Pizza.
My favorite place doesn’t deliver here, but I find a brochure for what appears to be Salvatore’s favorite shop. I order a couple of pies, and then grab a bottle of sparkling water and wait for dinner.
I’m starving, the need to consume an entire large pizza overcomes me and I know that if I don’t eat soon, I’m going to possibly gnaw my arm off. Thankfully, that’s about the time the doorman rings up and asks if I’ve ordered delivery.
A few minutes later, I have the cardboard box open sitting on the coffee table and I’m leaning over it, shoving hot pizza in my face, thankful to be alone. There is no way I could eat with Salvatore in the room right now, I’m just that hungry.
I package Salvatore’s pizza up in baggies, sticking them in the fridge, and then I take the boxes out to the small trash bin before I close down the condo, take a shower, and slip into bed.
Looking over at the clock, I’m surprised to see that it’s well after midnight. I thought that Salvatore would be home by now.
This has quite possibly been one of the longest days of my life. Shaking my head, I smile to myself. My wedding day was the longest, but this ranks in the top ten for sure. Lying down on the pillow, I stare up at the ceiling and I wait.
I can’t sleep. I won’t be able to sleep, not until he’s safe at home with me and I know that everything is okay. I left the light on in the bathroom so that I could see when he came home, so that I will know that it is him at the door when he passes through, hopefully soon.
My mind is full of nothing but worry. A man that I don’t even know helped strategize this whole thing. He wanted to ruin me, to get to Gavino. He didn’t care who I was and maybe that’s what hurts the most.
Trevisani didn’t give a shit who he hurt. But Courtney, Miguel, and Valerius actually knew me and they had no problem hurting me, too. They didn’t care, they were just going to continue to hurt me any way that they could.
I would have done anything for Courtney and Valerius. I considered them my good friends, and Miguel was my lover. I didn’t necessarily have any real deep feelings for Miguel past lust, but I liked him and it just hurts inside that they all gave not one single fuck about me.
There’s a noise coming from the living room and I hold my breath, hoping that it’s exactly who I want it to be, who I’ve been hoping will come home any second. Heavy footsteps climb the stairs, and then they stop at the doorway.
“You’re home?” I ask softly.
There isn’t a noise, not even a grunt of acknowledgment, so I sit up as terror slides throughout my body at who could be standing in the doorway watching me. That is, until I see that it’s him. Shaking my head, I stare at Salvatore for a long moment. He doesn’t move, his eyes focused on mine.
“Salvatore?” I call out.
He shakes his head once before his gaze finds mine again. “It was a long night, bambola,” he breathes. “I need to burn my suit.”
“Do you have a metal trash can in your office?” I ask as I slide from the bed.
“You’re not doing it for me,” he snaps.
Closing the distance between us, I don’t make a move to touch him, but I do stand close enough that I have to tilt my head back to look up into his eyes.
“I am. I am your wife, Salvatore. Proudly so, too. You did what you did to protect me. Now, strip, shower, get me that trash can, and warm yourself some pizza up from the fridge.”
“Pizza?” he asks.
My lips curve up into a grin. “Pizza, Salvi.”
He hesitates for a moment, then as if he’s just a robot following orders, he does exactly what I’ve instructed him to do, in the order I instructed. Salvatore may have protected me tonight, but now that he’s home, now that he’s with me, it’s my turn to take care of him.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
SALVATORE
Arlo and I killed a boss. Not just a Made Man, but a boss. The bad thing is, I liked it. Killing him was a necessity, but it wasn’t just something I needed to do this time. Killing Trevisani couldn’t be avoided, but that doesn’t mean that I should like it as much as I did—and I did.
I liked it a hell of a lot—too much.
Letting the hot water wash over my body, I can’t stop thinking about everything that’s happened. As the blood washes down the drain, I cringe at the fact that Rosana is burning my clothes right now. I’ve put blood on her hands. I’m not protecting her right now, not in the slightest.
Finishing up quickly, I wrap the towel around my waist and step out of the shower. Quickly, I grab a pair of athletic shorts and slip them on, then go in search of my wife. She’s not in the office, the kitchen, or anywhere else in the house, so I head out to the balcony.
I find her with my office trash can next to her, a small fire still going inside. She’s got a bottle of water in her hand and she’s leaning over the banister slightly. Walking up behind her, I slide my hand around her belly and feel her there.
“Salvi,” she breathes as she straightens slightly and turns around in my arms to face me.
Tipping my chin, I look down at her. I don’t know why she’s here with me. Why she’s come back to me and accepts me. She knows I’m a killer, she’s got the bloody clothes burning next to us to prove it.
“Why?” I ask.
She doesn’t say anything right away, her eyes searching mine. “I love you,” she murmurs.
“It’s not just that and you know it,” I say.
Her lips curve up into a grin and she licks her lips. “You’re a good man, Salvi. Don’t deny it, because you know that you are. A few months ago, I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near you. Not because I wouldn’t have been attracted to you, but because I knew that I would have and I wanted nothing to do with Made Men in general.”
“But now?”
“As much as you think you don’t protect me, that you can’t protect me, you do. You protect me and you’ve saved me. I hate that I’m dependent on you, but I am.”
Inhaling a deep breath, I let it out with a sigh. “I’m just as dependent on you. I can’t be without you, Rosana. Maybe that’s just part of love?”
“I don’t know, the only person I’ve ever loved before you was Pippa.”
My lips twitch and I tip my head down, touching my lips to hers. “There was not a single person I loved before you, bambola. Forgive me if I fuck up constantly?”
“As long as it’s not too big of a fuckup.” She laughs against my lips.
I hum, sliding my tongue along the seam of her lips. “Not too big. That was my one big one, hopefully, the biggest of our lifetime, yeah?”
Rosana wraps her fingers around my biceps, then slowly slides her hands up my arms and wraps her fingers around my shoulders with a gentle squeeze. Looking into her eyes, I can’t see anything but her and I’m thankful.
That feeling of adrenaline from killing Trevisani disappears. Out here on this balcony, there is only her and me, there isn’t anyone else, and I feel better. Just having her in my arms makes me feel better.
“The clothes are gone,” she whispers. “Have you eaten?”
Shaking my head, I can’t look at what’s left of the clothes. I can only look at her. Rosana smiles softly.
“You need food, and then we need to go to sleep. The doctor’s appointment was rescheduled to first thing in the morning.”
My eyes widen and my lips part. “Fuck,” I hiss.
“You forgot.” She laughs softly. “I canceled when I figured out why you were at Gavino’s. I knew something big was going down.”
“Yeah,” I grunt. “No joke.”
“Food,” she says a bit firmer.
Leaning down, I touch her lips with mine, then wrap my fingers around hers and tug her behind me into the house.
“I need to clean that up,” she says.
“No, you don’t. You did enough. Come and eat cold pizza with me.”
She doesn’t argue with me any longer, not even about the food. Once we’re in the kitchen, I bend down
and pick her up, setting her on the counter before I open the refrigerator and find the bag of pizza.
Taking a couple slices out, I hand her one.
“I didn’t know what kind you liked,” she says, her voice sounding unsure.
Shoving a piece in my mouth, I bite off a chunk and chew. “Can’t go wrong with all meat,” I murmur around my food.
“That’s what I figured,” she says with a shrug before she takes a bite of her slice.
We stay that way, shirtless in only shorts, Rosana on the counter, and a bag of cold pizza between us. Maybe I’m not the monster that I thought I was. Though, to be fair, I probably am.
The monster inside has always lurked just beneath the surface, he’s just made himself known now. I’m not sure I want to hide him ever again, either.
As terrified as I was in the beginning when I enjoyed killing Trevisani, I’m coming to terms with that and I’m not scared anymore. I’m not any different. I still have the ability to love her—to love in general.
ROSANA
Salvatore didn’t try to have sex with me and I’m okay with that. Last night was exhausting and as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out for the night. I didn’t even move a muscle, not a single fucking one, until my alarm went off.
Sitting straight up, I lift my hand to my chest and look over to the side of the bed. I’m surprised to see Salvatore’s side of the bed empty.
Frowning, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand. Hurrying to the bathroom, I take care of business before I head down to find him.
He’s standing in the kitchen, shirtless, a pair of athletic shorts on his bottom, the same ones that he was wearing last night.
“Did you sleep at all?” I chance asking.
He turns, looking over his shoulder at me, and aims a small smile in my direction. “A little,” he lies.
I know it’s a lie, I can tell by the look in his eyes, and the dark shadows beneath them. Walking over to him, I close the distance between us and lift my hand, cupping his cheek. Sliding the pad of my thumb beneath his eye, I let out a sigh.
“You look exhausted,” I point out.
He hums, wrapping his fingers around my wrist before he turns and touches his lips to my palm. “I bought muffins,” he rasps.
“Shirtless?” I gasp.
Salvatore chuckles, shaking his head. “I should be clear, I ordered muffins,” he explains.
“Blueberry?” I breathe.
He smiles, dipping his chin before his lips brush mine. “Blueberry, bambola. Go on and sit down, OJ?”
Nodding, I hurry over to the small kitchen table and sink down. He comes over just a few moments later, OJ and blueberry muffin in hand for me. He has a banana nut one in front of him and I wrinkle my nose at the sight of it.
“Not a fan?” he asks.
“I don’t like banana smashed in food,” I explain.
“More for me.” He grins, then lifts the muffin to his lips and takes a huge bite.
We eat mostly in silence and my eyes drift over to the trash can out on the balcony, but it’s not there. I look back over to Salvatore, but he doesn’t seem too bothered, so I decide to let it go. When we’re finished eating, he offers to clean up while I get dressed.
Hurrying upstairs, I quickly strip down and take a shower. It doesn’t take me too long, I’m far too excited about the appointment and ultrasound—finally. I feel like I’ve been waiting years for this, not just weeks.
Once I’m showered, I go into the closet and try to find something to wear. I have all the clothes that Salvatore bought me, but they’re the clothes of a mafia wife, and I still don’t feel like one yet. It feels like playing dress-up when I wear them.
Deciding on a pair of white high-waisted elastic pants, I pair them with a rust-colored bodysuit and a tan-colored jacket—costume. It’s a costume because this is not me at all, but it’s the me that I need to be from now on.
I’m Salvatore Macchio’s wife, the wife of the Consigliere, and I need to play the part. Once I’m dressed, I apply some makeup and brush my hair, straightening and smoothing it out, then slip my feet into a pair of nude high heels.
Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I let out a sigh then turn around. Salvatore is dressed and leaning against the doorjamb.
As always, he looks like perfection in pants. He’s not wearing a jacket, but he probably has one with him. His deep charcoal pants are paired perfectly with a deep navy shirt and a matching charcoal tie.
“Why do you always look so amazing and comfortable and I feel like a little girl playing dress-up?” I ask as I walk toward him.
His lips curve up, and he shakes his head. “You’ll be more comfortable. Give it time, yeah?”
“I haven’t decided about work yet. I did call them to let them know that I wouldn’t be in the rest of the week due to an unexpected death in the family.”
At least I didn’t lie about the unexpected death. That has to stand for something, right? Salvatore smiles and nods his head once, then holds out his hand for me.
“C’mon, my beautiful bambola.”
I couldn’t stop my cheeks from getting hot from his words, not even if I tried. Slipping my hand in his, together we walk toward the front door, then the car. The ride is in silence, but Salvatore holds my hand the entire time.
When the doctor’s office comes into view, I can’t move. This is it. This is the extreme moment of truth. Granted, I know that I’m pregnant. My body has changed, but this is when it all becomes reality, major reality.
“You ready, Rosana?” Salvatore calls out.
I don’t even realize that he’s slipped from the car and he has my door open and is standing there, palm up, waiting for me. Looking up to him, I nod my head and take his hand. He helps me to my feet and together we walk into the doctor’s office.
Checking in, we walk over to a set of chairs and sit down next to one another. This feels like a dream, all of it, like an alternate reality. Salvatore doesn’t let go of my hand. He keeps a firm grip on me the whole time, then when the nurse calls us back, my heart slams against my ribs.
“Come on in, mommy and daddy. Mommy, you can have a seat up on the table,” the nurse instructs.
My eyes immediately find Salvatore’s and it hits me, it hits me like a ton of bricks. Daddy. He’s this baby’s daddy. There is nobody else. He not only has taken full responsibility, but it’s his. Nobody else’s. He must know why I’m staring at him, because his lips twitch in a small smile, and he mouths, Daddy.
Tears fill my eyes as I watch him. He chuckles, but he doesn’t break eye contact with me. This is what we needed. Many little things have brought us together, other things have threatened to tear us apart, but this—this is the moment that we are solidified.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
ROSANA
After my complete evaluation, the doctor tells me that everything looks great so far. Then he guides us over to a small room next to the examination room.
Climbing up on the small table, I press my lips together as he squirts cool gel on my stomach. Then he puts the wand against my belly and I hear it.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
The sound of my baby’s heartbeat fills the small room. Looking over at the screen, I see the little black-and-white screen, then I make out the baby as the doctor points it all out to me.
“You’re a little further along than I would like for your first appointment, but everything looks really good,” he says.
Guilt consumes me at his words. I should have been here as soon as I found out. I should have run to his office, but I didn’t. Not only was I terrified, but I was also in denial. I accepted the idea of the baby, but not the reality of it.
Tears fill my eyes and start to fall down my temples and onto the small paper-covered pillow. This is really real. Turning my head, I tear my eyes from the screen to look over at Salvatore.
I’m not sure what to expect. He’s not the baby’s biological father, so it wouldn’t
upset me if he had zero emotional reaction to this moment.
But I’m wrong.
Salvatore is staring at the screen in awe. His lips are parted and his eyes are round. Smiling, I reach out, grabbing ahold of his hand. He squeezes my fingers, then flicks his gaze down to meet mine.
“I can’t believe it,” he rasps.
“I’ll print out some pictures for the proud parents and we’ll see you back in four weeks,” he announces.
I thank him and take the pictures that he offers, then sit up and readjust myself. He leaves us alone in the room and I stare at Salvatore, who is deep in awe of the grainy black-and-white sonogram picture.
“Salvi?” I call out.
He lifts his head, his eyes are wide and I can tell he’s surprised, but it’s not in a bad way, he’s just in awe and it’s beautiful.
“I’m quitting my job. If I want to work later, I might, but right now I can’t imagine leaving this baby for even a minute, let alone eight hours a day or more.”
Relief floods his features, and he nods his head once. “Thank fuck,” he sighs. “I can’t quit my job ever, but I don’t think I could pass this baby off to anyone. It’s mine to keep, mine to protect, and I will do that. I know I said I couldn’t, but I don’t have a choice anymore.”
Tears fill my eyes again and fall down my cheeks. This is what I knew I wanted, this is what I hoped for, and this is exactly what I got. A man who wants not just me, but this baby too. A man who will love this baby unconditionally.
A real man.
“You ready?” he asks.
Nodding, I jump off the table and together we walk out of the doctor’s office. Salvatore slips the ultrasound image in his wallet and then we go to lunch together. I’m not sure of what the future holds. I’m not sure of anything, except one thing.
I am sure that without a doubt, Salvatore will always protect me—protect us. He thinks that he can’t, but he’s so wrong.
Once we finish lunch, I expect him to say that he wants to go home. I have only checked off one of my listed items. Making love to my husband hasn’t happened yet and I’m beyond ready to feel his body against and inside of mine.
Becoming her Salvation (Zanetti Famiglia Book 7) Page 25