Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 17451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 87(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 58(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 87(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 58(@300wpm)
I tear off his bloody shirt. Open the first-aid kit. The bleeding has stopped and the bullet seems to have grazed him.
“A flesh wound,” he grunts, nodding. “No big deal.”
“I still need to bandage it.”
He smiles almost softly. “Where did you learn to do this?”
“My Grandma was a nurse,” I tell him. “And an artist. And a traveler.”
“A woman of many talents. I wish I could’ve met her.”
“Me too,” I whisper.
He picks up his phone. I begin cleaning his wound. Alex barks down the phone, “Russians came for me here. Targeted my woman. Call in the troops. Clear the entire village and handle the local cops. This war ends within the goddamn week—then I’m out. My involvement is over. I’ve found a new meaning to my life now. Something more than blood and bullets and bribes.”
He looks at me. Dark eyes glistening with meaning. With hunger. With love.
Once he’s bandaged and his calls are done, I fold my arms. “What are you, Alex?” I demand. Wondering if it will change anything. Knowing it won’t.
“A mob boss,” he grunts. “The East Coast Italian mafia. I’ve spent most of my adult life leading the mob. Trying to make it better one percent at a time. Trying to make it less vicious. Less evil. And I’ve succeeded. That’s why I’m here. I wanted out of the life. But I couldn’t get all the way out. I was half in, still running things from overseas … until you, Bella.”
I swallow. Emotion grips me, making my throat tight.
“One afternoon watching you turn this vineyard into a work of art was enough. I know. In my heart. In my bones. In my goddamned soul—something I didn’t even know I had– until you. You’ve changed me.”
I gently take his face in my hands, feel the light silver stubble against my palm. Tears sting my eyes. A sob makes it difficult to speak.
“I know those men never would’ve targeted you if it wasn’t for me,” he says huskily. “But I’ll never let anything happen to you. Nobody is going to hurt you. To touch you. Dare to disrespect you. Not now and not ever. You’re mine, Bella. Your smile. Your talent. Your optimism. Your curves. Your … everything. And I’m yours.”
He rests his forehead against mine, breathing hard.
“I’m yours,” he repeats. “My past, my present, my future. You belong to me and I belong to you.”
“And you’re leaving this life now?” I ask, my voice catching in my throat.
“Forever. Yes, I don’t need it anymore. I haven’t needed it since you came along. Stay with me, Bella. While I make my calls. While I cut my cords, untie my connections. While I build myself a raft big enough for the both of us. Just—just stay with me.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, Alex. I’ll stay.”
He groans and pulls me against him.
Our lips crash together in a collision of hunger and warmth and belonging.
10
ALEX
Three Days Later
“It’s over,” Matteo says down the phone. “I’ll send you the rest of your cash from your liquidated assets over the coming weeks. But the war’s done, boss.”
“And I’m done,” I say, nodding with satisfaction as I look over the rolling glistening landscape of my vineyard flecked with moonlight.
“Are you sure?”
Beside me, Bella is humming as she works. Dragging her paintbrush over the canvas, biting her lip in concentration. These past three days have been hectic. I’ve spent every second either on the phone or in the village, decimating the Russians.
But now it’s over.
A deal with the Bratva to make them back off in place—finally—a deal they were forced to take because they were losing the war.
I’m tired down to my bones. But also energized. After every day, I came home thinking Bella might’ve left. Lost her nerve. But in the brief moments we’ve been able to spend together, I’ve felt our love. Felt it bloom. Our connection. Deeper than any words or surface-level bonding could ever be.
Our love goes past our skin. Past our lips and our breaths and past our sex, even. It’s fate-sent, destiny-tinged, marked with a purpose no regular couple could ever understand. It’s us, just us, only us.
“Boss?” Matt says.
“I’ve never been more sure about anything,” I tell him, hanging up.
I walk up behind Bella. Gently touch her shoulders. She shivers, letting out a soft moan. She looks at me over her shoulder, hair cascading down her bare back. She’s wearing an open dress. Showing her shoulder blades, her creamy skin.
“What do you think?” she asks.
“Beautiful,” I tell her.
She laughs, flashes a look up at me. “I was talking about the painting … Daddy.”
Fuck.
We haven’t had sex for three days. I tried on the first day, but she said she wanted to wait until this was over. I respected her decision. She deserves respect. Always.
“The painting is incredible,” I tell her honestly. “You’ve made the vineyard look like something out of a dream.”