Page 92 of Lost Prince

He levers up, his lips finding mine. “Mine. Forever.”

I close my eyes, savoring the love. Savoring finding my place.

EPILOGUE TWO

Matteo

I slip out of the reception as soon as the toasts are finished. I hope they don’t notice or if they do, they don’t think I’m being rude. The D’Amatos are my family. Granted, they’re siblings while I’m just the cousin, but they treat me like an equal. I don’t want to do anything that could make them question my loyalty.

Well, that’s not completely true, as I have done something that I’m sure would have Elio questioning my sanity. Lana’s head would explode. Maybe Lazaro would understand.

I'm genuinely happy for Lazaro, knowing that Diana is exactly what he needs. But I must get back to my penthouse. Back to the secret that could have me blowing up the already tenuous situation between the D’Amatos and Rinellas and potentially turn the D’Amatos against me.

As I step out of the D’Amato mansion, the cool night air hits me like a slap. I take a deep breath, trying to clear my mind, but all I can think about is her. Her soft, silky hair, her gray eyes that I tumble into each time I look at her, and the fire that lies deep within her, doused by a fuck wad of a father. A fire I want to ignite.

I hurry to my car, feeling a pang of guilt for keeping her locked up even as I get a little thrill from the idea of possessing her. She's mine. She’s been mine since the moment I laid eyes on her during her introduction to Elio who was supposed to marry her.

I slide into the driver's seat, starting the engine and pulling out of the driveway. My mind is lost in thoughts of her. I can't wait to get home.

What is it about her that has made me lose my mind and do things that could get me killed? I don’t understand it, but I’m powerless to fight it. Not when I know deep down, I’m protecting her. The way she fell into my arms, literally, while trying to sneak out of her home is all I need to know. The universe handed her to me, charged me with protecting her.

Not that she’s in agreement with my assessment. But in time, she will see that I’m the man she’s meant to be with.

I pull up to my building, parking in the garage and taking the elevator up to my penthouse. As I open the door, I'm greeted by the sweet scent of her. It makes me wonder if she escaped her room. That thought panics me, and I stride down the dimly lit hallway toward her gilded cage.

I listen through the door. Not hearing anything, I open it. Ava Rinella, Mafia princess and woman of my desires, stands at the window, trying to force it open.

“Have you learned to fly?” I ask, leaning against the doorjamb. “We’re on the sixty-fifth floor.”

Ava flinches and turns to me with an innocent expression. “Just looking at the view.” Her gaze darts around the room. She’s assessing whether she can get past me out of the penthouse before I stop her.

“You can’t see much from the window at night.” I wish I could make her not afraid of me. There was a moment when I was sure she didn’t fear me. Granted, we’d only had a few stolenmoments, some of which she’d been intoxicated in, but she hadn’t been afraid then. Of course, I hadn’t locked her up in my home then, either.

I’ve been trying to keep her comfortable. I’m gentle, even when she tries to escape.

“You must be hungry. Let me get you some food.” I leave, hating how she looks so forlorn as I shut the door and lock her in. She has everything she needs. A luxurious bed. A large bathroom with a garden tub. But she’s not free, and I can understand how that would frighten her.

I heat up a meal I cooked earlier. Cooking is my secret superpower. It’s my one way to nurture her now.

I bring her penne pasta with Parmesan and truffle oil on a tray, complete with a cloth napkin and a glass of water. I’d give her wine, but one, she’s only eighteen, and two, I know she doesn’t hold her alcohol well.

I return, setting the tray on the two-person dining table I moved into the room. She hesitates, but then sits down, putting the napkin in her lap.

"Why are you so dressed up?" she asks, her voice quiet but curious.

I glance down at my suit. Normally, I’m in slacks or jeans. My work with the D’Amatos doesn’t often call for a suit.

"I was at a wedding. Lazaro D'Amato's." I sit across from her as if it’s the most normal thing.

At the mention of the D'Amato name, a flicker of emotion crosses Ava's face. She tries to hide it, but I've caught glimpses of it before.

“For ten minutes, you were engaged to him. Are you upset that he’s married someone else?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound like I care about her answer.

She shrugs as she pokes her fork through the penne.

“I bet you’d have rather married Elio. He’s a bit more stable emotionally.” I love my cousins, but I can’t deny the jealousy I felt when her father first planned to hand Ava over to Elio and then later, Lazaro. As much as I’m glad my cousins were brave enough to choose love over business and not marry Ava, it’s only a matter of time before her father sends her to New York as part of another business deal.

Ava's eyes meet mine. "Should I feel jilted that they both broke off the engagement after meeting me?”