Page 151 of The Mafia's Broken Vows

“Why haven’t you spoken about Pietro Potenza since . . . that night?”

I didn’t want to bring it up initially because a self-loathing part of me was afraid he’d blame me. And then as I fell more in love with him, I just wanted him to feel comfortable enough to talk about it.

Dante raises his scarred knuckles. “But I do. Every day. And I already told you, I’m not sorry.”

I huff out a humorless laugh. “Three words, babe. Now that’s what I call succinct.” I turn his hand over, musing.

Clearly, he feels more than just ‘not sorry’ if he’s still talking to the punching bag. And he cried that night for fuck’s sake.

As if reading my mind, he places a finger under my chin and his eyes bore into mine. “Listen. Losing Pietro hurt. It probably always will. But he died protecting my entire world. You. Pietro was the most loyal soldier. And the truest friend there ever was. So I’m not sorry. I’m grateful. And, for the record, I’ve hit the gym every day since I was thirteen.”

God, how does he do that?

A few words, and he says exactly what I need to hear. Still, he gives me space to be my dramatic self, lets me process things my way, but he’s always there, solid as a rock. It’s both infuriating and perfect all at once.

I grumble. “I’m pretty sure that was still under fifty words, but okay, I get it. Just know I’m going to need at least half a million words before I’m even halfway done processing all this.”

A small smile tugs at Dante’s lips. “Sure. And I’m here for it whenever you need. Take your time.”

“Ugh. Stop doing that!”

“What?” He murmurs.

“Making me love you more. It’s sickening enough as it is.”

“I know. We’re both done for in that area.” His hand resumes stroking my thigh, but he shifts gears slightly. “Now, Aydin Sibel would be a massive help in setting up the Power Foundation. You should call her.”

My brows shoot up. “Aydin? But isn’t she banned from . . . I thought she’d be . . . I dunno . . . shot, if she got within fifty feet of me or something.” I say, still unsure of how to navigate the rules of mafia blacklists.

Dante chuckles, his touch growing more possessive. “Not if you don’t want her to be. She just can’t have personal access to any member of this family. But you can hire her on a professional level if you want. She does need another job, after all.”

“Okay,” I nod. “I suppose after being on a billionaire’s payroll for decades, a nine-to-five wouldn’t quite cut it.”

“Uh-uh.” Dante shakes his head, then buries his face in my neck.

The idea of the Power Foundation takes root in my mind. It feels right, like the next step in this new life I’ve embraced—a way to turn the darkness and pain of the past into strength, hope, and love. I think this could really work.

Dante suddenly flips me onto my belly, his hands gliding over my back and ass. His touch ignites sparks along my skin, and thoughts of the Power Foundation scatter from my head like a flock of startled birds. I can’t say I’m surprised, though—he’s been raring to fuck since the moment he opened his eyes.

He gathers my hair away from my nape, nibbling on the skin there before slipping a hand under me, sliding upwards until he’s cupping my breast. I moan into the pillow as he starts to play with my tight nipple. His nibbles turn into hard sucks, then bites, as he simultaneously pinches my nipple harder.

“Dante!” I cry, squirming against him. “Please.”

“Please, what?” He switches his attention to my other breast, his hips pinning me to the bed.

I roll my eyes. “Fuck me, duh.”

Nestled between my ass cheeks, his cock jerks, and I can’t help grinding against his hard length.

“Fuck you where?”

“Oh Lord, here we go.” I groan. When Dante gets like this, it means we could be here all morning while he edges me to within an inch of my life. “Dante . . .”

He sniggers. “Well, can you not be a little more specific? What would you like to go where?”

“What is this, a gourmet order? Just make me come all over you!”

“Really!” He stops everything he’s doing, then drops his voice to that low, dangerous register that never fails to make my pussy clench with need. “Well, since you’re so sassy-mouthed and bushy-tailed this morning, there’s this neat little trick I’d like to teach you . . .”

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