His Tesoro (Empire of Royals, #1)

by Emilia Rossi

Sienna took a turn in my chair, spinning in circles and going up and down the hall. “This is fun,” she said, smiling widely as she returned it to me. Having her respond to my chair with such playfulness and excitement eased the heavy weight of the shame I’d carried around since I started using mobility aids.

we raced up and down the hall, his shouted curses following me as I pulled ahead. “What the fuck? This thing is terrible,” he said, scowling. “I think I pulled something in my shoulder.” “Aww, big, strong Mafia man hurt himself,” Sienna said. And then we both burst out laughing.

“Angelo’s invited me to his weekly poker night, and I’m determined to beat them all.” Romeo leaned back in his chair with a hearty laugh. “You invited her?” “I’ve always said we need more women at poker night.” Angelo winked at me as Romeo snorted.

“Move the fuck over,” Matteo said to his second-in-command, who got out of the chair next to me with a good-natured huff. I tried to keep my cool that Matteo wanted to sit next to me.

“How do you like it?” “I love it,” I said, turning towards him. “Thank you so much for organizing it and getting it so quickly.” Matteo busied himself with getting some sushi, but I thought I saw the slightest hint of red in his cheeks, and I wondered if my husband felt more than he let on.

“Matteo!” Sofiya’s cheerful greeting twisted my insides. When was the last time someone had been that excited to see me?

I sat down beside my wife, drawn like a planet into her orbit. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright, and I realized she was tipsy.

“About a year ago, Mila and I each made a list of things we want to do before we die. We spent most of our days stuck inside, so we had a lot of time to brainstorm.

There was a lightness to her I hadn’t seen before. I found myself wanting to run my fingers along her skin, to tuck a piece of bright blonde hair behind her ear, and to know every item on her list.

Sofiya arranged the remaining sushi pieces on a plate and slid it in front of me. I felt a strange fluttering in my chest. She took care of me like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She curled up under a blanket, and my skin itched with the urge to pull her against me. I was struck by the feeling that I would taint her by touching her. My life was one where my skin was regularly marked with blood. Hers was one where she dreamed of having a dog and touching the ocean.

Then she yawned for the third time. I stood up. “Time to go.”

Look what I can do.” She wheeled back onto her back tires, a huge smile on her face. But I was on the verge of a fucking heart attack. Images of her losing balance and crashing to the ground flashed before my eyes. “Stop that,” I growled, running to her side and forcing her back on four wheels. She stared up at me with an adorable pout.

“But I looked good, right?” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You always look good, tesoro,” I muttered.

Sienna squeezed Sofiya in a tight hug, and my body vibrated with something that felt strangely like jealousy. I huffed and got in the elevator, tapping my foot impatiently.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. For once, it wasn’t my nightmares keeping me up. It was thoughts of Sofiya—wondering what else was on her list and which items I could help her check off. I might do just about anything to ensure she was always as happy to see me as she’d been this evening. And the thought scared me shitless.

This morning she was already perched on a kitchen stool, a plate of waffles in front of her. I cursed myself for moving too slowly this morning. I’d missed watching her move around the kitchen like she belonged here, in our home.

The kitchen stool she was on had a back to it, but even so, I couldn’t get the image of her falling off of it out of my head. I moved to stand behind her, banding my arms around her chest. “What are you doing?” she asked, amusement clear in her voice. “Nothing,” I said with a scowl.

But instead of bringing it to her own lips, she twisted around and held the fork to mine. My lips parted of their own volition and I took the waffle, chewing it slowly.

I almost missed the smile tugging at my wife’s lips. She ate a bite before bringing the fork to my lips again. I should refuse. Mafia Dons didn’t eat waffles. But again, I found my li...

She leaned back into my chest with a smile and I tightened my hold on her. Just to make sure she didn’t fall. Her body was so soft against mine, fitting against my chest like she was made for me.

“I don’t eat sweets.” Her lips curled into a smile. “Right. Made Men probably only consume protein powder and steel nails.” I grunted. Her pretty little smile had stolen all my words.

Angelo chuckled. “I’m not sure the Boss is much for desserts.” I smiled to myself. It seemed my husband hid his love for sweets from everyone but me. The day after our movie night, I’d woken up to find the popcorn bowl empty. At first I thought Matteo must have thrown out the caramel corn, but it wasn’t in the trash. I had a sneaking suspicion that my husband had eaten it all. “He seems to like the things I make.” “I’m sure he does,” Angelo said, giving me a knowing look.

“Why the fuck would you rather be stuck on some alien planet than meet Bigfoot?” Angelo asked. “I said I would only choose it if they were sexy aliens.” “Sexy aliens?” “Read a book, Angelo. Alien romance is very big.”

“Oh, hello.” I said as the dog walked over to me and laid its head on my lap. “Where did you come from?” Matteo strode into the kitchen. “I see you’ve met Noodle.”

“This is your service dog.” My lips parted. “You got me a service dog.” Matteo crossed his arms. “Yes.” My husband looked as stern as ever, but inside my heart was melting. “What? Why?” “Getting a dog was on your list, and I figured you might as well get one that’s useful.”

he had already shown more of an interest in my needs and making my life easier than anyone in the world, besides my sister.

“Help me get up,” I repeated. “Why?” He grumbled, but did what I asked, lifting me from my wheelchair. My feet barely skimmed the ground and I was firmly plastered against his body. “Because I wanted to say thank you,” I murmured. I ran my fingers through his hair, savoring how soft the strands were.

I trailed my hands down his face before cupping his jaw and pulling him closer. Before I could second-guess myself, my lips were against his.

I went to pull away, but then he growled and pressed my back against the wall. His lips were soft and firm all at once, his tongue demanding entry into my mouth.

A cold, wet nose nudged at my leg, and I broke the kiss with a laugh. “I think Noodle is jealous.” Matteo grumbled, but there was a lightness to his eyes.

I called Noodle over and patted the cushion beside me. He wasted no time hopping up next to me and cuddling up to my side. “Is he supposed to be on the couch?” Matteo asked, frowning. “You’re going to say no to this face?” I squished Noodle’s cheeks between my hands and we both stared at Matteo with big, sad eyes. “Fuck,” he muttered, running his hand through his hair.

I asked about attack dog training, but they said he had none. We’ll have to rectify that.” I gasped. “You are not teaching Noodle to attack people.” The dog in question wagged his tail, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he looked between the two of us. Matteo ran his hand down his face. “Not with that fucking name I can’t.”

“Aren’t you the best boy? My sweet little baby.” “He’s not your baby,” Matteo said, crossing his arms. “He’s an employee.” I snorted as Noodle lay his head in my lap. “I think someone is jealous,” I whispered conspiratorially as I stroked his soft fur. “I’m not jealous of a dog.”

I pulled him down beside me. He sat with a huff, unbuttoning his suit jacket. I held my breath as I rested my head against his shoulder, ready for him to pull away at any moment. But he didn’t. He just shifted on the couch cushion and put his arm around me.

I was taking the day off. I couldn’t remember the last time I took a day off. When I told Romeo before leaving the office yesterday, his shocked expression had turned into a shit-eating grin. He had even texted me this morning, wishing me a happy day with my wife.

The entire city was my territory, so in theory, it should be fine. Safe. But picturing Sofiya there, out in the world where I couldn’t control everything, made my chest tight. I rubbed it absentmindedly.

“I’m sure you have more important things to do.” Her smile was brittle, and she wasn’t quite meeting my gaze. My heart pumped faster, each thump sending a shock of pain through me because I caused that, and nothing in the world was right when my tesoro was sad. “My men will need to sweep the area we’re going to before we arrive, and they’ll keep eyes on us the whole time,” I said gruffly. A smile transformed Sofiya’s face, and I wanted to burn it into my mind forever.

Maybe I could convince her to go to a nice restaurant. Somewhere impressive that showed how I could care for her. Her hand slipped into mine, and she leaned against my shoulder. I froze at the unexpected contact, desperately wishing I wasn’t wearing this suit jacket. I wanted to feel the heat of her skin against mine.

So all I did was grunt and pull her chair closer to me. Now our sides were pressed together. A smile teased at her lips as she picked up her fork to resume eating. Keeping her left hand in mine the entire time.

I had been sure Matteo would refuse this outing. Why would he want to flaunt his damaged wife? But as we were out in the sunshine by the edge of the park, I wondered if my husband had been hesitant to go out because he was worried about safety. My safety.

I petted his head, grinning at how proud he looked at the attention. How would he react if I had a baby? Would they be best friends? My heart ached with longing as I imagined a brown-haired baby with dark eyes.

“Are we going to stand here all day?” I grabbed Matteo’s hand, feeling addicted to holding it after this morning. My grumpy husband let out a long-suffering sigh, squeezing my hand tight as he ran his other through his already-messy hair.

I had to let go of his hand to guide my chair towards the nearest hot dog cart, and I wished we could be like a normal couple and hold hands while walking. As if Matteo sensed my sadness, his hand lightly landed on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He kept his hand there, glaring at anyone who got in my way as we navigated the sidewalk.

My heart skipped a beat. My husband, the Mafia Don, had just cracked a joke.

I kept my face serious, but I felt like singing, dancing, pumping my fist in the air, especially when the corner of Matteo’s mouth twitched.

“Oh, we should see if Angelo wants one.” I looked around, catching sight of my guard about ten feet away. I waved him over as Matteo growled. I had asked Sienna why Matteo didn’t like Angelo, and she had looked so confused. She’d said Angelo saved Matteo’s life and that being assigned to me was a huge honor for the young guard. I had to conclude that my husband might feel slightly possessive of me, and the thought made me so happy I could levitate.

“I was just wondering if you wanted a hot dog.” Angelo grinned, ignoring Matteo’s continued growling. “I already ate, but thank you.”

“Try a bite of mine,” he commanded. I wrinkled my nose as I took in the toppings on the hot dog he was holding out. I wasn’t sure what came over me as I leaned in and took a bite right out of his hand, keeping my eyes on his the entire time. His eyes grew dark and heated, and my cheeks flushed.

“How was it?” he asked, his voice hoarse. I leaned back, chewing thoughtfully. “Disgusting.” I took a long sip of Coke, and Matteo snorted a laugh. I joined him, and it might have been the best moment of my life.