Lucca rubbed his hand tiredly over his face. “It’s all right, Maria. I’m going to stay here now. You can go.” Watching her nod her head and leave, he stood up, pulling off his shirt and took off his pants before crawling into bed. Taking Angie into his arms, he gently pushed back her hair and kissed her forehead before closing his eyes and joining her in sleep.
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She was warm when she began to wake this time. It was still dark, but the sun was trying to chase it away. Pushing herself tighter into the warmth, she smiled softly when he tightened his arms around her. It made me feel cared for. She knew it was Lucca; she could tell by the scent and feel of his body. Relaxing into him, Angie dozed on and off until she felt him move and try to untangle himself from her. Flexing her nails gently into his chest, she tried to snuggle deeper, not wanting to give this up. No one besides Alexa ever just held me without wanting something from her, and she greedily wanted to keep the feeling. Her stomach, unfortunately, had other ideas, growling softly in the silence. “Lucca, I’m hungry.” She murmured, causing him to freeze.
He was hesitant, almost as if he wasn’t sure I’d spoken. “Angie?”
Moving her nails weakly down his chest, sleep threatened to take her again. “Lucca, I’m hungry.” She sighed it out on a breath again, already closing her eyes.
This time when she felt him move, she didn’t try to stop him. Drifting, she felt him push back the hair from her face. “Baby, are you awake? Did you say you wanted something to eat?”
Nodding her head slightly, too tired to speak, the last thing she felt before it took her was his lips touching hers.
Swatting at the hands touching her, she grudgingly opened her eyes to a smiling Lucca. Closing them again, she tried to cuddle back into a ball, but he wouldn’t let me. “Come on, sleepyhead, I brought you food.” Opening her eyes back up, she tried to glare, but she didn’t have the energy, which he seemed to find amusing. Feebly, she attempted to push him away, which only made him smile more. Giving in, she let him feed her some weak broth with no flavor until he was happy and let her fall back to sleep.
For five days they continued like that, until she was feeling stronger and had had enough. “I want food, not broth,” She spat out like a child, refusing to open her mouth. We had been fighting like this for the last day, and the only thing that saved him from a smack was the doctor’s arrival.
He knocked once before he walked in. “Well, how’s our patient doing today?”
“She’s being difficult and is refusing to eat her broth,” Lucca answered, earning a glare. Who the fuck did he think he was? She could talk for herself. She was a big girl.
“Well, let’s take a look at her and see what we’ve got,” Doc said, smiling at her as if she was an overindulged child. Glaring, she began to take down her gown and found herself faced with Lucca glaring at her. Pushing her hand away, he maneuvered the gown so the doctor could check her but she was otherwise covered. Was he kidding? The guy had to be sixty. Pulling back the gauze, the doctor poked and prodded, leaving off the gauze before telling Lucca he could cover me. “Everything looks good.”
Exactly what she had been saying. “So can you please tell him,” pointing at Lucca, “that it’s fine for me to get out of bed and do everything I normally do?”
Picking up his bag, the doctor said, “Yep, you’re good to go. Just take it easy for the next week or two. Your body went through a large trauma, and the easier you take it, the quicker you’ll heal.” Dismissing her, he walked to the door. “Lucca, call me if you need anything.”
Throwing the covers back, she began to stand up.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going to take a shower.”
Reaching over, he gripped her chin. “Stay in bed. I’ll go run you a bath.” Rolling her eyes, she plopped back against the pillows. It wasn’t worth the fight. Though if he looked any smugger when he walked away, she might have just changed her mind. Sitting there, she must have zoned out because when she turned her head he was back, picking her up in his arms
“You know I can walk.”
Instead of answering, Lucca took her into the bathroom and stripped her. She had never been so happy she’d waxed; at least she didn’t look like a hairy beast. Keeping hold of her until she was seated in the tub, he ignored her grumbles. The water felt divine. So divine that she didn’t notice he’d stripped until he told her to move up. She must have been staring because when she finally reached his face in her appraisal, he was smirking. Asshole. She scooted up and he climbed in behind her and pulled her back against his chest. She had no intention of complaining about the position. She might not tell him so, but she loved being in his arms. She loved feeling close to him. It made her feel normal, as if the shit in her life had just been a bad dream. Taking the sponge, Lucca gently washed her while she soaked and was beginning to feel human again. When he started to wash her inner thigh, her breath hitched a little. It had been too long since she’d felt his touch like this. Hoping for more, he was disappointed when he quickly finished and got out of the tub. Wrapping a towel around his hips, he washed and rinsed her hair.
Lifting her from the tub, he dressed her mechanically. Carrying her to the bed, he proceeded to tuck her in and leave the room. Angie didn’t think she have ever felt so unattractive in her life. Whether she was clothed or not, Lucca had never been able to hide his lust for her until now. Of course he had never really seen or heard what had been done to her. She thought that now that he knew the truth, she wasn’t such a prize. She wasn’t the beautiful princess any longer but the broken doll, kept in pity. Defeat that no beating had ever put into her washed through her. She had finally found a man she wanted and now he didn’t want her. She suppose it was kind of poetic in a sick way. Nicholas had succeeded where Enzo had always failed because he had made her his alone.
Chapter 29
She had been moved back to her room almost a month earlier, Lucca no longer feeling duty bound to hold her in the night. Nothing was as it had been before. Now she was treated like the most fragile glass that could break at the slightest touch or sound. The only one in the house who treated her no differently was her little angel. With her, she was still mommy. Now she spent almost all her time with Alexa. It was the only way she felt she was still her. She had been allowed to start cooking again as soon as she could stand unassisted, but that was only because everyone had been spoiled and the thought of takeout made them groan in disgust. Though that was a hell of a lot better than Joan and Maria’s cooking. After the second incident of food poisoning, they weren’t allowed in the kitchen. She could hear the men moaning all the way up to her room that they’d take a bullet any day over eating another bite of their cooking ever again.
Moving down the stairs, Angie quietly made her way to the kitchen, careful to remain unseen by the laughing horde in the living room. Not because she didn’t want to join them but because she knew that if they saw her the laughter would die in their eyes. Oh, they would pretend that nothing was wrong, but tension would literally fill the air. Fighting back tears that seemed to come all the time, she hurried, not wanting anyone to see her like this. Once she was safely shut in the kitchen, she let out a pain-filled breath. The life she had never hoped to have had slipped through her fingers before she could grab onto it. For the first time in so long, she felt as if she wasn’t alone. She felt as if she was part of a group instead of a spectator, watching from the sidelines. And it was gone. Gone before it had ever begun.
She was drowning in self-pity as she moved around the kitchen, making dinner. She had always had nothing but disgust for those who acted like this, but she couldn’t stop herself. She wanted a family. She wanted to be part of something bigger than herself. Hadn’t he suffered enough? Wasn’t he good enough to be loved and wanted, instead of desired and craved? Was this to be her life now, an outsider forever looking in? Lucca would never ask her to leave; she was the mother of his chil
d. In their world, that meant something. His honor would demand that he keep her as his wife. In a cold bed she would lay, brought out to care for their child and home. Shown off as his possession to others, but left untouched, while he gave what should be hers to others. Given to others because each time he saw her he would see Nicholas or Enzo seeing, touching what should have been his alone to see, touch. She was unclean, not by choice but by fate. Her mother’s curse upon her complete.
Placing the meat into the oven, Angie went out the back door into the garden. She needed to think. She needed to figure out how to do what was best for her family, even if it destroyed her. A very unfunny laugh escaped her lips at that thought. When had she ever not done what was best for her family? Her whole life was doing what was best for her family, and where had that gotten her? She was still the princess alone in her tower, unable to touch those around her. No matter where she had been or what she had done, she was forever that princess. Had she ever escaped her tower? There was never going to be a knight to rescue her from the evil dragon who held her prisoner because she was the dragon. She was the evil, and no matter where she went, it followed her, waiting in the darkness to let loose its raging fire and destroy any bit of happiness she found.
…..
Watching from the window, Lucca was careful to remain unseen. Like a beautiful, cold statue, his wife sat in the garden. Even her eyes appeared frozen, as if time had stopped the moment she sat, keeping her tight in its grip, forever in that moment. He had waited as long as he could to let her heal. Lucca thought if he gave her time it would help, but it only seemed to make her worse. Each day she drew farther into herself. Into that place he couldn’t follow. Her pain was effecting everyone. They were all terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing. Even after Maria’s attack, it hadn’t been this bad. The only time she seemed like herself was when she was with Alexa. Only she could make her mommy smile. Moving away from the window when he saw her rise from the bench, Lucca sat at the table and waited for her to come back in. He was done with waiting for her to come to him.
The door opened so quietly that if he hadn’t been here to see it move, he never would have known. That’s how it was now, though. It was like living with a ghost. Moving into the kitchen, Lucca watched her move like she was on autopilot, pulling together dinner. He didn’t even think she realized he was there. For twenty minutes he sat there in silence, watching her. Finally unable to take it anymore, he got up and stepped behind her, taking the plates she was reaching for out of the cabinet. Stiffening, she moved forward, pressing herself into the counter to put more room between them. Pissed, he put the plates on the counter and circled his arms around her, pulling her tight against him. He was tired of being punished for this shit. She was going to have to get over it.
“I want to talk to you after dinner. Leave Alexa with Joan,” He said, giving her a tight squeeze before releasing her and stepping back.
He shook his head in frustration when she just stood there, so he turned and walked out of the kitchen before he blew. This was a conversation they needed to have in private. This was between them. He wasn’t going to live like this. He wanted back the woman he first met. The one who glared at him and told him to fuck off. The woman willing to slice eight guys to pieces because they hurt her friend. The passionate woman who had shared his bed. Her, that woman, he wanted back, and tonight he was going to get her or die trying.
Calling Sal over, Lucca told him to send one of the guys out to pick him up the things he needed for tonight. Rattling off his list, Lucca swore Sal looked relieved. Telling him to fuck off when he smiled, Lucca turned and headed upstairs to grab a quick shower, hoping he was doing the right thing. He had never been unsure about any decision he had ever made—right or wrong, it was his—but with her, he seemed to be second guessing himself since the day she walked into his life.
Chapter 30
Laying Alexa down in her crib, Angie watched her little chest rise and fall. It was the most beautiful thing in the world. With every breath she took, she told her there was at least one good thing in this world. Angie didn’t want to leave Alexa. She wanted to stay right here and not face what was waiting in the room down the hall. She didn’t want to face Lucca to tell him it was over. That she wouldn’t have a marriage in name only. That she deserved more. When had she become such a coward? The old her would have walked in there and demanded what was hers. Demanded he forget what he had seen on those videos that night, demanded he forget Enzo’s henchman’s words and accept her. Instead of standing here, knowing she was going to leave without a fight.
The longer she stood looking down at her baby the angrier she became. Nothing in life had ever been easy for her. Why the hell should she make it easy for him? She had started a new life, a good life, and the bastard had come demanding she was his, knocking it aside. Well, now he was stuck with her. She wouldn’t be pushed aside. Leaving Joan’s room, Angie went to hers. It was time he remembered what he had been willing to start a war to have. Ripping into her closet, she tore through it until he found what she was looking for. Smiling evilly, she took out the dress and set it on the bed. Going to the drawer, she pulled out some lingerie that would make him choke on his tongue. He wanted a war? Well, he was going to get it, and she wasn’t taking any prisoners.
Exactly forty-five minutes later, she stared in the mirror, admiring her work. Perfect, if she did say so herself. Sliding on her six-inch, fuck-me heels, she smiled because that was exactly what she expected him to be doing tonight. Going before she lost her courage, she went out her door and into the hall. Moving quickly, she reached Lucca’s door. Not bothering to knock, she walked in and closed the door behind her. Frozen, he stayed right there. The room was lit by candlelight. Blinking, she looked around slowly until her eyes locked on his shadow-covered form by the balcony. Standing as still as a deer caught in a car’s headlights, Angie watched him step from the shadows, revealing eyes that burned with lust as they raked over her body. They seared her, causing her blood to burn with need. With slow, unhurried movements, he came to her, not stopping until his body was flush with hers, pressing it into the unforgiving door behind her.
Hard, firm, sure hands pressed into her body, roaming, conquering. Lips met hers in unyielding strength, letting her know without words who was in control. Fire burned its way through her with each thrust of his tongue. Dominated, she craved more, needed more. The hands she moved to touch him with were slammed into the door, held there brutally by one of his, while the other gave a sharp tug to her hair in punishment for moving. She could feel the anger and rage moving through him, as if he believed she moved to deny him what was his. Sharp teeth nipped at her lip before he took his mouth away. His breath fanned her face. Struggling, she opened her eyes to gaze into his. What she saw made her moan. Squeezing her legs together earned her a sharp tug at her hair before it was released. Her knees were pried open, his leg going firmly between her open legs, pressing hard to her center. Liquid raced from her core, ripping another moan from her throat. He was punishing her, the pressure keeping her so primed she wanted to weep. She needed more. Rocking her hips forward, she gushed at the friction, her eyes rolling back into her head. One more time. Just once more. An angry hiss left him at her movement. The source of her pleasure and pain removed itself as angry hands released her, only to drive hard into her hair. She was liquid in his hands, easily moved when he stepped back, denying her his body, and shoved her to her knees.
With one hand her kept firm hold of her hair, tilting her head back so she had to gaze up at him. Ruthless satisfaction was there in his face at her position. Giving a sharp jerk to her hair when her eyes started to droop, he forced her to hold his gaze. “Whatever I want, you will do. Whatever I need, you will provide. You belong to me and only to me,” he growled, taking his free hand to her face. He pressed hard on her chin, forcing her slightly open mouth wide. Pushing her head down, he kept his hands firm as he shoved himself into her mouth. On and on it went, going deep i
nto her throat. She wanted to pull back, but his firm grip kept her still, forcing her to take it until he finally relented and pulled back until its head touched her lips. Raising her eyes back to his, she watched as his lust grew darker. Moving her hands only angered him. Shoving back in deep, he left it there longer, causing her to gasp for breath when he pulled back to her lips. “You keep your fucking hands on your thighs. I’ll tell you when to touch me.” He chucked darkly, turning her on even more. Liquid gushed from her, causing his nose to flare, as if he scented it. The look he gave her had her whimpering. It was the last sound she would make for a long while. He attacked her mouth with vigor, shoving in and out, making noises in his throat as she played him with her teeth and tongue.
Her jaw was sore by the time he finally pulled free and shoved her to her hands and knees. Climbing behind her, he gripped her neck and pushed her head down until it touched the floor. “Stay.” Releasing her, he pushed her dress up, and she felt cold steel slide along her hip. Tensing, she waited, shuddering when she felt it slice through her thong. Exposed, she sat there and waited, each moment that passed marked by her increasing breaths, until he finally gave her what she needed. Hard flesh pushed into her soft center, opening her wide for the invasion. It seemed to go on forever, until it finally stopped, going so deep that she moaned in pain-filled pleasure. The spot he touched caused small shudders to rake her body. As he just sat there, she became desperate, needing more. Before she could move a muscle, he gripped her hips tight, holding her captive. Taking the warning for what it was, she pressed her forehead down and held herself still. When he felt the bruising grip on her hips lessen, she knew she’d done the right thing. Slow, long strokes were the reward for her obedience. Slow, long strokes that threatened to drive her insane with want. The want of something more. Something hard. Something deep. Tears left her eyes as her frustration mounted. Sure hands left her hips and ran up her back, around to cup her breasts. Pulling her back, he kneaded her breasts as he sat them up, still buried deep. Guiding her. In and out he went, as his lips gently touched her shoulder and made their way to her ear. “Who do you belong to?” he whispered sinfully. “Tell me who you belong to.” Longing filled her at those whispered words. Longing to belong to someone and have someone who belonged solely to her. It was with those thoughts scattered through her lust-filled mind that she answered him. “You; I belong to you,” Angie said in defeat. Defeated because she knew that she would stay with him. Even if he only kept her out of duty or pity, she would stay. Pride the only thing that she held dear meant nothing to her if she could not have him.
Angelica (The Family Book 1) Page 17