Bound To My Mafia Stepuncles novel Chapter 222

Chapter 222

POV: Aria

I woke up floating.

Not in water, not in a dream in someone’s arms. Warm. Solid. Careful.

It took me a second to understand I was being carried. The air smelled like salt and smoke. My cheek was pressed against someone’s chest. I blinked up through heavy lashes and found Dante looking

down at me.

His face was calm, but his eyes looked tired. Like he hadn’t slept. Like maybe none of us had.

“You were out cold,” he whispered.

I didn’t say anything. Just let my eyes close again. Let myself melt a little more into his hold. He was warm. Strong. The steady beat of his heart beneath my ear made something inside me relax.

I snuggled in closer.

I didn’t care if it made me look weak. I just wanted to feel safe for one second longer. Just one.

Dante carried me down the hallway like I weighed nothing. I could feel how careful he was with every step. Like I was glass he was scared to crack. I opened my eyes again when I felt the turn of the floor. He brought me into my room. Not the hospital room. Not the couch. My room.

Enzo and Matteo were already there.

The light was low, just the bedside lamp on. The air felt still. Like everything was waiting to exhale.

Dante didn’t say anything as he walked me to the bed. He just lowered me gently onto the mattress, like setting down something fragile. I looked up at him. He touched my hair back behind my ear, then leaned in and kissed my forehead soft, warm, grounding.

–

–

I smiled. Only a little. But it felt like something.

Enzo moved to my side next. He helped me sit up with one arm behind my back. He was always gentle with me now. Quieter. I knew the guilt was still sitting on his chest.

“You need to take these,” he said, handing me two pills and a glass of water.

I took them without arguing. He watched to make sure I did, like a big brother pretending he wasn’t hovering. Then he brushed my shoulder lightly and stood.

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Chapter 222

“Get some sleep,” he said. His voice was rough.

1 nodded.

Dante kissed my cheek again before they both stepped out. They didn’t speak much. They didn’t have to. They knew this moment wasn’t about them.

Then it was just me.

And Matteo.

He didn’t move right away. Didn’t speak. Just stood there watching me, his eyes dark and unreadable. The weight of everything we’d been through still hung in the space between us..

But then he moved.

–

He walked to the bed, slowly. Sat on the edge beside me. Reached for the bag at the foot of the bed and pulled out soft nightwear a loose shirt and shorts. He didn’t say a word as he helped me change. Careful fingers. Gentle tugs. No rush. Just silence, like every movement was something sacred.

When I was dressed, he stood again. Reached for the hem of his shirt. Pulled it off over his head, then unbuttoned his jeans and let them fall to the floor, leaving just his boxers.

I stared.

I didn’t mean to. But I did.

His body was lean muscle and faded bruises. Bandages. A healing cut along his ribs. But even broken, he was beautiful. Like a statue cracked open just enough to feel real.

He didn’t say anything. Just came to me.

He climbed onto the bed and pulled me into him without asking. His arms wrapped around me like a shelter. My cheek found his chest again, but this time it was slower. Closer.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

His fingers moved in slow, steady patterns – across my back, up into my hair, down again. I could feel how tightly he was holding on without squeezing too hard. Like he needed to be sure I was still here.

And I was.

He still didn’t say a word.

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Chapter 222

But I knew.

I knew he needed this.

I let myself melt into him. Legs tangled. Face pressed against the warm skin of his chest. The rhythm of his heart in my ear. His breath soft against my forehead.

The silence didn’t feel heavy now. It felt like peace.

We stayed like that for a long time. Maybe an hour. Maybe forever. The movie was still playing faintly in the other room, a soft soundtrack to the quiet.

–

I hadn’t realized how much I missed this not just his touch, but the way it made me feel like I existed again, like I wasn’t just a shadow flickering between pain and survival. There was something sacred in the way he held me, like every movement was a promise he wasn’t ready to say out loud. I wanted to bottle this feeling and keep it in my chest for the days that would inevitably come – the

hard ones, the sharp ones, the ones where the blood dried too fast and the silence cut too deep. His

hands were a map of everything we’d been through, rough in places but still gentle where it counted. I felt the scrape of a healing cut along his knuckles when his fingers brushed my spine, and I wondered how many punches he’d thrown for me this time. I didn’t ask. I just pressed closer, letting

my body fit into the quiet shape of his, and for a moment, the war outside the walls didn’t matter.

Not the names we’d lost, not the ones we still had to protect. There was only this warmth and

breath and the unspoken ache of two people who had nothing left to give but each other.

Then I broke it. Just a little.

–

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