Going After Heaven (Mafia Romance)

Chapter Twenty Two

11:48 pm.

I groan as I look at the screen of my phone.

Gabriele is still not back from his date with Helena. I'm not exactly keeping tabs, I'm just having my third cup of coffee and reading the first chapter of Nimona for the maybe twentieth time.

My mind is refusing to absorb any information or retain it. My heart keeps spinning like it's some spinning globe toy a child can't get enough of every time I think about what they could be talking about for the past four, now almost five hours.

I should be thinking about project LID, I should be more concerned about the fact that I might not be here on this fucking earth in a few days.

I should be worried that Black Rifle is yet to take the bait from Cobalt and say if he will be meeting him or not. I should be worried about leaving Helena without a protector, I know Gael and Damon will protect her with everything they've got and guide her, but it is not the same when I do it. I should be worried about even Rosita and how she will cope without me bossing her around.

I should be concerned with everything else but no, I am more concerned about Gabriele's whereabouts, and what he is fucking doing at the moment.

I am more concerned that he might have followed her home and they might be having... fuck it!

I close the book and reach for my cigar resting on an ashtray on my desk by the window of my bedroom. I puff and exhale, watching the smoke blur out the streets of Mexico in front of me.

I've been restless on this chair, my fingers trembling and my toes curled up like someone cursed by a witch to have no rest.

More than being concerned about what he is doing, I am concerned about the fact that I am this concerned. I shouldn't be this concerned. I shouldn't want them not to be together. I can't want that.

This ownership I want to so badly have over him like I can crest my name into him and brand him the same way I brand the steel from the factory, it is wrong. It should have no place here.

I am married dammit!

I hear a click and quickly rush to the still-damaged door connecting my room to Gabriele's room. I push the door slightly to see him walk in and close the door behind him.

Earlier today, when Rosita had said Gabriele asked for her to send a repair man home to fix the door, I had told her she'd lose her job if anyone goes close to the broken door and ended the call immediately. I didn't give any thought as to why that had been my response to fix the door.

Now I know. I know as I stand by the door, snooping while Gabriele unbuttons his shirt. It excites me to watch him. I feel ashamed of myself. But the excitement in my stomach chokes every little voice of reasoning from speaking up.

His back is to me and his sooty curls are draping to his lower back. The gunshot wound looks better and the skin around it is a dark purple.

"Are you going to leave or do you want to watch me strip?" his baritone ricochets in my stomach as he throws his black button-down shirt on the bed covered In gray sheets.

My stomach rumbles with uneasiness. I push the door wide open and walk into his room with my cigar in hand and nothing but a horse blood red net lingerie on.

"How was it?" I ask and look away as he turns to pin his eyes above me.

"Why are you still awake and what are you doing sneaking up on me?" He unclasps his belt, then sits on the bed to get out of his dress shoes.

"I just wanted to make sure you are okay" I gulp, aware I sound stupid. Pathetically stupid.

"I am, and she is too, I made sure of that," he says and stands again.

She is? So he took her home, which is not a bad thing because he picked her up and he should take her home and be sure she is safe before leaving, but now I want to know if he went inside with her.

"You took her home?" I puff my cigar and exhale deeply.

"I did," he says and pulls out his belt from the hoop.

"Did you go in with her" I mutter, more like grumbling because I can hardly even hear myself.

"That is classified.." he unzips his trouser. The Sharp sound cuts into my skin as his cold response did to my heart.

"Unclassified it" I try to meet his eyes but he looks away.

"Acero I need to change up," he gestures with his eyes to the door.

I should leave. This is unprofessional of me. I am the boss and I should at least act like one. I wanted this coldness and professional attitude from him. It was all I thought I wanted but right now I'm refusing to have it.

I don't want it right now because I want to know if he fucked her. I want to know so badly my skin burns.

I want to know if he let her touch him. If he touched her or let her feel the warmth of his breath while he sucks her breast just like it was with me. I want to know, and I can't leave until I know.

"Gabriele, did you fuck her?" I blurt.

"That is none of your..."

"Answer me!" I snap, closing the distance between us. My voice doesn't feel like my own. It's quavering and the walls of my stomach are in sync with it. "Please..." I say breathlessly. Feeling so many emotions sprint through my veins to knot in my chest. "Tell me please" I move further into him and rest my forehead on his taut tattooed torso.

Sniffing that grandeur for scent oozing from him.

He exhales, "No" he whispers and I let out a deep calming breath as the vibration of those words registers in my brain.

That is all I wanted to hear. I've never liked the word no like I do at the moment. I nod, gather myself up and walk hurriedly out of his room before my tongue goes spilling the one thing I want to say after that answer.

Please don't ever fuck her. Don't ever fuck anyone.