Page 51 of Shot For Mercy

Alessandro grins. “I’ll make sure of it, brother.”

Emiliano sighs. “I need to get out of here.” He rubs a hand down his face, and he looks about ten years older than his thirty-six right about now. “I’m exhausted. It’s been a long night.”

“Care to share?” Giovanni asks, frowning.

“Maybe after I’ve gotten some sleep,” Em replies. “Matteo found out. That’s all I’ll say for now.”

Amy gasps, gripping my arm tightly. I direct my attention back toward her, and her eyes are wide with what seems to be concern. “Are you okay?” she asks me.

“No.” I shake my head. “But I’ll have to be.”

“Please let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“Short of convincing him to forgive me, I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do,” I tell her with honesty. “I fucked up big time.”

“Tell me about it later?” She squeezes my arm once more, then lets go.

“Of course,” I sigh. “I’ll text you.”

“Okay,” she replies. “We’ll meet soon?”

“Yeah,” I say softly, then clear my throat. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yes,” she replies instantly, but I don’t believe her. But I’m also not going to call her out right in front of her boss. “I’ll be fine.”

“We’ll talk soon,” I tell her, and she nods, walking away from me and to an Uber waiting at the curb. I didn’t even realize they were there.

The brothers talk about rebuilding the brothel, and what’s next, for about thirty more minutes. I just stand here with Emiliano’s hand in mine as he grips me tightly. Our fingers are still interlaced, and I can’t help but think about how perfectly we fit together. No one’s ever held my hand like this before, not romantically, at least. It’s nice. It makes me feel like he cares about me. Like we’re in this together.

“Ready to go?” he finally asks me, and I nod.

We go back to the vehicle, and the ride to the penthouse goes by quickly in complete silence. Emiliano looks out the window the entire time, and I can’t see his face. I’m sure that’s probably on purpose, but once we get home, he can’t fucking avoid me. We have to talk about this.

When we finally make it to the penthouse, Emiliano gets out and leaves me behind. I run after him, suddenly feeling desperate. My chest constricts, and my hands start to shake. Is this it? Is he changing his mind? Is he choosing Matteo over me? In a way, I can’t blame him if he is. I can’t say I’ll be understanding, but I fucking get it, too. It’s his son.

“Emiliano!” I yell as he gets in the elevator, and I run in before he can shut the doors. “Don’t do this.”

“I just need time.”

“Fuck that,” I snap. “I lost him too, and I need you.”

His eyes are sad, begging me to understand, but I can’t. I need him too much. I need him to make this better—the ache in my chest that’s about to take me the fuck out. I meant what I said; he’s not the only one who lost him tonight. I fucking need him to hold me.

“Please,” I whisper just as the elevator opens and the living room comes into view. “Ineedyou.”

But Emiliano just keeps walking, headed toward his room.

“Don’t be a fucking coward!” I call after him. “It’s us now. You and me.”

He stops in place, and I follow after him until my front is to his back. I wrap my arms around his waist, tugging him closer to me until there’s no space between us, then lay my head on his shoulder. He takes a shuddering breath, and I can feel him shaking in my arms. And then I realize he’s crying. Suddenly, I’m holding him up. He’s sagging against me, and we slide down to the floor. I hold him to me. This man, who’s usually bigger than life, is broken now. He turns to straddle my lap, burying his face into the crook of my neck, and I just hold him.

Emiliano sobs into my neck, wetting my skin with his hot tears, and my eyes sting with my own. We hold each other and cry in earnest, our sobs filling the silence, and it’s cathartic as we break together. Hopefully, I’ll be enough for him. I swear to try to be. I’ll do everything in my power to deserve him, whatever it takes.

I soothe him by rubbing circles over his back, and he shakes in my arms. I’m not sure how long we stay there for, but eventually, he gets up and holds out his hand for me. I take it, and he leads us to his bed. We don’t bother with going to the bathroom or brushing our teeth. He can’t seem to part from me, and I’m just fine with that.

We climb into bed together and I take my side, burying my face into the pillow and inhaling shakily. It smells like Emiliano, and it soothes my soul. He comes closer, throwing his arm over my waist and tugging me into his strong body. He’s all hard muscles, all man. I can’t fucking get enough of it, of him. I close my eyes and try to focus on breathing. I know I won’t get any sleep, and he probably won’t either, but at least we’re together. At least I’m finally in his arms. Finally, truly his.

I’m right where I belong.

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