Salvatore

19

I am in heaven—actual heaven.

It was midnight when we arrived at our hotel, and I was in awe. I've stayed at luxury hotels before, but this is something else. This place looks like it's about to welcome the royals.

Our suite is huge. Right beside the door, there's a fancy kitchen with a black stone countertop, a breakfast bar, and all kinds of appliances. Further into the room, there's a glass top dining table, with a bouquet of flowers on top. Near the back of the suite, there's a sunken living room. There's a glass coffee table, cream coloured couches, and a projector TV.

Sainte and I are staying in the same room. It's not as big as his bedroom at him, but the bed is. It's so soft and comfortable, I slept like a baby. I pretty much collapsed as soon as we made it to the hotel. I barely even remember the car ride over. When I woke up this morning, all my luggage was in my room, and a whole buffet was displayed out on the kitchen bench—warm croissants, bacon, eggs, everything. I tried not to eat too much, but I couldn't resist. I even had a croissant, and it was well worth it.

I'm on holiday. And in Italy for christ's sake! I might as well treat myself. I can never say no to some true Italian pasta.

"Morning, darling," Sainte walks into the room, his hair still wet from his shower. He didn't wake up insanely early this morning but stayed with me until I was up. It's strange to see him in shorts and a shirt instead of his suits, but it's something I'll have to get used to.

"Hi," I smile, eyeing him up and down. He looks so good. I don't know what it is, but when he's wet, I get wet. "Thanks for breakfast."

"That's okay. I see you ate a croissant," he motions to the plate on the counter.

"I did! I don't diet on holidays."

"Good," he smiles. "I've scheduled a pizza date for lunch, and pasta for dinner."

"You've got it all planned out, huh?" I tease.

"What can I say? I'm trying to sweep you off your feet."

"Well, you're succeeding," I hop off the barstool I'm currently sitting on and walk over to him. When I'm close enough, he snakes his arm around my waist, pulling me into him. I wrap my hands around his biceps, grabbing onto him in any way I can.

"You look nice today," he comments.

"Yeah? I haven't done my makeup yet."

"You don't have to. You still look beautiful."

"You're too sweet," I lean up to him, gently pressing my lips against his. "I love it when you're like this."

"Like what?"

"Relaxed," I say. "Playful."

"I'm just glad I get to spend time with you."

"You can spend time with me whenever you like," I meant it as a positive, but Sainte doesn't look happy anymore. He furrows his brows.

"Do you miss your job?" he asks. I pull back from him.

"I guess so," I nod. "But it's only been a few days."

"Would you be able to move your business to San Fransisco?"

"Well, I don't have any clients here, but I didn't when I moved to New York either."

"But you'd have to start all over again."

"Would I even be able to work if I have to lead the family?"

"If you'd like to, then yes."

"What would my duties even be?" I ask. I've always had a general idea, but there was never a regina when I was growing up, so I'm not sure.

"Mostly keeping me in check," he chuckles. "It's a partnership. We're meant to balance each other out."

"How will that work? What even is the work?"

"it's mostly planning, making sure our warehouses keep moving so we don't stay in one place too long, preparing for an attack, keeping contacts, meeting with department heads to ensure everything's working as usual."

"That sounds pretty standard," I shrug. At least, half of those things are necessary for any business.

"We can divide the work, or do it together. You seem to care a lot about my men, so if you'd like, you could be somewhat of a representative for them."

"I can do that," I nod. "It all just sounds a little boring, to be honest."

"You won't have to do anything you don't want to do," he assures me, reaching for my hand. "As long as you're involved in the family, I'm happy."

My smile returns. I lean back into him, and he doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around me again.

"You're perfect," I tell him. "I'm very happy right now."

"I apologise for taking you away from your home."

"It's okay," I assure him. "I always knew I'd come back to San Fransisco eventually."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Very," I lean up to him. "especially if I get to be with you."

"I like the sound of that," his hand slides down to my ass, just like it did in the conference room.

"We're in Rome now," I comment, excitement spreading through my body.

"We are," he smirks teasingly.

"Does that mean we can..."

"There's nothing I'd want more."

And just like that, he scoops me up. I squeal loudly as my body is lifted into the air. I wrap my legs around him, holding on tightly. He carries me back into our bedroom, tossing me onto the bed. He stands over me with a hungry look in his eyes, but it can't be any more desperate than mine.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asks. I nod eagerly.

"Definitely," I grin.

"Good," he climbs over me on his hands and knees, barely touching me until he reaches the collar of my shirt. He pressed a gentle kiss on the base of my neck, slowly working his way up. I throw my arms over his shoulders, begging him for more.

I want him.

I want him more than I've wanted anything in years.