Page 187 of Vicious Intentions
Fuuuuuck!
“MATTEO!” she wails, shattering into a million tiny pieces in my arms.
My heart feels like it’s about to explode in my chest with so much happiness, it’s physically impossible to withstand. Still, it’s the way her heavy eyes look at me with so much love swimming in her serene ocean that really undoes me.
Mine. All mine. Forever… mine.
It took us six hours to leave the Hamptons, as neither one of us was really eager to go home. As I drive us back into the city, Anna’s head rests on my shoulder, her eyes closed, and my hand always on her thigh.
“Matteo,” she whispers, alerting me that she’s awake.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Do you think that we would have found each other if we weren’t born into our families?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if you weren’t a Donato and I weren’t a Romano, do you think we would still have met?”
I don’t remind her that she’s a Donato too, since I know what she’s implying.
“You’re nineteen, wife. If you had lived any other life but this one, you would probably have been studying at a fancy music school like Juilliard. Too young and talented to be tied down to anyone.”
“And what would you have been doing?” My brows furrow.
“This life is all I know.”
“But what if it weren’t. What if we were normals?”
“Normals?” I chuckle.
“You know? Regular civilians.”
“Hmm. Maybe I’d be in business. I like numbers and problem solving, so maybe I’d be one of those assholes you see on Wall Street.”
“No,” she says, shaking her head before resting her chin on my shoulder, her fingers ruffling my hair. “You would have been a chef. Maybe working in some high-end Michelin-star restaurant.” I smile at her statement.
“You think so?” She nods.
“And one day someone would tell me all about this amazing restaurant with the most decadent dishes, and I would book a table months in advance just so that I could have my graduation dinner there. And as I was waiting for my friends to arrive, our eyes would catch from across the room and that would be all she wrote. I would have been older, wiser, and maybe a little more worldly. And you would have been playful and easy going. The kind of man who could recite poetry by heart and light up every room with his incandescent smile.”
“Is that how I’d win your heart?” I ask quietly. “With a poem and a smile?”
“I think so,” she murmurs, resting her head on my shoulder again. “That’s how you did it the first time.”
It’s not anI love you, but fuck if it doesn’t feel like one.
“If I had seen you walk into my restaurant, I’d have been too struck by lightning to remember my own name, much less any poetry, sweetheart.”
“No. You’d remember. You’d sweep me off my feet, and we’d live happily ever after.”
“We will live happily ever after. In this life.” She smiles, even if she looks a little sad.
“I just wish we had another. That’s all. This one… is too hard. Too filled with death and carnage. Too much blood… just too much.”
“It’s the life that we have,vita mia,” I frown, kissing her knuckles.
“I know. I just wish… things were different. That’s all.” My heart drops at how defeated she sounds.
