__________________ FLY GIRL ♧ FLO ____________________

THE CONFERENCE ROOM smelled like espresso and expensive cigars, a combination that reminded me of every family meeting I'd ever been forced to sit through. My uncles, cousins, and brothers were seated around the long glass table, going over logistics for our next shipment, while my father sat at the head of the table, quietly listening.

I leaned back in my chair, running a hand down my face as Alessandro finished his report. "We'll have everything cleared by the end of the week, but I want to double-check our security on the docks. There was some noise about a new surveillance system."

Emiliano nodded. "I'll handle it. If someone's watching, we need to know who."

I tapped my fingers against the table, barely listening. My mind wasn't in this room—it was still back home, with Celine. The image of her that morning, draped in sheets, lips swollen from my kisses, played in my head like a fucking distraction.

I needed to focus.

"So, what's the verdict?" Alessandro looked at me expectantly.

I exhaled, straightening. "Keep things quiet. If there's an issue, I want to know before it becomes a problem."

They nodded, and the conversation shifted to other matters—new alliances, money movement, potential threats. Business as usual.

And then my mother walked in.

Gianna Genovese never entered a room unnoticed. Even now, dressed in an elegant black dress, her heels clicking against the marble floors, she commanded attention. My father glanced at her but said nothing as she made her way toward me.

"Antonio," she said smoothly, placing a hand on my shoulder before pressing a kiss to my cheek. "You've been so busy lately."

"I have a business to run," I replied.

She smiled knowingly. "And a wife to keep happy."

I didn't respond, but she patted my cheek before turning to the rest of the family. "Now that all this nonsense is out of the way, I wanted to discuss something important."

Alessandro groaned. "Mamma, if this is about—"

"It is." She waved him off before looking at me. "We're planning a family trip. The Amalfi Coast. A few weeks, just us."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Mamma..."

"No excuses." She folded her arms. "You work too much. You need to relax."

"I don't have time to disappear for weeks," I said.

"You never do." She huffed. "Celine, however, would love it. She deserves a vacation, doesn't she?"

I clenched my jaw. She was playing dirty now.

Emiliano smirked. "She's got you there, fratello."

I exhaled sharply. "I'll think about it."

My mother beamed, already acting like it was confirmed. "Good. I'll tell Celine to start packing."

I shook my head, knowing there was no way out of this now.

The meeting wrapped up soon after my mother's announcement, but I wasn't fooled. She would find a way to make this trip happen, whether I agreed or not.

As the rest of my family trickled out of the room, Alessandro lingered by the window, lighting a cigarette. He exhaled slowly before glancing at me.

"She's right, you know."

I raised a brow. "About what?"

"You working too much. When was the last time you and Celine actually went somewhere?"

I loosened my tie, sighing. "I don't have the luxury of stepping away just because I feel like it."

"You think I do?" He chuckled dryly. "We all carry the weight of this family, Antonio. But that doesn't mean we forget why we do it." He flicked his ash into a tray. "Take the trip. Fucking enjoy yourself for once."

I didn't respond.

Because the truth was, I wanted to.

But something about leaving everything unattended made me uneasy.

Alessandro pushed off the windowsill and clapped me on the back before heading out.

I sat there for a moment, staring at the glass table, my mind already shifting back to work—schedules, shipments, risks. But then my phone buzzed, breaking my focus.

Celine.

I smirked, unlocking my phone to see her message.

Celine: Papi, if we're going to the Amalfi Coast, I need new bikinis. Send funds.

I chuckled.

She was already on board.

Of course she was.

I shook my head, texting back.

Me: Get whatever you want, Tesoro.

A response came instantly.

Celine: I was going to anyway.

I pushed back from the table, grabbing my jacket. There was still work to be done, but suddenly, I wasn't in the mood to waste the rest of my day in meetings.

I had a wife to get home to.

By the time I pulled into the driveway, I already knew what to expect.

Celine never did anything quietly.

The moment I stepped inside, I was met with the distinct sound of loud music—something upbeat, paired with the constant chatter of multiple voices overlapping.

I sighed, shutting the door behind me before loosening my tie.

Sure enough, as I made my way toward the bedroom, I found the usual suspects—CRO4L—spread out across the room like they lived here.

Val was sprawled on the bed, sunglasses perched on her head as she scrolled through her phone. Malakai was sitting on the floor, surrounded by piles of clothes that I was almost certain belonged to Celine. And Koko? She was in front of the mirror, holding up two bikinis, switching between them as if her life depended on it.

And right in the center of it all was my wife—standing half-dressed in the middle of her closet, wearing nothing but one of my dress shirts, laughing as she tossed more clothes onto the growing pile.

I leaned against the doorway, crossing my arms. "Should I even ask?"

Celine turned at the sound of my voice, her lips curving into a slow smile. "Papi, you're home."

Val sat up immediately, a wicked grin on her face. "Good timing, boss man. We're helping your wife pack."

Malakai let out a snort. "Helping? More like enabling. She wants to take twenty bikinis for a two-week trip."

Celine shot him a look. "And?"

Koko hummed in agreement. "I don't see the problem."

I shook my head, stepping further inside. "Tesoro, you do realize we're not moving to Amalfi permanently, right?"

She huffed, placing her hands on her hips. "I need options."

Val flopped back on the bed. "Exactly. What if she has a 'lying-by-the-pool' bikini but needs a 'sipping-wine-on-the-boat' bikini? These are important distinctions."

I exhaled, already knowing there was no winning this argument. Celine and her friends had their own logic—one I would never understand but had long since accepted.

I stepped closer to her, fingers brushing against the hem of my shirt she was wearing—my shirt, barely buttoned, hanging loose off her frame, showing off long, golden legs.

"You need options, huh?" I murmured, dragging my knuckles down her thigh.

Celine smirked, tilting her chin up. "Obviously."

Koko cleared her throat loudly. "Uh, sir? This is a family-friendly event."

Val cackled. "Girl, nothing about them is family-friendly."

Malakai shook his head, standing up and stretching. "Alright, I'm tapping out before they start making out in front of us. I'll see you degenerates later."

Koko stood too, grabbing her purse. "Yeah, same. Celine, I'll send you links for those dresses I found."

"Text me which ones you want me to order too," Val added, slipping on her sunglasses before blowing a kiss toward Celine. "Love you, bitch."

Celine grinned. "Love you more."

As they left, I pulled her closer, inhaling the lingering scent of her perfume. "You really are taking this trip seriously, aren't you?"

She looped her arms around my neck. "Of course. When was the last time we actually went away together? No work. No stress. Just us?"

I traced my thumb along her jaw. "Too long."

Her gaze softened, something warm flickering in her eyes. "Exactly."

I sighed, resting my forehead against hers. "Fine. Take all the damn bikinis you want."

Celine giggled, pressing a kiss to my lips. "I was going to anyway."

Of course she was.

I sighed again, grabbing a suitcase off the bed. "Alright, let's get this finished before you end up packing the entire closet."

She beamed. "Good. Because I need your opinion on lingerie."

I groaned. "Jesus Christ."

Celine just laughed, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the closet.

This trip was going to kill me.

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