A/N: I could've waited for some kind of special occasion to post this but then I decided I didn't actually need one.

Maybe I was just super hormonal but I was actually physically bawling when I wrote the first part of this chapter. Let me know if it's just me so I know if I should go see a shrink or something...

Super, duper, extra long chapter but I wanted to make this one special. (Close to 5000 words, it's a fricken short story 😂)

You guys know the drill, extra tissues and panties... 😉

***

"Fidanzata"

I am ninety-seven percent sure that Rosalyn's brother still hates my guts.

And the worst part is that I honestly don't blame him. If I had a little sister and some figlio di puttana from the mob threatened her, fucked her, and fell stupidly in love with her, I'd be angry as hell too.

Natalia told me that he is usually in the best mood once he gets back from the gym. She's on an evening shift at the hospital but she said he should be home any minute, so I sit in my car parked on the street outside his house and wait, rehearsing through what the fuck I'm going to say to him.

Sure enough, he pulls into the driveway a couple minutes later and I get out, walking towards him and trying to look as civil and unthreatening as possible. Merda, I really don't want to do this.

But I will, for her.

He sees me as soon as he steps out of his vehicle and immediately his shoulders tense up, a pissed scowl settling across his face.

"Hi, Daniel," I greet with a small smile that he doesn't return.

"Natalia's at work," he says coldly, locking his car and walking towards the front door with his gym bag. I follow slowly behind him.

"I actually came to talk to you. Do you have a minute?"

"I have nothing to say to you, Santino." He flicks through his keychain for the house key, his back to me while I stand at the bottom of the front steps.

I run a hand through my hair, take a breath. "I owe you one hell of an apology, Daniel."

And he stops for a moment, shoulders slumping. When he turns to me this time, he just looks really damn tired. He nods his head towards the house, silently inviting me in.

"You want something to drink?" He tosses the bag beside the door with our shoes and I follow him into the kitchen where he pours himself a glass of water.

"No, thank you." Hands in my pockets, I give him a minute, watching silently as he grabs a couple bottles of beer from the fridge anyways, digging through a drawer for a bottle opener and popping the caps off, sliding one of the drinks over to me across the counter.

"Well, I'm pretty sure I'm going to need a drink for this," he grumbles. I take the beer and walk behind him to the living room where he collapses onto a couch and I lower myself into an arm chair across from him, still completely on edge about this.

He sips his drink and I inhale some air to steady myself before I eventually start talking. "There are a lot of things I want to say to you, Daniel. But I realized recently that I haven't taken the time to apologize to you, or to give you an explanation."

I swallow a small sip of beer because hell, alcohol is probably exactly what I need to get through this spectacularly painful and awkward conversation.

He doesn't say anything, just listens, his eyes focused somewhere beside my head.

But this needs to be said and if I can ever even begin to deserve someone as fucking perfect as Rosalyn in my life, I can grow a pair and suck it up and say it.

I meet his eyes and he's decent enough not to look away. "I am really fucking sorry, Daniel, for all the shit that you and your family have been through. I'm sorry about all the crap that I've done to hurt you. You have every reason to be pissed with me."

I pause for a second to breathe before I continue. It is physically difficult to be open and vulnerable like this, and I can feel how fast my heart is beating, protesting against it. "I will not deny that I've done some horrible things in the past. And if you want to ask me about any of it, you're welcome to."

I shake my head, hoping to God that behind his unreadable, expressionless mask he can see that I'm really trying here, that I mean every word of what I'm saying. "But I have worked really hard to put that shit behind me. I'm not the same person I was when I first met your sister, Daniel."

My throat is burning. Fucking hell. I remember Rosalyn, can see her wearing that bright smile on her face, can picture the way she looks at me, the way she sees me. Thinking about her makes me warm and a small smile tugs at the edge of my mouth. "I am so fucking in love with your sister, Daniel. She is the best thing that has ever happened to me. She is the reason why I'm not still throwing my life away doing terrible shit. She is the reason why I can go home after work and actually look at myself in the fucking mirror. She..."

Fanculo. Cristo. My eyes are stinging. No fucking way you're losing your shit in front of him.

I scrub a palm across my face and blink a couple times, staring at some spot on the floor.

What has this woman done to me?

My voice is rough and if I speak louder I know he'll hear how raw it is. "She is the most important person in my life. And I know, fuck, I know that I will never deserve her in a million years."

I can't look at him right now, to see the confusion or frustration or pity on his face, so I just take another bitter sip and try to settle my nerves. I came here to tell him these things and I will.

"I've apologized many times to Rosalyn, and she's forgiven me, and we've moved past all of it." When I think I've fallen back to a normal level of emotion, I look up at him again, and his expression is much softer than it was before. "I think she's happy with me, Daniel. I know I'm happy as hell with her."

Here we go. I take a deep breath and say it before I don't have the courage to anymore. "I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I want her to know, every minute of every fucking day, that she is the most incredible woman on this entire planet. And so I'm going to ask her to marry me."

I let it sink in. I watch him, watch the furrow in his brow, can see how hard he's thinking about it without betraying any hint of his actual emotion. I guess he's a goddamn good lawyer.

"But I knew it wouldn't be right to ask her if I didn't try to make peace with you first. You mean a lot to her, man, and she means everything to me."

Porca troia. There, I fucking said it. We sit in silence for a long time while he processes everything I just dropped on him.

There's a heavy tension hanging over us and I'm ready as hell for this to be over.

Finally, he lets out a heavy sigh, runs a hand through his dirty blonde hair, still damp from his workout. His hair is a lot different from hers but the colour of his eyes is nearly the same.

He looks up at me, this time without malice or anger. His voice is also a little ragged. "It's obvious that she's happy with you, man. I never understood it because I thought you were the biggest asshole on this entire planet."

I let out a dry chuckle and the edge of his jaw twitches with something that resembles amusement. He meets my gaze, steady and a little warmer than before. "But you're a better guy than I gave you credit for. It took a lot of balls to say all that. And I appreciate it."

And he gives me a small, grudging smile and I smile back, and then he gets up and walks towards me and I stand up too, accepting his outstretched hand and giving it a strong shake, and like that we've reached a truce.

"She doesn't know you're here, does she?" We sit back down and finish our beer, both of us a lot more at ease.

I shake my head, suppressing a little grin when I remember how I left her with an indecently hot kiss in front of a gaping Shauna. "She's having girl's night with Shauna. I told her I was meeting a friend from college for a drink."

And then maybe I shouldn't admit so plainly to lying to his sister but he doesn't seem to notice or mind.

"Did you buy a ring yet?"

"Yeah." I dig through my pocket and pull out the small box. "It took me nearly an entire weekend to find the right one."

He nods, an understanding smirk tilting up the corners of his lips. "I remember shopping for Nat's ring. I wanted to shoot myself by the end of it."

And, strangely, we laugh about it together. "This is going to sound cheesy as fuck but the truth is, I couldn't find a single ring that I thought would ever do her justice."

Something soft flickers across his face and I know he's thinking of his sister.

"Can I know when you're going to ask her?"

The thought of it makes my heart beat a mile or two faster. "Tomorrow evening, I hope. I visited your parents yesterday. They were kind, but your dad made it clear he would murder me if I ever hurt her."

I respect the guy a ton for how understanding he was. It was obvious that Ros has a loving family and it makes me feel even luckier to have her in my life.

"Don't worry, man, I'd beat him to it."

We meet each other's eyes and a silent, charged challenge passes between us. There's a glint in his eye and my fist itches a little at my side.

"Do you box, Daniel?" I ask.

"Not since college. You?"

"Yeah, there's a great gym a couple kilometers from our place." I raise my eyebrow. "You should come out some time. I feel like you'd enjoy punching me in the face once or twice."

He laughs, and I know he likes the idea. "You're on, man. Can't say no to that."

And when I walk out of there a little while later, a crooked smile on my face, I'm ninety-seven percent sure he doesn't hate my guts anymore.

•§•

As fucking ridiculous as it sounds, I have never been more nervous for something in my entire life.

A week ago, I told her I was taking her out somewhere nice tonight. She wrapped her arms around my waist, asked me suspiciously what the occasion was. I kissed her until she couldn't breathe and mumbled against her mouth how I didn't need an occasion to take her out on a Friday night because I love her, and that made her happy enough to stop asking more questions.

When I walk into our bedroom at quarter past six, I forget, for a second, how to walk. She's standing in front of the full length mirror beside our bed, focusing on pushing in her earrings. Her knee-length fitted black dress is unzipped, exposing the smooth tanned curves of her back. Her hair falls in soft brown waves against her shoulders. Her skin is flawless and glowing and for a second I just stare at her. "Merda," I finally breathe. "You're so fucking beautiful, dolcezza."

I meet her eyes through the mirror and she gives me one of those breathtaking smiles of hers. I never knew what pure joy felt like until I met this woman.

"Zip me up, will you?"

We watch our reflection as I approach her, and her breath catches when I put my hands softly against her hips, slide them into the curve of her waist and stand close behind her, my breath tickling the top of her spine. I slowly tug the zipper up, letting my fingers brush teasingly against her skin and smiling when she leans backwards into my touch. I place a soft kiss against the sensitive dip between her neck and her shoulder, and she tilts her head to the side and lets out a breathy sigh. I slide my lips like a whisper up the column of her neck and end with a kiss behind her ear.

The small moan that escapes her is so sexy that my cazzo twitches beneath my slacks. When I pull away from her, she shivers, but then she's turning around and resting her hands against my chest and stretching upwards to kiss me. Her lips are as soft and sweet as always, and soon she's gripping the collar of my white button-down, pressing her mouth hungrily into mine, my fingers digging into her hips. A low growl leaves me when she tugs at my bottom lip with her teeth and sucks it into her hot mouth. As soon as I feel myself getting hard against her I gently pull away, holding her a foot in front of me.

She pouts at me and she's so fucking adorable that my heart actually clenches. Mio Dio. "We have reservations in half-an-hour, dolcezza," I remind her, my voice rough with arousal. "I promise when we're done, I'll take you to bed and we won't leave until the morning."

She bites her lip, flushed and warm and, I know, definitely a little wet for me. "Promise?"

Merda. "I promise, amore mio." She giggles softly when she watches me rearrange my hardness through my pants, and I give her a dark look that only brightens the flash of desire in her hazel eyes.

•§•

Dinner with Rosalyn when she's obviously horny is the most exquisite kind of torture.

Every action, every movement and look and touch is specifically designed to drive me completely fucking insane.

Porca puttana. First, she watches me innocently over her glass of water, her full pink lips lingering seductively on the rim.

The way she runs her fingers softly through her hair, brushing it aside and tilting just a little to expose her bare neck... Fucking hell. I am going to make sure to leave a bright red mark on that perfect neck of hers tonight, and over every other inch of her, too.

It's little things, like the naughty sparkle in her eyes and the wrinkle in her forehead and the arc of her eyebrow that I know means she's going to enjoy giving me a shit-ton of trouble tonight.

She uses a delicate finger to wipe a non-existent crumb off the curve of her lips, swiping gently across the same way she does after I finish coming in her mouth.

And then I feel her foot against me under the table that she slips out of her stiletto and slides softly up my leg.

I give her my darkest, most dangerous look of warning but she just blinks back at me innocently, continuing to tell me in her honey-sweet voice about something that I can't focus on, because her toes are ticking my shin, my knee. She's angled her chair casually but she's a fucking pro at teasing the hell out of me and her leg is flexible, it bends and arches to graze the inside of my thigh, travelling closer and closer to the bulge in my pants.

Just when I'm about to grab her foot from where it's teasing a blazing trail up my lap, it disappears like it was never there, and she asks me sweetly why I look so flushed.

By the time dessert arrives, I can't decide whether I'm going to propose to her before or after I spank her sexy, infuriating ass.

And she hides a devilish smirk because she knows she's going to get it from me later and it just turns her on even more.

She takes an eternity to eat the warm, rich chocolate cake in front of us, and she makes sure to suck every last drop of vanilla ice cream off that fucking spoon, looking me right in the eye while she does it.

We're waiting for the bill when she starts twisting ever so slightly in her seat. I narrow my eyes at her because the look on her face is purely, unabashedly evil.

She drops her napkin on the floor and reaches down to pick it up. Whatever sly look on her face disappears and she gives me a sweet, loving smile, reaching for my hand. Just as I give her fingers a tender squeeze, I feel her press something soft into my palm and she closes my fist around it, pulling away and stifling a wicked grin.

When I open my hand and glimpse the smooth, damp scrap of black fabric she passed to me, my eyes widen because santo cazzo Madre di Dio. Holy fucking shit. She just gave me her wet panties.

"Nero, you look a little unwell. Is everything okay?"

I tuck her tiny thong into the inside pocket of my blazer and lean across the table, whispering so only she can hear me. My voice is low and menacing, the same tone I used with those pompinari I used to deal with in the mafia. "I am going to fuck you so hard, dolcezza, that the neighbors will call the fucking police."

She gulps, her eyes widening to the size of saucers, glimmering wildly from such a violent promise.

For a second, just a second, I think she's decided to put an end to her little game.

But then she leans in, glancing down at my lips and mumbling ever so softly, "Leccami la figa," with a perfect, practiced Italian accent, and I consider the real possibility of taking her right now against this fucking table.

"Remind me to kill Natalia when I'm done fucking your brains out, Rosalina," I mutter, and she just laughs quietly at me, making sure I notice when she squeezes her thighs together beneath the table.

After. I'll ask her to marry me after I give her soft behind a good spanking.

•§•

When I park in the underground lot beneath our apartment, Rosalyn jumps out of the car like it's on fire and rushes away from me, knowing that as soon as I catch her, she's in for it.

She barely makes it to the elevator in those heels of hers before I grab her and swing her over my shoulder, and I'm lucky we're the only ones in the elevator because she slaps at my back and presses her useless fists against my ass but I slip my hand beneath her dress and give her bare behind a hard squeeze, chuckling when she lets out a surprised yelp.

As I unlock the door to our place, let us in and lock it behind us, she continues to squirm and struggle against me, even though she knows how completely fucking pointless it is. I carry her straight to our bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed, laying her swiftly across my thighs. I use one hand to hold her arms tightly behind her back and the other to push her dress up to her waist, her face pressed lightly into the sheets beside us.

I give her round, tanned, naked ass a small pinch and she whimpers, knowing what comes next. "How many times," I ask roughly, massaging and kneading the flesh of each buttock, "should I slap your tight culo, carina, for being such a fucking tease?"

She doesn't answer, but arches a little so her behind sticks up higher into the air. There might be something wrong with this woman. And so I swing my arm and land a hard, stinging blow to her ass, listening to her small cry of pain and watching the redness pool beneath her skin.

She wiggles her ass tauntingly at me and I spank her again, just as hard, and I know she can feel my erection digging into her abdomen, I know if I stuck a finger between her thighs I'd find her soaking wet.

"Is that all you have, Nero?" she asks breathlessly, and I can't help but chuckle at how stubborn she is.

I rub my hands tenderly over the smarting skin. "Do you want to walk tomorrow, gioia?"

"Not particularly," is her smart-ass reply, and so I give her five more burning, savage smacks with my hand until her entire bum is bright red and hot to the touch and my palm stings stiffly, each slap earning me a wanton scream of agony and pleasure.

When she's whimpering limply across my lap, panting, I lift her gently off me and lay her on her stomach against the bed, kneeling behind her and running my lips and tongue soothingly across her raw, feverish skin. I give each cheek a soft bite with my teeth and she shudders beneath me.