Page 68 of Savage Claim

Cristian huffed and adamantly kept his head down gathering up the mess. “I’m not attracted to her,” he insisted.

Except for the fact that you are, I thought. “She’s a pretty girl.”

“Emphasis on the word girl,fratellone,” he snapped back. “She’s sweet and absolutely broken. I pity her, that’s all.”

“Sure, Cris.”

He dropped the paper towel that he had been clinging to. “Jesus Christ, Enzo,” he muttered and stormed from the room.

I looked around at the mess that I had been left with.Vaffanculo.

Well, in the very least, it was quiet. I still had to talk to Damian and try to track down Alfie, but I wasn’t going to let my kitchen be left in such a state.

CHAPTER 43

Isabella

In the week following our wedding, Lorenzo was busy with Damian and Elio doing whatever errand he hadn’t wanted to talk about with me. Going to bed alone and waking up the same way was starting to weigh on me.

When I climbed into our empty bed for the fourth night in a row, I contemplated going down the hall to Gemma’s room. She and I had been in a better place this week, and even at the worst of things, she hadn’t minded sharing.

But Lorenzo would come home eventually, and he wouldn’t like to find the bed empty. I surrounded myself with pillows and tried to get comfortable; it was getting harder and harder to do. But, surprisingly, sleep tugged at me almost as soon as I laid down my head.

The tile is cold. I’m wet and sticky with something; my nose is clogged with the smell of pennies. “Stop.”

“Fuck.” There’s weight between my shoulder blades, squishing me down. What about the baby? I can’t be on my belly like this;it isn’t safe. But when I try to move, the weight pushes down even more.

I’m shaking, and I realize that my eyes aren’t open. But trying to open them is too hard, and the little bit of light that I could see makes my head feel like it’s splitting in half.

“Just do it, you fucking coward.”

Fear. I can’t breathe and struggling only adds to the weight on my back. “M’baby,” I moan, hoping they will let me shift.

They don’t. Instead, I can feel their hands on my skin. They tug up my shirt, and there’s burning. Digging. I try to scream, but I don’t even have the strength to open my mouth.

“Loren –”

“—Zo!” I jerked.

Arms wrapped around me and pulled me against a firm chest. “Dolcezza,” Lorenzo murmured, voice thick with sleep. “I’m here. You’re safe.” He murmured those words over and over again until my breathing returned to normal.

I touched my own face, wiping at the wetness on my cheeks. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

Lorenzo kissed the crown of my hair. “Don’t apologize.” He was more awake now. “Have you been having nightmares again?”

I shook my head. “No,” I assured him. “This was the first one.” Maybe that was why this one was so bad. I had gotten accustomed to restful sleep.

Still, Lorenzo blamed himself; I could tell. “I’m here,” he said again. “You can relax.” It was only words, but I found myself melting into his arms, into the soothing feeling of him breathing.

When I woke up the next morning, Lorenzo hadn’t moved an inch. I was still sprawled across his chest. He was awake, scrolling through emails on his phone. His hand ran soothingly up and down my back. “Lorenzo?”

“Morning,dolcezza,” he said. “Did you sleep better?”

I rubbed my face against him. “I did,” I mumbled. “I thought you had to be away today.”

“I do, but I pushed it back a bit.”

We got up together, and Lorenzo stayed with me all through our late breakfast. “I set up something fun for you this afternoon,” he said as Damian breezed into the kitchen, which was a sign for him to hurry up. “Amalia has my orders. Just enjoy it and relax.”

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