Chapter Twenty-One

Ismell something delightful as I walk into the beach house, and I'm glad that Grazia has kept her promise of cooking me something.

There is nothing quite like a good home-cooked meal.

Soft music is playing, and I find Grazia dancing from the fridge to the stove and back again, a glass of wine in one hand and a spoon in the other.

She sees me come in and offers me my own glass of wine, which I take with a laugh.

"What are you making?" I ask her.

She looks so relaxed in this kitchen now. The shopping and having a little bit of freedom must have been good for her.

"It's an old family recipe," she says, her cheeks red, either from the wine or the heat in the kitchen.

I watch her cook, and we chat about pointless things, like growing tomatoes and surfing. Seeing her work with the food is amazing.

I watch her create a perfectly cooked spaghetti before sautéing the noodles in a delightful mix of garlic and olive oil.

The kitchen fills with a fragrant melody of scents as she works her magic. In a sizzling pan, she combines sun-dried tomatoes and briny Kalamata olives, creating a delightful blend of sweet and savory flavors.

The real stars, though, were the plump cherry tomatoes simmering in a rich red sauce infused with fresh basil, oregano, and a hint of red pepper flakes.

Grazia"s touch turned the dish into a symphony of Mediterranean flavors.

To finish, she generously grates Parmesan over the pasta, its sharp notes blending seamlessly with the sauce.

A drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil added a touch of luxury, making every bite a celebration of taste.

We sit down in the dining room to eat. Having dinner with Grazia has become a way to connect with her on a more human level.

The conversation continues while we eat, although we eventually move on to more personal questions, and talking about our childhoods.

Grazia has so many stories about herself and her brothers playing in their family home and causing chaos for their grandmother.

I can tell as she's speaking that talking about her brothers hurts.

When we're finished eating, I take her plate from her and take it to the kitchen, placing it in the empty dishwasher.

I should get Jane to come in and clean for Grazia, why haven't I thought of this before?

There's a noise outside the kitchen window as I'm standing there, and I pick up the knife from the counter, walking over to the window and looking out.

"Marco?" Grazia comes into the kitchen and startles me. I lower the knife just slightly and turn to look at her.

"I heard a noise." She laughs, which makes me frown at her. "What's funny?" I ask her.

"Sorry." She stops laughing, but her smile is still big and bright. "It's nothing. You just looked so serious. Don't mind me, I blame the wine."

I walk towards her as she sways slightly and giggles. "Are you drunk?"

"No…" Her voice is higher pitched than usual and she's smiling more. "Oh, I almost forgot."

She reaches behind me and picks up a piece of paper. "I wrote you a letter. But don't read it in front me."

I take the paper from her and put it in my pocket, pulling her chin up with my finger and kissing her.

She tastes like pasta and wine, and the heat of her body against mine makes me pull her in close.

Grazia clings to my body, licking my neck and sticking her hands down my pants.

She's definitely intoxicated, but only enough to release any inhibitions she's had before.

I let her lead this time as she undresses me in the kitchen, kissing my body as she removes each piece of clothing, before she takes my hand and we go into the bedroom.

Grazia pushes me onto the bed, and I watch while she gives me a strip tease.

Her carefree laugh is intoxicating me more than the wine at this moment. Once she's undressed, she climbs on top of me, and I lay back, allowing her to ride me as hard and fast as she needs to.

There is no time and no need tonight for pleasantries. We're both horny and ready to go.

I can already feel Grazia dripping wet while I'm inside her, and my cock is as hard as it's going to get.

Caressing a breast in each hand, I look up at her and admire the sultry look that she has in her eyes tonight.

She stays on top, rocking with my cock deep inside her until she's breathing loud and fast. "Ahh… I'm cummmming!"

I let her dig her nails into my chest as I watch her body shake with pleasure.

Once she's lying still on my chest, I gently nudge her and move her so that she's on her stomach.

I place a pillow under her hips, stand up next to the bed, and enter her from behind. She moans again.

I thrust into her, using a steady rhythm and holding her hips up against my pelvis. I'm harder this time, pushing right into her, exiting, and then pushing fast and hard again.

The feeling of her warm wetness around my cock is the only sensation I need to cum as well, almost as loudly as Grazia did.

We both lay down and I hold Grazia, brushing her hair with my fingers and stroking her bare arms while she falls asleep.

I let Grazia sleep while I read over her letter, using only the light coming in the windows from the moon.

I'm surprised at her words, but only because she was so honest and so raw, which is not something I've seen from her while she's been here.

I can tell that on paper, she felt brave enough to say the things she needed to say.

I want to wake her up and talk to her about all of this. I've felt exactly what she's talking about, but I just didn't think that she was feeling the same way.

Knowing how she feels makes me hopeful that perhaps this deal isn't all lost. If Grazia and I can figure our shit out, then maybe meeting her is enough to make this ordeal worth all of the trouble.

But I know that before I do anything serious with Grazia, I need to make sure I have a way to bring money in.

There is no more Carlos, so it's all me.

If none of my plans work, then I have to go back to working for someone else, and that will take all of my time, leaving no space for Grazia in my calendar anyway.

This is why I've stayed single for so long, and why I am so eager now to break free and work for myself.

I need to figure out exactly what I'm going to do about this, so that I can put my focus into Grazia.

Looking at her again, I'm reminded why she deserves this so much.

Her compassion and strength have shown through during the worst of times, and I hope that I can bring out the best in me in the future.

It will take some time for me to work through the guilt of having captured her and held her hostage.

Her letter seems to tell me that she forgives me, though, which leaves me with some hope for our future.

I leave her in bed and head to my other home, ready to put pen to paper and plan out my next steps.

Seated at my desk, the soft clicking of my fingers dancing across the keys is like a musical rhythm paired with the hum of the computer.

I can't focus on anything else right now, needing to lay out my next moves so that I don't allow the Baldinis too much time to get ahead of me.

The original plan now lies in ruins thanks to Luca"s blunder, but there's still a general idea that I can work with, even if it means I cut the Baldinis out of my considerations completely.

After going over the details, I realize that the setback demands more than just a revision; it requires a complete overhaul.

I run my hands through my hair and pace the room, thinking, planning, and running through scenarios. Then I pick up my phone and dial a few numbers.

Conversation with my contacts bring me slightly closer to an answer. Each exchange gives me new hope that I will be able to outmaneuver the Baldinis.

The blue glow of the computer screen casts an ethereal light on my office. Shadows dance across the walls as the night stretches into the early hours, surprising me with how quickly time has passed.

I've been so engrossed in this plan that I haven't checked the time, or how fast it is flying by.

But I can't stop now. I examine every detail, every conceivable scenario, with meticulous precision, tapping my fingers on my desk as I reread my notes.

The weight of responsibility settles on my shoulders as I consider the risks and rewards, and the chess pieces on the board that need to be moved with utmost precision.

The Baldinis have a history rooted in power and control, but they won"t anticipate this audacious move.

The stakes are high, but the night grants me the clarity to see beyond the immediate chaos and envision a path that leads to triumph.

Dawn comes to wake me from my slumped-over position on my desk. It's not the best sleep I've ever gotten, but I'm excited about my new plan.

The first thing I can think to do is go back to the beach house.

I need to speak to Grazia about her letter, tell her about my new plan, and see what this means for us.

Returning to the house a few hours later, I find Grazia awake already.

The lines of exhaustion on her face show that she hasn't gotten enough sleep, but I need to share what I've been working on.

"I"ve reworked the plan. Completely. I can still get the trade routes, without using you or dealing with your brothers. It"s riskier, but our best shot at breaking free. I want you to have the freedom you're craving, and the choice to stay or leave here. You deserve a life beyond this chaos," I tell her, looking for any reaction from her.

She looks at me, a mix of apprehension and trust in her gaze.

Her silence tells me to keep talking. "I need you to know," I continue, my tone softer, "I read your letter, mi chica. And I feel a connection too, but right now, my focus has to be on handling business. Once this is over, we can figure out what comes next. I want you safe, first."