Chapter 17
I turned in his embrace, pressing my face against his chest. The steady thump of his heart grounded me. “Better than okay. Did you see his face?”
“Saw him nearly wet himself.” Vincent’s low chuckle vibrated through his chest. “No one threatens what’s mine and walks away unscathed.” His fingers traced lazy patterns on my back. “Though I wanted to do more than just scare him.”
A shiver ran through me at his words.. The possessiveness in his tone, the casual way he wielded his power, it stirred feelings I wasn’t ready to examine.
“Still getting used to all this?” His ice–blue eyes studied my face.
I pulled back slightly, fidgeting with the hem of my sleeve. “It’s… different. A week ago I was just Thomas’s doormat wife. Now I’m living with a man who makes hardened
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criminals tremble.”
“And how’s that working out for you?” A hint of amusement colored his words.
“Honestly? It’s overwhelming. The mansion, the guards, you…” I gestured
you
is
vaguely at him. “Everything about intense. But…” I paused, surprising myself with the truth in my next words. “I feel safe here. Protected. Even if I don’t quite understand why you’re doing all this.”
Vincent’s gaze locked with mine. “You want to know something?” He shifted closer, his fingers brushing against my cheek. “All these years searching for you weren’t just about keeping my word.”
My breath caught in my throat. The intensity in those ice–blue eyes made my heart race.
“At first, it was just a mission. Find Dominic’s granddaughter, keep her safe. But the more I learned about you…” He paused, thumb tracing my jawline. “The
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more reports I got about this strong woman who kept going despite everything life. threw at her. The way you handled yourself with dignity even when that bastard Thomas tore you down.”
I swallowed hard, unable to look away from his face. This wasn’t the cold, calculating mafia boss speaking. This was raw, honest Vincent.
“I fell in love with the idea of you long before I saw you. Your resilience. Your grace.” His voice dropped lower, rougher. “And now that you’re here, standing in front of me…” His hand cupped my face. “You’re more than I imagined. You’re mine, Cheryl. Not because of any promise. But because everything in me recognizes you as my woman.”
The possessiveness in his voice sent warmth spreading through my chest. This dangerous man, who could bring cities to their knees, looked at me like I was his whole world.
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“Every report, every detail I gathered about your life, it only made me want to protect you more. To show you what real love looks like.” His thumb brushed across my bottom lip. “And I will, cara mia. I’ll spend every day proving it to you.”
My heart thundered in my chest at his words. Without thinking, I grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him down to me, crushing my lips against his. The kiss blazed through me like wildfire, his strong arms wrapped around my waist.
His tongue swept into my mouth, claiming every inch. I melted into him, fingers threading through his dark hair as years of loneliness and pain dissolved in the heat between us.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, I couldn’t help but smile up at him. “Well then, Vincent Moretti, I look forward to you proving that to me.” My voice came out husky, affected.
His eyes darkened at my words, that
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predatory gleam sending delicious shivers. down my spine.
His lips brushed against my ear. “From now on, no one touches what belongs to me. And you, cara mia, are mine.”
Vincent’s fingers wrapped around my wrist, firm but gentle. The contrast between his touch and his words made my heart skip. He led me through the mansion’s winding halls, his presence commanding every shadow.
At the grand entrance, he released my wrist and clapped twice. The sound echoed through the marble halls. Within seconds, men poured in from every direction. They lined up with military precision, their faces a mix of curiosity and respect.
Vincent’s hand found the small of my back. “Listen up.” His voice carried across the foyer. “As some of you witnessed, I made a promise to my woman.” He pulled me
closer. “This Sunday, Cheryl becomes Mrs. Moretti.”
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The men erupted in cheers. Some whistled, others clapped. Marco, standing at the front, grinned wider than I’d seen yet.
Vincent clapped again, and silence fell instantly. His smile held an edge of danger and pride. “Two days. I want the grandest wedding this city has seen. Money is no object.” He surveyed his men. “Make it happen.”
