__________________ ART DECO ♧ LANA DEL REY ____________________

I woke up to the feeling of warmth pressed against me, the scent of Celine's skin still lingering on my sheets. The early morning sun streamed through the sheer curtains, casting a golden glow over the room, but all I could focus on was the woman sprawled across my chest, still tangled in the wreckage of last night.

Her legs were draped over mine, her nails lightly scraping over my stomach as she shifted, stretching like a spoiled cat. I smirked, brushing her tangled hair out of her face. "You alive, princesa?"

She groaned, burying her face against my neck. "Barely. You broke me."

I chuckled, running a hand down her bare spine. "You're still breathing. Guess I didn't go hard enough."

That earned me a sharp pinch to my side, making me laugh. "You're a menace," she grumbled, voice still hoarse from sleep.

I rolled us over in one motion, pinning her beneath me, my lips brushing against her ear. "And you love it."

She shivered, but instead of melting into me like I expected, she shoved at my chest, making me fall back onto the pillows. "We have to get up. Your mother will murder us if we miss the flight."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. The last thing I wanted was to leave this bed, to leave her like this—soft, satisfied, still marked up from the night before. But I knew she was right.

Celine sat up, stretching, completely unbothered by her own nudity. My eyes trailed over the bruises I'd left, the faint scratches down my torso from her nails, and my stomach tightened.

She caught me staring and smirked. "Like what you see, Papi?"

I exhaled slowly. "Always."

She threw a pillow at me before rolling out of bed, heading for the bathroom with a sway in her hips that she damn well knew would drive me insane.

By the time she emerged, wrapped in a towel, I was already pulling on my shirt, watching her from the corner of my eye as she rifled through her suitcase. "You take forever to get ready," I teased.

She shot me a look. "Perfection takes time."

I shook my head, stepping behind her and wrapping my arms around her waist, kissing the side of her neck. "You were perfect the second you woke up."

She hummed, leaning into me for a brief second before smirking. "Flattery isn't going to make me pack any faster."

"Didn't say it would." I kissed her shoulder. "Just stating facts."

With a roll of her eyes, she shoved me away and started tossing clothes into her bag. I watched her, amused, until she suddenly turned to me with a wicked grin.

"What?" I asked warily.

Celine tilted her head. "What do you think about baby names?"

I froze mid-button. "...What?"

She shrugged, all nonchalant, but I could see the mischievous glint in her eyes. "Just thinking ahead."

I narrowed my eyes at her, stepping closer. "You trying to tell me something, Tesoro?"

She bit her lip, dragging out the suspense, then laughed. "Relax, Papi. Not yet."

I exhaled, shaking my head, but deep down, the thought settled somewhere warm inside me.

She was mine. And someday, she'd be mine in every way.

But first, we had a plane to catch.

By the time we finished packing—meaning, by the time I forced Celine to stop throwing things into her suitcase at random and actually close it—we were already running late.

Celine, of course, was completely unbothered, adjusting her sunglasses as we walked through the villa, her heels clicking against the marble floors. I carried both of our bags, because apparently, her "packing method" involved stuffing her suitcase so full that the zipper was barely holding on for dear life.

"We wouldn't be rushing if you hadn't spent half an hour debating what lipstick to wear," I muttered.

She shot me a look over her sunglasses. "First of all, it was twenty minutes. Second, do you want a wife who looks put together or one who looks like she got dragged out of bed?"

I smirked, gripping her waist and pulling her against me. "I wouldn't mind if you looked like you just got fucked, Tesoro."

She gasped, slapping my chest. "Antonio!"

I chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple before leading her outside, where the cars were already waiting. The rest of my family was there, finishing up goodbyes with some extended relatives who had come to see us off.

Alessandro leaned against one of the cars, sunglasses on, arms crossed, looking like he was already over this entire trip. "About time," he muttered.

I ignored him, placing our bags in the trunk. My mother approached, kissing my cheek before turning to Celine.

"Did you two enjoy the trip?" she asked, her voice warm but sharp enough to tell me she was really asking, Did you two behave?

Celine, ever the professional, smiled sweetly. "It was wonderful. Thank you for having me."

My mother studied her for a moment, then nodded, apparently satisfied. "Good. I expect you both at dinner next week. No excuses."

I barely resisted a sigh. "We'll be there."

With that, we finally climbed into the car. As soon as the door shut, Celine leaned against me with a dramatic sigh. "Your family is exhausting."

I chuckled, wrapping an arm around her. "You love it."

She hummed, tilting her face up toward me. "I love you."

My chest tightened at the words, the ease with which she said them. I tilted her chin up, brushing my lips over hers. "I love you more, Tesoro."

Her fingers curled into my shirt, holding me there for just a second longer before she pulled back with a smirk. "Now, let's talk about baby names."

I groaned, dropping my head back against the seat. "You're never letting that go, are you?"

She grinned. "Nope."

And just like that, the chaos started all over again.

The jet was smooth and quiet as it took off from the Amalfi Coast, the stunning view of the cliffs and the sparkling sea shrinking below us. Celine had settled into her seat, her legs crossed over one another as she flipped through a magazine—something about celebrity gossip, no doubt. Her sunglasses were perched on her head, and she looked effortlessly stunning even in the comfort of the private jet.

I leaned back in my seat, my mind already turning over everything that awaited us back home. The business, the responsibilities, the family drama—it never stopped. But for now, I'd let it go.

Celine turned to me, catching my gaze with that mischievous glint in her eye. She set her magazine down on the armrest. "So, about those baby names..."

I groaned, throwing my head back. "Are we really doing this again?"

She smiled sweetly. "Absolutely. It's very important, Antonio. You don't want our kids to have boring names, do you?"

I shot her a playful look. "They won't be boring. Just... traditional."

"Traditional?" she scoffed. "We're not naming our kid after some old family member or a godfather."

I raised an eyebrow. "You'd rather name them something... unique?"

Her eyes lit up with a glint of excitement. "I don't know... how about something strong, like 'Leonardo' for a boy? Or 'Isabella' for a girl?"

I rolled my eyes, trying to hold back a smile. "Leonardo? Is that so they can have a tragic, tortured artist vibe?"

She laughed. "Maybe. But it sounds strong, don't you think?"

I thought about it for a moment, letting the name roll off my tongue. "Hmm... I'll give you that. It does have a ring to it."

Celine looked pleased with herself, her fingers tracing the rim of her water glass. "Well, what about a name like 'Giovanni'? It's classic, strong... it just feels right, don't you think?"

I tilted my head, studying her for a moment. "So, I take it you've already got an entire list of names saved in your phone, huh?"

She grinned mischievously. "Maybe."

I laughed and leaned back in my seat, my arm casually draped over her shoulder. "We'll think about it later. But no promises on the 'Giovanni' thing."

She pouted playfully. "Well, I tried. But it's a good name. You know, it's got a certain... authority."

"I think that's just your way of saying you want a kid to rule the world, huh?"

Celine's eyes sparkled. "Maybe. Why not?"

I chuckled, feeling my chest tighten with something more than just amusement. It was a warmth I couldn't quite shake off. The idea of having a family with her, of raising a kid together—it didn't seem as crazy as it once had.

Before I could say anything else, Celine shifted in her seat and stretched out, her long legs brushing against mine. "Do you think we'll be able to take a break after we land?"

I gave her a knowing smile. "Break? What's that?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "I'm serious, Antonio. We've been running non-stop. It'd be nice to relax for once. Maybe stay in bed all day?"

"Sounds like a dream, Tesoro," I replied, my voice lowering slightly as I traced my fingers along her wrist. "But we both know the second we land, things are going to get hectic. My family, the business—it never stops."

She sighed, resting her head against my shoulder. "I know. It's just... I don't know, I'm already dreading going back."

I ran my fingers through her hair, letting the moment settle between us. "I get it. But we'll make it work. I'll take care of everything. You won't have to worry about a thing."

She glanced up at me, her eyes soft. "You always say that. But I want to help too, you know? It's not just your responsibility."

I smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "I know, Tesoro. But some things I'd rather handle on my own for now. For you, for us."

Celine didn't respond immediately, but the silence was comfortable. We were both lost in the comfort of each other's presence, and for once, the weight of the world outside the jet seemed just a little bit lighter.

After a moment, she shifted again, looking at me with a more serious expression. "You know, I've been thinking..."

I raised an eyebrow. "About?"

Her lips quirked up slightly. "Maybe we should have more than one kid. You know, have a big family."

I blinked at her. "More than one? You're already planning an army, huh?"

"Maybe," she teased, her eyes dancing with mischief. "I think it'd be fun. Big house, lots of kids, all that stuff."

I laughed, the idea of it sinking in slowly. "We'll see, Tesoro. One step at a time."

She leaned against me again, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest. "Yeah, one step at a time."

The plane continued its quiet journey, the two of us lost in our thoughts, the soft hum of the engine lulling us into a rare moment of peace before the chaos of our lives picked up again.

But for now, I had her by my side—and that was enough.

The plane touched down with a smooth jolt, and as soon as we landed, I could feel the weight of everything settling back around me. It was as if the quiet of the Amalfi Coast had been replaced by the relentless hum of the city—the family, the business, the responsibilities. But there was something else in the air, something different this time. Celine, next to me, was bubbling with an energy that I hadn't seen in a while.

As we pulled up to the house, I couldn't help but notice the massive pile of boxes stacked in front of the door. It was like a mountain of cardboard and tape had exploded on the porch.

I raised an eyebrow. "What the hell is all this?"

Celine's face lit up, her smile wide and unapologetic. "My shopping. Well, most of it. Some of it's for my new project."

I frowned, stepping out of the car and giving the boxes another glance. "New project?"

She nodded enthusiastically, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head. "I've been thinking about it for a while, Antonio. I want to start my own clothing line."

I stood there for a moment, taking in her words. A clothing line? I hadn't expected that. She had always had a thing for fashion, but I didn't know it was something she was serious about.

"What kind of clothing line?" I asked, still processing it all.

"Well," she started, walking toward the boxes and carefully inspecting one of them. "I want to create something that blends luxury with street style, but with a unique twist—something that ties back to where I'm from. You know, the Ruslana name, the family." She turned to me with a smirk. "Plus, I'm sick of just wearing everyone else's stuff. Why not make my own?"

I crossed my arms, considering it. "So, you're just going to start a whole fashion brand out of nowhere?"

She raised an eyebrow at me, almost like I was doubting her. "I've been doing research, Antonio. I've had meetings with designers, manufacturers, all that. And, um, I might have had a little help."

My curiosity piqued. "Help? From who?"

Her lips curled into a smile that wasn't exactly innocent. "Indiyah."

I froze, my gaze sharpening. "Indiyah? From the Lebedov family?"

She nodded, sitting on top of one of the boxes. "Yeah. She reached out to me a while ago after seeing some of my sketches and designs. She wants to partner with me—says the Lebedovs are looking to expand their brand, and they're interested in what I could bring to the table."

The Lebedovs were a major power in the fashion world, particularly in the mafia scene. Their brand, steeped in opulence and exclusivity, was practically synonymous with their criminal empire. They had covered their mafia operations with their clothing lines for years—elegance mixed with danger, making them one of the most influential names in both the fashion and underworld scenes.

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to process what she was saying. "The Lebedovs? You're working with them now?"

Celine shrugged, a smirk playing on her lips. "Not working with them, just partnering up. They have the connections, and I have the designs. Together, we can do something big. And, trust me, I wouldn't have agreed if I didn't think this was the right move."

I exhaled sharply, running the situation through my mind. The Lebedovs were powerful, ruthless, and had the kind of pull in the fashion industry that could make or break her career. They could offer her the kind of exposure and reach she couldn't get anywhere else. But there was also the darker side—the fact that their empire was built on criminal dealings.

I walked toward her, my voice quieter now. "And you're okay with that? The connection to the mafia?"

Her eyes softened, a mix of determination and trust in them. "Antonio, I know who I'm dealing with. I'm not naive. But if I'm going to do this, I want to do it right. I want something for myself. And with the Ruslanas' name behind me, it's not like we're going in blind. We're in this game too."

She had a point. The Ruslanas and Lebedovs weren't exactly strangers to each other, especially considering the overlap in their business dealings. It wasn't like she was going into something completely unknown.

I leaned against the doorframe, considering her words. "Alright. But if you're doing this, you're doing it with caution. The Lebedovs have their own... way of handling things. You don't get to that level without making enemies."

Celine's expression didn't falter. "I can handle it, Antonio. And I'll have you by my side, won't I?"

I met her gaze, my chest tightening at the thought of her stepping into this world—a world that had its fair share of risks. But I couldn't deny the fire in her eyes, the confidence that came with her ambition.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Tesoro," I muttered, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward the boxes.

"Good," she grinned, her voice low. "Because you're going to be my biggest supporter."

I chuckled. "I don't know about that. I'm just here to make sure you don't get caught up in anything too dangerous."

"Always the protector," she teased, standing up and brushing off her hands. "But you should know, I'm not some delicate flower. I can handle myself."

I smirked, taking in the sight of her, the woman who had somehow stolen my heart in the most unexpected way. "We'll see about that. But for now, I think you've got enough boxes to sort through."

Celine winked, giving me one last teasing glance. "You don't mind, do you? I'm just getting started."

I watched her dive into the chaos of boxes and unpacking, knowing full well this was only the beginning of her new venture—and, if I was being honest, I was curious to see how far she could go with it.

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new book out !!