Blood Always

by Ramsower, Jill

  What the hell did I say? I hardly knew Matteo. He was ruthless in business, liked to fuck hard, and he collected watches. I didn’t think any of those answers would suffice.

  “I like that he doesn’t apologize for who he is. What you see is what you get. I think the world would be a much better place if everyone could be more like that.”

  Nona lifted her chin and stuck out her bottom lip with approval and pride in her grandson. “That doesn’t make him easy to get along with. Sometimes, my Tito can be bull-headed.” Not a question, but still a challenge.

  “Fortunately, I am, too. If he needs to be put in his place, I’m more than up for the task.” I held her critical gaze as she continued to stir.

  “Yes,” she finally said. “I think I like you. The food is ready, let’s eat.” She was the most no-nonsense woman I’d ever met, and I was pretty sure her feelings toward me were mutual.

  I glanced at Mia, whose eyes were wide. She shrugged, and we both choked on a laugh. Women tended to annoy me, but I liked Mia. It was a strange but exhilarating feeling. Maybe we could even be … friends?

  We spent the next two hours in easy conversation ranging from the kids’ activities to the upcoming presidential election and my personal favorite, embarrassing stories about the De Luca boys when they were kids. I was almost reticent to go when Matteo received a call about business he needed to attend to.

  “I’ve got to head out. There’s something that needs my attention. You want to stay here, and I’ll grab you when I’m done?” He spoke softly just to me, and I appreciated the consideration. He could have announced to the group he was leaving, without giving me any options.

  “Actually, if I have a choice, I’d like to go with you.”

  “I can’t guarantee it’s going to be pretty. You sure you’re okay with that?”

  The smile that split my face had to have been a touch deranged, but to Matteo’s credit, he just huffed out a laugh. “All right. Get your purse.” He turned to where his grandmother sat in a rocking chair. “Nona, the food was amazing, as always, but we have to head out.”

  “You going over to Frank’s?” Filip interjected, eyes narrowed.

  “Yeah.”

  “And you’re taking her with you?”

  “I am,” Matteo responded gruffly. “You have an issue with that?”

  Filip’s eyes danced between the two of us before he lifted his hands in retreat. “Whatever you say, Boss.”

  Mia jumped up and pulled me into another affectionate hug. That was two more hugs than I normally had in a whole month in my old life. We all said our goodbyes, and Matteo led me out to the car.

  “I actually really enjoyed that,” I admitted once we were on our way.

  “Did you think you wouldn’t?”

  “I didn’t know what to expect. And yes, family time hasn’t always been my favorite, but you have a great family.”

  “There’s nothing more important in this world than family—be it blood or otherwise.” His voice was firm, showing he believed those words to be absolute gospel. He wasn’t talking for the sake of talking, and he wasn’t blowing smoke up my ass. Matteo would give his life for his family, and I respected that because I was the same.

  It only took us five minutes to get to our destination. Matteo led me inside a small warehouse in an abandoned neighborhood where bricks crumbled from buildings under the burden of poverty. The lights were dim, and in one corner, three men stood around a man tied to a chair. His mouth was duct taped shut, eyes wide and frantic.

  This was going to be fun.

  I stayed in the background, just outside the circle of men. This was not my business, and I wasn’t going to make it mine just because Matteo allowed me to come.

  Knowing business had a way of coming up, even in inopportune times, Matteo had worn slacks and a dress shirt to the family dinner. Something about a man in shorts and sandals just wouldn’t be quite as impressive. And that’s what this was—a show of power and intimidation.

  “Jonesy, you’re late. Again. I told you what would happen if you were late one more time.” Matteo reached out and yanked the tape from the man’s mouth, tossing it to the ground and casually crossing his arms over his broad chest.

  “I’ll have the money tomorrow, Mr. De Luca. I swear. Please, just don’t hurt me.” The man’s sniveling was pathetic.

  The general public assumed mobsters were heartless pigs, but we were businessmen just like any other. We outlined our expectations clearly and preferred no one get hurt in our dealings. Guys like Jonesy defaulting on their agreements didn’t put food on our tables. The thing is, we dealt with low lives that no one else would deal with. Those people, they don’t speak the same language as everyone else. The only thing that makes an impression is violence. Fists and blood—they were just a part of our conversations. If pinky promises and IOUs got the job done, it would make our lives that much easier. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Men like Jonesy had to be reminded of their mortality before they found the wherewithal to hold up their end of a bargain.

  “Tomorrow isn’t what we agreed to. This is the third time, Jonesy. Three strikes and you’re out. You knew that. How do you think that makes us look if we let people borrow money from us and not pay it back?” Matteo appeared unhurried and entirely unmoved. There wasn’t a hint of moisture on his brow nor the slightest tremor to his movements. He was perfectly in his element, and it was a joy to watch.

  “P-p-p-please, sir. If you get your money, that’s what matters, right? I’ll have it for you—I swear to Christ. Please, just give me one more day.”

  Matteo’s gaze drifted over to me, and that unspoken connection between us flared to life. “Your lack of consideration has interrupted my evening with my wife. She’s far more important to me than your worthless dog shit existence, so we’re going to keep this short and sweet. I’ll let you walk out of here tonight, but you have until noon tomorrow to deliver.”

  “Thank you, Mr.—”

  Matteo’s fist cut off his words with a satisfying crunch. The man wailed, and blood gushed onto his shirt from what had to be a broken nose.

  Matteo didn’t miss a beat, wiping his hand with a rag on a nearby box and nodding to his men. “Teach him a lesson before he goes.” He ushered me out of the warehouse and drove us back to his apartment without a hint of frustration or anger. His actions were purely business. The scene hadn’t stirred his emotions, thus, there was no irritation to bleed into his personal life. He was cool indifference in an expensive suit, and I’d never seen anything sexier in my life.

  This time, it was my turn to take what I wanted. The second we walked through our apartment door, I pressed him against the wall and pulled his mouth to mine. I could almost taste the musty desperation from the warehouse in his kiss, and it made me wild with need.

  “My girl likes a little violence, does she?” he purred between kisses. The gold flecks in his eyes sparked with power. I wasn’t the only one who was invigorated by a little bloodshed.

  My fingers fumbled with his belt until he shoved them away. Matteo unclasped the buckle and slid the leather from around his waist. His intense stare never wavered from mine.

  “Hold out your hands.” His voice was as gruff and as affected as I’d ever heard it, just adding more kindling to the lust flaming in my core.

  I offered up my wrists, watching heatedly as he secured them with the belt. When my gaze flicked back up to his, my knees nearly buckled from the raw desire naked in his features.

  “I want you to suck me with those sweet lips of yours.”

  There was no hesitation. I desperately wanted to please him. To see the powerful man before me succumb to my ministrations.

  My knees dropped to the floor.

  Matteo withdrew his cock, fully engorged with thick veins from tip to base. He stroked himself slowly, then reached out to place his hand behind my head and pulled me to him. I kept my hands down, understanding his intent that this moment was for my lips and his coc
k without any other distractions.

  When he bobbed the warm red head against my lips, I pursed them and darted my tongue out for a tiny lick. Matteo hissed, tightening his grip in my hair.

  “Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this from the second I saw those fuckable lips of yours.” He pressed against my lips, demanding entry. I was only too happy to oblige.

  I hollowed out my mouth and sucked him deep, reveling in his resulting groan. I wasn’t sure pinning Tamir in one of our sessions was ever as satisfying as drawing such uninhibited sounds from Matteo. Like getting the lion to purr and expose his pale belly. It made me feel incredible. Powerful. Incomparable.

  I alternated licking up his full length and swallowing him down to the back of my throat. Spit soaked my chin, but I couldn’t care less because what I was giving him was exactly what he wanted. Needed.

  Matteo’s hand guided my head, ever present with his touch, but never forced me beyond my power to pull away. He let me control the pace, only pulling himself from my grasp when his breath was ragged, and legs strained with the need to come.

  “Enough. I need to fuck you now.” He pulled me to my feet, undoing my pants and yanking them off me but leaving my hands bound. Before his own pants fell to the floor, he pulled out a condom and quickly sheathed himself.

  In one easy movement, he lifted me into his arms and pressed me against the wall. I wrapped my legs around his waist and placed my bound hands behind his neck just in time for him to sink himself inside me. We both gasped as I welcomed his brutality and ruthlessness into my body. I wanted all of him. Not just the structured businessman. I wanted the criminal and all the secrets and lies that came with him.

  Matteo fucked me until I thought I would hyperventilate from the orgasm clambering to burst from my core out to my fingers and toes.

  “Come for me, little lynx. Show me how much you love my cock inside you.”

  Who was I to disobey?

  My body burst into sensation, wringing my muscles dry as they clenched to survive the onslaught of pleasure. Tears leaked from my eyes—the overflow of bliss too much for my body to contain. It flooded from my nerves, wrapping my entire body in a cocoon of warmth—branding my heart in a way that assured I’d never be the same.

  ***

  The following morning, we drove back to the Hamptons where we stayed for the next three weeks. Our lives developed a rhythm. An ebb and flow of learning and exploration—who we were, what we liked, what we didn’t like. Matteo hated eggs and put salt on his cantaloupe. I thought that was disgusting, but I was an Italian who hated olives, so who was I to judge?

  We worked most days in our separate offices and spent the evenings together cooking dinner and enjoying the fall weather while overlooking the vast ocean. Neither of us pushed for answers to deep, personal questions. Our time together was simple, but somehow, that much more intimate. We were experiencing one another rather than collecting information.

  I learned quickly that Matteo preferred to work out early in the morning, which meant I woke most mornings alone in our bed. That worked perfectly for me because it gave me a chance to wake up without the harassment of someone trying to talk to me. I’d never been much of a morning person. My family knew not to approach me until I’d had at least one cup of coffee, if not two.

  We had no plans for the day, which meant I had more time than normal to luxuriate in the soft embrace of our bed. But at some point, slivers of mid-morning sun peaked in from the edges of the heavy drapes, telling me I needed to get my ass out of bed.

  I rolled myself off the bed, and the minute my body was upright, I had to bolt for the bathroom, hand plastered over my mouth to keep my stomach from unloading all over the carpet. I made it just in time before the little bit of food remaining from the night before came back up.

  The episode didn’t last long, thank God. I wiped my face and took a drink straight from the faucet to clear the aftertaste from my mouth. My stomach had been uneasy all week, but that was the first time anything had come of it. I wiped my mouth on the hand towel next to the sink and paused as I met my own eyes in my reflection.

  A cascade of chills rocked my body as electric panic shocked my system.

  September—it was mid-September. When did I last have my period? About two weeks before the wedding, which was August tenth, so it had been six weeks.

  Oh, shit.

  I was two weeks late.

  I gaped at the suddenly unrecognizable figure staring back at me in the mirror. My breathing stuttered and faltered along with the unsteady beat of the floundering ball of muscle in my chest.

  It couldn’t be.

  We’d used protection.

  My cycle was always perfectly regular, but I’d been under an enormous amount of stress. That had to be it. I nodded to myself, reining in my growing panic. The issue was easy to resolve—I would run to the drug store, confirm that it was all a result of bumbling body chemistry, and get back to my day.

  I was so shaken that I completely forgot about coffee and went straight from my closet to the car. Twenty minutes later, I was back home and staring at the two pink lines glowing brightly on each of the three tests I’d taken.

  Then, I threw up again.

  Pregnant. I’d gotten myself pregnant with a child. An innocent, vulnerable child I had no clue how to care for. I had sworn to myself I would never let this happen. I was not made for raising children. Terror of the responsibility of such a task cast a heavy net over my head and dragged me down until my knees began to give out.

  In a haze of shock and horror, I hid the tests down in the trashcan and stumbled back to bed. I hid from the truth, curled up in a protective ball with blankets of denial and shock draped over me. My mind shut down. I didn’t allow the information to sink in or consider the briefest glimpse of what motherhood might look like.

  I simply drifted.

  When Matteo came back from his workout and found me in bed, I told him I wasn’t feeling well. My voice was sufficiently lifeless that he didn’t need to question my statement. He brought me a bottle of water and some toast, kissing my forehead before going to work in his office.

  I lay there for hours, unable to think. Unable to feel anything but crimpling fear.

  I had to escape.

  I had to find a way out.

  By dinner time, I’d reached a conclusion and was sitting on the edge of the bed when Matteo came to check on me.

  “You doing better? I threw together some pasta if you want to try to eat.”

  I didn’t answer him. My lips were laden with glue, holding them firmly together. My eyes bore into a spot in the carpet not far from my bare feet.

  “Maria, you okay?” Sensing something was far worse than an upset stomach, Matteo’s voice wavered with uncertainty.

  His concern didn’t tug at my heart or cause my conviction to waiver. I was more convinced than ever that my chosen course of action was the only way. Steeling myself for the war I was sure to start, I met his stare with every ounce of strength I could muster.

  “I’m pregnant, and I’m going to get rid of it.”

  Like a shrapnel grenade exploding in the room, my statement shredded everything in sight. I felt the brutal pain of each tiny missile lodge themselves in my flesh. Matteo’s entire body rocked backward, blood blossoming from invisible wounds.

  “The fuck?” Two words, barely above a whisper, but they rang in my ears, deafening and laden with disgust.

  Somewhere down deep, I broke from the pain of his disapproval. But I’d had to bury all of my emotions to protect myself. To do what was needed to keep myself safe. Maria the Protector was in charge, and nothing could hurt her. She didn’t flinch at his words or cower beneath his stare. She said what needed to be said and waited for the fallout.

  She watched dispassionately as a wall of reinforced concrete slammed into place between me and Matteo. She breathed evenly as he stormed forward and grabbed my chin roughly. Her cold gaze met the raging fire in his eyes without a single shive
r.

  “That’s my child, too. You abort that baby, and I’ll kill you.” He yanked his hand away as if my filth was contagious then stormed from the room.

  I stood robotically and rounded up my things. A few pairs of clothes. A toothbrush. My purse. Then deposited them on the floor of a guest bedroom and closed the door. As I walked to the bed, large chunks of my armor broke free, tumbling to the carpet and leaving me raw and exposed. By the time I made it under the covers, I was little more than a delicate clam without its shell.

  The black cloud above my head finally rained down heartbreak. Sheets of remorse and anguish drenched me to the bone. Fat droplets of shame and grief pelted my body until the emotional waters were too much for me to bear.

  My consciousness drifted to a place I hadn’t been in a long time. A place without hurt or fear. A place where nothing could touch me, and no one could find me. It wasn’t my happy place, because in that realm, there were no emotions. Just the nothing.

  Chapter 16

  Matteo

  Maria was gone. She left the next morning without a word, and I figured it was for the best. Even twenty-four hours after her bombshell, I couldn’t guarantee what I’d do or say if I saw her.

  I didn’t sleep that night until the sun tiptoed near the horizon the next morning. Even then, I only crashed for a few hours before the ugly truth of reality caught up with me again.

  Maria was pregnant, and she wanted to abort our baby.

  What the actual fuck?

  I’d been completely blindsided. Maybe I hadn’t handled the situation well, but my reaction was visceral. That was my child she wanted to kill—at least I assumed it was my child. I hadn’t even planned to necessarily have kids, but something about knowing it was there, living inside her. Fuck. All that went out the window.

  I would do anything to protect my kid.

  What the hell was she thinking?