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

Juliet stood by the kitchen counter, looking devastatingly unsure as I pulled food out from the fridge. Accardi was leading a small group pursuing the Albanians who had been watching Juliet’s apartment. I should have been with them, but I wouldn’t leave Juliet alone.

I wished I had something reassuring to say, but my words were stuck in my throat, left behind on the blood-covered bathroom floor. I needed to fix everything that had gone wrong today, but I was out of my depth.

“What do you want to eat?” My words came out in a croak, but Juliet still jumped at the sound. I cleared my throat. “I have a cook who meal preps for me. I have lasagna, steak and potatoes, some chicken dish.” I stared helplessly down at the plastic containers lining the kitchen island.

“Anything is fine,” she whispered.

I heated the lasagna and put a plate in front of each of us. I barely tasted it, too focused on Juliet, who kept her eyes down as she ate methodically.

She finally looked up and caught me looking at her. A slight blush spread across her cheeks.

“You done, baby?”

She nodded, and I cleared the plates.

The silence between us was deafening. It was nine o’clock, too early to suggest bed, even though all I wanted right now was to hold Juliet. Images of her covered in blood kept flashing through my mind. I needed to go through the apartment and get rid of anything she could use to hurt herself.

“Want to play Mario Kart?” I blurted out.

Her lips parted and then a tiny smile tugged at the corner. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Thank God.

I took her by the hand, helped her off the kitchen stool, and led her into the living room.

“Wow, fancy setup,” she said.

My TV took up much of the wall and I had several top-of-the-line gaming systems. I handed her the Mario Kart controller wheel and she sat down on the couch. I set up the game and sat right next to her, our legs pressed together.

“Shit, am I hurting you?” I didn’t want to aggravate the cuts on her legs. I shifted away, but Juliet’s hand landed on my thigh, stopping me.

“You’re not hurting me.”

She removed her hand and gripped her controller. The loss of her touch was a tangible thing, and I wanted to demand she move her hand back. I couldn’t stop myself from pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. Her hair smelled like vanilla. “You doing okay, angel?”

She leaned into me. “If you’re trying to distract me so you win, it’s not going to work.”

It was an evasive non-answer, but I decided not to push it right now.

“Bring it on. If you think I’m going to take it easy on you, think again.” I was all talk. I would do whatever I could to ensure her victory.

After the tournament was set up, we were off. Juliet was quiet the first few races, but she slowly relaxed.

“I hate you Rainbow Road!” she shouted as she fell off the track for the millionth time. My plan of ensuring her victory was not going well.

I laughed. “You’ve got to stay on the road.”

“I’m trying!” she shouted.

“There, there! Hit that!” I shouted back.

She swerved, missing the present that could have saved her, and fell off the side again.

“I want to return to Moo Moo Meadows,” she whined.

“Next time, baby.”

We played another tournament, this time with all of Juliet’s favorite tracks. She lifted her hands in victory when she won third place.

I put my arm around her shoulders. “Good job.”

She leaned into me, pressing her face into the crook of my neck. “Thanks for sabotaging my enemies.”

“Always.” She didn’t know how deeply I meant that.

I was going to ask if she wanted to play something else when she yawned. We were both night owls, but today had been a lot, and even I could feel fatigue pulling at me.

“Time for bed?” I murmured.

She nodded, and I pulled her off the couch and led her into my room, where I’d already put her bags.

“Here you go, angel. I’ll help you unpack everything tomorrow.”

She cleared her throat and looked around. Did she like it? Sienna had designed it, but I hadn’t done anything else with it.

“Is this your room?” She stared at the bed, her eyes unfocused and shoulders tense.

“Yeah.” Worry was clawing at my chest. Would she rather sleep in the guest room?

“Are you sure you want me here?”

My heart lurched and I pulled her into my arms. “How can you even ask that, especially when I’m the one who forced you to move in?”

“I guess you did,” she whispered.

I stroked my hand down her hair. The pink was fading a little. What did she need to re-do it? Did she always do pink or did she try other colors?

“Then what’s wrong?”

She said nothing, and I forced myself to be patient and stay quiet. I was learning Juliet needed time and a little coaxing to say what was on her mind.

“This just reminds me of all the times I moved to a new foster home with my things in trash bags. And at first, they all said they wanted me there, but it never stayed that way.”

Fuck.

I tightened my hold on her. “You’ll just have to stick around so I can prove it to you.”

She tentatively put her arms around me and returned my hug. “Thanks.” Her voice was a vulnerable whisper.

“The bathroom is through there. Why don’t you get ready for bed?”

Juliet grabbed the things she needed and headed into the bathroom. The second the door closed, I leapt into action, pulling out all her things from the trash bags. It was mainly clothes and toiletries, but she had also packed some books, journals, and a small wooden box.

I pulled my dresser drawer open and shoved my stuff to the side, making room for her clothes. The books went on the dresser and I put the box on the nightstand by her side of the bed—the one furthest from the door. I gathered the trash bags and threw them away just in time for Juliet to come out of the bathroom. She was wearing baggy sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and I wanted to replace them with my clothes.

Her lips parted when she didn’t see her things. “I put your stuff in here.” I gestured at the dresser. “And I can put that in the laundry.” I took her clothes out of her stunned arms. “I’ll be just a minute. Go get into bed, baby.” I kissed her before heading into the bathroom.

My cock was rock hard, and I thought about jumping in the shower to take care of things, but I couldn’t bear to be away from her for a minute longer than I needed to. Besides, the second her body was curled up against mine, I would be hard again.noveldrama

When I emerged from the bathroom, Juliet was almost completely covered by the blankets. My heart ached. I’d never invited a woman home with me. I had only slept with them in hotel rooms. Seeing Juliet in my bed confirmed that the reason I hadn’t brought any of those women home was because she was the only one who belonged here. With me.

Forever.

I pulled back the covers on my side and got in.

“Can I check your cuts, sweetheart?” I needed to see with my own eyes that they were healing, especially the deepest one. It might need glue or stitches.

“It’s fine,” she whispered. “You don’t have to⁠—”

“I want to.” I slowly peeled back the blankets. “Can I?” My fingers gently tugged at her waistband, and she nodded. I pulled down her sweatpants, trying to convince my cock that this was still not an appropriate moment to tent my pants, and took a look at the bandages. Some blood had seeped through, but for the most part, everything looked good.

“Are you in pain, angel?”

“It’s fine.”

“That’s not what I asked,” I growled. I bracketed her body with my hands, hovering above her.

She pressed her lips together. “It stings a bit, but it’s fine.”

I slowly leaned down and pressed gentle kisses to the bandages and to her pale scars. A tentative hand brushed through my hair and I inhaled sharply. Juliet so rarely initiated touch.

I kept kissing her scars, and she stroked my hair. We were wrapped together in this darkness, but not in the way I’d always experienced it. There was nothing sinister here—there couldn’t be when I was with Juliet. It was a tender darkness that shielded us from the world. She was the only thing that mattered.

I gently tugged her sweatpants back up and then worked my way up her body, placing kisses over her sweatshirt until I was level with her face.

“Hi,” she whispered.

Fuck, she was cute.

“Hi.” My lips brushed against hers. “You ready to sleep, angel?”

“I guess so.”

I kissed her again before arranging her so her back was to me and my arms were around her. She fit against me perfectly, all her softness to my hardness.

“Sweet dreams, baby.”

“You too, Romeo.”

Blood drenched the narrow hallway I was in, running across the gray tile floor like a river. I squinted through the dim light until I saw a door. The blood was coming through the crack underneath the door, and I knew I had to go through it. I grabbed the handle and threw it open to find myself in another hallway. The river of red grew deeper, my shoes splashing as I ran until I came across another door. I pushed it open, bracing myself to find the source of the blood, and let out a frustrated shout when yet another hallway greeted me.

The hallways and doors were never-ending, and my chest grew so tight my breaths came out in wheezing gasps. Sometimes, the doors unlocked easily, and other times, I had to slam them open with my body. My limbs trembled as I ran. Every fiber of my being needed to find the source of the blood.

Finally, I found myself in a long, narrow hallway with bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling and a metal slab door at the end. This was it. What I was looking for was through there. The river was up to my waist now, and I struggled to wade through it. Finally, I made it to the last door. I curled my fingers around the handle and slowly pushed it open.

There, floating on top of the blood, was my father, pale and still. I fought to get to him, but my legs wouldn’t move. “Papà!” I screamed until it felt like my throat was bleeding. I plunged head first into the blood, trying to swim to him, but he floated further away until he sank below the surface, lost forever. “No, please, don’t leave me.” Tears streamed down my face and a gaping, empty hole opened in my chest.

Movement to the left caught my eye and I whirled around. Another body floated near. Mamma. There was a dead look in her open eyes, and I screamed. No, no, no. I couldn’t fail her. Not again. I thrashed in the blood, doing everything I could to get to her until my arms and legs were weak and shaking. I could do nothing as she sank beneath the surface, only to be replaced by a third body.

A lifeless Juliet floated on top of the blood—her blood. “Juliet!” My scream pierced the air, filled with an agony too great for my body to hold. I tilted my head up to the heavens. “I’ll do anything! Take me instead!” But all I heard was silence. I was forced to watch, helpless, as the woman I loved drowned in her own blood.

I choked, my chest constricting.

Soft hands brushed my face. “Shh, you’re okay. I’m here.”

Sobs racked my chest as I desperately tried to move my legs.

“You’re having a nightmare. It’s not real. I’ve got you.”

Something shook my shoulders, and I opened my eyes with a hoarse gasp. A hand stroked my face and I snatched the person’s wrist, ready to attack. But then her scent reached me—sweet vanilla.

“You’re safe. It wasn’t real. Just a bad dream.”

I eased my grasp on her wrist. “Juliet?”

“I’m here.”

I let out another shuddering sob at her sweet voice. I reached out into the dark and dragged her onto my chest, wrapping my arms tight around her and burying my face in her hair. She wrapped her arms and legs around me, holding on tight.

“Are you really here?” I asked.

She squeezed my arm. “I’m here.”

“Don’t leave me, Juliet. I can’t handle a world without you in it.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Gentle fingers brushed away my tears, and I couldn’t even feel embarrassed for crying.

I’d kept a firm hold on my memories today, shoving them to the back of my mind so I could focus on Juliet. But finding her, hurt and bleeding, had brought that day back. The day my papà died and I lost my mamma. I’d gotten to her before they killed her, but I couldn’t save her from the torture and trauma they’d inflicted. And in my effort to free her, I’d increased her suffering. I’d fought through a small force of traitorous men, feeling nothing as I cut them down with cold ease. When I reached her, covered in their blood, she looked at me with horror, seeing her son fully for the violent monster he was. That was the first day my darkness rose fully to the surface.

Mamma had been a shell of herself in the days that followed. She wouldn’t leave the house, wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t eat. Being around me seemed to cause her physical pain, so I threw myself into helping Matteo secure his place as Don. One day, she said she wanted to move back to Italy. I was ashamed to admit I’d felt instant relief—this was something I could do to help her, and it meant that I wouldn’t have to face the evidence of my failure every day. I bought her a home in Italy where she could leave the past behind, but that past haunted me. Every time I looked in the mirror, I was reminded of the monster she’d seen in me.

How could anyone accept me like this?

And yet, Juliet was on top of me, stroking her fingers through my hair, her hand down my face, murmuring comforting words like I had done for her earlier today.

I wanted to be a man worthy of her affection.

At one point, she tried to move off of me, but I tightened my hold.

“I don’t want to crush you.” Her lips brushed against my neck as she spoke. My hand went to the back of her head and held her closer.

“You’re not.”

“Okay.” She wiggled a little, settling in more.

Each breath she took against my chest eased my panic until I finally drifted off again.