Chapter 162
The rain pounded hard on the balcony of the makeshift room in that Japanese motel. The sound of water against the glass sounded like sad music, yet perfect for the moment. Vincenzo stood there, staring out the window at the city. His broad shoulders were tense, his breath held. On the outside, he was all control. Inside, I knew... he was falling apart.
I knew him well enough to know when something hurt more than he wanted to show. And now, it was his son. The child he didn't even know existed. The one in danger. The one carrying his blood.
Vincenzo opened his mouth to say something. Maybe apologize for dragging me into all this. Maybe confess a fear. Or just try to be strong one more time.
But I didn't let him.
I leaned in, cupped his face with both hands, and kissed him. A sweet, calm kiss, full of everything he needed and never asked for. He resisted for half a second... and then gave in. And when it did, it was like a whirlwind.
Vincenzo grabbed me by the waist and pressed our bodies together as if he were drowning and I were his only lifeline. The kiss became urgent, hungry, filled with raw desire. He pushed me gently until my back hit the icy wall, and even then, the heat he released burned me through.
"Rachel…" he murmured, his forehead pressed against mine. "I don't know if I'll make it…"
"You will," I replied, looking firmly into his eyes. "And I'll be with you."
It was the last thing we said before the silence between us turned to pure action.
His hands ran down my thighs, lifted me as if I weighed nothing, and pinned me against the wall. Kisses on my neck. Bites. Desperate desire mixed with pain. It was all he was feeling, transformed into touch. Into heat. Into skin.
He carried me to the bed without breaking his kiss for a second. He took off his shirt, and a flash of lightning illuminated his body for a brief moment. It was almost cinematic. That man was made of steel, shadow, and fire.
He laid me down carefully, but his eyes held urgency. Vincenzo opened my blouse slowly, as if he were unlocking a secret.
And I really wanted him to discover me completely.
The warmth of his hand against my skin made me forget the storm outside. In that moment, there was only the two of us. The world could end, and I would still cling to the way he looked at me. As if I were the only relief amidst the hell he carried inside.
His lips slid across my breasts, and I arched, seeking more. It was as if he were devouring every part of me, as if it were necessary to maintain sanity. A touch of redemption amidst the chaos. A silent cry for help.
When he unzipped my pants, he did it calmly, looking into my eyes. He didn't need to say anything. I understood everything. Vincenzo didn't just want pleasure. He wanted to forget the pain—even if only for a few minutes.
I turned, pressing our mouths together again, feeling his body on mine. He spread my legs with his hands, firm but gentle, and ran his fingertips over my skin, making my breath hitch. It was almost hypnotic.
"You make me forget who I am," he whispered against my lips.
"Then forget," I pleaded, cupping his face in my hands.
And he did.
Vincenzo possessed me firmly. The movement was strong, rhythmic, charged with everything he held inside: anger, fear, guilt, love. I felt every emotion being released into me as if he were trying to purify himself, to make me his anchor in the midst of the hurricane.
His moans were muffled by the rain outside and the roar of the air conditioning. But inside, in that small, stuffy room, the connection between us was immense.
I didn't want it to end. Even if it was madness. Even if we were running away. I just wanted that moment. That surrender. The certainty that, even when everything around us was unstable, we could still be fire and shelter at the same time.
Vincenzo slowed his pace, looked into my eyes with a mixture of affection and savagery. He kissed me again, this time slowly, like a silent thank you.
And that was when his cell phone vibrated on the side table.
When Vincenzo's phone rang, it was as if time had stopped for a few seconds. I was still lying in bed, my breathing ragged, my body marked by the desire we had just shared. But that dry sound of the phone vibrating on the side table was enough to make everything inside me freeze. My chest tightened. Vincenzo slowly pulled away, picked up the phone, and answered with that coldness he carried in his most tense moments. And I… stood there, motionless, my heart racing, a chill rising in my stomach.
A thousand things raced through my head. "What if it's about Rafael? What if something went wrong? What if we won't make it in time?" I hated not knowing. I still hated it.
There was nothing I could do but wait.
I stared at his face, trying to decipher any clue: a muscle twitch, a harder look, a different sigh. But Vincenzo was a fortress. He wouldn't give anything away.
My fingers clenched around the sheet. Part of me screamed in fear, the other tried to trust. But the truth is, in that moment, I just wanted to hear his voice telling me that our son was okay. That he was still there. That we still had time.
He pulled away from me, still panting, his chest rising and falling. He picked up the phone and answered without a second thought.
"Speak," he said seriously.
On the other end, the prison warden's voice came, charged with urgency:
"Moretti… you're almost here. I thought it was only fair you know… Veronica is agitated. Very agitated."
Vincenzo remained silent, simply listening. And I knew, right then, that there would be no peace until that situation was over.
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