Chapter 26

Unspoken Desires - Chapter 26

Damian

We all left the house shortly after Demetrius’s disturbing phone call.

I still couldn’t wrap my head around why he was bragging about sleeping with a woman old enough to be his mother. Some part of me wanted to laugh at the absurdity; classic Demetrius. But another part of me, the one that had grown up, just couldn’t relate anymore.

I used to be like that. Cold and detached. Chasing the thrill, not the meaning. Then Sareena came into my life and ruined all of that in the best possible way.

I glanced into the rearview mirror. She sat in the far back, wedged between Matteo and Matthew’s gear bag. Her eyes were fixed on her phone, probably scanning the plan breakdown Matthew gave her before we left or she’s reviewing one of our maps. She looked focused. Calm, even. But I knew better.

Her fingers were fidgeting, barely moving, just enough for someone like me to notice. Her shoulders were too tight, and she hadn’t spoken since we left the safehouse.

I wanted to say something. Pull her into my arms, tell her it was going to be okay, even though I wasn’t sure it would be. But there were too many people in the SUV.

At least Matteo was in the other vehicle. I wasn’t exactly sure how she was coping with him being constantly around.

“We’re about thirty minutes out,” Matthew said, checking his tablet. “We secured a rental three doors down from where they are keeping our people. Five grand and they gave us the whole month, ATV’s included.”

I gave a short nod.

Lessia still hadn’t made contact. We’d been able to listen, but not talk to her.

And Vincent… He hadn’t said a word. Not since he blew up in the safe house. After he took off, headed for the Cosmopolitan, he’d been absolutely silent. That wasn’t like him.

I knew he was going to be a problem.

That’s why I had Matteo send extra undercover men, stationed inside the restaurant. If something went sideways, they’d be able to step in.

Lessia and Cesare should be on their way over there soon. Hopefully, Vincent is already inside and seated.

My gut was tight with unease when we pulled into the driveway of the rental house. I was still thinking through everything when Gabriella’s call came in.

I answered, and instantly paled.

“Demetrius ran out of the DeLuca House, carrying Santino. He was bleeding! Maria,” she said, voice ragged. “She came to Demetrius and told him to stay where he was. He thought she was flirting, but then she sent her other men down to the basement. They grabbed Alessandro and dragged him out to a waiting limo. He looked unconscious.”

“Talk to Demetrius,” she said, her voice shaking as she passed the phone.

Demetrius continued. “After that, she turned to me; told me to take out Santino. Me and two of her other guys. I tried to stall, to buy time, but the other two already started heading upstairs. I first tried to figure out what was happening, but heard Santino’s screams.”

He’s just a child, I had to run to stop them, but by the time I got there…” He paused, like he was reliving the moment. “They were already beating the hell out of him.”

“What happened next?” I asked.

“I shot them,” he said, without flinching. “Both of them.”

Everyone in the car went still.

“I think they’re heading to wherever the Morellis and Mrs. Cattaneo are being held. Wherever you are, send us the location, we’re coming.”

Silence. Then everything moved at once. Plans had to change.

One of the guards had already taken Santino to the hospital. The rest of them were heading straight to our location.

“Looks like we need to regroup and replan everything.” Matt exhales slowly. “Replan everything.”

Everything we thought was finally falling into place, just blew apart.

—————

Sophia

I sat on the cold stone floor, watching the three people I loved most - my grandfather, my step-grandmother, and the woman who would one day be my mother-in-law.

They looked… better. Not good, but better than yesterday. Their posture was less slumped, a little color had returned to their faces, ever since I told them about Matthew. That he was coming. That all of them were coming.

I didn’t know how. We didn’t know when. But I knew, they would get us out of here.

They had given me a set of communication devices earlier, but now, they’d all gone silent. No messages. No vibrations. Nothing.

Maybe the batteries had died. Maybe it was worse.

Still, I got to hear Matteo’s voice, and if I don’t make it out of here, I know one thing: I found real love.

That thought was warm. Until the front door slammed open with a sickening crash.

Three disgusting, bloated Russians waddled in, carrying a large tin tub between them. Steam curled up from the water inside, fogging the air with the scent of metal and something medicinal. They dropped it in the center of the room with a thud. Then they started setting up a curtain around it.

One of them turned and sneered at Connie. “Cattaneo, you need to bathe and put this on.”

He tossed a pile of cheap, lacy fabric at her feet. It was red, sheer and completely humiliating.

“You goink to have sexy time tonight,” he said, laughing like it was big joke. “And we film your old pussy get pounded. Will make bery nice video.”

He cackled again and gave a little salute. “One hour before your old man date arrives.”

Then they turned and walked out, locking the door behind them like we were animals, at a zoo.

I stared at the tub, trying to process what I had just heard. My heart thudded so loud it hurt.

What in the hell were they planning?

“Sophia. Sophia…”.

I turned toward Connie. Her voice was strained, barely a whisper.

“Come here for a second.”

I crawled over, and she reached out and took my hand.

“Get Alexandra to give Gino a bath. He needs the heat. And to get cleaned up. It’ll help… give him a little strength.” She swallowed hard. “My hygiene doesn’t matter with what they have planned.”

I nodded, throat burning. My body moved on autopilot as I gently helped Grandma guide Grandpa toward the tub. He was light, too light. He groaned softly as we settled him on the edge. I pulled the curtain closed, giving them what little privacy this prison allowed.

Then I came back to Connie and took her hand again. “What do you think they have planned?”

She looked at me with calm, almost eerie certainty.

“Sophia, don’t worry. I think I’ve figured most of it out.” She exhaled slowly, like she’d been waiting for the chance to say it. “They only meant to kidnap you, me, and your sister. But Sareena didn’t take the bait. So they got Gino and Alexandra by accident.”

I blinked. “They weren’t supposed to be here?”

Connie shook her head. “Collateral. They tried to use us to lure Sareena here… and she came. But they don’t know that yet.”

Something about that felt both reassuring and terrifying. Like we were all sitting on top of a trapdoor and didn’t know when it would open.

Connie leaned in, her voice even softer. “I think Svetlana is working with Maria DeLuca, so she can seduce Miguel.”

My eyes went wide. “Wait! What the fudge?”

She actually smiled. Tired. A little amused. “Don’t look at me like that. We grew up in the peace, love, sex, and rock and roll era. Maria always wanted a night with Miguel.”

I gagged. “Miguel? My future father-in-law Miguel?”

“Oh yeah,” she said with a little smirk. “But he was never interested. She even tried to convince him I was cheating on him. That’s one of the main reasons we stopped being friends. Right after Marcella died.”

I sat back, stunned. There was so much about their past I didn’t know. So much of this twisted mess went deeper than I realized.

It wasn’t just about us. This was also about old betrayals, unhealed wounds, a war that had been brewing long before I ever arrived.

And somehow, I was right in the middle of it.

———————

Lessia

The penthouse hadn’t changed. Not a single thing. Same dim amber lighting. Cesare’s signature cologne still lingering faintly in the air. Same impossible view of the Strip through floor-to-ceiling windows.

Even my shoes were still there, lined up neatly on his rack, exactly where I’d left them.

The entire ride over, Cesare had held my hand. His thumb stroking soft little circles in my palms, the way he always used to.

He’d looked at me like no time had passed. Like there was never a separation, like he didn’t just up and leave me one day. And the worst part, somewhere inside me… I forgave him.

Not completely. Not blindly. But enough to realize I had cared about this man. Back then, when it was just late-night pasta and slow jazz and his stupid laugh echoing in the kitchen, I cared. And now, I wasn’t sure if I still didn’t.

When we finally stepped into the penthouse, he didn’t wait.

The second the door clicked shut, something in him shifted. He didn’t speak. Didn’t even blink. He just turned, reached for me, and pulled me into him like he’d been waiting all day for this.

His mouth crashed onto mine. Hot, possessive, hungry, and my back hit the wall before I could take a breath.

I melted into him. God, the way he kissed.

It wasn’t shy or tentative. It was deep, deliberate, like he was trying to kiss every ounce of doubt out of me. Like he was trying to convince my body to remember what my heart was still trying to forget.

His hands slid over my waist, gripping tighter when I arched against him. One hand tangled in my hair, tilting my head just enough to deepen the kiss, while the other gripped my hip like he didn’t trust himself to let go.

My lips parted, and he groaned into my mouth, low and guttural, like he’d missed this more than he’d ever admit.

I didn’t stop him. Didn’t want to.

His tongue moved against mine, slow and intoxicating, dragging heat down my spine. Every nerve lit up, and I couldn’t tell if I was clinging to him or if he was holding me up. Maybe both.

I reached for him, gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, needing the weight of him on me. I needed to feel something real; his body, his warmth, his hands that already knew every inch of me.

He pressed his thigh between mine, and my breath caught. I knew I wanted more. Soooo much more.

Wanted him to keep going. To touch me the way he used to; like I was the only thing that ever mattered.

His mouth left mine only to trail kisses down my jaw, to the sensitive spot behind my ear, and I shivered. My fingers curled in his shirt as he whispered my name, a hoarse, reverent sigh that made my thighs clench.

Then his hands slid to my blazer. He tugged at it, sliding it off my shoulders, and that’s when it hit me. The wire.

My breath hitched, not from pleasure, but from panic.

“Wait.” I pressed both hands to his chest. My voice was breathless, shaky, but firm. “Stop, just for a second.”

He froze, his mouth just inches from my collarbone. His eyes flicked up to mine, wild with lust and confusion.

“Why?” he rasped. His brow furrowed slightly, confused.

“You abandoned me.” The words came out flat. But they shook inside me. “All I got was a text that said: Matteo’s sending me on a job. Don’t know when I’ll be back, and that was it.”

I walked over to the couch, the same gray velvet sofa where we spent hundreds of nights. Romcoms. Takeout. Sex. More romcoms. More sex.

I sat down slowly, like the weight of it all had just caught up with me.

Then I carefully peeled off my blazer and reached into the lining. My fingers found the tiny wire and I flicked it off. No more ears. I wasn’t ready to let the whole world hear how I felt, not until I knew.

And that was the dangerous part.

Because if Cesare was still a fraction of the man he used to be;

I might just remember what it felt like to love him.