His Tesoro: An Arranged Marriage Age Gap Mafia Romance (Empire of Royals Book 1)
His Tesoro: Chapter 74

We were leaving Chicago. This time, I wouldn’t allow any distance between my wife and me on the plane. We were in the bedroom at the back of the jet, curled up on the bed. Sofiya sat between my legs, bundled up in a blanket, and my arms were tight around her. Too tight, but I was scared of letting go. Terrified that at any moment, she would realize who was holding her and push me away.

Neither of us had said anything since getting on the plane, and our unspoken words weighed heavy between us.

“To be fair,” Sofiya said, finally breaking the silence, “at least our wedding was better than that one.”

It took me a beat to process her words, and then I broke out into a laugh that was fuller and brighter than I’d experienced in years. My entire body shook, and so did hers until tears streamed down her face.

“Fuck, tesoro. You are the best thing in the entire universe.”

The past few days had been the worst of my life, and the days ahead were filled with uncertainty, but nothing could destroy the rightness of having my wife in my arms. I stroked my hand down her hair. “Sofiya, I am so, so sorry. For not trusting you, for putting you in that cell, for scaring you, not protecting you. I don’t expect your forgiveness because I’m not worthy of it, but I need you to know I will work every single day to give you the life you deserve.”

My words weren’t good enough—I wasn’t good enough for her—but they were what I had to offer.

She let out a deep breath, and I forced myself to wait patiently for her to speak. “How do I know you won’t turn on me again? It was nothing to you to throw me in there.” Her voice was broken and painfully vulnerable.

I squeezed her closer, running my hand down her arms, her back, her hips. “I know it doesn’t make it any better, but it was torture to put you in there. I regretted it the moment we left. But I was raised to believe that being Don means never backing down. I thought that changing my mind, changing my order, would have made me weak.”

“And a Don can’t be weak.”

I swallowed hard. “You know my parents were murdered?”

Her eyes flicked to mine, brow furrowing slightly, and she nodded.

“The night they were killed, Sienna had roped me into watching a movie with her. We were in the den and the house phone rang. I picked it up. It was the guard at the gate asking if he could let my uncle in.” My breaths grew shallow as my chest tightened. It had been years since I’d spoken of this, since I’d let myself even think about it, at least in my waking hours.

Sofiya ran her fingers across my chest until she gripped the back of my neck. Her touch loosened the lump in my throat enough to keep going.

“There had been tension between my uncle and my parents, but I said he could come in. I let him into the fucking house. It wasn’t long before we heard a gunshot, followed by a scream. My mother’s scream.”

It was Sofiya’s turn to hold me tight. She didn’t interrupt, didn’t pressure me to keep going. She was just here, with me.

“I had to make a decision—run to the study to save my parents or escape with Sienna. She was so little, so scared. She grabbed my hand, and I knew I had to save her. We ran to a secret passageway that led out of the house, but before we slipped away, I heard the second gunshot.”

My eyes burned and, against my will, a tear ran down my face. Sofiya brushed it away.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

I shook my head. “I should have done more. If I hadn’t let my uncle in, if I had run to the study⁠—”

“Then you would have died.”

I knew she was right, even though I couldn’t quite make my heart believe it. It was the same thing Sienna had said to me. Romeo, too. “I see their blood in my dreams. Hear the gunshots and the screaming. It haunts me every night… at least every night you’re not by my side.”

“You make my nightmares go away, too,” she murmured.

I wiped away another tear and kissed her forehead.

“I want to forgive you,” she said softly.

I froze.

My heart skipped a beat before it started racing in double-time.

She twisted her fingers in my shirt. “You broke my trust, and it’s going to take a while to rebuild that.”

“But you think I can rebuild it?”

She tilted her head up. Her eyes were so fucking beautiful. “You’ll have to do a lot of groveling. I hope you’re prepared.”

My lips twitched. “And what will this groveling entail?”

She pressed her face into the crook of my neck and breathed in deeply. “That’s for you to figure out. But it involves a lot of New York City hot dogs.”

“I will buy you your own hot dog cart. All the carts in the city.” An idea flashed into my mind and my chest tightened, but this time with a thread of hopefulness and excitement. “In fact, I will help you check off every item on your list.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.” I would do whatever it took to fulfill every single item.

“Maybe we should make a new list together.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I would love that, tesoro. Just as I love you.”

She breathed in sharply. “You love me?”

I had a vague memory of saying it after I was shot, but this was the first time I spoke the words with full clarity. They left my lips like it was the easiest thing in the world. I thought I’d been protecting myself from pain by closing myself off from my wife. But the greatest suffering I could ever endure was being separated from her.

“Of course I do. More than anything.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered. She held my gaze, her eyes swimming with tears, and then our lips crashed together. I gripped her chin, pulling her close as I devoured her. She shifted on my lap until she was straddling me, and I groaned at the change of position. I got lost in the taste of her, in her sweet scent, in the feel of her body pressed against mine.

I kissed my way down her jaw and sucked a spot on her neck. I needed to mark her, to shout at the entire world that she was mine.

The plane lurched with turbulence, pulling us apart. Sofiya grinned at my scowl, running her fingers across the lines on my forehead. “Wait, am I hurting your leg?” She tried to move off my lap, and I tightened my hold on her waist.

“I thought you’d learned to stay where I put you.” I arched my eyebrows. The bullet wound in my thigh burned, but I needed the pain. It was my way of repenting, for suffering a fraction of what I’d inflicted on her.

“Sorry for being concerned for you,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Naughty girl.”

She made a little disgruntled sound but curled into my chest.

I ran my hand up and down her back. “My memories from after I was shot are hazy, but”—Anxiety choked me, but I forced myself to continue speaking—“I keep hearing these words repeat in my mind, like through a fog. Your words. But I’m not sure if they’re real or not.”

She stilled in my arms.

“You said something… something about a baby.”

Sofiya kept her head against my chest, and I was sure she could hear my frantic heartbeats. She unbuttoned the top few buttons of my shirt and traced her fingers along the words emblazoned on my chest. “I would have done something cute to tell you, but I was a little busy saving your life.”

My heart stuttered.

“You’re pregnant, tesoro?” I tried to pull back to look her in the eyes, but she pressed her face into my neck and refused to move.

“It’s super early, so I could still lose it.”

Panic gripped me. “Is something wrong with the baby?” What if everything she’d gone through had hurt the baby? It would be my fault. I’d never thought about what it meant to be a father. Children had always been just an abstract concept of “heirs,” but now it was real—a combination of Sofiya and me. And I wanted it, longed for it.

She shifted and I loosened my arms enough for her to pull something out of her pocket. “It’s a little crumpled, but there it is.”

She handed me a small printout of an ultrasound. I had no idea what I was looking at until she pointed at a tiny white oval. “That’s the embryo. The doctor said I’ll need another ultrasound in a few weeks. We might be able to hear the baby’s heartbeat then.”

I ran my fingers down the picture. We’d created that. It was part of us.

“It’s a cute blob, right?” she asked.

“The very cutest.”

We lay back on the bed, holding the ultrasound, staring at it in contented silence. I brushed my hand across her stomach, willing our little blob to grow strong.

Sofiya started fidgeting with the collar of my shirt.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Shouldn’t I feel something right now about Rustik? Like sad or guilty about killing my own father? But I don’t, and that makes me feel like something is wrong with me.”

I hated the uncertainty in her voice. I cupped the back of her head. “No, tesoro. You don’t have to feel anything about it. When I killed my uncle, all I felt was relief. I admired him when I was younger, even saw him as a second father figure. But in the end, he was nothing to me, and neither was your father.” I stroked her hair and kissed her temple. “I know all I feel is pride. Pride at how strong you are, how protective.”

“Thanks, miliy.”

Hearing the term of endearment on her tongue made my heart ache.

When it was time for our descent, we moved to the front of the plane. A smile twisted Sofiya’s lips when I buckled her seatbelt for her. She would just have to get used to me taking care of her.

I played with her hair as we approached the airport, pausing when I realized I still had an unanswered question. “Did you see who shot Domenico and the other men with him?” I asked. “They must have run away afterwards.” The explosion and everything that happened after had wiped it from my mind, but it didn’t sit right that I didn’t know who had saved me. “For that matter, how did you get away from Rustik?”

Sofiya snorted. “Are you serious?”

“What?”

She fixed me with an exasperated expression. “Maybe Domenico was right about your lack of brain cells.”

I furrowed my brow, and she just rolled her eyes.

“I killed three guards who came into my cell to—” She swallowed, and my hands flexed around hers. She had just told me they were dead, but the urge to return to the warehouse to kill them again overtook me.

“Did they touch you?” My voice was low, dangerous.

“No, I stopped them before they… Well, anyway, I took their guns and was looking for the exit when I saw Domenico. I realized he must have been the traitor and I followed him. After that, it was easy to take them out.”

My mouth gaped.

She rolled her eyes and then patted my cheek. “Don’t worry. I won’t think less of you, even though you’re a way worse shot than I am.”

I shook my head. “You’re magnificent, tesoro.”

She settled back into my chest. “I know.”