Claimed by the Capo

The Door Stays Open

The knock came at 1:17am.

Three times. Low.

Lily wasn’t asleep. She’d been waiting.

For the last two hours she’d laid in the dark listening to the apartment breathe. Listening for footsteps. For the creak of the guest room chair. For any sign that Matteo had left and wasn’t coming back.

He hadn’t. The light under the door never went out.

She pulled the sheet higher. Her heart was beating too fast. Ever since dinner at the Russo estate, everything felt like it was tilting. The lies. The baby they didn’t have. His hand on her back. _“You’re mine.”_

Then the knock.

“Come in,” she said, and her voice didn’t shake. Much.

Matteo stepped inside. Sweatpants. Black tee. Hair still damp from a shower he clearly didn’t take to get clean. He took it to get his head straight. It hadn’t worked.

“I tried the chair,” he said, voice rough. He looked wrecked. “Didn’t work.”

The room felt smaller with him in it. Always did.

Lily sat up. The sheet fell to her waist. She was wearing one of his shirts from the night before. It swallowed her. “Then don’t.”

Something flashed in his eyes. Control snapping. The Capo mask cracking right down the middle.

He crossed the room in two steps and stopped at the edge of the bed. Close enough that she could feel the heat off him. Close enough to see the muscle in his jaw ticking.

“Lily,” he said. It wasn’t a question. It was a warning. To himself.

“Don’t,” she whispered back. “Don’t pretend this is still about the contract.”

Matteo cursed under his breath. His hand came up and gripped her jaw, thumb pressing under her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he growled.

“I know exactly what I’m asking for.”

That was it.

He kissed her like he’d been starving. Like the dinner with his father, the lies, the months of waiting since that night in the club — all of it broke at once. One hand fisted in her hair, the other yanking her flush against him until there was no space left. No air. No contract. Just them.

It wasn’t gentle. It was claiming. Possessive. Every touch said _mine_ without using the word.

The shirt went first. Then his. Clothes ended up on the floor. Fast. Desperate. Like if they stopped, reality would come back and ruin it.

Matteo held her like she might disappear. Like if he didn’t touch every inch of her, someone else would. His mouth was on her neck, her collarbone, the curve of her shoulder. His hands anchored her to him, big and warm and sure.

“Lily,” he breathed against her skin. Breaking away for half a second. “Tell me to stop.”

She arched into him instead. Fingers dragging down his back. “Don’t you dare.”

That broke him.

What came after wasn’t sweet. It was raw and consuming and months of tension snapping all at once. He kept one hand locked with hers above her head, the other memorizing her like he was afraid he’d forget. He whispered her name like a prayer and a curse at the same time. Like he couldn’t believe she was letting him. Like he couldn’t believe he was letting himself.

And when it was over, he didn’t pull away.

He stayed. Heavy. Breathing hard against her neck. His arms locked around her like he was afraid the world would take her if he let go.

The room was silent except for both of them trying to catch their breath. The city hummed 40 floors below.

Matteo finally moved, pulling the blanket up and dragging her against his chest. His face buried in her hair. He smelled like soap and him.

“f**k,” he muttered. “Lily.”

She was shaking. Not from fear. From him. From the way he’d said her name.

“Was that a mistake?” she asked, voice small.

His arm tightened. “The only mistake would’ve been pretending it wasn’t going to happen.”

She closed her eyes.

Outside, the city kept moving. Inside, the door stayed open.

---

*An hour later*

Lily tried to sit up and her body protested. Everything ached in a way she didn’t hate, but didn’t expect either.

Matteo was already awake. Watching her. Elbow propped under his head, eyes dark in the dim light.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded. They didn’t. “Sore.”

He sat up immediately. “Where?”

“Everywhere.” She tried to laugh but it came out breathless. “I think I forgot how to walk.”

Matteo was off the bed before she could say anything else. He scooped her up like she weighed nothing. One arm under her knees, the other supporting her back.

“Matteo, put me down—”

“No.”

He carried her to the bathroom. The big marble one off the master. He set her down on the closed toilet seat and turned the shower on. Steam started to fill the room.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he cut her off. Kneeling in front of her now. His hands were careful as he pushed her hair back from her face. “You’re too weak to stand. Let me.”

Lily’s chest did something stupid. “I’m not that weak.”

“You are to me right now.”

He tested the water with his hand, adjusted it, then stepped into the shower first. Held his hand out.

She took it.

The water was hot. It ran over her shoulders and down her back and Matteo’s hands followed. Gentle. Washing her like she was something breakable. Something precious.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t make it s****l. His focus was entirely on her. Shampoo in her hair, fingers massaging her scalp. Soap over her shoulders, down her arms. He avoided looking at her directly, but his jaw was tight like he was holding himself together by a thread.

“You’re trembling,” he said quietly.

“It’s the water.”

“It’s not.”

Lily looked at him. Water running down his face. Shirt soaked and clinging. “Why are you doing this?”

Matteo’s hands stilled on her back. “Because last night you had to sit at my father’s table and lie for me. Because you’re carrying something that isn’t even real, and I put you in that position.” His voice dropped. “Because I want to take care of you. Even when you don’t ask.”

The words hit harder than anything he’d done in the bedroom.

Lily reached up and touched his face. “I’m not breakable, Matteo.”

“I know,” he said. “But I’m still gonna hold you like you are.”

He rinsed her hair. Wrapped her in a towel when they got out. Carried her back to bed again. This time he climbed in with her and pulled the covers over both of them.

His arm went around her waist. His face in her neck.

“Sleep,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

Lily did. For the first time in weeks, she slept without dreaming.

---

*Morning*

Sunlight cut across the bed at 8am.

Lily woke to warmth and weight. Matteo was still holding her. One hand splayed over her stomach, protective even in sleep.

She shifted and he was awake instantly.

“Morning,” he said.

“Morning.” Her voice was hoarse.

“How do you feel?”

“Sore. Tired. Hungry.”

Matteo’s mouth quirked. “I can fix two of those.”

He made her breakfast. Brought it to her in bed. Toast. Eggs. Coffee exactly how she liked it. He sat on the edge and watched her eat like it was the most important thing he’d done all week.

“My father called,” he said after a while. “Brunch. Sunday. 11am.”

Lily’s stomach dropped. “The whole family?”

“Yeah.”

She set her fork down. “They’re going to know. Something changed.”

Matteo reached over and took her hand. Laced their fingers together. “Then we let them think whatever they want. As long as we know the truth.”

“And what’s the truth?”

He looked at her. Really looked. “That you’re mine. Contract or not.”

Lily didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

Instead she leaned forward and kissed him. Soft this time. Grateful.

When she pulled back, Matteo’s thumb was brushing over her knuckles.

“One year,” he said. “We can do one year.”

“And after?”

“I don’t know.” Honest again. “But I’m not thinking about after right now.”

Lily nodded. Outside the window, Manhattan kept going. Inside, for a few more hours, it was just them.

---