______________________

COME THROUGH

♧

THE WEEKEND _________________________

EVER SINCE ANTONIO had touched me—had his fingers in me, had his tongue ruin me—I hadn't been the same. I was still me, still sharp, still relentless. But I wasn't whole without him anymore. My body knew his, craved it like instinct. It wasn't just in my pussy; it was everywhere. My skin felt too tight, my breath too shallow, my pulse too frantic. Every nerve in me was waiting for him to touch me again, to fall back into my arms, to devour me like I was the only thing that mattered.

Although... this could also mean I was ovulating.

I huffed a breath, shaking my head. Whatever the reason, it didn't change the fact that I needed him. Badly.

I glanced at my phone. Nothing.

He was working, I knew that. But that didn't mean I wasn't about to make it his problem.

I got up, slipping on something Antonio would call a distraction—a silk robe, barely tied, sheer enough to make a man forget his own name. Then, I made my way downstairs.

Let him work. I'd be waiting.

I walked into the kitchen, my stomach set on eating something, only to find Nico, Dante, and Sophia sitting at my table, eating like they lived here. Like this was their house. Like I wasn't the actual owner.

I stopped, crossing my arms. "Why are you guys always in my house?"

Nico barely looked up from his plate, popping another piece of toast into his mouth. "You're fun to be around," he said, as if that explained anything.

Dante leaned back in his chair, stretching. "We were hungry. Your kitchen's better stocked than ours."

Sophia didn't even bother looking guilty, just smirked. "And someone has to make sure you're not burning the place down while Antonio's at work."

I rolled my eyes. "You're really not at work?"

"Of course, we're working," Dante said, grinning. "We're just taking a break. Managing the chaos remotely."

"Besides," Sophia added, winking, "we wouldn't want to miss out on your... company."

I sighed, shaking my head. "So, basically, you're just freeloading."

I sighed, already over their bullshit. If they were going to hang around and eat all my food, I might as well make my own plans.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I scrolled through my contacts until I landed on CRO4L. Val, Koko, and Malakai—the only three people who could match my energy without pissing me off. Well, most of the time.

I hit the call button and put the phone to my ear.

Koko answered first. "Celine. To what do we owe the honor?"

"Who wants to hang out?" I asked, ignoring his teasing tone. "I'm bored."

"You? Bored? Doesn't Antonio keep you entertained?" Val's voice chimed in, amused.

"Antonio's at work," I said dryly. "And everyone here is annoying me."

Malakai finally spoke, sounding amused as hell. "Come out with us. We're heading to a bar. You in?"

A slow smirk crept onto my lips. "You had me at 'bar.' Pick me up."

I hung up and turned to Nico, Dante, and Sophia, who were all watching me like they knew exactly what I was up to.

"Going somewhere?" Nico asked.

"Yes," I said, already heading toward the stairs to get changed. "And no, you're not invited."

♧

I stood in front of my mirror, adjusting the straps of my black dress. It was short—Antonio-short, meaning if he saw me in it, he'd probably pick me up and throw me over his shoulder before I even made it out the door.

I smirked at the thought, grabbing my lip gloss and applying a thick coat. As I ran my fingers through my hair, I reached for my phone, debating whether I should let him know I was going out.

Not that I needed his permission. But Antonio always liked knowing where I was, and I usually didn't mind telling him.

I pressed his contact and put the phone to my ear.

It rang.

And rang.

And rang.

I frowned. That was weird. Antonio always answered my calls—always. Even when he was in a meeting, even when he was pissed at me, even when he was busy doing something illegal.

I checked the time. He should still be at work. Maybe he left his phone somewhere? Or he was actually too busy to pick up?

I exhaled sharply and threw my phone onto the bed. It was probably nothing. Antonio wasn't the type to ignore me. If anything, he'd call back the second he saw my missed call.

Still, a strange feeling settled in my gut.

I pushed it down.

I was overthinking.

Grabbing my purse, I gave myself one last look in the mirror before heading downstairs.

The second I stepped outside, the black SUV was already waiting. I barely had time to lock the door before Val rolled down the window, sunglasses on even though the sun had set.

"Damn, bitch." Koko whistled from the front seat. "Who are you trying to make mad in that dress?"

I smirked, sliding into the backseat next to Malakai. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Val turned around, pushing her shades down her nose. "If Antonio sees you in that, we're gonna have to start a GoFundMe for the bar's damages."

Malakai chuckled darkly. "You should've told me to bring my gun."

I side-eyed Malakai. "Oh, like you don't have it on you."

Silence.

Then—three clicks.

Val, Koko, and Malakai all reached into their jackets, pulling out their guns in sync like some fucked-up magic trick.

I sighed, dragging my hand into my purse and pulling out my own piece. "Y'all act like I don't stay strapped."

Koko cackled, flicking ash out the window. "That's my girl."

Malakai smirked. "You even know how to use that, or you just like how it looks in your bag?"

I turned, resting my gun against his thigh. His muscles tensed, but his smirk didn't waver.

"You wanna find out?" I said sweetly.

Val howled from the driver's seat, nearly swerving. "God, I fucking love her."

Malakai grinned, taking a slow drag from the joint. "That's my bitch."

Koko nudged me. "Antonio's gonna have a fucking stroke when he finds out we let you out the house like this."

I shrugged, tucking my gun away. "He should've answered his phone then."

Malakai exhaled, watching me. "Hope he's okay."

Something in my chest twisted, but I ignored it, inhaling slow, letting the smoke burn through my thoughts.

"He's fine," I muttered, passing the joint back.

Val flicked on the turn signal, glancing at me in the mirror. "Yeah? Then why do you look like you just felt a bad omen?"

I stared out the window, watching the city blur past.

Because I did.

The bar was exactly the same. Sticky floors, dim lights, a bartender who barely acknowledged us except to pour drinks, and music that was either too loud or too shitty—usually both.

"Goddamn," Val laughed, pushing the door open like she was walking into her own house. "This place is still standing?"

Koko smirked, flicking her lighter open to light a cigarette. "I don't know how. I swear I saw a rat last time we were here."

"Respect the rat," I said, already heading to our usual booth like it hadn't been years since we first claimed it. "He's been putting in work longer than you."

Malakai chuckled, sliding in beside me and stretching his arms over the back of the seat. "Same fucking smell."

"Same sticky-ass floors," Val added, kicking her boot against the tile.

"Same Luis," Koko said, nodding toward the bartender, who saw us and didn't even bother asking what we wanted—just started pouring.

Luis had been here forever. Since we were teenagers sneaking in with fake IDs that looked like we made them on a school computer. He never questioned it. Maybe it was because we carried ourselves like we belonged. Or maybe it was because he knew better.

Drinks landed on the table, and Malakai grabbed his first, raising it. "To still being the best motherfuckers to ever walk in here."

"To being sexy as fuck," Val corrected, clinking her glass against his.

"To no one ever fucking with us," Koko added.

"To us," I said simply, smirking as we knocked our glasses together.

We drank. The burn was familiar, sharp, and warm.

"This feels exactly like when we were kids," I said, licking a drop of liquor off my lip.

"Except now we actually have money," Malakai said, rolling his glass in his palm.

"And better aim," Koko added, tapping the gun in her waistband.

Val grinned. "Speak for yourself. I had perfect aim at fifteen."

"That's because you were insane," I pointed out.

She shrugged. "And now I'm just refined."

I laughed, shaking my head. God, I missed this. The reckless energy, the way we bounced off each other like we had no business being anywhere else but together.

The drinks blurred together, but the feeling in my chest didn't.

I missed him. God, I missed him.

Every sip of liquor made it worse, made it sharper, made me ache with it. I could still feel his hands on me from last night, still taste him on my tongue, still hear his voice in my head telling me I was his. But he wasn't here. He was at work, doing whatever serious mafia bullshit he did, and I was here—drunk, barefoot, and surrounded by my best friends, but not him.

And I wanted my husband. My man. Now.

I dragged a hand down my face, already feeling too hot. "I wanna see Antonio."

Val, half-sprawled across the table, blinked at me, slow and unfocused. "Like...right now?"

"Yes," I breathed. "Right fucking now."

Malakai scoffed, tapping his lighter against the table. "You're wasted."

"And barefoot," Koko added, giving my feet a pointed look.

I stretched my legs onto Malakai's lap, fully unbothered. "So?"

Koko grinned. "So, this is insane."

I smirked. "No, this is love."

Val whistled low, shaking her head. "She got it bad."

"I do," I admitted, shameless. "I need him."

Malakai exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple like I was giving him a headache. "You're a fucking menace."

"And you're gonna take me to him," I said sweetly.

Koko was already standing, throwing an arm around my shoulder. "Oh, this is about to be so good."

Val grinned, flicking her cigarette into an empty glass. "Drunk, barefoot, and demanding a ride to see your man at work? This is next-level unhinged. Let's go."

And just like that, I was being dropped off at Antonio's office, no shoes, no shame, completely wasted—because I needed my husband.

Got it! Antonio's brothers are Emiliano and Alessandro, and his cousins are Nico and Dante.

Now, here's how Celine stumbles into the office and meets his brothers:

I pushed open the heavy office doors, nearly tripping over my own damn feet. The hallway spun. Or maybe I did. Hard to tell.

I steadied myself against the wall, blinking hard. Focus. I was here for Antonio. My man. My husband. My everything.

The sound of voices from inside his office barely registered over the pounding in my head. Or maybe that was my heart. Or the tequila. Probably both.

I shoved the door open dramatically—at least, in my head, it was dramatic. In reality, I was just a drunk, barefoot woman with wild hair and a mission.

Antonio's brothers, Emiliano and Alessandro, were inside. Tall. Sharp-eyed. Built like Antonio, but not him. Not my Antonio.

They turned to me at the same time, identical expressions of surprise morphing into amusement.

"Celine?" Emiliano drawled, leaning back against the desk like this was the most normal thing in the world. "You good?"

I ignored him, eyes searching the room. "Where's Antonio?"

Alessandro smirked, arms crossed. "You look like a hurricane hit you."

I huffed, running a hand through my hair. "I am a hurricane. Now, where's my husband?"

Emiliano chuckled, shaking his head. "He's busy, cuore mio. You can't just barge in."

Alessandro smirked. "Unless you wanna sit here and wait like the rest of us."

I scoffed. Wait? For my own husband? Not a fucking chance.

I pushed past them, my bare feet slapping against the marble floor. "Yeah, that's cute," I muttered, shouldering through the heavy door.

Antonio was on the phone, standing behind his desk, looking all serious and important. His brows pinched when he saw me stumble in, confused at first—then his dark eyes flicked to his brothers behind me.

His face hardened. "How the fuck did you let her through?"

I wobbled. My body felt light, my head dizzy, and suddenly, the weight of missing him, needing him, pressed into my chest. I bit my lip, my vision blurring.

Antonio cursed under his breath, immediately hanging up. "Tesoro," he murmured, striding toward me.

Before I could respond, he lifted me—effortlessly. Like I was some delicate thing. My hands clutched his shoulders, my breath catching as he carried me to his chair and sat down, placing me gently in his lap.

"Talk to me, baby," he murmured, brushing his thumb over my cheek. "What's wrong?"

I pouted, gripping his shirt, burying my face in his chest. "You didn't answer my call."

Antonio sighed, resting his chin against my head as he held me closer. His warmth melted into me, grounding me in a way that the drinks couldn't.

"I was working, Tesoro," he murmured, his voice softer now, his hand stroking up and down my spine. "You know I would've answered if I could."

I whined, gripping his shirt tighter. "But you always answer." My voice was thick, almost slurring, but I meant every word. I could feel his brothers still standing there, watching, but I didn't care.

Antonio sighed again, but this time, there was something deeper in it—something like guilt. "I know, baby. I know."

I pulled back, blinking up at him. His face was unreadable, his brows slightly furrowed, his jaw tense.

"You don't sound sorry," I muttered, running my fingers over his shirt. "You should sound more sorry."

Alessandro snorted. "Christ, she's really gone, huh?"

"Completely," Emiliano agreed, laughing.

Antonio shot them both a glare before turning back to me. He cupped my jaw, tilting my head so I had no choice but to look at him.

"I am sorry," he said, his voice dropping to that tone that always made me shiver. "I hate that I made you feel like I wasn't here." His thumb brushed over my lower lip, his eyes darkening slightly. "You know I'm always here for you, Tesoro."

I pouted again, but the tension in my chest loosened.

Antonio tilted his head. "Why don't I take you home?"

"No." I nuzzled back into him. "I wanna stay with you."

Antonio exhaled a quiet chuckle, kissing my forehead. "You're so stubborn, you know that?"

"You married me."

He smirked. "I did."

I sighed, sinking into him. "Then let me stay."

Antonio glanced at his brothers, who were still loitering in the doorway. "Fuori," he ordered. "Close the door."

Alessandro let out an amused whistle, but they listened, stepping out and shutting the door behind them.

Antonio leaned back in his chair, shifting me so I straddled his lap. His hands found my waist, steadying me as I swayed slightly.

"Tesoro," he said again, softer now. "How much did you drink?"

I smirked, pressing my forehead against his. "Enough to miss you."

"Yeah, but how much?"

I dragged my fingers through his hair, tilting my head lazily. "Papi, I'm ovulating."

Antonio stilled. His grip on my waist tightened just a little. "Oh, are we?"

"Mhm..." I hummed, nuzzling against his jaw. "You still want a baby?"

Antonio sighed, brushing a hand down my back. "Tesoro, you're drunk."

I pulled back, frowning. "That's not an answer."

He exhaled, his eyes dragging over my face, searching. "Of course I still want a baby." His voice was soft, deep, laced with something unreadable.

I bit my lip. "Then let's have one."

Antonio chuckled, shaking his head. "You're not even gonna remember this conversation tomorrow."

"Yes, I will," I argued, poking his chest. "I'm not that drunk."

He raised a brow. "Tesoro, you walked into my office barefoot."

I gasped. "That's not the point."

Antonio laughed, shifting me in his lap. "No, but the point is I want you sober when we have this conversation. When I put a baby in you, I want you to know what you're asking for."

I pouted, crossing my arms. "You're no fun."

He smirked, gripping my chin between his fingers, tilting my face toward his. "I'm plenty fun. You just need to wait until the morning to find out."

My stomach flipped, heat crawling up my spine. He knew exactly what he was doing, what his voice did to me.

I huffed. "Fine."

Antonio kissed my forehead. "Good girl."

I melted into him, my eyes fluttering shut. His warmth, his scent—everything about him was home.

He held me tighter. "Let's get you home, Tesoro."

Antonio carried me to the car, keeping me pressed against him like he was afraid I'd disappear if he let go. The drive home was a blur of his scent, his warmth, the deep rumble of his voice as he murmured things I couldn't quite focus on.

By the time we got inside, I was already tugging at his shirt, desperate, needy. He barely got the door closed before I pulled his face down to mine, kissing him with the kind of hunger that left no space for air.

"Baby," he rasped between kisses, his hands gripping my hips. "You sure?"

"Yes," I moaned, dragging my nails down his chest. "I need you."

Antonio groaned, pressing me against the wall, his lips devouring mine. My dress slipped from my shoulders, pooling at my feet, leaving me bare against him. His hands roamed my skin like he was memorizing every inch, his mouth hot against my neck.

My fingers fumbled with his belt, pulling it loose, desperate to feel him. "Antonio, please—"

He exhaled sharply, gripping my wrists. "Tesoro, wait."

I blinked up at him, my breath unsteady. "Why?"

His gaze was dark, filled with restraint. "You're still drunk."

I shook my head, pressing my forehead against his. "I'm not that drunk."

He cupped my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. "I want you sober. I want you to know, without a doubt, that this is what you want."

I stared at him, my heart pounding. He was right. I was tipsy, my thoughts slightly hazy—but even through the blur, I knew.

I wanted this. I wanted him.

I wanted everything.

The realization settled in my chest like an anchor.

I loved him. I loved Antonio.

And I wanted something real with him. A family. A baby. His baby.

I pulled back slightly, my hands running down his chest. "Antonio..."

He kissed my forehead. "Get some rest, Tesoro," he murmured, lifting me into his arms and carrying me to bed.

I curled into him, pressing my lips to his jaw. "Tomorrow," I whispered.

He smiled against my skin. "Tomorrow."

____________________________________

anyway y'all how are you guys im not gonna say much but how was this??

remember to drink water !!

- zio 🍸