The Mafia's Jewel (BWWM)

21

After hours of chaos, the situation is finally under control. I sit by Leone's car, wrapped in a blanket the medics gave me, trying to stave off the chill from the cold water. The events on the yacht still haunt me, a mixture of fear and adrenaline lingering in my veins.

Police officers mill around the area, their presence more for show than actual assistance, given their allegiance to the mafia.

I shiver again, pulling the blanket tighter around me. The night air feels biting, and the trauma of the evening only makes it worse. Leone approaches, his expression a mix of concern and determination.

"How are you?" he asks, his voice soft yet probing.

"Cold," I reply, my teeth chattering slightly.

Without hesitation, Leone slips off his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. The warmth is immediate, and I sigh in relief. "Thanks," I murmur, my eyes meeting him.

He sits beside me, his presence a comforting anchor in the aftermath of the chaos.

"Did you find anything?" I ask.

"The culprits ran off without leaving any evidence," he says, frustration lacing his words. "But I already know who's behind my attempted assassination."

"They are getting bold," I say.

He nods, his expression hardening with resolve. "They've been pushing boundaries lately, testing our strength."

We sit in silence for a moment, the weight of the night's events settling over us. The flickering lights of the police cars and the distant murmurs of the crowd create a surreal backdrop to our quiet conversation.

"You handled yourself well," Leone says after a while, his tone softer. "I'm impressed."

I manage a small smile, though it feels fragile. "Thanks. I just did what I had to."

He reaches out, taking my hand in his. His touch is warm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the cold fear that had gripped me earlier.

"What's your next move?"

Leone's eyes flash with determination. "We need to regroup, strengthen our defenses. And we need to send a message to our enemies that we won't be easily taken down."

The night wears on, and the police eventually disperse, their presence no longer necessary. The medics finish their rounds, and the crowd begins to thin. Leone and I remain by his car, the weight of the night's events still heavy on our shoulders. Leone then takes my hand and squeezes.

"Let's get you home," he says gently, helping me to my feet. "You need rest."

I nod, exhaustion finally catching up with me. The adrenaline that had kept me going is wearing off, leaving me feeling drained. Leone's arm around my shoulders is a comforting support as we make our way to the car.

Once inside, the warmth of the car's heater envelops me, and I lean back in the seat with a sigh of relief. Leone starts the engine, and I syar at him which capture his atteon.

"What is it, moi caro?"

"You drive?"

The corners of Leone's lips twitch as if he found my question rather annoying or entertaining–possibly both knowing how Leone seems to react to my words.

"I miei dei, you really think lowly of me do you?"

"I didn't think you could drive since you have people doing almost everything for you."

"Because I am the head of the mafia doesn't mean I don't know how to take care of myself. I'm not a principessa, principessa."

"I'm not a princess."

"You don't seem to complain when I have your ass bent–"

"Can you just shut and drive?"

Leone stares at me for a moment like he wants to continue trading me but he lets out a soft sigh and starts the car. We drive away from the scene, the night's events slowly fading into the background.

As we drive, I glance over at Leone. There's a steely resolve in his expression. A look of uncertainty.

I step out of the car, feeling the cool night air prickling my skin as Leone walks me to the door. The streetlights cast long shadows across the driveway, and the familiar scent of home washes over me. "Thanks for the ride," I tell him, my hand already reaching for the keys in my purse. "I'll see you tomorrow."

A soft meow from inside the house catches my attention, and I pause. "Let me say goodbye to my feline friend first," Leone says with a smile. I don't want him to enter, a part of me prefers privacy, but I nod reluctantly and push the door open.

Kiwi weaves through my legs, purring loudly. Leone crouches down, rubbing Kiwi's head while I watch them, my heart pounding for reasons I can't quite explain. When Leone finally stands, he faces me, his eyes intense under the dim hallway light. I shiver involuntarily.

"You're still cold," he observes, concern etched in his voice.

"Yeah–-water and night breeze don't mix well," I reply, hugging myself for warmth.

"Well, let me warm you up," he says softly, stepping closer. His presence is magnetic, and I find it difficult to step back.

His hand touches my arm first, a gentle caress that sends a shiver down my spine. I want to resist, to tell him to stop, but my body betrays me. He slides his hand to my waist, pulling me closer, his touch igniting a fire within me. I let him feel my lips with his, and soon, our kiss deepens, continuing where we had left off. His body pressed against mine, and I melted into him, my hands finding their way to his shoulders.

His touch is both comforting and electrifying that leaves me breathless. His hands explore my back, and I arch into him, lost in the moment.

My heart pounds wildly as Leone's hands slide under my dress, his fingers reaching for my panties. The thin cloth of my undies does little to mask the wetness there. "You're already feeling warmer," he whispers in a husky voice that sends shivers down my spine. I lose myself in his touch, my thoughts scattering as desire takes over.

Leone lifts me effortlessly and gently tosses me onto the couch. His weight presses down on me, and the heat between us intensifies. Our kisses grow more urgent, hands roaming freely, igniting fires wherever they touch. Just as my body surrenders completely to the moment, a voice shatters the haze.

"Boss."

We break apart, and I see Camellia standing in the living room, wincing and looking away from us. Leone curses in Italian, a string of sharp words that make Camellia tense with discipline.

"Sorry, boss," she says, her voice trembling. "I wanted to make sure you are safe. The culprits could have followed you here."

I sit up, smoothing my dress, my mind struggling to catch up with the sudden shift in mood. Leone stands, frustration evident in his stiff posture. He takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair before turning to Camellia.

"Grazie, Camellia," he says, his tone softer but still carrying an edge.

Camellia nods, her eyes still avoiding mine. "I'll be outside, keeping watch."

As she leaves, the tension in the room lingers. Leone turns back to me, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and longing. "I'm sorry about that," he says quietly, sitting beside me.

"It's okay," I reply, though my body still hums with the remnants of our interrupted passion.

He reaches for my hand, his touch gentle now. "We should probably call it a night," he says.

I nod, even though part of me wishes he wouldn't go. He lifts my hand to his lips for a soft kiss. "Buona notte."

"Goodnight," I reply back to him.

I watch him leave, the door closing softly behind him. My thoughts are a whirlwind of emotions. The night has left me shaken, but beneath the uncertainty, there's a flicker of excitement for what tomorrow might bring.