It’s because you’re so fucking strong, my dynamite.
“After they shot me in the leg, I was dragged to a table.” The trauma comes alive in her eyes, darkening them to midnight black. “The sound of the drill is something I’ll never forget, but watching it rip through my hand, something snapped inside me. It felt as if I was moving in slow-motion.”
When she keeps quiet, I remind her, “With a shattered femur, four broken ribs, and a hurt hand, you still fought your way out of that room.” I wet my lips with my tongue, then say, “If you hadn’t missed that shot, the propane tank would’ve killed you.”
“I know.” Mariya sucks in a harsh breath. “But I’d rather die a thousand deaths by my own hand than have one of those fuckers put a bullet in my head.”
“Jesus Christ, baby,” I rasp as I pull her into my arms.
“Do you know my mother was known as the princess of terror?” she murmurs.
“Yes.”
“My father is the most feared man, even after he retired.”
That’s true.
“I felt their blood in my veins.”
When Mariya meets my eyes again, I see the power of her bloodline in them – intense, ruthless, and fucking breathtaking.
I inhale deeply, savoring the sight of my badass wife. “You’ve never been more beautiful than in this moment. Fuck, Mariya, I wish you could see what I see when I look at you.”
“What do you see?”
“A queen.” I press a kiss to her mouth. “My queen.”
Chapter 31
Mariya
At least one good thing came from the entire ordeal.
Luca and I have grown closer.
He sets a bowl of steaming water down on the bedside table and rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt.
I drink in the veins snaking beneath his skin, and watch as he soaks a washcloth.
He locked the door, and it’s just us in the room.
Earlier, when the nurse gave me a sponge bath, it was degrading, but it already feels different with Luca.
It was wrong to send him away and call for Mom. I should’ve given him a chance.
When he pulls the sheet away from my body, he gives me a wink. “Just you and me, my little dynamite. I’ll try to control myself.”
I let out a chuckle as he starts to gently clean my body.
“You better control yourself. I think it’s going to be a while before I’m able to have sex.”
“There are other ways,” he murmurs, the warm cloth brushing over my breasts.
“Tell me.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “Your mouth, amore mio.”
I let out a soft chuckle, appreciating that he’s making this sexual instead of clinical.
Luca takes his time washing me, his eyes filled with adoration.
“You make me feel precious,” I whisper. The cloth moves down my right leg, and when he reaches my foot, he starts to massage it. “Oh God,” I moan, my eyes drifting shit from how good it feels.
“What do you say? Do I get the job?” he teases me.
“Yes, definitely.”
“You won’t ask me to leave the room again?”
I shake my head.
“Once we’re home, I’ll carry you to the bathroom and give you privacy while you use it,” he assures me.
My chin starts to tremble. “Thank you.”
I feel his breath hit my lips, then his lips follow, kissing me tenderly. “I’ll do anything for you, Mariya, that includes protecting your pride.”
Opening my eyes, I murmur, “I love you so much, Luca.”
He continues to wash my body, and by the time he’s done, the pain has lessened, and I feel relaxed.
“Have you done this before?” I ask as he takes a seat in the armchair next to the bed.
“No, everything just comes naturally with you.” A smile spreads over my face, then he says, “Once you’re back on your feet, I want you to plan the wedding of your dreams.”
“We’re already married.”
He nods, “We’ll renew our vows and celebrate with our family and friends.”
“So, no annulment?” I tease him.
“I said I’d never let you go, and I meant it.”
“What’s your dream wedding?” I ask him, loving how easy things feel between us.
“You, standing at the altar,” he chuckles. “Tell me how you pictured yours.”
“I want a black and rose gold wedding.”
The corner of his mouth lifts in a hot grin. “That sounds exactly like you.”
“All the décor must be black, including my wedding dress, and Violet and my mom will wear rose gold dresses.”
“What will I wear?”
“A black tux with a rose gold tie and vest.”
He nods, seeming pleased with my choice of colors.
“Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?” he asks.
Happiness bursts in my chest. “Anywhere.”
“How many kids do you want?”
“Two,” I answer without hesitating. “I want them to be close like Viktor and me.”
Luca leans forward, resting his elbows on the bed. “You know I spend half the year in Italy. Will you be okay moving between two homes?”
“You’re my home.”