by T L Swan
Where are you?
He would have seen me walk in with the moonlight behind me. I duck down into the foliage and crawl out of sight.
I sit still for ten minutes and slowly allow my eyes to adjust. I can soon see a lot more than I could before. I pick up a small rock and hurl it as far away as I can. It hits a tree a fair distance away with a bang.
I slowly climb to my feet and scan the forest as I grip the knife in my hand.
I see a shadow on the hill, and I creep toward it.
It’s him. I can see his chest sucking in air as he gasps for breath. He’s losing a lot of blood.
Does he have a weapon?
I hunch down and make my way toward him.
“Ferrara!” he cries.
I stay silent.
“Ferrara! Let’s make a deal!” he calls, his voice echoing over the valley.
He’s bleeding out and he knows it.
I throw a rock and it lands next to him. He jumps back in fear.
He’s unarmed.
I stand up and show myself, knife in hand as I slowly walk toward him.
His eyes hold mine. “We can be great together. We can join forces—be the strongest syndicate the world has ever seen.” He’s wet with perspiration, and he’s desperate.
I hunch down beside him. “You’re dying, Lombardi.”
He pants.
“I guess you’re not so lucky after all.”
“Enrico,” he whispers. “I’ve always admired you.”
My skin prickles. I know he would say anything to try and gain my sympathy. I glare at the lying bastard sitting propped up against the tree.
Die.
“We could run the biggest crime syndicate in the world. With your connections…and my…” He coughs, and blood splutters from his mouth.
His face falls as he realizes what’s happening, and he reaches out for me. “Help me.”
I kneel down and watch the life slowly drain out of him.
Eye to eye.
I want to see the moment he passes. I want to taste the victory of retribution.
“Enri…” He coughs, and a large amount of blood comes from his mouth.
His face falls and he grabs for me again. He lets out a pained gargling sound.
I watch on in fascination.
I’ve never watched someone die before.
I’ve seen people pass, but I’ve always fought to save them.
I’ve been frantic with words of encouragement and prayer.
I envision myself dragging his head back by the hair and slicing his throat.
I would have loved to have taken his life myself, but that would have been too kind.
He deserves to suffer.
His eyes still… and I smile.
His head drops, and I know he’s gone.
I stare at him and take a moment to reflect on Sophia.
I get a vision of her with her curves and her long dark hair. Perhaps in another life she could have made me happy.
“Enrico!” Jennifer calls.
I stand, and with a heavy heart, I turn to her. She has her gun drawn.
“He’s dead.”
I walk past her and back to the house where two local police cars have arrived. Their siren lights are flashing, lighting up the sky.
I find Olivia crying and wrapped up in a blanket. Her face lights up when she sees me, and she stands.
“Oh, thank God!” she cries.
“It’s okay,” I whisper as I take her into my arms. “He’s gone now.”
She puts her head onto my shoulder and cries as Jennifer walks back into the room.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“I believe thank you is the word you’re looking for,” she says sarcastically.
I roll my eyes. I hate this woman with a passion.
“I was following Lombardi. I had no idea he was coming for you.” She shakes her head as she looks at the smashed-up room. “We have enough evidence to clear your name, Enrico. I’ll organize a transfer back to Italy for you both first thing in the morning.”
I look down at the beautiful woman in my arms. “No.”
“No?” She frowns.
“I think I might like to stay dead for a little while longer.” I smile down at Olivia. “I promised my girl a holiday.”
Epilogue
Olivia
Four months later
The sea breeze blows through my hair, and I look into the big brown eyes opposite me.
Enrico and I are standing on the sandy beach outside our house. We’re as happy as happy can be.
It’s our wedding day.
I’m in a tight, crochet white dress with my baby bump proudly on display. My hair is down, and I have a yellow flower tucked behind one ear. Enrico is wearing white hippy clothes and is completely barefoot. It’s so unlike Enrico Ferrara.
But so Australian.
We had to change locations after Lombardi found us.
After the ordeal I went through, Enrico decided that he wanted to have more time alone before we went back to Italy. He wanted my pregnancy to be as stress-free as possible. At first, it was going to be for just one month. That then turned into two, two turned into three, and now here we are, living on an island just off the Australian North Coast.
Of course, our mothers know we are safe… but nobody else just yet. We’re flying completely under the radar.
Giuliano is in training, while Lorenzo is currently running Ferrara.
For now, we can stay where we are in our stress-free little bubble.
Alone and happy.
Without enemies, bodyguards, or family.
We have never had this in our relationship: time alone.
It’s so precious, and we are savoring every second together.
We talk, laugh, and lie in the sun. We make love endlessly. This time alone in our pregnancy is his gift to me, and we are so looking forward to our baby coming along in eight weeks.
Life is surprisingly… normal.
That is, until you see the mansion we live in. Enrico couldn’t live in any other type of home.
Luxury is who he is. He’s a Ferrara to the bone.
The priest continues, “Do you, Enrico Ferrara, take Olivia Reynolds to be your lawful wife?”
Enrico blinks back his tears, and I smile softly. He’s the most sentimental man I have ever known, and most definitely a far cry from the hardened mafia boss that everybody else knows.
I get the best of him.
His undying love and everything we have been through together has all been worth it to get to where we are right now.
To where we are supposed to be.
This isn’t how we planned to do things, but we’ve learnt that no matter what happens in the world, us being together is all that matters.
It’s important to him that we be married before the baby arrives. Today is our beach wedding. We will have a Catholic ceremony in The Pantheon when we get home to Italy.
Our sacred place.
“To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”
Enrico gives me a broad, beautiful smile, and I melt. “I will.” He slowly slides the gold band onto my finger, and it’s my turn to blink back the tears.
“And do you, Olivia Reynolds, take Enrico Ferrara to be your lawful wedded husband?”
Enrico gives me a sexy wink, and I giggle despite my tears.
“To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”
“I will.” I slide the thick gold band onto Enrico’s finger, and he smiles proudly.
“You may kiss your bride.”
We both laugh. Enrico leans in and softly kisses me. It’s full of emotion, love, and hope.
It’s perfect.
Just like him.
My love, my life, my Italian.
Two years later
The sound of the music floats through the air. I look around for my family. We are at a local fê
te. Or as we call it here… a carnival.
People are dancing in colorful costumes, and there are food stalls everywhere. The air is filled with laughter; so much laughter.
I see a little head bopping around up ahead, and I smile.
Enrico is standing and talking to three of his friends. Our son is high on his shoulders.
Romeo is two now, and he’s the spitting image of his father with big brown eyes, and dark hair full of curls. He’s also as smart as a whip and as cheeky as hell.
I stand and watch them for a while. Enrico has a hold of Romeo’s legs, and Romeo is laughing and dancing with another little boy who sits on his father’s shoulders while the men talk.
The other man says something, and Enrico throws his head back and laughs out loud. Romeo reaches down and pulls his hair.
Enrico winces in pain.
I laugh. This child is mischievous. He’s also the absolute apple of his father’s eye.
Enrico adores him.
I’m pregnant again—six months now—and healthy and happy.
Life’s good. It’s better than good. Amazing.
We’ll go back to Italy one day, but not yet.
Enrico wants all of his children to have this childhood. He misses Italy desperately, but not at the cost of his children’s safety and freedom.
He gets it now. He understands his father and why he did what he did. It took a long time, and he’s read that letter his father left for him many times over. But I know that, on many levels, he’s grateful that he didn’t know the finer details back then. He’s grateful that his father stayed with his mother for the sake of his children, and to be there for her.
We’re both grateful that we survived what we did.
Enrico’s eyes meet mine across the park and he says goodbye to his friends before he walks over to me. He bends and kisses me softly, and then takes my hand in his.
I look up to the little boy on his father’s shoulders.
“Ciao, amori miei! Sei pronto per tornare a casa, Romeo?” I ask. Translation: Hello, my loves. Are you ready to go home, Romeo?
“Si, mamma.” He nods.
Enrico reaches down and puts his hand over my stomach.
“Ti ho detto che sei bellissima oggi?” he asks. Translation: Did I tell you that you look beautiful today?
I giggle as I kiss his big beautiful lips.
“Una o due volte.” Translation: Once or twice.
We speak Italian at home now. It’s Romeo’s first language.
We make our way to the car.
“Dobbiamo fermarci all’ufficio postale andando verso casa. Il mio pacco è arrivato,” Enrico says. Translation: We have to stop off at the post office on the way home. My parcel has arrived.
I smirk. “Cosa hai comprato?” Translation: What did you buy now?
He gives me a sexy wink as he loads Romeo into the SUV.
Enrico still buys designer everything, he just does it online now.
I’m the best dressed woman in Australia.
You can take the man out of Italy.
You can’t take the Italy out of the man.
The End.
Ferrara - Coming Soon
Giuliano
I sit at the desk in Enrico Ferrara’s office.
He was murdered last week, and I don’t know why I’ve been brought here. I’m nervous that my mother made me come.
Does this have something to do with our fight last week at the library?
An elderly man sits down at the desk beside me, while two other men are sitting at the desk, also.
“My name is Lorenzo, and this is Andrea and Matteo.”
I nod. “Hello.”
Lorenzo exhales heavily. “There are some things that you don’t know, son. You have been protected up until now, but with the passing of Enrico Ferrara, you must be told of your heritage.”
I frown.
“Your father—”
“Leave my father out of this,” I snap.
He glares at me, unimpressed that I interrupted him. “Your father’s name wasn’t Lindon.”
I frown harder now.
“Your father was Giuliano Ferrara.”
“What?”
Lorenzo and the other men exchange worried looks.
“It’s a very complicated story.” He pauses as he searches for the right wording. “Giuliano, your father lived a double life—one with your mother and you, and one with his wife and their three children.” “What? That’s ridiculous!” I scoff. “He wasn’t married to someone else. You have the wrong man.”
“We don’t. These are your two brothers, Giuliano.” He gestures to the two men and they smile sadly. “Andrea and Matteo.”
My eyes flicker between the three of them. “You’re lying.” I stand abruptly.
Lorenzo stands, too, and he pushes me back into the chair. “Your other brother was murdered last week. His name was Enrico Ferrara.”
My eyes widen as I begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears.
The floor moves beneath me.
“You have been left in your father’s will to take over management of the Ferrara family empire.”
My face falls. “It’s okay,” Andrea says softly. “You won’t be alone, Giuliano.”
“We will be here every step of the way to train you and to help you with the transition,” Lorenzo says.
I stare at him as the walls close in.
That means…
She’s my sister.
Afterword
Thank you so much for reading.
You are making my dreams come true.
Find me at tlswanauthor.com
Acknowledgments
There are no words meaningful enough to thank my wonderful team.
I don’t write my books alone. I have an army.
The best army in the world.
Kellie, the most wonderful PA on Earth.
You are amazing. Thank you for all that you do for me.
Keeley, not only are you an amazing daughter, but you’re now a wonderful employee. Thank you for wanting to work alongside me. It means a lot.
To my wonderful beta readers: Mum, Vicki, Am, Rachel, Nicole, Lisa K Lisa D, Nadia, and Charlotte. Thank you. You put up with a lot and never whine, even when I make you wait for the next chapter. How I got so lucky to have you come into my life, and to be able to call you my friends, I will never know.
To Rena, you came into my life like a breath of fresh air and somehow adopted me.
Thank you for believing in me. You’re the Ying to my Yang, or the Ting to my Tang.
Vic, you make me better, and your friendship is so valued.
Virginia, thank you for everything you do for me. It is
so appreciated.
To my motivated mofos. I love you to bits. You know who you are.
To Linda and my PR Team at Forward. You have been with me since the beginning
and you will be with me until the end. Thank you for everything.
To my home girls in the Swan Squad. I feel like I can do anything with you girls in my corner. Thanks for making me laugh every single day.
This year I’m adding someone new to my list.
Amazon.
Thank you for providing me with an amazing platform to bring my books to life. I am my own boss. Without you, I wouldn’t have the job of my dreams.
Your belief and support of my work this last year has been nothing short of amazing.
And to my four reasons for living, my beautiful husband and three children.
Your love is my drug, my motivation and my calling.
Without you, I have nothing.
Everything I do is for you.
Also by T L Swan
Stanton Adore #Stanton book 1
Stanton Unconditional #Stanton book 2
Stanton Completely #Stanton book 3
Stanton Bliss – The epilogue #Stanton book 4
Marx Girl
Gym Junkie #Men of Marx book 1
Dr Stanton
#Dr Stanton book 1
Dr Stanton the Epilogue #Dr Stanton book 2
Mr Masters #Mr book 1
Mr Spencer #Mr book 2
Find Me Alastar #Alastar book 1
Play Along
The Stopover
Stanton Adore Excerpt
Available now - Full series completed
“Yes I’ll have a tall latte, double shot” Joshua smiles.
“I’ll have a skim cap please.” The waitress scribbles on her pad and leaves us alone.
He rests his elbows on the table and links his hands together under his chin, waiting for me to speak first. His eyes have a mischievous glow to them.
“So Josh, tell me about your life?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “What do you want to know?”
“I hear you’re wealthy.”
He smiles. “In some things.”
I tilt my head on the side. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I have money. It depends on your definition of wealthy.”
“Oh, I suppose. What’s your definition?” I ask, surprised.
He shrugs again. “Happily married, healthy kids.”
The waitress returns with our order.
Smiling, I rest my chin on one hand while I find myself swooning at his feet. “Are you dating?” I ask.
He scrunches up his nose, “Hell no.” Our drinks arrive and the waitress’ eyes linger a little long on Mr. Orgasmic here. I narrow my eyes at her. Ok, enough, buzz off.
“You.” I frown.
“Huh?”
“Are you dating?” I ask.
“No, nothing like that. Mum told me you had a boyfriend.”
I nod a little embarrassed. “Um, ex-boyfriend,” I murmur.