“Arianne, look at me.” Slowly, I lifted my eyes to his. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”
“You died, Nicco. I watched you die.” All the pain and heartache of the last couple of weeks hit me like a wrecking ball. Big, fat, ugly tears rolled down my cheeks as I tried to process everything.
“Ssh, amore mio.” His thumb brushed my cheeks. “I’m here. I’m right here. He can’t hurt us anymore.”
I stiffened.
“It’s okay. I know what happened. I know what you did, Bambolina. And one day, we will need to talk about it. But not today.” He gave me a warm smile. “Right now, I just want to enjoy this moment. I love you, Arianne Carmen Lina Marchetti, and I’ll never leave you again.”
His words sank into me, flooding me with a sense of peace I hadn’t felt since our wedding day.
“I love you too,” I whispered, kissing the tips of his fingers.
Nicco always said that he would die for me.
What I hadn’t realized then, was I would do the same for him.
Love made us strong.
It gave us something to protect.
Something to fight for.
But, most of all, it gave us something to live for.
Epilogue
Nicco
Three weeks later...
“Nicco, put me down,” Arianne’s shrieks filled the apartment as I carried her over the threshold.
“Welcome home, Wife.” I nuzzled her neck. My body ached like a motherfucker, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.
Arianne had been watching me like a hawk since I was released from the hospital. It was cute at first, but now it was starting to test my patience. I wanted to touch her. To strip her naked and make love to her. But Arianne took her job as nursemaid very seriously.
“Tonight, we’re going to christen our new bedroom, and maybe the kitchen counter, and shower too.”
She pressed her hands to my chest. “You’re still healing.”
“I’m fine.” But I wouldn’t be fine if she denied me again.
“Nicco...” She pouted.
“I’m fine. See.” I twirled us around, wincing in agony as my muscles contracted. “Fuck.”
Arianne wriggled out of my arms, sliding to the floor. “I’ll call the doctor.” She went to move but I snagged her wrist.
“Bambolina, it’s just a little pain. The doctor said I need to take it—”
“Aha, I knew it.” She glared at me. “Bed rest for you.”
“Will you be in the bed with me?” I smirked.
“Nicco... this is serious. You’re still healing. You almost—”
I cut her off with my mouth, kissing Arianne with all the frustration and desperation I felt.
“Wow,” she breathed. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes dilated. “He didn’t say anything about no kissing, right?” She dived back in, scraping my jaw with her fingers, dragging me closer.
Laughter rumbled between us and I was about to try my luck at taking things to the next level when a voice boomed, “Nice place.”
“You have got to be kidding me?” I dropped my head to Arianne’s shoulder.
“Nice to see you too, Cous,” Enzo grumbled.
“You guys, this place is so freakin’ cute.” Nora threw her arms around us both, not caring I was sporting a semi and still had my lips attached to Arianne’s neck.
“Isn’t it?”
I untangled myself from the girls and leaned against the counter. We’d settled on a place in Romany Square, a stone’s throw away from the VCTI. Arianne wanted to continue volunteering there and liked the idea of being able to walk. I hadn’t broken it to her yet that the only way I would ever let her walk freely around the neighborhood was if she wore a t-shirt with the words ‘Niccolò Marchetti’s Wife’ stamped across the front, or with at least two bodyguards.
Not that Luis ever let her out of his sight.
“How are you holding up?” Enzo glanced down at where I was holding my side.
“If Arianne asks, I’m fine.”
“Hurting like a bitch on the inside?” he whispered.
“Something like that.”
“I guess you won’t be making an appearance at L’Anello’s for a while yet then?”
“Never,” Arianne called over. “He’ll never be making an appearance at L’Anello’s again.”
“Shit, man. Your girl grew balls.”
“Like Nora doesn’t have yours firmly in the palm of her hand.” My brow quirked up.
“It isn’t like—”
“That? Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that. Before you know it, you’ll be planning how to keep her.”
He snorted. “I think you own the market share in being pussy whipped. Have you spoken to your old man this week?”
The question caught me off guard. “Not for a couple of days, why?”