- RORY -
Raya and I are barely in the cabina in a few minutes before Dex cos in to grab his things. I’m surprised when he only murmurs in her ear briefly and kisses her once before leaving. I’m also surprised Luciano didn’t co with him considering how reluctant he was to let go.
I walk a glass of water over to my sister who is staring at the door where Dex left, hands pressed against her cheeks.
"Are you okay?" I ask, touching her shoulder lightly. "Here, drink so water."
"I’m getting married tomorrow," she whispers, taking the glass from without question. "It’s actually happening. And that beautiful man is going to be my husband."
"You deserve it, sis. You’re pretty beautiful yourself."
While she’s drinking the water, she grabs a section of her hair and looks at it. For so reason it doesn’t impress her.
"Your hair is beautiful, Raya. But I’m talking about your soul."
When a few n in suits appear on the deck, I secure the second lock on the door and guide Raya to the bedroom. It should be comforting that guards are here, and it is. It is comforting. But it’s also a reminder of just why they’re needed.
"Do you have everything ready for tomorrow?" I ask Raya as she sits on the bed, still appearing dazed. "Is there anything we need to do?"
"I don’t know," she sighs and flops backward. I rush forward and grab her glass before it can spill, setting it on the bedside table.
"Wow, I didn’t realize you had that much to drink," I giggle and lay down next to her. "Do you want to brush your teeth or anything?"
Her eyes are already closed, and she shakes her head with a small groan. "Am I going to have a headache in the morning, Roar?"
"I hope not. Maybe you should drink the rest of your water just in case."
But she’s already snoring lightly by the ti I finish the sentence. I roll my eyes and get up to tuck her legs under the blanket. Here I thought we would have a little bit of fun, but it looks like it’s straight to bed.
My phone rings, and I answer it when I realize it’s Luciano. "Yeah?"
"Hey, I’m outside with your toothbrush."
I chuckle and go out to see him resting against the door.
"How do I know it’s really you?" I smirk, continuing the phone conversation despite the fact that I’m staring at him through the door.
"Hmm. Good point. Maybe we need a code word. How about..." He looks around like inspiration is going to fall from the Costa Rican sky. "Dolcezza."
"That’s not a bad one." I undo the locks and open the door for him. "But I feel like I need a nickna for you."
"What do you have in mind?" He asks, ending the call and handing a small pile of clothes with my toothbrush on top.
"These aren’t my clothes," I laugh. "Is this your shirt?"
"I’d like to know you’re wearing it tonight," he says with a wink.
The look he gives next makes heat spiral down my center.
"Are you too good to be true, Luciano?" I ask, squinting at him.
"?" He chuckles. "A relationship with cos with more complications and risks than probably anyone else you would ever et. So I’m going to say no. You, on the other hand? You feel too good to be true, Lorelei."
"Really?" I hold up my injured hand like it’s proof of the contrary.
"Really," he smiles, taking my hand and pressing a gentle kiss into the palm. "Where’s Raya?"
"She passed out already."
"The drinks down here are strong," he chuckles. Then his gaze is drawn to all the glass walls surrounding us. He’s still bothered, of course. And worried. I can tell when he looks back at , but he doesn’t voice it. "Want to stay for awhile?" He asks instead.
My instinct to insist that I’m fine stays inside, and I nod. I’m so far out of my comfort zone right now. It feels like trusting him with these feelings and giving in to the need for him is like walking out onto a suspension bridge that’s being built one plank at a ti as we go.
What if it doesn’t make it to the other side? What if I’m left out here, dangling above a hundred foot drop after he decides this isn’t for him?
"Let’s talk," he suggests, gesturing toward the table. "Did you get enough to eat?"
"Yes. I’m stuffed," I laugh. "It was delicious. And I love your mom."
"I think I might hate yours," he says with a grimace.
"Yeah. What a ss, right?" I groan and sit at the table. "I’m trying to pretend that didn’t happen. It’s going to take a lot to process. She didn’t really give us any answers that make sense. It’s... surreal."
Luciano sighs and stares out the window.
"It’s okay to hate her," I add, folding my hands on the table. "Especially when you have such an amazing family. I can’t imagine one of your parents even considering leaving you and Vanessa."
"Well," he shrugs. "We were always going to be safer together. My father has a lot of powerful friends. It’s not a fair comparison."
"Right," I smile, feeling the familiar complicated knot of emotions twist whenever my mother is concerned. Now, with her back, things have only gotten more complicated.
"If Saul Ricca thought his family would have been safer without him, he would have left us. Sotis a decision like that requires sacrifice. And usually..." He pauses like this is a delicate subject, which I suppose it is.
"Usually what?" I ask, opening my hands to encourage the answer.
"Usually the circumstances that would require a sacrifice like leaving the ones you love are not easy to explain. They’re complicated. Very complicated."
"Hmm," I nod, running that over in my mind. "Maybe we’ll just never know the reasons. Or all the answers. Maybe I’ll never be able to really get to know or trust my mother."
"But maybe you will," he offers. "Now there’s at least an opportunity. And you get to decide."
I clear my throat, resisting a well of emotions that want to surface at that suggestion. "Want so water or sothing?"
His gaze caresses like a comforting touch that doesn’t require words. "Sure, dolcezza."
I peak in on Raya and hear her still snoring softly.
"Are you going to tell Dex his bride is asleep?" I giggle when I return to the table with two glasses.
"Good idea." Luciano pulls his phone out. "He probably won’t like the idea that I’m spending ti with her when he isn’t allowed to."
A monkey drops onto the deck from one of the trees and walks around, investigating.
"This place is beautiful. It’s a sha we haven’t really been able to enjoy it."
"It is beautiful," he agrees, putting his phone away and staring at . "But I prefer you."
I snort and cover my face. "Oh my god, stop."
"What?" He laughs. "It’s the truth."
"Fine," I groan. "Just... stop saying things like that all the ti. It’s weird."
"Hopefully one day you’ll stop thinking complints are weird," he sighs and takes my hand from where it’s resting on the table.
"But like... you don’t have to compare to Costa Rica," I chuckle. "It’s okay to just admit that sothing else is beautiful."
"I did." He tilts his head curiously. "You think I’m lying. That it’s a line or sothing. That’s why it makes you uncomfortable, right? It’s not a line, Rory. I’m not playing you."
"I know," I say and take a long drink of my water. Then I spin the glass around on the table, letting all of the things that have happened here sink in.
"Will you tell again?" I ask finally.
"Tell you what again?" His eyebrows thread together as he traces paths in the palm of my uninjured hand. When I don’t answer, one side of his lips tips up in amusent. But then the crooked smile vanishes, and sothing deeply intense replaces it. "I love you, Rory."
He figured out what I was asking.
On the face of it, they’re just words. But when Luciano says them, with the way he looks at , I feel those words like a pair of wings opening in my chest.
This love is sothing I’ve never experienced before. It could break . Completely shatter to pieces. But deep inside, I know it’s worth it.
"Luciano," I sigh, a rush of breath leaving , taking flight... trusting the distance between us. "I love you, too."
My cheeks heat the mont I say it, because it’s so foreign. And every cell in my body is aware of the risk I’m taking. It also sounds completely cheesy when I say it, so I guess I’m going to have to practice more.
Luciano leans across the table and takes my face in his hands, thumbs running over my cheeks, eyes descending to my lips. And then he kisses . Slowly, tongue rolling over mine.
He’s savoring the taste of the words, I realize. Making sure they’re real. So I give him every reason I can to believe it until we’re practically crawling over the table to get to one another.
"You love ?" He asks, panting when our lips part.
"Yes, Luci," I say, gasping for air in return. "I do. I love you."
Sothing about the desperation of the breaths between us makes the sentint sound much less cheesy this ti, and he grabs , lifting in his arms and carrying to the kitchen counter. Standing between my legs, his fingers thread into my hair, and he kisses like I’m the source of his air—just . alone.
My legs wrap around his waist, drawing him closer, encouraging him to get as close as he can until I’m whimpering into his mouth, hoping that he just decides to devour entirely.
"Marry , Lorelei," he says, pulling back to stare into my eyes. "Be my wife."
My mouth is open, panting with a need for air, when what he said finally registers. There’s no script for this—no words that I’ve prepared. So I just say the first thing that cos to mind.
"Okay."
"Okay?" He asks with a chuckle, a smile so beautiful lighting his face that it makes my heart ache. He looks like a little kid. Like he’s experiencing the simplest, purest emotion. And I’m the reason.
Tears prickle behind my eyes, and before I know it, I’m giggling and crying at the very sa ti. "Yes."
"Yes?" He repeats again, his smile growing. "Do you know what you’re saying, Rory?"
"I’m saying yes, Luciano," I laugh softly, realizing that he’s just as surprised as I am. "I want to marry you. And you want to marry ?"
"Is that a question?" He chuckles, tracing my lips. "If it is, the answer is fuck, yes."
"Okay," I smile, feeling like I’m suddenly full of light and air and all of the beautiful things at the end of a fairytale.
"Okay," he repeats, wiping my tears, tracing my lips, kissing . "Lorelei Gray," he says between brief, passionate kisses. "My fiancé."
"Luciano Ricca," I smile against his lips. "My fiancé."
It draws a soft, pleased growl from him.
"It sounds good, doesn’t it?" He asks and then kisses my neck, making shiver.
"Really good."
A sharp rap on the glass door startles , and without thinking, my fingers curl tightly into his shirt.
"You’re safe, dolcezza." Luciano doesn’t even look to see who it is. His attention stays on , and for so reason that’s more reassuring than anything. "You’ll always be safe when I’m here, tesoro. Always."
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