Chapter 38

38

Karma

Andy crawls onto my chest. He coils between my breasts and tips his head up. He must glare at Michael, who glowers back at him. "You and I need to have a talk, buddy. You don't interrupt when your parents are in the middle of an important discussion."

"Is that what this was?"

He scowls at me over Andy's head, "It was a very important discussion;" His gaze intensifies, "Come home with me, baby."

I swallow.

"I've been lonely without you. Andy has been lonely without you."

"Andy seems fine to me." I arch my eyebrow at him. "You, however," I tilt my hips forward so I push into the bulge between his legs.

Color smears his cheeks. "You still punishing me? Even after everything I said I'd do for you?"

"Not what I expected to hear from you, Don." I rake my gaze across his features, "You are the Don now, aren't you?"

"Only if I can have you by my side. I need your sass, your shrewdness, your ability to think fast on your feet so you pick up anything that I may have missed. I need you, Beauty, only you."

He holds my gaze and in his blue eyes I see…love, lust…and sincerity. An honesty that had been missing before, a vulnerability which I'd never thought that I'd glimpse in my Don's gaze.

"Okay," I blow out a breath, "okay."

***

Two days later, I rub Andy's forehead as I glance out at the sea that stretches out in front of me. Michael had taken me from the park, straight to his private jet. He'd flown me to Palermo, and to a new home that he'd purchased on the island on the opposite side from where his home used to be.

A fresh start, he'd said. A new chapter in our lives. He'd also arranged for a doctor to come and remove the tracker from behind my ear. I had protested and told him that, in retrospect, it actually made me feel safe to know that no matter what happened he'd always be able to find me.

He'd told me that he'd feel better if he had it removed, especially since he wanted us to try for a child right away, and he didn't want anything to interfere with that.

So I had agreed.

Truth is, I want to try to get pregnant straight away, too. Guess this is when I should have come clean to him about the doctor's warning that it could be dangerous for me to get pregnant. On the other hand, the doc had also said that many women carried their babies to term without any problems, despite having a hole in the heart. And I know if I mention it to him, he won't want to take the risk. And honestly, I feel it in my guts that everything will be fine. That things will work out. So, I haven't said anything to him.

Yes, I know, I should be honest with him... But if I were...he'd never agree to my having a baby. He'd never allow me to get pregnant. He'd be willing to go without an heir, and that's something I will not allow.

Besides, I can do this. I can get pregnant and carry the baby to term and nothing will happen to me. I am confident of that.

Meanwhile, he's already set up a full-fledged studio for me in the house, where I can start working on my masterpieces. All, in less than forty-eight hours. The man is relentless when it comes to making sure that all of my needs are taken care of.

And when I had suggested we have the long overdue Christmas party, combined with a New Year's Eve one—he had agreed to it.

I'd also messaged Summer to let her know that I was fine, but that I needed a little more time to figure things out. Summer was initially upset about it. She'd insisted that I return to London or she'd be on the next flight to Sicily and drag me home.

I'd told her not to do that. Begged her to give me a little more time. I'd told her that I am in love with this guy. I'd wanted to tell her that I'd already married the man. Honestly, it had been on the tip of my tongue to tell her, but then I had chickened out. Because I know that she'll be upset to find out that I got married without telling her. And then she'll want to know everything and …

I'm still not ready to share with her all that has happened. No, I want to tell her everything in person. And yes… I am also a little worried about her reaction. She's never going to forgive me for embarking on this adventure on my own, and without keeping her completely in the loop… And I know, the more I put it off, the worse it's going to get…so… Yeah, for the moment, at least, I am okay with her. But at some point, I am going to have to tell her everything. Soon. Just not today.

Footsteps sound behind me. The scent of fresh snow, of darkness, of edgy testosterone, washes over me a second before his arms come around my waist. Andy wriggles in my arms, then digs his claws into my shirt as he attempts to climb up my chest. He peers over my shoulder, growls at my husband. Michael growls right back. Andy stiffens, then hisses at him. He turns his head away, wriggles in my arms, then proceeds to jump out and onto the wall of the terrace.

"That cat is the most fickle creature I have ever met." His dark voice coils in my ear.

I shiver, then turn in the circle of his arms, "He's my cat; of course, his loyalties lie with me. Speaking of," I frown, "did you just growl back at him?"

"He needs to learn that he can't monopolize my wife's attention."

"Are you jealous of a cat, Michael Byron Domenico Sovrano?"

"Uh, oh," he smirks, "do you know how much of a turn on it is when you say my complete name?"

I slide my hand between us and cup the bulge at his crotch, "I am beginning to guess."

He pushes into me and my hips touch the wall behind me. He tilts his hips so I can feel every single ridge of his length against my palm. Heat coils in my belly and moisture laces my panties.

"You're so damn sexy, you know that?"

"I am, aren't I?" He smirks.

I laugh, "And not modest at all."

"Can't afford to be, in my line of work, baby."

My smile promptly vanishes. "How are the talks going with JJ and Nikolai? Are they agreeable to legitimizing the businesses?"

"Not completely," he raises a shoulder, "but I am sure I'll win them over."

"Like I said, not modest at all."

"They'll come around. They'll have to, when they see that the figures make sense. This is an opportunity for them to carve out a future that is safer for their families too, after all."

"You think they'll agree to that?"

"They will, once we've figured out the practicalities of how to manage the transition."

"Meanwhile," he lowers his head so his eyelashes entangle against mine, "where were we?"

He drags his palms up my hips and his fingertips brush against the bandage across my lower back.

I freeze; so does he.

"What's this?" He scowls, "Did you hurt yourself?"

"N...no," I tip up my chin, "I, ah, wanted to add something to what you marked on my back earlier.

"Can I see?"

I nod, then turn my back on him. He raises my shirt, stares down at the strip of clear plastic which covers my lower back.

His breath catches. "Beauty, you..." his voice cracks. "you wrote my name on your body?"

"I wanted to..." I glance at him over my shoulder again, "I wanted to find a way to ink your name into my skin and this seemed fitting.

"Mika's whore," he reads out aloud. "You shouldn't have hurt yourself further, this way."

"It's a hurt that I gladly bear," I say softly. "I needed to show you that I meant it, that this time, I am not leaving you. That you are stuck with me, Don."

He swivels me around in the circle of his arms. "My whore," he kisses my forehead, "my slut," he kisses me on one eyelid, "my pussy," then the other. "My Beauty," he kisses me on the tip of my nose. "Mine." He presses his lips to mine. "Only mine."

I share his breath, drag his scent into my lungs, and my entire core clenches. I lean in to deepen the kiss when.

"Get a room, you guys!"

Seb's voice sounds behind us.

Michael groans. "Ignore him," he murmurs as he presses his lips to mine. I open my mouth and his tongue sweeps in. He deepens the kiss and my belly trembles. He hauls me up against him, and I pull my hand out from between us and wind it about his shoulders. He pushes his hips forward and the thickness between his legs stabs into my core.

A whine bleeds from my lips and he swallows it down. He grabs my arse, squeezes, and heat jolts up my spine. I press myself into him and my breasts flatten against his chest. He nibbles on my lips and I can't stop the moan the spills from my lips.

"Michael," I gasp, "we need to stop. Your brothers... Your family will be here soon."

"The fuck I care?"

"Michelangelo!" Nonna calls out, and both of us freeze.

Michael steps back, peers into my face. "To be continued," he smirks.

Then, as if he can't stop himself, he leans down and presses a hard kiss to my lips. He slides around to stand behind me, then places his hands on my shoulders. I glance toward the entrance where Nonna stands, a knowing look on her face. Seb and Massimo flank her. Seb smirks. Massimo looks like he's about to say something, then seems to change his mind.

Nonna walks toward us and I stiffen. Not that I am afraid of her, but I am definitely wary of her. Despite the fact that the last time we met, she seemed almost friendly. And of course, I am the Don's wife now… But she's the Don's grandmother, so in that sense, she still has influence over my husband. Still, I know Michael's too smart to let his grandmother manipulate him into anything, but Nonna's w-a-a-y too astute. It's why I am not sure what to make of her yet.

Michael wraps an arm around my waist, still keeping the lower part of his body hidden behind mine.

"What are you doing?" I hiss. "Why don't you walk forward and meet her?"

"Because if I did that, everyone would know just how aroused I still am from kissing my wife."

"Oh." Heat flushes my cheeks.

"Exactly," he chuckles and the sound pulls at my nerve endings. My toes curl and I have to glance away. Damn it, I am turned on and his Nonna is watching us with a curious gaze as she approaches us.

She pauses in front of us, then takes my hand in hers, "Thank you for organizing this delayed Christmas get together." Her lips tilt in a smile that is—dare I say, quite genuine?

"Thank you for coming, Nonna." I step forward. Michael removes his hand from around me and I kiss Nonna's cheek. Her skin is papery thin, and she seems more fragile than when I last saw her.

Guess burying a son can do that to you? Michael had decided to bury his father with full honors. I hadn't been in Sicily to attend it, but I'd heard that the funeral itself had been attended by all the clan leaders. Cassandra had mentioned to me that Nonna had been pale-faced and ashen throughout the funeral, but she had managed to stay dry-eyed until the end. Maybe she had shed her tears in private. She seems genuinely pleased to be here though, so that's something.

"You don't think that this was too soon after what happened with Xander do you?"

She pauses, a considering look on her face, "Perhaps for a more traditional person it might seem that way," she murmurs. "And it's not that I don't mourn him," she swallows, "but I also know that Xander would not have wanted us to dwell on the past. He was an artist, a dreamer, a visionary, even. He would have wanted us to celebrate his life and look to the future."

I peer into her features, take in the intent expression on her face, "You mean it, don't you?"

"I never say anything I don't mean, Karma." She smiles. "In fact, I am going to follow your example." Her eyes gleam with that devilish glint that is so familiar. Something I have seen in Michael's eyes, too.

"You are?" I frown.

"Absolutely." She glances between us, "This family has been through so much, we need a fresh start. A chance to know each other all over again."

Oh, hell, do I even want to know where this is going?

"What are you thinking of, Nonna?" Michael asks.

"A Christmas getaway."

"Christmas is over," Michael points out, "and we're already having this delayed Christmas get together to make up for not being able to celebrate Christmas."

"It's not enough." Her lips firm. "It will take more than a few hours to mend the fractures left behind by your father. It's time we came together and found a way to heal, don't you think?"

Michael blows out a breath, "Are you sure about this?"

"Are you questioning me, Michael?" she asks in a deceptively soft tone that mirrors the one Michael often uses to get his way.

Michael stiffens, then a reluctant chuckle rumbles up his chest. "You are one hell of a woman, Nonna." He reaches around me to take her hand, "If it will make you happy..."

"It will." The older woman nods her head as a smile forms on her face. "Now that you are married," she glances between us, "it's time for me to focus on getting the rest of your brothers hitched, too."

Michael groans, "I'm glad I am no longer in the line of fire."

"You were smart enough to snap up your soulmate when you met her. Now, I need to make sure your brothers follow your lead. Also," that same wicked gleam reappears in her eyes, "I'm hoping that spending a few days in each other's company will help us strengthen our familial ties... If we don't kill each other first, that is."

I chuckle, Michael laughs, and Nonna's face lights up with a proper smile. "Now, where's my drink?"

As if summoned, Cassandra walks toward us with a tray of prosecco flutes. I take a glass and hand it to Nonna. She accepts it, sniffs it, then raises her eyebrows at me. "Is this?—?"

I nod, "It's your favorite."

I take a glass for myself, then smile my thanks at Cassandra. She turns, then stops when Adrian walks onto the terrace. She seems to steel herself, then walks past him. He turns and his gaze tracks her until she disappears from sight. He turns, catches me staring and a small smile tugs at his lips. He walks over to the bar just as Luca steps onto the terrace. He glances around and his gaze collides with Michael's. The tension in the air ratchets up. I glance over my shoulder to find Michael scowling.

"Be nice, Don," I murmur.

He blows out a breath. "It's going to take some getting used to, but family is family after all, eh?" He walks past me and meets Luca half-way on the terrace. The two men murmur in low voices, then Michael jerks his chin. "Get us some Macallan," he calls out to Massimo, who's behind the bar. Massimo raises his thumb in a 'will do' gesture, then goes back to pouring.

"Good to see Michael making an effort," I remark.

Nonna turns to me, "You're good for him."

"Oh?" I meet her gaze, "Are you being sarcastic?"

"Do I look like I am being sarcastic?" She tilts her head. Her faded blue eyes twinkle, and again, I see so much of Michael in her that I can't stop the smile that curves my lips.

"No," I chuckle, "that sounds like a real compliment."

"It is." Nonna raises her glass, and so do I. We clink, and I take a sip. Notes of cherry and vanilla pop on my palate as the crisp taste of the Prosecco slides down my throat.

"Mmm," I lick my lips, "that's so good."

"My husband used to get me a bottle for every celebration." She stares at her flute with a soft look in her eyes. "Roberto was a typical Mafioso, as macho as they come, but he always remembered what I liked."

"He loved you?"

"He did," she raises her glass to her lips, "in his own way." She glances past me and frowns. "Who is that with Christian?"

I turn to find Christian walking into the family gathering, Aurora's arm tucked into his, his hand on hers. Either in a soothing gesture...or in one meant to control her, maybe?

He pauses a little way inside of the entrance. When Cassandra walks over with a full tray of Prosecco, he picks up a flute and hands it to Aurora, who accepts it. She's also wearing a beautiful silk dress that clings to her curves and flows to below her knees. On her feet are six-inch heels which are very different from the sensible wedges I normally see her in. She seems...different... Like a mafioso's woman. She glances at me, then away.

Huh? What's happening here?

Aurora downs the prosecco in one go. She places the glass back on Cassandra's tray, reaches for another, but Christian wraps his fingers around her wrist and stops her. He leans in, whispers something in her ear as Cassandra walks away.

Aurora shoots him a glance full of hatred; Christian chuckles.

What the hell? What's happening between these two?

Christian straightens, then he turns and walks toward us.

"Christian Roberto Domenico Sovrano," Nonna narrows her gaze on him, "just the person I am looking for."

Christian frowns, "I am?" He comes to a stop in front of us, Aurora in tow.

Nonna's eyes gleam, "I am an old woman, Christian, I don't know how long I have left on this earth."

"Nonna, please," Christian holds up his hand, "you are going to outlive us all and you know it. So why don't you come to the point, hmm? What's on your mind?"

"What's on my mind is that I am worried about you Christian."

"You are?"

She nods, "It's high time you got married and settled down."

"Michael just got married," Christian points out.

"And now I can't wait for you to settle down."

"What about Massimo?" Christian scowls, "he's older than me. Shouldn't he get married before I do."

"Massimo didn't lose his twin, you did."

Christian pales, "Nonna, what are you trying to say?"

Nonna narrows her gaze on him, "Since before you were born you had Xander by your side. Now he's gone and you are on your own."

Christian's jaw tics, "your point being?" He finally says through gritted teeth.

"I don't want you to be alone. In fact I have someone who would make you the perfect wife, I?—"

Christian holds up his hand, "Let me stop you right there, Nonna."

Nonna scowls, "Let me complete what I am going to say."

"I know what you are going to say, and I am a step ahead of you." His lips curl.

Uh-oh! I am not sure I like the expression on his face. He seems too confident, too sure of himself. He releases his hold on Aurora only to wrap his arm around her and pull her close.

"Nonna," He tilts his head, before he locks his gaze with Michael's. "Don Sovrano," his smile widens, "meet the woman who is going to be my wife."

Want To find out what happens next? Turn the Page to read Christian & Aurora's story in a very mafia Christmas