Ruined Secrets: Part 2 – Chapter 16

“Camilla, Orlando’s wife,” Isabella whispers as we walk across the room at Massimo Lombardi’s eighteenth birthday celebration.

“She’s the one who’s addicted to sleeping pills?”

“Nope. That’s Lorenzo’s wife, Ludovica,” she says, then continues with the rest of Orlando’s family. “Next to Camilla are his daughters Constansa, the taller one, and Amalia. Don’t mention Damian in front of them.”

From the way Isabella is holding herself—pressed to my side, her arm tightly wrapped around mine, whispering in my ear with a smile on her face—people will probably presume we’re having a very private conversation. Her feet must be killing her in the heels she’s wearing. She purchased them yesterday, specifically for this occasion. The damn things are more than five inches tall, but she said it was necessary because of our height difference. Even with the added inches, I still need to bend my head to hear what she murmurs.

After a short talk with Orlando, we take drinks from a passing waiter and move toward the corner of the room. Several people approach us along the way, and thanks to the hours I’ve spent with Isabella going over photos and videos, I recognize most of them. For a few, I have trouble connecting the faces to names, so I discreetly squeeze Isabella’s waist and she jumps into the conversation, giving me hints. It’s astounding how she manages to make it look so natural. Unforced.

Lorenzo stands on the other side of the room with a red-haired woman and a few men I don’t recognize. They weren’t in the pictures Isabella showed me. The woman seems familiar, but it takes me a few moments to recall her. Lorenzo’s wife. She’s changed her hair. She was blonde in the photos. Lorenzo looks up and our gazes connect. I’ll have to speak with him later, or it may come across as suspicious. Lorenzo has been the biggest challenge so far since neither Isabella nor Damian could fill me in on all dealings I’ve had with him.

A man in his late fifties starts heading our way from across the room, a woman in her early thirties on his arm.

“Franco Conti. Second wife, Ava,” Isabella says into her glass.

One of the capos who’s in charge of laundering the money from gambling, I recall.

“Damian said you haven’t met his wife yet. She wasn’t at our wedding,” Isabella adds before they reach us.

“Franco.” I nod. “I see you finally decided to let us meet your wife.”

After the introductions, Isabella starts chatting with Ava while Franco stands beside me, watching the crowd.

“I’m concerned about Angelo,” he says. “I’m not sure he’s fit for the role you gave him.”

“Why?”

“Numbers are not his forte.”

I look around at the grounds, pretending that I’m thinking about what he said while I’m trying to filter through the plethora of information in my brain. Who the fuck is Angelo? I squeeze Isabella’s waist lightly.

“Angelo Scardoni is here?” she exclaims next to me. “I wanted to ask him about Bianca and how she’s doing with being married into the Bratva.”

Oh, yes. The youngest capo whose sister married the Bratva’s enforcer a few months back. I forgot his name.

“He will have to learn,” I say, having no idea what role I assigned him. It probably has something to do with the money laundering.

“Did you talk with Lorenzo?” Franco asks.

“About?”

“He was extremely . . . unhappy when you vetoed his drug business idea.”

From what Damian told me, we have never dealt in drugs. Damian mentioned that Angelo Scardoni’s father tried something behind the old don’s back, and it didn’t end well. I can’t recall all the details. “Lorenzo’s happiness is not my concern,” I say.

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

I turn to him, making certain my face shows what I think of his impromptu question.

“I apologize, Boss.” Franco quickly looks down.

“If you overhear Lorenzo mentioning his idea again, to anyone, you will let me know.”

“Of course.” He nods and takes his wife’s arm. “I’m glad to see that you’re well. The Family was worried.”

“They have no reason to be.”

When Franco and his wife leave, I look down at Isabella and find her holding her phone, texting someone. I step behind her, wrap both of my arms around her waist, and rest my chin on her shoulder. “Who are you texting?”

She looks at me sideways, her eyebrows raised. “Why?”

“Is it a male someone?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t text any men unless they are related to you by blood.” I lightly squeeze my arms around her and growl into her ear. “Or I’ll kill them, Isabella.”

“Jealous?” Her lips curl in a barely visible smile.

“You have no idea how much.”

“I’m texting Damian. There are some people here we didn’t expect, and I need him to let me know if there’s any important information you should know.”

“My little scheme master.” I drop a kiss on her exposed skin.

Isabella goes still. “You shouldn’t do that, Luca.”

“Kiss you?” I let my mouth travel upward to her neck and kiss her again. “Why?”

“You’re not exactly known for displaying affection around other people. Especially not at the Family gatherings.”

“Too bad. I enjoy showing everyone you’re mine.”

“Everybody already knows that, Luca. Most of them were at our wedding.”

“They might know,”—I turn her so she’s facing me—“but I want them to see as well.”

Holding her around the middle, I lift her off the ground and press my mouth to hers, as a surprised little yelp leaves her lips. She doesn’t kiss me back right away. I’ve probably shocked her. The thing is, I find myself rather surprised by my act as well. I never intended to make a scene, which is exactly what I’m doing based on the dumbfounded looks on the faces around us, but I couldn’t resist this unexplainable urge to claim her in front of everyone. Maybe because I saw other men watching her, their eyes skimming every part of her that’s on display in that skin-tight burgundy dress.

I bite her lower lip lightly, and Isabella finally starts kissing me back, slowly at first, but then, her hands wrap around my shoulders and the nape of my neck, and her kiss becomes greedy. That’s much better. I feel something wet on my face and open my eyes to find Isabella’s eyes still closed but tears rolling down her cheeks.

I gently lower her back down and take her chin between my finger and thumb. “Tesoro? What’s wrong?”

She presses her lips together tightly and shakes her head, her eyes still closed. More tears fall from them.

“Too much pressure. Stress,” she says. “Don’t mind me.”

She sounds sincere. I don’t believe a word. “I’m taking you home.”

“Yeah. Let’s go through the garden.” She opens her eyes but avoids looking at me. Instead, she nods toward the balcony door. “I don’t want anyone witnessing my breakdown.”

“Okay,” I say and take her hand in mine, leading her outside.

Something’s wrong. I might have lost my memories, but I haven’t lost my mind. She will tell me what the fuck I did to make her cry in front of fifty people. Because, even though I can’t say I’ve known her long, one thing I’m completely sure about is the fact Isabella would never let the members of the Family see her cry.

I sag into the passenger seat and exhale. Shit. Luca walks around the front, sits behind the wheel, and starts the car.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” I nod, open my clutch and retrieve a small mirror and tissues to clean the mascara marks from under my eyes. Waterproof, my ass.

“Care to tell me what just happened there, Isabella?”

“I already told you. Stress overload.” I keep wiping my cheek with the tissue but the black stains just won’t come off, damn it. “Just forget it.”

The road ahead of us is free of other vehicles, but Luca slows down and then turns into a gas station parking lot. In the rearview mirror, I notice the car with our security detail make the same turn, and park a few spots away.

“Why did you stop?” I ask.

Luca doesn’t say anything, just leaves the car and heads toward the building. One of the security guys exits the other car, but Luca motions with his hand for him to get back inside. A couple of minutes later, he returns and drops a package of wet wipes onto my lap.

I look at the package, then up at my husband, who sits with his elbows on the wheel, staring through the windshield. Slowly, I take a wipe and proceed with cleaning my face. “Are we waiting for someone?”

“Yes. For you to start talking, Isabella.”

“Jesus Christ.” I throw the used wipe into my purse and close the small bag. Why won’t he just leave it alone?

As far as I’m concerned, we can stay here all night because there’s no way I’m telling him I was so fucking affected and happy to have him kiss me in front of everyone. Like I matter. Like I have dreamed of him doing for so long. Like . . . he’s in love with me. Just to realize that he probably did that only because he believes we’re a couple happily in love. Before, he didn’t even find it fitting to kiss me on our wedding day.

“I have nothing else to say. Can we please go home?”

“All right.” He starts the car.

The thirty-minute drive passes in complete silence. When we arrive, Luca parks in the driveway, and comes around to open my door. He still doesn’t say anything. Maybe it’s better this way. Tonight has been exhausting, and I’m not in the mood to fight with him. And on top of it, my feet have been killing me for hours. So, prior to getting out of the car, I take off my heels and hold them in my hand as I head toward the house. I take maybe three steps before Luca scoops me into his arms and carries me toward the front door.

He doesn’t put me down when we get inside, as I expected, but proceeds to climb the two flights of stairs. Inside our bedroom, he lowers me onto the bed, then turns around and disappears into the bathroom. A few seconds later I hear the shower turn on.

Instead of waiting for him to finish, I hurry into my old room and take a quick shower there. When I leave the bathroom, I look at my old bed, then at the door between the rooms. I don’t want to sleep alone, but maybe it would be better to avoid more questions, so I shut the adjoining door. Turning down the covers, I get into my old bed and snuggle under the blanket.

I’ve just closed my eyes when a loud bang makes me spring up. I search for the source, and my eyes land on Luca standing in the doorway between the rooms. He’s completely naked, his hair is loose, and by the look on his face, he’s angry as hell. The door next to him is hanging askew by only one of its hinges.

“It wasn’t locked, damn it!” I snap.

He stalks over to the bed, grabs me just under my ribcage, and hauls me up. Then, he throws me over his shoulder.

“Really mature,” I mumble as he carries me to our bedroom. When we reach the bed, he deposits me onto it, then lies down over my body, holding himself on his elbows. Caging me in.

“You sleep in this bed,” he says through gritted teeth. “Nowhere else. Is that clear?”

“Even when we have a fight?”

“Even when we have a fight, Isabella.”

“Okay,” I say, brushing my fingers through his hair. It’s ridiculous how soft it is, I could spend the whole night just passing my hand through it.

“What did I do to make you cry?” he asks and bends his head. “It was the kiss, wasn’t it?”

“Luca . . .”

“Did you feel uncomfortable because people saw us kissing?”

I gape at him. “Why would I?”

“Because I’m so much older than you, and you find it awkward to kiss me in public. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What?!” I stare at him with wide eyes, wondering how the hell he came to that conclusion. “Of course, not!”

“Don’t lie to me, Isabella. I want the truth.”

He wants the truth? Fine. I take his face into my hands and look directly into his eyes.

“I’ve been in love with you for years. Years, Luca,” I say. “I lived for those short moments when you’d come for a meeting with my grandfather. I basically stalked you around the house, hiding behind furniture or bushes in the garden, just so I’d get to look at you.”

I squeeze his face, then continue.

“Before we got married, every night for two years, I fell asleep only after pleasuring myself and imagining you were next to me. I’ve never been with any other man except you because, even when you were off limits, I didn’t want to sleep with anyone else,” I say and kiss him. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, Luca. And being kissed by you in front of the whole Family was my dream come true. I cried because I was happy.”

“So you don’t think I’m too old for you?” he asks, staring down at me.

“Luca, baby, I don’t give a damn how old you are. I’ve never wanted any other man in my whole life.”

Luca’s hand cups my jaw and he watches me through narrowed eyes for a few moments. Then, he slides his hand down and under my nightgown to cup my pussy. “No one’s had this except me?”

“I already told you, you were my first.” I tilt my head and kiss him again. “In fact, you’re the only man who has ever touched it.”

His body goes still above mine, and for a few seconds, it looks like he isn’t even breathing as his eyes bore into mine. And then he snaps. Grabbing the hem of my nightgown, he pulls at the silky fabric until a tearing sound follows. My panties meet the same fate soon after. If this continues, I’ll need to shop for new underwear every week. Or stop buying it all together.

He presses his right hand to my pussy and teases my clit while his left hand travels down my body, trailing from my neck, across my chest and stomach, until it’s between my legs, too. His eyes never leave mine while he slides his finger inside me, still massaging my clit with his other hand.

“Only mine,” he whispers and adds another finger, making me gasp.

A self-satisfied smirk pulls at his lips. He slides down and buries his face between my legs, replacing the finger on my clit with his tongue. My breathing hitches as the pressure in my core keeps building, but just as I’m on the brink, he removes his hand. I whimper at the loss of his fingers, then moan when he sucks on my clit and almost come undone. As I’m about to go over the edge, his mouth vanishes, too. I stare frustratedly at him as he looms over me, his eyes narrowed.

“If I find you in that other bed ever again, you won’t like the consequences,” he says. “Do you understand, tesoro?”

I tilt my chin up and smirk. “And what will you do?”

Luca leans forward, the corners of his lips curling upward in a wicked smile. He slides his finger inside me again, painfully slow. I grab at his hand, pulling on it with all my might, trying to get his finger to move faster without effect. He just smiles wider, then pulls his hand away.

“Luca!” I get a hold of his wrist and pull his hand back between my legs.

“Yes?” He presses the tips of his fingers to my pussy, pinches my clit, then removes his hand again. I feel like I’m going to break from frustration.

“Please,” I whimper.

“If you ever dare to sneak out of my bed again,” he says and bites my earlobe, “I’m going to torture you for hours. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” Luca whispers into my ear, then buries himself to the hilt inside me.

My breath hitches and I pant as he rocks his hips, filling me up more with each thrust. I grab at his upper arms, squeezing, enjoying the sensation of his muscles flexing under my palms. The pressure at my core builds and when he slams into me with a roar, I shatter.

I’m still shaking when Luca slides his cock out and grabs me around the waist, turning me around.

“Have I ever told you how obsessed I am with your ass?” He squeezes my butt cheeks and scrapes his teeth across the skin, then bites.

“Maybe once or twice,” I breathe out, then moan when he licks the spot where his teeth had been.

“Every time you enter a room and my eyes fall on your sweet ass, I have the urge to tear your clothes off you and do this,” he says and his cock enters me again.

Grabbing onto the sheet, I widen my legs a little more, then gasp when he starts pounding into me. His hand slides down my side and across my lower belly. He rocks his hips while his finger finds and teases my clit. I can’t get enough air in my lungs as he continues to hammer me from behind. My walls start spasming around his length while my arms and legs shake uncontrollably. When he buries himself fully, his seed filling me, I moan and come again.

“You’re shaking like a leaf,” Luca says as he lies down next to me and pulls me to his body. “Are you cold, tesoro?”

“I don’t know,” I mumble and nuzzle my face into his chest. My whole body is trembling, but I think it’s the aftereffects of having two of the most amazing orgasms, one right after another.

“Here.” He covers us with a blanket. “Better?”

I tilt my head up and nip his chin lightly. “Yes. But you forgot something.”

“Oh? Did I?” He slides his hand down until he reaches my pussy and brushes the tip of his fingers over my folds. “What might that be?”

I bite his chin again, then turn around so that my back is pressed to his chest. “Don’t keep me waiting,” I say.

His palm cups my pussy, and I take a deep breath in anticipation. Nothing happens.

“Luca!”

“Yes?” I feel his breath at my nape. “Do you need something, tesoro?”

“You know I do.”

“Tell me.”

Oh, how he enjoys torturing me. I place my hand over his between my legs and press on it. “I can’t fall asleep without your finger inside me, okay?”

It’s slightly embarrassing to confess, but it’s the truth. Last night he was going over some Family matters with Damian, and they stayed in his office until well after midnight. I spent the whole day with the catering company and was dog-tired, but when I went to bed, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned until Luca joined me somewhere around two a.m., and only when his finger slid inside of me did I manage to fall asleep.

“I know,” he whispers into my hair and pushes his finger into me. I suck in a breath. My pussy is still sensitive, but when his finger is seated fully in, the feeling of comfort washes over me. I sigh, close my eyes, and fall asleep.