His Juliet: An Age Gap Hurt Comfort Mafia Romance (Empire of Royals Book 2)

I groaned when a strip of sunlight hit my eyelids and dragged me from sleep. I went to bury my face in my pillow so I could get a few more minutes before my alarm went off when I realized my head wasn’t on a pillow.

It was on Romeo.

Before I could panic about having spent the night on top of him, his hand moved up and down my back in a tender, soothing motion. I relaxed into his touch, breathing steadily to slow my racing heart. I was not a morning person, but if I could wake up like this every day, I might just be converted.

“Good morning, angel.” Romeo’s lips brushed against my forehead, and I snuggled further into him.

“Morning.”

We lapsed into silence again, and my breathing slowed as I was lulled into a trance by his soothing touch.

“How did you sleep the rest of the night? Any more bad dreams?” I asked. His shouts had woken me. At first I’d panicked, thinking someone was breaking in, but then I realized he was having a nightmare. I’d hated seeing him like that, devastated and afraid, especially because I knew exactly how it felt.

His arms hugged me tight. “No more bad dreams. Maybe I need you to sleep on top of me every night. Keep the nightmares away.” He stroked my hair. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

I frowned and propped myself up on his chest so I could meet his gaze. “Don’t apologize about that. I’m glad I could be here for you. Especially after everything you’ve done for me.”noveldrama

His eyes softened and he caressed my cheek. “My sweet girl. Did you sleep okay? Any bad dreams?”

I shook my head and leaned into his touch.

Romeo hummed. “We must be good luck for each other.” The intensity of his gaze was too much for me and I ducked my head, pressing my lips to his neck. It was hard to reconcile how new and tenuous everything was between us with how comfortable it felt. All I knew was that nothing good in my life had lasted, and when whatever this was with Romeo ended, I might not survive it.

“Shoot, what time is it?” I asked. “I have to get to work.”

His hand tightened on my hip. “You can’t go into the bookstore.”

“Umm, what?” I pushed myself off him and sat up.

Romeo followed me so we were sitting facing each other. “This is the only place I can ensure your safety while the Albanians are still out there.”

I frowned. “Maybe them driving past my apartment was just a fluke.”

His expression softened. “I wish it was, but they obviously know I care about you.” He ran a gentle finger down my cheek. “They know you’re important to me.”

A bright glow burst through my chest, warming me from the inside out. I forced myself to stay focused on our conversation instead of melting into his arms like I wanted to. “I still have to go to work. How could I explain this to Arturo? He relies on me. And I need the money to pay my rent and stuff.”

“I already let Arturo know you wouldn’t be coming in.”

I jolted back. “What?”

“He’s part of the Family. I contacted him and told him what was going on. The store will be closed until we’ve eliminated the Albanians. Everyone’s salaries will still be paid.”

I shifted away from him, unsettled. “You’re related to Arturo?”

His brow furrowed before understanding flashed across his face. “No, I mean he’s part of the Family, as in Mafia Family. He understands what’s going on and that your safety is the most important thing.”

“But you can’t…” I trailed off, unsure what I even wanted to say. All I knew was that I had to protest. Romeo’s actions were unbelievably high-handed. “You can’t just make these decisions for me.”

He leaned forward, bridging the space I’d forced between us. “I can when it comes to your safety. You can be as mad at me as you want, but I won’t budge on this.” He tucked a curl of my hair behind my ear and kissed me on the forehead. “Let’s get some breakfast.”

Romeo’s hand wrapped around the back of my neck as we walked into the kitchen, and I considered throwing off his touch. I was still mad at him for making decisions about my job. Even if it was for my safety.

But I was weak. My heart fluttered at his possessive touch and how he’d insisted I wear his sweatpants and sweatshirt because he wanted me in his clothes. I should have refused, stood my ground and proven I was a strong, independent woman. But I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted his scent around me and to feel like I belonged to him. Even though I looked like an unflattering blob in his clothes, his eyes heated as they raked over me, making me feel sexy and confident.

Romeo cleared his throat and gestured at a piece of paper on the counter. “I printed something out for you.”

I picked it up and furrowed my brow in confusion. The top of the sheet said, “Coping Mechanisms for Self Harm.” I swallowed the lump in my throat as I read through the list. Some things were familiar—breathing exercises, holding pieces of ice, coloring, listening to music, going for a walk, and snapping a rubber band against my wrist. But then there were some additions written in with pen: orgasms, let me take you shopping, cuddles, steal baked goods from upstairs.

Romeo wasn’t ignoring what happened, but he wasn’t making me feel ashamed of it. The hurt I was holding onto from our interaction at the bakery, from his high-handedness with my housing and job, slipped away, replaced by the syrupy, warm feeling of being cared for.

I met Romeo’s unsure gaze. Was he worried about how I would react?

“It’s funny that ‘slice up someone else’s skin instead’ isn’t on the list,” I teased, even with the lump in my throat.

His lips twitched, and his hand came to my hip. “What do fucking therapists know? It could be a brilliant new treatment.”

I blinked quickly to keep my tears from falling. “Not many people have someone who would be willing to do that, to take on the pain.” My eyes were fixed on the paper. The words blurred as my tears started falling.

“Oh, stellina.”

His arms were around me, tucking me into his chest, pressing my face to his neck. I choked on a sob, and he tightened his hold. We rocked side to side and my arms went around him, my fingers twisting in his shirt.

“You’re not alone. Not anymore. Never again. I’ll always be here to take the pain away.”

He didn’t let go, didn’t rush me, didn’t tell me to stop crying. He was just there. Solid and warm and holding onto me as tightly as I was to him. I didn’t know how long we stood there, but eventually, my tears dried up, and I slumped against him, exhausted.

He kissed my cheek. “Do you like French toast? It’s one of my specialties.”

I lifted my head from his chest and tried to wipe my face. “I need tissues first.”

“I think we can handle that.”

Romeo held my hand tightly as he led me to a hallway closet and pulled out a box of tissues. After I cleaned up, we returned to the kitchen. Before I could worry about what I should do, he picked me up and placed me on the counter.

“So, French toast?”

“I like French toast.”

His smile was brilliant, transforming his face from stunning to breathtaking. “Coming right up.”

I looked around the kitchen, taking in my surroundings for the first time. The cabinets were dark wood and the countertops were black soapstone. In the corner sat a fancy espresso machine. It was the prettiest home I’d ever been in, all sophisticated warmth.

Romeo whisked some eggs in a bowl beside me, and I leaned over to kiss his shoulder. He looked up, eyes wide.

“Do that again.”

A little smile teased at my lips as I tugged his t-shirt to the side so I could kiss his skin this time.

“Do you want an espresso?” I asked. “I can try to work the machine.”

He curled a piece of my hair around his finger. “Yeah, Juliet. I’d love an espresso.”

His hands were on my hips again, lowering me to the floor. It took me a few minutes of tinkering with the machine to get the hang of it. The entire time, Romeo found things to do on my side of the kitchen, his hand brushing against my back and my hair as he walked around me.

I didn’t know if he was staying so close because he knew I needed it or because he needed it, too.

I hated that I’d scared him yesterday.

I loved that he cared enough to be afraid for me.

The scent of vanilla and maple swirled around the kitchen as Romeo finished making breakfast. I set two coffees in front of us, both sporting very wonky latte art. I sat down at the kitchen island and Romeo immediately pulled my chair closer to him. His hand stayed on my thigh the entire time we ate. Little sparks of pleasure shot through me every time he squeezed my leg, and it made me want to curl up on his lap like a kitten.

Once we finished eating, Romeo turned to face me, taking my hands in his. “I have to meet with Matteo in a few minutes.”

“Matteo?”

“He’s the Don, the head of the Italian Mafia here in New York. I’m his second-in-command.” He watched me carefully, like he was afraid I was going to run away screaming. Maybe I should. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that the Mafia was real.

When I didn’t say anything, he continued. “Matteo is like a brother to me. His sister, Sienna, lives on this floor just down the hall. Matteo, Sofiya, and their daughter, Clementine, are on the top floor.” He cupped my face. “I don’t want to leave you here, but there are some business things you can’t be a part of. Will you be okay staying alone for a bit?”

No.

“Yes.”

He fixed me with a stern look. “Are you lying to me, Juliet?”

I shook my head. “I’ll be okay.”

He leaned in closer and I breathed him in. “I’m terrified of coming back here and finding you bleeding out. I just… can you promise me that you won’t hurt yourself? I can’t…” He swallowed hard and rested his forehead against mine. “I can’t handle seeing you like that, angel. I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you never feel like that again.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart aching. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

His tone was as firm as his grip on me. “What did I say about apologizing?”

“I’m still sorry for scaring you. I won’t do it again. It had been a long time since I’d done that. Things just got to be too much yesterday.”

“I know what happened is my fault.”

I shook my head, but he pressed his fingers to my lips to stop me from arguing.

“No, it is, and that fucking kills me. But I swear, Juliet, I will never make you feel like that again. I need you to promise me you won’t hurt yourself.”

It had been so long since anyone cared about me like this, and it was overwhelming. “I have a whole list of coping skills now.” The corner of Romeo’s lip curled into a smile, and mine matched his. “I promise I’ll do my very best.”

We both took deep, shuddering breaths as we held each other.

Romeo gave my hair a gentle tug. “Come on, I think we have time for one Mario Kart tournament before I meet with Matteo.”