“Your loyalties were misplaced, as were Brando and Roman’s,” Massimo murmurs.
She licks her lips before they curl up into a smile. “No, they weren’t. My loyalties were to the man that I loved. That can never be misplaced.”
“He abused you,” Mia whispers.
Erin shrugs a shoulder. “You may see it that way, but it’s because you didn’t open your mind to him. He was perfection. Nobody understood him the way that I did.”
“So, he brainwashed you.” Mia snorts. “In the end, he’s killed you too.”
“So be it. I welcome sweet death so that I can be with him again,” Erin breathes as Massimo slides the knife across her neck.
Blood squirts out everywhere. It covers Massimo’s face and shirt, but he doesn’t seem fazed. He watches her, his eyes not leaving hers until they’re vacant.
“Is this over now?” I ask the quiet room.
Gavino chuckles, his eyes finding mine as his lips twitch into a smile. “I hope so, cara. You didn’t deserve an ounce of what happened to you. This is a clear case of people being—”
I open my mouth, interrupting him before he can finish his words. “This is a clear case of people being people. Obsessing, falling in misguided love, being greedy for that love and for the love of money. Betraying others to get ahead in life. It’s the way people are.”
Gavino nods his head. “It is, cara.”
“I just want to be happy. I could live in a cardboard box under the bridge as long as I was happy,” I admit on a whisper.
Massimo’s head swings over to me, his eyebrows lifting in surprise at my words. “Doubtful, but that’s sweet, dolcezza. I’ve seen how many pillows are on the bed, no way would a cardboard box suffice.”
The room erupts into laughter. Something light and airy enters the space and we all inhale a deep breath before we let it out with a whoosh. The heaviness of before is gone, the anger, it’s disappeared.
It feels, good, and for the first time in five years, I finally feel… happy.
Epilogue
ONE MONTH LATER
PIPPA
I smooth my dress down, turning to the side to look at my reflection. Something catches the corner of my eye in the reflection. Massimo is leaning against the doorjamb of my closet, his eyes sliding down my body, pausing on my hands at my middle before they move down to my feet.
“I’m glad you claim to like curves, because I’m getting them,” I huff.
His gaze flicks up to meet mine just as I turn to look at him from over my shoulder. I watch as his lips turn up into a grin.
“Dolcezza, you look amazing. You know that you do, am I not showing you enough?” he asks, pushing off of the jamb as he makes his way into the closet.
My breath hitches when he slides his hands around my hips, turning me to face him fully. Tipping my head back, I slide my arms up his chest, curling my fingers around his shoulders, holding on to him as he tugs my body flat against his own.
“Massimo,” I whisper.
He grins, dipping his chin, his mouth brushing mine. “Pippa,” he responds, his fingers curling in my dress as he hikes it up my thighs.
“We have to go to the party, we’re going to be late,” I groan.
He hums against my lips, one of his hands leaving my skirt to slip beneath my panties and dive between my legs. Ripping my lips from his, I let out a long moan as his fingers slide through my folds.
“You were sexy the day I married you, sexy the day I came back five years later from leaving you, and still so goddamn sexy right this fucking minute,” he whispers against my throat as his lips travel down my neck.
Spreading my thighs, I lick my lips as he plays me just the way that he knows I like, the way he knows will take me to the edge and over, fast. Massimo’s teeth sink into the skin between my neck and my shoulder just as his fingers press against my clit and I come.
It rolls through me hard and fast without warning as the warmth spreads throughout my entire body. Massimo licks the spot that he bit as his fingers slowly pump in and out of me, his palm grinding against my sensitive clit.
“Beautiful, every fucking square inch of you, dolcezza,” he rasps against my throat.
Lifting my leg, I hold on to his shoulders as I wrap my knee around his hip. “Please, Massimo.”
“Please what?” I hear him ask as he grasps the side of my flimsy panties and rips them.
His hand shifts to his waist and I can feel him working his pants open. Finally, I breathe out an exhale of relief when I feel him free himself and the head of his cock presses against my center.
Massimo reaches down, grabbing ahold of my other thigh, lifting me up at the same time he impales me before he turns me around and slams my back against the wall. Throwing my head back, it thuds against the wall as I let out a whimper of pleasure.
Massimo grunts, “Look at me, dolcezza,” he demands on a growl.
Lifting my head, my breath coming out in pants as his hips thrust, his pelvis grinding against my clit on each stroke, I try to focus my eyes on him, but it’s so difficult when all I want to do is feel, is climb, is fall over the edge into bliss—again.
“I love you,” he says, his voice coming out rough, hoarse and raspy.
Licking my bottom lip, I sink my teeth into my flesh, my eyes searching his. He continues to fuck me, slamming my back against the wall with each hard thrust of his hips. Leaning forward, I exhale against his mouth
