Page 57 of One Savage Union

Once I get my bearings, I move towards the boat.

Do I still think he’s a monster?

A month ago, that answer would have been a resounding yes. He stripped me of my environment and dreams with no warning and little explanation. He spanked my ass, disciplined me, and hurt my feelings with his cold distant demeanor. Now, I’m not so sure.

In the midst of all that, he protected me. Covered my body when we were under attack. He took me away to a safe and beautiful place where I can find refuge in the middle of a shitstorm. He pleases my body day and night, releasing any tension that’s built up and spoils me rotten by introducing me to the finer things in life.

Once I’m on the boat, I look around for a few moments and find Aria inside the dining room, throwing down on her fish sticks and French fries. Rocco is sitting on a curved ivory leather sofa built into the honey wood wall of the boat. This boat is exquisite, and no detail is left unattended. He catches my eye and gestures for me to sit next to him on the couch.

I swallow. I’m falling for him, and that’s the worst thing I can do, because I know he will never fall with me. He doesn’t want love, he wants obedience. Trying to hold a man like Rocco to something as finite as love is like chasing a waterfall. I’ll never catch him. The most I can hope for is that he will see me, dust me off, and place me back in the world with a semblance of dignity.

I need some time away from him. When he touches me, my brain short-circuits and I lose common sense. Right now, I need to call on all the common sense that my good mother instilled in me. She used to say ,Fòse moun fè sa yo pa vle fè se tankou esye plen lanmè ak wòch.Forcing people to do what they do not want to do is like trying to fill the ocean with rocks. Now I wonder if that proverb was one of her favorites because of my father. Did she try to reach him? Did he reject her?

I walk back towards the hallway. “Umm, I was just going to take a shower and get cleaned up for dinner. I’m still dirty and wet.” I close my eyes tightly,dirty and wet. I didn’t mean it like that.Rocco chuckles.

“What if I like you dirty and wet?” My cheeks warm, and I throw a look towards Aria, who isn’t paying her uncle any mind. She’s too engrossed in the ketchup mountain she’s creating for her French fries.

I turn back to him, and he shrugs with a smirk. He turns away from Aria and the maid, allowing his robe to open a bit. I make out the imprint of his large shaft through his knit trunks and curse under my breath.He’s not playing fair.“Dress insomething nice for me. We are having dinner on the boat tonight after Aria is put to bed. I have a surprise for you.”

I nod and scurry to our room to shower. I have approximately two hours, and I need to get a power nap before I deal with the sex god I'm breaking bread with tonight. A clear head, clean body, and full belly should keep my thoughts and body at bay.

20

LUCIA

The sound of music leads me to my husband. Ivory keys are playing perfectly in tune as Chopin's Second Piano Concerto fills the air. The soft tinkling is timeless, and he doesn’t miss a note. I assume he’s the one playing since he dismissed everyone else for our dinner tonight.

This must be my surprise.

I eyed the baby grand piano when I boarded the yacht earlier today. I wondered if he was the one who played it. Regardless of the answer, I never thought he would play for me. Not after the reaction I got when I asked him to play after our first dinner in Ravello.

When I turn the corner, I see him. He’s seated at the bench in a black suit with his tanned fingers deftly flying across the keys. He’s good. Rocco didn't lie when he said he was once one of the best in the world. I can believe it. This is a challenging piece to play, and he’s executing it without a misstep.

I sit down on a nearby chair and am mesmerized by his skill. He glances up at me once with warmth and approval in his eyes, and I'm glad I obeyed his dress code.

I’m wearing a sleek Black Versace silk dress with a deep V in the front that barely covers my breasts, with a backless view from behind. The high split up my right thigh is nearly indecent, but my gams look damn good in it. The dress feels special, luxurious, and ideally suited for this private concert.

Rocco’s face is awash with peace, and I realize this is his quiet space, and he rarely lets anyone in. But I’m inside his bubble, and right now I’ll do anything to stay.

When the Concerto ends, I’m sad. I was adrift with him inside the music, the way only a true musician understands. He stands and holds his hand out for me to join him at the piano bench.

“You're an amazing musician, Rocco,” I say as I walk towards him. He gestures for me to have a seat at the bench before leaning down and landing a kiss on my temple.

“Thank you,” he mutters as he joins me on the bench. “I'm no Lucia Asare Parisi, but” he shrugs and feigns deference, “I'll do. You look beautiful tonight, Lucia. Thank you for wearing the dress I selected.”

I warm under his praise, and I hate that it feels so good. I will not overthink anything tonight. Right now, I want to enjoy my husband and the fact that he thinks I'm beautiful in the dress that he picked out just for me.

“Thank you.” I inhale a deep breath as I try not to squirm under his intense gaze. He's looking at me like I'm a prize he's finally won, and I don't quite know what to do with all the attention. “So, what now? Was this my surprise?”

He nods, “Yes, it was. I rarely let anyone hear me play anymore.”

I laugh. “Yes, I figured that. But it seems like behind a piano is your happy place.”

He takes my hand and gently kisses every knuckle before speaking.

“Forgive me for how I handled things, Lucia.”

His voice is low, quiet—but it pulls my eyes to him like a tether. He stands there, shoulders broad and tense, as if the words cost him more than he wants to admit.

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