Chapter 106
Nonnina had lain in her bed, rosary tangled in her fingers, staring at the ceiling as the sounds traveled through the walls. Zuccherino’s cries, Diavolino’s voice, the rhythmic protest of the headboard against the wall.
She should have been scandalized. Instead, her chest ached with a complicated joy.
He had found someone who could reach him. Her Diavolino.
Still, Nonnina knew the world they lived in. The Genovese curse would not allow softness. She had seen this story unfold too many times. A powerful man falls only because love makes you visible.
She prepared coffee strong enough to wake the dead. She poured juice into crystal glasses and arranged breakfast neatly on a silver tray.
As she approached Luca’s bedroom, the door opened.
Luca stepped out barefoot, shirtless, hair disheveled. Faint red marks traced his chest and neck. His eyes were softer.
“Morning, Nonnina,” he said, reaching for her and kissing her hair.
Nonnina’s smile widened as she looked at him, the years peeled away from her memory. He did not look like the Don of the New York Genovese empire. His shoulders, usually set had softened. The perpetual tension that lived in the line of his jaw had eased.
His eyes were no longer that glacial, punishing blue that froze men mid-sentence. This morning they were lighter. Clearer. The shade of an open sky before a storm gathers.
“Looks like you had a good night,” Nonnina said.
“A perfect night.” He took the tray from her hands with steady fingers. “She’s going to need painkillers p>
“Diavolino, what did you do to the girl?” Her eyes sharpened instantly, warmth hardening into steel.
“Nothing,” he answered. “It’s her first time. I was… a bit rough p>
The slap cracked through the corridor. Luca’s head snapped to the side. Nonnina had not struck him in years.
“You have gotten so used to abusing women, you think it’s normal!” she snapped, her small frame trembling with fury. The familia had taught Luca brutality. The world had rewarded it. But she had raised him to always respect women.
“Nonni He exhaled sharply. “I didn’t do anything she didn’t want p>
Her gaze bored into him. She had seen men convince themselves of that lie before. Powerful men who blurred consent with conquest. His own father did the same thing.
Nonnina sighed. “I’ll make sure she is taken care of. That girl is too pure for you, crazy idiot p>
“Nonni he tried again. Him and his damned mouth. He had spoken without thinking.
“Go,” she cut him off, waving a dismissive hand. “Get ready for work and leave the Zuccherino alone p>
“Yes, ma’am.” He turned and reentered the room, closing the door quietly behind him. The curtains were half drawn, pale morning light spilling across rumpled sheets. Vee lay tangled in them, hair fanned over the pillow. Her skin bore faint traces of him. She looked small in that enormous bed, fragile against the weight of the world he inhabited.
He set the tray down carefully on the nightstand, the silver barely making a sound. He did not want to wake her yet. She deserved sleep. She deserved softness.
Maybe Nonni was right.
He stood there for a long moment, studying her. Vee was not like the others. She did not orbit him for the thrill. She had looked at him last night with trust. The most dangerous gift anyone could offer a man like him.
Was he capable of gentleness? Or was brutality so deeply wired into him that even love would come out sharpened?
He swallowed hard.
Maybe she deserved more than his brutality. More than his world.
But the thought of letting her go would not even settle. The only way out is death.
He poured a cup of coffee. He moved to the sofa near the windows and checked his phone.
Messages stacked. Shipments. Accounts. His wife. And reminder of a meeting with Valentina.
He took a slow sip of coffee, eyes scanning his screen, but his attention kept drifting back to the bed.
Soon, Vee stirred.
Luca was on his feet. He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the mattress. He reached out and ran his fingers through her hair.
“Good morning, Bambola,” he said quietly.
Her eyes opened slowly, lashes fluttering against skin still warm from sleep.
“Morning to you too,” she replied.
“How are you feeling?” She could see it in his eyes, the concern.
“Luca, I’m fine. It’s not like I am glass p>
His jaw tightened slightly. “I should have been gentler. I’m sorry p>
“I don’t want you gentle,” Vee said, matter of fact. “That’s… that’s what we are,” she continued, pushing herself up slightly against the pillows. The sheet slipped, revealing bare shoulders marked faintly by his hands. She met his eyes steadily. “Explosive. Nothing about us makes sense. You don’t live in my world. I don’t belong in yours. And that’s exactly why it feels the way it does. It’s the best experience I have ever had. And I wouldn’t want it any other way p>
Luca’s eyes lit up with validation. He leaned closer, brushing his thumb lightly along her jaw. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured.
A sharp knock cut through the moment.
“Enter,” he said.
Nonnina entered. She carried a small white packet of painkillers in one hand. Behind her followed a maid in a black uniform, head bowed, arms filled with folded towels, oils, bath salts in glass jars, and a small wooden box. The maid moved quietly, crossing the thick rug without disturbing so much as a thread, then disappearing into the adjoining marble bathroom where water began to run moments later.
Nonnina threw Luca a glare sharp enough to cut glass before turning her full attention to Vee. The transformation was immediate. Her lined face softened, eyes warming.
“Good morning, Nonnina,” Vee said.
“Zuccherino… how do you feel?” Nonnina asked, placing the painkillers firmly on the tray beside the coffee.
Vee turned questioning eyes to Luca.
He shrugged.
“I’m… I’m fine?” she offered.
Nonnina’s brow lifted slightly. “You don’t have to lie to me,” she said. “Eat. Take your medicine. I’m preparing a soothing bath for you. A masseuse will be here in an hour to take care of you p>