Becoming Mrs DeLuca novel Chapter 73

Chapter 73

VALENTINA

Adrian stayed late at work that evening, long after the house had settled into silence. I had tried to keep myself awake for him, but eventually, fatigue overwhelmed me. When I stirred awake again, the other side of the bed remained cold. Stefan’s small frame was nestled close to mine, his gentle breaths filling the quiet darkness. I carefully slipped out of bed, wrapped the blanket snugly around him, and followed the soft, warm glow spilling down from the floor below.

The house was still, save for a single light that beckoned me toward the cigar lounge.

There, Adrian sat in his favorite armchair by the fireplace. A half-empty glass of whiskey rested in his hand, the amber liquid catching the firelight and shimmering like a hidden danger. His jacket and tie were thrown carelessly over the adjacent chair, his vest still on, but the top buttons of his shirt were undone and his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His hair was tousled, and his expression even more disheveled—he rubbed at the stubble lining his jaw, lost deep in thought. For a brief moment, he resembled a figure from an old photograph—strong and commanding, yet burdened by invisible weight.

“You’re brooding again,” I whispered, leaning gently against the doorframe.

His eyes flicked toward me, sharp yet weary all at once. “I’m not brooding,” he replied quietly.

I closed the door behind me and turned the lock, the click making him raise an eyebrow. “Yes, you are,” I said, stepping into the room. “You only sit like that when something’s gnawing at you.”

He gave a humorless smile. “There’s a lot on my mind these days.”

“Then talk to me,” I urged, stopping in front of him. The flickering firelight cast shadows across his face, revealing the tension etched there. “You work too hard, Adrian. You think too much. Let me carry some of that weight with you.”

He exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the flames. “It’s business, Valentina. You wouldn’t want to hear the details.”

“Try me,” I said softly. “Is it because of Marco?”

He hesitated, then took a measured sip from his glass. “Partly. Rico’s been causing chaos lately—killing men left and right. The Brotherhood, bikers, even his own men. He’s unpredictable, and when he’s like this, it affects everyone. Eventually, we’ll all have to face the fallout.”

I stepped closer, positioning myself between his knees. “And that’s what’s worrying you.”

“I’d be a fool not to worry,” he muttered. “But it’s not your burden. You can’t change any of it.”

“Maybe not,” I whispered, lowering my voice, “but I can make you feel better.”

His gaze lifted to meet mine, dark and searching. A flicker of warmth broke through the exhaustion in his eyes.

“You really think you can fix everything, piccolina?” he said softly.

“Not everything,” I murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “Just you.”

He shook his head but didn’t stop me when I knelt between his legs. He exhaled as he set his glass down on the table. Smiling up at him, I pulled down his zipper and began massaging him through his boxers until he was hot and hard beneath my touch.

Adrian’s breathing deepened, desire swimming in his eyes. I freed him from his boxers and took only the tip into my mouth. My eyes caught sight of the glass on the side table. Reaching for it, I slipped an ice cube into my mouth. Adrian watched with parted lips, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I sucked on the ice for a few seconds before letting it slide back into the glass, then closed my now-chilled lips around him again.

“Oh, fuck,” he rasped, his head falling back. After a moment, he tilted it forward, watching me through half-closed eyes.

I took him deeper, inch by inch, teasing the sensitive tip with my tongue, savoring his warmth and taste. Adrian’s hands rested flat on the armrest as he allowed me to take control for once. I wanted him to feel cared for—not just physically, but emotionally—because I loved him.

I adored the sounds he made when he neared release—the low moans, the sharp breaths. I loved how his fingers flexed against the leather, how his powerful thighs trembled beneath the expensive fabric of his trousers. But most of all, I loved the possessive gleam in his eyes just before he let go.

“Yes, honey,” he whispered, tensing as a small shudder ran through him. His eyes closed in surrender. My own desire throbbed between my legs, but I pushed it aside for now.

I swallowed and continued to pleasure him with my tongue and mouth as his body twitched with the aftershocks of his climax. I lightly stroked his balls, holding him gently in my mouth, only softly sucking. When he stilled and looked at me, he cupped my cheek with his hand. Slowly, I let him slip free, and he moaned low in his throat. I kissed his thigh. “Do you feel better?”

He chuckled, rough and raw. “Yeah.” He leaned forward, gripping my hips. “Now it’s my turn.”

“This was supposed to be about you.”

“I know.”

Warmth blossomed in my chest. “It sounded like ‘Dada’… or maybe ‘Dad.’ It wasn’t perfect, but I think that’s what she meant.”

Adrian paused, then gently squeezed my arm. His expression didn’t shift much, but the small gesture spoke volumes. He was touched—though sometimes unsure how to show it.

After a moment, I hesitated. “Adrian… I’ve been thinking about something.”

He gave me a curious glance. “What is it?”

“Well,” I began, tracing the edge of his sleeve with my fingers, “I’ve been wondering what Sofia should call me. Stefan calls me Valentina, which is fine—I don’t want to push him. But Sofia…” I took a deep breath before continuing. “She doesn’t remember Serena. She’s too young. And I thought—maybe it would be nice if she had someone to call Mom. Someone who could fill that space for her.”

I looked up at him, uncertain how he’d respond. “I don’t want to overstep. I just thought it might help her feel like she truly belongs.”

Adrian was silent for a moment. Then he pulled me close, pressing a slow, steady kiss to my lips that made my worries melt away. When he pulled back, his voice was quiet but sure.

“You’re right,” he said. “You are her mom now. That’s what she should call you.”

My breath caught. “You really mean it?”

He nodded. “She might be confused at first, since Stefan calls you Valentina, but that’s okay. She’ll take her time. She’ll understand soon enough.”

Relief and tenderness swelled inside me until my chest ached. “That’s okay. I’ll go at their pace. I’m just… happy they both accept me. I love that they feel safe with me.”

Adrian studied me for a moment, a warm light flickering in his dark eyes. “It’s because you accepted them from the very start,” he said softly. “You never resented them or me for everything that came with us. You just… cared.”

I laughed softly. “At first, it felt like a responsibility,” I admitted. “Like something I had to prove I could handle. But it’s not like that anymore. This isn’t a task. It’s a life. Our life.”

He leaned his forehead against mine. “And I can’t imagine it without you,” he whispered.