Page 141 of Ruthless Vow
No one’s said that to me in years.
“I want that for us.” The words come out rough. Scraped raw. “Not pretending we’re not scared. Just knowing it’s worth it.”
Cassia shifts in my lap, turning to face me. Her legs bracket my hips. Her hands rest on my shoulders.
“I’m not scared,” she says.
“No?”
“I was scared the day I walked in here. Scared on our wedding night, lying next to you, counting your breaths. Scared when I found the evidence against Romano, when I saw how deep the betrayal went.”
She leans in, forehead touching mine.
“But tomorrow? Standing in that garden? Promising you everything in front of everyone?”
“What?”
“That’s not scary.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “That’s the first thing that’s felt right in my entire life.”
My ribs contract. Every muscle in my chest pulls tight, and I can’t draw a full breath. The back of my eyes burns and I clench my teeth against it becauseDio, I’m the Don of New Orleans. I don’t fall apart over a woman in my shirt whispering things I don’t deserve.
But my hands shake where they grip her waist.
“I didn’t think I got to have this.” The words rip out before I can stop them. More wound than voice. “Thought wanting you this much was just another way to get destroyed.”
“And now?”
“Now losing you is the only thing that could.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her left ear. My hand is still unsteady. “And I don’t plan on letting that happen.”
She kisses me. Soft. Certain. A vow before the vows.
When she pulls back, her forehead rests against mine. We breathe the same air. Exist in the same space. I press my thumb to the pulse in her throat. Steady. Mine.
“We should sleep,” she murmurs.
“Probably.”
Neither of us moves toward the door.
I shift us instead. Down onto the leather couch that’s witnessed a thousand late nights, a thousand sessions ofstrategy. I gather her against me, her back to my chest, my arm wrapped around her waist.
The couch is too narrow. My feet hang off the end. Her hair is in my face.
I’ve never been more comfortable in my life.
“Nonna Rosa’s going to kill us,” Cassia mumbles against the leather.
“Worth it.”
“Mmm.” She’s half-asleep, her breathing evening out, her body relaxing into mine. “Love you.”
The words are slurred. She won’t remember saying them.
My lips find her hair. My chest aches. A good ache. The kind that means the walls are down and I don’t have the strength to put them back up.
“Ti amo, tesoro.” I love you, treasure.
“Now sleep. Tomorrow you become my wife.”
