by Alexa Hart
“I picked them out myself! They match your dress from the Christmas play! You looked soooo pretty that night, Miss Greene!” Gia was bubbling out information, and I suddenly thought my blush might match my gift. A side glance at Marcello found him grinning and pursing his lips together to stop what I knew was self-satisfied laughter. He had seemingly liked that dress, as well.
The eloquent meal had been catered in by God knows which outrageously expensive company. Marta had the day completely off. Marcello mentioned that most often Marta joined them for the holiday celebrations, as she really was family. Apparently, her sister had flown in to surprise her this Christmas, and they were off galivanting around the city together.
I couldn’t quite imagine Marta’s elderly personage “galivanting” anywhere, but the thought made me smile.
The day absolutely flew by. Gia had a million things to show me and tell me and ask me. Marcello happily observed, occasionally joining in, and his demeanor was so overwhelmingly pleased that I began to forget everything else. The tears, the mafia, Rossi, Charlie, Felicity – did any of it really matter when we were in our own magical world together?
Marcello put Gia to bed himself late that evening while I sat in the darkened living room staring dreamily at the glowing Christmas tree lights. I hadn’t realized I was dozing until a gentle hand on my shoulder woke me up.
“No sleeping just yet, Miss Greene,” he whispered, tenderly pulling me to my feet and putting a hand against my sleepy cheek. “I feel like we might have one last round of gift exchanging to do.” He smiled, confident and charming as ever, and I grinned calmly. The holiday certainly wasn’t over yet.
He led me sweetly to the exact same room as that first time. I paid slightly more attention as we delved deeper into the house, realizing it all seemed vaguely familiar. Once inside, Marcello shut the door and turned to me, charcoal eyes burning.
“Do you know why I chose this room for us, Abby?”
I shook my head, dazed.
“It’s never been used before. Ever. By anyone. It always seemed too grand for a guest room. It seemed too grand for anyone, really. Until you.” He walked to me slowly, hands in his pants pockets, looking casual and delicious simultaneously. “Now it’s Abby’s room. And wonderful things seem to happen in Abby’s Room.”
He smiled widely, winking at me and looking hungry now, and gently tugged at my fingers, leading me to that same four poster bed that had started all of this. He began to undress me, carefully and calmly, as he had that night. I felt like my insides were actually vibrating with sweet expectation.
I gingerly climbed on the bed, completely naked and wet with anticipation, while he undressed himself. I had a small, hungry grin on my face watching every heavenly contoured, muscle-bound part of his body become bare.
If I were a painter, I would only paint him. Over and over and over...
He was swollen – ready. Merry Christmas to me. Yet he still seemed to pace himself, advancing stealthily until he was directly over me, our entire bare bodies touching and bracing for intense pleasure.
“Abby. The last time... at the school...” he spoke very quietly, staring into my eyes and seeming to see straight into my soul. “You make me insane. That was insane.” He smiled, as though insanity had become his new favorite past time. “You need to know that I – “
I stopped breathing. He seemed to hesitate, fighting some inner battle that just barely shone through his eyes.
“This,” he slid into me then, slowly but strong, and so large I gasped loudly at the welcome intrusion. “This is how I feel about you.”
What came next could only be described as love making. Some godly combination of tenderness and ferocity made every kiss, every grasp, every thrust a euphoric paradise meant only for us – for our bodies. I felt like we had elevated to a different reality where bliss was all that existed or mattered. Strong hands held me solidly pressed to him while passion took away our breath and animalistic need took away our minds. Little “oh’s” that escaped my lips with every strike of his surging, enlarged attacks became louder and louder until I was sure I was just going to exist in a world of screaming and ecstasy forever and ever...
We came together. Every dripping, stimulated piece of my flesh felt the rush of flowing pearly cream filling my insides. My body greedily latched tighter and tighter, taking everything Marcello could possibly have to give with a violent need and possessed aggression. His final growling groan overtook everything and we both collapsed, exhausted and exultant.
After a few minutes of silence and panting, Marcello reached for something on the bedside table, and gently dropped a tiny box onto my bare stomach. I looked at him, confused.
“I may have had one small surprise left,” he admitted, grinning. “Open it.”
I was nervous now – but pleasantly nervous. I had never been great with surprises and even worse at receiving gifts. I carefully undid the miniature bow that held the box together, and took the lid off. Inside was the unmistakable shape of a jewelry box. I pulled it out slowly, protesting now. “Marcello, you already gave me the earrings – I don’t – ”
He put a finger to my lips, smiling and patient. “Abby. Just open it.”
I popped it apart, and saw a glittering ruby necklace – that perfectly matched the earrings – sparkling inside. I looked at him with wide eyes. He simply continued to smile, and pulled the necklace delicately from its encasement, putting it gently around my neck and fastening it with deft fingers. He leaned back in satisfaction, staring at the gem that lay just above my incredibly bare breasts.
“Perfection,” he stated with authority, as though his word was the final judgment on the matter. He locked eyes with me then, seeming intense and suddenly slightly dark. I tensed a little, unsure as to what had brought about this mood change. “Abby,” he began, running fingers heatedly across my breasts as he spoke. “I want you to wear this. Always.”
I raised an eyebrow, nearly ready to giggle but caught the stern look on his face.
“I want you to wear this always. Do you understand?” And now he seemed altered, more animal than human, commanding me with his gaze.
I swallowed. “Yes, okay. Yes. I’ll wear it.”
He grabbed me around the neck and kissed me passionately, surprising me with the aggressive action and stimulating my entire body in an instant. I responded hungrily, as if we hadn’t already been in bed for an hour and I had all the energy in the world. He pulled back, keeping me pinned down with one strong hand still firmly around my neck. “Always. Say you’ll wear it always.”
“Always...” I murmured, heated now and beginning to feel delirious and greedy. His dark eyes were those deep abysses again, and to anyone else, they probably would have seemed terrifying. They simply made me crazy.
“You’re mine,” he said, almost angrily. He kissed my forehead, flipped me over with infuriated vehemence, and proceeded to give me an extreme, ruthless fucking that almost screamed of his ownership.
I had never been happier.
Chapter 12
I had exactly one week to prepare for what I realized would be our first official date. It seemed odd considering Marcello and I knew every single inch of each other – literally – already. But it was exciting all the same, and I felt myself growing nervous just as though it were a New Year’s Eve blind date with a stranger.
Underneath all of the happiness, I couldn’t deny that there were still so many concerns. Every time I thought of Charlie my stomach turned, and I wondered just what he did sacrifice to warn me about Rossi. I felt guilty and responsible for whatever fate he had faced. The guilt grew when I thought about the fact that I hadn’t even taken his high-priced advice. Not at all.
He had been right about Rossi. I knew that in my gut. Just thinking about that big man’s black eyes and all-knowing voice sent shivers through my body. I wanted to talk to Marcello about it. I just didn’t know how. Rossi was his father, for better or worse, and his employer. Rossi’s “c
areer” was no secret to Marcello.
It still ate at me that Rossi hadn’t told Marcello the truth behind his parents’ or Celia’s death, but it didn’t change anything. Security was already beyond top grade. The only result I could see from bringing it up to Marcello would be putting him in more emotional pain than he already was every day of his life.
And things were going so well. It was finally starting to seem like we could have a semi-normal relationship in spite of everything else. Why would I want to ruin that? It had taken all this time to establish just the beginnings of what I hoped we would have. I knew that bubble would pop in a fast minute if I were to try to speak of the things I had been told.
I did not want to let this go. I needed Marcello at this point as much as I needed oxygen to breathe. And in a strange way, I actually felt safer knowing I was probably being watched 24/7. Rossi might have instantly hated my guts, but he would protect me at all costs to protect Marcello. On top of whatever security Marcello himself had set up, I felt more than a little shielded from any harm that could ever come my way.
I almost felt invincible. And with that a strange new sensation of power had crept into my mind that was both invigorating and liberating.
So, I’m dating a guy in the mafia. Suddenly, I had the mafia looking out for me, and it seemed a bit more reassuring than getting a guard dog or carrying mace in my purse.
Marcello was happy. I knew it, witnessed it, and had felt it so strongly. Gia was happy – sweet little Gia who meant so much to me as to start this entire thing. And I was fucking happy.
I had even managed to come to terms with the criminal aspect of the situation. Rossi was a criminal. Marcello was a lawyer. So, he defended criminals. How many thousands of defense lawyers did that every day all across the country? It was his job. It was not him.
I was aware that a part of me hoped, someday – somehow, that Marcello could completely extricate himself from Rossi’s dealings. I was even more aware that the likelihood of that ever happening was very, very low.
All of that aside, I was more than sure that I was in love with Marcello Morano. Nothing could change that now.
I had always detested shopping malls. The only thing that had ever seemed to make them tolerable was when Felicity went with me. Somehow it turned the entire experience into a series of entertaining events.
But Felicity wasn’t with me today. I hadn’t heard from her since telling her to “get out” of my classroom. I didn’t blame her. But I did miss her. I just didn’t know how we could possibly repair our friendship with Marcello still being very much a part of my life. Aside from her opinion that he was “a piece of shit”, Felicity had been on point with all of her other concerns. I knew this. I just didn’t know how to get through to her that it didn’t matter anymore.
I was all in. There was no going back from that.
So here I was, contemplating a Cinnabon alone in the food court, preparing to splurge far more than I ever had on my outfit for this upcoming first date (savings accounts are overrated, right?), and desperately wishing Fel was here to crack jokes and make the throngs of people seem less overwhelming.
“Abby!” I heard my name called out cheerfully over the din of the crowd. I turned abruptly, scanning faces until I saw Alex waving a hand and grinning.
“Alex!” I returned, smiling and overly relieved to see a familiar face amongst the madness. Alexander Thomas was Winston’s fifth grade teacher, and he had long been a favorite for his easy-going nature. Any kindness to balance out the stuffy, rigid parents that kept our paychecks coming was more than welcome amongst the Winston faculty.
He made his way to me, grinning widely, balancing several shopping bags and a sleeve of Sbarro breadsticks. “Guess it’s snack time for everybody, huh?” He nodded toward the pastry in my hand.
I shrugged. “Anything to make the mall less obnoxious.” We exited the food court, leaving behind the worst of the noise, and fell into step walking casually past storefront after storefront.
“Big purchaser today, eh?” He laughed, referring to my still bagless personage.
“Ha. Taking my time,” I said, hoping I didn’t start blushing at the immediate thought of my reason for being at the mall that day. “How about you? Did you forget Christmas or something?” Change the subject. Quickly.
Alex laughed loudly. “Pretty sure my kids would have murdered me if that were the case. Nah. Just have the in-laws coming in for a little late Christmas extravaganza. The wife sent me here with a list. If she weren’t eight months pregnant, she never would have gotten away with that one.” He laughed again, and I mentally sympathized with his plight.
In-laws can be tricky.
The store I wanted was only a little way down, so I stopped abruptly at a candle shop. “This is me! Need any candles?” I tried to act nonchalant, knowing I didn’t need any fucking candles myself.
Alex gestured to a bag. “Already covered that one.” He nodded in the direction of a bohemian gift shop. “That’s my next stop.”
I raised an eyebrow, giggling. Poor Alex. “Well enjoy your family! I’ll see you after the new year!” I offered a hug, and he returned it warmly, if not awkwardly, while handling his multiple purchases clumsily.
In the split second that I had embraced Alex, I saw a man begin walking towards us very quickly. He was dressed in normal jeans and a sweater, but his face was not normal. Serious. Stern. And moving in quickly.
I released Alex in alarm, and the man instantly stopped short.
“Bye, Abby,” Alex called, already walking away.
The man now seemed disinterested entirely, loitering around a coin fountain as though I didn’t exist and he hadn’t just been approaching like a very determined jet plane. I made my way somewhat frantically to the boutique up ahead, and was soon surrounded by silk, over-attentive sales ladies, and price tags. Emerging an hour later – plus one gorgeous dress and minus a painful amount of money – I wasted no time summoning an Uber and getting out of the mall as fast as my feet could carry me.
The anonymous gentleman was nowhere to be seen.
This time there was absolutely no holding back when Marcello called. He listened patiently, seemingly undisturbed. When I had finished my near hysteric account of the day’s events, he calmly said, “I know.”
“You know? You know? What does that even mean?” I knew I was nearly yelling at this point, but the confusion mixed with the remaining fear from the day had pushed me slightly too far.
“It was a misunderstanding, Abby,” Marcello’s collected voice didn’t falter in the slightest.
“A misunderstanding? What are you talking about?” I was angry now. Infuriated.
“My men have strict orders if anyone comes near you – to move in quickly and sever the risk posed to you without question.”
“THE RISK POSED TO ME?” Now I was definitely yelling.
“They realized quite late that it was simply Mr. Thomas. They are quite familiar with Mr. Thomas. As I said. It was a misunderstanding,” Marcello was truly indulging me at this point. His voice was even and his tone kind.
“They?” I was coming down from my hysteria, but I was still angry. I felt wronged, and I couldn’t even articulate why.
“Abby,” he sighed. “You must know at this point that you are under rather tight security. Always. Did you not know this?”
“I had suspected, yes,” I admitted, knowing I had more than suspected. I knew.
“I am sorry if it feels intrusive. I am,” Marcello offered. “But it isn’t open to debate. I will protect you, Abby. With or without your approval.”
I wanted to protest, but the relief that was washing over me now that I knew that random asshole at the very least hadn’t intended to hurt me was making me soften. Safe. I was quite safe.
And what about Alex? What exactly does “severing the risk posed” entail? What almost happened to him?
It certainly wasn’t the first, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last time that I felt
my privacy was not my own anymore. I breathed deeply, reminding myself that this was how Marcello kept his own sanity. He had to protect what he held dear. He could not lose another thing that he loved.
And does he love you?
He interrupted my thoughts then with a random query. “Abby, were you wearing your necklace today?”
My face went quizzical, but he couldn’t see that. “Of course. Yes. Yes, I was. I’m wearing it now,” I answered truthfully.
“Good,” was his simple reply. A small pause, and then, “Do you often hug Mr. Thomas, Abby?”
“Alex? I mean... no. Not often. I don’t know – I’ve never even thought about – ”
“I would prefer that you didn’t,” Marcello inserted, stopping me short.
“Why?” Some strange mixture of rebellion and twisted pleasure was brewing inside of me.
“Because you’re mine.”
Marcello had to leave town for business the last three days leading up to our date. He assured me he would be back in plenty of time to meet me for our reservations at the pricey and elitist Crystal On Top restaurant. It was a rather exclusive place that I’d really only ever heard of, located at the top of one of the skyscrapers downtown in the city.
Harrison had strict instructions to pick me up at 8:00 sharp, allowing us to make it through traffic with plenty of spare time for the 9:00 reservation. He was to safely deposit me at the door of the restaurant, but I didn’t believe for a moment that there wasn’t awaiting security also inside that door. Possibly they were scattered throughout the tables like normal patrons enjoying their heavily overpriced meals. Perhaps they were the waitstaff. For all I knew, Marcello had reserved the entire restaurant for the evening. He could own the fucking place and I wouldn’t know.
But I didn’t ask.
I prepared myself for the night with diligent attention to detail. My hair was down, the way Marcello preferred it, with a few wavy curls spread throughout. My makeup was dramatic – much more so than he had ever seen on me thus far. It screamed sexy, but I still hoped it wasn’t too much. Abigail Greene was not used to commanding attention from the general public for her physical appearance. I had regretted my red dress choice for the Christmas play immediately when I realized the appraising stares it was garnering from the fathers... and the hateful glares that accompanied them from their wives.