The Don stares at me and, on the inside, I’m freaking the fuck out. The man is scary, and he’s put me in charge of a major deal for his company. And if there’s anything I’ve learned about people you're making money for—it’s that you don’t fuck with the money.But on the outside, I keep my calm, businesslike mask in place.Don’t ever let them see you sweat.Wiping his mouth and taking a sip of wine, the Don asks, “And why aren’t you pursuing a relationship with Gabriele? You were in love, weren’t you?”I put my fork down and wipe my mouth with my napkin, buying time to ease the spike of anger that runs through me. Pushing back in my seat, I turn toward the Don.“I’d love to say that that information is none of your business, but I suppose you could argue that any extracurricular relationship I might have would be your concern most of all.”Dante grunts at that, and I can feel his glare on me—but I ignore him. Just like he’s been ignoring me since we had sex.I’m not petty. I’m practical
I’m so glad I have a driver with me tonight so I can spill my guts out to Grayson and Emily on the way home. I tell them everything: how pampered Rocco and Bianca are that they couldn’t even help their mom in the kitchen, how lovely Emilia is, how Rafel put me on the spot about Gabbi, and how Dante and Bianca cornered me in the bathroom.“Son of a bitch! I seriously can’t believe you got stuck with such a rotten family!” Emily squeals into the phone.“Seriously, Em? They’re fucking mafia. You don’t turn out a son like Dante without being a little messed up yourself. I’m just sad this is your life, Q. You seriously don’t deserve this,” Grayson says.“If it wasn’t for my father’s debts, things wouldn’t be like this. Honestly, if it weren’t for Stefan and the company, I’d let him deal with it. I mean, it’s not like he really cares about me—he sold me off to a mafia family without even consulting me,” I mutter. If there’s anything this month and a half of marriage to Dante has taught me, i
“How ya feeling there, boss?” Grayson asks as I walk in the door at 11 instead of my usual 7:30.“Fuck off,” I whine, holding my head and swigging the coffee in my hand.He just laughs. Grayson has nursed me through plenty of hangovers throughout our college careers. He knows how much of a bitch I am until I can get some food down. But that can’t happen until the headache eases.I walk into my office and hit the switch to lower the shades. Normally, I love the floor-to-ceiling windows that take up one entire wall of my office—it’s soothing and beautiful.Right now? I want to shoot down the sun for how much the light hurts my head.I set the recessed lighting to low so I can see without wanting to claw my eyes out. Sitting down in my chair, I shrug off my coat and quietly drop my bag and purse to the floor. My head falls into my hands and I groan through the pain.Grayson opens the door. “Hello, babes. I’ve got Gatorade, water, Tylenol, and a corn muffin to soak up whatever alcohol is s
Well, at least if I’m going to be at the most awkward meeting in history with the siblings of my fake husband, I’m doing it at a really good seafood restaurant. The siblings took me to Narea off Central Park.I’ve been here countless times with my family when my mom was alive. It was her favorite restaurant. We haven’t been in a while, but the familiarity of the building, the restaurant, and the aromas coming from the kitchen bring back a ton of good memories.Bianca rambled the entire trip to Narea, and it nearly killed me. At least not much was required of me conversation-wise. Honestly, I think I could have been a mannequin, and the conversation would have gone on as if I were there.What I did find interesting was the subject of her rambling. She was detailing everything that happened after I left last night.“You have no idea how pissed Mamma was when Dante and I came back into the room without you, and Mario had to explain that you’d left. She yelled at every single one of us for
It hurts. Why does it hurt so bad to see Dante with another woman?Granted, she’s all over him and he looks like he’s politely trying to stop her from touching him. But that still doesn’t explain what he’s doing with her. Why are they out to lunch?“Quinn, I’m sure there’s a good explanation,” Rocco says from behind me.“What the fuck kind of explanation could he have, Rocco? There is no good reason that our brother is with her, all cuddled up at a corner table,” Bianca spits out.Huh. That’s an interesting development—she’s taking my side in this.I turn back to our table, picking up the napkin from my lap and wiping my mouth with it, giving myself time to compose my face. To slide the mask back on—the one I wear around this family more often than not.Both Rocco and Bianca are watching me, and I know they see the change in my demeanor. It causes Bianca to smirk and Rocco to throw an anxious glance toward his brother.“What’s her name?” I ask, though the question isn’t aimed at eithe
“Hey! How was lunch? Was it as awful as you thought—” Grayson says as I stomp onto my office floor. But I completely bypass him, knowing that if I stop and talk to him about lunch, I’m gonna lose my shit in front of the entire floor.Instead, I slam my office door behind me and throw my coat and bag onto the couch.“Good talk…” I hear Grayson mutter from behind the door.Instead of yelling to him like I want to, I stomp over to my intercom and hiss into it, “Get your ass in here!”Then I kick off my heels—one of them knocking over my trash can, the other hitting the far wall. I don’t worry about it. I just start pacing, eating up the carpet beneath me.“What the hell, Q?” Grayson asks, obviously annoyed as he walks into my office. “What crawled up your ass and died?”“I just came back from lunch with the siblings-in-law and happened to see my HUSBAND with a woman who was basically dry-humping him at the table,” I snarl.Grayson’s mouth nearly falls to the floor. “You’ve gotta be fuckin
It’s Thursday. I have yet to go home. I’ve stayed here every night, working. Anything I needed, I either had Grayson or Emily get for me. I’ve been using the company gym, and my office is plenty big and fully stocked—so is the staff kitchen.Honestly, there’s really no reason for me to leave. Other than, you know… having a life.But here, inside this building, I don’t have to worry about Dante getting to me. I don’t have to talk to him. He’s still calling constantly—at least once an hour. Texting just as much. I don’t respond to any of it. Grayson started off refusing to take his messages and even cussed him out a few times at the beginning of the week. Now, he just picks up the phone, says, “She’ll call you when she wants to,” and hangs up.Dante’s sent flowers by the bucketful: Lily of the Valley, pink baby roses, blue hyacinths, white orchids, pink carnations, white and pink tulips. The combinations felt odd until I Googled them—turns out, they’re all flowers that symbolize an apol
As we drive back into the city toward the Luciano business tower, I stare sightlessly out the window. I’m stewing on what I saw at the Luciano house. I was only there for about thirty minutes, but it’s more than enough to raise my blood pressure.I don’t think it’s just what the Don asked me—I get that he’s concerned about what’s happening between Dante and me. It affects the contract between our families. If I don’t produce an heir… well, things get complicated after that.No, I understand why he asked. What I don’t understand is why Dante didn’t tell him. Or why Rocco or Bianca didn’t step in to explain. What pissed me off most was how he acted like it was my fault, demanding answers from me like I’m the only one responsible for keeping this sham of a marriage on track.When does Dante take responsibility for his fuckups? Why is it always on me?I’m so riled up and stuck in my head that I don’t even notice when we pull up to the curb outside the tower.“Quinn?” Josiah says from the f
Hey friends!Thank you so much for reading Yours On the Dotted Line. I hope that you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Here are a couple of announcements/interesting information for you.If you are interested in what I listen to while I’m writing, you can find my playlist “Creative Juices” on Spotify. I love all different kinds of music, so there's a little something for everyone.I write all different kinds of books. If you’re interested, you can find my other books on these platforms:GoodNovel:Trio of Mates Series: 4 werewolf books that take on the idea of what would happen if one of the leadership was gay and couldn’t produce an heir. Lots of very graphic smut. (completed)Love in the Time of Quarantine: 4 short stories that look at what happens when you are stuck with someone you didn’t expect during quarantine. Lots of very graphic smut. (completed)Dissonance and Harmony: The story of a high school girl who has to face her rapist at his sentencing hearing and deal
Bora Bora. Our final night. Our favorite kind of storm.“DANTE!” I scream, my fingers curling into his hair, holding him against me as I ride his face.His mouth is locked onto my clit, sucking and tugging just right, while his fingers curve inside me with that relentless, perfect come here motion.I’ve only ever squirted with Dante—and even then, it’s rare. It takes that crushing, desperate kind of need, the one only he can stir up. It’s different than a typical orgasm—pressure building until it feels like I might break—but the release… God, the release is so fucking good. It leaves me limp. Soaked. Ruined in the best way.He knows what he’s doing to me right now. From the way his fingers stroke my g-spot, he’s trying to make sure I’m blissed-out and limp when he finally fucks me.His moan vibrates through me, and I clench hard around his fingers. I can feel the wave rising—hot and fast and inevitable.My grip tightens in his hair, probably painful by now, but he just groans louder, d
Back in Bora Bora. The water. The fire. The man I love.Dante chases me into the ocean—not that I can get very far. Or want to.He’s stripped off everything, tossing his clothes in a careless heap on the sand. The last thing I see flying is his Versace watch, sailing somewhere in the general direction of his pants.Then he’s sprinting into the water after me.I make it to about hip-deep before Dante catches me.“Fuck, cara mia, you’re so sexy,” he growls, his hands immediately on me. He starts with my stomach—tender, reverent—before sliding down to my ass to yank me against him, then up to my breasts, cupping them through the water. “I need you.”“You have me, baby,” I murmur, teasing. “What are you gonna do with me now that you’ve caught me?”He chuckles darkly. “Anything I want.”His hand fists in my hair, pulling just enough to tilt my head back. Then his mouth crashes onto mine, full of heat and dominance.God, I love when he takes control like this. It melts me, makes me ache to g
One week after the spa day. Four and a half months pregnant.“Mama! I want to go play in the pool! Let me go!”Freddie is squirming all over the place, trying to break free from my arms so he can bolt out the kitchen door into the backyard of the Luciano estate.Okay, I can’t blame him. I’ve been holding him for five solid minutes, not quite ready to let go.“Topina, you have to let him go. We’re going to miss our flight,” Dante murmurs against my shoulder, his breath low and warm, sending a shiver straight down my spine.“You own the plane,” I pout. “What’s the point of owning a private jet if you can’t leave when you want?”I know he’s right, though. I need to let Freddie go.But this is the first time I’ll be away from him for longer than a weekend—and he’s always just been a short drive away, staying with Grayson and Rocco, or Emily and Josiah, or Nonna and Nonno. This time, I won’t be able to just jump in the car if he needs me.I finally let him wiggle free, and he sprints outsid
Four months pregnant. One week from our anniversary.After my spa day with Bianca, I went to Freddie’s preschool to pick him up. He runs straight out the door and launches himself into my arms.“Mommy! Mommy! I’m so excited!” he cries as I catch him and hold him tight.I won’t be able to pick him up much longer. At four months pregnant, my OB-GYN would probably have a heart attack if she saw me carrying him right now. But it’s something I know I’ll miss. I’ve decided to carry him until our anniversary next week—when I hit the five-month mark.Yes, it’s completely arbitrary. But I made the decision. And I’m sticking to it.“Hello, amore. How was your day? What’s got you so excited?” I ask as I shift him on my hip and start walking toward the car.Josiah, standing nearby with Emilio, clucks his tongue when he sees me carrying Freddie. But he doesn’t say anything—smart man. Experience has taught him that arguing with a pregnant woman is a fool’s game.“School was great! Conner found a b
One month later…When I first met Bianca, I thought she was stuck-up, petty, and materialistic. I honestly would’ve bet money that she’d want a black-tie affair—no kids allowed—in the most expensive and exclusive venue in all of New York.Now that I really know her, I couldn’t have been more wrong.Yeah, the girl loves to shop. And yeah, she’s never been spotted without her red-bottomed shoes and a Kate Spade bag. But when it comes to what really matters? Bianca is all about family.“Honestly, Quinn, I’d love to just go down to City Hall with the family and then go out for dinner. But you know Papà won’t allow that,” she groans.It’s been a month since my brother proposed, and despite Emilia’s best efforts to drag Bianca into full wedding-planning mode, she’s managed to dodge every attempt so far.Today, we’re having a spa day. Facials, massages, pedicures, and soon manicures. And while we’re soaking our feet, I plan to get to the bottom of this.It took years for Stefan to get to the
Three years later…“Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday, dear Freddie! Happy Birthday to you!”My beautiful little boy—Frederico “Freddie” Dante Luciano—is three years old today. We’re surrounded by family, friends, and sugar-high toddlers, standing in a place I never thought we’d reach.Of course, the second we finish singing and Freddie blows out his candles, he immediately shoves his whole hand into the cake and shouts, “It’s chocolate cake! Mommy got me chocolate cake!”“Oh, Freddie! That was for everyone! You can’t put your hands in it,” I scold gently.“You say that like you don’t have two other cakes in the kitchen, cara mia. Let the boy enjoy his cake,” Dante says, wrapping his arm around me and kissing the top of my head.“Then you can be the one to put him to bed tonight,” I reply, earning loud laughter from Emily, who’s holding her and Josiah’s two-year-old daughter, Violet.“MAMA!” Freddie shouts, not at all pleased with my attention being elsewhere
Quinn’s POVRocco stares at me, completely gobsmacked. “W-w-what do you mean?”I roll my eyes. “Do you really think Grayson wouldn’t tell me everything? Especially after I caught the two of you fucking in the bathroom! Why are you keeping my best friend a secret?”“I’m not!” Rocco insists—but it’s clear neither of us believes that.I don’t even dignify it with a response. I just fold my arms over my very full boobs and even fuller belly and glare at him.“I’m not ashamed of being with Grayson!” he repeats, eyes wide and desperate. “I just…” His words trail off, like even he doesn’t know how to explain it.I glance around and realize we’re in an office. Thank God. I can’t stand for long without the baby pressing on my hips and making my legs go numb. I grab a chair and sink down, eyes locked on my brother-in-law as he begins to pace.“My family knows I’m gay,” he starts. “I came out to Bianca and Dante when I was fourteen, my mom at fifteen, and the Don when I was seventeen. And surpri
Quinn’s POV“It started right after Dante found you—when we were all meeting up at the hospital,” Grayson tells me.We’re sitting in the front seats of my car. He hasn’t looked at me once since we got in. I can tell he’s worried about how I’ll react to the story.That alone makes me sad. That he thinks I wouldn’t be happy for him. That he doubts I’d be on his side.“At first, we were just at the hospital at the same time. I noticed Rocco took his coffee the same way I did, so I started picking up drinks for both of us. Then he started bringing pastries. One thing led to another… and we ended up in a heavy makeout session, dry humping against the alley wall behind a café.”I blink. “And you weren’t going to tell anyone?” I ask. “Didn’t you think we’d be happy for you?”“It’s not that…” He sighs. “At first, we kept it quiet because of everything going on—your kidnapping, the baby, your dad… We didn’t want to add more chaos. And then it had been so long. We didn’t know how to bring it up.