His Tesoro (Empire of Royals, #1)

by Emilia Rossi

“Right. Okay. So anyway, sorry to disrupt your night. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Matteo pinned me with another unimpressed look before turning around and striding into the bathroom. My confusion built when I heard the water running. Was he really running me a bath?

He looked and sounded irritated, but I cocked my head as I observed him and wondered if there was a chance I was reading him wrong. He could have easily left me alone, but he was still here… as if he cared about me.

He nodded and then, before I knew what was happening, I was back in his arms. I let out a squeak and clutched at his shoulders. “As if I would drop you,” he huffed, stepping into the bathroom.

He just sat me down on top of the vanity, his arms caging me in on either side. “Can you sit here? Or will you fall?” I scowled at him. “I’m not going to fall.” He smoothed his finger across my forehead. “Whatever you say.”

I could have sworn I saw the corner of his lips twitch as if he was teasing me.

in my short time here, he had already been kinder to me than most of the people in my life. Who, besides my sister, would ever care for me like this?

“Alright. Arms up.” “What?” “Do you have a habit of getting in the bath clothed?” “But you’re in here,” I said indignantly. “Indeed, I am. Arms up, Sofiya.” He stepped between my legs, his fingers teasing the bottom of the oversized sh...

“You are my wife and I’m your husband. You’re in pain, so I’m going to fix it.”

A wave of overwhelm washed over me, and I couldn’t stop myself from leaning forward and resting my head on his chest. I was so tired and my meds hadn’t kicked in yet. “I’m so confused,” I whispered. Matteo’s arms wrapped around me, and he pulled me closer. “Come on, tesoro. I don’t like seeing you in pain.”

I lifted my arms above my head as tears streaked down my cheeks. He slowly pulled it off, keeping his eyes fixed on my face. My cheeks burned, waiting for his judgement, but he just cupped my cheeks and wiped away my tears.

His jaw clenched as he took me in, and I wished more than anything I could hide. I jumped when he gently ran his fingers across a bruise on my leg. “What’s this from?” “I don’t know. I bruise easily.”

Matteo just leaned in to press a tender kiss to my forehead.

I was back in his arms and lowered into the bath. I moaned at how good the hot water felt on my aching joints. “Move forward,” he said. “What?” “Sit forward.” I scooted forward and Matteo slipped in behind me.

His breath skated across the top of my head as he wrapped his arms around me, guiding me to rest back on his chest. “What are we doing, Matteo?” “I’m taking care of you.”

“You didn’t take your wheelchair?” There was censure in his voice. I shrugged my shoulders. “Why?” “I didn’t want to be a nuisance. Or embarrass Sienna.”

“You have to take care of yourself. Or I’ll be forced to do it for you.” He traced a finger across my shoulder. “But maybe I wouldn’t mind that.”

“Just rest, tesoro.” It was the same thing he’d called me earlier. “What does that mean?” He stayed silent until I was sure he would refuse to answer me. “Treasure,” he finally said.

I let my eyes drift closed, feeling surprisingly safe in my husband’s arms.

I’d been sitting in the living room, staring out at the city with my scotch in hand, trying to escape my nightmares, when I heard the loud noise coming from Sofiya’s room. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt such sharp panic. I’d thrown down my glass, ignoring how it shattered against the floor as I sprinted to her.

But there hadn’t been any blood. Just her, curled up on the floor. But I didn’t relax, couldn’t relax, when I saw the tears on her cheeks. Sofiya had told me she often experienced joint pain, but seeing her like that… It twisted something in my chest.

But the feel of her skin against mine soothed me. I tipped my head back, resting it on the edge of the tub. I couldn’t remember ever feeling this relaxed… at least not since my parents died.

I’d done my best to keep distance between us, but with each passing day—passing minute—Sofiya twisted me further and further around her finger. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks: I wanted my wife.

Would she be interested in having a physical relationship with me? I hadn’t missed how her eyes trailed down my bare chest when she thought I wasn’t looking. For now, though, I was content to hold her in my arms.

I should leave her and go to my own bed. She wasn’t supposed to be anything to me. Just a player on the chessboard in this game Rustik and I were playing with the Albanians. But for some inexplicable reason, I didn’t want to leave her. My body moved of its own accord, lying down beside my wife.

I wasn’t sure what logic made me pull her against my chest and wrap my arms around her, but when she let out a contented sigh, the knot that had been in my chest all night eased completely.

I woke softly, as if floating on a cloud, from the best night’s sleep of my life. I kept my eyes closed and snuggled deeper into my ridiculously comfortable bed. Then something behind me shifted—no, someone.

His arms were still wrapped tight around me, his knee pressed between my legs. It was just the right position to take stress off my hips, like my very own body pillow.

Would he go back to keeping a cold distance, or was this the start of us connecting like a real husband and wife? I felt it the moment he woke. He stiffened behind me and quickly rolled away. I closed my eyes, disappointment washing through me like a tidal wave.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked, keeping his back to me. “A lot better than last night, yeah. Thanks for helping me.” I wanted to say more, wanted to say how much his care meant to me, but the words stuck in my throat. He was already at the door like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

When I was finally dressed and made my way out to the kitchen—in my wheelchair—I spotted something on the counter. It was a black credit card with my name on it, and a note that said, “Use this. No limit.”

His nickname is the Angel of Death.” I wanted to roll my eyes at yet another dramatic nickname.

do you think he’ll be a good husband?” There was a long silence. “I don’t know that any of us make good husbands. But if he hurts you, I will end him, I promise you that.”

“I was hoping for a juicier update but Sofiya, that’s amazing. He’s taking care of you.” A smile tugged at my lips. “Yeah, he is.”

“Thanks. Is Nikolai treating you well?” “He’s being a perfect gentleman.” I covered my mouth to stop myself from laughing at how perturbed she sounded. Nikolai had been our guard for four years, and Mila had been crushing on him from day one. She denied it, but I thought the reason she snuck out to hook up with other guys was to make Nikolai jealous.

“What’s going to go wrong? Do it! You deserve to live a little. You can cross it off the Dream List.” “Using drugs wasn’t on my Dream List.” “Well it should be. It’s on mine.”

Apparently Mafia Dons didn’t have streaming subscriptions. Probably too busy being scary and murderous.

Sofiya was lying down on the couch watching a movie in pale blue sweatpants, her hair tied up in a messy knot. “Matteo!” I frowned as I walked closer. “What is wrong with you?” Sofiya stuck her lip out in a pout. “That was mean.”

“I just took my new medicine.” What the fuck? I looked around the room until I found an opened package of edibles. “Pot?” “Shh,” she said, waving her arms. “I’m going to get in trouble.” I scrubbed my hand down my face. What was Dr. Amato thinking? “You certainly are trouble.”

I should leave. Go to the gym. Or my room. But somehow I found myself sitting down beside her.

“Have you seen this movie before?” Sofiya asked. “Yes.” “Oh, of course. I bet you studied it growing up.” My scowl deepened. “Did not.”

“So can I go? Angelo said you would disapprove, but I don’t see why. You could take me. It could be like a date.” The image of Sofiya holding a gun sent a weird, uncomfortable jolt through my chest. I should be the one to protect her.

“You’re so much hotter than Don Corleone and all his sons. None of them have hair as nice as yours.” She leaned towards me and I sat, frozen, as she ran her fingers through my hair. “Can I tell you a secret?” she whispered. I was so stunned at her touch I could barely form words. “Yes, tesoro.” “I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you.”

“I think it’s time for you to go to bed.” “But I haven’t even seen if the Mafia guys win.” My lips twitched. “Don’t worry, the Mafia guys win. Now, let’s get you to bed. I’m sure you’ll sleep well.”

when she lifted her arms up to me. I raised an eyebrow. “Carry me,” she demanded. “You’re either really high or playing me,” I grumbled. But I still leaned down and picked her up.

“You should snuggle with me again,” she said. “No.” “Meanie.” “You have got to work on your insults.”

“Do you like her more than me? She’s really pretty.” I huffed, running my hand through my hair. “Go to sleep, Sofiya.” “Wait, but do you?” she asked, lunging forward to grab my hand. I sighed. “No, tesoro. I don’t like her more than you. Now goodnight.”

“The third unit is for Sienna’s bodyguard. She keeps firing them, though, and it’s driving Matteo crazy.” Romeo looked very amused at the thought of Matteo’s irritation.

“Matteo thought Domenico could handle Sienna, but he underestimated his sister,” Angelo said. I grinned. I could totally picture Sienna running circles around all the Mafia men.

Romeo and Angelo kept bantering with each other as we made our way to one end of the hallway, and I felt like I had friends for the first time. They probably didn’t consider me a real friend since it was their job to watch me, but I didn’t mind pretending.

Romeo rubbed his hands together. “I wonder if we could hack the unit so it can go faster.” Before I could get too excited about the process of racing in my wheelchair, Angelo shut us down. “The Boss will kill you.” “Worth it,” Romeo said.