Chapter 5

CLEO

I t was him.

It had always been him.

In the shadows and folds of my life.

Since his power-driven arms had wrapped around me that fateful night in Naples, I’d felt his presence with me, haunting me.

Those golden, unyielding, blazing eyes, that dark blonde mane, and his leonine gruff aura had remained on the periphery of my senses, just out of reach.

In some moments, I’d sensed him in the street or about a corner, those flaming eyes on me.

I’d thought it a figment of my imagination, but then again, he’d appeared so real.

But never had I come so close to his fullness and manhood.

For he was all man.

6’2, hard, muscled, lean, and angular, with thick thighs and tapered legs.

My eyes flickered over his shoulder-length, salon-styled dark gold, lustrous hair highlighted in amber and copper, groomed mustache and beard, and the bulk of muscle he carried.

Freakin’ like the devil himself in a snug inky tee, black jeans, and feet in high-spec hiking boots.

But those eyes made my breath hitch, recalling them from so long ago.

They were the color of fire, flames, and incandescent cinders, burning through, scorching me.

When our gazes had met that fateful night in Naples all those years past, I’d been hit with a jolt throughout my body by the heated blaze radiating from his intense stare.

Damn him and his freakin’ flaming eyes, which up close sent the fear of Dio through me.

They were now shut, but I still re-imagined their intensity and shivered.

I kept peeking at his supine form in the backseat of his high-spec 4X4.

Given the quality of the armament in his vehicle, his gear, his rugged fighting style, and his knowledge of weapons, he was a badass.

I wagered he gave zero fucks most days, a fuckin’ monster when he wanted to be.

I recalled his threat to Nonna if I didn’t do as he said, and a shiver of panic went through me.

It was clear he was ruthless and a freakin’ inconvenience appearing now in the weeks leading up to my ultimate revenge.

For years, I waited, planned, and trained for the moment when my monster would return to claim me.

I had vowed vengeance when he did. I had learned hate. I had sworn to destroy the evil soul who’d ruined my life and go down in flames with him.

After all this time, why had the man behind me shown up when I was on the verge of enacting my plans?

Why, when I’d sensed his far-off presence in my life, had he chosen to step out of the shadows now?

I’d had eyes on his ride early this morning when I spotted the dust from his fancy wheels roar up the gully.

I’d considered leaving him in the hands of fortune when I’d spotted the pitiful Caputo cunt capos hunting him down.

I hadn’t heard the nature of their discussion being so far downwind, only that they were on my side of the fence line, and I’d needed them fuckin’ gone.

Their Contis and, recently, the Caputos have terrorized me for years, trying to wear me down.

They were always pushing the boundary lines and bullying me along with the farmers that bordered mine to handing over our land to them for their hemp fields.

It was all taking its toll, and I was at the end of my rope. I had just enough in me to take out my monster, anything more, and I’d implode.

The man in the backseat was the icing on my nightmare cake.

For a moment, I contemplated stopping the car and rolling him down a steep gully, never to be seen again.

Except he’d unveiled Nonna Guilia’s name and that his minions had her in their sight. If anything ever happened to her, I’d never live with myself.

So I shelved my murderous thoughts and drove on, hands shaking with rage, until I pulled up to an armed gate.

It led to my daydream-perfect, 100-acre, off-grid, cozy, and self-sustaining acreage nestled at the crook of a mountain valley.

I unlocked the secure barrier, steered the car into my property, and turned back to lock up again.

I headed for the side lean to, unbolting that too to ease the vehicle inside, out of view.

After pulling the roller door down, summing up all my strength, I nudged the man awake.

His leonine eyes opened, dilated, and then refocused in seconds. They locked on me as he let me maneuver him out of the car.

Half-dragging his heavy frame through the connecting doorway into my primary shed, I brought him into my one-bedroom, corrugated iron home.

It featured a decent-sized singular kitchen, small bath, study nook, and a native-timber veranda overlooking a sandstone escarpment plus thousands of trees across the valley. Beyond the treelike were open fields where my windmills stood like silent guardians against the skyline.

I laid him on the only bed, mine, and rolled him into one end.

He blacked out once more, eyes rolling to the back of his head, lids shutting down.

I tucked a towel under his injured joint, which I’d treated with a clean compress from his car’s emergency kit at the site of origin.

I shucked his boots and turned to my first aid supplies, using them to sanitize and sew up his wound. It was a pure through and through the upper shoulder, he’d live .

It also wasn’t bleeding, so I wrapped, looped, and pinned a compression bandage on top of the wounded deltoid.

He remained knocked out right through it.

As a precaution, I ran my hands over him, checking for any other injuries. That’s when I found the generous bump at the back of his head.

He must have hit something when he fell after being gunned down.

There was no broken skin, thank fuck, so I positioned a dressing on it to cushion it and jammed a painkiller injection into his thigh.

He didn’t react, not even a grunt, still out cold.

Tugging off his boots, I adjusted and placed a duvet and blanket over him.

He settled, no, he fuckin’ snuggled in, his free arm flung above his head, socked feet splayed on my hella clean sheets.

His tresses spread on my pillow, and I fought the urge to run my fingers through them.

His tee slid out of his jeans, showing off his designer underwear and, peeking from it, dark golden hair coiling toward his groin.

Damn, I had to admit he was freakin’ hot—a dreamy thirst trap.

My clit pulsed in a stir that I’d not been detected in years.

Fuck me.

I cursed under my breath.

I could not afford any Stockholm Syndrome shit.

Besides, it’d be a fantasy to think he’d ever want me.

Life had taught me I was not important enough to be wanted by anyone.

I’d never been anything but a play-toy to men and to those who wielded power over me.

Love, sex, and passion were not mine to have.

The only tendril of life I held onto was the revenge I intended on the man who’d stripped away any chance at everyday life.

This new conundrum in my bed was only a distraction I had to eliminate: body, soul, and mind.

ALESSIO

I jolted awake, my breath catching in my throat.

With a groan, I attempted to sit up but was cut down by a rush of agony emanating from my shoulder.

I fell back, heaving with pain, almost to the point of throwing up.

I closed my eyes and took deep breaths until the discomfort subsided.

Only then did I allow myself to open them once more.

Where was I?

My eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room.

A cabin.

The queen bed I lay in was covered in quilts and throws.

Side tables, lamps, and wardrobes against timber siding.

As the initial disorientation waned, I took in more details: the dresser standing sentinel by the door, the soft glow of embers in a fireplace in the living room in my line of sight .

A sheer white curtain fluttered in a night breeze that carried the scent of pine, eucalyptus and earth into the room.

The wooden beams overhead creaked, a lullaby sung by the cabin’s sturdy frame.

I pushed myself to a propping position on the headboard, the rough-hewn logs of the wall to my back.

The room was nothing like my New York loft’s sleek lines and glass surfaces.

I inhaled, the fragrance of cedar filling my lungs, grounding me in this reality far removed from the cacophony of yellow cabs and the perpetual twilight of skyscrapers.

At that moment, I sensed a soul hovering close by.

A silhouette sidled into the room, and there she was, her piercing jade eyes fixed on me from the shadows.

Cleo.

Dark brown, wispy hair in a pixie cut, small heart-shaped face, eyes so green they appeared to glow in the darkness.

Her gaze remained locked on me as myriad scents assaulted my senses - a perfect fusion of pistachio, almond, vanilla, and salted caramel, creating a sweet and indulgent aroma.

It was the same blend, so unique it had haunted me for years.

It had invaded my dreams and plagued my waking hours, an essence I could conjure at will.

Now, more potent than ever because it was real and right there in front of me.

Summoning all my strength, I forced myself to focus on her as she stared at me with unwavering intensity.

My cock jolted as desire surged through me.

She wore jeans and a tee that hugged her curves and accentuated her lithe frame.

The contours of her body beckoned to be touched and held; her full, sensual lips, now pressed thin, only fueled my arousal further.

‘How are you feeling?’ she asked, her voice melodic yet edged with ‘don’t-fuck-with-me’ steel.

I nodded, still trying to process the whirlwind of events. ‘I’ve been better,’ I rasped, cringing as I tried to sit up.

My hands hurt, and I glanced at them, wincing at the scabs and broken, seeping skin.

Looming over me, her eyes flickered over my injuries. ‘Those Caputo jackasses are in with the Contis, and they all think they’re hot shots. But in truth, they’re nothing but dial-a-dealers and knuckle draggers,’ she snarled. ‘Do I have to worry about them knocking on my door for retribution?’

I arched a brow. ‘Those particular fuckers? No.’

She slow-blinked, catching onto my meaning.

‘We’re good. I’m hoping they’ll disappear in the escarpment for good.’

She took a sharp, hissed inhale.

I attempted to push myself up, but she touched my upper arm, preventing me from moving.

‘Easy,’ she murmured. ‘You’re patched up, but I’ll need more supplies to heal that wound fast.’

Once more, my cock lurched.

Traitor .

I willed a scowl onto my face.

My jaw clenched tight to suppress the surge of desire threatening to overwhelm me.

The temptation to reach for her, slide deep into her, and blow my rocks off tugged at me.

Add to the fact she’d transformed from the waif I’d rescued into the badass woman now before me .

My chest rose and fell as our gazes locked.

I feigned indifference while turmoil churned within me.

‘Your name?’ she uttered.

The sensual vocalization sparked a rush of pure fuckin’ need through me as I drew in a sharp breath to contain myself.

‘Alessio.’

‘The man on that night in Naples, the one who lent his jacket to me.’

I offered the truth without buffering it. ‘Si.’

She pursed her lips. ‘You’ve been watching me all these years.’

It appeared she’d noted the times I’d ghosted into her life, monitoring from afar, making sure she was OK.

To be honest, I’d done more than that.

I’d been her unseen guardian, her fuckin’ fairy godfather.

Apprised of her grandfather’s death, I’d arranged for her and her Nonna to receive an all-paid holiday to Europe, claiming it was from a friend of her father, which was true.

She’d taken it, and I’d flitted into Paris after the pair. Witnessing their pleasure as they wandered the quirky lanes, ate at cafes, explored its museums, and strolled along the Seine, healing from their loss.

As I’d admitted, her Nonna was in my purview, as was her property.

I’d ensured Cleo’s farm won a private equity contract to install windmills on its land, which gave her a steady income.

Per my wishes, Mauri had maintained eyes on her, whether in person or via digital networks, a permanent, discreet watch as promised to her kin.

I’d kept away yet offered protection, which had been her grandfather’s last ask of the Calibrese famiglia: that we extend our wings over her but that she remained unaware.

Until now, when Franco was about to be released from prison, which I suspected would upset the delicate balance of her life.

Or so I’d imagined, for she was nothing close to delicate.

Still, she needed me here till his brand of trouble was gone forever.

‘You’re Alessio Calibrese,’ she stated, revealing she was apprised of my name.

I canted a brow.

‘I went through your wallet,’ she murmured. ‘I’d have been a fool not to. Your ID is a New York State driver’s license.

She crossed her hands over her chest, her tits rising in her tee. I dragged my eyes away from them, cock twitching.

‘What brings you here, this far from home?’ she continued.

‘Woman, like I said, family business.’

‘Like you had on the night we met?’

‘Si.’

She considered my words, pursing her lips. ‘Who sent you that night?’

‘My father. He’d heard Franco Conti was in town.’

‘Who told him?’

I shrugged, hesitant to say more. She caught onto the clench in my jaw and let her line of questioning go.

‘Why are you really here? Why have a man on my grandmother and come after me? I’m of no value to you.’

Oh, but she was, she always had been.’

I glowered at her for a handful of moments before rasping. ‘I know Franco Conti is about to be released from prison and that he’s vowed to come for you after his release.’

She didn’t look surprised, and I knew she’d visited the jailhouse a few times, attempting to uncover his exact discharge date.

Her lip curled in scorn. ‘I’m well aware he’s walking out in a several days or weeks. So you’re here to what? Protect me from him?’

I huffed, then nodded. ‘Something like that.’

‘Why would you be concerned for little old me?’ she shot out, her eyes flashing with bitterness of long-held ire at the man. ‘My problems are not your own.’

But they are bellissima. They always were , I thought, infused with a violent urge to exterminate Franco Conti.

For both our fucking sakes.

‘You’re not here for me,’ she surmised, her jade eyes narrowing on me as she came to an astute conclusion. ‘You’re here to use me as bait to reach him.’

She said it matter-of-fact and with a sadness that caught my attention.

Arching an eyebrow, I narrowed my gaze on her, noting the pulse hammering away at her nape, the one I wanted to run my tongue over.

‘Regardless, Franco Conti will return and rip your life apart. You need me, cara. To prevent that.’

Her chest rose and fell in ratcheting agitation at my cold-as-fuck tone. ‘Why are you so vested in Franco?’

‘He owes my family a debt.’

‘So you’re going to use me to make sure he pays it?’

‘Among other things. But if you hand me to the cops or try and run away, he will come after you. I’m your best insurance against him.’

With lightning speed, I leaned into her and jammed a hand in her hair, pulling her face near .

She winced.

I wasn’t hurting her, but my sheer strength was enough to immobilize her.

Up close, her eyes glittered with pure ire, her mouth parting to curse me. ‘You’re a jerk, just like all of them.’

I ignored her characterization, growling, ‘I’m giving you fair warning, woman, attempt any shit, and I’ll make you regret it,’ I whispered. ‘You have been warned.’

She huffed. ‘Not much I can do with you holding my Nonna hostage.’

‘You’d better believe it,’ I growled. ‘If you run off, I’ll find you wherever you go.’

‘I’ve got that garbage from all the men in my life. Your threat means nothing to me,’ she spat.

Despite her defiance, I tagged her fear of me in her eyes. Hating it, wondering if those jade beauties would ever pulse with wild craving and heat—anything but her twisted rage.

I released her, and she yanked away from me, standing over me, arms crossed, tits heaving.

She sucked her teeth. ‘Regardless, you can’t come after me. Not with that shoulder injury.’

I canted a brow.

‘You also won’t be able to fire any of your fancy weapons at him without my help,’ she said.

Her husky voice sparked: more ratcheting desire mingled with intrigue.

‘Scusa? Your help?’

‘To put it plainly,’ she continued, ‘You saw my action out there. If Franco comes for us, we’ll need to fight side by side, given the small army his sons have amassed at the farm.’

I was surprised by her intimation. ‘Fight with me, cara? ’

She shrugged. ‘I want to end him, personally. You can fight him and his sons, but it has to be my bullet that goes through him.’

I shook my head nonplussed, impressed by her savage moxie on one hand and worried for her on the other.

‘How’ d’you know your fuckin’ way around weapons?’ I growled, hiding my concern with a scowl.

She gazed beyond me at the view out of the window. ‘I’ve had to learn how to protect myself.’

I raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s ice, woman. Badass.’

‘Living next to the Contis, I had to get training. But I’m low on ammo and guns, and your stash will supplement mine well. For when he dares come after me.’

I muttered a few choice words under my breath.

Her facing Franco in a gunfight made me want to break out in hives.

Still, I let my shoulders lift in a nonchalant shrug. ‘I need time to think it over, woman. About me giving my shit to you and about you helping me.’

She shrugged. ‘You’re not quite in a position to negotiate, Calibrese.’

I sucked my teeth, helpless in her bed.

With a jerk of her head, she twisted away from me, hips swaying as another surge of lust shot through me.

At the dim doorway, she turned and caught my gaze again in her emerald allure before she vanished beyond the door.