened? “They sent it to my father, me, and a few others.”

“They didn’t put it up on social media?”

“Not yet. They’re on the run. Maybe that will give us some time.”

“I need to know everything that happened, every fucking detail,” Luca said. The door to the room opened at that moment, and Romero walked in, followed by Flavio and Matteo. Matteo, as Consigliere, would know every detail of what had happened.

“I want to be there,” Romero said firmly.

“So do I,” Flavio agreed. Neither looked my way. Their features, hair, and eye color reminded me of Sara, making it hard to look at them.

Luca frowned, but then he gave a terse nod. Matteo’s eyes only briefly rested on me before he joined Luca.

Amo was still at my side even as the others lined up across from me like a tribunal. I wanted to ask about Sara. I needed to know she was okay, or as okay as she could possibly be, but the words got stuck in my throat. Instead, I turned to Amo. “You should go to them.”

“I’m by your side because you look like you need support.”

“Did you watch the video?”

“I know what happened.”

“No, you don’t, or you wouldn’t be by my side. Watch the video.”

Amo scowled. “I won’t. I don’t need to.”

Luca ran a hand through his hair before he leveled a hard look at me. I held his gaze. I would accept whatever consequences he decided on. I wasn’t usually someone who gave up without a fight, but in this case…

“To dish out revenge as quickly as possible, we need to get as much information as possible as fast as fucking possible,” Luca said. His voice rang with barely restrained fury. He looked more furious than Romero and Flavio. Neither of them was known for violent outbursts unless required, but the tension in their bodies and the tight set of their identical lips told me a flood of emotions sat right under the surface, ready to be unleashed.

“I’ll tell you everything I know so you can punish me accordingly. I’d like to talk to my family before you deal with me, though.” My calm voice was detached, and my insides matched my tone. I felt numb. I’d never felt this way despite the many brutal acts I had to commit in the name of the Famiglia.

Luca released a slow breath, then glanced at Romero and Flavio. “I know this is difficult, and emotions are on the rise.” He paused before he turned to me. “You failed to protect Sara and yourself from being captured. That’s the only transgression I see worthy of punishment. What happened after…” He looked toward Romero, who met his gaze, his eyes full of anguish. “…happened because you had no choice.”

I shook my head, not sure he understood.

“I should have picked her up,” Flavio muttered. “I would have protected her.” Accusation rang in his voice, and when he finally met my gaze, it burned in his eyes too.

I wasn’t sure if that was true. As far as I recalled from my spotty memory, there had been too many enemies. But the fact remained that I had probably been the Bratva’s target, and Sara had only been collateral damage.

“Or not, and then you might have been in the horrible position to do to your sister what Max was forced to do,” Amo said firmly. He still stood by my side. I’d forever be grateful to him for his loyalty.

Flavio’s expression twisted with disgust. “I would have never—”

“You would have let the Russians have a go at her?” Amo countered.

“Would you have fucked Marcella if the bikers had captured you too?”

Amo tensed, his face becoming stone. Luca looked ready to go completely berserk. Jabba had done a good job of sowing discord. Maybe he wasn’t as stupid as I thought. If it came to acts of brutality, he had more creativity than I’d expected.

Matteo crossed his arms and regarded me with a stoic calm. He had been unusually silent so far. His lack of jokes and the fact that he hadn’t bothered styling his hair to perfection like a runway model told me things couldn’t be worse. “This discussion doesn’t lead us anywhere. Maximus isn’t related to Sara, and he did what needed to be done in a fucking shitty situation. Even Sara knew it. You heard what she said to him.”

I swallowed hard at the mention of Sara. “How is she?” I pressed out, my voice rough and low, every word scratching my throat. Maybe that was how Dad felt when he talked.

Nobody said anything for several seconds. Maybe I didn’t deserve to know.

“Liliana took her to a doctor. She’s doing okay… physically,” Romero said quietly. His brown eyes were carefully controlled as he leveled them on me.

I nodded. “Thank you for telling me.” I’d always felt the utmost respect for Romero. He was a loyal and very skilled Made Man. Today, I admired him even more. It couldn’t be easy to stay calm in a situation like this. If our roles had been reversed, I would already have killed him in a fit of rage.

The door swung open. Dad entered the room. With barely a nod toward the others, he stalked toward me. His expression was unreadable. He’d always had my back, but I wasn’t sure how he felt today. Many people said I not only resembled him with my dark hair, tall frame, and amber eyes but also his character. He gripped my shoulder and looked me in the eyes, then he squeezed and gave a slight nod. “I’m here.”

My heart swelled. I gave a grateful nod in return. I wasn’t the type to put into words how much this meant to me, nor was he the type who liked to listen to emotional admissions.

“We need to figure out how to get revenge. This needs to be at the forefront of our thoughts. We can’t change what happened, but we can make sure every fucker involved gets what he deserves,” Amo said.

Luca nodded. “Revenge will be our main focus. It’ll be our first thought in the morning and our last thought at night. I don’t care what it takes to kill every fucker involved.”

Romero met my gaze. “I want you to help us get revenge. You’re one of the best when it comes to hunting and torture.”

My chest constricted. “I will do everything in my power to give Sara and your family the revenge you all deserve. I won’t rest until every Bratva asshole in this city has died the most painful death imaginable.”

Dad nodded. “We’ll get revenge, and it’ll be brutal and merciless.”

“And we need to make sure our enemies realize we aren’t easy prey just because we have enemies in every fucking corner,” Amo said angrily. He didn’t agree with his father’s choice to attack the Camorra and make them the enemy too. “That’s why they picked this moment to attack. They think we’re weakened by too many wars.”

Luca’s expression was tight with rage. He and Amo had butted heads on that matter before. I wasn’t sure if Amo was right, if the Russians had attacked because we had another enemy in the Camorra.

“We’re not any weaker than before. The Camorra never helped with matters in our territory.”

“But we can’t focus on the Bratva like we used to because now we need to watch our backs. Remo will attack at some point.”

“Remo isn’t my fucking concern right now. If you hadn’t started things with Greta, the situation would be very different.”

“I don’t care what led to this point,” Romero said tightly. “All I care about is my daughter, who suffers innocently. I want revenge, and I want it as soon as possible. It won’t help Sara, but since it’s all I can do, I’ll do it.”

I nodded. I couldn’t undo what had happened, but I’d do anything in my power to kill Jabba and his crew. It wouldn’t make Sara forgive me, but I’d never dare ask for her forgiveness anyway.

Mom kept glancing my way on our way home from the doctor. Two bodyguards sat in the front while we were in the back seat of the SUV. Four more bodyguards followed us in two black cars. I’d never been on the receiving end of so much protection, but I had been glad. Of course, even my protection had been upped after bikers had kidnapped Marcella, but I’d still enjoyed so much freedom.

I swallowed as my thoughts drifted back to what had happened. Goose bumps rose on my skin, and I shivered. The movement increased the soreness between my legs, another reminder of the horrors of this day.

Is there a chance of a pregnancy?

The doctor’s question flashed in my mind. Mom had been horrified, and so had I. Until that moment, I hadn’t even considered that this humiliation might lead to further consequences.

I shivered again. I hadn’t been able to answer the question. I wasn’t stupid. Of course, I knew that intercourse always meant a chance of conception, but the chances would increase drastically if Maximus…

I stopped myself from following that train of thought. I wanted to forget, to pretend it never happened.

Mom squeezed my hand even tighter. “We’ll get through this. No matter what happens next, we’ll get through this as a family.”

“I’m supposed to marry in two months.”

“You’re still marrying—” Mom searched my face. Nobody would have pegged her for a woman in her mid-forties, but she looked her age today. Her naturally dark blond hair hardly showed any gray, and except for a few fine lines around her eyes from smiling so much, she had no wrinkles. “Unless you don’t want to.”

I wasn’t sure what I wanted. But if I was pregnant with Maximus’s child, I couldn’t marry another man.

“I’m sure Paolo will gladly raise the child as his own.”

Sometimes it was scary how well Mom knew my train of thought. I bit my lip, my eyes burning with a new wave of tears. Would Paolo really want that? Did I? “I don’t want a child from an act like that.”

Mom swallowed, then nodded slowly. “Of course, I understand. If you’re pregnant, we’ll deal with it.”

Mom wasn’t fond of abortions, but I knew she’d have my back no matter what I decided. Deep down, I knew that I would keep the baby because I wasn’t sure if I could live with the guilt. Unlike many other girls who faced the same impossible decision, I had enough family support and money. “I’ll keep it if I’m pregnant. But I hope I’m not.”

Mom squeezed my hand again, but we didn’t talk anymore. I was exhausted, mentally and physically, in a way I’d never experienced. My body wanted to sleep, but my mind was scared of the images I’d relive.

When we arrived at our home, I felt a sense of safety I hadn’t until now. My body ached faintly, but the painkillers had started to kick in. Usually, I wouldn’t have taken meds for the level of discomfort I felt between my legs, but I just didn’t want to be reminded of what had happened every moment of the day. It wouldn’t be easy to forget, but I wanted to try.

“I left Inessa and Alea with Aria in the Hamptons so you can recover in a quiet surrounding.”

Mom meant well, but quiet was the last thing I wanted right now. I feared the voices I’d hear once it became quiet around me. I wanted distraction and normalcy. I wanted to be the Sara from this morning, not the one I could feel myself turning into. I wanted to cozy up with a sweet small-town romance, eat homemade cookies, and listen to my sisters’ bickering. I wanted to be safe in the knowledge of what my future held.

“Oh, you want them home?” Mom said after a glance at my face. “I just thought…” She let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t really think. I just did what I hoped was best.”

“It’s okay. Let them stay with Aunt Aria tonight. It’s already too late to have them come home. Maybe it’s better if I have until tomorrow to compose myself before they see me. I don’t want them to be worried about me.” I hesitated. “Do they know what happened?”

“We didn’t tell them much, just that you were captured but could be saved quickly.”

Not quick enough. My belly constricted. We got out of the car. Two bodyguards followed us. I was glad I couldn’t read anyone’s thoughts. Their expressions were enough to make me want to hide.

It was already half past eight, but I was scared to go up to my room alone despite my need to shower. “Can you come with me? I need to grab a shower…” Tears welled up in my eyes. Even our cozy home, a place that had always made me feel safe and happy, only made me realize how much had changed since this morning. Looking at the many family photos on our walls depicting a smiling Sara with bright, hopeful eyes felt like a slap.

Mom nodded quickly, her fight for composure as clear as day on her face.

I didn’t break down in the shower as I’d feared. I felt oddly detached from myself, from the situation…maybe it was a temporary thing, my mind’s way to protect me. I was glad for the reprieve.

After the shower, Mom and I curled up on the sofa in our living room, covered with wool blankets, and watched a Disney movie. My mind was far away, but seeing the colorful images rush by felt good. I was glad Mom had decided against our usual choice of a clichéd, romantic Hallmark movie. The mere idea of seeing people being romantic when my chances of ever experiencing the same were nil made me recoil.

My eyes began to droop when the lock disengaged, and Flavio and Dad returned home. Mom sat up, and I did too. Dad and my brother looked exhausted and guilty. Guilt was always involved for mafia men when their girls or women got hurt.

“It’s not your fault, Flavio,” I said firmly before he could utter an apology. “There were too many. You alone couldn’t have done anything different from…” I took a deep breath. “Maximus.”

Saying his name took effort. I hadn’t even dared to think about him up to this point.

His brown brows drew together, a muscle in his jaw working as he processed my words. “We don’t know that, and I’ll always wonder…”

“We’ll get revenge. Luca gave Flavio, Maximus, and me the okay to focus our efforts on finding the culprits. Maddox will help too.”

Surprise shot through me. Dad’s expression became cautious and concerned. “Sara. Luca won’t punish Maximus. And I chose not to ask him to.”

Mom’s face twisted with disbelief, and she sat up straight on the sofa. “You can’t be serious!” Her anger on my behalf felt good, even if I didn’t share it. I wasn’t sure what I felt toward Maximus. I simply didn’t want to think about him at all.

“You didn’t watch the video, Lily,” Dad implored.

“Oh God,” I whispered, realizing what that meant. Dad and Flavio had watched the video… I shot to my feet and ran upstairs. Stumbling through my open door, I flung myself onto my bed. I shivered, and my eyes burned fiercely, but the tears didn’t fall. I felt like crying, but I couldn’t. I felt like I might throw up, though.

Steps made the wooden floorboards creak. I knew it was Dad without looking over my shoulder. He smelled like the aftershave I associated with him and a hint of gunpowder.

The mattress dipped. “I’m sorry, Sara. Part of me wants to kill Maximus, but…”

“It’s not that,” I whispered. “I didn’t want you to watch.”

Dad was silent. Even though I didn’t want to, I looked up. His face was full of anguish. I reached for his hand resting on his knee. “You shouldn’t be the one consoling me, Sara.” He wrapped his fingers around my hand and squeezed. “That’s my job.”

His soft gaze was worried, a typical Dad expression. I’d expected a different expression after he’d watched the video, but he still looked at me like he’d always done. To him, I was still the Sara from this morning, but I could tell she was already gone.

My sisters’ chatter woke me. I sat up slowly in my bed, wincing at the soreness between my legs. I still felt sluggish. Last night had been the first time I’d ever taken something to help me sleep. Despite being scared of possible nightmares, I’d been even more desperate for the day to end.

The effects of the sleeping pills still seemed to have a hold on my body. With a deep breath, I forced myself to get up. Mornings meant new beginnings, a chance for something good to happen. That had always been a firm belief of mine, and I wouldn’t allow anything to change that.

I got dressed in comfortable loungewear. It was the weekend, so I didn’t have any classes. Still, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept until almost noon. I wasn’t a partygoer, so I usually woke up early.

Following my sisters’ fighting, I left my room and found them in Inessa’s room. Inessa was seven years and Alea was nine years younger than me. They argued all the time.

I leaned against the doorframe of their shared room and watched them as they argued over a broken hairband. They both had inherited Mom’s dark blond hair, but where Inessa’s eyes were blue, Alea’s were brown like mine.

Alea was the first one to notice me. She fell silent, soon followed by Inessa, who stopped midsentence.

“Sara!” Alea shouted and rushed toward me. The air left my lungs when she collided with my belly. I hugged her with a small smile. Inessa joined us and hugged me too. She looked at my face. “Are you hurt?”

I’d asked my parents to keep the details of my captivity from them. They were too young to understand. I could only hope nobody told them about the video. My belly did a flip, and for a moment, I was sure I’d throw up.

“I’m okay,” I said.

I needed them to believe it so I could start believing it too.

“We were so scared!” Alea exclaimed.

I nodded. I’d never understood the true meaning of fear, of stark, body-numbing fear until yesterday. I prayed my sisters would never experience it.

“Where’s Mom?”

“Cooking,” Inessa said.

I should probably consider eating something as I hadn’t had anything in twenty-four hours. I wasn’t sure my stomach was ready for anything, though.

I headed to the kitchen, where Mom was busy preparing minestrone for lunch. The kitchen smelled of the intense vegetable and parmesan broth. I drew in a deep breath, letting happy memories from the past flood me. I had so many wonderful memories. I just needed to make sure they would beat the one dark one I’d added to the list yesterday.

“Sara’s finally up!” Alea announced as she and Inessa entered the kitchen after me.

Mom whirled around, her eyes locking on me. The concern in her eyes was so strong, I was sure even Alea and Inessa couldn’t miss it.

“Are you hungry?”

I shook my head. My belly still felt as if I was in a boat during a heavy storm.

“You should eat,” Mom encouraged gently. The plea in her voice finally won me over. I could only imagine how much she worried about me. I didn’t want to give her another reason.

“How can I resist your minestrone?” I took a seat at the wooden table. Most days, we had breakfast and lunch in our big kitchen. We only ate dinner in the living room when Dad and Flavio joined us.

Inessa, Alea, and Mom joined me at the table, and we dug in. Despite my nausea, I forced a few spoons of soup down. It tasted as delicious as always, but I simply couldn’t eat more. I leaned back and enjoyed Alea and Inessa’s bickering. Those two loved each other dearly, but not a day passed when they didn’t fight.

A message lit up Mom’s phone from where it rested on the table beside her bowl of soup. She usually didn’t allow phones at the table. Maybe Dad and Flavio were sending her updates.

The screen lit up again just when Mom pulled it away from the table, obviously to hide it from me. Too late.

Paolo’s father.

Oh god. I hadn’t thought about Paolo at all since my conversation with Mom in the car. Paolo, my fiancé. The man I was supposed to marry in two months, in a wedding our mothers had planned for over a year.

Mom gave me a tight smile. Did she really think I hadn’t seen who had written her?

“They know?”

Mom nodded. “They were just asking how you feel.”

If that were the case, why did Mom hide her phone the moment she saw who it was?

I wasn’t sure where my phone was. Had it been destroyed during the crash? Or had the Russians destroyed it to avoid it being tracked?

“Where’s my phone?”

Mom got up and took it from the kitchen counter. The screen had a crack, but when I turned it on, it worked as always.

Soon, messages started flooding in.

“We messaged you last night. We didn’t know you didn’t have your phone,” Inessa said, looking up from her bowl, her spoon an inch from her lips.

I scanned my messenger. There were messages from my sisters, Valerio, Gianna, Aria, Marcella, and Isabella. Not one from Paolo. If he and his parents wanted to inquire about my health, he could have messaged me. I opened Isa’s message first.

If you want to talk, I’m in the gym operating the counter today. It’ll be boring as hell. Many hugs.

Isa and I were cousins and liked each other, but we were different. She was three years younger than me, so we’d never hung out together. She, Flavio, and Valerio had always been inseparable, and I didn’t want to meddle with their bond. Isa had been kidnapped three months ago. She’d never talked to me about the incident, and I had never dared to ask. Maybe it was time to change that.

I opened the other messages, but they all basically told me the same.

“There isn’t a message from Paolo,” I said, disappointed.

Mom put her spoon down, and her smile became even tighter. “Maybe he wants to give you some space.”

“Maybe.” I could tell that Mom was keeping something from me. I didn’t want to think about Paolo and my wedding right now. Part of me felt guilty, almost as if I had any say in what had happened. On an intellectual level, I knew that was nonsense, but that didn’t change what I felt. “I would like to see Isa in the gym today. She invited me over.”

Mom’s eyes widened in shock. She got up and picked up our bowls. I immediately helped her while Inessa and Alea wiped the table and loaded the dishwasher. “Do you think it’s a good idea to go out yet?”

“I won’t hide.”

“You shouldn’t hide, but…” Mom leaned against the kitchen counter, the dish towel clutched in her hands as she watched me with furrowed brows. “You seem so… composed. I’m worried you’re trying to be strong for our sake.” The last she whispered so Alea and Inessa, who were singing a song from Taylor Swift at the top of their lungs, couldn’t hear her.

“Would you prefer if I broke down and cried?” I swallowed hard because I could feel a storm brewing deep inside me, and I was terrified of the destruction it might cause if unleashed. I wanted my old life. I wanted normalcy. I never broke down. I was never overly emotional. I was reliable and calm. Maybe it came with being the eldest child. When Mom had struggled after giving birth to Alea, I had taken over responsibilities. Even when things had become easier after a few months, I had just never stopped being a sort of shadow parent.

Mom touched my shoulder. “Of course not. I’m just worried about you.”

“I know, Mom. But life has to go on.”

Mom’s eyes glistened, but she nodded resolutely and picked up her phone. “I’ll see if your father or Flavio have time to take you there. I’m sure it’ll do you good to talk to Isa.”

Thirty minutes later, Dad and Matteo picked me up. I was surprised to see my uncle.

“Your mom said you are determined to see Isa in the gym. Are you well enough to go out?” Dad asked as he held the door to the black limousine open for me while Matteo sat in the driver’s seat.

“I’m not injured,” I said. The abrasions were hardly worth mentioning, and the soreness was better by now. Dad wasn’t referring to physical scars, though. The two showers I’d taken this morning had definitely helped a lot—not only with the soreness but also with the icky feeling.

I got into the back seat. Matteo smiled at me.

“I didn’t expect you,” I told him.

“It’s been a while since I’ve visited Gianna in the gym. Today’s a good day to change that,” he said after a searching look at my face.

Dad sat down in the back seat with me. I gave him a curious look, but he only smiled. Did they think I didn’t know what was going on? They were upping my protection. I’d seen Marcella and Isabella lose many freedoms after they became victims of our world.

I tried not to think about the fact that Matteo had probably seen the video of me too. If I wanted to live my life, I needed to forget about that.

When we stepped into the Famiglia gym, my cousin Isa was indeed behind the reception desk, but she was immersed in a book propped up against the computer screen. Isa’s mother, my aunt Gianna, owned the gym. Through the glass wall on the right, I could see her giving a yoga course to half a dozen women, all of them familiar faces.

“Your vigilance is lacking,” Matteo said to Isa as he approached her and pressed a kiss to her temple. She made a face. “Oh please, guards are everywhere.”

Her eyes moved past her father to me. She didn’t smile, for which I was oddly grateful. I didn’t really feel like pretend smiling either. Her glasses were propped up on top of her head, hugging the messy bun in which her maroon hair was put up. She reminded me a lot of my aunt Gianna.

“I’ll sit here while you chat,” Dad said as he sank down on one of the chairs in the small waiting area.

“I’ll take over the reception,” Matteo said.

The gym area with the machines was on the left, and several women working out there kept throwing curious looks our way.

“This is a women’s gym. Our customers won’t feel comfortable if men are everywhere,” Isa said.

Matteo sank down on the chair behind the counter and propped up his feet on a second chair. “They’ll be fine.”

“Mom won’t be happy,” Isa said with a small shrug as she motioned me toward her. Everyone’s eyes seemed to be on me by now. I cringed and followed Isa into the office.

She still carried the book that she’d been reading. She pointed at the plush sofa. “Get comfy.” Then she walked toward an old-fashioned coffee maker where everything still had to be done by hand. “Espresso?”

I shook my head and plopped down on the sofa, sinking into the soft cushions. “Too strong for me. I prefer tea.”

“I live off caffeine. I’m trying to channel my inner Stephen King without resorting to taking heroin or booze.” She prepared an espresso. The rattling and whizzing of the machine filled the room, and I decided I quite liked the sound. Isa was focused on preparing her espresso, so I got the chance to watch her closely.

Her own kidnapping had been three months ago after Amo’s wedding. From what I knew, neither she nor her mother had been hurt seriously during the incident, but I still noticed changes in Isa whenever I saw her. She was even more serious and withdrawn than before, always immersed in a book or scribbling on a notepad.

She headed over to me with her espresso cup and a bottle of water. I realized she wasn’t wearing shoes, only oversized wool socks she’d pulled up to her knees. One was pink, the other purple, and the only dash of color in her otherwise black outfit of leggings, pinafore dress, and turtleneck shirt. She held out the water bottle. I took it but didn’t drink. Isa sank down beside me and took a sip from her espresso. “Did you know Stephen King wrote The Shining while under the influence of alcohol and heroin? And he doesn’t even remember writing Cujo.”

“I hope you’re not thinking about trying the same,” I said. “But considering the disturbing nature of many of his books, I’m not surprised.” Not that I had read many of them. I didn’t have the stomach for them, and now that my own life had been touched by darkness in this life-altering way even less.

Isa made a shocked face. “Disturbing but genius. And if you don’t like disturbing books, you shouldn’t read mine.”

“You wrote a book?”

Isa flushed and took another sip from her espresso, which meant the cup was already empty. I never understood the need for an espresso. I liked drinks that lasted. Nothing was better than hugging a big mug of tea in my palms and feeling it slowly grow colder as I inhaled the comforting scent. “I’m mostly working on short stories and novellas, but I’m also working on a book, yes.”

“Wow.” I searched her face. “Do you use it to work through what happened?”

Isa put down the tiny cup and leaned back against the armrest, pulling one of her legs against her chest. She looked straight into my eyes. I could tell she was weighing how much to share. I doubted she was someone who talked about things that bothered her with many people, if at all.

“My writing has become more jaded and darker. It’s also gotten better. I read somewhere that great writers are born from trauma. Not sure it’s true, but writing has definitely become an outlet.”

She blew a few strands of her maroon hair out of her face. Her messy bun barely contained her wild mane anymore. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I was torn. I had come here to talk to Isa, but I was also terrified of how putting my fears into words would make them more real. Last night’s nightmare about our capturer’s leering face had shaken me up. “I’m worried about how yesterday will shape me and the future. I don’t want one bad thing to determine everything else. I don’t want to give them the power. But some things are out of my control, and it really scares me.”

Isa nodded. She tilted her head. “What’s out of your control? Are you worried you could be kidnapped again?”

That wasn’t even something I’d considered yet. I slowly shook my head. Dad would never allow that to happen. My life of going somewhere without bodyguards was definitely over. “I doubt it’ll happen again. It’s just… I worry about how people will treat me after learning what happened.”

“You can’t change people. Some of them will always talk shit. They like to gossip. You are a survivor, so don’t mind these idiots. Karma will pay them back.”

I let out a small laugh, but I quickly sobered up again. “You know that some people always blame us when things like that happen.”

“You mean being sexually assaulted?”

I swallowed; even just giving it a name made my stomach plummet. “Yeah.”

She sighed. “We women always get screwed over.” She sank her teeth into her lower lip. “I know it might seem impossible right now, but eventually, what happened won’t be at the forefront of your thoughts anymore.”

“Is it for you?”

Isa shrugged. “It’s still there, mainly at night or when I get startled by a noise, but it’s better. I’m glad there’s war, so I won’t have to see any Falcones anytime soon.” She grimaced. “That part will be harder for you.”

“I rarely saw Maximus in the past, and that won’t change in the future. And the Russians…I doubt I’ll ever see them again.”

Isa let out a humorless laugh. “They’ll probably all be dead within a year, don’t worry.”

I wondered if she wished that upon her kidnappers, upon the Unholy Trinity. They’d probably not be served justice, whatever that was.

Isa and I chatted for a few more minutes about her books before we returned to the lobby. Dad was still on his chair, but Matteo was gone. Gianna was no longer in the yoga room either. Her course was obviously over. “My parents are probably arguing somewhere,” Isa said with a small shrug as if it was no big deal. I’d never heard my parents argue. I wasn’t sure if they simply never fought or were just very good at hiding their arguments from my siblings and me.

The door to the gym opened, and Cara stepped inside, dressed in gym clothes with her brown hair up in a high ponytail. She was Maximus’s mother. She froze in her tracks with wide eyes when she spotted me, and I did the same. Her eyes were blue, not the startling auburn of her son, and I was glad they didn’t share many physical features.

She was quicker to recover. Her expression became compassionate, and I dreaded what she’d say. Being reminded of Maximus came too soon. I wanted to ban him from my thoughts, but her presence ripped open wounds.

“I’m so sorry, Sara,” she whispered. “I know it might be hard to hear, but Maximus is distraught. He didn’t want any of this.”

“Cara,” Dad said in a hard tone as he rose from his chair. “That’s enough. Sara doesn’t need to hear this now. She’s got enough on her plate.”

She squared her shoulders. “You’re looking out for your child, Romero, and I’m looking out for mine. Maximus was a victim in this too.”

I could see the worry on Cara’s face for her son. I wanted to tell her that I understood and didn’t want Maximus to feel guilty, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. I just wanted to leave.

“It’s different,” Matteo, who had entered the scene without my noticing, said. “Maximus is a tough guy. He’ll survive.”

“That’s some serious sexism there, Dad,” Isa said, crossing her arms. “Men can be victims of sexual abuse too.”

“I’m sure it can be the case, Isa,” Matteo said in a voice that suggested he wasn’t convinced.

Dad put a hand on my shoulder. “We need to leave now.” I gave a terse nod. My throat was too tight to reply.

Talking to Isa had helped me, but what came afterward had opened the can of worms I wanted to keep closed. I didn’t want to think about Maximus because that meant reliving the details of what happened. I just couldn’t do it now. I wanted to have my old life back, and that wouldn’t happen if I broke down.

It probably wouldn’t happen at all.

“Paolo wants to talk to you,” Dad said as he stepped into my room after knocking. I had been reading a book on the restoration of medieval paintings for college even though I wasn’t sure when I’d be ready to return to my courses or when Dad would allow me to go.

A week had passed since the kidnapping, and I’d expected my fiancé to contact me sooner. On the other hand, I dreaded how mortifying it would be. I felt…I wasn’t sure what I felt, knowing Paolo had probably seen me with Maximus. I knew it wasn’t my fault. I had done nothing wrong, yet I felt inexplicably ashamed.

I shivered, trying not to let my thoughts take me down that road again. It would make leaving the house and going into public even harder, but I didn’t want to hide.

“Only took him a week,” I said with a fake smile.

“He contacted me right after, but I didn’t think having you deal with him was a good idea.”

I nodded. I didn’t like that Dad kept things from me, but I understood his need to protect me, especially because I knew he felt guilty.

“He can come over today if he wants,” I said, ignoring the way my pulse picked up and my belly clenched at the thought of meeting him. I hadn’t even dared thinking about our upcoming marriage yet. Maybe because I wasn’t sure if I even still wanted to go through with it. How could things not always be strange between Paolo and me? And if I was really pregnant…

The thought made my belly flip, but I shoved it away. I still had a week of not knowing, and fretting over it wouldn’t make things easier.

The moment Paolo entered our house, I knew there wouldn’t be a wedding. He couldn’t even look at my face.

“Hey, Sara,” he said as a way of greeting, his smile awkward and tight. He kept his distance from me. Not that we’d ever exchanged physical contact, but the distance between us had grown in every possible way.

Mom and Dad hovered in the background. Dad had made it very clear that he wouldn’t allow me to be alone with Paolo today. Not that I wanted privacy.

“Hey, Paolo.”

He looked like he hadn’t slept much, with dark circles under his brown eyes, and he appeared even more haggard than usual. He cleared his throat and rubbed his palms over his thighs, then he sent my parents a tight smile.

Paolo didn’t want to marry me. I could see it in his face, in his body language. He just didn’t know how to tell me without being rude and breaking our world’s rules. Though I supposed seeing your future wife having sex with another man on video, even if she didn’t choose to do so, gave Paolo a few loopholes to evade the marriage.

I felt sad, but not because I had feelings for him. I’d liked him in a platonic way and hadn’t minded a marriage when his parents had asked mine, but my heart had never been in it. I was sad because the future I had always envisioned slowly unraveled before my very eyes. I wouldn’t marry this winter and build a beautiful family with three kids. I’d be the center of gossip, with a canceled wedding and possibly a child from a man I wasn’t married to, born from an act I was trying to forget.

Everything I’d always wanted was suddenly out of reach. Most men wouldn’t marry me now. And was I really ready for that sort of commitment, for the intimacy it required?

“I don’t think we should go through with the wedding,” I said, making it easier for Paolo and myself. I couldn’t bear the awkward silence anymore, and I definitely didn’t want to listen to any possible explanation Paolo had come up with. “That’s what you came here to say, right?”

He looked from my parents to me, then quickly back again as if I’d caught him doing something indecent. And maybe it was. Perhaps it was cowardly and weak to end an engagement when your fiancée went through what I had, but I couldn’t blame him. Even I felt icky about the situation, about myself.

Dad’s expression darkened as he met Paolo’s gaze. “Is that why you’re here?”

Mom came over to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I touched her hand in reassurance. “It’s fine. It’s for the best.”

Dad scoffed. “It’s dishonorable to break an engagement, especially if your fiancée was hurt.”

“I didn’t…” Paolo trailed off. “It’s just…”

“Don’t,” I muttered. “Don’t say anything. I don’t want to hear it. It’s over. You’re free to move on, and so am I.”

“Right.” Paolo shifted from one foot to the other, then gave a resolute nod. “I’ll be gone then. My father will call to make the necessary arrangements for the announcement.”

He backed away, briefly paused at the front door as if he wanted to say more, then he left.

In the utter silence that followed, I could practically hear my heart breaking. I didn’t feel as if I were free to move on. I carried too much baggage from the past and fear of the future with me. At least now I didn’t have to worry about a wedding anymore. Probably never again.

I let out a bitter laugh and closed my eyes. After a deep breath, I opened them again even though I knew the result would be the same.

The pregnancy test on the counter didn’t leave any room for doubt. It wasn’t a slight second line, not one you’d have to look for like some people did in those cutesy pregnancy test videos I used to watch on TikTok. My second line was fat and blue. It was unnecessary to do another test, but I still did. This one was even more blunt. Pregnant. It was as simple as that.

I was pregnant.

Pregnant from an event I wanted to forget.

Pregnant by a man I often resented even though I knew he didn’t have a choice, and I had even given him the okay. An okay that hadn’t really been worth much.

Pregnant out of wedlock.

Oh, the gossip mills would love it.

I’d always been someone who preferred the sidelines. I never picked the boldly colored dresses or did anything crazy with my hair. I never laughed too loudly or acted out. I liked being in the shadows. It was where I was comfortable, a place where I could watch other people and admire their bravery to be bold. But I’d been dragged into the spotlight in the worst way possible, and now with this pregnancy and a canceled wedding, there was no way I could escape into the shadows again.

They wouldn’t let me.

They.

As if it was as easy to spot the people who’d condemn me. Nobody would openly point fingers. There would be pity and understanding, not open condemnation. But I knew how things would play out in the end. Some people would say I shouldn’t have gone to college, then I would have been safe. Some would blame it on my clothes or something equally ridiculous.

I hated that I felt helpless. I hated that things were once again out of my control. I didn’t want to be a bystander when my future was decided. It was my life. I wanted to be the one to choose how it would unfold, even if my options were limited. I still wanted everything I’d once wished for.

I looked up from the pregnancy test to my reflection. Maybe the rules were unfair toward women, especially women like myself, but I couldn’t change the rules or our world. I could only try to still fit in—for my family’s sake, for my sake, and even for the baby’s sake.

That left me with only one option. It wasn’t one I’d ever considered in the past two weeks, not really. Now, it was my way of taking the reins back.

The sound of a bike’s engine raised the hairs at the nape of my neck. When Maddox pulled up in the driveway, I took a deep breath to suppress my body’s reaction. I was in fight mode, as if the mere sight of a motorcycle was enough to bring out the murderer in me. I had always hated the bikers. It came with my job, and somehow, I hated them even more now. If they hadn’t recorded Marcella getting hurt, Jabba would have never come up with the idea to hurt Sara.

Maddox pulled his helmet off, then smoothed his blond hair away from his face. He looked like an MC member, even if he wasn’t wearing the cut anymore and had been working for the Famiglia for a while. Hell, he was even married to Luca’s daughter Marcella, but it didn’t make him a Made Man. The biker was ingrained in him, triggering me like never before. I hadn’t been one of the people angry with Luca for allowing him to work for us or be part of our world. I knew people could change and form new loyalties. I wouldn’t be here today if Luca hadn’t taken a chance on Dad.

Maddox regarded me from his spot on his bike as if he knew what I was thinking. He finally dismounted and headed my way. We had worked together on occasion when he’d helped us capture bikers, but this time, our encounter felt different, weighed down by feelings that didn’t even make sense.

He raised his eyebrows. “You look like you want to punch me.” He shrugged. “If that helps you get over the shit you’ve been through, be my guest.” He tilted his chin up in invitation. Fuck, I should be grateful for his help. He was good at finding people who didn’t want to be found—bikers, Bratva soldiers, simply everyone.

“I want to torture and kill. Punching won’t even begin to satisfy my need for revenge,” I growled. Fuck, I needed to get a grip. It wasn’t Maddox’s fault. He was here to help.

He shoved his hands into his black jeans and stared up into the overcast sky. “I regret many things. But I won’t ever regret kidnapping Marcella. Because if I hadn’t made the biggest fucking mistake of my life, she wouldn’t be my wife today, and that would be a fucking shame.”

“You’re lucky your kidnapping had such a happy ending,” I muttered bitterly.

“Maybe there can be a happy end for you too.”

Something snapped inside me, and I grabbed his throat. “A happy ending after what I did? Do you think Marcella would have become your wife if you had raped her?”

His fingers closed around my wrist, but he didn’t try to pull me away. He stared straight into my eyes. The understanding in them frustrated me even more. I wanted my rage to be met with rage. I wanted a reason to kill the man before me. “From what I saw, neither of you had a choice.”

I released him, grimacing. Had anyone not seen that fucking video?

“You’re here to help me find the men responsible for our capture, not to be the judge over my sins. Only Sara and God can do that.”

I was brushing my dog Bacon’s white fur on my parents’ veranda when my phone rang. He let out a yowl when I put down the brush. His short fur didn’t require combing, but he loved being petted like that, so I tried to brush him every other night. Despite his upbringing in a puppy mill, he was a very gentle Dogo Argentino.

When I saw the name on the screen, my brief sense of calm evaporated. It was Romero. Did he have new information on the Russians? Maddox’s and my investigations hadn’t come up with their location so far.

“Can you come over?” Romero asked.

“To your house?” I asked, stunned. I’d never been there, and after what had happened, I hadn’t expected for that to change. I hadn’t seen Sara in the past two weeks, nor anyone from her family except for Romero. Flavio avoided me and so did the women of the family, naturally.

“Yes. We need to discuss something.”

“Sure.” I stood and dusted myself off. “I can be there in forty minutes.”

“Good.” Romero hung up.

“What’s up?” Primo asked as he came up behind me. He had been stretched out on the swing.

“Romero wants me to come over to his place.”

Primo’s face reflected my own confusion. We shared the same hair color, but his eyes were our mother’s blue. Not as kind, though. “Do you think it’s a trap? Do you want me to come with you as backup?”

That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. I’d been too wrapped up in the thought that I might see Sara again, and fuck, that possibility scared me more than a possible trap. I could deal with torture, but I wasn’t sure I could face her.

“That’s not Romero’s style.”

“Some things change people.”

Who was he telling? I wasn’t the same person I’d been before. I didn’t want to think of how Romero must have felt watching the recording. Fuck. If he changed his mind and wanted to kill me in front of Sara, could I really blame him? Should I even stop him?

“Don’t even think about it,” Primo warned. “Your death won’t change anything. You can’t undo it. You did what had to be done. Everyone agrees.”

“I doubt Sara does,” I growled.

“She said it’s okay, Max. You killing yourself with guilt won’t make a difference. But you killing every Bratva soldier as brutally as you can will.”

I patted Bacon’s head who’d picked up on my agitation and pressed himself against my leg.

“I need to leave now if I want to make it on time in this traffic.”

“You sure you don’t want me to come?” Primo asked with crossed arms.

“Absolutely.”

I got into my truck and drove off. I could see Primo in the rearview mirror with Bacon by his side, watching me leave. I wondered if this was the last time I’d see my brother. Should I have hugged my mom one more time?

I shook my head. I turned up the music, drowning out my thoughts.

After I’d parked at the curb in front of the Cancio home, a brownstone townhouse in Greenwich Village, I stayed seated for a while. It wasn’t that I was scared of possible retribution. I blew out a breath and got out, then headed for the door.

It opened before I could knock. Flavio stood in the doorway. He was only seventeen, but in the past two weeks since the kidnapping, he’d become a real man. He wasn’t as tall as me, very few were, and not as broad, but from the tension in his body, I could tell it wouldn’t stop him from a fight. “Took you a long time to get out of your car.”

Romero appeared behind his son and gave me a tight smile. They were the same height and looked remarkably alike, with brown hair, brown eyes, and similar facial features. “Maximus, come in.” He opened the door wider and gave Flavio a stern look that made him step back so I had room to enter.

“Should I take my shoes off?” I asked. My boots would probably leave marks on the beige carpet.

“Liliana would rip your head off if you didn’t,” Romero said with a tight smile.

I had a feeling she would do it with or without shoes. I slipped out of my shoes and left them on a mat by the door.

It felt strange being inside their home, as if I were intruding even though they’d asked me to come. Steps sounded upstairs, then Liliana rushed down the wooden staircase and stormed my way. She slapped me hard. I didn’t move, waiting for more of her anger to manifest in violence, but she simply breathed harshly, glaring at my chest. Sara shared similar facial features to her mother, and just that reminder was enough to make me take whatever violence she wanted to unleash. She was a petite woman, but her slap would have made even some men take notice.

“I shouldn’t have done it,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

“No, I understand.” I had expected something like this when Sara’s family had asked to see me.

Romero came up behind his wife and placed his hands on her shoulders. She visibly relaxed under his touch. He gave me a nod. “Let’s go to the dining room.” He steered his wife toward the door to our right.

I followed them into the cozy dining room. Candles cast a warm light on their surroundings, and the scent of fresh flowers filled the room. A large bouquet of wildflowers on the rustic wooden table explained why my nose picked up the floral note. It wasn’t a room used for representation. It was a room where a family lived in. I felt reminded of home, even if I knew I wasn’t really welcome here. I wasn’t sure why they wanted to see me. I hovered in the middle of the room, not sure if they wanted me to sit down. Flavio entered the room. He had more trouble looking at me without accusation. His father hid his feelings better if he had them.

Romero motioned at one of the chairs. I sank down and stared at the quote across from me on the wall: Happiness is homemade.

I waited for the others to sit as well, but instead, they exchanged looks.

Romero let out a quiet sigh. “The past few weeks have been difficult for our family. In particular for Sara of course. Yesterday, we got news that added to this.”

Liliana met my gaze. She folded her hands, her knuckles turning white. Whatever the news, it was horrible. “Sara is pregnant.”

I froze. It took me several moments to realize why they were telling me this—I was the father. Sara was pregnant because of what had happened between us, because of what I’d done. I doubted I’d come, but I had been so deeply in my head, in my fantasy, trying to use the hypnosis techniques I’d learned that I couldn’t one hundred percent be sure.

I didn’t say anything. My thoughts were a jumbled mess.

Liliana and Romero exchanged a look that spoke of shared trust and wordless understanding, one I sometimes witnessed between my parents and had always admired. “Sara canceled the wedding with Paolo. She didn’t want to bring a child into their marriage,” Liliana continued. The timbre of her voice shifted for the second sentence, telling me it wasn’t the truth.

“And he didn’t want me anymore.”

My eyes darted to Sara, who hovered in the doorway. She wore jeans and a sweater that hid her belly, not that there would be a belly at this point, but I still couldn’t stop staring.

“That’s not what he said,” her mother said gently. In the past two weeks, I had waited for Paolo to confront me in some way. If someone had hurt my fiancée, I would have gone to him and probably killed him.

Sara let out a sigh. “Not in those words, but his eyes said it all. I don’t want someone to marry me out of pity.”

She slowly came into the room, looking exhausted and pale, with dark circles under her big eyes.

I had trouble keeping up with all the revelations, but my instincts told me what to do. “I want to take responsibility and help you raise the child. I realize it’s not something you’ll want, but we could marry to give the baby a family.”

Sara’s expression made me feel like an idiot. How could I suggest she marry me after what I’d done?

I cleared my throat and got up. “I earn enough money to provide for you and the child without a marriage.”

“I don’t want a marriage out of pity,” she said quietly. She avoided looking at my face, her gaze always hovering somewhere on my throat.

“I don’t feel pity.” It was mostly true. I usually didn’t feel pity, and my feelings toward Sara were dominated by burning-hot guilt.

“I can attest to his pitiless nature,” Flavio said bitterly.

My stomach tightened, but my face remained impassive. I knew what I was and what my talents were.

“We discussed this with Sara, and she thinks a marriage between you and her would be the best solution in this difficult situation,” Romero said. His tight tone told me he didn’t agree.

I searched Sara’s face. It was controlled, but her eyes brimmed with hurt.

I hadn’t considered getting married anytime soon, much less becoming a father, but I had to redeem myself however I could. Under different circumstances, marrying a beautiful and respected woman like Sara would have been a jackpot. Now, our marriage would be a constant reminder of my sin, which was exactly what I deserved.

“I’ll do whatever you think is best for you and the baby, Sara.”

“I don’t know what’s best. I don’t even want this baby. I mean—” Despair filled her face. She shook her head, self-hatred twisting her features. Whatever she felt was valid. I wished I had the words to tell her that, but I wasn’t a talker. “Excuse me.” She turned on her heel and left.

I got it. Carrying my child must be hard for her, a constant reminder of what happened. I admired her strength and dreaded how much more of it she would have to gather to get through a pregnancy and years of raising the child.

“She wants to keep it. It’s just a lot to take in,” Liliana explained, then she followed her daughter.

I wasn’t sure what to do. I wanted to go after her but knew my presence was unwelcome. Sara didn’t need my consolation.

“What do you have in mind? What next?” I asked instead.

“Everything is planned for Sara’s wedding to Paolo in six weeks. We would like to keep the date.”

“And just switch the groom,” I said.

Romero nodded. “It’s not ideal.”

“Fuck, it’s a shit show. Everything that has happened. But if this helps Sara, I’ll even wear Paolo’s suit. I don’t care. My feelings won’t be hurt by this.”

“Paolo’s suit would be three sizes too small for you,” Flavio muttered.

“Many people know what happened even though Luca made it very clear that he disapproves of gossip making the rounds,” Romero said.

“People will gossip no matter what. Eventually, they’ll move on,” I said. “I’ll shut up whoever I overhear saying something.”

“Good.”

“I realize I’m not the son-in-law you wanted, but I’ll do everything I can to be a good husband for Sara.”

Flavio scoffed but didn’t say anything.

Did he think I didn’t know I was the wrong man for Sara for more reasons than I cared to admit?

“It’s not you, it’s about circumstances.” Romero approached me and touched my shoulder, surprising me with the move. “I think Sara wants to protect her honor and the unborn child. She doesn’t really want a husband.”

I smiled bitterly. “I know this marriage will be on paper only. I don’t expect Sara to act like a wife.”

If Romero worried that I might want to consummate the marriage, he didn’t need to. I would never touch Sara again unless she wanted me to, and the chances of that happening were nil.

“That’s good. We should make the announcement as soon as possible.”

“Let me talk to my parents first, so they won’t find out through the gossip mill, and then you can pick a time and place where you want to announce it.”

I left without talking to Sara again. Everything felt surreal. My life had turned upside down. I needed to talk to someone. Primo had left for a mission soon after I’d left home, and this wasn’t a topic I wanted to discuss over the phone. I considered going to Amo, but he had a lot on his plate with Cressida.

When I pulled up the driveway to my parents’ house, I felt a sense of relief. I parked in the driveway and was immediately greeted by Bacon. He was almost deaf, a fate many white dogs shared. When I had to work too much, my parents took care of him, and I never took him into the city with me. I rarely slept there anyway, and if I did, I slept in one of the rooms the Famiglia had for soldiers from out of town. What would happen now that I was going to marry Sara? I would have to look for a place for us, but I wasn’t sure if I could take Bacon with me. He needed company, and here, he always had plenty. After I’d petted him and the four dogs belonging to my parents that were allowed to roam free, I walked toward the front door. Mom was already waiting in the doorway. She was in gym clothes, and her sweaty hair was in a messy bun atop her head.

The moment she saw my face, she came out to meet me. She touched my cheek and tilted her head back to look at me. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” I said automatically. I didn’t want her to worry about me. I could take care of myself. “Only hungry.”

I walked inside, followed by Mom. She still regarded me with worry as she put everything for a sandwich on the table. I sat on the bench and grabbed two slices of bread.

She watched me prepare and eat two BLTs in silence but never took her eyes off me as she leaned against the kitchen island.

“I’ll marry Sara,” I said after I’d taken a swig of water.

Mom’s eyes widened, and she sank down on the chair across from me. “That’s why they wanted to see you?”

“They didn’t talk me into marriage. I was the one who suggested it when I found out that Sara is pregnant.”

Mom leaned back in her chair. Her lips parted, but no words left her mouth for at least a minute. “Okay.” She blinked. “Wow. That’s not what I expected.”

She pushed to her feet and began pacing the kitchen, rubbing her forehead as if she could feel a headache coming. “This is a lot to take in for the both of you. How is Sara handling it?”

“I didn’t get the chance to talk to her alone. But she’s…” I blew out a breath, not sure what to say.

Mom nodded. “And you?” The compassion in her eyes annoyed me. I wasn’t the victim here.

“I’m doing whatever’s necessary to make up for my sin.”

“Max—”

I raised my palm. “Don’t. You’re my mother. You’d find an excuse for every crime that I’d commit.”

“No, I would not,” she seethed, her eyes flashing with anger. “But you and Sara were both victims in this.”

I got up, frustrated. “I’m not the victim. I wasn’t hurt.”

“Yes, you were! You were forced to do something sexual you didn’t want to do. You’re a victim.”

Was she blind to the fucking truth? “I’m not a fucking victim, so stop calling me one. I’m a fucking rapist.”

Mom blanched. “You’re not! That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, and you’re not stupid, Maximus, so stop saying it. I’m sure if you talk to Sara, you’ll see that she doesn’t see you that way.”

“She can’t even look at me.”

“That doesn’t mean she blames you. She has a lot to deal with.”

“I don’t want to discuss this anymore. I’m marrying her in six weeks, so that’s what I need to focus on.”

I hadn’t slept all night. My life had taken a drastic U-turn in the past few weeks. Suddenly, I was engaged, soon to be married and a father. Fuck, I still lived at home. My parents’ house was big enough, and that way, I’d always been able to help with the shelter. Now that I was going to marry, I needed my own place—I needed a place for a family. I knew of a few Famiglia-owned apartments on the market, but I’d always dreamed about living in a house outside of the city like my parents did.

What did Sara want? I hardly knew anything about her. If we’d been promised in the usual fashion, I would have asked her what she wanted, but talking to her wasn’t as easy as that.

But I needed to act quickly. The wedding was soon. That didn’t leave much time for my house hunt.

When I came down to the kitchen, Mom, Dad, and Primo were gathered around the table. “War council?” I asked sarcastically. One look at their faces told me they’d been talking about me.

“You’re jumping in for the discarded groom, hmm?” Primo asked.

“Not your problem.” He meant well. For some reason, he seemed to think he needed to protect me. I wasn’t the victim here. “It’s the best solution for a very shitty situation.”

Primo shrugged. “I’m sure it’s meant to keep the waves of gossip down, but a move like that will create a tsunami.”

“We’ll deal with it,” Dad said firmly.

Mom motioned to the breakfast casserole on the table. “Soon, things will calm down.”

“I need to find a place for Sara and me…and the baby once it’s born.”

Mom nodded solemnly. “I know. Have you talked to Sara about it?”

“Not yet. There wasn’t much time last night.” I wondered how to approach the matter. I dreaded how awkward things would be between us once we lived together. I’d give Sara as much room as she needed, but we’d still live under the same roof. People would gossip even worse if we didn’t. I didn’t really give a damn about anyone’s opinion, but Sara obviously did.

“I should buy her a ring. She can’t wear her old engagement ring anymore,” I said.

“Do you want me to help you pick one?” Mom asked, her face alight with hope. She’d probably hoped she could help me organize my wedding, but Paolo’s mother and Liliana had already done so.

“I don’t know what Sara likes. Do you?”

Mom bit her lip. “I can ask Gianna. She knows her better than me. That okay for you?”

“You think Gianna knows about this already?” Primo asked doubtfully.

“Romero didn’t make this decision without discussing it with Luca, and if Luca knows, Aria knows, and then Gianna knows,” Mom said with an amused look.

Dad gave a silent nod. “Your mom has great taste. Let her help you.”

“I know, and I will,” I said, more to make Mom happy.

Mom immediately called Gianna, who suggested we take Isabella with us.

I wasn’t sure how close Isabella and Sara were. Were they best friends? I always thought Valerio, Flavio, and Isabella were close, which didn’t really make me feel more at ease. Flavio had probably shared his dislike of me with his friends. I’d never had a problem with people disliking me. Many of the things I did on a daily basis made me unlikable, but the reason for Flavio’s dislike wasn’t something I was proud of.

Mom and I picked up Isabella at their apartment building in the early afternoon. Isabella gave me a brief smile before she climbed into the back seat. It had seemed honest. We headed toward the jeweler that Isabella suggested. Apparently, it was the jeweler Aria, Gianna, and Liliana got their jewelry from, which meant I’d have to use a huge chunk of the money I’d intended to use for buying a house. I earned good money as an Enforcer, especially if I did the occasional contract killing, but I’d enjoyed life as a single person without too much thought of the future. If I’d known I’d marry this soon, I would have put more money aside.

Mom and Isabella immediately began to scan the displays in the shop while I stood somewhat lost in the center. The only time I’d been at a jeweler was when I’d bought myself my dream watch, a Rolex Submariner.

“This looks beautiful,” Mom gushed as she pointed at something in the glass cabinet in front of her.

Isabella joined her and perused the display. She nodded thoughtfully. “Sara doesn’t like anything too obvious.”

I finally joined them. The jeweler took out three pieces that both my mom and Isabella agreed on.

Isabella leveled a serious gaze on me. “I think it’s good that you’re showing Sara you want to make an effort. I don’t think she expects you to give her a ring. It’s a great gesture. But things will still be hard. Nothing about this is ideal.”

I gave her a sardonic smile. “Oh, I know. I know nothing about this will be easy, and I know it won’t be a normal marriage.”

I wondered what Sara had told her. Isabella didn’t seem to hate me, so Sara couldn’t have said too much.

When I tried to contact Sara to ask her about a meeting under the pretense of having to discuss our future living arrangements—which was only one reason—I realized I didn’t even have her number. And why the fuck would I have it?

We had been distant acquaintances until the damn Russians had turned our lives upside down and turned me into something I’d never wanted to be. Sara and I still were mere acquaintances, only now with a dark past and a difficult future. Fuck it.

I contacted Romero, and after I told him the real reason I wanted to see his daughter, he actually gave me her number. I’d expected that he’d make the arrangements for me.

I stared down at my phone, not sure how to begin a message to Sara.

Everything I phrased in my head sounded either creepy, too formal, or like a fucking sap.

“Get a grip, man,” I muttered and slapped my thighs. “You can do it.”

Bacon raised his head from his paws, tilted his head to the side, and gave me his concerned dog stare.

Hey Sara, (It was sad how long it took me to settle for this greeting.)

This is Maximus. (I almost added Trevisan, but given our past and the lack of other people with that name in our circles, it would have made me look like more of a fool.)

Your father gave me your number. (To show her I had permission.)

Can we meet at your home to discuss where we’ll live after our wedding?

Thanks, (This one was the hardest. Any kind of affectionate ending was out of the question, but I could hardly write Kind regards or something equally fucked up.)

I sent it off and got up, waving Bacon over. “Come on, boy, let’s go on a walk.”

I needed to clear my head and not spend the next hours looking at my phone. Maybe Sara was too shocked by a direct message from me to reply right away.

We crossed the driveway on our way to our favorite trail through the woods, which began right behind my parents’ house.

My phone beeped, stalling me in my tracks.

It was a message from Sara.

Of course. You can come over this afternoon at 4 if you have time.

I do. See you then.

I glanced at my watch. It was noon. I was sweaty from working in the shelter all morning. The drive into the city in the afternoon would take me about an hour, so I’d have to cut my walk short to get ready.

I arrived at the Cancio home with five minutes to spare. I stuffed the small velvet box with the engagement ring into my pants pocket. I’d chosen khaki-colored chinos and a dress shirt to look put together. Handing over a ring wasn’t something I wanted to do in a tee and jeans.

Liliana opened the door for me. This time, Sara’s younger sisters were present too. They eyed me curiously when I stepped in. I wasn’t sure how much they knew, but given their age and their friendly attitude, probably not much. Like all the Cancio daughters, they had inherited Liliana’s beauty.

Sara came down the staircase shortly after my arrival. She was dressed in dark jeans and a very soft-looking cream-colored sweater. Her hair was up in a high ponytail, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup, so the dark rings under her eyes were very prominent. My stomach tightened.

She gave me a tight smile as she stopped at the base of the stairs, then tugged a not-there strand behind her ear. “Hi.”

“Hi, Sara.”

“Would you like to go into the living room?” Liliana asked.

Sara nodded, and I motioned the women to go ahead. They did. I didn’t see Romero or Flavio anywhere, but I couldn’t imagine that they left their women unprotected.

Sara took a seat on one of the plush armchairs. I was glad. If she’d chosen the sofa, I would have wondered if I should sit beside her. This way, she didn’t give me the option.

I sank down on the armchair beside hers.

Her sisters quickly perched on the sofa, looking excited.

“Inessa, Alea,” Liliana said sternly. “I’m sure Sara and Maximus want some privacy.” She looked at us. I looked at Sara. That was her decision, not mine.

Sara gave a slight nod.

“We’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything,” Liliana said.

“But, Mom, we want to get to know the man Sara marries!” the older one complained, pouting.

Liliana’s stern expression didn’t change her petulant attitude.

“Inessa,” Sara said in a voice that reminded me of my mother’s when she’d given Primo and me a lecture as children. “You’ll have enough time to get to know him. Now you need to leave.”

Inessa stood with a deep sigh, then they all disappeared. Sara would be a good mother if she could ever get over the fact that the kid was mine.

Silence cloaked the room, and I had to resist the urge to open the top buttons of my shirt because it felt like the thing was trying to strangle me.

“Listen,” I began in a quiet voice. The natural roughness and depth of my voice attracted many women, but it also carried an air of dominance and brutality, so I tried to soften it for Sara’s benefit. “I’m not like that, like what happened. You don’t have to worry. You’re safe.”

Sara’s face turned red, and she avoided my eyes. “I know. We don’t need to talk about what happened. It’s over.”

Her voice was clipped. I nodded. Fuck, I had absolutely no wish to talk about it, but I just wanted to reassure her. She would never have reason to fear me, even if she probably did after what happened.

She cleared her throat, and so did I.

“You—” she began.

“I—” I shut up.

She motioned for me to go on.

“I came here to talk about our future home with you.” I needed a bit more time to gather my courage to give her the ring. I wasn’t sure why I was acting like a goddamn pussy around Sara. That wasn’t me.

She looked at me. “You live with your parents, right?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I’m sorry you’ll have to move out because of me.”

I frowned. “You’ll have to move out of your parents’ house too.”

“I know, but I had plenty of time to prepare. This wedding was set a long time ago. But this is new for you.”

“I’ll be fine. The way to work is too long anyway. A city apartment will be better.”

“Oh, sure. You don’t want a house?”

“To be honest, I don’t think there’s enough time to find a house. Less than six weeks is not much time unless you’re ready to spend thirty million, which I would do if I had it.”

She gave me a small, understanding smile. “It’s not much time, yes. So you think it’s enough time to find an apartment?”

“I know a few Famiglia apartments are on the market, so I was thinking we could take one of them for now. We can still find a better place later. When…when the baby’s born.”

She looked down at her still flat belly and gave a small nod. “That sounds reasonable. You’re actually more reasonable than I’d expected.” Her admittance stunned me.

“Why? Why wouldn’t I be able to make reasonable decisions?”

Sara looked seriously embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just you and Amo have your reputation. With the parties and the girls. And…” Her gaze lingered on the tattoos on my hands.

“I don’t look like husband material to you?” I asked, mildly amused.

She raised her eyes to the ceiling. “I don’t know. I’m talking nonsense.”

“No, you’re fine.” I was relieved that we’d managed to have a halfway decent conversation. Fuck, I wouldn’t have dared to dream that was possible.

She lowered her gaze back to my face. “I have one request.”

“Sure, anything,” I said.

“I want to live as closely to my parents as possible, so whatever apartment is nearest, I’d like to pick that one.”

I hadn’t looked at the apartments in detail. There had been eight on the market.

“Okay. I don’t mind. I can check the addresses and send you the link to the portfolio.”

“Sounds good.”

Silence fell between us. I cleared my throat again, then after a quick glance at her fingers, which confirmed that she wasn’t wearing Paolo’s ring anymore, I pulled the box out of my pocket. Sara angled her body my way. So far, she’d been sideways. She regarded the box with widened eyes. “Is this…?” She raised her eyes to mine.

I opened the box, showing her the ring. “Should I get on my knees?” I wanted to kick my stupid ass.

Sara bit her lip, obviously amused. “No, don’t. You didn’t have to get me a ring. I would have been fine.”

“You’re now engaged to me, and I want people to know. I want you to carry a sign of our engagement to show you that I’m committed.”

“That’s nice.” She held out her hand palm up. I put the box in her palm. I would have liked to put the ring on her finger, but I assumed her gesture meant she didn’t want that.

I respected that.

She didn’t put the ring on right away, and I didn’t ask her to, even if I really wanted her to wear it.

The ring was beautiful. If I was being honest, it was more beautiful than the one Paolo had given me. His had been too big, too obvious, as if he wanted everyone to see how much money he’d spent. Maximus’s choice was more subdued and definitely more my style. The diamond was embedded into the yellow gold band. I preferred this style as it was more practical in daily life. I didn’t care if it wasn’t as expensive as the one Paolo had chosen. I hadn’t even expected an engagement ring from him. It wasn’t as if we had a standard courtship.

Maximus watched me closely as I fumbled with the box in my hand. Maybe he wanted me to put it on right away? I took out the ring and pushed it onto my finger. Surprise washed over me at how perfectly it fit.

“Isabella and my mother helped me pick the right one,” Maximus said.

“Oh? I’ll have to thank them.”

“You should,” he said.

“And thank you.”

He waved me off. “I’m glad you like it.”

Suddenly, something dawned on me. “I never thought about changing the wedding bands…Paolo and I picked them out a while back.” It had been a difficult process because Paolo wanted a big wedding ring for me too, but eventually, I’d convinced him of a less flashy piece. His choice, however, was quite prominent, not to mention that Maximus’s fingers were much bigger.

“I’d prefer it if we picked new rings. You will be my wife. I don’t want any signs of your previous fiancé on your body.” He snapped his lips shut, his expression tight with regret. It was the first time he was less restrained and showed a possessive streak. Although I appreciated his attempt to appear calm and reserved in my company, I had seen a different side of him when he’d almost ripped the cage out of the ceiling, fueled by rage.

I nodded. I was still so wrapped up in my own life, in all the changes I was met with, I hadn’t even stopped to think how that would make Maximus feel. I had tried not to think about him at all. “Of course. I don’t mind. I’m not emotionally attached to the other ring.”

“Good. So we’re picking new rings and a place to call home.”

A place to call home. I’d already dreaded moving out when I’d thought I’d move into Paolo’s house that he’d inherited, but now that it meant living under the same roof as Maximus, I was close to panic. I didn’t worry that he’d hurt me. I worried how being faced with him every day would allow me to pretend nothing had happened.

Soon, you’ll have a child who’ll be another reminder.

Could I ever look at him and the child and not think about the past?

The options in Greenwich Village, close to Sara’s parents, were limited. There was one place a few blocks from their house, but it was tiny, only 550 square feet with one bedroom. How were we supposed to live there as a family? And even Sara and I alone probably needed more room and another bedroom. It wasn’t as if being close to each other would be easy.

“This place looks good,” Amo said, pointing at another place, but it was too far away. Sara wanted to be able to walk over to her parents’, though I’d obviously never allow her to walk alone.

“Sara wants to be close to her family. I want to give her this sense of safety. She has enough to deal with.”

Amo leaned back. “It’s not Famiglia-owned, but there’s a place on the same block, even the same street. Here.” He turned his laptop around to me.

“Three bedroom, en suite, extra bathroom.” I fell silent when I saw the price. “It’s 2.7 million.”

That was a bit more than I wanted to pay, more than I could afford without borrowing money. I couldn’t just walk to the bank. That wasn’t how we did it. I’d have to ask Amo or Luca. It felt really icky to ask my best friend. Even if I sold my Rolex, I’d get fifteen thousand tops. That wouldn’t help much.

“How much do you need?” Amo asked without missing a beat.

I grimaced and began shaking my head.

“Don’t be stubborn. I have the money, and it’s not a gift. Maybe one day you’ll have to figure out a way to kill my wife in a very inconspicuous way. That’ll be worth many millions.”

I cocked an eyebrow. He’d said it in jest, but I wasn’t sure that there wasn’t a bit of truth in his statement. He loathed Cressida and despised her for having to give up the woman he really wanted. Not that I doubted Amo’s ability to kill Cressida himself, but it would probably get more messy if he didn’t use me.

“I have about a million.” That left me with two hundred thousand dollars for Sara and me to buy furniture and live a little.

“Maybe we can convince the owners to go down on the price,” Amo said with a smirk.

I grinned. “We should give it a try.”

The owners eventually sold it to us for two million.

Now, I only had to hope that Sara liked the place. It even had a small rooftop garden. It was on the fourth floor of a classic brownstone townhouse. The place was actually furnished, but I wasn’t sure if Sara would like the style. The neighborhood wasn’t one I would have usually picked. I felt like an alien compared to everyone else, and the fearful glances I got told me people considered me one too, and a dangerous one at that. The people who lived here worked on Wall Street or in a posh law firm. They had PhDs and went to Ivy League colleges. Those people transplanted hearts to save lives; I ripped them out to kill enemies.

Sara’s parents too lived in a townhouse, but they owned the whole place. Not to mention that Romero and Flavio had the ability to look as if they didn’t have a long kill list.

The moment I bought the place, I called Sara. I hadn’t sent her any information before. Since this wasn’t a Famiglia place, I didn’t want her to like it when there was a—albeit slim—chance of me not getting the place. And I definitely didn’t want to admit that I wasn’t as rich as Paolo’s family. His family was swimming in money. I was working hard and would definitely one day make more than enough money to buy a whole townhouse without threatening the owner, but I was still young and hadn’t planned for marriage yet.

“You got a place?” Surprise swung in her voice.

“It’s on the same street as your parents’ house. It wasn’t Famiglia-owned, so I had to be quick.”

“The same street?” The joy in her voice told me I’d made the right decision.

“Would you like to see it?”

“I’m not feeling so well right now. Maybe you can send me photos? I’m sure it’s great.”

“Sure. I’ll send them right away. Are we still going ring shopping tomorrow?”

“No, I’m sorry. My morning sickness is too bad, and it’s making me feel sick all day. My mother will join you.”

“Alright. Have a good day.”

“You too.”

I hung up, trying not to be disappointed. I had absolutely no reason to be. So far, things were still going much better than I’d ever anticipated. Maybe Sara was really sick, or perhaps she simply didn’t want to spend so much time with me yet, and both were fucking fine. Fuck, she had to grow a baby inside her despite what she’d gone through. I already had trouble wrapping my mind around the fact that I would be a father soon.

I sent her the two dozen photos I’d taken today.

A few minutes later, she wrote me a text: It looks great. Let’s keep the furniture. We don’t need to spend more money.

I looked around the spacious master bedroom with the oak floors, comfortable king bed, windows overlooking the treetops, and the light gray marble en suite bathroom. I wasn’t sure if Sara and I would share this room. I wasn’t sure if we should even try in the beginning. There would be enough obstacles for us.

The weeks leading up to the wedding weren’t filled with anything remotely heartwarming or romantic. The wedding had been planned for a while. My future bride and I didn’t have a budding relationship that needed to be honed. She needed space, and I was more than okay with giving it to her. The only thing I occasionally wished for was knowing more about the pregnancy.

Would Sara even talk to me if she decided to end the pregnancy despite her previous decision? I sometimes asked Romero how Sara was doing or even Amo because he saw her when Sara’s family visited his parents. That way, I always stayed in the loop.

I wasn’t even sure how I would feel if Sara decided to get an abortion. I knew I didn’t have a right to talk her into any kind of decision after what had happened.

I shook my head. I needed to focus. I had a job to do—one that wasn’t usually my style, but I’d talked Primo into letting me handle it. Explosives were usually his area of expertise. He had never been as keen about torture as me. He preferred things with more impact on a grand scheme and less direct contact with people.

I read through Primo’s instructions once more. I too had learned how to handle explosives, but it had been a while since I’d used them. “Don’t fuck up, or Luca will fuck me up” were his last words on the piece of paper he’d handed me this morning.

I had no intention of fucking up. Not just because I wanted to be the one to get this kill and wreak utter destruction but also because I didn’t want to get my brother, or Amo, who also knew, in trouble.

I got out of my pickup and approached the back entrance of the building. The neon sign on the front declared it a brewhouse, which it was by day in its public areas, but at night and in the spacious basement, Jabba’s little brother had a laboratory for designer drugs. I wasn’t supposed to go in. I wasn’t supposed to talk to anyone. Especially not Kirill. His wife had told us everything there was to know. She was the brain in their marriage, even if Kirill masqueraded as the one who led the business. Luckily, she had sung like a canary at the mere threat of torture. She had no loyalty to her husband or the Bratva. Her loyalties lay with Louis Vuitton and Prada and whoever guaranteed that standard of living. She was dead now.

I peered through one of the windows into the inside. Wooden casks were used as tables, and an array of beer cans and bottles were displayed on shelves on the walls. I broke the door and moved into the deserted inside of the brewery. No flights of beer and loaded nachos were being served now. I wasn’t sure if a silent alarm had been set in motion, but even if it had, there was only one exit out of the basement. I prepared the explosives and set a timer to five minutes. Maybe reinforcement would be here by the time the bomb exploded, and even more Bratva assholes would die.

I was supposed to leave right away. Instead, I watched the flap door behind the bar for signs of movement. I wanted to make sure Kirill was really inside. The flap door lifted, and a head poked through. Not Kirill. “This place will blow up in a couple of minutes. Send me Kirill and I might let you leave.”

The head disappeared, and almost a minute later, Kirill left the flap door. He wasn’t as meaty as his older brother, but they shared the same Jabba-likeness nonetheless. He cursed in Russian, something very nasty about my mother.

The timer was at two minutes.

“My brother should have fucked your future wife too,” Kirill said.

I pulled my knife and aimed it at his loin. The blade hit its mark, and Kirill sank to his knees with a satisfying howl. Matteo had taught me how to throw knives and Dad how to throw axes. Amo and I had often practiced throwing axes for fun. Throwing a knife came in more handy on the job, though.

Ninety seconds.

I pulled the jawbone of Jabba’s favorite cousin from the pocket of my leather jacket and walked toward Kirill’s writhing form. I had carved XO Max into the bone after I’d tortured the guy to death last week. I wouldn’t get to be as thorough this time, nor could I wait for Kirill’s death. I knelt beside him, put the jawbone down beside his shaking form, enjoying his horrified expression, then I rammed my knife into his back in a way that immobilized him so I could carve an M into his still flesh-covered jaw.

My eyes sought the timer. Twenty seconds. Fuck. I shoved to my feet and whirled around, then raced toward the exit. I’d hate to die because I carved my initial into Kirill’s ugly face. I’d hate it even more for Jabba to find my dead body. He was supposed to find the bodies of his family members until the disgusting rat finally emerged from the gutter.

Primo would definitely kill me if he found out I didn’t follow his instructions.

I was halfway to my pickup when the blast of the explosion hit me and tossed me to the ground. My ears rang, and the scent of burnt hair and flesh told me I had been a bit too close to the explosion than Primo would consider safe. I sat up with a groan at the intense pain in my back and neck. The building was up in flames, and debris littered the street. A dent in the hood of my truck indicated I should have parked down the street where Primo had suggested. But he wanted to be professional. I wanted to get revenge.

Who the fuck cared if I burned myself? Not I, that was sure.

I pushed to my feet despite the static in my ears and got in my car. In the distance, I could hear sirens. Soon, this place would swarm with police, paramedics, and firefighters.

I sat straight as I drove home, not wanting to lean against the backrest. It felt as if part of my T-shirt had melted into my skin, and I didn’t want to make it worse by putting pressure on the burns.

I almost passed out twice on my way back home. When I got out of the car, I had to steady myself against the door.

Primo stepped out on the porch and shook his head with a look of exasperation. He stalked toward me and helped me inside the house. I gritted my teeth when his arm pressed against the burns on my back. He sat me down in the kitchen and returned with a first-aid kit shortly after. “How badly did you fuck up?”

“I didn’t fuck up. I blew up the brewery, and Kirill is dead.”

“I’m sure that’s the whole story.” He dumped what felt like a whole bottle of disinfectant over my back, making me groan in pain.

“It won’t be pretty getting the fabric out of your wounds. You better bite down on something.”

“Give me a bottle of moonshine.”

He handed me the strongest liquor we had, and I downed a considerable amount. Then I gave a nod to show Primo I was ready.

It still hurt like hell, like being skinned alive, which was kind of the case, considering part of my upper skin had become one with my shirt.

“Most of them are second-degree burns. The fabric in the wounds is the main problem. Your neck looks the worst, could be third degree. You should go to the doc tomorrow.”

“He’s obligated to tell Luca about this.”

“Then take Amo with you. Nobody will ask questions then.”

That was true. I simply didn’t like using my best friend’s power for my own advantage, but in this case, I might have to make an exception. I needed to get the visible burns on my neck treated before the wedding.

I wondered if Sara would be happy if she knew I was getting revenge, that I was killing the people Jabba cared about.

I wasn’t sure how much of our quest for revenge Romero shared with her. Maybe it was best if she didn’t know too much, especially not the gory details.

I wore the wedding dress I’d picked out a year ago. The flowers and food were the ones Paolo’s and my mother had picked. Everything was exactly how I’d planned it in the past eighteen months. Everything except for the groom and the new wedding ring Maximus would later slide on my finger.

That, and the baby in my womb.

Today, I would marry Maximus Trevisan, a man I’d never considered husband material.

There were fewer guests than planned because Paolo’s huge family was no longer attending—naturally. Maximus didn’t have much family, at least not family he was on speaking terms with.

I was glad. I wanted a small affair. The big wedding I’d desired in the past now only made me nervous.

And we still had eighty guests. More than enough attention in my current situation.

“How do you feel?” Mom asked as she came up behind me, her worried face reflecting in the mirror.

I gave a small shrug. “Nauseous.”

The morning sickness everyone talked about was an all-day sickness in my case. I was eleven weeks along and was waiting for the nausea to finally stop.

“Take a sip of lemon water.” I accepted the glass Mom held out to me and took a gulp.

“And mentally?”

I wasn’t sure what I felt. Definitely nervous. But not in a way I’d hoped I’d feel on my wedding day. I was nervous about how things would be between Maximus and me. I still barely knew him. We’d talked three times and seen each other twice since he’d agreed to marry me. He seemed to be doing okay with what happened. Mostly, I tried to pretend I did too. But especially at night, the memories haunted me.

“Try to enjoy today, even if it’s not the day you’d originally planned. You only marry once.”

“You married twice,” I said with a teasing smile.

Mom pursed her lips. “You know what I mean.” She paused, narrowing her eyes in thought. “You know you can always return home. This isn’t like my first wedding.”

“I know, Mom, and I won’t have to kill Maximus with a letter opener. It’s going to be okay.” I said the last part for Mom’s reassurance as much as my own.

Mom shook her head. “I told you to show you that life can become beautiful even after a bleak time, not so you can make fun of it.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just such a crazy story. It’s just nothing like you. I can’t imagine you stabbing someone or risking an affair with a bodyguard.”

“Your dad and I were always meant to be.”

I bit my lip. “That’s true. You’re perfect together.”

Mom touched my cheek lightly. “Maybe you and Maximus can be better together than you expect.”

Mom and Dad didn’t have the same baggage as Maximus and I did.

A knock sounded, and Dad slipped inside. “Are you ready to go?” He froze when he saw me in the dress. “You’re stunning.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I still loved the dress. It was a satin piece with long laced sleeves and a scalloped neck. The flared skirt protected the very slight bump that only I noticed. A floral tiara with small crystals sat atop my head, and my hair was in a low updo at the nape of my neck.

He stared at me for a while longer, then toward Mom, and they exchanged an emotionally charged look, which made me emotional too. Something I really didn’t want. I needed to keep my emotions bottled up today if I wanted to appear as a somewhat content bride. “And are you ready to go?”

I didn’t feel ready. Mostly, I felt nauseous despite the medication I’d taken. My pregnancy was still a closely guarded secret, so I really couldn’t risk throwing up anywhere public today. Of course, everyone would know about it soon enough, and it would be obvious that the child hadn’t been conceived after our wedding. Still, I was glad for every day that the truth wasn’t out.

Nervous didn’t even begin to cover my feelings. Sara had hardly talked to me when we’d met last time, nor had she replied to my last message. I hadn’t pushed her, hadn’t asked her about the baby or anything about the apartment. I’d given her the space she obviously craved. We’d have to spend enough time together in the future.

I wasn’t fucking sure how that would work. Our encounters had been polite but distant.

“You look ready to puke,” Amo commented. He was my best man and currently lounging on the sofa, ignoring the messages from his wife that popped up on his phone.

“Your marriage stories don’t give me much hope for myself.”

“Sara isn’t Cressida. She’s lovely, and you’ll soon have a child, so you’re bound to make a real effort.”

“Plus, I’m not in love with anyone else.”

“Nor is Sara. That bond was simply a convenient union,” Amo said, ignoring my jab.

The door opened without warning. “It’s time.” Primo sent Amo an annoyed look. “It’s your job to make sure he’s not late to his own wedding.”

Amo got up with cocked eyebrows. “You did before I could.”

Primo gave me a nod before he left again.

“Is he still mad that you picked me as best man?”

I shrugged. He never said it outright, but I was sure he was. My brother and I were close, not as close as we’d been as kids, because we found different friends as we grew up, and I simply shared more of my shit with Amo. Primo was family, and I’d die for him, but I’d always known Amo would be my best man.

“He’s right, though. We need to go.”

I followed Amo out of the room where I’d spent the past hour getting ready, even if it had taken only ten minutes to get dressed, and I still didn’t feel ready.

When I entered the church with Amo and we headed to the front, everyone’s eyes were on me. Being muscled, tall, and tattooed, plus a member of the Famiglia, I was used to attention, but this attention was different. It was curious, concerned, or condemning.

I didn’t return anyone’s gaze and simply nodded at the priest before I stopped in front of him. I had never been a churchgoer, nor was my family. We didn’t talk about God. I wasn’t even sure what Dad believed or didn’t believe. Mom was spiritual but not in an organized church kind of way. I wasn’t sure what I believed. But I wouldn’t have chosen a wedding in a church if it weren’t for our traditions and the fact that everything had already been planned before I entered the picture. To me, entering church felt sacrilegious because I was committing sins on a daily basis and had no intention of stopping. It felt hypocritical to ask for the blessing of an institution that should condemn me to eternity in hell. But most Made Men didn’t have trouble becoming pious when it suited them.

When the music began playing, I turned around to the entrance. Romero led Sara toward me. She was breathtaking. I’d always found her attractive, but she was simply stunning today. Her dress wasn’t as modest as I’d suspected. Maybe she would have chosen a different dress knowing who she was marrying and why. My gaze briefly darted to her belly, but the way her dress was tailored with a narrow waist and a wide skirt below, you couldn’t make out a bump. Did she even have one yet? I hadn’t seen her in more than two weeks, and she’d always worn loose sweaters when I’d visited.

I fucking wished our bond hadn’t begun the way it had. I wished I could fantasize about my gorgeous bride and what we might do tonight because Sara was definitely a woman who gave you plenty of reasons to fantasize about her. I tore my gaze away from her neckline and focused on her face. She was smiling, her gaze focused straight ahead but didn’t meet mine. When she arrived at my side, one look at her eyes told me the smile was as fake as I’d suspected. Tension radiated from her.

My collar felt too tight, pressing into my still tender burn scars at my neck. Burn dressing covered the skin on my back. It had started healing, but I hadn’t been as “gentle” with myself as my mother had begged me to be. I could only hope I didn’t ruin my white shirt.

Sara’s gaze briefly lingered on the dressing on my neck before she turned to the front.

I almost told her how beautiful she looked, but I kept the words to myself.

“You may kiss the bride,” the pastor said.

Maximus frowned down at me. My belly twisted. If we didn’t kiss, the gossip would be even worse. Why was he hesitating? “Kiss me,” I pressed out.

He bent down and pressed a short, passionless kiss to my lips. I knew our bond was built on a very shaky foundation, but I’d hoped he’d pretend in public. I’d given up my dreams of a romantic first kiss a long time ago.

After our kiss, we headed out of church for the obligatory congratulations. I’d experienced many awkward ceremonies, but this was worse. The people who knew what had happened sent me looks of compassion or pity, and the people who based their judgment on the gossip that had spread like wildfire since Maximus and I had announced our engagement sent me looks of condemnation. The latter speculated I was pregnant because of an affair with Maximus, and that was the reason for the quick wedding—and groom exchange.

Maximus’s expression remained hard and unperturbed throughout it all. His face almost always harbored a certain air of hardness and threat. The only time it hadn’t been like that had been during our short captivity and when he’d visited my parents. I knew there was more to him than he let on and more than I’d thought in the past, but I wasn’t sure I had the strength to find out. Maybe one day.

Maximus was careful not to touch me, but when it was time for our first dance, we couldn’t avoid it anymore.

“Are you ready for the dance?” he murmured as the band waited for us to enter the dance floor. I nodded with a forced smile and took his extended hand. He held my hand loosely in his, giving me the feeling that I could pull away anytime.

With everyone’s eyes, I wouldn’t, and it wasn’t as if Maximus scared me. The demons of our shared past did. People watched our every move, and they continued to do so for a while. They wanted a huge scandal. The last one—Marcella marrying a biker—was getting to be old news, and they were hungry for fresh meat.

When we arrived on the dance floor, Maximus gave me a questioning look. I nodded, and he pulled me against him. I put my hand on his shoulder, and he put one hand on my back, not too far up and not too low. Our gazes met, and that felt more intimate than our closeness. It was almost as if I could see the guilt burning in his eyes and thus the reminder of what happened. I lowered my gaze to his nose, not wanting to remember. My eyes registered the dressing over his neck once more. He was moving a little stiffly as if his neck wasn’t his only injury.

The music began. Only now did I realize that Maximus and I had never danced together before. I had never even gotten the chance to rehearse the dance with Paolo. Maximus didn’t look like a man who could dance, at least not any standard dances. The dance clubs he and Amo had frequented didn’t require that sort of thing.

Maximus took the lead without any prompting and surprised me with his dancing skills.

“I asked my mother to teach me how to dance. I knew it would be required today, and I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of all these people,” he murmured. His voice was naturally low and very deep. It was a voice that exuded manliness but also a subtle danger.

I gave a small nod. I doubted anything could ever be more embarrassing than knowing that half of the people in this room had probably seen the video of Maximus and me. It was a thought I rarely entertained, and whenever I did, I wanted to crawl into a hole and never emerge. I couldn’t escape the cruel gossiping of our world unless I left, something I’d never even consider.

“You’re doing good,” I said simply. Maximus was much taller than me, so it wasn’t easy to find a flow, but his efforts shone through, and I didn’t feel as uncomfortable in his proximity as I’d thought. I was glad when we were out of the spotlight and returned to the table, though even without the lights directed at us, we were of course still the center of attention.

Mom leaned over to me and touched my hand, her eyes seeking confirmation that I was okay. I gave her a smile, which seemed to convince her.

Despite things going smoother than I’d expected, I could feel myself getting overwhelmed by the situation. My mind always judged people’s expressions, wondering what they were thinking and how much they knew.

It was exhausting.

I needed a moment to myself, some peace and quiet. My nausea had become increasingly worse despite the meds I’d taken. Nervousness and lack of food definitely didn’t help.

After ten minutes of convincing my mom that I didn’t need her support, I left the ballroom and strolled through the quiet corridors. In the past, I’d often enjoyed solitude. I loved being part of a family, but I also liked being alone. It wasn’t long before I heard steps, and two guys from Paolo’s circles headed through the corridor. Their parents were Captains like Paolo’s, and Dad had decided to keep them and their families invited for that reason.

Their expressions told me they weren’t happy with me. Luca’s attempts to keep the gossip down only led to colorful rumors that made the rounds among those who didn’t get the chance to see the video. And even some people who had seen the video chose to believe that the reason I had been with Maximus in a car in the first place was because we were having an affair. My “It’s okay” in the video only confirmed their ridiculous assumption.

“Whore,” one of them hissed as he passed me by, stunning me.

The other added, “Paolo’s lucky he didn’t marry your cheating ass.”

I wasn’t sure if I’d come up with a good comeback. I wasn’t fond of confrontations, but I never got the chance to figure it out. Maximus stormed past me, grabbed the first guy by the neck, and smashed him face-first into the wall. Then he grabbed the second by the throat and thrust his fist into his mouth. Blood spurted everywhere. I froze, my belly doing a roller-coaster ride that was bound to end in disaster. Silver flashed on Maximus’s knuckle, and I realized why his punch had left the guy’s face a bloody mess: he was wearing brass knuckles. Both guys sank to the floor and remained there, moaning and clutching their bleeding faces.

Maximus’s chest heaved, and every muscle in his body was ready for more violence.

I stepped to his side and briefly touched his bicep. Even through the fabric of his shirt, I could feel his heat and steely muscle. “It’s okay.”

I’d said those words before, and the way Maximus’s eyes flashed with recognition and regret told me he thought the same thing.

“It’s not,” he growled, not looking at me but at them. His eyes burned with barely contained rage and brutality. “Our Capo gave an order. If you don’t keep your fucking mouth shut, I’ll shut you up.”

The guys exchanged a look that spoke of fear. I didn’t pay much attention to gossip, but I knew what people called the Trevisan men: Butcher.

“Leave now and don’t come back. Next time I hear you talking shit, I’ll break more than your noses.”

They scuttled away, leaving a trail of blood drops in their wake. A blood smudge also covered the wall where one of their noses had been smashed.

I swallowed down bile as the nausea in my body increased.

“I don’t like this violent side of you,” I said quietly. Maybe it was hypocritical of me, considering I’d grown up in the mafia world. Every man in my life was involved in violent crimes.

“Then you won’t find much to like,” he growled, the remnants of aggression still swirling in his amber eyes. I’d always found them astonishing. They reminded me of toffee. If only they didn’t also remind me of the past…

I swallowed. I hadn’t considered what life with Maximus would be like. We’d live under one roof. We’d have to get along, even if we didn’t live a real marriage. Was he the raging kind of man? With a horrible temper? I’d made a choice for our unborn child and my family’s honor. My own happiness hadn’t been part of my considerations.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he glanced around. We were alone. “I’m trying to redeem myself. You don’t have to fear this side of me.”

Redeem himself? By marrying me?

I didn’t get the chance to ask him what exactly he meant because my younger sister Inessa entered the corridor. She didn’t know what had happened, for which I was eternally grateful. She had Mom’s honey-blond hair but Dad’s brown eyes, and how Aunt Aria always said “Mom’s old temper.”

Maximus gave her a nod, then he left us alone. He was probably glad to cut our conversation short.

“Did you fight?” she asked with huge, curious eyes.

“No, we didn’t.”

She pulled a face that made it clear she didn’t believe me. “He looks good in a suit despite the tattoos. Do you know how many he has and where?”

My cheeks heated while my thirteen-year-old sister stared at me without shame. “I don’t know.”

I probably wouldn’t find out anytime soon. I shivered. Images of what happened threatened to pop up. I fought them. I wasn’t sure what to expect of tonight. Our wedding night. I hadn’t dared think about it. So far Maximus hadn’t sought my closeness, and I had a feeling our wedding wouldn’t change it. I was relieved I wouldn’t have to push him away.

I was glad when the festivities were finally over. I could see in Mom’s face that she wanted to hug me, but she knew my body language well and could see that I didn’t want any affection. She only briefly touched my arm and gave me an encouraging smile before she allowed Dad to pull her to his side. He only gave me an encouraging nod. This probably hadn’t been the wedding Mom had envisioned for her firstborn. Not that the location and event planning had been lacking, but everything else was a fucking mess.

Everyone from Sara’s family hugged her tightly before she got into my Suburban with Flavio’s help. I would have helped her climb in too but he’d been quicker, still keen on keeping me away from his sister. It annoyed the hell out of me, and under normal circumstances, I would have told him off and reminded him that she’d be alone with me tonight. Ours weren’t normal circumstances, however.

Romero’s gaze met mine across the hood of my car. It wasn’t a warning like that of many fathers handing off their daughter on their wedding night would have been. It said “I trust you to redeem yourself,” which was worse than any threat could have been. If I’d had any intention of getting it on with Sara, this would have been the point when my dick would have shriveled. Sex with Sara was the last thing on my mind, though.

Our ride to the apartment was silent. Sara was pale, and she clutched her purse against her belly. There was the barest hint of a bulge when she was in a sitting position, a small reminder of what had happened and what awaited us in the future. I hadn’t thought of becoming a dad yet, but a small part of me was excited of having a kid, the other part worried of how its creation would influence how Sara saw the child. And what about me? Would I be able to forget the past when I looked at my kid?

A walking memorial of past sins.

During the elevator ride up to our apartment, I finally said, “I hope you like the place I got for us. Eventually, we’ll get a house for our family, but for now, this will give us enough room.”

Sara’s gaze snapped up to my face. She seemed to have been far away in her thoughts.

“Okay.” She gave a tight smile.

“You look very beautiful.” I fell silent. I hadn’t told her so far. She hadn’t bought this dress with me in mind, not that I thought she had any deeper feelings for Paolo, but it still felt strange that he had been the man she was supposed to marry when she bought her dress.

She looked down at herself. “I had to take it in. It was too big on me…”

She had lost weight. Everyone had noticed. I’d heard the concerned whispers of people who knew of her pregnancy. “Is it normal that women lose weight in early pregnancy?”

I had asked my mother because I’d worried about Sara and the baby, but my mother had assured me that it didn’t necessarily mean the baby didn’t get enough nutrition.

“I have bad nausea, but I take supplements. The baby’s size was okay during my checkup two weeks ago.”

I nodded. I hadn’t been involved in any of her checkups yet. The elevator came to a stop, and I motioned for Sara to step out first, then I led her to the door of our place. I unlocked it and invited her in.

Mom had helped me make the place more homey in the past few days. Before that, it had been bare of decorations, cushions, duvets, and whatever else women liked. Now, there were even picture frames on the walls.

Sara looked around. “It’s nice.”

“Come on, I’ll show you your bedroom,” I said, then wondered if she maybe wanted to share a bed with me. Bullshit. Not after what had happened. Her expression didn’t betray her emotions. She merely looked exhausted and a little squeamish.

“It’s the primary bedroom. I put my stuff in the guest room, so you’ll have an en suite and a walk-in closet. I don’t need that.”

Surprise flashed across her face as she scanned the lavender-colored duvet and pillows on the bed. It was a color Sara often wore, so my mother had bought linens and towels in that color.

“This is your home too. I don’t want to be the reason you sleep in the guest bedroom,” she said.

“I’ll be fine. It’s only for sleep.”

She pursed her lips. I wished I could read her mind.

She slowly walked closer to the bed. “Thank you. I’m really exhausted.” I nodded again because while I’d never been a man of many words, Sara turned me into a near-mute most of the time.

She cleared her throat, then threw me a hesitant look over her shoulder. “Can you unfasten the back of my dress for me? I can’t reach all of the buttons.”

I glanced at the intricate line of tiny buttons following her spine. “Sure.” I stepped up behind her, and for a moment, I wondered how this night would have played out under different circumstances.

Sara tilted her head up and sideways so our eyes met, then she flushed and quickly looked away. I reached for the first button, making sure I touched my wife as little as possible. When I reached the halfway point, Sara stepped forward and gave me a tight smile. “It’s fine. I can take it from here.”

I backed out of the room. “Sleep well. If you need anything, I’m next door. I’m a light sleeper.”

I had almost closed the door when she said, “I have another scan tomorrow morning. Do you want to come?”

“Yes,” I said, allowing myself another look at her in her dress. She was beautiful, even looking exhausted and a little sad.

She nodded but didn’t look at me. I closed the door, then walked into the kitchen. I needed a drink. I’d had very little during the festivities, but now I needed liquor to numb myself. I awkwardly pulled my jacket off. My shirt stuck to my back. I knew it wasn’t just with sweat. One of the scars had popped open when I’d kicked ass today. It was why I hadn’t taken my jacket off despite how hot I’d felt.

“You’re bleeding.”

Sara’s voice made me turn around. She stood in the doorway, still in her dress.

“Do you need help?”

I shook my head. To be honest, I probably did, but I didn’t want to burden Sara with the task of having to help me take my shirt off. “It’s fine. Nothing I haven’t handled before.”

“What happened?” she asked quietly as she poured herself a glass of water.

I considered lying, but I wanted her to know that I was trying to make up for the past in every way possible. “I burned my back when I blew up a laboratory of the Bratva with Jabba’s brother inside.”

She blanched. “Oh.” I wasn’t sure what kind of reaction I’d expected but definitely not that. She smiled tightly. “If you’re sure you don’t need my help, I’m going to sleep.”

“Go,” I said with a tight smile of my own.

I downed a glass of bourbon before I headed to the second bathroom. After almost fifteen minutes and lots of cursing, I was finally out of my shirt. Thirty minutes later, I went to the guest bedroom freshly showered and with new burn dressings on my back, and sank down on the bed. It was smaller than the one in the primary bedroom. Considering my size, my feet would probably dangle over the edge half the night. I hadn’t wanted to buy new furniture and had forgotten that I wouldn’t get to enjoy the big bed in the primary bedroom.

Everything about today felt surreal. This nonexistent wedding night was a fitting ending to it. I hadn’t expected there to be any kind of intimacy. Fuck, just the idea of it raised sweat on my forehead. The memories of Sara’s crying, motionless body under mine still haunted my nights.

I’d never been a good sleeper, but now my nights were miserable. Lying in bed at night wasn’t the welcome relaxation of the past. Sleep was now the door to my memories.

I stretched out on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what Sara was doing now.

I fell asleep after tossing and turning for an hour and listening to every little sound from Sara.

A scream woke me. I jumped out of bed and rushed out of my room and into the primary bedroom. Turning the lights on, I rushed toward the bed. Sara sat up, face ashen. Her brown hair fell in wild strands into her face. I must have woken her from a nightmare. Her eyes were on me, but the terror remained on her face. It hit me that I had probably been the center of her nightmare, and here I was, thinking I could console her. I was probably the last person Sara wanted near her right now.

She blinked and rubbed her face. “I had a bad dream. Sorry I woke you.”

I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure what to say. I took a step back. “Do you need anything?”

“Just keep the lights on. I’ll be fine.”

I nodded, then turned and left the room. I went into the kitchen and grabbed the bourbon bottle I’d left on the table. I took a swish, then grimaced. I only drank when I went out partying, definitely not in the middle of the night. This was as far from a party as it could be. A pity party at best. I pushed the bottle away. Alcohol wouldn’t make anything better.

There was no way I could fall asleep again after this. It was only three in the morning, and I couldn’t leave Sara alone, so I was stuck in this place.

I went to the gym room I’d installed in the former office and hit the treadmill, sprinting at high speed for almost an hour until I was drenched in sweat and feeling marginally better—except for the insistent burn on my back.

I tossed my soaked shirt away and sat on the bench, taking a couple of swigs from my water bottle.

The sound of retching followed by flushing reminded me of my new living situation. I rose from the bench and considered going to see if Sara needed anything, but then her expression from last night crossed my mind, and I sat back down. I was the last person she wanted by her side.

It was strange to enter the kitchen where Maximus sat at the table. He had a cup of coffee in front of him, nothing else.

“Morning,” I said to break up the uncomfortable silence. “Is there breakfast?”

Maximus glanced at the fridge, then rose to his feet. “There are eggs and toast in the fridge. I can’t cook, so I didn’t prepare anything. Plus, I don’t usually eat breakfast.”

I pursed my lips as I approached the fridge. “You don’t eat breakfast?”

He shook his head. “I’m not hungry that early. I eat around lunchtime.”

“Oh, all right. I can grab something on the way to the appointment. I don’t mind.” I didn’t want to prepare eggs just for myself.

“We can leave now if you want.”

I nodded. It was still early, but being in this apartment with Maximus felt strange. I grabbed a chai latte and a yogurt parfait on the way but only finished the former before we reached our destination.

Maximus and I entered the doctor’s office together. I’d been there for checkups three times so far. Mom had accompanied me to every appointment, but today, Maximus, the father of my child, was by my side.

I stretched out on the examination couch with my belly exposed. Maximus hovered beside me, looking uncomfortable. I pointed at the chair beside the couch. He sank down, dwarfing the chair with his tall and muscled frame. My own heart was beating quickly from nerves. I’d felt detached during the last exams, not willing to really accept the pregnancy yet. Maybe today, I’d finally be ready to be excited. I’d always wanted children and imagined how magical being pregnant would be, but due to the circumstances, I hadn’t been able to enjoy the pregnancy at all. It saddened and frustrated me equally.

The doctor put the ultrasound sensor on my belly and quickly found the amniotic sac. She explained what she saw so Maximus understood, but she fell silent when the baby came into view. She pushed the sensor harder into my belly and moved it around, but her expression became tighter by the second. I wasn’t sure what the problem was. Was it too small? I hadn’t lost any weight this last week despite my nausea and the wedding stress.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Maximus glanced between the doctor and me with a frown.

“Give me another moment,” the doctor said quietly as she kept moving the sensor. She rose to her feet. “I’m getting my colleague.”

A few minutes later, the other doctor who had never treated me sat beside me and took the ultrasound sensor. Several tense minutes passed before she exchanged a look with my doctor, who cleared her throat and gave me a compassionate look. “We can’t find a heartbeat.”

I blinked, not sure what they were saying. “Last time, the heart was beating.”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “But it’s not anymore.”

“The baby is dead?” Maximus asked tightly.

I stared at him in horror. “Dead?”

I didn’t understand. None of this made sense. “But how? Why? When?”

“It’s difficult to say. My guess is that the heart stopped about a week ago, judging by the size of the fetus.”

“But why? Why didn’t I feel anything when it died? Shouldn’t I have known?”

How could I not have noticed that the baby—my baby had died?

Because you tried to ignore the pregnancy. Because you weren’t happy about it.

“It’s called a missed abort and happens more often than one would think. Often, the fetus has an undetected gene defect or heart defect and isn’t viable.”

“I’m going to be sick,” I pressed out. Maximus grabbed the bin and held it out to me. The moment I bent over it, vomit shot out of my mouth. I kept retching even when my stomach was empty. Someone handed me a wet towel and a glass of water. I wiped my mouth and took a few gulps. “But I still have morning sickness. The baby can’t be dead.”

“It takes a while for the hormone levels to go down, so the body still displays all signs of a healthy pregnancy.”

“Do you want a moment?” the other doctor asked us. I realized she was asking if I wanted to be alone with Maximus.

I shook my head, tears welling up in my eyes. “I need my mom.” I was almost twenty-one, but I felt like a little girl who could only be consoled by her mother’s warm touch.

“Do you want me to call her?” Maximus asked. He looked so composed, and it made me unreasonably angry.

I nodded, my gaze locked on the silent ultrasound screen, then it slid down to my bulging belly.

“Liliana, can you come over to the apartment? Sara lost the baby.”

Sara lost the baby. I lost the baby.

A baby I didn’t think I wanted. But then why was it hurting so much? Why did I feel as if someone had cut my heart open and poured in acid?

“What’s next?” Maximus asked the doctor. I hadn’t even noticed that he’d ended the call. How much time had passed?

“There is the option of waiting for the natural miscarriage or a surgical solution.”

A surgical solution? This wasn’t a problem that needed to be solved. This was my dead baby.

I closed my eyes, feeling utterly numb. The last time I’d felt this way was when I’d conceived the baby. Was this fate’s version of irony?

“Do we have to decide today?” Maximus asked. He handled the situation as if it was business as usual. On the one hand, I was glad I didn’t have to deal with anything, but I also grew angrier.

“No, we can give you a prescription to manage the possible symptoms.”

I blanked out the words that came after. I pushed off the couch and stood on shaky legs as I straightened my clothes.

“I want to leave,” I whispered. I couldn’t stay another moment in the presence of the silent ultrasound.

Maximus lightly touched my back to guide me outside, but I flinched away. I couldn’t bear his touch now. I could hardly bear being in my own body. I just wanted to forget it existed.

I reached for my belly, then stopped myself and clenched my hand into a fist.

Our ride home from the appointment happened in utter silence. I wasn’t sure what I felt. I had killed so many and witnessed even more deaths. It never bothered me, but somehow, finding out the heart of our unborn child had stopped beating made me feel… off. I’d thought I’d become part of Sara’s pregnancy today, and instead, I’d witnessed the end of it.

Sara’s expression was frozen, her gaze empty as she stared ahead at the road.

I had never been good at consoling others, and I knew Sara wouldn’t appreciate it if I tried. She didn’t want my touch or my words. Her body language made that clear.

When we arrived in my—our apartment, Sara headed for the couch and plopped down, still with a look of numbness.

I stood in the living area, unsure what to do. When the doorbell rang, I quickly opened it, and my relief upon seeing Liliana was unmeasurable.

She barely glanced my way as she rushed toward Sara. The moment Sara saw her mother, her face crumpled, and she let out a sob that seemed to be torn from the depths of her soul.

Goose bumps raised the hairs on my arms, and I clutched the door handle even tighter, glad for its solid nature.

Liliana sat beside Sara, who fell into her arms and hugged her tightly. The sobs and cries leaving Sara’s body stirred up emotions in me that I was unequipped to handle. Seeing Sara’s anguish, I realized how much I, too, had been looking forward to becoming a father.

Liliana began crying too.

I backed away without a word and closed the door, leaving the women alone. There was nothing I could do. Liliana’s bodyguards were outside in the corridor, so I knew both women were safe. With a nod at them, I left.

I picked up my phone and called Amo. “Can we do some sparring?”

“Now?” he asked confused.

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Amo’s brows snapped together when he saw me in the changing room. “What happened?” Was it that obvious? I stared up at my best friend from my position on the bench. “Sara lost the baby.”

Amo sat beside me, concern in his eyes as he patted my shoulder. Neither of us was big on gestures or emotional chitchat. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Maximus.”

I nodded because I was too. “I thought—” I shook my head before I could voice my thoughts. I thought having a child would help Sara and me build a working marriage. But now?

What bound us? Only a vow built on feelings of duty.

“Where’s Sara now?”

“Her mother is with her. Sara doesn’t need me there,” I said without a hint of emotion.

Amo tilted his head, his eyes narrowed in thought. Sara was his cousin. Of course, he was worried about her well-being too. “She’s been through a lot. So have you.”

I shook my head and rose to my feet. “I’m fine. Let’s do some sparring. I need to move my body.”

Amo and I sparred for close to two hours. “I can cancel the meeting with Maddox. He can update me tonight at dinner.”

I shook my head. “No. I promised to help my parents with the shelter this afternoon. Go.”

Amo nodded, then grabbed his gym bag and left. In the past year, we’d done more emotional chitchat than in our entire lives before then. Fuck. I missed the easier days.

I picked up the phone and messaged Liliana. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t message Sara.

How’s Sara doing? Should I come home?

We’re on the way to our place. Sara wants to spend a few days with her family until she’s come to terms with the situation.

I wasn’t even surprised. Hell, I was almost relieved. I definitely wasn’t the person who could take care of Sara in a situation like this. We didn’t know each other well, and the baggage from the past still weighed too heavily on our shoulders. And how the fuck could I possibly console a woman who lost the baby inside her?

She loved her family. They were what she needed—not a man she had no choice but to marry because of our world’s moral rules.

Okay. Let me know if Sara or you need anything.

You should go see your family too. It’s not a good idea to be alone right now.

I was surprised by Liliana’s concern for me. It was hard for me to grasp that she didn’t hate me for what had happened, but Liliana and Romero were good people, especially in our world.

I decided to head home right away instead of picking up my stuff in my apartment. Primo still lived with my parents when he wasn’t traveling for business, so I could borrow some of his clothes.

The moment I parked in the driveway on my parents’ property, the door swung open, and Mom came rushing out. I’d thought she’d still be at work in Gianna’s gym. To be honest, I’d hoped she was. Her emotionality might trigger emotions in me I had no intention of experiencing.

She hugged me tightly. Excited barks and yowls sounded from the dogs in their cages. Mom had closed the screen door so Bacon and the other house dogs were stuck inside and couldn’t greet me.

“Who told you?” I asked quietly. “Liliana?”

“She called me to make sure I was there for you when you arrived. I raced here.” She pulled back and cupped my cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Max. I can’t believe how much you and Sara have to go through. It’s not fair. Not fair at all. Yesterday was a day of joy and then this.”

“Yesterday was many things but not a day of joy, and today only confirmed what I’d known from the very start: building something good on a rotten foundation will end in destruction.”

Mom lowered her hands as I straightened. “One horrible incident won’t determine Sara’s and your future. You two will have a beautiful family one day. I’m convinced of it.”

Mom’s convictions were based on wishful thinking. She thought because she wanted something for me out of motherly love, it would become true. Life didn’t work that way. Fate had a nasty temper and loved to kick me in the balls.

“We can’t have a family because there’s no way Sara will ever want to be with me.”

Mom let out a small sigh. “It’ll take time, but you two will find your way to each other.”

A day of hard manual work would keep the thoughts away and maybe make me exhausted enough that I’d have no trouble falling asleep tonight.

“I’m here to help with the new fencing,” I said firmly, turning my attention to the dog shelter on my right. After a flood of new arrivals from a secret dog fighting club, with several dogs that needed to be in solitary confinement because of their behavioral issues, the shelter was getting too small. Finding new homes for the dogs was often close to impossible. Today, we would build another open area where the more social dogs could live in a pack, plus create a few more solitary cages with enough space to allow the nervous and confused dogs space to run.

After a moment, Mom dragged her concerned eyes away from me and motioned to the fencing material on the bed of Dad’s gray truck. I knew he was still busy with a client and would be home later.

Mom shivered. She was only in gym clothes, and the temperatures were around the freezing point today. I ran hot, so the cold barely bothered me, but even I needed to put another layer over my T-shirt.

I headed into the house, and after greeting Bacon and the four other dogs, all of them pit bulls, I headed upstairs to Primo’s room and grabbed a sweatshirt and a jacket that looked as if a lumberjack owned it from his wardrobe. I set out to work right away. With a pickax, I pummeled holes into the half-frozen ground so we could set the fencing posts in concrete.

“We have soil drills,” Dad grumbled when he joined me in the late afternoon. Mom was inside. She quickly realized that her concern annoyed me and had gone in to cook a hearty comfort meal. She didn’t enjoy cooking but enjoyed feeding us, so she always put something somewhat delicious on the table.

I looked up from the five-inch-deep hole. It was the third hole I was working on. Progress was slow, but with every swing of the axe, I felt a little more like myself.

Dad met my gaze. His amber eyes searched my face, curious, but not filled with overwhelming concern or even pity. Dad wasn’t an emotional man, not even during torture. I was glad for his stoic calm now.

“Then we’ll use the pickax. Hand me one,” Dad said as he rolled up the sleeves of his thermal jacket, revealing his many tattoos. I too had more than a dozen tattoos, but Dad still beat me to it.

He got down on his knees a few feet beside me and started working on a new hole. Soil and small stones flew everywhere as he smashed the axe into the ground. I continued my own work, enjoying the feel of sweat and dirt on my skin.

“There was a point in my life when I thought nothing good would ever happen. Then I was given your mother. Fuck. I didn’t deserve her. I probably still don’t, but I knew she was my only shot at happiness. It wasn’t easy. The circumstances were shitty, and your mom probably shouldn’t have forgiven me, but she did, and I count my blessings every day.”

“Our situations are different.”

“Indeed. You had no choice in what happened. I chose to be a bad person.”

I rammed the axe with even more force into the ground. “Mom loves you. You love Mom. Sara and I don’t know each other enough for any real feelings. Unless you count contempt, which I’m sure she’s feeling for me.”

“Love didn’t just happen to your mom and me. It took time. Give it time, Maximus. Sara is now your wife. She’ll be a part of your life, and it’s your responsibility to make the best of it for her sake too.”

I shoved to my feet, annoyed that even Dad wanted to discuss my emotions. Fuck. I didn’t need to hear any of this. “The only connection Sara and I had died in her womb. So don’t tell me what I can or can’t do.”

Dad stayed on the ground. “You are a Trevisan, and I know you won’t give up, even if you can’t see it now.”

I gritted my teeth and got back down on my knees and picked up the axe again. We worked in silence after that, but Dad’s words of confidence kept replaying in my head. I wanted to fight for a happy life for Sara. It was the least I could do.

I stayed the night at my parents’ but really wanted to stay there even longer. I didn’t want to return to Maximus’s and my apartment. It didn’t feel like home, and now it probably would never feel that way. No tiny feet would fill the space with their sounds, no bubbly baby laughter. Nothing but oppressing silence.

But people would start talking if they found out I had moved out only one day after our wedding. I lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling. I’d been in bed since Mom had taken me home yesterday. I didn’t have the energy to get up.

A knock sounded.

“Sara?”

“Come in,” I said. My voice sounded whispy and raw. I wasn’t sure how long I’d cried. Eventually, I’d fallen asleep on Mom’s lap.

Mom came in, carrying a tray with food, her face full of concern. She put the tray down beside me on the bed. It was filled with my favorite buttermilk waffles, fresh berries, and maple mascarpone dip.

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”

Mom touched my hand, which lay motionless beside me. “You have to eat.”

“Why? I’m not eating for two anymore,” I pressed out. My throat clogged up, and my eyes burned with new tears. I wasn’t sure how my body could still produce a single tear. I’d already cried so much.

“Oh Sara, love. I wish I could take this pain from you. It’s one I’d hoped you’d never experience. I know how crushing it is.”

I searched Mom’s face. “Have you experienced it?”

Mom sighed, her eyes teary. “Twice, one at seven weeks, one at eight weeks.”

“You didn’t say anything yesterday.”

“I didn’t feel like it was the right time to share my own story with you.”

I took Mom’s hand in mine. “Did you blame yourself?”

Mom paused. “I think many women worry that they did something wrong, and that’s why it happened, but most of the time, it just happens because the pregnancy wasn’t viable. Do you blame yourself?”

I looked away. I’d never felt more guilty in my life. More tears filled my eyes as I considered all the times I’d wished I wasn’t pregnant from a horrible event and how often I’d worried that the baby would remind me of what happened. What if the baby had felt so unwanted it had simply perished? I closed my eyes and let out a deep sob, my heart aching so fiercely I wasn’t sure I could take another moment of it.

“Oh, Sara, please don’t think you are to blame. Our thoughts can’t end a viable pregnancy. Nothing you did led to this. Absolutely nothing.” She squeezed my hand tightly.

I couldn’t open my eyes because I knew Mom’s gaze would be full of love and understanding, and I simply didn’t feel worthy of it right now.

“Now that it’s over, I realize just how much I wanted this baby and already cared for it.” I shuddered, holding back another sob because I felt like it would wreck me.

Mom stretched out beside me and stroked my head. “Let it all out. It’s okay. I’m here for you.”

Mom held me for a while before I felt ready to shower and get dressed. Getting naked was the hardest because my slight bump was even more obvious that way. Mom gave me some of her clothes, a loose dress that hid the signs of a pregnancy that was no more.

“I’m sure Maximus won’t mind if you spend a few days here.”

“I should go back. We’re married after all.” The empty ring of my voice scared me.

Doubt reflected on Mom’s face. It was obvious she didn’t think it was a good idea. Neither did I. “If you need me, I’m there for you. You can call me any time, Sara. I don’t think you should be alone right now. You can sleep at the apartment and spend the days helping me clean out the attic.”

I nodded, glad to have something to keep me busy.

“Should I let Maximus know he can pick you up after work?”

“Yes, please do.” I should have done it myself, but I couldn’t talk to him now. I wasn’t even sure why I felt angry with him and his lack of reaction. He didn’t have any sort of connection to the baby. Yesterday should have been the first time he would have really been part of my pregnancy…

Mom and I spent all afternoon cleaning out the attic, where boxes filled with old clothes and toys were piled high. Many of them held childhood memories of my siblings and me. Maybe I would have chosen a few of our old toys for the baby one day.

“This was a bad idea,” Mom said when she saw me clutching an old stuffed bear that played a lullaby. I shook my head. “No. I want to feel this pain. It’ll be a part of me now. I better get used to it.”

Mom looked down at her dust-covered hand and swallowed hard.

Maximus picked me up at seven in the evening. I had ignored the message he’d sent me yesterday, but I knew Mom had kept him updated. When I got into his car, I expected him to be mad because I’d just ghosted him and slept at home without even telling him. He only regarded me with a blank face for a couple of heartbeats before he turned his attention back to the street and drove off.

“My mother packed us a container with her chicken soup. It’s delicious and satisfying due to the tagliatelle she always adds to it,” I said. The warmth of the soup seeped into my lap, and I clung to the container.

“That’s nice of her. I could have gotten takeout. If you don’t feel like cooking in the next few days, I have a few great places where I used to get food when I stayed in the city.”

“I’ll cook. It keeps me busy.”

I stared straight ahead even though Maximus tried to catch my gaze a few times. From the corner of my eye, I could see his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

“I’m sorry,” I said when we pulled into a parking spot in front of the townhouse after about a minute in the car. If Maximus hadn’t picked me up after work, I would have walked the short distance.

He turned off the engine, then turned to me with an aghast expression. “What are you apologizing for?”

I shrugged. I wasn’t even sure. I simply felt so guilty in so many regards that the words had slipped out. Maximus shook his head. “You have no reason to be sorry.”

Maybe he was relieved that I wasn’t pregnant anymore. I searched his amber eyes for a hint of his true feelings. “Are you happy?”

His mouth opened, but he didn’t say anything, utter shock on his face. “Fuck, happy the baby’s dead?” He closed his eyes and slammed his fists on the steering wheel, causing the vehicle to honk. I watched mutely as his rage slowly took form on his face and the tension in his body.

“Fuck no!” He shoved the door open, then slammed it shut so the truck rattled. Outside, he let out a roar, then punched the side of the truck with both fists. Passersby scuttled away, obviously scared by his rage. Maximus was an imposing sight at any time, but when he got mad, it was truly frightening. If our neighbors hadn’t been terrified yet, they would be now.

I swallowed. I shouldn’t have asked.

I allowed him his rage. I wondered if rage was something I should feel too. But rage at whom? Nature? Myself? Right now, I just felt empty.

Eventually, he approached my side and opened the door for me. I peered up at his reddened face, at the pulsing vein in his throat. He blew out a breath. “I shouldn’t have lost it like that,” he gritted out, not even looking at my face. “But your question…fuck, Sara.” He met my gaze. “Of course, I’m not happy.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

After seeing his angry outburst, I was relieved. Knowing that Maximus wasn’t left unaffected by our baby’s death made me feel better. He held out his hand and helped me climb out of his truck, then he took the Tupperware from me. Side by side, we walked up the stairs to the townhouse, then took the small elevator up. My gaze drifted to the bruises on Maximus’s knuckles from punching the vehicle. Right above them, on the back of his hand, the word nemesis was inked into his skin. The god of revenge. I wondered if that was how Maximus saw himself.

He followed my gaze to his damaged knuckles and shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

I wondered if physical pain would help with the emotional anguish I felt. “Does it help?”

Maximus stopped, his dark brows snatching together. “Does what help with what?”

“Does the pain make you feel better?”

He glanced down at his bruises. “I suppose it does for a short while.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You are not like me, Sara. I don’t want you to cause yourself pain. If you need to unleash anger, unleash it on me.”

I shook my head. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go to bed.”

“What about the soup?” Maximus held up the Tupperware container.

“I’m not hungry. It’s for you.”

When I finally lay in bed, I released a shaky breath. I lightly touched my belly despite the deep ache I felt, reminding myself that it wouldn’t grow. How long would it take until this pregnancy would end? I didn’t want a procedure, but the wait for the inevitable would be soul-crushing.

In the week since our wedding, I’d made sure I worked the day shift so I was there at night when Sara was home. I barely slept at night, so I heard Sara right away when she called my name. I was so stunned to hear my name that I rushed over into her bedroom in only boxers. Usually, I made sure to wear at least a shirt and sweatpants in the apartment when she was around.

Sara perched on the edge of her bed, trembling. A small bloodstain was visible on the linen behind her, and blood also dampened her white silk pajama pants. She stared at me with wide, shaken eyes. “I need my mom. Can you call her?” Her phone was on the floor beside her feet. Judging by the trembling of her hands, she’d probably dropped it.

“Sure,” I said as I crossed the room in two long strides and picked up the phone. I quickly called Liliana who would be over within five minutes.

“What can I do?” I asked the moment I hung up.

Sara stared up at me. Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I don’t want to flush it down the toilet. I can’t.”

The tears began flowing down her pale cheeks. I had trouble understanding what she meant until it finally dawned on me.

“Don’t. We can bury it.”

She shook her head slowly. “I can’t see it. I just can’t.” Sobs wrecked her shoulders, and I just wanted to go to her and console her. Fuck, I wanted to kneel by her feet and press my head against her belly. I wasn’t even sure why.

“I’ll handle it,” I said. I’d dealt with so much blood and worse in my life, so I would do this for Sara.

For a long time, we just looked at each other. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but a silent understanding passed between us.

The lock turned.

“It’s me!” Liliana called.

“Bedroom,” I called back.

She rushed in, then briefly froze when she saw Sara on the bed before she hurried over to her and helped Sara get up. Romero briefly glanced in, but then he retreated with a heartbroken expression. I stayed where I was, only watched as Liliana helped Sara into the bathroom. More blood trailed down Sara’s legs now, tinging her pants red. I turned away when Sara got undressed and listened to the sound of the shower being turned on. The water didn’t drown out Sara’s sobs or Liliana’s words of consolation.

I peered up. Sara huddled in the shower with her mother by her side as water spilled down on both of them. Sara’s eyes were closed, and her head leaned back. The water made it hard to see her tears, but the pain on her face was like a punch in the gut. Blood and water mingled on the marble surface of the shower.

I waited silently for two hours, bearing witness to Sara’s pain, physically and mentally, and wondered if this was my punishment. I fucking deserved it, but Sara didn’t deserve any of this misery. It made me incredibly mad, so fucking angry at the world.

Eventually, I stared at the floor because my rage at the universe became like a roaring fire that threatened to burn everything down.

When the sound of the water turned off, I looked back up. Liliana had wrapped Sara in a towel and helped her toward the bed. I took gauze from the bathroom cabinet and carefully picked up the remains of our baby, wrapping them up. I briefly closed my eyes because they burned. The warm fog probably triggered my eyes. I got up and carried the gauze into my bedroom, where I kept a beautiful antique ivory jewelry box with intricate flower carvings Mom had given me for this occasion. I hadn’t understood when she’d given it to me a couple of days ago, but now I did. I opened it and put the gauze inside, then closed it. I stared at the beautiful box, glad it was white and not made from wood like a coffin.

“Fuck,” I breathed and stared up at the ceiling.

A knock sounded, and Liliana poked her head in. “Sara would like to bury… bury the baby now.” Her face was tearstained too. She glanced from my face down to the box in my hands.

“Is it in there?”

I nodded.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Where does Sara want to bury it?”

“She doesn’t know.”

“There’s an old oak in the woods behind my parents’ house. I used to go there when I wanted to be alone.”

She smiled. “That sounds like a peaceful place. I’ll ask Sara.”

“Do that.” My voice was croaky, and my throat felt dry.

Thirty minutes later, Liliana and Romero helped Sara into my truck. She was pale and shaky, but she refused to see a doctor. Romero and I exchanged a glance. After the burial, we’d have to convince her to see our doc. It was still dark outside when we started the drive. I’d called my parents and told them we were coming to the house and why, then hung up before Mom could try to console me.

Sara and Liliana sat in the back while Romero sat in the front with me. He held the jewelry box in his lap.

When we pulled up the driveway, Mom and Dad waited on the porch with gaslights as it was still dark.

Together, all of us walked toward the oak tree. When we arrived, the sun rose over the treetops, lighting up the spot where I planned to bury the box.

I grabbed the shovel from Dad and began to dig into the hard ground. Soon, I had to use the pickax to make progress. Nobody said anything as I worked on the hole. Eventually, when I deemed it deep enough that it would be safe from being dug up easily, I straightened. Romero still held the box.

“Can I?” Sara asked, motioning at the box, her chin wobbling. Romero handed it to her. She peered down at it, then up at me with anguished eyes. She took a step toward the hole and almost broke down. I grabbed her arm to steady her and helped her the rest of the way. She fell to her knees in front of the hole and slowly lowered the box into it. She touched her fingertips to the lid and closed her eyes. Then she looked up at me with a small nod.

My fingers on the shovel tightening, I picked up the first scoop of earth and began to fill the hole while Sara knelt on the icy ground. When I was done, I released a deep breath. Liliana touched Sara’s shoulder. “Come. You’ll catch a cold.”

Sara gave her a look that made it clear she had half a mind to lie down beside the grave and not get up.

I clenched my fingers around the handle of the shovel.

“Come, love,” Liliana said again, and this time, she managed to pull Sara to her feet. Slowly, Sara dragged her gaze up from the grave, and our eyes locked. My grip on the shovel tightened even more at the deep pain in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

I gave a terse nod.

“I think Sara will spend the night with us,” Liliana said.

I had expected it, so I nodded again. I could feel Mom’s eyes on me, but I didn’t return her gaze.

“You can have our spare car,” Mom said. “The keys are in the ignition. It’s the red truck.”

I was relieved I wouldn’t have to give them a ride home. I could tell Sara wanted to be with her parents.

Romero, Liliana, and Sara left together, but I stayed beside the grave, supporting my weight on the handle of the shovel. The cold had penetrated my body. I couldn’t even feel my fingers or toes anymore, but I didn’t want to leave yet. It was utterly silent around us—no chirping birds, no barking, and no sounds from the nearby road. It was as if life had ground to a halt at that moment, and it seemed only fitting.

Mom approached me. She was wrapped in her thickest winter coat and UGG boots, and still shivered due to the unrelenting cold. She touched my hand. “Let’s go in. I’ll make us an Irish coffee and warm up some cinnamon cookies.”

Dad pried the shovel from my cold fingers. “Listen to your mother.”

“I should head back home. I have to work in two hours. The ride will be excruciatingly long in rush hour.”

“You won’t go to work today. Luca will understand,” Mom insisted.

I laughed bitterly. “I’m an Enforcer, Mom. Do you think a bit of flesh and blood will bring me to my knees?” My heart clenched at my words, but I kept glaring at my mother, willing my words to become true.

Mom shook her head with a sad smile. “I birthed and raised you. I held you when you cried when you were little. Don’t think I don’t see when you’re breaking inside. If this was how you just described it, you wouldn’t have buried it the way you did. Lie to yourself if it helps you, but I can see the truth!”

I gritted my teeth and looked away. I turned my back on the grave, shoving my fingers into my pant pockets.

Dad gave me a stern look. “I’m still the Head Enforcer, and I’m telling you, you’re not working today. End of story. I’ll handle Luca.”

I stalked back toward the house. The sound of steps crunching told me my parents were right behind me. When I entered the house, warmth flooded my body at once. Bacon pressed up beside me, wagging his tail gently, not his usual boisterous self.

After kicking off my shoes in the mudroom, I headed into the kitchen and sank down on a chair. Bacon leaned against my thigh, and I petted his warm back and head.

Mom came in shortly after me. She didn’t say anything and began to prepare an Irish coffee and the cookies. I watched silently. Mom sat across from me and put her hand on mine. “Things will get better.”

“You believe in Karma, Mom. Maybe this is Karma’s way of paying me back. Nobody would argue that I deserve it.”

Mom gave me a stern look. It was a look that made even Dad pause. “You deserve happiness. End of story.”

It was our first Christmas as a married couple. It should have been our first Christmas as soon-to-be parents and a soon-to-be family. Instead, we were two almost strangers pretending to be more than that.

It’d been three weeks since I’d lost the baby. Three weeks that had opened up a world of pain to me I hadn’t thought possible. Worse than the sadness over what I’d lost were the rare moments when I wondered if maybe there was a good reason for it, that it would make it easier for all of us to forget what had happened. Those brief moments always sent me into a cruel downward spiral of guilt.

“Can you take a look at the Brioche buns for me?” Mom asked, tearing me from my thoughts. I nodded, opened the oven, and reached for the baking sheet. I let out a hiss and jerked back as searing pain shot through my fingers.

Mom immediately grabbed my hands and put them under cold water. “You need to use pot holders!”

“I know,” I said. The door flung open, and Dad, Flavio, and Maximus entered the kitchen, ready for a fight.

“What happened?” Dad inquired, scanning the kitchen as if attackers were hiding somewhere.

Maximus came toward me, his face tight with concern, and sheathed the gun he’d drawn. To see him this ready to defend me was nice.

“I was lost in my thoughts and burned myself,” I explained when he scanned my red fingers that had begun blistering.

“Do you have burn salve?” he asked Mom, who sent Inessa to get it.

Maximus searched my eyes with worry and suspicion.

“I was lost in my thoughts,” I repeated. He had been constantly watching me since my comment that I wondered if physical pain would help with the anguish I felt.

“Okay,” he said. I wasn’t sure if he believed me. The number one reason I’d never hurt myself was that I knew how hard Mom and Dad would take it.

After Mom had treated my wound with burn salve and unnecessarily dressed it in gauze, we finally gathered around the dining room table. The lights from the Christmas tree illuminated the room, and the sight of the many presents made Alea and Inessa squeal in delight.

Maximus had agreed to celebrate Christmas morning with my family. I wouldn’t have minded if we’d split up for the festivities, but I hadn’t brought it up. Maximus had been trying to help me since the miscarriage, and I didn’t want to offend him.

“Is this the first time you’ve celebrated Christmas morning away from your family?” Mom asked Maximus curiously as we all loaded up on food.

Maximus handed the plate with the smoked salmon over to Inessa who passed it along with a look of disgust. She hated fish. “Yes, I always made sure to be home from work by the time Christmas morning rolled around.”

I bit my lip, wondering if I should have suggested splitting up. I didn’t want to be the reason Maximus missed his family on Christmas. He didn’t need to feel obligated to me. I was happy as long as I was with my family. He met my gaze. “But I think marriage is a good reason for new habits.”

I gave him a small smile, then focused on my own plate. I hadn’t taken much. I still had to force myself to eat most days. I rarely felt true hunger, but I didn’t want to let Mom’s filet Wellington with venison loin instead of beef go to waste. It was too delicious for that. Mom always turned our breakfast into a luxury brunch, which lasted forever and stuffed you to the max.

Later, we settled around the Christmas tree. I dropped on the comfy sofa, letting Inessa and Alea storm the presents. They were still less restrained regarding this part of the holidays.

When you grew older, some of the magic of Christmas got lost, and after what happened this year, I didn’t feel any magic at all.

Maximus reached for an envelope perched atop a pile of presents and handed it to me. I gave him a surprised look. For some reason, I hadn’t expected him to get me a present. The past few months had been such a whirlwind that I hadn’t thought about buying him anything. I’d already bought the presents for my family in September as I always did because I preferred to be prepared. I really hoped it was only a Christmas card so I wouldn’t have to feel bad over not getting him anything.

I took the envelope and opened it. The card was a photo of a collection of vases and tableware from my favorite pottery artist. Her pieces were incredibly beautiful and excruciatingly expensive.

I had exactly one mug from her, and I only used it on Sunday to enjoy my favorite cup of Earl Grey tea. I opened the card, and my mouth fell open. It was a voucher for a private pottery course with her. In the past, she’d done pottery group courses, but back then, I hadn’t been confident enough in my abilities to book a course. When I’d finally felt like I might be worthy to do pottery in the same room as her, she’d stopped giving them. I supposed she’d become too successful and didn’t have the time anymore.

“Someone told me that you do pottery and that this is your favorite artist, so I asked her to spend a whole day with you and teach you.”

“She agreed?” I asked, aghast.

“I didn’t threaten her, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said firmly. “But money can buy almost anything.”

I hadn’t done any pottery since I’d lost the baby, and even before then, after the capture, I’d only tried it twice and given up both times, practically fleeing the pottery wheel. When I’d done pottery in the past, I’d allowed my thoughts to roam free as my fingers formed the soft clay. I had daydreamed and run through imaginary scenarios of my future. Letting my thoughts run free now seemed hazardous and foolish.

Maximus regarded me silently.

“Thank you,” I said with a smile. It was a great gift, one the old Sara would have been ecstatic about, and hopefully future Sara would one day be too, but current Sara was terrified.

Maybe this could be my way of reclaiming the old Sara?

Maximus and I were invited over to his parents to celebrate the next day. I hadn’t seen them since the small funeral, nor had I visited their home or the old oak tree.

Snow covered the ground as we pulled up in the driveway. Barks rang out as dogs gathered at the fences, some of them jumping against the mesh. Their hot breath created clouds of fog around their wide-open maws. I lost count of how many dogs there were. The last time I’d been here, I hadn’t even noticed them. Everything had been deadly quiet.

Maximus opened the door for me and helped me climb out. He always did, but usually immediately released me once I was safely on the ground. This time, he held my hand and squeezed.

“Are you afraid of dogs?”

“I’m not afraid, but I have a healthy dose of respect, especially of dogs like this.” Most of them were huge and muscly beasts, with sharp teeth and scarred faces. They had been in dog fights, a fact that made me even warier of them.

“Most of them have a brutal past. It takes lots of work to help them overcome their fears and aggressions.”

“I admire you for it. Have there been dogs you couldn’t help and had to put down?”

“I personally haven’t have to do it yet. But Mom had to kill two dogs when I was seven and Primo was five. He was playing with me on our playground when two dogs managed to break through the old fence. I was up on the monkey bars when they both pushed him to the ground. I jumped down to help him just when Mom came running out of the house. One pushed me down and sank its teeth into my shoulder. Primo and I tried to protect our faces and throat because that’s where they can do the most damage. Mom had a gun but because the dogs were on top of us, she couldn’t shoot them. To this day, I don’t know how she summoned the power but she wrangled the dog who was on top of Primo to the ground and slit its throat before she stabbed the dog who was on top of my back several times.”

I stared at Maximus in horror. I hadn’t noticed a scar on his shoulder, but I had never seen him naked.

“She didn’t hesitate. Both dogs could have easily turned on her and killed her.”

“I would have gladly died if it meant saving you and your brother,” Cara said. She stood on the porch behind us, rubbing her arms against the cold. She wore a beautiful teal colored cashmere set, long flowy pants and a long-sleeved shirt.

“That’s what mothers do,” I said with a small smile, even though the words rekindled the deep ache I felt.

Cara came down the three steps and loosely wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “Come in. It’s cold. Dinners ready.” She steered me inside and I was glad that she’d taken the incentive and bridged the distance between us. I’d worried things would be awkward because of the past.

Primo sat at the table but got up to greet me with a brief hug. I gave him a grateful smile for not walking on eggshells around me. The table was loaded with bowls and small serving plates filled with tortilla wraps, pickled onions, roasted corn, salsas, guacamole, queso fresco and many more things.

“We always do tacos on the second,” Cara said as she motioned for us to sit down. Growl gave me a nod in greeting. Then he took a dutch oven with steaming meat out of the oven.

“Dad always prepares the Carne Asada.”

“He’s always been a perfectionist when it comes to his taco beef,” Primo said with a smirk.

Maximus chuckled.

“It’s perfect,” Growl said as he put the beef on the table. It smelled delicious.

“Let us be the judge,” Maximus said.

This was so different from how we celebrated at home that I didn’t feel homesick, which was great. I took a bite from my taco and smiled. “It’s really good.”

I wasn’t a huge meat eater, but this was comfort food at its best.

“This is the only thing Ryan can cook, but it’s utter perfection,” Cara said. I always stumbled over the name Ryan when Cara used it. Everyone else called him Growl because his voice was like a growl due to an injury to his vocals cords, which was still marked by the scar at his throat.

The atmosphere was relaxed and easygoing, surprising me.

“We always take a walk through the forest after dinner to help digestion,” Cara said. “Do you want to join us or would you like to stay inside with Maximus?”

“I’ll join you, but I’m not sure I have the right clothes for a walk.” I was in a satin dress and wool tights. My wool coat was pretty but not designed to withstand below zero temperatures for long.

“I can give you something of mine to wear if you don’t mind.”

I followed Cara to the master bedroom. We didn’t talk as we rummaged in her wardrobe until she pulled out a thermal shirt, thermal jacket and thermal pants. “I know it’s not as pretty as what you wear now but it’ll keep you warm.”

I shrugged. I changed into the clothes then went out into the hallway where Cara waited for me. Scratching and soft whines came from the two doors down the hallway.

“Maximus’s dog Bacon and our four dogs are locked in there because we weren’t sure if you were okay with dogs.”

I flushed. “Maximus has a dog?”

Cara pursed her lips. “Yes. He’s had him for three years.”

“I didn’t know. And he left him here because of me?”

Cara touched my shoulder. “He left him here because Bacon is used to living in a house with a big yard. He’s not a city dog.”

“I made Maximus move to the city.”

Cara shook her head with a kind smile. “He made the choice because he wants to make it work between you.”

Heat rose into my cheeks.

“What are you doing up there? We’re being roasted in our clothes down here!” Primo shouted.

“Let’s not make them wait,” I said before I actually had to talk about the state of my marriage. Cara and I headed downstairs. Growl wrapped his arm around Cara as we strolled through the dark forest. Maximus and Primo carried big torches that illuminated our surroundings. The soft crackling of the fire gave me a sense of comfort.

I wondered if I should bridge the subject of his dog. He’d never mentioned him to me. I felt bad that he’d left him behind to move to the city for me.

“Your mom mentioned Bacon,” I said casually.

Maximus’s face remained stoic, the flickering lights from the flame accentuating his strong jaw and prominent cheekbones. “He’s happy here. And I visit him at least once a week. He wouldn’t be happy in the city. Even though he’s my dog, he’s always been part of our family and has always lived in this house, so it’s not like he’s not still home.”

I nodded. I was glad that Maximus hadn’t taken the dog with him. I was wary of dogs, had always been since one had thrown me to the ground by accident when I was a little kid. Still, I hated the thought of being the sole reason for their separation.

“Maybe one day if we ever have a house outside the city, we can get a dog,” Maximus said.

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t imagine moving farther away from my family. I couldn’t imagine ever feeling like Maximus was my family. Not after losing our baby…

My heart clenched as it always did when the memory of my loss came uninvited.

“Aren’t you coming?” Growl asked, turning around to us.

I had ground to a stop without realizing it and so had Maximus.

“Let’s head left,” Maximus said. His parents who had been about to go right stopped. My gaze sought the old oak that the light of the torch barely reached. Now I knew why Maximus didn’t want to go right.

“I’d like to go right. Alone.”

Maximus stepped closer to me. The heat from the fire banished some of the cold the sight of the oak had created in my inside. “Are you sure? Do you want me to come with you?”

I hesitated. My first impulse was to say no. “I don’t want to talk. I just want to…” I wasn’t really sure what I wanted. To some people, it was probably incomprehensible why I’d insisted on a burial for a fetus that didn’t even qualify as a “real” baby yet. As if sadness could be measured by weeks.

“I’m the last person who wants to talk about feelings, trust me,” he murmured, and together we made our way toward the oak tree. As we came close enough for the flames to illuminate the ground in front of the tree, my breath halted. A beautiful wood-carved cross sat atop the small grave.

“Did you…?”

Maximus nodded. “When I was younger, I spent many evenings carving. It’s been a while but I did the best I could.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you for not ridiculing my wish for a grave.”

Maximus frowned down at me. “Every loss needs an outlet. I hope it helps you cope with our loss.”

Our loss. I had rarely considered it as such. That Maximus felt that way made me feel better. I didn’t ask what he did to cope. We had already been talking more than I’d intended.

Silence fell over us, and I allowed myself to feel the full intensity of my sadness, something I’d fought every day in the past three weeks.

One year later

I glanced at my watch. Flavio should arrive with Sara any moment. Since Sara had returned to college last semester to further pursue her degree in art history, either Flavio or Romero had picked her up in the afternoon and taken her home in addition to the bodyguard who watched her while she was there. Too many bad memories were connected to me picking her up. I wasn’t usually home at the time, as I’d started to work a lot again, but today was our first wedding anniversary. One entire year as husband and wife, at least on paper, but we were roommates, not more. I doubted we even qualified as friends. We rarely spent time together and when we did it was often loaded with awkwardness. I was fairly sure Sara didn’t enjoy being near me and so I tried to stay out of her way as much as possible. The two darkest days of her life were directly connected to me, so I couldn’t blame her for wanting some distance.

We only had dinner together about twice a week. The rest of the time, she ate with her parents and siblings. We did what was necessary to keep up appearances but not more. When I’d suggested we go to dinner for our anniversary, she had agreed at once. But even that was probably only for appearance’s sake.

I blew out a breath, annoyed at my train of thoughts. I glanced at my watch again and reached for my phone in my pants pocket, ready to call Flavio. The hum of the elevator made me stop.

The beep of the code being entered into the keypad sounded, and the door opened. My phone rang as Flavio and Sara entered the apartment.

I gave Flavio a nod in greeting and Sara a brief smile before I answered the phone. It was Maddox.

“We have a lead on where they are,” he said as a form of greeting.

I froze. “Jabba?”

“Yes, and the bald one, Yevgeny or what was his name.”

“Where?”

Flavio came closer, his eyes eager.

“In a warehouse in Newark. We don’t know the exact location yet but should be able to narrow it down soon.”

Sara was frozen in the dirtroom, in the process of removing her coat.

After more than a year of searching and questioning Bratva assholes, I finally had a hot trail for the men who had captured Sara and me. I’d killed many of Jabba’s acquaintances and family members, but he’d always escaped capture. He’d gladly pushed everyone into the path of the oncoming bus, the filthy coward. He wouldn’t escape this time.

“Send me the details. I’m coming as fast as I can. We’ll find him.”

“You should wait for backup. I’m too far away to join you in time. Romero is on his way too.”

“I’ll handle it,” I clipped. “Send me the details.” I hung up. Jabba would be mine today even if I had to search every fucking warehouse in Newark by myself.

Sara watched me with wide eyes, still wrapped in her scarf and one arm in her coat. “Our attackers?”

I nodded. She swallowed hard.

“I’m coming too,” Flavio said immediately.

“No. You have to watch Sara.”

Flavio stepped in front of me. “Let someone else do that.”

“Last time someone other than you watched her, she was kidnapped, remember?”

Flavio shook his head, but he finally stepped out of my way so I could grab my guns and the bag with my knives and torture utensils.

I grabbed the door handle and turned to Sara.

“I know today’s our anniversary…”

She gave me a shaky smile. “It doesn’t matter. Go.”

“I’ll make them pay for what’s been done to you.”

For what they made me do…

Sara nodded then she turned away and removed her coat.

I left and as soon as I was out of the apartment, I sent Amo a text. I wanted him by my side. Then I began running, I wanted to get to Port Newark as soon as possible. The marine terminal was huge and it would take some time to find the right warehouse. What if another Made Man found them first and decided to give them a quick end. I wanted to be the one to capture and kill them, and I’d make sure it wasn’t a quick ending.

I took my old Ford truck instead of my new truck. It reeked of wet dog and the remnants of blood. I only ever used it for shelter or torture jobs.

My blood was rushing in my veins at the prospect of getting my hands on Jabba and his men tonight. Nothing else mattered. I’d get revenge for Sara. I had bought her an anniversary gift which was in a box on the kitchen table, but today’s revenge would be the true gift, one that I was sure would mean far more to her.

We had never discussed what happened, never discussed my search of our capturers. We’d let silence rein.

I broke every speeding law as I headed toward Port Newark, where Maddox suspected the Russians. My old Ford truck groaned as I drove it to its limits. Four warehouses were on my list, and after searching two and torturing the people I found there, I knew Jabba was in the third. I parked my truck in an area that couldn’t be seen from the front door of the warehouse. No windows faced this way, so the chances of anyone spying me from inside were zero.

I couldn’t let those assholes escape. I might never get another chance.

Just when I got out of my truck, Dad and Primo came running. I wasn’t sure where they’d parked. Dad motioned for us to get down beside the truck.

“We need to scout the area first to make sure this isn’t a trap,” he said.

I shook my head. “They are inside. I don’t want to give them time to escape. And the assholes I tortured weren’t holding any information back, trust me.”

“They aren’t aware of our presence—unless this is a trap, which we need to eliminate as an option. We won’t turn this into a suicide mission.”

I gritted my teeth. Hadn’t he listened? Dad was the Head Enforcer, so I had to follow his commands, even when his orders didn’t sit well with me. Or at least I had to pretend I was following them…

Dad narrowed his eyes at me, and I groaned. “All right. As long as I get to kill them in the end, I suppose I can wait. Should we split up?”

Dad nodded. “You two go together. I’ll be on my own.”

“That’s not a good idea,” I said immediately. I didn’t want to have Primo with me. He would play the voice of reason, but I just wanted to get inside.

“Bullshit. Let’s make this as effective as possible and each go alone. I don’t want to waste more time than necessary scouring the area.”

Dad regarded me closely as if trying to determine if I was up to something. Eventually he nodded. He handed Primo and me pagers. “Give us an update if you find something. We’ll meet here in fifteen.”

I took the pager then turned and hurried around to the back of the warehouse, not giving Dad the time to change his mind. I stuffed the pager inside my pants and took my gun instead before I approached one of the smaller side doors of the building. It wasn’t secured by a keypad, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t protected. Maybe it gave off a signal as soon as it was opened. Holding my breath, I pushed down the handle and opened the door about an inch, waiting briefly for an alarm that didn’t come.

I stepped inside and closed the door without a sound, then listened for any noise. The low hum of male voices carried over to me. I followed the sound toward a few crates and huddled behind them. Peering over them, I saw Jabba, Yevgeny, and a third man I didn’t know at a table, playing cards as if they had no bother in the world. My anger exploded in my chest. I was ready to ambush the three on my own.

A hand clamped down on my shoulder. Tension shot through me, and I whirled around, grabbing the arm to break it when I came face-to-face with Romero.

“It’s me,” he murmured.

I released a tense breath and let go of his arm. “Maybe announce yourself next time. I could have killed you.”

“An attacker could have killed you too. You weren’t vigilant. Let’s not be stupid because we want revenge. If we get killed by those men, we definitely won’t avenge Sara.”

I nodded. He was right. I had to think before I acted, even if all I wanted was to become a mindless, bloodthirsty monster and destroy those men.

They soon began sniffing their own drugs and got more and more boisterous.

A sound behind us made Romero and me whirl around with pointed guns. Amo, Dad, and Primo were behind us. They came to our side. Dad’s expression made it clear that he wasn’t happy with me, but I knew he would have shown little restraint if someone had hurt Mom.

At a sign from me, we attacked the drugged Bratva assholes. It took immense control not to kick their asses right away. I wanted to take my time and let the effects of the cocaine wear off a bit. When Jabba recognized my face, he grinned dirtily. I almost lost my shit. I’d make him cry and beg later.

We took all three to my family’s dog sanctuary. When Amo and I carried Jabba to one of the kennels at the end of the premises, his frightened gaze took in the snarling dogs jumping in their cages. He probably thought I’d let the dogs have a go at him like the Bratva often did with enemies, but these dogs had seen enough blood in their lives. Besides, I would do far more damage than them. I’d take my fucking time and make it worthwhile.

When I threw Jabba to the dirty ground of the kennel, he scuttled to the back and sneered at me. I could see the fear in his eyes, but he was trying to put on a show. People like him often did until you peeled away every layer of their charade and revealed them for what they really were: weaklings.

“I hear you married sweet Sara? I’m honored that I was present when you consummated the marriage in advance. Has the sex gotten any better?” He cackled.

I stormed forward and grabbed his throat. “If this is your attempt to provoke me into rash actions, it won’t work. I’ve dreamed about torturing you for a year. I won’t rush anything tonight.” I swallowed hard because being so close to him, it actually took more restraint than I’d thought not to crush his throat right away. “Sara and I lead a happy marriage, so thank you for setting it up. I would have never gotten her without your help.”

I straightened before Jabba could see the lie in my eyes. Luckily, he didn’t know me well. But Amo’s face and that of Romero who had joined us too, showed me they knew the lie. I avoided their eyes. “Romero and I do the torture alone today.”

Amo nodded. “If you need me, I’ll be in the house.”

Primo and Dad brought the two others into neighboring kennels. “Let’s start with him,” I said, nodding toward Yevgeny. “I want Jabba to see what awaits him.”

Romero and I left Jabba’s kennel and went to the one beside him that harbored Yevgeny. Dad handed me my bag with the torture utensils that I’d left in the truck. I unfolded it and hung it up on a hook at the top of the kennel. The instruments gleamed beautifully in the artificial light of the gas lamps. Knives, scalpels, pliers, screwdrivers, needles, hammer, cheese grater, and many more things I’d come to like over the years of working as an Enforcer.

Soon, screams filled the night. Sweat trickled down my face and back. The cold of the outside hardly registered as I worked with Romero to avenge Sara.

We didn’t kill Yevgeny. After two hours of torture, we decided to move on to Jabba. He’d watched for long enough. He tried to put up a tough front, but one look into his eyes told me he was wrecked by terror of what was next—as he should.

Jabba fought against his restraints when I grabbed his arms and pulled him toward a hook that hung from the ceiling of the cage. I fastened the restraints around his wrists to the hook and pulled Jabba into a standing position.

I stepped very close to him and bared my teeth. “I’ll enjoy every second of this.”

Romero came up beside me with pliers in his hand. “I never had a chance to use these.”

I motioned for him to go first while I grabbed a small drill.

Jabba screamed when Romero began with the first toenail.

My heartbeat slowed. Maybe tonight wouldn’t bring me peace or absolution, but it would get me as close as I could ever get.

We tortured the three Bratva assholes until the sun rose. Jabba took his last breath without ever seeing the beauty of another sunrise. When I returned to the house, cold and covered in blood but feeling a sense of peace I hadn’t in a while, Mom, Dad, and Amo awaited me.

Mom handed me a strong coffee, which I took upstairs to the bathroom. I showered for a long time, but not because I felt the need to wash off proof of what I’d done. This time, I would have loved to bask in their blood for days if that were possible, but I needed to wash away the remnants of the fury and bloodlust. I wanted to see Sara as soon as possible.

When I came downstairs, only Mom was there. “Romero returned home. Amo, your dad, and Primo are cleaning the kennel. You should lie down for a few hours. You have to be exhausted.”

“I need to see Sara.”

Mom got up and touched my cheek. “She’s with her family. And trust me when I say that you should wait a bit before you face her. One shower doesn’t wash away hours of what you’ve done.”

I knew she meant it figuratively because there wasn’t a hint of blood on me anymore. “I’ve done this before. I’m fine.”

“No, this was personal in a way that affects you more than you want to admit. Take a few hours to rest. Sara will understand.”

I decided to listen to my mother and lay down for two hours. When I woke, I texted Romero, telling him I would pick up Sara in about an hour.

When he wrote back that she was at Barnard, I was stunned. For some reason, I had thought she would wait for my return, eager to hear about the revenge I’d sought on her behalf. That she had gone to college as if it were a day like any other didn’t sit right with me.

Gritting my teeth, I went downstairs, glad to find Amo still around. Together, we hit the gym after breakfast, and I listened to Amo’s decision to divorce his bitch of a wife, Cressida, to be with the woman he truly loved. It was a good distraction from my own thoughts.

When I returned home in the late afternoon, the two bodyguards in front of our door told me that Sara was already there. I found her in the kitchen stirring her delicious lasagna soup in a big pot. She was humming an unfamiliar tune and wholly immersed in the task. I cleared my throat, and her relaxed demeanor evaporated.

“Oh, you’re back,” she said. Was she happy to see me?

“I would have come earlier, but your dad told me you were at class.”

“I had courses.”

“I thought you might not go.”

She frowned as if that didn’t make sense. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.” She filled a bowl with steaming soup and set it down on the table. My present was still there, unopened.

“They got what they deserved. I made them pay tenfold. I hope that makes you happy.”

She stared at me in confusion. “Happy? Because they’re dead?”

“Are you not? I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I wanted them to be gone so they couldn’t hurt anyone ever again. But it doesn’t make me happy.”

I wondered if she wasn’t happy about the revenge I’d taken because there was one more person who needed punishment in her eyes: me.

Even if I hadn’t done it out of my own free will, I had been the one who’d hurt her.

She sat across from me with a bowl of soup for herself.

“Happy belated anniversary,” I said, trying not to let my frustration show, though it was hard. Why couldn’t she see that I had done this for her? So she could move on?

“Oh, yes.” She glanced at the parcel. “Happy anniversary. I didn’t think we’d celebrate.”

I laughed bitterly. “We have no reason to, you’re right, but I got you something. You don’t have to open it if you don’t want to.”

She flushed and reached for the package, then opened it. Inside was a tea cup from the pottery artist she liked, plus a voucher so she could buy whatever else she liked. “Thank you.”

“You can put it with the voucher I gave you last Christmas.”

She still hadn’t used that one either.

She regarded the cup for a moment before she met my gaze. “Thank you for this, and for last night.”

I gave a terse nod. We ate in silence after that, and I wondered where we’d go from there. Maybe I’d foolishly hoped getting revenge would wipe the slate clean, that it would mean a new start for our marriage, but Sara’s reaction made it clear that it wouldn’t. Maybe I should stop thinking it ever would and just return to living the life I had before Sara.

The dress I’d picked for the wedding of the year—between my cousin Amo and the daughter of the Camorra Capo, Greta—was looser than I’d liked. It was a beautiful dark red dress with a cowl neck, flared skirt, and shimmery red flowers on the skirt. The waist was slim, but it was still too loose for me. I had bought the dress only four weeks ago but I must have lost more weight than I thought in the meantime.

A knock sounded.

“You can come in.”

The door opened, and Maximus poked his head in. He wore nice light gray chinos and a white dress shirt. He wasn’t the suit type, though I actually liked how he looked in it. His eyes slid along my body. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

His eyes drifted from my protruding collarbones to my sharp elbows and thin hands. I shifted. I knew my weight loss was obvious. Mom had already asked me about it. The wedding guests today would notice too. I hated to draw attention to myself. If this wasn’t such an important social event, I would have found an excuse not to go. “I wished I’d picked a dress with more coverage.”

Maximus immediately tore his gaze from me. “We need to go.” The tension in his voice was unexpected. I grabbed my small dark-red purse and followed him out of the apartment. He didn’t say anything on the way to church, and neither did I. I’d often felt exhausted in the past few weeks, too exhausted to make an effort with Maximus. I knew my lack of nutrients was the reason behind it too.

When we arrived at church, Maximus put on his jacket. As Amo’s Made Man, he was expected to wear it. Of course, that also meant I had to sit in the front row. My family, even if closely related to Amo, sat in the second row since the first row was already full. I smiled briefly at Marcella, trying not to look at her huge belly. She was due soon, and the sight of her pregnancy felt like a stab every time. I was happy for her—I truly was—but the pain I felt whenever I saw someone pregnant or with a baby was still intense. I’d avoided my cousin because of it, and I was sure she knew. She gave me a kind smile as I walked past her to sit beside Valerio, who greeted me with a grin. “Any bets on who’s going to cause a scandal?”

I chuckled. That was typical Valerio. “I think there’s a lot of potential gathered here today.”

Valerio nodded.

To be honest, I was glad for any kind of distraction as long as people didn’t pay attention to me. Mom had assured me that talk about Maximus and me had died down, and I didn’t want it to start again.

The music began playing, and a hush fell over the crowd. I turned toward the bride. Greta was gorgeous in her dress, and her limp wasn’t noticeable at all. Maximus had encouraged me to spend time with her now that she would be living in New York, and maybe I would. Her trauma was different from mine, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t bond because of it.

When Greta reached the front, her gaze locked with Amo, and my belly tightened at the sight of their blatant adoration and love for each other. This wasn’t a marriage of convenience. This was pure love. I’d never expected a love marriage, but the marriage Maximus and I currently led was far less than I’d hoped for. It was mostly my fault. I avoided him as much as possible and never joined him when he helped out at the shelter on weekends. He even suggested we could spend time doing other things, but I’d pretended I needed to help Mom with my younger sisters or study for college. Neither was true.

He eventually stopped asking. The only time we spent together was in the morning when we both had coffee and in the evening after Maximus got home. Maybe fifteen minutes altogether every day. Maximus had dinner at work because I told him I ate with my parents and siblings, which wasn’t the case. I simply wasn’t hungry in the evenings.

The last wedding I’d attended had been my own. I didn’t have many happy memories about it.

Witnessing Amo’s and Greta’s interactions throughout the festivities, I felt a deep longing inside me. A longing for a love of my own. I wasn’t delusional; it was highly unlikely that Maximus and I would ever love each other, but I wanted a different kind of love in my life. The love of a child.

Just thinking about my wish made me feel guilty and anxious at the same time. My eyes sought Maximus. He was talking to Matteo. I had spent most of the wedding chatting with Isabella and Aurora.

Would Maximus agree to a baby?

And then another question popped in my head. How would we even do it? Maximus and I didn’t even share a bed. We hadn’t shared any intimacy since we’d married, and the one intimacy we’d shared before was the reason I was anxious to consider being with him on a physical level.

Maximus hadn’t given me any reason to fear him in our marriage, but I knew memories from the past would undoubtedly emerge if I was intimate with him.

Yet I didn’t want to use medical help unless necessary. I wanted this baby to be conceived the natural way. This time, I wanted to do everything right.

Maximus glanced my way. I flushed because I wasn’t sure how long I’d been staring at him. Concern crossed his face. I forced a small smile to assure him I was fine.

From an outsider’s standpoint, Maximus was an attractive man. I didn’t doubt that many women wouldn’t have any problems jumping in bed with him. If I was being honest, I had been attracted to him when he’d picked me up from college before we got kidnapped. But I had never allowed myself to see him that way again—from fear of opening old wounds.

Now I’d have to face those fears if I wanted to become a mother and try to see Maximus as the man I’d been attracted to again and not a memento of our past trauma.

Sara kept throwing glances my way during our weekly shared dinner. I wasn’t sure what the problem was. I finally met her gaze when I couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “What’s going on?”

She flushed. “Nothing.”

I put my fork down and sat back. I was done with this. Our marriage had never been good, but since I’d killed our attackers, it had become disastrous. “The way you’re looking at me is not nothing.”

Was she angry because of how I’d handled the revenge on Jabba and his men? I’d killed another one of the assholes involved in the kidnapping only a couple of weeks ago, but again, Sara’s reaction to the news had been lackluster. “I didn’t think you’d want to be present during the torture. They got what they deserved. Your dad and I made sure of it.”

She grimaced. “I know. You were very busy with revenge.”

“I thought you wanted revenge.”

She stood with a look of disappointment. “You got your revenge. For you, it’s over. But for me, it’s not.” It was obvious she wanted to end the conversation, but I couldn’t take all these unspoken accusations any more. It was slowly killing me.

“I’m here,” I growled as I stepped in her way. “You can do to me whatever you want. Fuck, I can give you an array of tools you can use to torture me and get the revenge you deserve.”

Sara’s eyes brimmed with confusion and shock. She touched her lips with her fingertips, obviously stunned into silence by my words.

“Just say the words. I’m yours. If causing me pain helps you heal, do it. Just fucking do it. Nothing’s worse than this fucking charade of a marriage we’re in.”

She swallowed hard and looked away, her dark brows pulled down in a harsh frown. “I never wanted to cause you pain.” She tried to walk past me again.

“Why not?” I stepped in front of her, so fucking tired of tiptoeing around the elephant in the room. “I hurt you, so now you should hurt me.”

She tilted her head up and met my gaze. It was the first time we really looked each other in the eyes for more than a fleeting moment. Tears shone in her brown eyes. My stomach tightened at the sight. Nothing hit me harder than the sadness in my wife’s eyes. It was the fucking worst torture in the world, so whatever pain Sara wanted to cause me would never measure up to one look from her. “I’m not angry with you.”

Rage flooded me. How could she say that? “What a load of crap. I’m fucking mad at myself, and you have to be too.”

“Don’t tell me what I’m supposed to feel!” she hissed, her face flashing with fury. I straightened in surprise. I’d never seen Sara furious. She was always poised and gentle-minded, the very opposite of me. “Maybe your anger is the problem, but don’t make it out to be my issue. I’m not angry with you.”

“But you can’t stand my presence either,” I accused. Maybe I preferred her anger. It was better than Sara’s usual indifference.

She let out a sigh but didn’t contradict me. “If you really want to help me heal, help me become a mother. I want nothing more than a baby.”

I was completely taken aback by her request. Since we’d lost our unborn child and could barely be considered husband and wife, I’d put any thought of us becoming a family out of my mind. My life had centered around brutal revenge.

“You want a baby from me?”

“You’re my husband.”

Ahh, yes. She wanted a baby from her husband, not really me. Because I wasn’t the man she wanted at her side, just the man she had to tolerate.

I worried about what it would do to Sara if we lost another child. What if she had another miscarriage? And that was only the tip of the iceberg of my worries. “Sara, what we have can hardly be considered a marriage. We don’t talk, and we rarely see each other. You avoid me as much as you can. Do you really think this is an environment for a child?” Not to mention that we didn’t even share a bed. Fuck, did she realize I might have to touch her if she wanted a baby?

“We married because I was pregnant. We didn’t have any kind of relationship back then either. Nothing changed.”

“Because we didn’t try to change it,” I gritted out. I had tried in the beginning but eventually gave up. It wasn’t my place to push Sara, even if our broken marriage frustrated me.

Tears glistened in her eyes. “All I want is a baby. Will you help me?”

How could I say no?

“If that’s what you really want, then I’ll help you in whatever way you need.”

She swallowed and released a small breath, then tugged a hair behind her ear and gave me a nervous look. “I ovulate in two days.”

It took me a moment to understand what she meant. Wow, she really waited until the last moment to bridge the subject. “How do you want to do it?” I asked matter-of-factly. I tried to keep my emotions out of it.

It was an absurd question. But I couldn’t imagine Sara wanting to conceive in the natural way. Fuck, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to try. For our marriage, a sterile in vitro fertilization or whatever it was called would be best.

She swallowed. “I’m doing ovulation tests so when my hormone level spikes, it would be necessary for us to be intimate. Maybe one time will work like last time.” She fell silent.

Like last time. I didn’t want any of our future sexual encounters to be anything like that nightmare. I wanted to make up for the shit show she’d suffered through her first time. But for her, sex with me was a necessary evil she’d endure to get what she wanted: a baby.

I couldn’t even blame her. Why would she want to be intimate with me for any other reason? I hadn’t dared imagine being with Sara like that again and had stopped my mind every time it had wandered there when I’d seen her in pretty clothes.

“You really want to try the natural way?” I asked tightly. I hadn’t even seen her naked or in underwear since our capture. Having sex was quite a leap for us.

Her cheeks reddened, and she looked away. I hated it when she avoided my eyes. “If you can do it…”

I wasn’t sure what she meant by it. “If that’s what you want.” I didn’t think it was a good idea. What if it ripped open old wounds that hadn’t even fully healed yet? Sara had already lost so much weight. I worried what this would do to her.

She gave a terse nod. “It is.”

“Then we’ll do it.”

“I have another request. I know it’s a lot to ask for, but if things go as planned, it might only be for a very short time.”

I raised my eyebrows in confusion.

“Can you please not be with any other women as long as we have to be intimate?”

I clenched my jaw and turned sideways, glaring at nothing in particular.

“I know it’s a lot to ask—”

“Dammit, Sara,” I muttered, turning back around to her. I couldn’t fucking believe her. “That’s what you think of me? Yes? That I’ve been fucking other girls all this time?”

She blinked up at me and swallowed hard. “We weren’t intimate…and I know you and Amo used to be wild.”

I nodded grimly. “Used to be.” I raised my finger with our wedding ring. “Before I put this on. Maybe our marriage is hardly that. Maybe it’s mostly for show, but my parents taught me to honor marriage so that’s what I’m doing.”

“I’m sorry for insinuating you weren’t faithful,” she said quietly.

I gave a terse nod. I was done with this conversation. “Is there anything else you want from me?”

“No.”

“Then everything’s settled. In two days, we’ll be intimate. Hopefully, you’ll get your baby so we won’t have to repeat it.”

She left the kitchen and headed for her room. Soon after, I heard retching and the flush of the toilet. I sagged against the kitchen counter and closed my eyes. If the mere thought of sex with me already made her feel sick, trying to get her pregnant was going to be a nightmare.

My belly clenched violently, but only bile left my mouth. I sat back on my haunches and closed my eyes. Gathering the courage to ask Maximus for a child had taken a toll on me. His reaction had been the one I’d been dreading. It was obvious he didn’t want to touch me again. I still remembered his disgusted expression in the cell afterward. Was it that? Did the idea of touching me again disgust him?

I sighed. In the aftermath, especially in the first few weeks after the incident, I’d been disgusted by my body. I’d barely been able to touch myself, not even to clean in the shower. I felt better now, most days at least, but today, the memories from that day echoed particularly loud, and I couldn’t silence them.

I wanted children. That was my motivation. Even if the process to get them would be hard, I’d go through with it.

Maybe I should have broached the subject of having children sooner. After a year of my silent retreat from him, Maximus must feel steamrolled by my sudden request. I considered going back to dinner to apologize, but gathering the courage to talk to Maximus and then throwing up had taken a toll on me physically and mentally, and I simply couldn’t muster up the energy.

I hadn’t been hungry all day, and now, I felt positively nauseated by the idea of putting food into my mouth, so I couldn’t even return to finish my meal.

Maximus didn’t come to see me. He never did. I wasn’t sure if he simply didn’t care how I felt or if he preferred to pretend everything was fine. Maybe it made things easier for him. I wasn’t even sure I wanted him to try consoling me. We still felt very much like strangers. And he was probably angry because I’d suggested he slept with other women. But it had never even crossed my mind that he might not. He had been a very sexually active man before our marriage, and now he didn’t have any sex at all. My guilt increased. Maybe Maximus had been so clipped because I’d hurt his feelings with my words. He always appeared so strong and unfazed that I often forgot that he had feelings too. I needed to talk to someone.

I picked up my phone and called Isa. She picked up after the second ring.

We had never been super close, not like good friends. We had been too different, but since my capture Isa and I had begun spending more time with each other. Even if our experiences weren’t quite the same, she too had experienced trauma through captivity. I admired the way she handled it: with her usual dose of sarcasm and stubbornness.

“I hope you have a good reason to call. I’m currently writing a very satisfying murder scene,” she muttered in typical Isa style.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I can call—”

“Bull,” she interrupted me harshly. Then continued in a softer voice. “I can hear you’re upset. Do you need me to come over?”

I swallowed, tears welling up in my eyes. “Talking to you on the phone is good.” Isa had more freedom than many mafia girls of her status, but since her kidnapping, her dad, Matteo, had definitely upped her protection a lot. I didn’t want to cause her trouble.

“Okay. What happened?”

I told her of my conversation with Maximus. I hadn’t mentioned my decision to ask Maximus for a child with anyone. She was silent for several heartbeats before she said, “Maximus is a tough guy, but even tough guys have things they can’t brush off. That day probably still haunts him, so he might be anxious about taking the next step in your marriage.”

I bit my lip. Hearing Isa confirm that I had ignored Maximus’s feelings made me feel horrible.

“And maybe it would be a good idea to work on your marriage first before you try to be intimate.”

Deep down, I knew Isa had a valid point, but the idea of waiting years—because considering the state of our marriage, that wasn’t an unlikely timeframe to fix our problems—for a child increased the ache in my chest to unbearable dimensions.

“You’ll be a great Mom,” Isa assured me after a while. “But do you really think you can go through with having sex with Maximus? You haven’t been intimate with him since that day. Maybe you should at least try to build up to sex. Kiss and fool around a bit. Learn to feel comfortable with his touch and enjoy your body again.”

How could she sound so poised and grown-up when she was three years younger than me?

“That’s why I’m glad we’re chatting on the phone. You’d laugh at how red my face is.” I sighed. “I don’t think that would work. I don’t think it’s something Maximus wants.”

“Have you asked him?”

“No,” I whispered.

“Then you can’t know. Let me ask another question… what do you want? Apart from a baby.”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure I can ever be with him without being reminded of that day.”

“Not if you don’t try. You have to take action. Replace the bad memories with good ones.”

“Is that how you’ve handled your kidnapping?”

“I don’t see my capturers on a daily basis.”

“But now that there’s peace and that Amo and Greta are married, you will see them more often.”

“I know,” she said tightly. “I let the whole thing bother me for too long, allowed it to darken my days and nights. That’s over. I’m giving fate the finger and taking life into my hands.”

“Maybe that’s what I’m doing by deciding to have a child. Sex isn’t important to me.”

“It is, just not in a good way,” she contradicted.

I spent half the night thinking about Isa’s words. I had never asked Maximus what he wanted. Maybe because I was terrified that he didn’t want children. I wasn’t sure I could ever be happy again without filling the void the pregnancy loss left in my chest.

Maximus was in the kitchen, leaning against the table, his coffee and his cell phone in his hands.

He looked up when I entered and gave me a tense smile before he returned his attention to the screen. Even on good days, we hardly talked during our morning coffee, and today was far from good.

I poured myself a coffee—Maximus always cooked enough for the two of us—and moved toward the table. Maximus made room so I could sit down, but instead, I leaned against the table beside him—something I’d never done. I would have preferred to sit down, but I had a feeling Maximus didn’t feel like sitting down. I took a sip from my coffee. The scent of the coffee mingled with Maximus’s crisp aftershave.

“What are your plans for the day?” I asked, cringing at how forced it sounded.

Maximus put his phone in his pocket and focused on me. “I go to work,” he said, obviously taken aback by my interest.

I nodded. “I’m going to my parents’ house to help Mom paint one of Inessa’s walls mauve.”

“I know. You mentioned that she thinks her room was too childish.”

I blinked. Sometimes I chatted about whatever crossed my mind during our brief evening conversation or when we were in a car together, but I’d never taken into consideration that Maximus was actually listening. I gave him a sheepish smile.

“You thought I didn’t listen to you.” There wasn’t accusation in his voice, only resignation.

“Because you rarely say anything in return,” I said in a feeble attempt to defend myself.

“I’m not someone who talks a lot, especially not with people I don’t know well.”

Ouch. I nodded. “If you don’t tell me anything, I won’t get to know you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure you want to know about my days?”

Dad never talked about work during meals, but I was sure he shared his daily work life with Mom. Maybe not in every gruesome detail, but definitely the important things. “Yes.”

Maximus put his coffee mug down on the table. “Today, I’m only dealing with standard debtors. One of them has been in hiding for weeks, but I have a lead on him.”

“Be careful,” I said.

Maximus straightened with a sardonic smile. “I’ll make sure I won’t die before I get you pregnant.”

I flushed. “Just be careful. Always.” I swallowed. “I’m really sorry if I offended you with my request.”

Maximus put a hand on my shoulder. The simple touch was more intimacy than we’d shared in a while. His warmth seeped through my clothes, and it felt surprisingly natural. “You won’t ever have to apologize to me, Sara.”

The two days until my ovulation flew by in a blink. On the morning of my ovulation, I couldn’t eat a single bite. The line on the ovulation test still hadn’t reached the absolute peak color, but my period had been very light and short last time, so maybe my body didn’t produce the necessary amount of hormones for these tests. When Maximus sat down across from me and looked at my face, he asked, “Tonight?”

He made it sound like we were waiting for our execution.

I nodded, clutching my coffee cup in a death grip. The protein bar still lay untouched beside my hands. I’d decided to eat more protein, and since I didn’t eat much, protein bars seemed like a good solution.

“I’ll try to be home early.”

“You don’t have to be. It won’t take long,” I said quickly, then snapped my lips shut and felt heat rise into my head. Why did I have to say something like that?

An apology lay on the tip of my tongue, but then I remembered Maximus’s words and was unsure what to do.

His face was stone, his jaw clenched. He gave a hard nod. “Sure.” He shoved to his feet, then hesitated as if he wanted to say more, but then he turned and left.

I released a shaky breath. I wasn’t sure how to keep myself busy until tonight. Maybe I should just have asked Maximus to do it now, but I couldn’t bring myself to run after him.

Since it was the weekend, I didn’t even have any classes. Not that I would have been in a state of mind for them.

I decided to call Isa and ask her to go shopping with me.

“Shopping?” Isa repeated.

“Spring decorations. And I need a few coffee table books for the sideboard in the living room and in my bedroom.”

“All right. If I get the chance to enter a bookstore today, I’ll come along. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

Isa was always good at distracting me with her dry, dark humor and I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude, but today, even her presence could hardly stop my brain from dreading tonight.

Maximus returned from work after dinner. He’d sent me a message that he’d grab something to eat at work. I was relieved I wouldn’t have to spend an awkward dinner sitting across from him. I just wanted to get tonight over with.

I was already in the bedroom when he knocked and then came in. I wore a loose-fitting nightgown and no underwear to make it easier for him.

He stopped in the doorframe and regarded me with a hard-to-read expression. He wore black sweatpants, a tight white tee, and white sneakers. Not his usual work attire.

“I hit the gym to let off some steam,” he said.

I searched his face, wondering why he needed to let off steam. But my nerves stopped me from being ready to assess someone else’s reasoning.

When I didn’t say anything, he pushed off his sneakers and kicked them out into the corridor. I almost said something, but then he closed the door and came closer. He stopped at arm’s length from me and glanced down at me. For some reason, his tall frame and muscles stood out more than usual today, and it made me nervous, which didn’t even make sense. It hadn’t been Maximus’s strength that had hurt me. He hadn’t overpowered me. Maximus had never once crossed any boundaries I’d set even though he was more than capable to do so.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he murmured in his deep voice.

“I’m ovulating tonight.”

“You said that already.”

His voice rang with tension, but when I looked up at his face, it was carefully guarded. “Can we just get started? The wait is making it worse.”

Maximus looked down at his feet, then gave a nod. He looked up with the same guarded expression as before and took a step toward me.

“Should I lie down?” I asked quickly.

He frowned. “If that makes you feel more comfortable.”

Definitely not, but I needed to speed things up before I lost my courage and would have to wait another month for my ovulation. I climbed onto the bed and stretched out on my back.

Maximus stayed where he was, his eyes on me.

“We don’t have to do this again if everything goes to plan,” I told him.

He smiled strangely. “That’s good news.”

He sank down on the bed beside me, then after a deep exhale, he turned to me and bent over me. I realized he was going to kiss me. His hand touched my shoulder lightly.

“What are you doing?” I asked, panicking.

He froze with his face above mine. “I was going to kiss you and help you relax so it’s a good experience for you.”

“It won’t be. Please don’t draw it out. Can’t you just do it like last time?”

He pushed away and turned his back on me. His shoulder muscles flexed. “Like last time?” His voice shook with anger.

“I don’t mean it like that… I just mean…can you make it quick?”

He chuckled. “I might need a moment to get it up.”

“I’ll wait.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, didn’t even move. Was he trying to get in a mental state to get an erection? Was he thinking of other girls? Now that I knew that he wasn’t sleeping with other girls, I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. A sort of relief that surprised me, definitely, but also a hint of guilt.

He pushed to his feet and shoved down his sweatpants and boxers. My eyes widened when I saw his round ass. He sat back down, and his arm began moving. It took me a moment to realize what he was doing. I quickly looked away and up at the ceiling. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it seemed to take forever before Maximus finally climbed up on the bed on all fours.

“Are you sure?” he asked in a low voice.

I glanced at his face. It was sweaty and red, and the look in his eyes was hard as steel. My belly tightened. “Yes.” He slowly pushed my legs apart and climbed between them.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

I could feel him shift until his presence hovered above me. My nightgown was still covering me.

“I can turn the lights off if it helps,” he muttered. He sounded absolutely mad. Was he angry that I made him do it? Maybe he really didn’t want kids, but my wish for them was simply too great to retreat.

“Yes.”

I opened my eyes and was greeted by near blackness. Only the outline of Maximus was above me.

“Can you do it now?”

“I can. But it’ll hurt, Sara. I don’t think—”

“Just do it.”

He pushed my nightgown up, then I felt him press up against me. He was slick with some sort of lubricant that he must have put on. I tensed up like last time.

“You need to relax,” he implored.

“I can’t. Just do it, dammit. You owe it to me!” Despair and fear threatened to swallow me up.

“I owe you more than that,” he said quietly, then he shifted and pushed into me. He was slow and careful. I pressed my lips together. The pain was intense, almost as bad as last time. Images threatened to push forward—Jabba’s leering face, the camera filming everything, the third man touching himself because seeing Maximus take me turned him on.

A sob slipped out.

“Fuck it!” he snarled. “I’m not doing this.”

I gripped his bicep, sinking my nails into his skin. “No. I’ll be silent. Just make me a baby.”

He didn’t say anything, only breathed harshly, but then he began to move, harder and faster than before.

I closed my eyes. It took longer than I’d hoped, so when Maximus tensed up, and I felt his release, I could have cried in relief. He sagged down and buried his face in the pillow beside my head.

I stayed motionless beneath him for a while, not wanting to chase him away right away, but eventually, he got too heavy. “Can you move?”

He pushed off me and got up right away. Even in the darkness, I could see him gather his clothes from the floor before he moved to the door.

I almost called out for him to stay but didn’t. I wasn’t sure I could bear his closeness now. Sometimes I wished we were more than just married on paper. Sometimes I wondered how it would be to fall asleep beside him and to be in his arms, to be kissed.

I touched my belly and raised my hips. I’d read the latter would increase the chances of getting pregnant. Maybe it was superstition, but I needed to make sure this worked. Maximus stepped out into the corridor and began to close the door.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Don’t thank me for that.” His harsh voice made me flinch. “Let’s hope we won’t have to do it again.”

He closed the door.

I pressed my lips together and began to cry. So many emotions flooded me that it was hard to tell what caused the tears. Relief, sadness, hurt, hope. Maybe this was a new beginning for me and a little baby.

I leaned against the door and listened to Sara’s crying. My heart hammered in my chest, and I felt sick. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d thrown up. Probably as a teen as a result of too much alcohol.

When I couldn’t bear the sound of her devastation anymore, I went to the bathroom and took a shower. I needed to wash away the traces of what had just happened. The memories were harder to wash away.

I dried myself off and put on fresh clothes. My skin felt too tight for my body, and my heart didn’t stop pounding. Adrenaline pumped in my veins. I needed to get out of here or lose my fucking mind.

I picked up my phone and called Primo.

“I’m at a party.”

“I need you to watch Sara for me.”

The sound of girls’ laughter rang in the background. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

I hung up and sat down on the couch, staring straight ahead, trying to suppress the need for destruction. I needed to let out the fire in my veins. I was about to go mad.

Keys turned in the front door. I got up, grabbed my car keys, and walked past Primo without a word. I felt on the brink of something really bad.

“I’ll give Amo a call. Don’t go out like this alone, Max.”

I didn’t say anything; I just walked out. I arrived at the Famiglia gym in record time. I didn’t even remember the drive there. My truck was parked askew across two parking spots. I stormed into the building and got on the treadmill, turning it to 12 mph. I’d never been a runner, not literally and definitely not metaphorically. I faced my problems head-on.

But this problem…

Fuck, what was I doing?

Sweat ran down my back and face, but the running didn’t help. My memories were chasing me. Sara’s soft sobs, the look in her eyes before I’d turned off the lights.

I’d always loved sex—the smell, the taste, the sounds, the sensations, the orgasms. Tonight had been a nightmare, almost as bad as last time.

Maybe it would have helped if I’d found a girl for a great fuck, but I couldn’t do this to Sara. Even if she probably didn’t care. She was my wife, and no matter if our vows were worth almost nothing, I wouldn’t trample on them like that too. I closed my eyes and ran blindly.

“Maximus!” someone shouted.

My eyes flew open, and I almost lost my footing. I turned down the pace to 7 mph and finally spotted Amo over on my right, watching me in concern. “I called your name twice before you reacted. Your survival skills are lacking.”

I didn’t smile, turned back around, and kept running. Running helped a little bit, but it wasn’t enough. What I really needed was blood and violence. Amo got on the treadmill beside mine and began jogging at a leisurely pace. His eyes were focused on me. “Primo called me, but he didn’t know what was wrong with you.”

“Who says something’s wrong?”

Amo rolled his eyes. “One look at your face tells me all I need to know. Now spill.”

I slanted him a look. Amo had been through a lot with his deceased wife, Cressida, and his hopeless love for Greta Falcone, but the tables had turned since he’d married Greta. I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to confide in him, but not because I didn’t trust Amo. I had trusted him with my life before. For some inane reason, this seemed even harder than trusting someone with my life, though. It felt intimate and weak in a way that made my skin crawl. I jammed my finger on the screen and reduced my speed further.

“Sara wants a baby,” I said, then hit the stop button because the words alone made my heart race and my breath come in short bursts. The treadmill slowed to a stop, and I gripped the railings, suddenly in need of support. My heart pounded in my chest like crazy.

Amo hit the stop too and turned to face me, leaning against the railing. He frowned. “That’s not completely unexpected, right? She’s someone I always saw as a mom.”

“The problem is that she doesn’t want to use a fertility clinic. She wants to do it the old-fashioned way.”

Amo’s confusion grew. “Okay. You are wife and husband.” A hint of discomfort entered Amo’s expression. “And if you have trouble getting it up after the shit show of the past, then nobody would blame you. Pop a pill or two. It’ll get better. Sara’s an attractive woman.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. He held up his hands. “And my cousin.”

“Sara’s gorgeous; that’s not the fucking problem.”

“Then what is? If Sara wants to make a baby the old-fashioned way, that’s good, right? You haven’t had a sex life yet, right?”

I gritted my teeth. “No. Fuck.” I stared down and took a deep breath, then told him in very basic terms what had happened tonight.

Amo blew out a breath. “Fuck. That’s a shitty situation.”

Shitty didn’t even begin to cover it. Just thinking about it made me want to wreak utter destruction around me.

“Maybe I should ask her for a divorce. That way, she could start new with a guy who doesn’t remind her of one of the worst days of her life. But I can’t. I just can’t. Even if our marriage is far from good, even if things are hard, I don’t want to give her up.” I chuckled bitterly. Every time I saw my ring on Sara’s finger or heard her say my last name as hers, I felt possessive, even proud that I could call a woman like her my own. I was so fucked up. “See how fucked I am?”

“She’s your wife. Of course, you don’t want anyone else to be with her. You’re not a saint. None of us are.”

“I’m not sure I can do this again if I didn’t get her pregnant this time. I can torture whoever lies on my table, but I can’t do this.”

“You’re human.”

I laughed. “Fuck, I wish I wasn’t. I wish I could be as emotionless as I am while on the job. But Sara…”

“Talk to her.”

“That’s not my forte.”

“Neither mine,” Amo said with a pressed-out laugh. “But this situation is fucking you up. You need to change something.”

“I just hope I got her pregnant tonight.”

Amo looked doubtful. “Even if that’s the case, you’re married, and you’ll be parents someday. Don’t you think it would be good if you actually tried to be a couple too?”

“Let’s just go kill someone. I need to vent. I need blood.”

“I’m sure we can find someone.”

The sun hadn’t even risen yet, and I was hardly awake, but I got up on the morning after I hadn’t gotten my period and did a pregnancy test. I paced the bathroom as I waited for the results. I could hear Maximus getting up and grabbing a shower down the hall. Our interactions since our intimate encounter had been sparse… I felt like he resented me for wanting a child. I didn’t like to recall our last sexual encounter. Maybe that was why he was so angry too. I knew I needed to talk to him and salvage our marriage somehow, but I wasn’t sure I had it in me to take on this battle right now.

When the ten minutes had passed, I picked up the test. Holding my breath, I risked a peek. The air left my lungs in a tight whoosh. Only one line.

I couldn’t believe it. I’d felt different these past few days, and I hadn’t gotten my period, so why wasn’t there a second line?

I took two more tests—one digital and one like the one I’d already done. Ten minutes later, tears filled my eyes when both of them confirmed the first test’s result.

Not pregnant.

They were supposedly 99 percent accurate.

I called my doctor and asked to come in today. As usual, she accommodated me right away. I had an hour to get ready. I took a quick shower, then hurried into the kitchen to grab a coffee. Maximus leaned against the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee. His gaze was far away even though he stared straight at the fridge. He wore jeans and a tight T-shirt, his usual work outfit. He snapped out of whatever memory he had been caught up in and scanned my face, his expression tightening with concern. “What’s wrong?” He grabbed a long-sleeved black shirt that hung over the backrest of a kitchen chair and began to pull it over his head. His shirt rode up, revealing a sliver of his six-pack and the hint of a tattoo—a meadow and tree trunks.

“Oh nothing. I just need to leave for a doctor’s appointment in fifteen minutes.”

He paused with one arm inside the shirtsleeve, worry filling his face. “You didn’t tell me you needed to see a doctor. Do you need me to come with you?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

He froze in his tracks. “Are you pregnant?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m going,” I lied. Deep down, I knew the doctor would only confirm the bad news, but I couldn’t admit it to Maximus.

He nodded and finished putting on the shirt. “Are you sure you don’t want me there?” His gaze perused the kitchen counter until he found what he was looking for: his phone. His screen saver was an image of Bacon as a puppy sitting in the snow. Only his black nose and dark eyes stood out. Messages kept popping up.

“You should head to work. I’ll take Isa.” I hadn’t asked Isa to come along. I knew she would have joined me if I’d asked, but I preferred to be alone.

Maximus grabbed his phone, scanned the messages, and slipped it into his jeans pocket. “Sure. Will you give me a call afterward?”

“Of course,” I said distractedly as I began to pack my purse and left the kitchen to grab my wool coat and put on my shoes.

My two bodyguards waited in the waiting room as I entered the consulting room. I was glad I didn’t have personal guards, but I changed men depending on who was available. If I’d had someone who knew me for a while, they might have felt obligated to inquire about my welfare.

After a quick examination, it was clear that I wasn’t pregnant.

Seeing my face, my doctor said, “It’s quite usual for it to take six to twelve months to get pregnant, so this is perfectly normal.”

“Last time, I got pregnant right away,” I said softly, trying to keep it together. I’d put so much hope into the one time Maximus and I had been intimate. I hadn’t dared to consider that it wouldn’t be enough, even if I knew better.

She nodded, her face kind but professional. She was a no-nonsense, straight-to-the-point person, which was reflected in her practical, short pixie cut and no makeup. “Do you get your period regularly?”

“I used to, but it’s been less consistent in the past year.”

“A miscarriage and the hormonal changes shouldn’t still cause you trouble, but I noticed that you’ve lost some weight. This might be a reason your body isn’t ready to conceive. But again, this is still perfectly normal.”

“So if I eat more and gain some weight, it might help me get pregnant?”

“Being as healthy as possible, physically and mentally, is always a good start for a pregnancy.”

I could do something about the physical part. The other wouldn’t be so easy.

Despite my doctor’s encouraging words and a solution for how to improve my chances of getting pregnant, I felt crushed. I asked my bodyguards to take me to my parents’ house.

Only Mom was there when I arrived. One look at my face, and she led me toward the sofa and sank down beside me. Her compassionate gaze hit me like an avalanche, and I began crying. When I’d calmed down, I told Mom everything, only leaving out the details of our sexual encounter. Mom touched my cheek. “Sara, I understand you long for a child, and I want nothing more than for you to be happy, but there’s still so much trauma in your and Maximus’s life. Maybe it would be good if you tried to work on that first. A child won’t make everything better. Raising a child requires strength. If you and Maximus don’t work on your problems, how will you work together as parents?”

Her words made sense. Too much sense. I’d spent the past year trying to ignore my trauma, which had been easier as long as I’d spent as little time as possible with Maximus. But Mom was right. A child deserved parents who were more than strangers, parents who weren’t haunted by their past.

Once back home, I took a long shower and cuddled up on the comfy armchair in my room with Isa’s newest book. She’d warned me of its gloomy nature, but I wasn’t in the mood to be uplifted or cheered up. I wanted to be as miserable as possible.

When I heard Maximus return home shortly after six, I forced myself to leave my room.

“You’re early,” I said, surprised when I spotted him kicking off his boots in the mudroom. One of them fell over, but he didn’t pick it back up. It didn’t bother me like it usually would. What did it matter that the shoes weren’t neatly put side by side?

“You didn’t message me after your appointment, so I wanted to make sure you were all right,” he said, straightening and searching my face. His gaze lingered on my eyes. They probably still showed traces of my earlier crying. I’d removed my makeup and cleaned my face, but the puffy feeling remained.

I turned to avoid eye contact and considered what I should say.

“Sara?” Maximus stepped closer. Maybe if our marriage had been real, I would have leaned against him and sought his closeness and consolation, but as it was, I only wished for it. Why couldn’t I just take the first step? Why couldn’t I lean against him? “It didn’t work,” I said with a small, shaky smile and a shrug. “Maybe next time.”

Maximus’s expression remained perfectly controlled, no sign of approval or disapproval. He took another step closer and lightly touched my shoulder. His touch was warm and gentle. I could smell the hint of curd soap on his hand and faint disinfectant. He’d never returned covered in blood since we’d been married and often wore black clothes so detecting blood was close to impossible. I appreciated that he made sure to clean up before he got home. Dad was the same way. He’d never brought signs of his work back home.

His thumb lightly rubbed my shoulder, bringing my attention back to him. The touch was nice, and I wondered why we didn’t try to have more of these small moments. “Have you eaten anything?”

I realized I hadn’t, not since the protein bar in the morning—despite my intention to gain some weight back. “No, I forgot.”

“You keep forgetting,” he murmured, his voice even lower than usual. My body warmed at the sound. “Do you want me to grab something?”

I quickly shook my head. I didn’t want Maximus to leave. Despite what had happened, I felt safer in his presence than with my changing bodyguards. “I’ll prepare a quick carbonara for us. We have everything we need.”

Maximus lowered his arm. My skin still tingled where he’d touched me. I headed into the kitchen, followed by Maximus, and I grabbed eggs, parmesan, linguine, and pancetta.

“I don’t have guanciale anymore,” I said regretfully as I put the piece of meat on a chopping board and took a knife from the drawer. “But pancetta should do.”

Maximus’s uncomprehending expression revealed he had no clue why it mattered. “It’s both delicious.”

“Mom taught me to prepare carbonara with guanciale, and I prefer it that way.” I got cooking, and the dish was ready to be eaten within fifteen minutes. I loved the easy nature of it. Not everything needed to be complicated and fancy. Sometimes beauty was in simplicity.

Sitting across from each other, Maximus and I dug in. Surprisingly, I managed to eat more now that it seemed to serve a purpose. Well, another purpose except to keep me alive…

“It’s absolutely delicious,” Maximus said as he filled his plate with another serving. I’d quickly learned that he ate for two, which wasn’t surprising considering the muscle mass he had to maintain.

I nodded. “Are you mad that it didn’t work out right away?” I wasn’t sure why I returned to the topic. Maybe because the eating-for-two thought had brought back the reality of my current situation.

Maximus put down his fork and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at the situation.”

I pursed my lips, wondering if there really was a difference. “Because it means we’ll have to be intimate again.”

“Because I don’t want a repeat performance of last time.”

I flushed. It had been bad for me, but I hadn’t thought Maximus hated it that much.

I felt mortified, just like I had afterward in the cell when I’d seen Maximus’s disgusted expression. It had reflected the feelings I harbored for myself at that moment.

I ran my finger along the rim of the plate, trying to compose myself.

I really wished Sara wouldn’t have brought it up again. I wished she were pregnant and we could move on.

“Once I’m pregnant, you won’t have to touch me again.”

Half the time, Sara’s words didn’t make sense to me. I could tell she was upset, though. She couldn’t even look at me. Instead, she studied the plate in front of her as if it held the answer to all of our problems. “You make it sound as if I had a problem with touching you. I have a problem with how things are going, not you.”

“You couldn’t even look at me afterward,” she whispered harshly, casting her eyes up. I half wished she hadn’t because the hurt in them was a punch in the throat.

It took me a moment to realize what she was referring to, and when I did, my stomach tightened to a stone. She thought I had been disgusted by her? Why the fuck should I have felt anything but burning guilt when looking at her broken form?

“I couldn’t look at you because I felt fucking guilty. Because I felt like a fucking rapist. Fuck, because I was one.”

She froze, her finger still resting on the plate. “You didn’t want to do it.”

“What kind of difference does it make?” I roared, pushing to my feet because I felt ready to combust. I had left work early and handed the debtor off to my father for further handling. Now I wished I had just kept kicking his sorry ass. “My actions speak for themselves, don’t they?”

“It makes a world of difference, Maximus!” Sara said, slapping the tabletop, suddenly angry for some reason. “We were both victims.”

I gripped the backrest of the chair. I wanted nothing more than to throw it across the room. “I don’t think we’re talking about the same event. I had to force myself on you.”

“You had to. And I gave you the okay because I knew you didn’t have a choice, just like I didn’t.”

I stared at her, at a loss. She seemed to believe everything she had said. How could her version of the events be so different from mine? “But you’ve acted like you don’t want me close since we got married.”

“Because you reminded me of what happened and of my helplessness. You could do something to work through the trauma. You hunted those men and killed them. You acted. I felt like I did nothing, or at best, reacted.”

Did she really think I had gotten past the trauma of that day? “You survived a horrible thing. That’s not nothing, Sara. And you had a lot to process, even afterward. The pregnancy…” I still didn’t like talking about her losing our baby because that too felt like it was my fault. I hadn’t wanted the child, hadn’t wanted a reminder, and our unborn child had died, almost as if my thoughts had been strong enough to kill it. I’d avoided the oak tree for that very reason, to avoid being faced with memories. Like a coward. I hated being one, so I had begun the process of having the tree tattooed into my back. That way, I’d never be able to escape again.

“Sometimes I think that it’s my fault our baby died…” She swallowed thickly. “That because I was so caught up in my trauma, I couldn’t show it that I still wanted it. That I didn’t love it enough because of what happened and that it just left because of that.”

I shook my head, feeling completely at a loss. I leaned more heavily on the backrest. I couldn’t believe that she’d harbored the same feelings of guilt as I had. Hearing those thoughts aloud from her lips made far less sense than in my head. “Nobody would have blamed you if you’d not chosen to keep this pregnancy.” She gave me a look that made it clear that wasn’t true, and she was probably right. “But you did choose to keep the pregnancy, so even if you were struggling with what happened, the baby knew you wanted it. And pregnancy losses are common. It’s rarely anyone’s fault, Sara. You heard what the doctors said.”

“I know, but it can be hard to see facts if it’s your baby. If I ever get pregnant again, I’ll do everything right.”

I bridged the distance between us and touched her shoulder. Fuck, I wanted to pull her into my arms. She peered up at me with those soulful, always melancholic eyes. “You did nothing wrong last time either. Maybe you should consider talking to someone professional about your feelings.”

I was the last person who’d ever go to a psychiatrist to work through the traumatic shit I’d witnessed and done in my life, but maybe they could help Sara. I didn’t want her to carry this kind of guilt.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to move on,” she said. She looked at me as if I could make it happen, as if I held the key to her happiness in my hand.

“I’ll do what I can to make that happen.”

She briefly touched my hand still resting on her shoulder. Her smooth, small hand on mine made my heart speed up. “You know what I want more than anything else.”

I fucking dreaded our next sexual encounter, but I wasn’t a coward who ducked away when shit hit the fan. I’d make Sara a baby even if it cost me the last shreds of my sanity. I’d make my wife happy, and if a baby was the only way to do it, then she’d get her baby.

Two weeks later, Sara and I shared another sexual encounter that was hardly any better. She still wanted to get it over with as fast as possible, only concerned about the technicalities—me getting my sperm into her. Even with a ton of lubricant, which I’d insisted we use even though Sara was sure it would lower the chances of pregnancy, the ordeal was painful for her. I was so fucking done with it. If she didn’t get pregnant this time, I wasn’t sure what I would do. Maybe we simply needed to use medical help even though Sara wanted things to happen naturally for some superstitious reason. As if anything about our sex life felt natural.

Sara didn’t get pregnant yet again.

We didn’t talk about what that meant. I was half tempted to insist on a visit to the fertility center. I didn’t want a repeat performance. I didn’t want to keep feeling like I did that first horrible time. I was fucking done.

But I also wanted to salvage our marriage. I wanted us to become more than what we were. With how things were progressing, that would never happen.

“We can’t go on like this,” I told Sara the morning after her pregnancy test when I entered the kitchen. I knew she would simply continue living a separate life until her next fertile window rolled around and then have me mount her like a breeding bull, but I was done with this shit. I’d never had a problem with detached sex. I’d never sought an emotional bond with a woman. Sex had been enough. But sex had been fucking great back then. Sara wasn’t a fling, she was my wife, and I wanted more than the miserable marriage we currently led, more than the awkward and painful sex. And I knew I would have to be the one to take the reins to make that happen. For Sara, sex had no good connotation. It was my job to change that, even if I was also the reason it was bad in the first place.

Sara looked up from her spot at the kitchen table, where she clung to her coffee mug. “What do you mean?”

I motioned my pointer finger between us. “I mean this. We’re married. I know we had a horrible start, but I don’t want things to keep being horrible. I want a real marriage. I want you to feel like my wife, not a stranger.”

I could see the questions in her eyes.

I sat across from her. “And I’m not talking about sex, okay? I’m talking about us never spending time together.”

For Sara to ever be comfortable having sex with me, she needed to be comfortable in my presence. We needed to become more than strangers.

“We could watch a movie together when you come home tonight from work,” Sara suggested softly. I was glad she was open to the idea.

“What kind of movies do you like to watch?” I asked. I dreaded a romantic movie marathon. I doubted we were ready to see happy couples on screen.

“I love historical movies.”

I chuckled because I should have seen it coming. She was majoring in art history, and most of the books in her room were historic tomes. “Okay,” I said slowly.

“What do you like?”

“Action movies, science fiction, fantasy.”

She looked thoughtful, then she shrugged. “Many historical movies have lots of action, and many series have a historical setting that is fantasy. Maybe we could start with Saving Private Ryan? I watched it a long time ago and loved it. I’d love to see it again.”

“Why not? I’ve never watched it.”

I came home with a bucket of chicken wings, and Sara had prepared mac ’n’ cheese to go with it. We settled on the sofa in front of the TV. Even though we were almost an arm’s length away, I counted it as a win. Still, I wanted nothing more than to reach over and pull Sara against me. She looked particularly beautiful tonight in a short, very soft white sweater and a purple corduroy skirt. She pulled her tight-clad legs under herself and gave me a small smile.

I was glad we’d opted for a movie and not a dinner that would burden us with conversation. I wanted our first dates to go smoothly and not end in utter awkwardness.

I switched on the movie.

Halfway through it, I raised my eyebrows at Sara. “This wasn’t what I expected from you.”

She tilted her head. “Because of its brutality?”

I nodded. I didn’t have trouble with ripped-off limbs, but I would have thought that Sara was too squeamish for it.

“History has many gruesome moments. You can’t study any kind of history without paying attention to the most barbaric moments in time. Do you hate it?”

“No, it’s actually quite entertaining.”

“For a historic movie,” Sara said with raised eyebrows.

I shrugged with a chuckle. “No, it’s really good. But I won’t turn into a history buff, sorry. I’m not that kind of guy.”

“I know.”

I frowned, wondering if our differences bothered Sara. “Was Paolo interested in history?”

I wasn’t sure why I even brought him up. He’d never been a topic in our marriage. From what I heard, he had already married a young woman from Baltimore.

Sara angled her body to me and put her arm up on the backrest. “Paolo?” She shook her head with a look of honest confusion. “I don’t know. I never spent time with him. And I don’t expect you to like the same things I do. Or do you expect me to enjoy guns and knives, and…”

She trailed off, probably referring to violence or something of the sort. Maybe this was the best proof of how little we knew about each other. “That’s part of my job. It’s not all there is to me.”

She flushed. “So you don’t like it?”

“No, most of the time I do. But it’s not what’s really important to me.”

“Then what is?”

“My family, our dogs, the woods. I love the outdoors and the sense of freedom it gives me. Nature’s rules are simple; humans are complicated.”

Sara let out a small laugh. “That’s true.”

“You used to love pottery, but you haven’t done it since we got married.”

Embarrassment filled her face. “I haven’t used your gifts yet either. I know.”

“I didn’t say it to make you feel guilty. I just want to know why.”

She looked down at her fingers, which were playing with a loose thread on her white wool tights. “I loved the moments of pensiveness I had when I did pottery. I don’t enjoy being in my head as much anymore.”

I grimaced, realizing why. “You could do pottery in a more distracting setting. That way, you wouldn’t have to be in your head.”

“But where could I do pottery here?” she asked, motioning around us.

“I could make some room in my fitness room.”

She bit her lip with a sheepish smile. “Have you ever seen how big a potter’s wheel is? And I’d need an oven to fire my pottery.”

“To be honest, before you, I thought pottery was something nuns or grandmas did.”

Sara’s eyes lit up with indignation. “That’s so not true. The pottery art scene is so lively and creative. It’s not boring or old-fashioned as you make it sound.”

“You’ll have to show me. I’ll get a potter’s wheel into the room, and you’ll use it.”

“Okay. I sold the wheel I used before, so we’ll have to order a new one, which will take a few weeks. I never had a kiln. You need a good place for it because of the heat.”

“We could set up an oven in my parents’ barn.”

“If we can remove any fire hazards, that would be a great idea.”

Seeing her honest smile and the way it lit up her eyes, I wanted nothing more than to kiss her.

When I came home the next day, the kitchen smelled of homemade chili, but Sara wasn’t there. Taking my gun out, I went in search of her and found her in our rooftop garden, cuddled up in several blankets on the swing seat in front of the gas hearth.

“May I?” I asked.

She jumped, then let out a small laugh as she peered up at me. “You startled me.”

“I’m late. I’m sorry. Did you have dinner yet?”

“No, I waited for you.”

“I’ll grab two bowls for us,” I said.

Steam rose from the hot chili as I stepped back out into the cold and headed over to Sara. She took a bowl from me and put it down on her lap. I sank down beside her and did the same.

It was a wonderful chili, cooked as close to perfection as possible. “Have you ever cooked chili over the open flame? The smokiness is incredible.”

Sara shook her head. “It sounds delicious.” She nodded toward the gas flame in the hearth. “I suppose it won’t work with gas.”

“No,” I said immediately. I didn’t like the gas flame. Sure, it was less work and less cleaning, but nothing beat a real fire. “I wish we could make a fire here, then I’d show you.”

“Can you cook?” she asked surprised.

I chuckled. “No, not at all. I’d make the fire, and you could make the chili. Or we’d have to visit my parents and have chili there. Mom makes a fantastic chili over the open flame.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

Sara positively glowed. She was incredibly gorgeous. She bit her lip as if she could see what I was thinking. I wanted to kiss her so badly that it was physically painful not to.

“Maximus…” Sara began, then fell silent. She set her bowl down, then scooted a bit closer. I put my bowl on the ground. Sara squinted into the flames in utmost concentration. She turned around, looking like someone about to take their first bungee jump.

She leaned forward and pressed a brief kiss to my lips, then retreated quickly. I was stunned.

“What was that?” I murmured.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then regarded me with an expression as if she wasn’t sure either. “I just wanted to test something.”

“Test something?” I repeated. If my lips hadn’t still been tingling, I would have convinced myself the kiss hadn’t happened.

“I’m s—” I raised my eyebrows, and Sara stopped, smiling in embarrassment.

“Never for that,” I rumbled.

She nodded, then yawned.

I rose to my feet and held out my hand. “You’re tired. I kept you up too late.”

She took my hand and let me pull her to her feet.

“You can test something whenever you want, you know?”

She nodded again, but I could tell she was stunned by her own courage.

Maybe I would have to be the one to act, but given our past, that wasn’t as easy as I wanted.

We walked back inside, and Sara headed toward her bedroom. Before she closed the door, she said, “Good night, Maximus.”

“Good night.” She closed the door, and I headed to my bedroom. Fuck. Tonight, I really wished we weren’t sleeping in separate rooms.

My phone lit up with an email that the potter’s wheel I’d ordered would arrive tomorrow. Finally. Who would have thought it was such a hot commodity?

“My ovulation is in three or four days,” Sara said when I sat down at the breakfast table across from her with a cup of coffee. I would have never thought a sentence could cause me so much dread.

So this was why she had been so nervous last night. We’d spent almost every evening having dinner together in front of the TV in the past week. It was a tentative start, even if the distance between us still seemed impossible to overcome. Sara’s moment of bravery hadn’t changed much between us. We hadn’t kissed again. I knew I needed to stop waiting for Sara to act.

She cleared her throat but didn’t look up from her fruit bowl. It was loaded with almond butter and chia seeds. She had been eating more since her doctor had recommended it, and it was slowly becoming apparent. Her curves had become more prominent again, even if I rarely allowed myself to admire them. “We should try every night for the next few days.”

Three or four times of painful sex—for Sara on a physical level and me on a mental one. Fuck. I wasn’t a pussy, but the thought of having her lying under me in the dark again, stiff as a board, while I tried to get off as soon as possible was a nightmare. One I had absolutely no intention of reliving. We’d made progress in the past two weeks, but that would ruin it all.

“Under one condition,” I said.

She looked up, frowning. So far I’d always done what she asked me to do. My guilty conscience wouldn’t allow me to act any other way, but I simply couldn’t do this again. It felt like I was forcing myself on her every time, even though she asked for it.

“Okay,” she said slowly.

“Tonight, we’re spending a chilled evening in our rooftop garden, chatting and just trying to be a normal couple and kiss. And tomorrow, we’re having sex, but we’re not using lubricant. I’m not going to stick my cock in without preparation. We’re going to do this the right way, like it should be done.”

Concern filled her eyes, but she nodded. “But we might still need lubricant.”

Maybe we would. Fuck. I had always been confident in my ability to get a woman wet, but the situation with Sara was different, and it had changed me. But I’d do my best to get Sara relaxed and wet, even if I was the last person she wanted to be with.

“What would you like me to cook tonight?” Sara asked after a moment, sounding more composed than a minute ago.

Screw it. We would be spending the next few days trying to make a baby. I couldn’t walk on eggshells anymore. “I’d prefer to eat you, but as that’s not on the menu tonight, I’d love a hearty soup.”

Sara gave me an open-mouthed look, then snapped her lips shut. “All right.”

Fuck, I would have laughed at her stunned expression if I wasn’t nervous like a virgin about the next few days.

Sara was outside, cuddled up under even more blankets in front of the gas hearth. In my hands I held bowls with the bean and pasta stew Sara had prepared. We ate in silence, allowing the soup to warm us from the inside. When we were done, I put our bowls on the ground since Sara seemed ready to cling to hers all evening.

“We’ve done this before, sitting beside each other like this, and you even kissed me,” I reminded her.

“I know. But that was just a peck, and it’s just kind of strange knowing what’s going to happen all day. It’s increasing my anxiety.”

I raised my eyebrows. She planned our sex life according to her ovulation.

Sara grimaced and let out an embarrassed laugh. “Hypocritical of me, right?”

“You’re my wife, and I won’t ever badmouth you, but since you were the one who called you hypocritical…”

“I deserve that, I know.”

“You deserve so much more than what we have right now, Sara.”

She looked at me with huge, emotional eyes. I was done with words. I touched her cheek and leaned forward. “Just a kiss, okay?”

“Okay,” she breathed.

Maximus’s face came closer, and his other hand came up to touch my cheek, but before his lips touched mine, he paused, giving me time to pull back or stop him. I didn’t. Maximus regarded me, his eyes seemingly taking in every inch of my face, and bridged the last inch between us until his lips brushed mine. The friction sent sparks through my entire body. My cheeks became warm, and soon, my entire body felt hot. Maximus kept the kiss light, sliding his lips over mine once more before he pulled back, but only a couple of inches. I wished he wouldn’t stop. I wished he would keep kissing me. “Was that okay for you?”

“Yes,” I got out.

A kiss was nothing compared to what we had already done and would be doing in the next few days, but it felt intimate on a level that Maximus and I hadn’t reached before. And I had enjoyed it. The trauma from the past was surprisingly quiet, maybe because we’d never kissed during the incident.

Maximus slowly lowered his hands from my cheek, and I mourned the loss of his warmth and closeness. He wrapped an arm around me, and I leaned against him, peering up at his face. He met my gaze and gave me a small smile before he returned his attention to the flames. His eyes glowed as the fire reflected in them. I allowed myself to see Maximus at that moment, see him as he was and not as part of a memory that he and I needed to overcome to move into a future together. And as my eyes took him in, like they had taken him in when he’d picked me up that day, I realized I was still attracted to him. He looked nothing like the guys I’d admired in the past, but my body still warmed when I saw his strong body and stunning eyes. If I could focus on that, on the man before me in the next few days and hopefully beyond that too, then maybe we could build a connection that wasn’t constantly tainted by the past.

“I think I’m attracted to you,” I said. In the past, I would have never uttered something rash like this. Maybe it was Isa’s influence on me.

Maximus’s eyebrows climbed his forehead as he gave me an amused look. “You think?”

I laughed. “It’s complicated.”

“I know,” he murmured. “You know what’s not complicated?”

His gaze burned into me in a way it had never done before. “No,” I whispered.

“There’s nothing complicated about how I feel about you, Sara. I’m definitely one hundred percent, no doubt about it attracted to you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

I let out an embarrassed laugh but felt secretly pleased by his admittance. It had never crossed my mind that Maximus found me attractive.

Living in the moment seemed to work for us. I wanted to preserve the easiness of tonight.

When I returned for dinner the next day, Sara was stirring a pot with Ragú. She stiffened when I came in, and her expression burst with anxiety. I’d hoped last night and the evenings of us sitting on the sofa, watching a series or movie, would make tonight easier. But scheduled intimacy always messed with the mind.

If we both suffered through dinner in this atmosphere, we would never be relaxed for what came after. “Are you hungry?” I asked, not sitting down.

Sara peered down at her sauce. “Not really, but I won’t let you eat alone.”

I walked over to her, took the spoon out of her hand, and put it down on the cutting board, then turned off the stove.

“We can eat later.”

She swallowed, understanding what I meant.

“Lead the way,” I said, wanting her to go on her own terms. She nodded and began walking, her hand slack in mine. I wished I knew what was going on inside her head. On the other hand, it was probably better for my chances of getting it up that I didn’t.

My heart was pounding in my chest as if this were my first time. Fuck, I had been more confident before that even as a fourteen-year-old boy. We stepped into her bedroom, and I closed the door, then released Sara.

“I’ll take a shower,” she said.

I grabbed her arm. “Don’t.”

“But—” Her gaze lingered almost longing on the bathroom door. She was nervous. Fuck, so was I. Too much was at stake.

“You had yoga in the afternoon. I know you shower afterward. I doubt you’ve rolled around in dirt since then. It’ll be fine,” I said firmly. In her new quest to become as healthy as possible, she’d started doing yoga once or twice a week with Isa.

I didn’t want the taste of soap in my mouth. This would be hard enough; I didn’t need any additional factors that would make this a sterile experience.

She released a small breath, and a flicker of determination filled her eyes. She had a goal in mind, becoming a mother. She wanted to get this over with, and I wanted to salvage this marriage somehow, even if it was doomed from the start.

She began to unbutton the neckline of her dress, revealing a white lace bra. I would have preferred to undress her slowly, but I let her do what she obviously needed to do to feel at ease. She quickly slipped her dress over her head until she stood in front of me in her underwear. Sara was a gorgeous woman, and since she’d started eating more in her mission to become pregnant, she’d regained the curves she’d had before her life got ruined. I wasn’t sure how she could have ever doubted her attractiveness, but I’d seen how surprised she’d been by my admittance yesterday.

Remembering her words, I tugged my shirt over my head, then moved toward her. She tensed but didn’t move away. “Can we turn off the lights?” she asked. The note of pleading in her tone broke through my determination. “Sure.”

I flipped the switch and bathed us in darkness. Only the hallway light coming through the crack of the door filtered in. I could just make out her outline as she headed for the bed and lay down. The rustling of the sheets was the only sound in the room. I wondered if Sara even held her breath. I sank down beside her. “You have to tell me if you don’t want something and also if you enjoy my touch.”

“Okay.”

Then silence.

I took a deep breath. I had a plan, and it had to work.

I lay down beside her, propped up on my side. I liked passionate sex, but Sara and I both needed to take it slow tonight. I touched her shoulder.

“Maximus—”

I paused, my fingers resting on the silky skin of her upper arm.

“I’m scared.”

“I told you I want to make this good for you. I know I hurt you the last times, but today, I’ll do everything I can to make sure it won’t hurt, and if it does, that it’ll be good soon after.”

“I’m not scared of the pain. I never really was,” she whispered. “I’m scared because I don’t know what to expect. What if I can’t feel good because of what happened? What if the memories hold me back?”

I leaned over her. “Did you enjoy our kiss yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“Then trust your body to enjoy this too.” My heart hammered in my chest. Fuck. I was nervous. But I’d be damned if I admitted that to Sara. She had enough baggage to carry. She didn’t need to carry mine too. “I wish I could take the memories from you. But I can’t. I can only replace them with better memories.” I swallowed. “I’m good at this. Don’t think, just allow yourself to fall.”

I knew I was asking a lot.

She nodded. But her expression remained veiled by the dim light.

“I’m going to kiss you,” I warned. Our lips brushed slightly like last night, and the same sparks I’d felt back then surged through my body. That such a simple kiss, under these circumstances no less, gave me these kinds of sensations and hope for our future. I kissed the corner of her mouth and her chin, then moved back up to the corner of her mouth. Drawing in her scent, I brushed my lips over hers before I nibbled at her lower lip, testing the waters. Her eyes fluttered closed as she parted her lips. I trailed my tongue over her lip before I deepened our kiss. For the first time, I could really taste my wife. And fuck, she was perfect. I savored our kiss, every stroke of her tongue, every exhale against my lips. I should have kissed her like this sooner.

Slowly, I moved down her throat and over her collarbone, my lips tracing her skin. This slow approach was new to me too, but the feel of Sara’s silky skin and her sweet rose scent made it worthwhile.

I kissed the swell of her breast, then her nipple through the fabric before I moved on to her other breast and repeated the same motions. Her quickened breathing filled the silence. Her nipples puckered under my ministrations. I tugged down her bra and allowed my lips to discover her nipple, even if I couldn’t see much. I closed my lips around it and sucked gently. Sara drew in her breath, but as my eyes grew used to the darkness, I could see that her fingers were still pressed flat against the linen. I wanted fingernails raking over my back and hands ripping at the sheets.

I pulled back and brushed my thumb over her hardened nipple, loving how much firmer it felt, then I blew against it. She twitched, her hand gripping my bicep as if she needed something solid to hold on to, but she was still tense. I left kisses on every inch of her skin as I moved lower. Her breathing hitched when I kissed the skin below her belly, then her hip bone. I avoided her panties for now and kissed a trail down her thigh to her calf, only to work my way back up to her knee. Her perfect skin felt smooth and warm under my fingertips and lips. I touched her thigh and pushed her legs apart. My lips grazed the inside of her thigh, slowly moving up. I lightly brushed my fingertips over her panties. The fabric wasn’t wet yet, which only made me more determined to give her pleasure. At the end of the night, I wanted Sara to be sweaty and exhausted from several orgasms.

I kissed along the edge of her panties. At first, she’d hardly dared to breathe, but now her panting served as the jungle drum that spurred me on. I could smell her pussy, a subtle muskiness that spoke to a primal part of me. I kissed her pubic bone through the lace, then her pussy, loving how her pussy lips yielded under the pressure. Focusing only on her scent and the feel of her, I kept kissing her pussy through her panties until I couldn’t take it anymore. I slid my tongue over her slit, wedging her panties between her lips. Her breathing hitched, and her fingers tightened on my biceps. Those were the only markers I had as guidance.

Apart from that, she was quiet and motionless, but I hadn’t expected anything else. I had to let my instinct guide me in this and what my nose was picking up: that the musky scent had increased. Lifting my head, I hooked my fingers in her panties and slid them down her body. Then I returned my lips to her silky pussy lips and resumed kissing them. The tip of my tongue parted them, and I felt the smooth skin hiding within and tasted her subtle saltiness. I gently stroked along her slit, loving the feel of her pussy lips around my tongue. Sara’s breathing deepened further, then halted in her chest when I brushed my tip over her clit. I circled it for a bit to see how she liked it, and from the sounds of her panting, I would say a lot. Then I brushed it with the flat of my tongue. I pushed her legs a bit farther apart and began to lick over her clit. After a while of her pants and her aroma growing stronger, I dove deeper, my tongue seeking her entrance. It was soaked, her lust immediately coating my tongue. She tasted so sweet. I had done this. My heart seemed to skip a beat only to gallop even faster next.

I exhaled against her, and my cock sprang to life, blood finally filling it rapidly. Sara’s lust turned me on, and it was all I needed to get it up. I’d been too tense before and hadn’t allowed myself to enjoy any part of this before I knew Sara did too. My cock had hardened painfully—without any mental tricks.

It didn’t matter that she still wanted the lights out. This wasn’t about me. This was about her. One day, she’d be able to look into my eyes when we had sex and not see our past.

I was overwhelmed by the sensations. I was still nervous, but Maximus’s touch created so many unexpected feelings inside me that I hardly had the time or the capacity to focus on my nerves.

I glanced down carefully, not wanting Maximus to know I was watching him. It was dark, but not dark enough that a man like him wouldn’t realize he was being watched. His head hovered between my legs, bobbing back and forth lightly as his tongue stroked my sensitive flesh. His tip traced my inner lips and my opening, parting me gently with every caress.

I felt hot and soppy, needy and desperate for more. I felt like the Sara I never got the chance to be.

Maximus cupped my clit and sucked lightly.

The muscles in my legs tightened, my core clenched, and a flood of wetness pooled out. Maximus rumbled like a bear and dove down to lick up my arousal. I grabbed the top of his head in shock. This felt so dirty and animalistic, something I’d never thought sexy. Bodily fluids had never seemed appealing, but the way Maximus ate me up made me reconsider my assessment. Maximus pulled me harder against his mouth. I could feel his last reservations crumbling, could feel him becoming less careful, and it felt so good. My lips formed an “oh” when he pushed his tongue into me and began to stroke my inner walls. My hips shifted as the sensations grew. Maximus’s thumb rubbed wetness over my clit while his tongue kept thrusting into me. My muscles quivered, and the heat in my core became close to unbearable. A choked cry tumbled from my lips, my legs clamping around Maximus’s head as a wave of pure pleasure exploded from my pussy all through my body, lighting up my nerves like a firework. I clung to Maximus’s arm as I basked in the sensations. It was over far too soon, but at the same time, it felt as if I couldn’t take much more of it.

My chest heaved as I tried to wrap my mind around what had just happened. Maximus sat up. Even in the near dark, I could see him watching me with hungry, possessive eyes. If my head hadn’t already felt hot, I would have flushed now. He stretched out beside me, his breathing faster and deeper than before. We lay like that for a while, then he turned around to me. I thought he’d sleep with me now, but then I felt his hand on my thigh, lightly stroking the sensitive skin there before he moved up between my legs and slowly pushed a finger into me. My teeth buried into my lower lip as I savored the sensation.

“Is this good for you?”

I was far better than good. It felt as if the friction lit up my entire body.

I nodded quickly, not sure I could form words. He slid his finger back out, then slipped it back in. Over and over, soon moving faster and harder. My body yearned for more. As if he could sense my need, he added a second finger. The penetration felt entirely different from during our previous sexual encounters. My body was eager for every thrust, seeking the friction and the delicious sensations it brought. Soon, I was panting uncontrollably again. I knew Maximus was watching me. I could feel his hot breath on my shoulder. His touch didn’t leave room for self-doubt. The sensations were too strong, too overpowering, and when they cumulated and crashed down on me like a wave, I let out a loud moan I’d never considered myself capable of.

Maximus exhaled as he slowed his thrusts until he stilled completely inside me. He pulled his fingers out of me and rested his hand on my belly. My body felt heavy, and the place between my legs was hot and wet.

“Are you ready for sex?” Maximus asked.

I doubted I could ever feel more ready than I did now. Physically at least. I was still scared of my mind. Would it torture me with memories I didn’t want? Or would it allow me to just enjoy the present? “Yes.”

Maximus stretched out beside me. “Maybe it would be good to have you ride me.”

“The chances of conception are higher in a lying position.” It wasn’t the only reason I preferred the missionary position. Sitting on top of Maximus felt too exposing, and I wasn’t experienced enough to feel that daring.

His silence told me it wasn’t the answer he’d wanted. But making a baby was what this was about, even if the unexpected bonus of pleasure had been added to the equation. “And we definitely don’t want to have to do it again, right?”

His sarcasm hit me unprepared. I swallowed. I wasn’t sure where his anger came from. Was he furious because we had to have sex? Was he angry because I wanted him to make me a baby?

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he muttered. But I could tell that he had spoken his true feelings. “We do whatever you want, Sara. If you want me on top, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Thank you,” I said, suddenly not quite as aroused as before. After he sat up, he moved between my legs and stretched out on top of me, but he kept most of his weight off.

He pressed a kiss against my lips, catching me off guard again, but this time in a far more pleasant way. I’d always imagined kissing as something wonderful and connecting, and was sad I never got to experience it in that way. “We need to turn your head off again,” he murmured, moving his hand between our bodies. His fingers found my clit and rubbed it, spreading my own arousal on it.

Soon, I was panting again, my body preparing for another release, but then Maximus pulled his hand away and pressed his tip against my opening.

I drew in a deep breath through my nose, preparing for what came next. This part had always been very uncomfortable, and I didn’t want to get my hopes up that it would be better this time. Even in the dark, I could tell Maximus regarded my face with soul-searching intensity as he shifted his hips. My walls yielded to the pressure, and his tip slipped in.

“Oh.” I exhaled at the fullness that had a very different quality to it than before. As he slid deeper, I could feel every inch of him stroking my sensitive walls. My lashes fluttered, delicious lust filling my core. I still felt stretched and the hint of soreness, but pleasure overshadowed everything. Nothing of what had happened so far reminded me of the past.

Maximus stilled when he was all the way inside me, his expression tight and controlled. “Are you alright?”

His deep rumble made my core clench. He hissed and tensed on top of me. I felt him shift, and the lights came on dimly. “Sara?”

“It feels good,” I admitted, blinking against the soft glow of the lamp on my nightstand. “I need you to move.”

Realization flooded his face, then he smiled. “Your wish is my command.” He pulled back a few inches, then pushed back in with more force than before. I pressed my hands against the mattress, not sure what to do with them. I felt restless.

“Grab my ass. That way, you can show me if you want more.”

After a moment of hesitation, I put my palms on Maximus’s firm ass. It flexed with every thrust. It gave another dimension to what was happening and turned me on even more. Soon, I clung to his ass cheeks and urged him to move deeper and faster.

I could barely breathe, much less think straight. My body was flooded with so much pleasure that I could feel it from my clenched toes up to my puckered nipples.

Maximus’s lips found mine in a messy kiss. “Come for me.”

“You too,” I breathed out.

“Your orgasm will milk my cock, honey, don’t worry.”

His words sent me over the edge. My core clenched as pleasure radiated through my body. My nails sank into Maximus’s ass, my eyes closing in surrender of the powerful lust. Maximus let out a groan, his ass cheeks clenching under my palms, followed by his cock growing even harder inside me, and then I could feel his release deep inside me, filling me up.

My lips parted as I panted, exhausted and mesmerized by the sight of Maximus’s lust-filled expression. During our previous encounters, his expression had been taut with concentration. Seeing him unrestrained like this and knowing he could be like this with me loosened a knot in my chest.

He pushed up on his arms as if he wanted to get up. I squeezed his ass. “Don’t.”

He frowned down at me.

“Our chances are higher if you stay in me for a few more minutes.” My cheeks heated, not just because of the words I’d said but also because it wasn’t the only reason I didn’t want him to pull out yet. My body clung to him, and I simply didn’t want to lose the feeling of our intimate connection. I wanted to enjoy it a little longer. Who knew if I’d ever feel it again?

He lowered himself back on his elbows without a word. The tenseness had returned to his face. No sign of the previous relaxedness anymore. “Of course. We have to make sure this works.”

I peered up at his face, trying to determine the emotion behind the words, but Maximus had closed me off again. Our intimate moment turned awkward soon, and I began to wiggle. “I think we’re fine now.”

Maximus shoved up and got out of bed. “I’ll grab a shower. You probably can’t join me?” He looked at me over his shoulder, already on his way to the bathroom.

I shook my head. I lifted my hips off the mattress because I’d read somewhere that would help. Maximus regarded me for a couple more heartbeats before he left without another word.

I closed my eyes and touched my lower belly. I could still feel the aftershocks of my orgasm and the hot sensation of Maximus’s release inside me. With a glance at the closed bathroom door, I slid my hand lower to feel my pussy. It felt swollen in a way I had never thought possible, and my light touch ignited a new desire that surprised me. With a small smile, I closed my eyes and relished in the sensations.

Eventually, I lowered my hips back to the mattress. The bathroom door opened, and Maximus stepped out, a towel wrapped around his narrow hips. I allowed myself to take in his muscled chest and the tattoos adorning his skin before I realized what I was doing and met his gaze. His expression was wary, and the contentment I’d felt evaporated. In the light from the bathroom, I suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed. I grabbed the sheets and sat up, covering my body.

“I’m heading to bed now,” Maximus said, then paused.

I licked my lip, wondering if I should ask him to stay. I realized I would have liked that. His proximity that had been strange to me before now felt almost familiar. Our movie evenings and now our first enjoyable sex made me want to be even closer to him.

“I’ll leave on the light in case you want to use the bathroom. Sleep tight,” he said as he headed toward the bedroom door. I realized I’d missed the right moment to ask for him to stay. With a heavy heart, I watched him leave and close the door.

When I woke the following morning, I stared at the ceiling for a while, simply enjoying the moment. Today was Saturday, and Maximus had plans to help his parents in the shelter again. I decided to ask him if I could join him. I wanted to make more of an effort not just with Maximus but also with his parents. I had rarely seen them since our wedding, and I felt guilty for it. They probably thought I didn’t like them, which wasn’t true. They had been kind to me, and I wanted to get to know them better.

I glanced at the clock on my wall. It was only seven o’clock, but in the past, Maximus had always left around nine to visit them and dropped me off at my parents on the way there.

I got out of bed. Despite my nerves, I went in search of Maximus. Today was still the highest chance of conception. At the thought of repeating last night, my body warmed, and my core clenched. I was looking forward to Maximus’s touch.

For the first time, the reason I wanted Maximus’s closeness wasn’t centered around having a baby. My body was lusting for his touch, for his lips and tongue. Strangely enough, last night had felt like a liberation. It had cut through one of the shackles of the past that had bound me. I never thought enjoying Maximus’s touch would help me with the past, but it did. I hadn’t even been haunted by nightmares. The two previous times of us having sex to get me pregnant had triggered me into some of my worst nightmares as of yet, but last night, there was absolutely nothing. I hadn’t dreamed at all. A sense of accomplishment filled me. It felt like a small victory against the past and what my head made me want to believe about myself since the incident.

I knew there would still be bad nights and days. The past couldn’t just easily be shaken off, but I felt new hope that I could give my future a new, positive twist.

I went to Maximus’s bedroom. The door was open a gap. I knocked and stepped in, then froze when I spotted Maximus. He only had a towel wrapped around his hips and was naked otherwise. He was toweling his wet hair. I allowed myself to admire his body. He worked out almost every day, and it showed in every inch of his body, from his bulging biceps, over his broad chest to his six-pack and round ass. Even his tattoos hardly bothered me. They were artfully done, especially the forest scene on his right pec and shoulder: intricate firs and broad-leafed trees, a small meadow and a creek. It reminded me of the forest at his parents’ house.

Maximus raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I hit the treadmill early, so I had to shower again. What’s up?”

My face turned hot. His eyes took in my blush, then briefly slid over my body. I still wore my silk nightgown, which probably didn’t hide my hardened nipples. My body felt foreign in its newfound lustfulness.

“I’m still fertile…so…” I trailed off when Maximus’s expression hardened. Talking about fertility always pushed his buttons. I wasn’t sure why it triggered him so much. After all, I’d made it clear from the start that I wanted sex to become pregnant—even if I had enjoyed last night tremendously.

“Now?” he asked, tossing the towel he’d used to dry his hair away. I followed its descent to the floor. Maximus was such a slob.

I nodded. “If that’s okay for you?”

“I told you, I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

He lowered his arms to his sides and waited for me to say something. I wanted him to enjoy it too. I didn’t want him to do it only for me. That was a new development I hadn’t expected.

“Then I want us to do it now,” I said firmly.

Maximus glanced toward the window. The sheer curtains protected us from the outside, but they let in the sunlight. “I can close the drapes if you want darkness.”

I quickly shook my head. “No, it’s fine this way.”

Even if having Maximus’s eyes on me was new and embarrassed me, it also added to the excitement.

“In my bed?” Maximus motioned at his bed. It was unmade, not that it mattered. For what we had in mind, it didn’t need to be made.

I smiled, feeling unsure how to proceed. Did Maximus want me to act?

He took the decision from me and came toward me. He lightly touched my waist as he lowered his lips to mine. I immediately stepped up on my tiptoes to make it easier for him. His tongue sought entrance and I closed my eyes. Soon he deepened the kiss while his hands massaged my waist. I wanted them higher and lower. I wanted them everywhere. As if he could read my mind, or maybe my body, one of his hands moved down and under my nightgown. My panties were soaked and when he slid his fingers under them to stroke my heated flesh a new wave of wetness pooled out of me. “Sara.”

His low rumble of my name when he felt how aroused I was only made me more desperate for more. Maximus took my hand and led me toward his bed. I sat on the edge, waiting for him to join me but instead he knelt on the floor and pushed up my nightgown. “Lie back and lift your hips.”

I did both and when he pulled my panties down, my body was already brimming with joyful anticipation.

Like last night, Maximus took care of me first. And he didn’t rush things either. With his head buried between my legs, his lips, tongue and fingers made me forget everything around me. My body was sweaty, and the spot between my legs swollen and soppy from three orgasms before he got to his feet again. He dropped his towel, and my lips parted in surprise at the sight of his erection. My eyes moved up to the tattoos on his shoulders and chest, wondering why I had been so against tattoos before.

Apart from the inked “Nemesis” on his hand, the Famiglia tattoos were the only words on his body:

Born in Blood,

Sworn in Blood,

I enter alive

and I’ll leave dead.

They were written in cursive on his left pec and the head of a pitbull adorned his left bicep. The forest scene that sleeved his right arm, shoulder and pec was my favorite. Though they were all beautiful tattoos and made Maximus look magnificent. I couldn’t imagine him without them.

Realizing how long I’d stared, I quickly scooted up, and he climbed between my legs. He was still careful as he slid into me, but soon his motions became faster and harder.

Afterward, he didn’t immediately get up. He lay on his back beside me and stared up at the ceiling, his chest heaving.

I lowered my hips after a while, hoping this fertile window would give me what I wanted. I slanted Maximus a look. His expression was unreadable, but I was fairly sure it wasn’t happy.

“Would you mind if I came to your parents’ with you today? Maybe I can help in some way that doesn’t involve handling any dogs?”

Maximus turned his head to me, surprise taking over his face. His amber eyes were even more breathtaking when they weren’t swirling with darkness. “You sure? I thought you made plans with your family?” I’d never noticed it before, but when he said “your family,” his tone definitely changed. I knew his relationship with my family was as distant as mine with his. Again, it was my fault. Well, and Flavio wasn’t fond of Maximus because of what had happened and I’d never been brave enough to talk to him about it.

“Maybe we could go to them tomorrow for dinner?”

Maximus nodded. He regarded me as if he was trying to understand me. I gave him a small smile. Something changed last night, and I really wanted to make an effort with Maximus. If I got pregnant, I wanted our child to have parents who weren’t mere strangers. I didn’t want to get my hopes up that we might be able to create a marriage like my parents had.

Maximus’s eyes sought the clock on the wall, and he grimaced. “We’ll be late if we don’t hurry.”

We both hurried toward our respective bathroom, and for the first time, I wondered if it wouldn’t be nice to shower together after sex.

I put on sturdy jeans and a sweater plus a pair of old leather boots. I really wanted to help Maximus and his family in the shelter today, and pretty clothes wouldn’t be practical. Maximus waited for me in front of the entrance door when I grabbed my raincoat. The weather was still quite unpredictable, and I didn’t want to risk getting a cold. That probably wouldn’t help with a possible pregnancy.

Maximus too was dressed for a day of hard manual work. He wore blue jeans, a casual, tight white T-shirt, a half-unbuttoned checkered flannel shirt, and a weathered brown-lined leather jacket. He held a cap in his hand but put his on when I reached him. “Ready?”

I wasn’t sure why I did it, but I reached for his chin, brushing over the growing beard. “This doesn’t qualify as a three-day stubble anymore. Are you growing a beard?”

I lowered my hand, embarrassed that I’d touched him like that, which didn’t really make sense, considering we had just slept with each other. But this felt more intimate in certain ways.

“I’m not sure yet. I kind of like it. I’m not sure I’m the beard type.”

“It suits you,” I said with a small smile, then quickly looked at my watch. “We’ll definitely be late.”

On our ride to the shelter, which took us roughly thirty minutes since the streets weren’t jammed, I was nervous. As with Maximus, my relationship with his parents and brother had been distant. I hadn’t really tried to see them outside of social functions or the obligatory duty visits on Christmas, Easter, and the respective birthdays. They would be surprised to see me today. Building new relationships still made me feel insecure, especially since we’d started off on the wrong foot.

Growl and Primo were already outside, building a dog hut in a small barn with the doors open. They greeted us with a brief wave when we got out.

“Mom’s inside, preparing a second breakfast since you were too late for the first,” Primo said pointedly.

I flushed. His gaze moved from me to Maximus and he cocked an eyebrow. I hoped they didn’t share any intimate details.

Maximus waved him off. “Don’t pretend you won’t be hungry for a second breakfast in no time.”

Growl tapped Primo’s shoulder. “Let’s focus on this. Stop teasing your brother.”

Maximus touched my lower back and guided me into the house. Cara was hustling in the kitchen, making sandwiches and baking muffins.

“I’m not a great baker, but I reckon I can’t do much wrong with chocolate muffins, right?” She came toward me with a warm smile and pulled me into a hug. “We’re so happy that you could join us today.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” I whispered.

She shook her head and squeezed my shoulder with an even warmer smile before she moved on to Maximus and cupped his face with a motherly look. “A beard?”

Watching Cara treat Maximus with motherly tenderness reminded me of what Isa had said: that Maximus might also be dealing with trauma. I knew I was asking a lot from him without giving him much in return, and I promised myself to pay more attention to his little signs.

He patted her hands and gently removed them. “I think your muffins are done.”

She turned around to the oven and pulled out the muffin tin. None of the tiny cakes had risen from their molds. A glance at them told me they were way too dense.

Cara sighed. “This doesn’t look good.”

“They don’t have to look good. They just have to taste good,” Maximus said, taking out a muffin despite his mother’s warning that it was hot. He took a bite, then chewed heavily before he gave his mother a grimace.

“Not good?” she asked. He shook his head and swallowed in a way that suggested the dough was as dry as desert sand.

“Would you like me to bake chocolate cookies? I have a foolproof recipe with sea salt and macadamia nuts.”

“I’m outside helping my dad and brother,” Maximus informed me, pausing as if there was more he wanted to say before he left.

Cara helped me gather all the ingredients, and I whipped up the batter in ten minutes.

“Tea?” she asked.

Together, we settled at the kitchen table with two mugs of tea as we waited for the cookies to bake. Outside, a chainsaw roared up, followed by the screech of it biting into wood.

The barking of dogs from upstairs reminded me that Maximus and his family always locked away their dogs when I came to visit. Now that I’d decided to become a more active part of the Trevisan family, I had to get used to their dogs.

“You can let them out of their prison,” I said with an embarrassed laugh.

Cara seemed surprised by the suggestion. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“If I don’t face my fears, they won’t go away.” Last night had shown me that. I knew it wasn’t as easy as that and certainly not something that happened from one day to the other, but I had to start somewhere.

The oven beeped. I got up and removed the perfect chocolate cookies from the oven, setting them on the stove.

“Are you sure?” Cara asked as she hovered in the doorway.

“Yes.”

She disappeared, followed by the soft creak of the wooden floorboards upstairs. Excited barking rang out, followed by the sound of paws rushing down the stairs. My heart rate picked up, and I had to force myself to stand still and not let panic get the better of me.

To my relief, the dogs barely spared me a glance. Instead, they all rushed out through the doggy door. I glanced out of the kitchen window to watch them greet Maximus excitedly. Especially the huge white dog, Bacon, almost ran him over in his excitement, which wasn’t an easy feat. Maximus laughed, his face transforming to contentment. Then as if he remembered that I was here with him, a frown took over his expression, and he looked toward me. He nodded toward the house as he said something to his father and brother, then he approached the front door.

Shortly after he stepped into the kitchen, still with his shoes on. It always bothered me. I knew Cara and Growl didn’t mind. They said the dogs used the same paws inside and outside so dirt got in anyway, but I had been raised that shoes didn’t belong inside the house.

“Are you okay?” Maximus asked. Cara, who had been busy preparing coffee for a cookie and coffee break for the men, sent him a frustrated look. “Sara asked me to release the dogs. She wants to get to know them.”

Getting to know them. Well, I would be happy if my body didn’t automatically jump to flight mode whenever a dog came my way.

I gave him a smile. “It’s true. I have to get used to them.”

I could tell by the warm look in Maximus eyes how much he appreciated my willingness. Bacon came inside to be with Maximus and approached me curiously. His tail wagged lightly and he sniffed at my legs carefully.

“If you want, you can hold your hand out to him. It’s a friendly way of saying hi to a dog.”

I extended my hand, which shook slightly. Maximus came to my side. Bacon pressed up to him excitedly again before he sniffed my fingers with mild interest. I was surprised the other dogs hadn’t joined him yet, but I assumed that Maximus had asked his brother and father to keep them outside.

“I used to be terrified of Ryan’s dogs. You remind me of my past self,” Cara said.

“I really can’t imagine you being afraid of dogs,” I said. I knew the story of how Growl had received Cara as a sort of gift by the crazy former Capo of the Camorra. I wasn’t sure how they had made it work. It seemed like a difficult thing to overcome.

Maximus reached past me for a cookie, and his arm brushed mine, sending a pleasant shiver through my body. Our gazes locked, then he straightened and took a bite from the cookie.

“Oh, and the potter’s wheels and the oven arrived,” Cara said.

My eyes widened. I had completely forgotten that Maximus wanted to get them. “Potter’s wheels?”

“I ordered two,” Maximus said with a shrug. “One for our apartment and one for here, in case you ever feel like doing pottery when we’re visiting.”

I stood on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

Cara quickly retreated and pretended to be busy with something in the pantry. Maximus put an arm around my back and kissed my lips as if it was the most natural thing in our marriage, and surprisingly it didn’t feel strange at all. “You’re welcome.”

He released me and I had to resist the urge to touch my lips.

“Do you want us to look at them?”

Fifteen minutes later, Primo and Maximus were cursing as they were trying to put up the heavy pottery wheel in the barn. I knew a new round of curses would follow once they tried to put the second wheel on the bed of Maximus’s truck.

Something wet touched my hand. I jumped in surprise. Bacon stood beside me and had touched his nose to my palm. I swallowed, then held out my hand to him. He sniffed then licked over it. I giggled. I’d have to remember to wash my hand later. But it was kind of a sweet gesture of the dog, almost as if he was trying to become my friend. I lightly patted his back how Maximus had shown me and Bacon sat down beside me. Well, he planted his butt right on top of my boot and pressed his side against my leg.

“If he gets too heavy, just shove him away. I think he’s taking a shining to you,” Maximus said as he entered the kitchen followed by his brother.

“Just wait until he prefers her and doesn’t let you get into bed with her,” Primo said with a laugh.

A look passed between Maximus and I. We still didn’t share a bed, but maybe it was time to change that.

Sara came into the kitchen still in her nightgown. Since her fertile days two weeks ago, we hadn’t had sex again, but I had thought about it often. Having seen Sara’s passionate side and knowing I could bring it out had definitely changed how I saw her—how I allowed myself to see her. But I hadn’t made a move toward Sara and she hadn’t approached me either. Maybe for her the sex had really only been about the baby, even if she’d enjoyed it. She hadn’t faked enjoying it. She’d been too wet for that.

One look at her face told me she didn’t have good news. “I’m not pregnant. I got my period today.”

“Maybe next time,” I said. Part of me wasn’t sad. I definitely wanted to have sex with Sara again and this gave me the opportunity, no matter how sad of a reality it was that my wife only wanted me close for reproduction.

Sara released a small sigh and sank down across from me. “Maybe two times wasn’t enough. The fertile window can be up to four days long. Next time we should give it more attempts.”

“Of course,” I said. She wouldn’t have to convince me to sleep more often with her. Now that she enjoyed it, I wouldn’t mind having sex every day. Fuck, I wanted to fuck her now. She looked absolutely gorgeous with her bed hair and the thin silk nightgown.

But unless something changed drastically, my hand would have to do the job until Sara gave the go again in two weeks.

“I don’t have to work today,” I said. “Do you want to spend the day together?”

Surprise crossed her face. “Sure.” Then she grimaced. “I’m supposed to meet with Greta for lunch.”

Greta and Sara had started doing things together, and they seemed to get along quite well.

“I could ask Amo to join us, then we can do a double date.”

Sara blinked at me. “That would be our first public date.”

I nodded. We hadn’t gone out as a couple yet, except for the social functions we were forced to attend. We hadn’t even shared a nice dinner yet. Movie night was our go to date night. It didn’t require us to talk and possible encounter any awkwardness. Maybe it was a good thing to start as a double date so things couldn’t get awkward.

I gave Amo a call and we decided to make a couples weekend at the holiday house of Amo’s family in the Hamptons. Since Amo was my boss too, he could tell me to take another day off. I didn’t mind having the entire weekend for Sara.

Sara and I quickly packed our bags before we headed out. In the car, I turned up the music to my favorite Metallica album Kill ’Em All. The first chords of “Hit the Lights” came on, Sara slanted me a look.

“What is it?” she asked.

My eyebrows climbed my forehead. “Metallica.”

“Oh, I only know ‘Nothing else matters’ from them. This piece is new to me.”

I shook my head. “Then you don’t know their best work. I often listen to them when I work, and in the car. I like other music too but they are my staple.” I fell silent.

Sara watched me with a small smile.

“If you don’t like it, we can switch to something you enjoy,” I said with a shrug.

“No, I think it’s nice to get to know this part of you.”

“What’s your favorite music?”

Sara flushed. “You’ll laugh.”

“I won’t.”

“Taylor Swift. I love her music.”

“It fits you. I didn’t expect you to listen to Heavy Metal or Grunge.”

Sara let out a small laugh. The sound was beautiful and when her face lit up like that, it made her look even more kissable. She was kissable all over. I wanted to do it more often. Fuck, I just wanted to lean over and kiss her senseless right now. But my moment of hesitation allowed by my brain to infuse all kinds of worries in my head that stopped me.

I wondered when our past wouldn’t hang like a Damocles sword over our heads anymore.

Sara relaxed in the seat and looked out of the window. Then she turned back to me. “I hope you don’t mind if I just look out of the window? I love to just watch the scenery pass by when I’m in a car.”

“Not at all,” I said.

The silence that ensued wasn’t uncomfortable like many of our past. It was deliberate, not out of awkwardness and lack of topics to discuss.

When we pulled up in front of the house, Amo’s car was already parked in front. I had visited his family’s mansion in the Hamptons only a couple of times. It was usually a place where he and his family went to unwind. We’d once organized a party there, though, and his father had been majorly pissed when he’d found out.

“I’m always in awe when I come here. It’s just a beautiful place,” Sara said.

I jumped out of my truck and opened the door for Sara. “Is this something you’d want?” I wasn’t sure why I was asking. A house in the Hamptons, even a much smaller one than this, was currently not in my budget. Not to mention that I didn’t feel like I belonged in the Hamptons. I loved the woodsy less posh area where my parents lived. I loved that nobody complained when I wandered through the woods without a shirt, when my dog barked out of joy, and that nobody told us what to do on our own premises. Not that Luca ever gave a fuck what the HOA said, but just the fact that an association like that existed in the neighborhood was reason enough for me not to consider buying a house there.

“A place in the Hamptons?” she asked with wide eyes.

I hoped she didn’t think it was actually on the menu.

She shook her head. “I like to come here once or twice a year because it’s just a place where I spent many summer days as a child, but this isn’t a place I want or need.”

I grabbed our luggage from the trunk, trying not to show my relief over Sara’s reply. We went to the front door and rang the bell. Nobody answered.

“Maybe they’re in the garden?”

“Maybe,” I said. I was sure that Amo had an alarm on his phone that alerted him of visitors.

I entered the code into the keypad and it glowed green before the lock released. Sara made a move as if to open the door but I touched her arm.

“Stay behind me. I want to make sure everything’s all right.”

Concern crossed her face. “Do you think something happened?” She swallowed hard. “That someone’s in there?”

“I doubt it but I won’t risk anything.” Our gazes locked and Sara gave a small nod, then she lightly touched my arm, before she stepped behind me. This small touch made my heart beat faster. It had almost felt like a hint of absolution.

I pulled my gun before I opened the door and stepped into the wide entrance hall with the wide staircase. It was absolutely silent inside. Slowly, Sara and I made our way into the mansion.

When we reached the panorama windows overlooking the premises and the ocean, and we still hadn’t found Amo or Greta I began to get suspicious for a very different reason. I didn’t think this had something to do with an attack. I knew Amo could hardly think about anything but Greta and had trouble keeping his hands off her.

That’s why I wasn’t surprised when I spotted Amo and Greta coming out of the small boat house at the pier a few minutes later. Amo was still closing his belt, and Greta was smoothing her hair down.

“Oh,” Sara said when she realized what was up. Her face turned red, and she gave me an awkward smile. “Maybe they would have preferred to be alone here.”

“We won’t stop them from getting it on, trust me.”

Sara let out a tight laugh.

Greta and Amo entered the living room through the french windows. After brief hugs, Greta said, “Have you picked a bedroom yet?”

Sara’s eyes widened slightly. Fuck. I hated admitting that my wife and I still didn’t share a bed. I trusted Amo, but even I felt embarrassed by the state of my marriage at this point.

“We’re picking one now,” I said firmly. I’d given Sara plenty of time but I had a feeling she wouldn’t do the next step if I didn’t push her. It had been the same with our sex life. I wanted things to progress. I wanted my wife by my side at night. End of story.

“Come on,” Maximus held out his hand and I took it. I was surprised that Maximus wanted to share a bedroom with me. Maybe it was only for appearance’s sake?

His hand was warm around mine. His grip firm but not too firm. He led me upstairs then stopped in the hallway and faced me. “I want to share a bed. I’m your husband and I’m done living like roommates. I don’t expect you to have sex with me but I want us to share a bed.”

I wished he hadn’t added the last part because I would have really like to have sex again, even if I wasn’t fertile.

“That’s okay,” I said simply. “The second bedroom on the left is my favorite.”

We stepped into the bright room. It had a splendid look over the premises and the ocean. The king-sized bed and the decorations were kept in a maritime style, with lots of white and blues, shells and seagulls as decorations. I loved the place.

Maximus watched me. “If you’re okay with sharing a bed, why did you never suggest it before?”

I turned around fully. “I don’t know. I felt awkward. I wasn’t sure if that’s what you wanted. Why didn’t you?”

“Sara, you’re my wife. And I want to act like your husband, not just be him on paper. And the reason I just don’t decide these things is our past. Of course I could just tell you to share a bed with me, but I need to know you’re okay with it.”

Now, I regretted not having brought up the matter a couple of weeks ago like I’d intended to do. “I am.”

He released a low breath. “I need you to tell me if you’re okay with other things too. I don’t want to push you.”

“I know, and I’ll try to be more proactive. I like that you kissed me that day at your parents. I wouldn’t mind if you do it more often.”

“All right,” he said and stepped up to me. He cupped my cheeks, tilted my head up, lowered his head slowly, and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. I smiled, amazed at how good this small gesture felt.

He cleared his throat, his amber eyes locked on mine, and slowly pulled back. Then he stopped before the distance between us grew too much, and with a small chuckle, he bent down and kissed me again. “I needed another one. Now I’ll get our luggage.”

I nodded. When he’d disappeared out of the door, I released a small breath and touched my lips. Closing my eyes, I enjoyed this moment of utter contentment.

“Sara?” Greta called.

I stepped out into the hallway just when Greta came up the staircase. She’d straightened her short dark hair. Part of it had burned off when she’d been attacked a few months ago. The mafia world was cruel, especially to women. She looked good with shorter hair, though. Her pretty doll face always looked good.

“We want to make a bonfire and roast marshmallows and hot dogs.”

I raised my eyebrows. “That doesn’t sound vegan.” I wasn’t an expert on vegan food, but since I’d started to become friends with Greta, I’d done some research.

“They’re not. But I got vegan marshmallow and vegan mini wieners for myself, and you’ll have the non-vegan version.”

We headed downstairs together. Maximus and Amo were outside, stacking logs in the big firepit close to the pier.

Greta and I began to prepare the hot dogs and a tray with marshmallows. She pulled out a bottle of red wine from the cabinet. “I’m in the mood for mulled wine. What about you?”

I hesitated. Alcohol wasn’t really beneficial if I wanted to get pregnant, but I had my period anyway, so it was still some time before my next fertile window rolled around.

Greta furrowed her brows. “Are you pregnant?” Her voice was curious and neutral, but I wondered if this was a hard topic for her, considering what had happened to her. She would never be able to carry a baby, and the idea almost brought tears to my eyes, but I didn’t want to ruin our evening by becoming overly emotional, especially since Greta wasn’t prone to emotional outbursts.

I shook my head with a tight smile. “No, I’m not.”

“Was it rude of me to ask?”

“We’re friends, it’s okay.” But I knew it could soon become a very loaded question.

Greta regarded me, the bottle of wine still in her hand. “I won’t ask again.”

“Let’s drink mulled wine.” We warmed the wine with some spices before we poured it into four cups and moved out. The men had started a fire and lounged on the wooden chairs around the firepit.

I handed Maximus a mug and sank into the chair beside him with my mug. Amo pulled Greta on his lap and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Cheers,” Maximus said, raising his mug. We all did the same, then took a sip. The warmth and tartness of the mulled wine helped with the bout of jealousy I felt at the easygoing affection those two shared. Maximus caught my eyes, and with the way the flames reflected in his amber eyes, they seemed to burn. I gave him a reassuring smile.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

I nodded. The sun was setting on the horizon. Soon, it was getting cold despite the fire.

Maximus rose to his feet and went back to the mansion, only to return with three blankets shortly after. He draped one over my legs.

“Thank you.”

Then he handed one to Greta before he sank down in his chair and covered his legs with the last blanket.

“Hey, what about me?” Amo asked with raised eyebrows.

“Greta has a blanket, and you have Greta,” Maximus said pointedly.

I stifled laughter.

Amo leaned back with a challenging look. “You could use your wife as a source of warmth too.”

I flushed. Greta turned to Amo and gave him a questioning look. Gathering my courage, I got up. Maximus’s alarmed expression told me he thought I was about to leave. I was sensitive, but not that bad. “I wouldn’t mind some additional warmth.”

Maximus’s expression morphed to confusion, then surprise. He raised the blanket, and I sank down on his lap. I leaned slightly against his back and tugged my legs up. It felt good but mostly strange and awkward, especially because Greta and Amo were watching us. It wasn’t as physically uncomfortable as I thought. Maximus was broad and tall, so he could easily accommodate me, but his hard muscles didn’t really invite snuggling. Maximus covered us with his blanket. Silence fell over us as we drank more wine and ate marshmallows and wieners.

Eventually, I grew tired. When I had my period, I always needed more sleep.

“I’ll go to bed if you don’t mind,” I said quietly and climbed off his lap. Maximus rose to his feet as well.

“You don’t have to come.”

“I won’t let you go by yourself,” Maximus said.

“The premises are highly guarded. Nobody comes in without us knowing,” Amo said.

Maximus scowled at him. Greta had fallen asleep on his lap and was curled up like a cat against him. “I won’t risk anything. She won’t be alone in the house. Or would you leave Greta without protection ever again?”

Darkness passed Amo’s face. He nodded, and a look of understanding passed between him and Maximus. They had both failed to protect someone in their eyes. Our situations were different, but I supposed their guilt was the same.

I understood guilt and how irrational it could be

“Let’s go,” Maximus rumbled as he turned back to me. He lightly touched my back as we walked to the house. When we moved up the stairs, I remembered that we wouldn’t split up like we usually did. Tonight, we’d share a bed for the first time.

Nerves made my belly cramp. It was funny that I was nervous about something as mundane as sleeping in the same bed when we’d already had sex.

I headed to the en suite bathroom right away to get changed, hoping to calm myself that way. Our relationship had been at an absolute standstill for a long time, but suddenly, it was progressing quickly, and sometimes it was difficult for my brain to catch up.

When I’d packed my bag, I hadn’t considered that someone would see me in my pajamas. I wasn’t someone who walked around the house in their pj’s when I shared it with people I didn’t know that well yet—like Amo and Greta. I could probably have included Maximus too, even if our interactions grew more frequent and warmer. I always got dressed before I left my bedroom. I had two options to choose from: comfy, red-and-white-checkered flannel pajamas or a thin nightgown. Sometimes I got hot flashes when I had my period, so I’d chosen to pack the latter, but it seemed too revealing. Maybe I would have picked it if I wasn’t on my period, but even then, I would have probably opted for the safer option.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Maximus was only in his jeans. The sight of his upper body let heat rise into my cheeks. My eyes registered the outline of a new tattoo on his back. The only tattoo there so far was a paw on one shoulder and a continuation of the forest scene on the other. Now, there was an outline of an oak tree, our oak tree, and a snake wrapped around the roots of the tree, its head rising all the way up to the crown.

It wasn’t filled out yet, but it would be an impressive tattoo once it was done.

“Why the snake?” I asked.

Maximus turned to me. “The snake symbolizes my sins and the tree the consequences of them. It’s a warning and a memorial.”

I bit my lip and nodded slowly. “I told you I don’t blame you.”

Maximus gave me a tight smile. “I know. And I’ll still spend the rest of my life making amends for what I did.”

He walked into the bathroom and closed the door. I sighed.

I wondered how I could free him of his guilt. I blamed the men who captured us, our world, the Bratva, but not Maximus. His guilt would stop us from moving on. But who was I to tell him about letting go of his guilt when I still blamed myself for losing our baby? Guilt was toxic; it was insistent and difficult to get rid of.

I slipped under the covers but didn’t grab the book I’d taken with me for my bedtime reading. Isa had recommended it to me, and I really enjoyed it, but it would be rude to read when Maximus and I shared a bed for the first time. Right?

I blew out a breath and regarded my fingers on the white covers. I needed to get a new manicure. When I started pottery, I turned to acryl gel because even pottery couldn’t get rid of it. My nail polish usually chipped off within an hour of being at the potter’s wheel. I didn’t realize Maximus was beside the bed until he spoke up, “Is something wrong with your fingers?”

“I need to get French nails again,” I said, then flushed because it was such a stupid thing to say, vain and completely irrelevant to Maximus.

He sank down on the bed beside me with a deep frown. “Aren’t there any good nail places around here?”

I blinked at him, then burst out laughing. “They’re not from France. It’s just the style.”

He chuckled. “Ahh. I don’t know much about makeup and that stuff.”

“It’s all right. You don’t have to.” My smile became a bit tighter when my nerves rose again. Maximus wore only black boxers, revealing his impressive muscles. He slipped under the covers but left a gap between us. I scrambled for something halfway intelligent to say. We’d been married for over a year, but this moment right here showed we still had a lot of work to do to become a real married couple.

Maximus nodded toward the book on my nightstand. “You can read. I don’t mind.”

“What about you?”

Maximus leaned back against the headboard. “I usually only go to bed to sleep, or…” From the look on his face, I knew what he was referring to.

“Oh, I’m actually really tired, so I don’t even want to read anymore.”

My face felt as if it would combust at any moment.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Get some sleep.”

He stretched out on his back and rested his hands on his stomach. I doubted he could sleep like that. It looked incredibly uncomfortable.

I scooted down and turned on my side, facing him because it would have seemed rude to turn my back on him. He slanted me a look. “Is this weird?” he asked.

I bit my lower lip. “It’s new. And weird.” I let out a laugh, relieved he had mentioned it.

“It’ll get better.” His brows drew together as if he wasn’t sure that was true.

“If we work on it and share a bed at our apartment as well,” I said softly.

Maximus turned on his side. “You want to share a bed at home?” At home… I never called it that. Maybe because it hadn’t felt like that since I hadn’t put any work into it. But I wanted a child to live there, so it should be a home.

“We could try if tonight goes well and you don’t steal my blanket or kick me?” I gave him a hesitant smile.

His lips pulled into a small smile. Cautious hope brightened his eyes. “I’ll do my best,” he said in that low, deep voice that enthralled me more and more every day.

I wasn’t sure what I would have done if I weren’t on my period, but I was glad that I didn’t have to find out how brave I was.

I was woken in the middle of the night by Maximus tossing and turning in bed. He was mumbling in his sleep, incoherent words, but they rang with distress. It took my sleepy mind a couple of minutes to realize Maximus was having a nightmare.

I touched Maximus’s shoulder, and as expected, he woke immediately. He sat up abruptly, causing my hand to slip off his shoulder. I turned on the lamp. Squinting against the sudden brightness, I watched Maximus’s face. He was sweaty, and a deep frown pulled at his brows.

“You had a nightmare.”

“I did.”

I licked my lips, nervous. “Have you always suffered from nightmares?”

Maximus smiled darkly. “No. I had a couple of nightmares after the dogs attact my brother and me, and then for a very long time, nothing. Until the thing with Jabba happened. After that, nightmares are part of my nights.”

I put my hand on his. “I’m sorry. You always seem so tough, so I keep forgetting that you have to deal with your own trauma from that day.”

Maximus curled his fingers around my hand. “You don’t have to worry about me, alright? My trauma, or whatever you want to call it, is nothing. Definitely nothing I want you to waste your energy on. I want you to get past your trauma. That’s all that matters to me.”

Even though I was touched by his words and tempted to bury myself in my own trauma as I had done previously, I didn’t want that for us anymore.

“That’s not how it should be in a marriage. I want you to know that your feelings matter to me, and I want to take them into consideration. I know I haven’t done a good job of that in the past.”

Maximus didn’t contradict me. Instead, he tried to lighten the mood. “Does waking you up with my nightmare equal stealing your blanket?”

“No. I still want to share a bed with you at home.”

If I’d known that spending a weekend in the Hamptons with Amo and Greta and their nonstop public displays of affection would lead to Sara and me sharing a bed, I would have done it a long time ago, even if I felt like a weakling for waking her with my nightmare. Sara was still asleep beside me, curled up on her side, her lips slightly parted. The blanket had gathered at her waist, but her pajamas protected her modesty well. I stifled a chuckle.

I had briefly harbored hope that she would wear something sexy and maybe even be up for some intimacy after our last sexual encounters, but I shouldn’t be surprised that Sara wasn’t up for sex during her period. I had no business being bitter about it. Fuck, I should be grateful she tolerated my closeness at all. We made progress, and that was enough.

Her eyes fluttered open, and a look of confusion passed on her face before she sat up with a shy smile. “Hey, how long have you watched me sleep?”

“I didn’t really watch you. I was lost in thoughts.”

She sent me a doubtful look. “What were you thinking about?”

I considered lying, but that wasn’t what I wanted for this marriage. “About our progress.”

“That’s good, right?”

“It’s good,” I agreed.

When we returned home in the afternoon, Sara made me move my stuff to the primary bedroom. I was still cautious, so I didn’t take everything with me. It would spare me work if things didn’t go well.

As with our first night together, Sara and I only slept in the same bed. We didn’t touch or cuddle, much less have passionate sex like I was hoping for.

I snuck out of bed and hit the gym early as usual. It spared us the awkwardness when we woke up beside each other and helped me wake up for the day. My sleep was still bad. I often woke because of nightmares, and if I didn’t wake because of my own, I woke because I wanted to check on Sara to see if her sleep was fitful. To my surprise, she hadn’t woken screaming yet.

I was doing muscle ups when Sara came in, already dressed for the day in jeans and a wool sweater. Her hair was up in a loose updo, and she wore no makeup, but she still looked gorgeous.

“Good morning,” she said with a small smile. “I was wondering if it would be okay if I did some pottery. I want to try the wheel you got me.”

I glanced at the potter’s wheel in one corner of the room, next to the window. I’d gotten rid of my row machine to make room for it. “Sure.”

“Do you want some coffee?”

“Later. Not during my workout.”

Sara nodded but left and returned a couple of minutes later with a coffee mug and a bucket of water. She gathered a bag of clay, then began to gather everything else she needed around herself. She turned the wheel on and slapped a piece of clay on the rotating disk before wetting her hands with water. She positioned herself on the small stool in front of the wheel and began to touch the clay. Soon, it transformed into a tower, then she pressed it down again and let it rise to an even higher creation that reminded me a bit of a cock. An image my brain really didn’t need, especially as I watched Sara stroke and rub the damn thing.

I turned my attention back to the muscle up bar, but it was hard to focus with Sara in a room. She looked even prettier as she concentrated on lovingly caressing that piece of mud.

Who would have thought I’d ever be jealous of clay?

Sara slanted me a look. Then turned back to the clay. She didn’t seem to have trouble focusing on her task. I grabbed my towel and rubbed my hair dry, then went to the kitchen to grab a coffee before returning to the gym room. Sara gave me a distracted smile when I sank down on my bench and drank my coffee while watching her work.

A delicate blush crept up her neck and cheeks. “Isn’t this boring for you?”

I shook my head. “It’s kind of hypnotic.”

She laughed. “I guess.” She slanted me another look, and this time, her gaze definitely lingered on my upper body, which was naked.

I wondered what she thought. “Do my tattoos still bother you?”

She tilted her head. “They never really bothered me. I never liked tattoos, but I like them on you. They’re part of you.”

“Good.” I had another appointment tomorrow to continue my back tattoo. It was difficult because of the burn scars. They weren’t too bad, but scarring always complicated tattoo art.

I kept watching Sara as I drank my coffee, deciding it gave me a sense of peace I really needed before a long day at work.

“Do you want to try it?”

Her question took me by surprise. Doing pottery hadn’t been on my bucket list. My expression made her laugh.

“Or is this too unmanly or uncool for you?” she teased with a pretty smile.

“I’m comfortable in my manliness.” I put the mug down and got up.

Sara rose from the small stool and motioned for me to take her place.

“I’ll be honest. That thing doesn’t look as if it can carry my weight,” I said as I stepped up to her side.

“That’s oak.”

I shrugged and folded myself onto the stool under Sara’s amused eyes.

She pressed against my back and bent over me until she reached my hands. She guided them toward the rotating piece of clay. It felt sticky and cold but soon became warmer under my touch. Sara moved my hands up and down until the thing resembled a massive dick again. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. “This is by far the weirdest thing I’ve done in my life.”

Sara pursed her lips. “Really?”

“At least it confirms what I knew—I’m not into guys.”

Sara started laughing. “If you put your fingers into the top, it will open up to a vase.”

I closed my eyes. “Not sure you’re making it better with your instructions. This sounds like a kink that should be up on OnlyFans.”

When I opened my eyes again, I was met with her indignant expression. “Come on, don’t tell me you think a man doing pottery is sexy.”

“It’s craft. It doesn’t have to be sexy.”

“It looks sexy when you do it.”

Her pleased smile told me that was the right answer.

On the following weekend, Maximus and I visited his parents again. We now always tried to spend one day of the weekend with my family and one with his unless Maximus had to work. Sometimes he only had to disappear for a couple of hours if a job waited for him, and sometimes he was gone all day. If that was the case, I visited my family or spent the day with Isa. Going to his parents on my own wasn’t something I’d done yet.

“Maybe we can all do something together as a big family,” I suggested as I cleaned out dozens of dog bowls with a water hose. I wore knee-high winter boots, but part of my short skirt and wool tights had gotten wet by the time I’d figured out how to regulate the water jet. Next time I planned to help in the shelter, I’d have to wear more appropriate clothes.

Maximus put down the huge log and looked up. “They could come over next weekend, and we’ll have a barbecue and sit around the fire pit.”

I followed Maximus’s gaze toward the small but cozy firepit beside the house. “That sounds good. I’ll ask them.”

Maximus grabbed his axe and swung it over his head, splitting the wood.

Bacon perked up. He and the other dogs rested on the porch. They didn’t like water very much, so they’d run off the moment I’d started cleaning the bowls. I wasn’t as nervous around them anymore. Sometimes I was angry with myself for taking so long, over a year, to finally be a part of Maximus’s family and life. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come here with you.”

Maximus paused with a thoughtful look. He put the axe down and came over to me. He gently touched my cheek. “I don’t blame you, nor do my parents. It was understandable after what happened. And it’s not too late. We still have our whole life ahead of us.”

I nodded with a small smile, then gathered my courage and stood on my tiptoes. Maximus lowered his head so I could give him a peck on the lips. I took a step back, glancing at the porch to see if his parents had seen us.

Maximus chuckled and returned to his axe. Before he picked it up again, he removed his shirt. He definitely ran hotter than I did.

I cleared my throat. “I’ll warm up inside for a bit, but I’ll be back soon.”

What a stupid thing to say. I felt hot simply because of our shared moment of intimacy.

I couldn’t deny it. I wanted Maximus. My fertile days were over. There was absolutely no reason to be intimate with Maximus, but seeing him with his bare chest, sweaty and swinging an axe, and remembering how impossibly good he’d made me feel, my body screamed for his touch. I tingled and even felt hot and wet between my legs. The short peck had poured gasoline into my kindling desire.

I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me. Maximus swung the axe again, his muscles flexing. The concentration edged into his face accentuated the rough attractiveness of his face. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his forearm. His gaze logged on me where I stood on the porch, clutching a thermos, and he slowly lowered his arm, his brows drawing together.

Despite the heat throbbing in my cheeks, I gave him a quick smile. Giving myself a mental kick, I hurried toward him. Cara’s boots were too big for me, and I wasn’t used to wearing lined Wellingtons, so I stumbled over the cut-off branches and twigs that covered the ground. If Maximus hadn’t caught me by the waist, I would have faceplanted right in front of him. My cheek was pressed to his sweaty chest. Heat radiated from his skin, making me feel even hotter, and the scent of his manly sweat only increased the tingling in my body.

He helped me straighten, then scanned me from head to toe. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“No,” I said, mortified. Maximus looked like a beastly man fantasy, and I stumbled along like a klutz. His eyes registered the thermos on the ground. I’d dropped it.

He picked it up with an ironic twitch to his lips. “Good thing you didn’t carry a cup.”

“That’s really a good thing because there’s boiling bone broth inside that thermos. I could have burned you. Instead of being a good wife by taking care of my husband, I would have scalded you.”

“I don’t expect you to serve me food and drinks to be a good wife. I’m glad to have you as my wife, even if you throw burning liquid at me.”

I flushed, my lips parting in surprise. “Have I given you much reason to be glad? Things have been hard.”

“They were hard, yes,” he murmured. His amber eyes were distant, thoughtful. I loved the sound of his deep voice. It always reverberated in the depth of my belly, today in particular. “My father always says good things take work. I’m willing to put the work in.”

I nodded because I didn’t know what to say. I’d focused on having a baby, on creating my family by bringing new life into this world, but Maximus and I were husband and wife. We were the root of that family. We needed to build a foundation for our kids. I needed to make more of an effort if that was ever supposed to happen.

Maximus grabbed a towel from a fallen tree stump. He brought it to my face and wiped my cheek. “There’s some dirt on your face. You should keep your distance from me. I reek and will get you dirty.”

I scanned his body, covered by a fine sheen of dirt that clung to his sweaty skin. I wanted to be with Maximus, and not for any other reason than to feel his touch.

“What’s wrong? I can see that something’s bothering you.”

I was bothered by the sight of him so manly and unhinged. It did things to my body that I didn’t understand.

I slowly shook my head, tearing my eyes away from him and sinking my teeth into my lower lip.

Maximus stepped closer and lightly touched my shoulder. He was still very careful when he touched me despite our last sexual encounters. “Are you worried that it didn’t work again? There’s still the option to go to a clinic if that makes it easier for you.”

Did he think I was worried about having to sleep with him again? I let out an embarrassed smile. “I’m a bit worried, but not for the reason you might think.”

His confused expression made it clear he didn’t understand what I meant.

“I’m not worried about having to sleep with you again if I’m not pregnant this time because I wouldn’t mind doing it even if it’s not about making a baby.” The words rushed out of my mouth so fast I wasn’t sure he understood anything. Yet after a moment of utter confusion, realization set in, and the look on his face changed to desire and something primal that made my core clench.

“You want to…” He was obviously still not convinced I really meant it.

“Actually…phew.” I blew out a breath, embarrassed to say what I felt. “Watching you like this”—I motioned at his half-naked state and the axe behind him—“has made me feel quite…umm.” I gave a nervous giggle, my face bursting with heat.

Maximus understood at once, and the look in his eyes… wow. He held out his hand, and when I took it, he tugged me along deeper into the woods until his parents’ house was no longer visible. He pressed me against a massive tree and cupped my cheek.

“Let me eat you here,” he rasped.

My eyes widened. “Someone could walk up on us.”

“Bacon,” he called, and his dog came running. “Sit and guard.”

The dog sank to the ground and actually began to scan the surroundings.

“He’ll bark if someone approaches the area.”

“Even your parents and your brother? He knows them.”

“He’ll bark,” Maximus assured me in a low voice as he leaned closer, his fingers playing with a few strands of my hair.

I swallowed nervously. From having sex only for reproduction purposes to having Maximus eat me out in the woods was a huge step. One my body was definitely ready for, but my mind still revolted.

“Let me feel the proof of what you said,” Maximus murmured.

“Okay.” Instead of touching me right away, he bent down and kissed me, a slow, sensual kiss that only increased the pressure between my legs. Eventually, he reached under my skirt and slowly slid his huge hand into my tights and panties. The latter clung to me, and he had to tug them away from my heated flesh. When his middle finger wedged between my pussy lips, both he and I let out moans. He brushed my opening, which was sopping wet, and pushed his finger into me up until the first knuckle just to draw out even more of my arousal.

I watched the lust and focus on his face through half-lidded eyes, drawing in a deep breath so his manly scent flooded my nose.

“Fuck, Sara. Knowing you’re wet for me like this makes me the happiest man in the world,” he growled as he stroked me. His amber eyes seemed to burn with lust. He leaned closer once more, his lips against mine as he rumbled, “Let me taste you. Just one fucking taste. Nobody will catch us.”

“Okay,” I said, then held my breath because I never thought I’d have outdoor sex. Maximus kneeled down on the muddy ground and reached under my skirt with both hands, grabbing my tights and pulling them down.

He left my panties in place. Then he disappeared under my skirt. Seeing the outline of his broad shoulders and head poke against the fabric almost made me giggle, but a deep moan took the place of that sound when Maximus tugged the crotch of my panties aside and brushed his nose over my pussy lips. He inhaled deeply, then let his tongue follow the same path as his nose had. “You taste fucking sweet.” His calloused hands pushed my legs farther apart before they gently kneaded my inner thighs. His breathing was hot against my sensitive spot, but he didn’t touch me there. I waited with bated breath, close to despair. His fingers trailed higher, and then his thumbs gently parted my folds. I shivered in anticipation.

“I know I only asked for one taste, but if you don’t mind, I’ll finish my meal,” he growled.

“I don’t,” I pressed out shakily. He leaned forward and slowly dragged his tongue from my opening up to my clit. I watched the motion of his head beneath my skirt, wanting to see him. I gripped the fabric and rolled it up until his muscled shoulders and head came into view. His eyes moved up, but he kept licking me with slow strokes while his thumbs lightly caressed my folds.

“You can’t breathe properly beneath all the fabric.”

The knowing smile that curled his lips made it clear he knew that wasn’t why I’d lifted my skirt.

Luckily, he spared me further embarrassment by breaking our eye contact. His gaze focused on my pussy once more. His mouth cupped my folds and began to suck them. I pressed my hands flat against the tree, my teeth sinking into my lower lip. My body was on fire, and an orgasm was quickly approaching, but I was trying to hold off. I wanted to bask in the sensations for longer. Nothing was better than the buildup to the very first orgasm. That was a lesson I’d learned in our few sexual encounters. My legs began to tremble, but I fought the sensations. Maximus pulled back, and the feeling subsided, but barely. “Want to slow things down?” he growled.

I nodded, taking a deep breath. He brushed two fingers over my pussy, then pushed them into me slowly. I moaned, clenching around him as he pleasured me with circling motions. He watched his fingers inside me with utter concentration and lust. Soon the pleasure was mounting again, and I was sure even just him breathing against my clit would make me explode. He slowed down, his gaze on my face. “You’re so damn wet, Sara. My fingers are coated in your juice. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than your lustful face.”

I bit my lip, embarrassed, but a hard thrust of his fingers drove the shyness right out of me as I threw my head back, my core clenching again. His fingers moved faster and faster, slapping against me. I began to shake, and when Maximus leaned forward and cupped my clit with his lips, I lost all semblance of control and shook under the violent waves of my orgasm.

Maximus watched me, his mouth on me, driving me even higher until I could hardly take it anymore. He jerked away, his chin and mouth shiny, and smiled up at me with devilish pride.

He stood and kissed me on the way up, leaving my taste on my lips. After a brief mental pep talk, I grabbed his jeans button, then peered up at him for permission.

He laughed sardonically. “You don’t have to ask. Trust me. Whatever you have in mind, I want it too.”

I laughed. “Really? Maybe my mind is a strange place. I’ve read many of Isa’s books.”

“I’m one hundred percent sure, Sara.”

I smiled as I popped open the button, then pulled his fly down. I’d seen Maximus naked before, but this felt different because I’d never touched him. Today, I wanted to feel him, to give him pleasure. I had absolutely no clue what I was going to do, but I hoped my lust would lead me in the right direction. I tugged down Maximus’s jeans and boxers until his cock sprang free. It was already rock hard without a single touch from me. My eyebrows rose.

“Licking you turns me on like crazy, Sara.”

I curled my fingers around his erection, mesmerized by the heat he radiated. His shaft felt silky and smooth. I mapped every inch of him with my fingertips, exploring the vein that ran up from his base to the head, then traced his head slowly. Maximus’s breathing deepened, his chest heaving. I locked gazes with him; my head tilted up while his was bent down. I loved how much taller he was than me, how solid and strong he felt. I’d even grown to appreciate the tattoos that adorned so much of his body. Maximus wasn’t a pretty man, not like those posh boy-men I saw in college. He was a rough diamond—manly attractiveness with hard edges.

I licked my lips. Maximus’s eyes slid down to my mouth, and he let out a low growl before he cupped my neck and claimed my lips for a kiss. My fingers around his cock tightened at the possessiveness the kiss exuded. I began to stroke him slowly as our kiss intensified, allowing myself to be guided by Maximus’s ragged breathing and the way his kisses grew in wildness when I touched the right spot. I loved it. I loved seeing Maximus enjoy himself. “What do you like?” I whispered between kisses.

“Rub me harder and touch my balls. But you can’t do anything wrong. Whatever feels right to you is good.” But his eyes slanted to my lips once more, and I wondered if perhaps that’s what he wanted. I was definitely curious. I paused, then began to sink to my knees. Maximus gripped my arms. “You sure?”

“No, but I want to try,” I said honestly because I had a feeling Maximus wouldn’t be mad if I told the truth.

He nodded. “Let me grab my shirt.”

I was confused. Would he put on a shirt? I was really not happy with that concept. Maximus laughed when he saw my face. I flushed but held his gaze.

He tossed the shirt on the ground in front of his feet. “I don’t want you to kneel in the dirt.”

I bit my lip, amused. “I don’t mind getting dirty.”

“There are other ways to get you dirty,” he growled, and the meaning I took from his words made my head burn. I got down to my knees, my hand wrapping around his base. His head was big, just like the rest of him. I darted my tongue out and swirled it around his head, smacking my lips together at the light saltiness I encountered. I cupped my lips around him and began to suck lightly.

Maximus grabbed my head, his fingers tangling in my hair. His gaze was on me as I experimented sucking and licking him. Eventually, I took more of him into my mouth, inch by inch until I gagged. He was too long to get his entire cock into my mouth. He felt heavy on my tongue, but it felt strangely good.

“Fuck, this feels good,” he rumbled, and I could feel the vibrations on my tongue. I hummed in reply, which made his fingers tighten in my hair.

“As good as this feels, and it feels fucking good, I really want to be inside your pussy,” Maximus rasped, tugging at my hair until I met his gaze, his tip still in my mouth. I let it glide out and gave a small nod, feeling my own core tighten at the thought of being with Maximus like that. Our sex had been incredible, and I had a feeling it would only get better.

Maximus pulled me to my feet, then gripped me by the hips and lifted me off the ground. He carried me over to a tree stump and put me down on it. Now our height difference was minimal. Maximus stepped very close and lifted one of my legs, curling it over his hips to open me up. He reached down and grabbed his cock, rubbing the tip up and down between my folds, gathering my juices. I was still very wet, so his tip was quickly coated. I moaned every time Maximus dragged his tip over my clit, sending spikes of pleasure through my body. Finally, he lined himself up, his tip parting me slowly as he increased the pressure. My walls gave in for him, allowing him entrance. He filled me up completely, answering the deep need of my body, and it felt so good. He stilled when he was all the way in, and I shuddered at the intense sensations: fullness, stretching, a low hum of intense pleasure, and the hunger for more.

Maximus’s grip on my thigh tightened as he moved back, only to push back in. I held him as he thrust into me. Nothing mattered but us, our joined bodies. Our surroundings faded to the background. I was caught up in the pleasure, the feel of Maximus filling me, of his fingers kneading my thigh, of his lips on mine.

His thrusts became harder, faster, less controlled, and I could barely stay upright, so wrapped up in the pleasure mounting high. I dug my nails into Maximus’s shoulder as my orgasm surged through me. Maximus’s body tensed, and his release followed mine with such force that I cried out in pleasure, forgetting about being caught. Maximus’s lips found mine, swallowing my moans. We shuddered, and slowly, Maximus sank down with me in his arms. He pulled me into his lap as he sat on the ground, cupping my neck and bringing our foreheads together. We stayed like that, breathing and relishing each other’s closeness. This was more than enjoying ourselves and finding pleasure in each other. I felt like we were slowly ripping down the barriers the past had built around and between us.

Sara and I were panting. The cold crept through my clothes, banishing some of the unbearable heat lighting up my body. I was still reeling from the high of having sex with Sara. Not to make a baby but just because she wanted to, because she wanted to feel pleasure.

I didn’t want to read too much into it, but I couldn’t help but hope this was the fucking turning point in our marriage, and we would finally overcome the past.

I buried my nose in her hair. It always smelled sweet. But now I could also smell the truth of what we’d done. I could smell myself on her. “You smell like sex,” I rumbled, feeling accomplished and possessive.

Sara leaned back with a look of worry. “We’re supposed to have dinner with your parents! We can’t sit at a table with them smelling like…like sex!”

Her concern was cute. I chuckled. “Trust me, they won’t sniff us. The dogs might, though, but they won’t mind.”

“Maximus!” Sara’s eyes grew wide with indignation. “I can’t have dinner with your parents smelling like sex!”

“We could take a shower.”

She bit her lip. “I’ve never taken a shower at your parents’ before. They’ll know something is up.”

I started laughing. “They won’t care. They’ll be happy for us.”

Sara shook her head again. “There has to be another option to get rid of the smell.”

“We could bathe in the stream. It’s a ten-minute walk from here. But it’s freezing.”

Sara got to her feet. “All right. Let’s do that.”

As kids, my brother and I often bathed in the small stream. I rose to my feet and took Sara’s hand. After we’d gathered the rest of our stuff, I led her to the river. We passed the old oak tree on our way, and my fingers tightened around Sara’s hand as we did. I’d never not remember our past when we came by this place, but today, the vise around my heart wasn’t quite as crushing as usual. The stream was rushing by. It had been raining a lot in the past few days, so it was a bit higher than usual.

“Let me go first to make sure it’s not too slippery or too wild.” I got out of my clothes and put them down on a fallen tree. The moment my feet touched the cold, leaf-covered ground, goose bumps erupted all over my body. Sara pulled down her skirt and dragged her sweater over her head. When she removed her bra, the last piece of her clothing, and stood before me completely naked, my breath lodged in my throat. I’d never seen her naked like this. She looked like a goddess amid the forest scenery, a natural beauty. I was in awe that I could call her my wife.

When Sara noticed my gaze, uncertainty crossed her face.

“You look like a goddess. Too beautiful for words.”

She opened her mouth as if to protest, but then she smiled slightly. “Thank you.” Her eyes took me in, and the blush increased. “You look very impressive.”

I chuckled, then turned and climbed down the small slope into the stream bed. I hissed when the icy water engulfed my feet. My skin immediately began to prickle. It was strange how utter cold could burn you almost as much as fire.

“It’s freezing,” I warned when Sara approached me. I held out my hand, and she took it so I could help her down the slope.

A little screech escaped her lips when she entered the stream. She began jumping from one foot to the other, breathing rapidly. “This is worse than I thought.”

“There’s still the shower option.”

“No. It’s okay. I can do this.”

I pointed toward a pond-like area where the stream water briefly split into two smaller streams, and one part was slowed down by rocks, a tree trunk and a sharp turn. “It’s deeper over there, but the current isn’t bad.”

With her hand in mine, I led her toward this part. “You should get it done quickly if you don’t want to get hypothermia.” It would take far longer for my muscled and much bigger body to suffer the same way as hers.

With my help, Sara entered the pond until she was up to her hips in the water.

“Can you help me?”

I poured water that I gathered with my hands over her back and chest, and Sara rubbed her skin with her palms. I wasn’t sure if it would remove every trace of our sex smell, but the sight of her puckered nipples and her gorgeous naked body was worth it.

We quickly returned to our clothes after I’d dunked myself in the water for a moment. Of course, we hadn’t considered that we didn’t have a towel. Sex with Sara had put my brain on pause.

I would have offered her the shirt I’d worn beneath the lumberjack jacket, but that was covered in dirt because she’d knelt on it. Just remembering the scene almost gave me another boner. I handed her my jacket instead. “It’s a bit dusty but will do the job if you use the inside.”

Sara hesitated. “What are you going to wear?”

“A dirty shirt and a wet jacket,” I said with a wink.

She rubbed herself dry, then got dressed while I tried to dry myself with the side of the shirt that wasn’t dirty. Once dressed, she and I returned to the house, followed by Bacon.

“I was looking for you,” Dad said as a way of greeting when we stepped into the wonderfully warm house. It smelled of roasted chicken and rosemary potatoes. His eyes slid over my dirty and wet shirt, then down to the mud stains on my knees. His expression didn’t change, but I knew he had his suspicions. “But I couldn’t find you. Considered sending the dogs out. Your mother stopped me.”

Mom sent Dad a death glare. “Ryan.”

Sara flushed a bright red.

Dad only shrugged.

I didn’t comment, and neither did Sara.

Mom stepped up to me briefly when Sara prepared a tea for herself. “It’s so good to see that smile back on your face.”

We decided spontaneously to spend the night at my parents’. I didn’t have a job tonight, so we’d have enough time to return home to the city in the morning.

We shared the queen-sized bed in my old room. With less room than at home, our arms brushed as we settled under the covers. I decided to risk it and put my arm around Sara.

She peered up at me, then cuddled up to me with a hesitant smile. It felt good to feel her this close. After months, hell, more than a year, of imagining this exact moment, it was finally here, and it felt perfect. We fell asleep like that.

A scream ripped me from my sleep. I turned on the light, and Sara’s eyes shot open at once. She sat up, away from my embrace, and blew out a breath. She closed her eyes and shook her head as if that could banish the last traces of her nightmare.

I sat up too, my heart pounding in my chest. I’d hoped the nightmares had stopped. I’d been stupid enough to think that our enjoyable sex and budding connection would magically heal old wounds. I wasn’t even sure why I was surprised. My nightmares hadn’t stopped yet either, and I was inarguably more hardened than Sara.

Sara looked at me, but she didn’t return to my arms. The Maximus in her nightmare was probably the reason for it.

“The nightmares have become less frequent, but sometimes they still occur,” she explained quietly. “Like yours.”

I nodded. Weren’t nightmares a way for your subconscious to work through the experiences of the day? Had today triggered her? What if this threw us back?

I wasn’t sure why her nightmare fucked with my brain this much, but I simply didn’t want to lose today’s connection.

The lightness of the previous day was gone when we returned home the next day, so it was a good thing that Amo gave me a call that they’d found a Bratva whorehouse where a guy who’d been in on the planning of the kidnapping was working as a pimp.

If Sara was sad that I wouldn’t join her at her family’s today, she didn’t show it. Maybe she was glad to have some room after last night’s nightmare.

“Be careful,” she said when I dropped her off at her parents’ house. I was surprised by her words.

Of course, it was difficult to actually follow the words. I was too eager to dish out pain and destruction to tread a safe path, so I managed to get two cuts on my back and my upper arm. I wrapped them with some gauze, not in the mood to go to the doc. Not to mention that I’d promised to pick Sara up at eight.

I managed to make it by five past eight. Flavio accompanied Sara to the truck. When he opened the passenger door for her, he said, “You’re late.” His eyes narrowed when he saw the blood all over my clothes. My arm and back wound definitely needed stitches. “Are you sure Sara should go home with you?”

Sara poked her head in, and her eyes widened. “What happened?” She climbed into the seat and regarded me with concern.

“The guy I killed wasn’t too fond of dying.”

“Maybe you should stay here tonight. Maximus isn’t in top form.”

“I can protect her, don’t worry,” I growled. “She’s my wife, my responsibility.”

Flavio turned to his sister. “Sara?”

“I won’t leave my husband alone when he’s injured,” Sara said firmly as she buckled up. She pushed him back and closed the door. I pulled away from the curb immediately. Flavio and I had good and bad days. I got it. I would have resented me too if I were him, but he needed to respect certain boundaries. Sara was my wife and belonged at my side.

When we arrived at our place, Sara went to the bathroom and returned with our first-aid kit.

“Remove your shirt and sit.” She motioned to the kitchen chair. With a grunt in pain, I dragged my shirt over my head and sank down. Sara inspected the cut below my left shoulder and on my left bicep. “Both need stitches. Why didn’t you go to the doc?”

“I promised to pick you up.”

She gave me a stern look. “Your health is the top priority.”

“No,” I muttered. “You are and will always be my top priority, Sara.”

She swallowed and cleared her throat before she focused on my back. “I’ve done this once before, but I can’t say I’m good at this.”

“It’s fine. They don’t have to be pretty. Just close them up.”

She caressed the burn scars on my back. The tattoo was close to being done now, so the scars were only visible when you were close to me. She brushed her pointer finger over the inked “Nemesis” on my hand. “So many scars in the name of revenge. Is revenge ever served?”

“Hard to say. Revenge often leads to more revenge. It’s a vicious cycle.”

“Maybe you need to be the one to break it.”

“No, honey. I’m not going to be the bigger man in this case. I’m not the ‘turn the other cheek’ kind of guy. I’m going to keep hunting Bratva assholes until no one is left for revenge.”

Sara looked at me strangely. “You called me honey.”

“That’s what bothered you from my words?” I asked, amused.

“I didn’t say it bothered me.” She took a needle and thread from the first-aid kit, not elaborating what she meant. We both fell silent as she stitched me up. I could tell she was trying to be careful, but she definitely didn’t have much practice doing this.

Afterward, I took a shower, and when I entered the bedroom, Sara had already fallen asleep. The nightmare last night had kept her from sleeping sound. That night, we stayed on our respective sides. No cuddling, much less more entertaining activities.

In the next few days, Sara and I returned to our usual routine of dinner and movies, falling asleep beside each other, and a brief talk during coffee in the morning. My worry that the nightmare had put a wedge between us again seemed to become reality.

I turned my entire focus on work, especially as we had our monthly Enforcer meeting where Luca, Matteo, Amo, and Valerio joined us too. Luca’s daughter Marcella had often been present as well, but since she’d recently given birth, and even in the weeks prior, she’d pulled back.

My father, Primo, Maddox, and I were the main Enforcers in New York. But for these monthly meetings, the men for the smaller jobs and the countryside joined us too.

When I saw Luca’s face upon entering the new meeting room in the basement of Luca’s club Sphere, I knew trouble was on the horizon.

The moment we’d all gathered around the table, Luca stood and began pacing. “The Pakhan has been very restrained with his reaction to our revenge.”

“Because he’s more concerned about finding a good anchor place for his yacht,” Matteo said as he leaned back in his chair.

“He’s not in control. His men can do what they want, and it might become a problem because we got intel that Jabba’s father, who lives in Saint Petersburg, is on his way here to avenge his sons.” Luca looked at me. “You killed three of them.”

I nodded. I remembered very well. “And a few cousins. I’ll kill him too.”

“That’s the plan,” Luca said. You could always count on Luca when revenge was concerned. His massacre of the bikers would always be legendary.

“We have to up protection until we have him. He poses a risk, not just for you or Romero, but also for our women.”

“We’ll make sure they’re safe until he’s dead and until a new Pakhan brings a shift to the local Bratva.”

“What are the rumors? Who’s a possible successor?” Dad asked.

Luca and Matteo exchanged a look. “According to Nino Falcone, it could be Artur Mikhailov, the second son of the current Pakhan in Chicago.”

I raised my eyebrows. “So he needs a territory for his second born once his firstborn takes over as Pakhan in Chicago?”

“Looks like it. It’s rumors, but considering that Adamo Falcone is married to the Pakhan’s daughter, I would bet my money on it.”

“That’s something that might make our life easier in the future,” Matteo said. “But for now, protecting the vulnerable is at the top of our list.”

“Too many of our women have suffered for our sins,” Amo said bitterly.

I grimaced. That was the truth—a bitter pill to swallow.

Sounds of distress, labored breathing, and whimpers woke me from my sleep. Sheets rustled as Sara twisted and turned, caught up in another nightmare.

I reached for her, then hesitated, wondering if the reality of having me here would be better than her nightmare. I shoved that thought aside. Sara and I had come a long way from the start of our marriage. I wouldn’t allow nightmares to ruin everything.

I touched her arm, but she was too caught up in the throes of her dream. “Sara,” I implored, gently shaking her. “Sara, honey, wake up.”

I turned the lights on and shook her a little harder until her eyes finally popped open, and she looked at me. At first, she was disoriented and far away, but then she slowly saw me. She released a shaky breath and relaxed.

“Another nightmare,” I told her as if she didn’t know.

She nodded. “Yeah. A bad one.”

I’d never asked her for details. I could imagine what those nightmares entailed.

She scooted over to me, surprising me.

“Do you want me to wrap my arm around you?”

“Yes.”

I pulled her against me and drew in a deep breath, realizing I’d missed her closeness. How could I miss something that I’ve only experienced for such a short time? “The worst nightmares are always…”

I didn’t want to know, but I would never stop her from sharing what bothered her. “When it’s Jabba on top of me. He’s like a phantom of my past that I can’t shake off.”

I peered down at her crown of hair. “He’s dead.”

“I know. But my brain doesn’t care. In here”—she tapped her temple—“he’s still very much alive.” She peered up. “You aren’t the reason for my nightmares, just so you know, okay? It’s always Jabba taking center stage.”

I cleared my throat and gave a terse nod. “I wish I could kill him in your dreams as well. I wish you weren’t alone in this.”

She smiled faintly. “I’m not alone. Sleeping beside you has made things so much easier.”

I kissed her temple. These words meant the world to me.

A couple of days later, I woke to the sound of soft footsteps. I sat up and reached for my gun but plopped back onto the cushion upon seeing Sara in the glow of her cell phone.

Confusion filled me. Why was she up? Did she have another nightmare? I hadn’t heard her having a bad dream.

“What’s wrong?” I rumbled.

“That’s what I wanted to ask. You’ve been tossing and turning all night. I went to the kitchen for a cup of tea because I couldn’t sleep and wasn’t sure if I should wake you.”

“Just a lot on my mind, nothing of importance,” I lied. I didn’t want Sara to worry unnecessarily, but the news of Jabba’s father being on a quest for revenge really got to me. I had to protect Sara no matter the cost.

She narrowed her eyes. “If it’s not important, then why does it disturb your sleep?”

That was the problem with us being closer now. It was harder to keep certain things from her. But this was too triggering for her. “I really can’t talk about it.”

She nodded. “Okay. I understand.”

She came closer and tugged a strand of her hair behind her ear. Why didn’t she just get back into bed?

“Is anything the matter?” I asked, my voice still rough and scratchy. “Are you mad because I can’t share what’s going on?”

She gave a quick shake of her head, her eyes taking in my exposed upper body. She sank down on the edge of the mattress.

“I had a dream,” she admitted.

Fuck. Another nightmare. When would they stop?

“I’m sorry.” I turned on the lamp on my nightstand. Maybe it would help keep the bad memories away.

She tilted her head. “No. I mean…” She took a deep breath. “I was wondering…could we?”

I frowned, not following her thoughts. “Could we what?”

She looked up and blew out a breath. “Have sex.”

“Are you ovulating again?’” I wasn’t an expert on the whole female cycle thing, though I was on the way to becoming one, thanks to Sara.

“No, I just…” She smiled in embarrassment. “I just want to. Like in the woods. I just felt really close to you that day.”

My heart sped up at her admittance. I felt elated. “You really want to have sex without the chance of making a baby again?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood with a joke, but Sara obviously didn’t catch the joking part.

“I mean, if you don’t want that, we don’t have to.”

“Fuck! There’s nothing I want more. The last time was amazing, and like you, I felt closer to you than ever before. I hate having sex for reproduction.”

“Because you don’t want a kid?”

“Because I want you to be with me without second thoughts.”

Her sweet smile melted my stone-cold heart. Shit. “No second thoughts this time.”

I grinned and relaxed further into my pillows.

“I’m not awake yet.”

I could see the embarrassment and guilt on Sara’s face. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward me with a sly smile. “How about you sit on my face so I can relax and wake up with the taste of your pussy in my mouth?”

Sara’s lips parted in surprise, her cheeks turning red. I tugged at her hand, encouraging her. She finally climbed on the bed. I grasped her hips and guided her to hover over my face. I smiled at the sight of her pretty pink pussy lips right above my mouth. I drew in a deep breath and grinned. Her aroma told me she’d been thinking about this for a while before she’d come over. I hummed my approval and relaxed back into the cushions, then extended my tongue invitingly. Sara stared down at me with a look of confused shock. I chuckled. “Like I said, I’m still not awake yet. I fear you need to use my tongue and mouth as you see fit until I’m ready to eat and fuck you properly.”

She lowered her hips slowly until her pussy brushed my tongue. She hesitantly rocked her hips, rubbing herself against my tongue. Soon she found a rhythm that allowed the tip of my tongue to slide back and forth over her little clit as she shifted her hips. I smirked, loving the sight of her lust and need.

She pursed her lips and stopped moving. The hint of an annoyed smile flitted over her face. “Are you awake yet?”

I looked past her to the tent in my boxers. “He is.” A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have dreamed of making a joke like that in front of Sara, but suddenly, I could feel a new lightness between us, one I was desperate to preserve.

Sara followed my gaze and let out a laugh. I grabbed her waist and slid her down my body until she sat against my cock. When I pulled down my boxers, my erection sprang free and bounced against Sara’s ass cheek. “Ready for a ride?”

Sara nodded, but I could see the nerves on her face. I helped her mount me properly until the tip of my cock slipped into her heated pussy. I groaned in approval. Sara lowered herself slowly and began moving in a gentle, slow rhythm.

She touched my chest as she rolled her hips.

Her breathing was deep like mine, and the sensations were fucking good, but I knew I could make them fucking amazing. “Ready for more?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation, and the need in her voice was all the encouragement I needed. I lifted her off me and flipped her so she was kneeling. I slowly eased back into her, then wrapped an arm around her to pull her up against me. With my front against her back, I fucked her. I turned her head around and claimed her mouth for a kiss.

The intensity of our orgasms let us both flop down on the mattress in exhaustion, and I pulled her into my arms, loving that I could do this now, that the distance from the past was no more. Sara peered up at me with a warm smile and pressed her cheek against my chest. “The sound of your heartbeat always makes me drowsy,” she mumbled, sounding as if she was already half asleep.

“Sleep tight,” I murmured.

I could feel my own body slowly succumbing to exhaustion, and soon, we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

I blew out a breath before I finally gathered the courage to look at the pregnancy test. We’d been trying for six months, and even though I knew statistically we were still doing fine, I was growing impatient. I didn’t want to wait longer. I wanted to heal the ache I felt after losing my last pregnancy, and I knew only a new pregnancy would be able to do that. My eyes widened in disbelief when the result showed up. Tears shot into my eyes, and I began to laugh.

I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a deep sob. Pregnant. I was really pregnant. Maximus and I had been having sex frequently and not just when my fertile days rolled around. That part of our relationship had been easier to build up than I’d thought. Becoming a couple and growing closer on an emotional level was more work, especially when the past still held us back. Guilt was our shadow.

With the test clutched in my hand, I picked up my phone and called Mom. She answered after two rings.

“I’m pregnant,” I rushed out before she could say anything.

“Oh, Sara! I’m so happy for you! How did Maximus react?”

I froze, guilt creeping up on me. “I haven’t told him yet. I just took the test.”

Mom paused. “You called me first?” she asked gently.

“I should have told him first, right?”

“Well, he’s probably busy at work. You needed to share your excitement. That’s understandable.”

“Yes,” I agreed. But if I was being honest, I hadn’t even considered calling Maximus. I grimaced. I had been so excited and just wanted to talk to someone who’d share my excitement. I wasn’t sure if Maximus was that person. Despite trying to get me pregnant for a while, we’d never really talked about this. I wasn’t even sure how many kids he wanted, if he wanted any, or if he only wanted them to make me happy and to redeem himself. I’d been so focused on my own wish for children and my hopes that a new pregnancy would heal the wounds from the last that I hadn’t thought about Maximus.

“I’ll surprise him tonight,” I said. “I hope he’ll be happy.”

“I know he will be. He wants to make you happy. It’s so very obvious.”

I swallowed. “Yeah, but I want him to be happy because it’s something he wants too.”

“Don’t worry, Sara. Don’t let your worries ruin this day for you. You’ve been waiting so long for it. You deserve to be happy.”

“Thanks, Mom. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I hung up, then wondered how I could reveal the pregnancy to Maximus. I simply had to have faith that he too would be excited to build a family. The worst thing would be the wait. I wanted to shout my pregnancy from the rooftops because I was so excited. Then worry filtered through my happiness. What if something happened? Wouldn’t it be better to tell only a few select people until I was safe? But when would I feel safe? At twelve weeks? I had been at almost twelve weeks when I’d lost our last baby. I took a deep breath. Today was for celebrating. I wanted to enjoy this day and surprise Maximus.

When Maximus came home that night, I’d prepared his favorite meal: a cheeseburger with fries.

Considering I loved to cook, finding out about Maximus’s favorite meal had been a damper, but I’d simply made it my task to create the perfect burger with homemade buns, patties, and even hand-cut fries. Cooking for Maximus every evening was my way of showing him how much I cared about him. I really hoped he understood my intentions. He wasn’t really someone who talked about emotions.

Maximus froze in the kitchen doorway when he saw the display of burger items spread out on the table so he could build his own burger. I opened the oven and pulled out a sheet pan with perfectly crisp riffled fries.

“Wow. This smells delicious,” he said. He immediately hurried toward the table, then he paused and turned to me instead. He pressed a kiss to my lips. “The burger almost made me forget my manners.”

I chuckled despite my nervousness. Even though we’d tried for a baby for a while, telling Maximus about my pregnancy made me insanely nervous. There was also still the small nagging voice inside my head, worried that I shouldn’t be excited about this pregnancy yet—what if it ended like my last?

Maximus rubbed my arm. “Are you okay?”

I quickly nodded. Despite the hesitation in his eyes, he went over to the table and sat down. He glanced around the table, looking for the burger buns, the only item missing.

“There’s a bun in my oven,” I said. I cringed inwardly. In my head, it sounded way cuter than it did when I said it out loud.

Maximus frowned at the oven behind me. He rose as if to get the buns himself. “There’s a bun in my oven,” I repeated again, determined to pull through with this idea, even if it was cringy.

He paused, obviously confused. His gaze moved from the oven to my face, then slowly down to where my hand rested on my belly. He straightened at once, eyes wide. “You…?”

“I’m pregnant.” I rubbed my still flat belly.

“Sara,” he murmured, his voice soft and warm. He came around the table and pulled me against him, kissing the top of my head.

We held each other for a long time, and with every passing moment of our closeness, I felt more at ease. Then he pulled back to search my face. Before he could say something, I asked, “Are you happy?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Our marriage didn’t start how it should have been. Sometimes I worry that I’m forcing you to have children.”

He shook his head, his hands coming up to cup my face. “You’re not forcing me to do anything. Before marrying you, having a family hadn’t been at the forefront of my thoughts, but it’s definitely been something I wanted, and you are the perfect woman to build a family with. You are caring and kind and loving.”

I bit my lip, unprepared for his compliments. Maximus wasn’t usually a man of so many words, so hearing him say it really made me emotional.

“Are you happy?” he asked quietly. My concern must have shown through my excitement. “I am. So happy, but I’m also really scared.”

Maximus’s brows drew together, the warrior in him rearing its head, ready to fight whoever scared me, but this was something he couldn’t beat with violence or threats.

“Scared of losing this baby as well,” I admitted. My voice broke even just considering the option.

“You won’t.”

“It’s still early. Only five weeks. So much can happen in the first twelve weeks and even after.”

“Sara,” Maximus implored, pulling my face closer to his as he bent down. Tears pressed against my eyeballs. I didn’t want to cry, not because of something that might not even happen, but my hormones were already intense. “Listen to me. Nothing will happen this time. Enjoy this pregnancy. Don’t let anything ruin it for you.”

I nodded. I wanted to enjoy every moment of it, but how could I when that dark cloud hovered over our heads?

“I hope you don’t still feel like you did anything wrong last time.”

I blew out a breath. I’d worked hard to let go of this idea, and I’d thought I had succeeded, but now that I was pregnant again and responsible for a growing life, all those feelings of guilt returned with a force. “I don’t know. It’s hard not to worry, not to blame myself.”

“It’s not your fault. I’ll repeat it as often as I have to until you feel the same way.”

I smiled, then tilted my head toward the food on the table. “Your meat will be cold by now.”

“Even a cold burger from you is better than anything I’ve ever eaten before.”

“Don’t let your mom find out!”

Maximus shrugged. “Mom knows you’re the better cook, and she adores you. Trust me, she’ll be more than happy to let you take over all the future cooking at family gatherings.”

I pushed him toward the table, touched by his words, especially that Cara really liked me. Now that we were becoming parents, it seemed even more important to be close to Maximus’s family. “Sit down and eat. You’ve had a long day.” I took the buns out of the oven and set them down in front of Maximus too, then heated a few patties in the microwave, even if it ruined the texture in my opinion.

“What about you? You need to eat too.”

I sat beside him and made a burger for myself, minus the beef patty. I hated ground meat and could rarely bring myself to eat it. Instead, I just put the chicken breast I’d cooked for myself on the bun.

Maximus watched me while he wolfed down three burgers as if they were the best thing he’d ever eaten. His love for my food really made me happy.

Even if I wasn’t particularly hungry and even felt a hint of queasiness, I forced myself to eat the entire chicken burger. This baby needed nutrients, so I’d give it to it.

“It’s good to see you eat. Maybe this time you won’t feel as sick,” Maximus said after he’d finished his third burger.

“I really hope that’s the case, but I feel like I’m already starting to be sensitive to certain tastes and smells, or maybe it’s just my overactive imagination.” I let out an embarrassed laugh.

“I’ll be by your side through it all. If you need something, just say the word.”

I bit my lip, touched by his words and also a bit guilty because I knew he hadn’t been part of my last pregnancy. He’d only experienced the sad end.

During the past few months of trying to get Sara pregnant, I wasn’t sure what I’d feel if she finally got a positive test. With the last pregnancy, I’d only felt shock and a huge sense of responsibility.

The latter was present now too, but besides relief, I also felt happiness and excitement. Having a family had become something tangible with Sara by my side. I knew she’d be a wonderful mother, and our home would be filled with love.

I tensed, regarding Sara as she took a sip from her water, lost in thoughts. My feelings for Sara had grown in the last six months. Before that, I had never allowed myself to build a real connection with her since our whole marriage had been too taut with tension.

Sara finally noticed my staring and reached for my hand on the tabletop, giving me a small smile. “Is everything okay?”

I turned my hand around and wrapped my fingers around hers. Seeing her wedding ring still made me happy. “I was just thinking about how far we’ve come.”

Her smile brightened. “We put the work in, and it’s paying off.”

In the beginning it had felt like work. We both had to force ourselves to meet every evening and watch a movie together, to seek each other’s closeness, to share a bed and be intimate, but now all these things came naturally.

I nodded. “I’m proud of us. And really happy.”

“Me too,” she whispered.

“Let’s go into the living room and watch a movie. I’m too wired to go to bed now.”

“Sounds good.” She got up, and I stepped up to her side, gently touching her back to guide her toward the sofa. Because of our past, I’d always felt very protective of Sara, but I could tell this would reach a new dimension now that she was pregnant.

She gave me an amused look. “I’m not incapacitated.”

I chuckled. “I want to do everything right this time. You are my pregnant wife, and I’ll make sure you have every comfort you need.” We sank down on the couch. I didn’t leave any room between us. I wanted Sara close. She was pregnant with our child. I never wanted her out of my sight if possible.

She regarded me curiously, then relaxed against my shoulder. “I didn’t expect you to be this happy. I didn’t dare to hope for it.”

“But I am. I wasn’t sure what I’d feel before, but I’m excited. I can’t wait to show a boy how to carve and split wood, throw an axe, and read animal tracks in the woods.”

“And what if it’s a girl?” Sara asked with raised eyebrows.

I half hoped it wasn’t. Not because I needed an heir or thought girls were less precious, but a girl was someone else to protect, to keep away from the horrors of our world. With a boy, there was no use in even trying. He belonged to the Famiglia the second he was born.

“I’ll protect her until the day I die.”

Sara put her hand on mine, which rested on my leg. I turned my hand around and curled my fingers around hers like I had done before. “You can teach her how to read animal tracks and how to carve. You can even show her how to throw an axe. Just because she’s a girl doesn’t mean she can’t do these things.”

“You don’t like to do them.”

Sara shrugged. “Just because I don’t like them doesn’t mean she won’t.”

“Then I’ll teach her all these things.”

Sara looked pleased, but I could see a hint of melancholy in her eyes. “I don’t care if it’s a girl or a boy. I just want a healthy baby to hold and to love. That’s all I want, all I pray for.”

I cupped her cheek with my free hand, my eyes burning into hers. “You’ll get it.”

I pressed a kiss to her lips, trying to send her some of my utter resolve. The tears in Sara’s eyes made me feel even more protective. Sara deserved everything she wanted and more. I hoped she’d never have to encounter heartache again.

Sara swallowed and motioned at the TV. “Let’s watch something. I know I’m being too emotional.”

I rubbed her arm. “I can handle your emotions and want you to share them with me.”

Sara squeezed my hand.

“When should we tell our families?” I asked after a moment. I hadn’t talked about it with Dad. He and I weren’t the type to discuss these things, but Mom knew that Sara and I were trying to have a baby. She’d be ecstatic to hear the news.

Sara flushed and looked away. “I…”

“You told your mom,” I said. I wasn’t even surprised. Liliana had been by Sara’s side through it all. She was Sara’s rock. I was hoping to be that one day too, but I had no intention to get between their close bond.

Sara cringed and gave me an apologetic smile. “When I found out this morning, I had to call her. I know I should have told you first. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. As long as you let me be part of this pregnancy, I don’t mind if your mom knows things before me.”

Sara put her head down on my shoulder. “Next time, you’ll be the first to know. I promise.”

“You mean with our second child?” I asked.

“I’d like three kids. I always saw me with three.” She peered up at me. “Is that okay? If you want less, I’m sure I’ll be fine too. I don’t want to assume you’ll just want the same things I want. I know marriage is a compromise, and I didn’t do enough of that in the past.”

“I like the idea of a Trevisan trio.”

Sara giggled, giving me a doubtful look. “Really?”

“Really. Maybe even more.”

Sara bit her lip.

I leaned forward and kissed her, then moved back and pulled her against me again. “I’d like to tell my parents in person next time we visit. I should have the day off on Friday, so maybe we can drive over to them.”

Sara sat up but her hand remained in mine. “Mom can keep secrets, so we can tell the rest of my family during dinner on Sunday. You won’t have to work then either, right?”

“If nothing unexpected comes up, I won’t have to work.” Things with the Russians had calmed down considerably. I feared it was the calm before the storm, but it meant I had fewer clients and only our usual debtors.

We headed to bed shortly after without ever watching anything, and Sara undressed in the bathroom while I brushed my teeth. I loved these small, mundane moments that had changed our marriage drastically. That Sara changed in front of me and that we shared more of our daily routine with each other just made this marriage feel more real. I would have never thought I was the type to enjoy married life—the routine and mundanity of it—but I loved returning home to Sara in the evening.

When Sara stood in front of the mirror only in her panties, she turned and regarded her belly, which was still flat of course. She drew in a deep breath, extending her belly until it looked like she was further along. “I can’t wait to look like this.” She gave me an embarrassed smile. I stepped up to her, the toothbrush still in my mouth, and put my palm over her belly. My hands were big, bear paws how my mom always said, and covered all of her belly. She put her much smaller hand over mine and we briefly stood like that. It made me feel strange, an unfamiliar ache in my chest. I stepped back and spit out my toothpaste, trying to determine what I was feeling.

Sara put her nightgown on and slipped under the covers. She had her face tilted up and her eyes closed but opened them when I came in and stretched out beside her. She turned around to face me and smiled. I just smiled back. Then I turned off the lights. Today was a good day.

When I told my mom that Sara and I would be coming over on Friday, she got suspicious. I wasn’t sure how she could tell something was up. Her instincts were always spot-on. The moment Sara and I entered the house, where Mom and Dad were sitting in the kitchen with the dogs, Mom grinned. One look at my face and she simply seemed to know.

Dad glanced between her and us. He obviously wasn’t sure what was up.

Mom could barely contain her excitement when she came over to us. She hugged Sara tightly before either of us said anything. Sara gave me a questioning look. “Did you…?”

“Not a word,” I said.

Mom touched my face and beamed at Sara, who couldn’t help but laugh. She stretched out her arms. “I’m pregnant!” Mom hugged her again.

“I knew it! I just knew it!”

Dad pushed to his feet and stalked over to me. He patted my shoulder, then pulled me in for a rare hug. “Congrats, Max.”

Mom was already doting on Sara. Dad told her congrats too and touched her shoulder with a proud smile.

“Primo’s at work. One of us has to,” Dad said.

“I know, Dad.” With all three of us being Enforcers, it was rare that all of us could take off. I’d tell Primo the next time I saw him, but I doubted he’d be as emotionally invested as my parents.

Dad motioned to the front door. “Help me with one of the kennels. Houdini managed to dig another hole. We got it before he could run off again.”

I followed Dad outside. Houdini had managed to escape his kennel twice so far. The first time, he’d killed a deer; the second time, Dad got him before he could cause more damage. He was unpredictable and needed to be in a kennel.

Dad carried a sack with instant concrete and a bucket with water and two shovels.

“When your mom got pregnant with you, I was excited and scared. Being a father is the most difficult and challenging job. But I was determined not to fuck up.”

“You didn’t,” I said as I stirred the cement into the water. “You were a good dad; you are.”

Dad lifted the huge stone he’d put over the wooden boards over the opening in the ground right at the fence. Houdini was on a chain that prevented him from reaching the fence. Dad was the only one who could go in. Houdini was a massive black-and-white American bulldog trained to kill and fight. He was a lost cause, but Dad would never give him up. We poured the concrete into the hole.

“You’ll be a good father too,” Dad said suddenly.

I hoped that was true. I’d do everything I could to be like Dad. Houdini watched us curiously as we filled his hole and waited for the concrete to set.

“He’ll dig a new hole, Dad. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Maybe. But I hate to have him on a chain. He’s already in prison. I don’t want to make it worse.”

“He’s a danger to others.”

“So are we, but we walk around free.”

I rolled my eyes. “I won’t chew anyone’s face off unless they are Bratva or don’t pay their debts, and even then, most of them get a less harsh punishment.”

Dad ignored me and tested the concrete with a stick. It was still too soft of course.

“You know as well as I do that he might be triggered by screaming children in the future.”

Dad gave me a strange smile. “Already thinking like a dad. I’m proud of you, son.”

I frowned, realizing he had a point.

“He won’t be a risk for your child. Until then, I want him to enjoy his life a bit.”

Even if it wasn’t apparent at first glance, Dad could be a real softy.

Mom appeared on the porch. “Come in. Let’s have some cake to celebrate!”

For some reason, I was tense when we stepped into the Cancio home. Sara and I had been over for dinner before, and I’d always been welcomed warmly, except for Flavio, but there had always been a hint of tension in the air and an insurmountable distance—that I hadn’t ever tried to bridge. I’d accepted it because of the past.

Today, I wondered how the news of Sara and me becoming parents would change things. Only Liliana knew about the pregnancy, and only she’d even known we were trying to have kids.

I wasn’t sure how Flavio and Romero would take the news.

Alea and Inessa came running to greet us. They hugged Sara tightly and gave me big smiles. I greeted Romero with a handshake and Flavio with a nod. He was the one who avoided me, and I had accepted his decision. Fuck, I knew how it was to hold a grudge forever, so I definitely wouldn’t judge him.

Liliana beamed when she came toward us after setting down a plate with homemade antipasti on the dining table. She kissed Sara’s cheek and hugged her tightly before she turned to me and pulled me into a hug as well.

Romero watched everything with curiosity. Liliana had obviously kept our secret.

Flavio frowned at us. Liliana had always tried to make me feel welcome, but today, I could really feel her warmth, which didn’t go unnoticed by Flavio and Romero either.

Sara looked up at me and raised her eyebrows. I gave a nod. She surprised me by taking my hand as she faced her family. That definitely didn’t go unnoticed either. While Sara and I had held hands or shared a quick peck with my parents around, we’d always kept our distance when at the Cancio home.

“We have good news,” Sara said, her voice already clogging up with emotions. She glanced up at me, and I gave a nod, then she looked back at her family. “I’m pregnant!” Tears burst out of her eyes as she laughed and cried simultaneously. I squeezed her hand before I released it so she could hug her sisters and father. Romero turned to Liliana, who looked like this was the happiest day of her life. “You knew?”

“Only for a few days. I had to promise not to tell anyone.”

Romero stepped up to me and held out his hand. I took it. He surprised me by pulling me into a hug and giving my back a pat. “I’m happy for you two, and I can tell you’re happy too.”

He pulled back and gave me a nod. The only one who held back with his excitement—because he didn’t feel any, I assumed—was Flavio. He hugged Sara briefly but gave me only one of his usual nods.

He wasn’t known for being reserved, so this was definitely because he hated me.

“Let’s eat,” Liliana urged.

We settled around the table.

“I should have known something was up when you insisted on buying mayonnaise for the Vitello Tonnato instead of making it yourself,” Inessa said with a grin.

I frowned, not following her train of thought.

“The eggs,” Inessa said in a duh kind of way, giving me an exasperated look. She could be a handful. “Pregnant women aren’t supposed to eat raw eggs, and the storebought stuff Mom got doesn’t have any eggs.”

“Thanks for the life lesson,” I said dryly and gave her a wink.

She raised her chin.

As usual, Liliana had cooked way too much, and it tasted fantastic. After hearing Amo’s stories from his mother’s failed cooking attempts and my mother’s stories of Gianna’s experimental and hazardous cooking style, I wondered how she was so good. “How come you cook like a professional chef and your sisters don’t?”

“They don’t just cook badly, they pose a risk to humankind with their food,” Flavio said. I gave him a surprised look. He rarely said anything when Sara and I were over for dinner.

“I love cooking. For Aria and Gianna, it’s a necessary evil. That’s the main difference,” Liliana said with a smile. I supposed that applied to more than just cooking. I was a good Enforcer because I enjoyed breaking our enemies.

After dinner, Romero asked me to go to his garage to see his new vintage car. I admired the dark green Alfa Romeo 200 Berlina. It had rust all over it, and the brown leather seats were washed out by the sun and had rips in them. Two of the four front lights were broken, and there was probably more damage that wasn’t obvious right away.

I still remembered the first time he’d asked me to join him in his garage after our first Christmas dinner. I had been convinced he’d try to bury me under his car and say it was an accident.

I told Romero as we circled the car, which was too small for my personal comfort.

He gave me an amused look as he let his hand glide over the hood reverently. “I would never kill someone at our home. Lily would never forgive me.”

I chuckled. “So you thought about it.”

He became serious. “There were moments, unreasonable moments that passed quickly. I always knew you weren’t the one I really wanted to kill.”

I gave a nod and pushed my hands into my pockets, wishing I hadn’t brought it up.

Romero stepped up to me. “I’m glad my reasonable side won because I can tell things between you and Sara are good now, and soon you’ll have your own family.”

“We’re working on our marriage every day.”

The door to the garage opened, and Flavio entered, looking uncomfortable. Romero walked toward him, and they exchanged a few quiet words I didn’t catch before Romero moved toward the door. “I’ll grab a few beers for us.”

He left Flavio and me alone. Flavio focused on the car and shrugged. “I feel like a sardine in that car.”

“Me too. I prefer my Suburban.”

“You’re half giant, so it’s not really surprising,” Flavio said with a half smile. He sobered, his eyes on mine. Like Romero, he looked like a mother-in-law’s dream, all sonny boy and white dress shirts. He straightened and cleared his throat. “I…I’m okay with you, you know? It took some time, but I think I’ve worked through it. Mom thinks I should apologize, but I can’t do that. Just know, I’ll try to accept you as part of this family now.”

He extended his hand, and I took it. “I never expected an apology. I understand every bit of hate and anger you felt toward me. I’m glad you’re giving me a chance, though.”

Romero came in with beers shortly after, and we drank them together as he explained his newest car to us. His passionate monologue almost made me eager for one of those babies too, but I simply preferred the comfort of new cars.

Shortly before midnight, I decided to walk home with Sara. It was a short distance and I’d drunk two beers. In the past, that had never stopped me from getting behind the wheel, but fuck, I wouldn’t risk anything with Sara in a car with me. If something happened to her or the baby because of a crash, I’d dump myself in the Hudson with Romero’s and Flavio’s help.

Sara gave me a pleased smile when I told her why I wanted to walk. Holding her hand, we headed down the street. We had almost reached our building when I noticed suspicious movement on the other side. I glanced over but the person who’d slinked from one car to the other was no longer there. Fuck. I reached for my gun and pulled Sara against me but never slowed.

Sara snuggled up to me, obviously not realizing why I had tugged her against me. I was glad. I didn’t want her to be scared.

I walked faster. I couldn’t hunt down whoever had been following us without leaving Sara behind, and that definitely wasn’t an option. I risked another glance back, but I didn’t see anything. Either he was gone or I had imagined the movement, but my instincts usually were on point.

Sara lifted her head curiously as I ushered her into the building and closed the door. “Is everything okay?”

I gave her a forced smile. “I just need to go to the bathroom. Too much beer.”

She shook her head with a laugh and let me pull her along.

Once we were in the apartment, I engaged the lock and hurried into the bathroom. I sent Amo, Romero and Dad a text with what happened.

None of them questioned what I’d seen. Romero promised to search the area with Flavio, and Amo sent more guards and would discuss the situation with Luca.

Dad offered to come over with Primo despite being at work, but that would have only made Sara suspicious. I asked them to take over my debtors tomorrow so I could stay with Sara until I’d figured out a safety concept that would satisfy my need to protect her.

In the weeks that followed my sighting, Sara was either guarded by Flavio and Romero or Dad and Primo when I wasn’t present. I blamed the sudden increase in protection on her pregnancy, and luckily, she believed me.

Sara had gone through enough. I wouldn’t burden her with the knowledge of a possible threat. This time, nothing would happen to her or the baby.

I lay on the couch and read a cozy mystery that made me laugh constantly. My hormones were all over the place, so books with dark topics or too much drama were out of the question.

I glanced at my cell phone screen. It was already close to midnight, and Maximus wasn’t home yet.

Maximus’s workload had increased in the past three months. He told me he wanted to collect extra work hours so he wouldn’t feel bad if he took some time off after I gave birth, but I could tell that wasn’t the entire truth. It wasn’t as if he had a nine-to-five job. If something big came up, he’d have to work, no matter if I had just given birth. Something was definitely bothering Maximus. Since I had been so adamant about him letting go of his wish for revenge, I assumed he still had a few people on his list that he wanted to kill. While I was very happy that Jabba and his men were dead, I didn’t understand the obsessive need for more blood.

When Maximus wasn’t by my side, Flavio or Dad usually kept watch. Sometimes Growl or Primo jumped in too. I wasn’t sure if my additional protection was because of my pregnancy like Maximus claimed or because of something related to his work.

Now Flavio slouched in the armchair across from me, playing a game on his phone while his eyes kept drooping. He had taken over from Dad after lunch and had been boring himself to death inside the apartment all day. I had felt too tired all day for any outside activities.

“Why don’t you go home? There are two bodyguards in front of the door,” I said. “I’ll be fine. And Maximus will be home any moment.”

Flavio looked up from his screen and cocked an eyebrow. “Even if Maximus wouldn’t kick my ass if I left you by yourself, I’d feel horrible if I did. I’ll stay until your husband returns.”

I sighed. Yawning, I wondered if I should just go to bed. I preferred to wait up until Maximus returned, but I was exhausted, and I had an early appointment with my doctor in the morning.

Flavio’s phone buzzed, and he picked up. His body language changed as he listened to the other person. He got up, in a forced casual manner, and strolled toward the window. His lips set in a tight line. I pushed to my feet, wondering what was going on outside our window.

Flavio ended the call and gave me a tight smile. “Maybe you should go to bed.”

I walked toward him, but he stopped me with a hand against my arm before I could reach the window. A woman screamed outside. I shoved Flavio’s arm away. “Let me through!”

“Sara,” he implored, but he knew better than to stop me. I rushed toward the window overlooking the street and froze when I saw one of my bodyguards clamping a hand over the mouth of a young woman who lived in the house across from us. She looked terrified. Then I saw why she’d screamed. Maximus stood on the sidewalk to her left. Covered in blood, he held a knife in hand, and a body lay at his feet. The streetlamp illuminated the gruesome scene so I could see the big puddle of blood around the corpse.

My heart rate picked up. “Oh my god. He’s hurt.”

“He’s not,” Flavio said calmly. “It’s not his blood.”

“How do you know?” I asked sharply. “I want to see my husband now!”

“Sara.”

“Either he comes up or I’ll go down. But I want to talk to him.”

Flavio picked up his phone with an exasperated expression. He probably thought my pregnancy hormones made me unreasonable when him being a Made Man made him blind to the reality of how horrible a sight this was. After a few rings, Maximus must have answered because Flavio said, “Sara is freaking out. She wants to talk to you.” He gritted his teeth. “I couldn’t stop her. If you didn’t stand under the streetlamp like a bad actor, she wouldn’t have seen you covered in blood.”

Flavio hung up, then turned to me. “He’s coming up. He doesn’t want you out on the street.”

“Who did he kill?” I asked.

Flavio shook his head and raised his palms. “I won’t say a word.”

My older sister scowl didn’t get any results either, so I decided to wait for Maximus. When he stepped through the front door, I froze, my belly doing a dangerous flip. My nausea had improved considerably, but the amount of blood that covered Maximus from head to toe was too much for me. I lifted a finger, then rushed into the bathroom and threw up. Maximus stayed in the doorway. I flushed the toilet, then washed my mouth, but I didn’t go closer to Maximus.

“Are you injured?” I pressed out, breathing through my mouth.

“It’s not my blood.”

Flavio shrugged. “That’s what I said, but she didn’t believe me.”

“I can take a shower.”

“Please,” I said.

Maximus stepped up to Flavio, and they exchanged a few quiet words before my brother left. Maximus moved toward our bathroom, and I followed him from a safe distance. He undressed and tossed his stained clothes on the floor. “I’ll throw them away later, don’t worry,” he said as he stepped into the shower and turned on the water.

When most of the blood on his face and hands was gone, I moved a bit closer despite the stench coming from his clothes. “What happened?”

Maximus stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. He regarded me with a gauging expression.

“You killed someone in front of our home.”

He tossed the towel over the edge of the bathtub and came toward me completely naked. A bruise bloomed under his rib cage on his right side. “He’s dead now.”

“Should I be worried?

“I don’t want you to worry.”

“That wasn’t my question. I know you’re keeping something from me.”

“The life we’re living is full of dangers. I don’t want you to constantly worry. That’s my job and so is your protection, and I’m taking both seriously.” He cupped my face. “You have enough on your plate, growing a baby and taking care of the two of you.”

I nodded, even if I wasn’t happy with his reply. “Will you be able to come to my appointment tomorrow? There’s a big chance that we’ll find out the gender of our baby.”

“Nothing will stop me. I won’t miss any milestones of this pregnancy. The danger is over.”

We went to bed, and I snuggled up to Maximus. I ran my hands over his chest and stomach, needing to assure myself that he was okay. Of course, I knew how dangerous Maximus’s life as a Made Man was, especially as an Enforcer, but being witness to it added a different dimension to it.

I didn’t want to imagine losing Maximus. I couldn’t imagine being without him anymore. I wanted to see him become a dad to our baby. Despite the darkness that he undoubtedly harbored, he was a wonderful husband, and I knew he’d be a wonderful dad too.

I watched Sara fall asleep in my arms, her cheek pressed against my chest. My adrenaline kept me from sleeping. If I was lucky, I’d catch a few hours in the early morning.

My phone lit up with a call from Romero. I had it on mute so as not to wake Sara. I didn’t want her to find out more about my current worries. She should have never seen me covered in blood either.

“Romero, how’s it?”

“Everything’s cleaned up. The neighbor is handled. She’s in need of a vacation. We donated her the necessary funds.”

I smirked. I hated beating around the bush, but if law enforcement kept an eye on you, there really wasn’t another option. Romero’s cryptic words meant the murder scene had been cleaned of evidence and that my neighbor who’d unfortunately witnessed the crime had been threatened and bribed into silence, and would be moving out of the state with the money the Famiglia had given her.

“It’s unfortunate that we couldn’t talk to our visitor before you sent him off.”

“Trust me, I wish he were still around to talk,” I muttered. I hadn’t meant to kill him—yet. But when I’d seen a figure watching Sara’s and my apartment, I’d been determined to catch him. I had caught him, but in the resulting brawl, my knife had cut through the artery in his thigh, and he’d bled out within a minute. No time to torture any information out of him. But I knew Jabba’s father had sent him.

“We’ll find him,” Romero said. “But maybe Sara and you should consider making a trip out of the city.”

“I’ll talk to her,” I said, then hung up. I’d tried to talk Sara into moving in with my parents before, but she wanted to stay in the city, close to her parents. After this close call, I’d have to convince her.

I turned off the lights and listened to Sara’s rhythmic breathing. She trusted me enough to fall asleep even after what she’d seen today. I gently pressed my palm against her belly. “I’ll keep you and your mom safe, I swear.”

When Sara’s alarm rang at 5:30, I had just fallen asleep. Groaning, I pulled Sara against me and buried my face in her hair.

“We have to get up,” Sara said sleepily.

I grunted. Sara twisted in my arm but I didn’t release her. The click of the lamp told me she’d turned the lamp on. Even with closed eyes, the brightness hurt my tired brain.

“Maximus, we really have to get up. I have to take a shower before the appointment.”

I took a whiff. “You smell good. Stay in bed with me.”

Sara let out a laugh and wriggled her way out of my hold. “I’m going to take a shower now. You don’t have to come with me if you’re too tired.”

She slipped out of bed. I opened one eye a slit and watched her move into the bathroom. Groaning, I sat up. I wouldn’t miss this appointment for anything in the world. I’d accompanied Sara to every appointment so far, and today, we might find out the gender.

I got myself a strong coffee in the kitchen before I moved back to the bedroom to grab clothes. Sara was still in the shower, shaving and doing whatever else she deemed necessary before seeing her doctor.

I downed my coffee and felt a tiny bit more prepared for the day. Sleepless nights weren’t new to me, but the things that usually got me awake quickly—sex, a hard workout, or a fight—were all out of the question now. Sara came in a few minutes later, dressed in underwear. By now, I had managed to put boxers on.

“The coffee didn’t help?”

I shrugged. “It did, but it’s not enough.” I told her what usually got my blood pumping, then asked, “I assume there isn’t a chance of you waking me up with a quick round of sex?”

Sara pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. “I won’t have sex before a doctor’s appointment!”

I pushed to my feet and headed over to her for a brief kiss. “That’s what I thought. Do you want a coffee? I need another one.”

Sara shook her head with a smile.

Fifteen minutes later, we were on our way. Sara fumbled with her purse and worried her lower lip.

“Everything will be okay.”

“I know,” she whispered.

When we arrived at the practice and Sara had to lie down on the examination couch, anxiety filled her face. I took her hand.

She squeezed my fingers tightly when the doctor began the ultrasound. Almost immediately, the heartbeat sounded steady and reassuring. I released the breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. Sara beamed up at me, then she turned back to her doctor, who watched the ultrasound monitor in concentration. “My suspicion about the gender seems to be confirmed.” She glanced from Sara to me. “Do you want to know?”

Sara nodded, then gave me a questioning look. “I don’t like surprises,” I said.

The doctor pointed at the spot between the baby’s legs on the screen. There was something. “A boy?” I said. Sara had guessed it was a girl, female intuition apparently.

“That’s the umbilical cord,” the doctor said.

“It’s a girl, right?” Sara whispered as if she could actually make out anything on this screen.

The doctor nodded. “Congrats.”

Sara closed her eyes and covered them with her hands. She let out a sob. The doctor got up. “I’m outside if you need me.”

Seeing Sara cry reminded me of the moment she’d found out we’d lost the baby, but this time, it was obvious joy. I perched on the edge of the examination couch and wrapped an arm around her. She peered up at me through teary eyes. “I had a feeling she was a girl. I’m so happy everything’s as it should be.”

“I told you everything is going to be okay. Nothing will happen to you or our little girl.”

Our little girl. It was still hard to believe that Sara and I would be parents soon, that the pain of the past would eventually lead to this kind of happiness.

I wouldn’t allow anyone to destroy this.

Maximus carried my suitcase into his parents’ house. He’d asked me to move in with them for a week or two after the events of last night. He would be very busy at work and wanted to know I was protected. My first instinct was to move in with my parents, but Maximus was right. They still had Alea and Inessa. Plus, I actually liked the idea of getting out of the city for a bit. Whenever I looked out of our window now, I saw the gruesome murder scene.

Since I’d grown used to the dogs, I really enjoyed the time we spent at his parents’ house.

“Our dogs are the best alarm system in the world. They are loyal and unbribable. And if someone’s ever trying to attack, we’ll have the advantage of knowing these woods,” Maximus said when he dropped me off.

That was probably true, but I missed being in my own home after a week. Meeting with Isa or Greta, or visiting my family was more difficult too, so I convinced Maximus to split my time between the apartment and his parents’ house. That way, I wouldn’t bind too many resources by staying in the apartment all the time.

Things soon calmed down, and Maximus had more time for me. We resumed our old life of living in the apartment during the week so I could spend the day with my family or friends, as I’d put my art history studies on pause for the foreseeable future, and spending one night of the weekend at his parents.

Winter had the woods in its iron grip when we went to Maximus’s parents for the weekend in early December.

Since I’d entered the second trimester, my nausea had subsided, but now sleeplessness bothered me.

And when I slept, I always lived through vivid dreams. I woke from another of those and sat up tiredly. I’d dreamed about my last pregnancy, about the baby I’d lost. It had almost felt like a message from her. I was sure it had been a girl, just like this baby in my belly right now. Maximus didn’t believe in these things, but I simply felt like I needed to go to the old oak. This felt like a monumental step toward letting go of some of my fears from my missed abort.

I crept out of bed, careful not to wake Maximus. He had worked the night shift and helped his father in the shelter during the day, so he had passed out from exhaustion.

When I stepped out into the hallway, Bacon jumped up. He always slept in front of our door when we spent the night here. I briefly patted his head when he nudged me with his nose. He and I had built a tentative bond since I spent more time here.

He followed me when I went downstairs and grabbed some of the warm clothes I kept in the house. The past few nights had been below the freezing point. The four pit bulls slept in the kitchen and living area and only briefly perked up when I walked past them. A cold gust of wind hit me when I opened the front door. It had snowed, and the moonlight illuminated the snow-covered surroundings. It was beautiful and peaceful. Just what I craved. The sounds from the cities and the craziness of our world seemed so far away.

I slipped out and tried to close the door, but Bacon squeezed out before I could. I pointed inside. “Go back in.” He stayed by my side, staring off toward the tree line. “Go.”

It was obvious he wouldn’t listen to me. Oh well. Maybe it wasn’t the worst idea to have him out here in case a coyote came by. Snow crunched under my winter boots as I walked down the steps and headed down the pathway to the edge of the woods. The dogs in the shelters, most of them were inside their big huts anyway, only watched me with silent, observant eyes. They no longer perceived me as a stranger and definitely not a threat.

Bacon trotted past me and took up my front as I followed the narrow path through the woods to the oak tree. Every time I saw the cross that Maximus had carved, my heart warmed and broke at the same time. The pain of this loss wasn’t as acute as it used to be, and its place had taken the fear of losing the baby in my belly. Frost glittered on the cross. My first instinct was to wipe it away as I sank into the snow in front of it, but it looked so beautiful that I decided to leave it be. I only briefly touched my fingertips to the cold ground and closed my eyes. Baby girl moved in my belly, making me smile. Luckily, she was an active baby, and whenever she had days of rest, I poked my belly until she woke again, just to assure me that she was healthy and alive.

I touched my belly with one hand while my other remained on the frozen ground. I felt a sense of peace I hadn’t before. Maybe this was the moment the past could finally rest.

A deep, threatening rumble came from Bacon. I jumped, having completely forgotten that he was here. When I shone the flashlight on him, I could see how every impressive muscle in his body was tautened as he stared off into the dark. Another low rumble sounded, and he bared his teeth for a snarl. I pushed to my feet, wondering if these woods harbored bigger threats than coyotes? What about bears? Or mountain lions. Maximus had never mentioned either.

“Bacon?” I whispered, seeking shelter behind the oak tree. I shone the light on the spot where Bacon was looking but saw nothing but trees, their frost-covered branches glittering in the beam of my flashlight. Beyond the light cone, the gnarly trees and shrubs appeared menacing. I listened for any sounds, but I couldn’t make out anything except for Bacon’s growls, which grew in volume. My own breathing echoed in my ears.

“Bacon?”

He jumped forward, then snarled again as if he was about to attack the shadows at any moment. Fear grabbed me.

And then I heard a twig break. Bacon stormed into the darkness. A shot rang out. Bears didn’t shoot weapons.

Maybe it was Maximus or Growl looking for me? “Maximus?” I called.

No answer. Instead another shot, but not at me.

I froze for a moment, terrified, but then I shook out of my reverie and began to move away from the oak tree. I tried to be quiet, but my heavy boots and my lacking sense of balance due to my belly made it difficult.

I wanted to call for Bacon, but what if that alerted whoever was out here to my whereabouts? I had been stupid to scream Maximus’s name and had to hope I could hide quickly.

Oh, Bacon.

A scream sounded, angry shouts in Russian, then more shots and furious snarls. I started running, holding my belly with one hand to protect my baby. I hadn’t heard Russian in a long time, not since the capture, and the sound increased my terror. The flashlight gave me away, but I wasn’t sure I could find my way back to the house without it. Steps scrunched somewhere to my left. I tossed the flashlight away and tried to get my bearings with just the moonlight to guide me.

My heart pounded in my chest from exertion and fear. I could barely breathe.

Shots rang out again. Were they aiming at me? Or still trying to kill poor Bacon?

I tried to run faster, but my belly made it difficult. Why did I have to come out here tonight? Was peace of mind really worth it? What if my baby got hurt?

Steps sounded behind me, coming closer and closer. I braced myself for an attack, but instead, Bacon dashed past me. Part of his fur was dark. I could only assume it was blood. I hoped it wasn’t his own. He limped slightly, but he stayed close to me. My bodyguard.

But now new steps came up behind us. Still distant but catching up.

I bit my lip, forcing myself to go faster even as my muscles spasmed.

A tall figure stormed my way from the right. I hoped Bacon would take him down, even if the poor guy was already injured from protecting me.

The impact didn’t come. Instead, strong arms engulfed me in a warm embrace. “Sara, what the hell are you doing out here?”

“There are Russians following me,” I pressed out, then gasped for breath. Relief washed through my body like a wave.

Growl appeared behind Maximus, a shotgun in hand. I realized they were both only in pajamas and heavy boots. “Let’s get back to the house. Your mother’s alone.”

“Oh no,” I breathed out.

“The dogs will protect her,” Maximus assured me, but Growl’s obvious worry made me anxious. I didn’t want to be responsible for Cara getting hurt. Especially not because of my irresponsible actions.

Maximus lifted me in his arms and began running as if I weighed nothing, while his father guarded our backs with a pointed gun. Bacon dashed past us. Growl stopped abruptly and fired three shots in close succession. I clung to Maximus, my ears ringing from the shots. Maximus tightened his hold on me and sped up even more. Within a few minutes, we were back at the house. Cara was on the porch in a heavy down coat over her nightgown, with the four pit bulls positioned beside her like guards and a shotgun in hand. Spotlights illuminated the area, making stars dance in my vision from the sudden brightness.

“Go back in. Bratva is here,” Growl ordered. I’d never heard him talk to Cara like that. She didn’t hesitate and moved inside. Before we could follow, a shot rang out. Maximus dropped to the ground with me under him. Fear surged through me. Had he been hit? When I saw his grim expression as he pulled me behind his truck parked in the driveway, I breathed a sigh of relief. He’d ducked down to protect us. Growl turned on his heel, no longer heading for the house, and hid behind his own truck before he fired in the direction of the woods. The pit bulls inside the house with Cara barked angrily, ready to jump into the fight.

More shots were fired. I had trouble locating where they came from. Then something small landed next to Growl’s truck.

“Dad! Grenade!”

Maximus pressed me to the ground and covered my ears with his hands. The following explosion still rang in my ears, and the blast sent a shiver through my body. Glass from the bursting car windows and shrapnel from the chassis mixed with dirt and wood splinters rained down on us.

“Ryan!” Cara screamed through an opening in the front door. “Ryan?”

Maximus’s expression reflected the shock I felt, but his face also showed fury and determination. “I’ll kill those fuckers.”

“I called in reinforcement!” Cara screamed. “You better run before they hunt you down!”

I realized she was shouting at the Russians.

Maximus peered out from behind his car, probably to check on his dad, but more shots forced him to pull back.

“Maximus, if you don’t come out, I’ll bomb your mom to pieces too!” a man with a heavy Russian accent shouted.

“It’s okay. Help your mom,” I breathed even though I was terrified for myself and our baby.

“I won’t leave. They’ll kill us all if I don’t kill them. They won’t spare anyone.”

Maximus squatted and pulled his second gun, looking thoughtful. “Fuck. I know Dad would never do it, but I don’t see another chance.”

I wasn’t sure what Maximus meant. I tried to catch a glimpse under the car to see Growl. The other truck was a mess. I couldn’t imagine that anyone would survive being close to it. My heart ached thinking about Growl.

Suddenly, Bacon appeared beside us. He must have hidden because of the explosion. He wagged his tail against me. In the light from the spotlights, which was dimmer now because two of five had been destroyed by the blast, I could see that he had a wound in his flank. A graze shot from the look of it.

Maximus still seemed to mull over what to do. Then he gave a resolute nod. “I can’t beat them alone.”

I frowned. “Maybe reinforcement will be here soon.”

“Not soon enough.”

“But we have reinforcement,” Maximus said, and his eyes moved to the dog cages.

My eyes widened.

As if Cara had read his mind, she opened the front door and rushed outside, followed by her four pit bulls. The dogs sprinted in the direction of where Growl had to be, but Cara ran toward the cages.

“Mom seems to have the same plan.”

Maximus glanced at me.

“Help her!”

“I won’t leave you.”

“Help her, or we’ll all die. Bacon can protect me.”

A grenade cut our conversation short as it landed a couple of feet beside Maximus. He moved quicker than I thought possible and kicked the thing away. It flew toward the cage of Houdini and exploded, tearing a hole into the fence. Maximus aimed into the woods and fired several shots, then ducked back down. He grabbed my arm and tugged me around to the back of the truck.

Suddenly, Houdini was there, baring his teeth. I had never gone close to his cage, heeding Maximus’s warning. Maximus raised his gun, but the dog rushed away, soon chased by more dogs freed from their cages by Cara. Shots rang out as barks and snarls erupted in the forest, closely followed by screams and more snarls and shots.

Maximus pulled me toward the remains of the other truck. Before we even reached it, I could see blood pooling on the ground.

Cara ran in our direction, her expression filled with determination.

Maximus and I finally reached Growl. His calf was torn apart, but a belt around his thigh, right above the knee, seemed to have stopped the blood flow. “He’s alive!” Maximus shouted as he sank to his knees beside his father. He felt for his pulse and nodded, looking relieved. “He must have passed out after he stopped the blood flow.”

Cara threw herself down beside him and touched his cheeks. “Ryan? Ryan!”

Maximus removed his own belt and wrapped it around the thigh as well.

Growl opened his eyes and looked at his wife. Relief flooded me, and tears ran down my cheeks. Maximus squeezed my hand. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

He glanced at my belly. “What about her?”

“She is too.”

I could feel her moving. The excitement was definitely affecting her.

Maximus pushed to his feet. “I’ll hunt the attackers now.”

“You should stay,” Cara said. “Your father is in no state to protect us. You need to protect Sara and your father, Maximus.”

Maximus looked torn between the need to chase the attackers and his need to protect us. Eventually, he nodded and gazed into the woods with his guns pointed in that direction. The screams and snarls had quieted, and there were no shots.

He patted Bacon, who had stayed by our side.

“The dogs will have taken care of the attackers,” Maximus said quietly. “There were too many.”

“They protected us,” I whispered.

“Houdini was out for carnage,” Maximus said.

A few minutes later, my dad and brother and more reinforcement arrived at the house. Dad and Flavio immediately led me into the house, while Growl was taken to the Famiglia hospital by Primo. The rest of the men searched the woods for the attackers, Maximus included.

When they returned twenty minutes later, Maximus’s expression was dark. He was still in his blood-and-dirt-covered pajamas.

“Did they escape?” I asked worriedly, getting up from where I’d huddled under cozy blankets in front of the fireplace.

“No,” Maximus said. “Houdini was still chewing on Adrik when we found him.”

I could hear the regret in his voice, the longing for retaliation. I didn’t know who Adrik was, but I assumed Maximus had been hunting him for a while, and that could only mean he was somehow linked to our capture.

“That’s good.” I searched his eyes. “Right?”

Maximus shook his head and kicked off his boots. “He was supposed to be mine.”

I took his hand and squeezed, drawing his attention away from his dark thoughts. “Who was he?”

“Jabba’s father, out to avenge his sons.”

Revenge and more revenge. I got it, to some extent, but this led to more pain than we could all take.

We’d been closing in on Adrik for weeks. I had felt it in my bones that I needed to protect Sara but had underestimated Adrik’s determination and hunger for revenge. All of us had. It had almost cost the lives of the people I loved.

I glared at the mangled remains of Adrik. We would drop them off in front of one of the Bratva establishments. Luca had been fond of the plan when I’d asked him on the phone. Would the current Pakhan retaliate? Maybe. Or maybe this was the final straw, and the puppet masters in Russia would finally put a new Pakhan in power, someone more reliable.

“Help me pack the body on my truck bed,” I told Primo.

Sara gave me a confused look from where she sat on the swing hammock on the porch. She’d refused to stay inside despite the carnage out here.

“We’ll send the Bratva a warning.”

She touched her belly, rubbing it slowly like she often did. Her eyes were forlorn when they met mine. “When will it be over?”

“Over?”

“Your quest for revenge?”

“I’ll get some rope to secure the freight,” Primo said and disappeared in the barn, obviously uncomfortable by our discussion. I gave Sara a blank look. I needed something to keep me going, and revenge was that. I lived for revenge. It was all I could think about when I didn’t think about her, about Sara and our baby.

“It has to be enough at some point. You have already killed so many. It won’t change the past, but it’ll stop you from moving on from it.”

I moved closer, and with Sara standing on the porch, we were at eye level. “Can you just move on?”

She frowned. “We have a future to look forward to.” She rubbed her belly again. “We have her and hopefully more children to live for.”

I nodded slowly. She set all her hopes on our child, and I too hoped it would be a new milestone for us, but I was also fucking worried that things would go wrong at some point. I hated feeling helpless like that. Sara had some semblance of control over how she took care of her body. She ate healthy, did pregnancy yoga, took supplements, and listened to calming music. She did everything she could to feel good about this pregnancy. All I could do was kill everyone who had ever worked with or was related to Jabba to make sure my family would be safe in the future. I knew fucking well that revenge was a slippery slope.

“It’ll be over soon. If the Pakhan doesn’t retaliate, we have no reason to attack,” I told her. The conflict with the Bratva was naturally far from over, but it had lain dormant in the past and it could again.

“So you’ll leave me alone?” she asked, the hint of reproach in her voice.

Ouch. I touched her cheek. “Your brother and father will take you home with them. I’ll go visit my father in the hospital once I’ve dropped off the body. Then I need to help out here, catch the dogs that are still on the run and help with the damage.”

She nodded slowly. “I could help too.”

“No,” I said firmly. “I want you to rest. You’ve had enough excitement.”

I gave her a quick kiss on the mouth, then headed toward my brother to help him with the rope. Primo came out of the barn with the rope and his phone in the other hand.

“Mom messaged me. Dad’s in surgery. They don’t know if they can save his calf.”

I gritted my teeth. “Dad’s tough as steel. He’ll pull through.”

“You’ve got a few cuts too, and the way you keep touching your ribs, you should have those checked as well,” Primo said.

I waved him off. That was the least of my worries. Once the body was safely stowed and I’d made sure that Sara was on her way to her parents, I drove off. Primo and a few men would stay and clean up.

After I’d dumped Adrik in front of the Bratva’s newest bar, I headed to the Famiglia hospital. When I stepped into the old abandoned factory building that harbored a fully functioning hospital unit that worked on demand, I saw Luca and Mom talking to a blood-covered doc. I hurried toward them.

The doc gave me a nod. Mom’s face was ashen but also full of resolution.

“They had to take off his leg up to the knee,” she said when I stopped beside them.

“Fuck,” I gritted out. Those Bratva bastards.

“The injuries he sustained were too great. This is the cleanest solution, and with the help of a good prosthesis, he’ll be up in no time.”

Mom nodded. I touched her shoulder, and when she leaned against me, I wrapped an arm around her. “Can we go see him now?” she asked.

“He should wake any moment, so yes.”

I led Mom behind the curtain of the patient cubicle. Dad lay in bed with his eyes closed. Mom immediately went over to him and sat down on the mattress. She took his hand, careful not to tug at the transfusion needle.

“He’ll be fine,” I assured her, but I had to admit it was strange to see my father helpless. He’d suffered many injuries in his life. I had stitched him up on more occasions than I could count, but he’d never been incapacitated like this.

He stirred, and his eyelids dragged up. He looked at Mom and gave her a small smile.

I considered giving them privacy, but then he looked over at me.

“Sara?”

“She and the baby are safe too. Primo is at the house, trying to catch the dogs that ran off, but he’ll visit you later today when I take his place.”

Dad nodded. “What happened after I lost consciousness?”

Mom gave him an apologetic smile. “I unleashed the dogs. I know we said they should never have to fight for humans again, but I didn’t see another way.”

“You did the right thing. You and Max saved us.”

He glanced down his body. “My leg?”

Mom exchanged a look with me. I cleared my throat. “They had to amputate it up to the knee, Dad. But we’ll get you the best prosthesis money can buy, and you’ll be running in no time.”

Dad’s face remained stoic, but I could see in his eyes how much the news bothered him. Dad was used to being strong, but he’d have to rely on others for a while until he could be strong again.

“Once you’re used to the prosthesis, you’ll probably be even quicker on your feet,” Mom said. “I’ll help you with the physical therapy.”

Dad’s lips pulled into a smirk. “We could start now.”

Mom flushed and gave Dad an indignant look.

I shook my head with a grimace. “I’ll head back to the shelter so you can do whatever you want, all right?” I waved as I stepped outside. Dad making this kind of innuendo was a good indicator of how well the painkillers worked, but it also gave me hope that things would be back to normal soon.

After a long day of cleaning up at the shelter and a short meeting with Luca, Matteo, and Amo, I returned home to Sara’s and my apartment around midnight.

The two bodyguards in the hallway nodded at me, and inside waited Valerio. He was stretched out on the sofa, a bag with chips on the floor beside him and the newest Fast and Furious movie playing on the TV.

He had been the only one who could watch Sara tonight. Everyone else had their own wives and children to protect. She had insisted on sleeping at our place and not at her parents’. I wondered if she wanted to protect them or if she finally saw this place as her home.

Valerio swung his legs off the sofa and shoved to his feet. “There you are. I have a date.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “You didn’t even know what time I’d be home, and it’s midnight now.”

“I’m worth the wait,” Valerio said with a wink before he walked out, leaving the chips bag on the floor and crumbles all over the sofa. I picked the bag up and cleaned the crumbs off the sofa. I knew how much it bothered Sara if the apartment wasn’t clean when she woke in the morning.

She never said anything, but I could read her expressions. The exasperation in her eyes when I left my clothes somewhere or dropped a wet towel on the bed had quickly made me adapt my actions.

I went into the primary bedroom, surprised when I didn’t find Sara in bed. The bathroom door was open, and she stood in front of the mirror with closed eyes, caressing her belly.

“I love you so much, little one. So very much. I can’t wait to hold you. I’m counting down the days until you’re safe in my arms.”

In her nightgown, the bump was clearly visible, and it filled me with an intense sense of protectiveness. I’d caught her doing her nightly ritual a few times before, but I’d always quickly retreated because it had seemed like something very personal, something she didn’t want to share. But today, I wanted her to know I was here. After tonight’s events, I wanted to share a moment of peace with her.

I approached her. I didn’t try to be stealthy, but Sara was so focused on herself that she jumped when I wrapped my arms around her from behind and put my palms over hers. She met my gaze in the mirror, her eyes questioning. “How long have you been listening?”

“From the start. It’s not the first time either.”

She flushed. “I’m talking to Ambra.”

“Ambra?”

She flushed even more and gave a small shrug. “It’s not the name we have to pick. It’s just that in my head, in my dreams, she always has your eyes, so I started calling her Ambra in my thoughts. I know it’s stupid. It’s just a feeling I have.” She looked uncomfortable that I’d caught her. Did she worry I’d ridicule her need to talk to our baby? That I’d be angry because she called her by this beautiful name. Knowing that Sara imagined our daughter having my eyes made me proud.

“I know it might look odd, but I like talking to her. I want her to know that I love her.” Tears shone in her eyes, and fuck, if that didn’t make me feel as if someone had put my black heart in a vise.

I moved my palms down from her hands and put them flat against her rounded belly beside hers. “I know she can feel your love every second of the day.” My voice felt scratchy and rough. I cleared my throat, not sure how to do this. Expressing feelings still felt awkward, as if I was being unmanly. “Hey, little Ambra,” I began, even if I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet.

“We don’t have to use that name. We can pick one together,” she whispered.

“I trust your intuition, and I love the name. I don’t see a reason we should pick another one.” I could tell how much this pleased her.

I looked down at my hands on Sara’s belly because I couldn’t look into her eyes while saying what I wanted to say. Today as I worried about her life, my feelings for Sara had become crystal clear.

“Hey little Ambra, I just want you to know I’m so happy about you. And I know you can feel it every day, but your mom loves you so much.” I cleared my throat again because it felt fucking tight and dry. Could the baby even hear us? I wasn’t sure, but just the chance that she might made this feel like a monumental moment. “We can’t wait to hold you.” Sara moved her hands on top of mine. I didn’t mind making a fool out of myself when it meant Sara felt better. Today must have been hard for her if she couldn’t fall asleep. What I wanted to say next was even harder. I wasn’t sure I could actually do it. I had never tried. “And I want you to know that I will love you every day of my life just like I love your mom.”

My head felt hot, and I couldn’t look at my reflection in the mirror. Emotions were hard.

“Oh, Maximus,” Sara said in a shaky voice. “I love you too.”

I looked up, shocked. I hadn’t expected Sara to say it back, especially because I didn’t even have the balls to tell her directly. Get a grip, man.

“I love you.” I blew out a breath, feeling out of my element.

Sara gave me an understanding smile, her eyes watery. “You don’t have to say more. Some things don’t require an explanation.”

“I doubt there’s a reasonable explanation why you would love me.”

“Oh, but there is,” she said firmly, her gaze unwavering and certain. “But even if there wasn’t. Love doesn’t need a reason.”

“What I said today about revenge giving my life a purpose was bullshit. I don’t need revenge for that. Having you in my life has given me more satisfaction and happiness than I’d ever thought possible.”

Sara’s belly twitched under my palms. I froze and stared down at our hands. Had I imagined the twitch?

“Did you feel her?” Sara asked with wide eyes and quickly put her hands beside mine. “She’s very active, but she’s never kicked me this hard before, never hard enough that I could feel it on the outside.”

Another twitch followed. Sara clapped a hand over her mouth, tears falling down her cheeks. “It’s her way to show us that she heard everything.”

I put my chin down on Sara’s head and closed my eyes, simply feeling the gentle movements of our child. Who knew that such a small thing could make me so happy?

My due date was today, but there wasn’t a single sign that our daughter would make her way into the world anytime soon. I didn’t want to be induced or have a cesarean, but if baby girl didn’t come within the next forty-eight hours, my doc advised me to go to a hospital.

“Can we go to your parents’? I’d really like to visit the old oak.” This place had become such a vital part of this pregnancy and my life that I felt the need to visit it once more before the birth of our daughter turned my life upside down.

Maximus gave me a doubtful look. “You could give birth at any moment. We should stay close to the hospital.”

“I’m a first-time mother. It’ll take many hours before I give birth, so even if I go into labor at your parents’, there will be plenty of time to drive back to the city.”

After a few more arguments, Maximus finally caved, and we headed for his parents’.

It was a beautiful spring day, sunny and cloudless, but still quite fresh. The air was crisp, and the birds chirped excitedly, welcoming the warmer weather.

Only Cara was home, and she prepared tea and cookies for us. Maximus took in the fixed fencing as Cara and I sat on the porch with mugs of tea and wrapped into cozy blankets. Due to the damage the shelter had sustained, certain parts of the fencing needed constant repair. After a while, I felt restless, and the pain in my lower back, which had increased in the last few hours, became impossible to ignore. “Can we take a walk?” I asked as I rose to my feet.

Maximus came over, a frown tightening his face. “Are you okay?”

“Just restless.”

“Don’t go too far, all right?” Cara urged, regarding me with open worry.

I gave her a smile and nodded, then Maximus and I strolled into the forest, hand in hand. We stayed on the path as it wasn’t as bumpy and had been mostly cleaned of fallen leaves and twigs. Bacon accompanied us, trotting a few steps ahead and scanning the area. Since the attack, Maximus and his brother had set up intelligent motion cameras at the border of their premises that could distinguish between animal and human movements.

Despite the cool air, I felt incredibly hot in my coat. I felt half tempted to undress, which was completely crazy. When we arrived at the old oak, I took my coat off despite Maximus’s protest.

I bent down to touch the wooden cross when something warm ran down my legs, soaking my pants, and the pain in my back radiated to my lower belly. I gritted my teeth and blew out a long breath.

“Sara?”

I sucked in a deep breath, then pressed it out slowly, counting to fifteen.

“Sara?”

I raised my palm.

Maximus fell silent as I breathed through the pain.

With Maximus’s help, I straightened when the pain subsided.

“I think I’m in labor,” I told him when I met his worried gaze.

“We need to return to the house!” He grabbed my hand as if to tug me along, but another

wave of pain radiated through my body. Less than two minutes apart. What was going on?

I focused on breathing and shook Maximus’s hand off like a bothersome fly.

During the next pause, I said, “I can’t walk.”

“I’ll carry you.” Maximus lifted me into his arms when another wave of pain wrecked my body. In his arms, I couldn’t breathe through it, and the pain was even worse. “Put me down,” I rasped, then screamed, “Put me down,” when he didn’t react fast enough. Bacon circled us nervously.

Maximus set me down immediately, and I grabbed his forearms, digging my nails into them to steady myself.

This was going fast. “I can feel her bearing down,” I whispered.

“What?” Maximus asked, confused, which infuriated me.

“I need to get on my knees,” I hissed.

Maximus stared at me, then at the ground. Why didn’t he understand? He removed his jacket and put it down.

“Help me undress,” I ordered.

He reached for my cardigan, and I almost lost it.

“My pants!”

I sounded like a fury, and I felt as unhinged as one.

Maximus tugged my pants and underwear down and helped me step out of them. I sank to the ground on all fours, alternating between breathing and screaming. Maximus got down on his knees in front of me, and I put my hands on his muscled thighs for better leverage than the slippery ground. My nails dug into his legs as the pain took hold of my body once more.

“Fuck,” Maximus muttered. “What am I supposed to do?”

I couldn’t speak, and if I had been capable, I would have said things I would have regretted later, so my muteness was a good thing.

The pressure got unbearable, and I tried to work with it, even if a part of me wanted to shove the baby back up. And then I felt it, the head bursting through.

I stared up at Maximus with wide eyes, breathing harshly. I reached under my body with one hand and felt a small head and lots of hair. I laughed, then worry gripped me. Even if my body didn’t give me any signals, I started pushing again. I wanted her out as fast as possible. “Hold me.” The words were barely audible, but Maximus grabbed my shoulders as I reached my second arm under me.

With a harsh scream, baby girl slid out and landed in my arms. I lowered her to the jacket, then stared at her. She opened her eyes wide and screamed at the top of her lungs, probably because of the drop in temperature.

“Oh man,” Maximus breathed. I sat back, shaking, and lifted her into my arms.

The moment I saw our baby girl, I knew my instincts had been right. Her eyes weren’t amber yet, but their brownish-blue hue held the promise of amber. She would have her dad’s eyes, I had no doubt. And even if she didn’t have his eyes, she was as precious as a gemstone to us, so naming her after amber seemed only fitting.

“Ambra,” I whispered.

Maximus stared at her, then at me and back at her. “Ambra.”

I leaned back against the tree and unbuttoned my cardigan with trembling fingers, then tugged my boob out of my top. I reached for Ambra and put her on my chest. She immediately latched onto my breast. I covered her with my cardigan to keep her warm. Maximus removed his sweater and covered us with it. “I should get help,” he said, a bit out of it. He pulled out his phone as if he didn’t know that the signal was almost nonexistent in this spot. He knelt beside us. “What—”

Bacon let out a warning bark.

Steps rang out, and Maximus shot to his feet, reaching for his gun. Bacon began wagging his tail.

“It’s me. I heard screaming,” Cara said as she stepped into view with wide eyes as they settled on me and Ambra. She held a shotgun in her hand and had three pit bulls with her. The fourth hadn’t survived the attack, and they hadn’t yet taken in another family dog. When the dogs moved forward with interest, Bacon stepped in their way and bared his teeth. With a snap of her fingers, the pit bulls returned to Cara’s side.

“Oh wow,” she breathed. “I’ll run back to the house and call your midwife and the doc. Can you carry them?”

“Of course,” Maximus rumbled. He bent over me and lifted me into his arms with Ambra still on my chest. She was still connected to me with the umbilical cord.

“You’ll get dirty. I’m bleeding.”

“It’s fine,” Maximus said gruffly, his eyes locking on mine with warmth and concern.

I tore my gaze away from Ambra and glanced down at the small cross. Deep down, I knew it was a sign that Ambra had decided to be born here, and it filled the last crack that had remained in my heart.

I huddled on the comfy couch. Cara had prepared tea for me and turned on the heater, though it wasn’t very cold in the house.

Maximus had pulled a kitchen chair up to the sofa and was watching Ambra and me.

I stroked her cheeks, her forehead, her tiny nose, loving how squishy she looked pressed against my boob as she drank. I’d never felt more…arrived. As if I’d finally found my true purpose. Eventually, she stopped nursing and blinked up at me sleepily.

The midwife and doc had already left. Maximus had cut through the umbilical cord, and I’d changed into clean clothes while the doc and midwife had checked on a protesting Ambra and me.

“Do you want to hold her?” I asked Maximus.

Maximus gave me a look as if the question took him completely off guard. He wiped his hands on his jeans and nodded. He rose to his feet, and with my help, he lifted our tiny daughter into his arms.

“Are they always this small?” he asked, worried. Cara watched with teary eyes, then slipped out and left us alone.

I bit my lip. “She’s average size.”

Maximus’s brows puckered. “No, nothing about you is average, Ambra. You are magnificent.”

The floodworks opened, and I cried.

Maximus raised his head, alarmed. “Are you in pain? Should I call the doc?” He reached for his phone, but I quickly put my hand on his to stop him.

“No, I mean, I am, but I’m fine. I just… I’m just happy.”

Maximus nodded, still with an air of confusion.

“I’m really tired. Can we go up to the bedroom? I don’t think I can return to our apartment tonight.”

Maximus handed me Ambra again, then carried us both up the stairs. He put us gently down on the bed, then stretched out beside us. He too had changed out of his dirty clothes when the doc and midwife were here. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and I leaned my head against him. Ambra had fallen asleep on top of me in the bonding shirt that my midwife had given me. I loved the skin-on-skin contact, and I could tell that Ambra did too.

Maximus shook his head and blew out a breath. “I never understood when people said their whole world turned upside down because they became parents. I do now.”

I nodded because I felt different. I felt protective of Ambra, and a love so unconditional and powerful took my breath away.

I met Maximus’s gaze. “It hasn’t always been easy, and our beginning was tough. But now, knowing where it leads us, I’d do it all over again. I’d live through every dark moment, every fear, and every second of pain just to arrive right here, right this moment.”

How could I match this declaration? I took after Dad when it came to my emotions. It made me feel uncomfortable and as if I was deeply out of my element. I wasn’t good with words, especially if they were supposed to encompass the enormity of my feelings.

Fuck, I was still out of it from witnessing Sara giving birth by herself. Because I knew I wasn’t a huge help. I’d been overwhelmed and in awe. Terrified even. I’d heard the horror stories of women dying during birth, and Sara went into labor in the middle of nowhere without medical support.

Sara had mastered it gracefully like she’d conquered every hurdle thrown her way. Her strength was extraordinary.

Hearing her say those words of love healed some wounds of the past. Sara had never blamed me, not for what Jabba forced me to do, nor for being the reason why we were captured in the first place. I’d always carry my guilt, but it didn’t threaten to crush me anymore. I wanted to put into words what Sara meant to me, what Ambra and our family meant to me, but things like that were fucking hard for me.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Sara said, seeing my struggle.

“But I want to,” I said firmly. I touched her cheek. She was pale from blood loss, another reminder that things could have ended differently and I should never take this for granted. I cleared my throat, but it still felt rough.

“I’m so happy, it’s hard to put into words. I love what we’ve built. I love Ambra, I love us, I love you so much.” I closed my eyes because these fucking words didn’t come out right, not how I wanted them, not nearly as impactful as what Sara had said. “You are the strongest woman I know. You deserve the world. You deserve happiness and joy. I’ll spend the rest of my life working tirelessly to make sure you and Ambra are happy and safe. I’ll try to show you my love with actions every day and try to voice it too. I never want you to feel unappreciated or unloved for a single moment in your life.” I swallowed. “And the dark path that we’ve trod? I’d walk it over and over again to be with you, and still, I want nothing more than to erase every moment of pain from your past, especially the pain I caused.”

Sara touched my cheek now too. “I want today to mark not just Ambra’s birth but also the day when we finally let the past be the past and focus on what we have now and our beautiful future ahead.”

I kissed her, pouring all my love into it. “You always say what I can’t say.”

“Your love language is acts of service. I know that.”

I chuckled and kissed her again. Mom too had once told Dad about his love language, and I felt the same confusion today as I had back then. “As long as you understand my love language, we’re good because I love you more than words can express.”

Sara smiled and nodded, tears shining in her eyes. “I understand.” She let out a yawn and gave me a sheepish look. “I’m sorry.”

“No. You need to sleep. You must be exhausted.” She stretched out in the bed with Ambra on her chest in the bonding shirt. It didn’t look comfortable, but Sara seemed to be blissful. And I got it. Holding Ambra in my arms had been wonderful and terrifying. This small baby was now mine to protect. I’d make sure she’d never be touched by the darkness that had harmed so many Famiglia women in the past.

Sara fell asleep right away, and after a few minutes, I snuck out and went downstairs. Mom and Dad, who had returned from his appointment in the city with Primo, sat around the table. He got up and hugged me. “Congrats, Maximus. I’m so proud of you. Your mom told me what happened.”

“I didn’t do much. Sara did it all.”

Dad shrugged as if that was to be expected. “Women always do.” He gave Mom a look that made her smile.

“Sara and Ambra are asleep. You can see them in the morning,” I told Dad.

“I can be patient,” Dad rumbled.

“Just not with your recovery,” Mom said with an air of disapproval. Since Dad’s surgery, he went into the city for rehab three times a week, and he went to the gym to build more muscle in the rest of his body every day. He had learned to walk with his futuristic prosthesis in no time too, but he was annoyed that he hadn’t managed to get rid of the limp yet. Due to the still healing wounds, he couldn’t constantly wear his prosthesis.

Dad grumbled something under his breath. Primo came in wet and dirty.

I raised my eyebrows. That was how I had looked before I’d changed clothes, only with more blood.

“One of the new dogs jumped me from behind, and I did a face-plant.” He gave me a broad smile and pulled me into a hug that got me dirty. “Congrats, big brother. I can’t believe you’re a dad now.”

I couldn’t really wrap my head around it yet either. Mom warmed up some soup while I checked the messages on my phone. Word had gotten out that Ambra was born, and people sent congratulations. Amo and Greta’s message especially meant a lot because I knew how much they struggled with their fate.

“I’ll take a short walk to the oak tree. If Sara needs me, can you come get me?” I asked Primo.

He gave a nod and settled on the couch in front of the TV. “I’ll have to leave in the morning. Because you and Dad can’t do the shift, I have to work more, remember?”

“It’s not like you have other plans,” I said with a wink.

Dad grimaced. “I would work more, but Luca insists I fully recover before I return to my old schedule.”

I left with a chuckle. Once outside in the crisp evening air, I buttoned the jacket I’d borrowed from Dad since my own was ruined and walked into the woods. My heartbeat quickened when I arrived at the oak tree, but it was nothing compared to the crazy pounding when Sara had gone into labor.

I squatted down before the cross that I’d carved in one of the darkest hours of my life. If someone had told me back then that I would find happiness and love, I wouldn’t have believed them, especially not if they’d told me that I’d find both with Sara. I was glad I hadn’t given up, that I’d accepted the struggle and made a promise to redeem myself. In the past, I’d often tortured myself with questions of what-if, but today, I made the promise to stop my mind from going down this spiral of hypothesis. It led nowhere except for madness.

Things were good, fuck, better than good as they were now. I had everything and more than I’d ever wanted. I still wasn’t sure I deserved any of it, but I’d work hard to be deserving of it one day.

The drive back to our apartment was uncomfortable, and Ambra cried half the time, so we repeatedly had to stop. Still, I was glad when I sank down on our sofa with our baby girl. Cara and Growl had taken great care of us, but I wanted to be in our own home, and I was eager for my parents and siblings to finally meet our daughter. Until then, Maximus, Ambra, and I snuggled together on the sofa.

My family visited in the afternoon, and the moment Mom spotted Ambra, she burst into tears, which led to more tears from me, and soon from Inessa and Alea.

I could see Maximus, Flavio, and Dad exchange looks of confusion and had to laugh.

“Tears of happiness never made sense to me,” Flavio said with a shrug as he came up to me and gave me a one-armed hug so as not to hurt Ambra.

“She looks squishy.”

“She’s the most beautiful baby in the world,” Mom contradicted. Dad came over and hugged me too. He didn’t cry, of course not, but I could see that he was touched by the sight. “My little girl’s now a mom. I can’t believe it.”

To be honest, sometimes I caught myself thinking the same. Maximus’s proud and adoring expression whenever he looked at Ambra was almost the best part of becoming a mother.

“Next time, you should stay close to a hospital on your due date,” Dad said with a laugh.

“Who knew it would go this fast?” I said with a shrug. The movement made Ambra stir and open her eyes, then she did her little newborn scrunch. Dad and Flavio pretended to grab something to drink when I helped Ambra latch on and only returned when I was done breastfeeding her.

“Mom, do you want to hold her?”

Mom nodded with wide eyes and carefully took Ambra from me. “She’s the cutest. These chubby cheeks almost make me want another one.”

Dad’s expression made us all burst out laughing.

“Almost,” Mom said and rolled her eyes. “I like the number four.”

“How many do you want?” Inessa asked me, nosy as always.

“Maybe four.”

“I thought a Trevisan trio was what we were going for?” Maximus exchanged an amused look with Dad, who shrugged.

“Cancio women get what they want.”

I smiled, content in the knowledge that Maximus wouldn’t mind four.

The next day, Isabella came over for a visit, which made me particularly happy since I worried that friendships would be harder to maintain now that I was a mom, especially since my friends didn’t have kids yet.

“And people call me dramatic,” Isa said with a smile as she entered our apartment. “But I would never give birth in a forest.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t plan for that to happen.”

“Well, it will be a story that’ll make the rounds.”

“Not the first time I get caught in the rumor mill,” I muttered. But I didn’t feel bitter anymore. Right at this moment, I saw things from a new perspective and my priorities had shifted.

Isa bent over Ambra and stroked her dark hair with a finger. “She’s really cute. Almost makes me want to have one of my own.” At my shocked expression, she added, “One day in the distant future.”

“Is there someone who might become the father?” I asked, not even trying not to be nosy. Maximus had gone into the kitchen to give Isa and me some time to talk. Her bodyguards waited in the hallway. There was nobody to overhear us, and Maximus wouldn’t care anyway.

Isa wasn’t promised, and she’d never shown any obvious interest in anyone. For a while, I’d been convinced that she was into girls, but she insisted that wasn’t the case. She was always very close-lipped when the topic came up.

Isa let out a sarcastic laugh. “Not even close. Maybe I’ll just rock the single mom gig. I’ll use a sperm donor, so Dad won’t have reason to kill anyone.”

“That would give you the prime spot in the rumor mill.”

“It’s what people expect from me, considering who’s my mom. So why should I disappoint them?”

“Do what makes you happy.”

She blew out a breath. “Happiness is overrated.”

Ambra let out a little mewl and smacked her lips, a clear sign. I pulled down my shirt, and she latched on.

“I’d never thought I’d see your boob, so maybe I should be willing to expect the unexpected. You never know.”

I giggled. If that was true for anyone, it was true for Isa.

I was familiar with sleepless nights. In my life before Sara because of parties or work, in the beginning of my life with Sara because of nightmares, hers and mine, and now?

A tiny human who ruled over our life with a minuscule iron fist.

I rocked Ambra in my arms so Sara could catch a few hours of sleep after having breastfed Ambra. Our little girl didn’t take a pacifier or the bottle, so most of the work rested on Sara, but I tried to give her small moments of rest like this. I loved holding Ambra in my arms, even if her crying tore at me, but now she was asleep against my chest, making small smacking sounds.

Bacon gave me a reproachful look from his dog bed in the living room because I’d woken him at three a.m.

“Sorry, bud. I’d rather be sleeping too.” Bacon had lived with us since he’d saved Sara from the Russian attackers. They had formed a special bond, so even though he wasn’t a city dog, he spent most of the time with us.

I had started looking for houses to buy. I wanted Ambra to have a yard to play, but the options were limited in our neighborhood.

I hummed a tune my mother had often sung for Primo and me as kids. I didn’t even remember the lyrics, just the soothing melody.

I didn’t notice Sara in the doorway until she began to sing softly. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star…”

Now I remembered the lyrics, but I still didn’t sing along.

Sara came toward me slowly.

“You should sleep.”

She shrugged as she stopped beside me and gazed lovingly from Ambra to me. “I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. It’s time for her next meal. My body can feel it.”

Outside, the sound of sirens made Bacon perk up. There was always a siren somewhere, and it made him nervous.

“I have been thinking…why don’t we build a house somewhere on your parents’ land? There’s enough room.”

Surprise filled me. “But what about your family? You’ll be farther away from them.” I knew how important her family was to Sara, and since giving birth, Liliana had helped Sara on a daily basis.

“Only forty minutes tops. You and Ambra are now my main focus, and it’s best for us as a family to move out of the city. Bacon will be happier there too. I won’t need as much support once Ambra is a bit older.”

“But I want you to be happy, Sara.”

“I’m happy wherever you and Ambra are.”

My heart sped up. I pressed a kiss to Sara’s lips. Ambra opened her eyes and parted her lips as if she could smell milk. Sara laughed and took her from me. I followed them into the bedroom and watched Sara feed our daughter.

I decided these moments beat the sleepless nights from my single life by far.

I was in the gym of our apartment, doing crunches on a mat on the floor when Sara came in.

“She’s down for her nap,” Sara said with a victorious smile. Now that Ambra was two months old, she slept better. Still not well, but better.

“And now you want to do some pottery?” I asked. I knew Sara missed doing pottery. She missed doing many things, like taking a shower or going to the toilet without Ambra crying.

She bit her lip, her eyes moving from the pottery wheel back to me, and the look in her eyes immediately let blood flow into my cock.

“Oh,” I rumbled. “Here for something else?”

“It’s been a while,” she said with a sheepish smile. We hadn’t had sex since Sara had given birth. The last time had been right before her due date because it was supposed to induce labor.

“I’m all yours,” I said, spreading my arms. “But I’m sweaty. Do you want me to shower first?”

Sara gave me a look. “We don’t know how much time we have.”

I grinned. “We could take a shower together and have fun there.”

Sara bit her lip, her eyes lighting up. We’d never had sex in the shower before, something we needed to rectify quickly. I pushed to my feet and took her hand. Sara wore lavender-colored pajama pants and a satin camisole, her usual clothing since Ambra was there. Not that I minded. Sara was gorgeous, no matter what she wore.

We snuck past Amber’s crib into the primary bedroom and closed the door. Sara put the baby phone on the windowsill, then turned to me. I pulled her in for a kiss, my hands gliding under her camisole, fingertips mapping her soft skin and the hardened nubs of her breasts. I briefly broke our kiss to tug the camisole over Sara’s head and toss it away, then my fingers gripped the waistband of her pants and tugged them down. They glided to the floor with a soft rustling, leaving Sara standing naked before me.

I shook my head, amazed by her beauty. She touched her belly self-consciously, where she now had a few stretch marks. I got down on one knee, moved her hand away, and kissed the spot. “The most impressive battle scars I’ve ever seen.”

Sara gave me a grateful smile, then tugged at my arms. I complied and got up. She shoved down my training shorts. “Time’s running out.”

“You’re lucky I thrive under pressure,” I rumbled in her ear as I backed her into the shower cubicle. Sara let out a little screech when cold water rained down on us before it turned warm, then clapped a hand over her mouth and cast a nervous glance at the baby monitor, but Ambra slept soundly. She lowered her hand, and I immediately kissed her again, pulling her closer and allowing my palm to caress the curve of her waist and hip before I moved inward and cupped her pussy. She pressed into me, her kiss becoming almost desperate.

I was relieved to see that I wasn’t the only one who missed this. I stroked her clit lightly, and Sara moaned into my mouth, then grabbed my cock and squeezed. I groaned, my fingers speeding up, circling her nub before I moved them lower and pushed two into her. She arched against me, her grip on my cock becoming even more demanding. I grinned against her lip as I slid my fingers in and out slowly, making sure to touch her clit. Sara came within a minute, but her lips seeking mine eagerly told me she was far from satisfied.

“I need you so much,” I growled, cupping her ass and pulling her against me so my cock dug into her belly.

Sara only nodded and gripped my shoulders. I lifted her by her ass, and her legs wrapped around my waist. Not wasting any more time, I sank into her slowly, giving her time to accommodate my length, then halted when I was all the way in her. I leaned her back against the shower stall so the water didn’t hit her in the face. She breathed deeply against my mouth, her eyes filled with the same hunger I felt burning in my veins.

“You ready for more?” I asked in a low voice.

“So ready.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled herself higher, changing the angle in a delicious way. My lips claimed hers as I supported her weight against the wall and began to thrust into her.

Sara kept her eyes on me as I made love to her. She shifted her hips in sync with my thrust, allowing me to go even deeper and her clit to rub against my pubic bone. Soon, her eyes widened, and her nails sank into my shoulder as her walls clamped down on my cock.

I groaned, unable to hold back as Sara’s core milked my cock with her iron grip. She came with a muffled scream against my shoulder. My cock kept twitching inside her as we clung to each other. I didn’t put her down even when we were both spent from our orgasm. I enjoyed feeling her naked body against mine. She rested her cheek on my shoulder and let out a yawn. “Now all I need for utter contentment is more than two hours of sleep.”

I chuckled. “I wish I could help you with that, but Ambra simply wants your breasts, which is understandable.”

Sara giggled. “Once she’s a bit older, she won’t feed as often, and then you can spend more time with her.”

I set Sara down. “I can’t wait.”

It was wonderful to watch Sara being a mother because it was obvious how much she loved being one, but I was excited about getting more opportunities to spend time with Ambra once she wasn’t as fixated on Sara’s breasts. I glanced down at Sara’s impressive chest. I’d always loved her breasts, but they had grown quite a bit since she’d given birth.

Sara followed my gaze and rolled her eyes. She lightly slapped my chest. “Don’t tell me you prefer me with bigger breasts.” She turned on the water and quickly washed herself. The sight was mesmerizing.

“I loved your body before your pregnancy, during your pregnancy, and now that you’re feeding our daughter, and I’ll love it however it looks after.”

Sara stepped on her tiptoes and kissed me firmly. “That might be one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said. See, acts of service isn’t your only love language.”

Ambra let out a cry.

I raised my eyebrows. “I fear hers definitely is.”

Sara gave me a distracted smile and a swift peck before quickly drying off and rushing into the bedroom. After I’d cleaned up and dried myself, I followed her. Sara lay on her side, feeding Ambra. She was already asleep while Ambra was still nursing. The bed guard kept Ambra safe as she slept by Sara’s side. I watched her little content face for a moment, then pressed a soft kiss against Sara’s temple before I extinguished the lights.

The same contentment I’d seen on Ambra’s face filled my body.

Dad chased a giggling Ambra across the meadow behind our house. We had built it a few months ago and finally moved in two weeks ago. We could walk to my parents’ house, simply by following the pathway through the woods past the old oak. Sara wanted Ambra to grow up outside of the city, even if she hated being farther away from her family.

Because Sara loved the maritime vibe in the Hamptons but not the actual neighborhood, we’d chosen a blue-and-white exterior with big panoramic windows and a hammock on the porch. If you listened closely, you could sometimes hear the nearby stream, which was almost as good as the sound of waves in my book. And the view at the meadow and forest from the windows was perfect.

Dad roared like a dinosaur, which made Ambra screech and giggle as she stumbled along. Her brown curls bobbed wildly around her face, and her amber eyes flashed with happiness. Bacon frolicked beside them, excited to be in on the mayhem.

“After the surgery, I had a moment of worry that your father wouldn’t be able to handle the new situation, but I should have known he was too strong and stubborn to let a missing limb stop him.”

I smirked. Dad had worked hard to get used to his prosthesis, and for people who didn’t know, it was almost impossible to guess he was missing a limb below his knee. He eventually caught Ambra and let himself fall on the ground with her on top of him. I remembered Dad playing wildly with us when Primo and I were little. But with Ambra, he’d been showing a softer side that probably only Mom knew.

His jeans leg pulled up slightly, revealing the futuristic-looking prosthesis. Ambra was fascinated as always. “Show me more!”

He revealed the rest of the prosthesis.

“Part human, part machine!” Primo shouted, causing Ambra to giggle again. She had a fascination with robots, probably exactly for that reason.

Sara came out of the house with a tray holding homemade lemonade and cookies. I rushed over to her, alarmed, and took the tray from her. “You aren’t supposed to lift anything heavy.”

She rolled her eyes and caressed her round belly. “We’re fine. Everything is perfectly all right, and my doc said it’s even fine to carry Ambra. Trust me, she weighs more than that tray.”

I ignored her comment and carried the tray down to the table under the pergola. Sara was much more relaxed this pregnancy. Everything had gone without a hiccup so far. As if to prove Sara’s point, Ambra rushed over to her the moment she spotted her and raised her arms. Sara lifted Ambra on her hip. The sight of Sara, heavily pregnant, carrying our daughter left my heart full in a way I had never thought possible.

A honk announced the arrival of a car. Romero waved out of the window of his Alfa Romeo. Behind him, Flavio pulled up in Romero’s Jeep. “Couldn’t fit into the Alfa?” I shouted, amused.

The back door opened, and Inessa climbed out, blowing out a breath. “Alea and I hardly fit in there. It’s tiny!”

“It’s vintage,” Romero said firmly as he got out. Liliana laughed as she appeared on the passenger side.

“So vintage that I had to ride the Jeep instead of my sportscar in case the old thing breaks down, and I’ll have to give them a ride.”

Romero shook his head. “Where did I go wrong? I thought you’d appreciate vintage cars?”

Flavio gave me a look, and I chuckled.

Ambra pointed at her grandparents. “Dad, there!” I took her from Sara and carried her over to her grandparents.

“You have legs, you know?” I told her with a smile. I didn’t mind carrying her. I’d definitely miss it the moment she was too old to be carried by me.

“I’m too exhausted. Papa Ryan chased me.”

I chuckled again. “You poor thing.” I kissed her temple before I handed her over to Romero, who smiled brightly. “Do you want to sit in my car?”

She beamed and nodded, causing him to smile proudly. Liliana kissed Ambra’s cheek before she headed over to Sara and hugged her, then touched her belly. “Not long now, I can tell.”

“Not today. We got steaks from the best butcher in New York, and I intend to eat one,” Flavio said.

Liliana sent him a scathing look, and Inessa tossed one of her sandals that she’d slipped off at him. He dodged it barely.

“I’m not giving birth today,” Sara said with conviction. Liliana’s face told me she wasn’t so sure. “And if I’m wrong and go into labor, you can just finish your steak. It’ll probably take some time, and I can’t eat rare meat anyway.”

I touched her shoulder. “I told you we don’t have to eat steak.”

“It’s okay. We have so many sides. I won’t go hungry.”

“I’ll cook one steak well done for you,” Dad rumbled.

I gave him a surprised look.

“What happened with ‘well done is an insult to the cow. She died once, let her death be worth it’?” Primo asked after he’d clapped hands with Flavio.

Mom’s death glare caused him to shrug.

Two hours later, we all settled around the table with steaks on our plates. Even Sara had a piece of well-done meat in front of her. Dad watched her closely as she took a bite.

“It’s good,” she said, surprised.

He nodded with a hint of pride in his eyes. Bacon gave me puppy dog eyes from his spot by my feet. “Sorry, bud.”

He’d never begged for food until Ambra had started solids and discovered the perks of feeding Bacon. It was why he wasn’t allowed to go to her high chair, even if Ambra tried to attract him with a piece of sausage.

We ate in silence for a while, simply savoring the delicious food, when Sara made a small sound, a mix of a groan and a sigh.

I glanced her way. She held her belly, her face tight.

“Labor?” Liliana asked with a knowing smile.

Sara rolled her eyes. “Why are you always right with this?”

“Motherly instinct?”

“At least you waited until I’m almost done,” Flavio said.

“I’m not usually a stabby person, but you risk a lot right now,” Sara said, her hand around her steak knife chalk white from the grip. “I think I’ll just walk the pain away.”

I grabbed her hand. “Not again. I can’t handle a repeat performance.”

Sara gave me an amused look.

“Seriously, honey, not again. Have some pity.”

Sara released a sigh. “All right, then let’s go to the hospital.”

“Thank you,” I said, relieved.

“I’ll grab your hospital bag,” Liliana said as I led Sara to my truck.

Thirty minutes later, I stared at Sara, holding our newborn daughter, Alessia, in her arms on the passenger seat of my truck. We were parked on the side of the road with Romero’s car right behind us.

I stood behind Liliana, who knelt in the open passenger door and helped clean up our daughter while Romero was talking to the doc on the phone.

“See, a walk to the old oak tree wouldn’t have been a bad idea,” Sara said with an exhausted but teasing smile.

I shook my head. Liliana moved away so I could take her place and cut through the umbilical cord. “I don’t know how you can find humor in this.” I cut through the cord and put my hand on Alessia’s small back.

“Next time, we just follow my intuition,” Sara said.

I nodded simply. “I just wanted to make sure you and our daughter were safe.”

Sara stroked over Alessia’s dark head. “We are, but you can’t control everything. Isn’t that the beauty of life?”

“You showed me the beauty of life and taught me how to relinquish control, but I don’t think the two are connected.”

My life had taken a completely different turn than I would have thought, and if anyone would have told me five years ago that today I’d be married to Sara and have two wonderful daughters, I would have laughed in their faces. Becoming a young father, being married to the woman who’d lived through the darkest moment of my life, and most importantly, being happy together and with the life we’d built seemed like a daydream. Sara and my mother would probably blame it on fate. I preferred to give credit to the hard work Sara and I had put into our marriage and our resilience. Not that it mattered.

What mattered was that we’d found love and happiness despite the tragedy that had started everything.

Please consider leaving a review. Readers like you help other readers discover new books!

If you want to find out Growl’s & Cara’s unusual love story, you should read Bound By Vengeance!

For Amo’s and Greta’s dramatic love story, check out By Fate I Conquer!

Liliana’s and Romero’s forbidden love story, can be found in Bound By Temptation!

This book deals with dark subject matter as pregnancy loss, death, torture, sexual abuse.

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Cora is the USA Today Bestselling author of the Born in Blood Mafia Series, the Camorra Chronicles and many other books, most of them featuring dangerously sexy bad boys. She likes her men like her martinis—dirty and strong.

Cora lives in Germany with her young daughter and son, a cute but crazy Bearded Collie, as well as the cute but crazy man at her side. When she doesn’t spend her days dreaming up sexy books, she plans her next travel adventure or cooks too spicy dishes from all over the world.