Page 25 of Saved By A God
Chapter7
Rosie
Chewing on a carrot so Dad and Enzo will stay off my back, I look at the screen showing all the security feeds of Adriano’s club, the shipping yard, and the Rizzos’ property in Long Island.
Happy that nothing is out of place, I move on to Augusto’s house, Paradiso, and then Vitale Health. Seeing Raffaele is with Augusto, I shake my head.
After Raffaele started working as my underboss, he was hardcore at my side for six months, but then he gravitated back to Augusto because I’m too boring. Now he just checks in on me and attends meetings in my stead.
When I look at my parents’ place and see Mom, Grandma, and Grandpa sitting at the kitchen island, going over paperwork, I tune into their channel and say, “How are my favorite people this morning?”
Smiles spread over their faces, and they look at the camera. “We’re good. Taking care of the finances,” Mom answers. “How are things at the fortress?”
“Busy as always. I’m checking on everyone before I update my firewalls.”
“That means you’re going to work yourself to death again.” I hear Dad’s voice before he appears on screen. He gives me a look of warning. “Don’t overdo it and remember to eat.”
“Healthy food,” Grandma adds. “Not just candy and snacks.”
“When do I ever live only off junk?” I gasp.
Grandpa lets out a chuckle. “Just every damn day.”
“Do you want me to come over and help?” Dad asks while he begins to make coffee.
“Nah, it’s just the usual process. Nothing major. I’ll get it done in a couple of days.”
“Good. Then you won’t be too busy to come for lunch on Sunday,” Mom says.
Grinning, I chuckle. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world. See you all Sunday.”
“Love you,” they all call out at the same time.
“Not half as much as I love you,” I reply before cutting communication.
I grab another baby carrot, and crunching down on it, I make sure the rest of my loved ones are safe before bringing up the cameras in Enzo’s apartment. I always leave him for last in case I get lost in staring at him.
Today, I’m in time to see him working out in his private gym.
Holy, abs.
The carrot is forgotten in my hand as I watch him bench press the crap out of the weights, sweat glistening all over his gloriously hot body. The way his abs contract, the muscles curved hard into his skin, practically makes me drool.
Jesus, there are three plates on each side. I don’t know much about weightlifting, but judging by the way every muscle in his chest and arms strains, it’s a stupid amount.
No wonder he can toss me around as if I’m light as a feather.
Hot damn, he can bench press me any day.
Like a woman who’s been dying of thirst in the desert, I drink in every inch of ink on his skin.
The Godfather covers his entire left forearm, from wrist to elbow. It’s always been his favorite movie and was the first ink he got at fifteen. On his right arm are various versions of the Joker, and I think it represents how unstable he feels.
My attention drifts to the massive piece covering his chest.
A dragon is spread across his pecs and shoulders, every scale inked with insane detail. Its wings stretch outward over the hardcurve of muscle, while its claws look ready to tear through skin and bone.
The beast’s head is directly over his heart, jaws open as flames pour from its mouth with smoke snaking down his sternum. Beneath the dragon is an entire city consumed by flames.
