Don Salvatore awoke with the darkness still clinging to his skin. His gaze pierced through the window, twinkling with the light of thousands of stars that were slowly winking out one by one as the sun rose. Anxiety and hatred simmered in his veins like boiling water, churning within as he thought about Antonio Greco. A man he had partnered with four years and despised even more - a venomous snake who'd slither away with his family's money and respect if given half a chance. He needed protection, and Rolando, his third underboss and cugina, was the perfect choice.
As he and Indira stepped into the shower, the steam rose like a fog, enveloping them in an intimate embrace. The warm water cascaded over their bodies as they washed each other with passionate touches. Sensual moans echoed off the walls as they made love in the shower. Don Salvatore's fervent desire for Indira knew no bounds as they moved together, and neither could she get enough of him. But as the water turned cold and their bodies shivered, Don Salvatore returned to the present. They had to get to the office because of all the meetings he had lined up.
He needed to speak to his cugina, Rolando. Don Salvatore sharply dressed himself in a black suit, his white shirt looking as if it had just been pressed and his royal blue tie impeccably knotted. He had fought for every step to get here, and he was determined to make an impression. Indira slipped into a sinuous red dress that clung to her curves like a second skin. She added a black blazer and high-heeled shoes that gave her a statuesque, powerful appearance; Don Salvatore's breath caught as she strode past him. Indira quickly moved to gather her belongings. She was always prepared for whatever task she had to face.
Stepping out of the mansion, Don Salvatore's driver, Russell, held the door open for them as they hurried to the waiting SUV. In a moment, he had pulled Indira close and situated them both in the backseat, his arm around her protectively. The war was barreling closer, but first, before any violence befell them, it was essential his parents' funerals were treated with respect. All agreed to send their bodies back to Italy, where his uncles and Capos still ran their territories with an iron fist. Here he would make sure that everything went according to plan.
The clock is ticking down to zero hour. In just a few short days, he and Indira will have to face their last goodbye as they board a plane to Italy alongside his remaining family. Each step feels heavy with the weight of death looming overhead like an inevitable storm cloud, threatening to shatter their hearts irreparably. The only comfort is the knowledge that they are not alone in their grief.
As the sun rose, Don Salvatore and Indira made their way to the office. They arrived at the entrance of the building just as the clock struck 7am. Indira marched to her office, anticipation rising as she knew Salvatore had assigned guards to meet her every need. The thought of her father soon arriving made her excited, she was always happy to see him whenever he came into the country.
Don Salvatore stalked the hallway to his office, rage burning hot in his veins. Leah was already there and he felt his anger rise as he noticed her attire - it hugged her curves in ways that should not be acceptable in a professional environment. Leah heard the thunderous bellow reverberate through the walls of the building. His voice seemed to shake the foundations and his words were like daggers, piercing the air with razor-like clarity.
He demanded her presence in his office immediately, leaving no room for argument or hesitation. Leah's heart pounded in her chest as she made her way to Don Salvatore's office. She knew she was in trouble, but wasn't exactly sure why. Had she done something wrong? Was it her clothing? Anxiety gnawed at her as she reached for the doorknob. When Leah stepped into Don Salvatore's office, the air sizzled with tension. His eyes were narrowed in an intimidating glare and he gestured for her to sit down. Every nerve in her body was on alert as she made her way towards him, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest.
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Cries of His Heart (Italian Billionaire's Heart BWWM)
Historical FictionSalvatore Marchetti, a 34 year old self-made billionaire, was haunted by his past. He'd been betrayed by the one he loved and adored more than anyone else; Emma Miller, who had cheated on him with his half-brother Armando Marchetti. This only added...
