Page 98 of Claimed By the Possessive Mafia Prince
“No… thanks to Dario.”
Veronica squeezes me, then turns to Rosy. “Let’s talk about the final ceremony.”
“I think I should help,” I say.
“The only thing I want from you,” Veronica says, “is to be there for your man. No arguments. You’ve done so much already. You’ve more than earned your bonus–and then some. I’ll need you when it’s time for the big day. But for now, take some time. You’ve been through a lot.”
“So have you.”
“Yes, but I didn’t have a gun pointed at me.” The door behind us opens. “Be there for him. That’s an order.”
Dario is standing in the doorway, shirtless, with a bandage on his side. He’s holding a plastic bag, presumably with his bloody shirt inside, and he’s cleaned himself up, no more blood spatter on his body. In fact, I’m the only one with drops of blood on me, residue from where I hugged him.
I take Dario’s hand. “Let’s get some rest.”
He smiles gratefully. “That sounds perfect.”
Back in the room, I take a quick shower, then climb into his arms in bed. We’re both only wearing our underwear, but after everything, we don’t want to do anything else but hold each other. We just want to press our bodies together, feel each other’s skin, each other’s warmth.
“If he’d shot a few inches to the left,” Dario mutters, then sighs. “It makes you think. I could’ve bled out right there. Then he would’ve had you.” He squeezes my shoulder. “That’s the only thing I would’ve regretted, angel. That prick would’ve been free to…”
“Hey.” I kiss him on the shoulder. “We don’t need to worry aboutwhat ifsnow. It’s over. He’s not going to be able to hurt us now… is he?”
“He’s under guard. And even if he wasn’t, I don’t think I left him in any state to do a goddamn thing.”
“You messed him up pretty badly.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Did I scare you?”
“No. He scared me. You saved me.”
“I didn’t want you to see me like that.”
“If you hadn’tbeenlike that, Veronica and I would be toast. Don’t you dare feel guilty, Dario Bianchi.”
He kisses me again, then inhales my hair.
“Why do men do that?” I say, somehow laughing, even if it’s hollow and nervous.
“Careful mentioning other men…” He offers a hollow-sounding laugh as well.
“Not with me. Actually, no one’s ever done that to me before. But I see it in movies and stuff.”
“I don’t know about other men,” he says. “But with you, I want to be closer than close. I want your scent. I want everything. I know that makes me sound like an animal.”
“You’remyanimal.”
I snuggle closer to him, closing my eyes and laying my cheek against his chest. “It’s weird. I’m tired because I hardly got any sleep, but I’m wired, too.”
“I know the feeling,” he replies.
“But here…”
“And now,” he finishes.
“We can just relax. Or not even relax. Lie here unrelaxed… but together, at least.”
“I’m so proud of you,” he says. “I was proud before, but now I know what you were up against, the feeling goes even deeper. You had every reason to fail, and you rose to the challenge. First when you took over for your boss, and this morning, with Rocco. What you did takes balls.”
