The Honeymoon
Day 5
ALEXIS
The moon hangs high, a sliver of silver light spilling through the open balcony doors. The breeze is cool against our sweat-dampened skin. Aemelia is curled up against my chest, her head tucked beneath my chin as we both catch our breath from the wild, reckless way we just took each other apart. My palm drifts over the curve of her bare hip, lazy and possessive, while my other hand strokes up and down her spine in a slow, steady rhythm.
She sighs contentedly, tracing a finger over the inked serpent coiled around my chest.
“What does this one mean?” she asks softly.
I glance down, then smile faintly. “It’s supposed to symbolize rebirth. Starting over. Shedding old skin.” I brush her hair back from her face, holding her gaze as I add, “I got it after Mario… when I realized I had to carry on even though he was gone. Back then, I was shedding a past I wanted to climb back into, but now… now I’m shedding a past to make a future with you.”
Her breath stutters slightly, and her fingers curl faintly against my chest as if trying to anchor herself to me.
“You’re always so full of surprises,” she murmurs, pressing her lips to the center of my chest.
I smirk faintly, unable to resist a little mischief. “You haven’t seen anything yet, piccola.”
She laughs softly, but her eyes are still glassy with emotion. Her fingers trail over the ink on my skin with slow, reverent strokes, and I suddenly feel too full of her. Too full of everything I’ve been keeping locked inside.
I flip her onto her back, hovering over her, watching the moonlight spill over her skin like a celestial blessing. Her thick dark hair spills in shining chestnut waves over the crisp white linen, her sun-kissed skin glowing, her eyes sparkling with amusement and love. She’s so beautiful it hurts.
“I don’t deserve you,” I rasp, my throat tight with the rawness of the confession. “But that doesn’t mean I’m ever letting you go.”
Her expression softens, and she reaches up, brushing her knuckles over my jaw. “I don’t want you to.”
Her voice is quiet but sure, steady as the tide. And just like that, the dam inside me shatters.
I crush my mouth against hers, pouring everything into the kiss—the darkness, the devotion, the obsession. She tastes like the exotic fruit we just ate, warm and everything I never thought I could have.
“Ti amo, Aemelia,” I whisper hoarsely against her lips. “I’ll love you until the day they put me in the ground, and when I become the earth, it will love you, too.”
Her fingers curl in my hair, holding me there, and I know she’s not letting go.
She never will.
And neither will I.
Day 6
AEMELIA
The room is cloaked in darkness, save for the faint silver light filtering in through the open balcony doors. The damp scent of the midnight ocean mixes with the soft fragrance of the spray of white flowers that decorate the oak console table. Outside, the waves whisper against the stilts, soft and steady, keeping time with the slow rise and fall of their breathing.
I lay on my side, bare beneath the sheets, tangled between them. Antonio’s arm is draped possessively over my waist, his hand splayed against my stomach even in sleep, as if afraid I’ll slip away. Luca is behind me. His long frame is curled protectively along my back, one hand tangled in my hair, anchoring me to him. And Alexis is sprawled lazily on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other resting just close enough to brush against my thigh, even in sleep.
I can’t help but smile softly, my heart pulling tight in my chest. These men, these ruthless, impossible men, are so vulnerable and trusting in sleep, and they’re mine.
I brush my fingertips over Antonio’s knuckles, tracing the rough edges of his calloused hands—the same hands that have taken lives without hesitation but now touch me with a tenderness so reverent it leaves me breathless.
I tilt my head slightly, watching Luca’s face in the slant of moonlight. His features are softer like this, the ever-present tension in his jaw loosened, the sharp cut of his cheekbones softened by the shadows. His scar gleams in the moonlight, slicing through the perfection of his handsomeness like a golden crack in a kintsugi vase, an imperfection that transforms him. I’ve seen him command a room with a single glance and bend men to his will with nothing more than a clipped word, but right now, he sleeps like he hasn’t carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Alexis’ fingers shift, brushing my skin, and I sigh. I’m used, sore, and bruised all over, but the more they pleasure me, the more I need. I’m like an addict jonesing for a hit. I smile at his lazy arrogance, at his dark waves falling in a tangle over his face. A conqueror at rest, a wolf satisfied. His lips are parted slightly, the faintest crease between his brows, even now, as though daring the world to try and take me from him.
My men. My protectors. My everything.
A year ago, I could never have imagined this life. That I’d be stolen and kept, claimed by three ruthless, broken men who painted the world in blood and vengeance, yet somehow, made me their home. Or that I’d fight them with everything I had, clawing and cursing, only to fall harder than I ever thought possible.
I think of the girl I once was, who fought with her fists raised and teeth bared, who refused to be weak. The girl who never let anyone too close, who built walls so high she thought no one could ever scale them, who shouldered all the weight of her family’s failures without question, even when she was far too young.
But now I stand in the ruins of who she was, and I don’t mourn her. I honor her because she was brave enough to survive, strong enough to claw her way through hell and still find her way to them.
My mafia men who turned my walls to dust, who burned them, piece by piece, until I was naked before them. And instead of destroying me, they held me in their bloodstained hands and made me theirs. My Luca, whose touch makes the world fall away, whose devotion is quiet but bone-deep and immovable. The man with steel in his veins and mercy only for me. My Antonio, who burns with conviction, his fury once a fire that threatened to consume me but is now the blaze that keeps me warm. My Alexis, whose grin is a devil’s promise, but whose hands on me are worshipful, tender, unshaken even when the world is falling apart.
I stroke my fingers slowly through Luca’s hair, feeling him shift slightly in his sleep, his brow twitching as if he senses me. I press a soft kiss to Antonio’s shoulder, feeling his hold on me tighten instinctively, and I brush my lips over Alexis’ knuckles, grinning softly when he lets out a small, drowsy grunt as if even in sleep, he ready to fight for me.
I was never meant to be theirs; too young, from a distant place, living a life outside their world.
But fate, cruel and beautiful, made me belong to them anyway.
And now, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I press my palm to my belly and wonder if we’ve created a life on this trip of a lifetime. I hope the love we’ve shared and the memories we’ve made will be sealed by a child.
I know for all their sins that they’ll be the most attentive fathers. Alexis will bring the teasing fun to make them squeal with laughter. Antonio, the gentle care and watchfulness that will calm their emotions and chase away their nightmares, and Luca, the discipline and boundaries that will make them feel safe and loved.
I no longer fear the darkness of the world because I faced it and found the light of three imperfect men to show me the way.
I close my eyes, exhaling softly, and let their warmth cocoon me. The sound of their breathing, slow and steady and safe, is the last thing I hear before sleep finds me, too.
Home. I’m finally home.
(c) Stephanie Brother 2025
