One Week Later..
Tony was grumpy.
It was his first official day as the Don of the Santa De Leones.
The office?
It was one of their family's legal front businesses—design and furniture.
One of many.
Tony barked orders, grudgingly signed documents, and spent most of his time scowling.
His eyes never left the clock.
The moment eleven am hit, he bolted like a tornado, ignoring his employees.
Today was Angel's flight to America.
The last full week passed by like a blur.
After leaving Rome, they spent two days travelling back to Lake Como, three days resting, dating, and making love.
And the last two days of the week?
Angel spent it with his useless parents in Florence.
Tony was still mad about that.
He only got to be with Angel for five full days.
Tony gritted his teeth at the thought.
Angel's parents wept.
Asked for forgiveness.
Claimed they realized their mistake even before Angel was taken by the Luchese family.
Before the chaos at Hotel Valgrande.
'Took them long enough.'
They said they tried to reach Angel, but the Luchese's men always blocked them.
And Angel, the sweet and beautiful Angel forgave them.
But Tony won't.
Never.
'Even if they became my in-laws.'
When Tony and Angel went to get his passport in Florence, his parents were away, at Hotel Valgrande, asking what happened to it, and if anyone had seen their son.
They said they were heart broken, not knowing what really happened to Angel.
'He spent his two precious days with those…' Tony growled in his throat, opening and closing his car door as he reached the garage.
Tony himself had spent those two free days without Angel—seething, sulking.
Alessandro and Alvaro had to even lock him up inside his room to stop him from going after Angel.
That day when Beth died in Rome, Angel had decided to finish his studies in America.
He'd told Tony, 'If I were to stand beside you, I have to be something too. What would people say about me if I'm an undergraduate medical student? They'll think I'm only after your power, or even your money.'
Then he looked Tony in the eye:
'Besides, who would treat you, patch you up when you're doing your thing? I don't want another doctor having their hands on you.'
That last part was what fooled Tony into letting Angel do what he wanted.
And now, he'd regretted it.
'Fuck.'
Once Tony was out of the garage, he drove his car like he wanted to race demons.
Still cursing himself.
He remembered how he'd let his imagination run wild back then, hearing Angel said those exact words.
He'd imagined Angel in his sexy white lab coat, with a syringe, asking Tony to take off all of his clothes.
His cock twitched.
'Shit, I'm really trash,' he thought.
He had one destination in mind—the airport.
His car surged forward, three black cars hot on his tail.
But then traffic blocked his way.
He hit the horn repeatedly, heatedly.
"Fuckers!" he shouted angrily.
Suddenly, the three cars following him halted, and, god bless them, the men got out and began directing vehicles away with swift precision.
Drivers and commuters even shouted.
Or at least some tried, once they saw a gun, and the Santa De Leones' lion family logo, they caved immediately.
The mess cleared.
Sirens whooped.
The path was cleared like he was the Pope.
"Not fucking useless after all," he muttered under his breath, quite pleased.
He slammed on the gas.
Leaving his men once again to catch up.
By the time Tony skidded into the airport parking lot, he jumped out.
He didn't even bother to shut the car door.
He just ran, hellbent—in his new gray suit and polished black shoes.
People stared at him like he was crazy.
He probably really was.
Or maybe they were just shocked, seeing a six-foot something mafioso running through the terminal like he was in some rom-com movie.
Tony reached the gate, his men trailing behind him, calling, radioing and talking to the airport employees.
He breathed hard, his new suit was now slightly wrinkled, tie crooked, his hair a mess.
"Angel!" he shouted through the throng of people.
No reply.
Just the gentle buzzing of people talking, voices on mic.
His heart sank.
'Too late. Fuck!'
He turned to one of his men, about to order a flight booked for him, any flight.
'Which was faster? Should I wait for mother's return with the jet? Last time I checked, she's about to land in about an hour or should I book a flight now…'
His thoughts were scrambled, it was getting hard to breathe.
Then, a calm, amused, and familiar voice spoke:
"I thought we already talked about this, Tony."
Tony's head whipped to the side.
Angel.
There he was—standing near security.
Holding his carry on.
Headphones around his neck.
All casual in his jeans and gray long sleeve shirt.
Looking devastatingly gorgeous like heartbreak.
Tony marched up straight to him.
He grabbed Angel's face.
Then—Tony kissed him.
Hard.
Long.
Emotional.
Public.
Angel blinked, stunned.
His carry-on dropped with a dull thud—swallowed by people's gasp around them.
Someone might have even taken a picture, but neither of them cared.
They were already lost.
Lost in the kiss—so hot—
'It's fucking burning.'
Angel leaned into the kiss, hands rising to Tony's chest.
As if he would have pushed Tony off but didn't.
Instead, his palms steadied, feeling the thundering of Tony's heart.
When Tony pulled back, his voice was hoarse, honest.
"I'm sorry, babe, I don't think I could let you go after all," he breathlessly stared at Angel's wet and already swollen red lips.
The only evidence left of their passionate kiss.
His fingers started to itch, wanting to kiss again, but couldn't.
He had a lot of things in his chest he had to convey.
'God, he looks so delicious. And he's all mine!'
Angel laughed, soft and melodious, eyes glazed.
"You'll be fine."
Then Angel suggested in a small voice:
"You can visit me whenever you want."
Tony inhaled as if trying to breathe Angel in.
"Then I'm booking a flight, too. Right now. Screw the Don business."
Angel hugged him tight, stopping him.
"I'll miss you."
Those words nearly broke Tony.
'Shit.'
Angel leaned his head back, looking up to catch Tony's eyes, then he asked—
"Don't you trust me?"
Tony stilled, a mixture of thoughts and emotions appeared on his face as he stared at Angel.
Then he grumbled, finally relenting.
"I trust you more than anyone in the world, babe. It's them I don't trust. The people you'll meet.
You're so goddamn beautiful, Angel. People with eyes would fall in love with you. And I'm not—" he breathed in, his whole speech that he tried so hard to memorize came out sounding like a child whining, "—I'm not gonna be able to handle all that."
Angel continued to listen.
Patient.
Understanding.
"Don't even get near anyone. Don't look them in the eye. Don't breathe next to them. I'm a very jealous bastard. I don't share."
He finally let out all of his insecurities.
Then Tony added, "You know what? I think we should just use our private jet. I'll accompany you to America—everywhere you want to go, amore."
'Mother's not back yet—meaning—more time with Angel.'
Angel laughed again, but in disbelief this time.
"You're the only one thinking that. You're the only one that's horny for me, you know," he teased Tony.
A final boarding call echoed overheard.
Their eyes met again.
"I need to go," Angel murmured, feeling sad now.
Tony's possessiveness roared to life.
He briefly imagined slinging Angel over his shoulders like King Kong and driving him off to some villa in Naples.
But Angel wasn't an object.
Tony had finally come to terms with that.
Angel was his person.
His lover.
His partner.
Tony growled softly, restraining himself.
"Fuck, I already hate this Don thing," he muttered, adjusting his tie.
Angel pulled away—
He helped Tony smooth out his tie with gentle fingers—then playfully gave it a strong tug, pulling Tony down and closer.
Their breathing mixed.
Mischief flickered in Angel's violet eyes, then he turned serious.
"This is hard for me too," he exhaled.
"This is the first time we'll be apart like this ever since Valgrande."
"No it's not, you spent two whole days with your parents," Tony countered grudgingly.
Angel only smiled.
"I've grown dependent on you Tony, I hate to leave, but this is for us, for our future."
Angel let that simmer in.
"I'm going to marry you," Tony declared.
"Of course, you would," Angel beamed.
Then he pulled Tony's tie even closer.
"I also do not like sharing," Angel whispered seriously.
Violet eyes met silver.
"Goodbye…. babe," Angel grinned cheekily letting go of the tie, using Tony's pet name for him.
Tony blinked.
Babe.
'He said babe.'
Tony's heart—and brain—short circuited.
'Fuck.'
"Can your flight be delayed?" Tony asked, eyes pleading, desperate.
Angel blinked, puzzled.
"Why?"
Tony leaned in and whispered.
"I'm hard, babe," he put an emphasis on the word 'babe'.
Angel's face turned red.
His eyes darted away—shy—then flicked back with a teasing spark.
He laughed again, bright and beautiful, like a real Angel.
Tony watched him go, already counting the days.
The Don stayed behind.
But his heart just boarded a flight.
To America.
**