Davina

Chapter Nineteen

Davina's POV

------------------------------

I wake up with butterflies as Eric trails soft kisses on my body. Starting at my back, he works his way up to my neck, then places kisses on my shoulder and halfway down my arm.

I could fall back asleep from his touch.

I smile as he runs his hands down my body, not hungrily but in a loving, gentle way. Slowly rolling over to face him, I see him smile a genuine smile as our eyes meet, my smile matching his.

"Good morning," he quietly says, tucking my hair behind my ear then rubbing his thumb lightly agaisnt my cheek.

"Morning," I respond.

There's something about Eric that makes me feel safe. Even though we were both born into rivaling mafias, that seems to be the last of my worries right now.

"I have to leave soon," he says with an apologetic look, making me frown. "But I'll make you breakfast, since we've already established that you can't cook for shit."

"My spaghetti meatballs weren't that bad," I mumble with furrowed eyebrows.

"Is that why you gagged at the sight of them?"

"Fuck off."

He laughs, causing me to laugh as well.

"Meet you in the kitchen," he says before getting out of bed and putting his pants on, leaving his upper-body bare.

What a sight for sore eyes.

I stretch my arms and let out a yawn before forcing myself out of the comfy bed. I check the time on the wall clock across the bed, and it's 9:03am. I quickly put on a hoodie and shorts before making my way to the kitchen to find Eric standing at the stove. I never realized how attractive it is for a man to cook his own meals. Probably because this is really the first time I've seen such a thing.

"What are you making?" I ask him, rubbing my eyes.

"Bacon and eggs," he shrugs. "I'd cook something nicer but it would take too long, and I'm needed at the compound."

"Oh yeah," I say. "Have the Mexicans done anything?"

"Stole some weapons," he answers. "I don't know how they found the compound, but hopefully they don't find the main one in Italy. Or the safe houses."

"What happens if they find this one?"

"Then I'll move you to a different one. In fact, you can choose," he grins. "Could even take you to Paris, if I wanted to."

"You guys have a safe house in Paris?"

Eric scoffs. "We have safe houses everywhere."

My father's mafia has safe houses too, though there were very few and only located around Russia and America. We had some in Italy, though past events have caused those houses to fall to dust. My father and Adrian should be at one of our safe houses by now. Little does he know, Francisco doesn't even have plans on attacking them, unless I'm wrong. Eric would've told me if the Russians got involved in this war and so far, I'm the only Russian mafia member that has anything to do with it.

Eric finishes cooking my breakfast and arranged the food nicely onto a plate before sliding it to me along with a spoon and fork. I frown when I see he hasn't cooked for himself.

"You're not gonna eat?" I ask him.

"No, I really gotta go."

"Oh, okay," I nod.

He goes back into the bedroom to change into his suit from last night and comes out, adjusting his jacket. "Text me if you need anything," he tells me.

"I will," I respond.