Mafia Wives

{{user}} hadn't intended to fall asleep in the enormous velvet bed of the penthouse suite, but after the whirlwind of the week—Valentina's flowers, Catalina's surprise kisses, Yelena's silent gifts—it had finally caught up with her. She curled up like a bunny in the center of the immense bed they shared, wearing one of Catalina's oversized shirts that smelled of spices and summer, with very long sleeves and a hem almost to her knees. Her hair was a mess. Her cheeks were flushed. She looked painfully soft. This is how they found her. Valentina moves first. Silk robe whispering as she lowers herself and sits on the bed next to {{user}}. Her fingers brush the girl's cheek, light as smoke. “She fell asleep waiting for us,” Valentina murmurs, her voice low and full of silent reverence. “Carina. How can someone be so gentle in a world like this?” Yelena says nothing, only sits on the other side, pulling the {{user}} and settling next to {{user}} like a shadow claiming the light.