MAFIA KINGS: ADRIANO

DARK MAFIA ROMANCE SERIES #2

OLIVIA THORN

WWW.OLIVIATHORN.COM

Copyright © 2023 by Olivia Thorn.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

CONTENTS

Also By Olivia Thorn

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84

Chapter 85

Chapter 86

Chapter 87

Chapter 88

Chapter 89

Chapter 90

Chapter 91

Chapter 92

Chapter 93

Chapter 94

Chapter 95

Chapter 96

Chapter 97

Chapter 98

Chapter 99

Chapter 100

Chapter 101

About the Author

Also By Olivia Thorn

ALSO BY OLIVIA THORN

Mafia Kings: Dario

Mafia Kings: Adriano

Mafia Kings: Massimo (coming soon)

***

AS OLIVIA THORNE

Billionaire Romance

All That He Wants (Volume 1)

All That He Loves (Volume 2)

The Billionaire’s Wedding (Volume 3)

***

The Billionaire’s Kiss (Parts 1-4)

The Billionaire’s Obsession (Part 5)

***

Motorcycle Romance

Midnight Desire (Part 1)

Midnight Lust (Part 2)

Midnight Deceit (Part 3)

Midnight Obsession (Part 4)

Rockstar Romance

(Careful - cheating in Part 3, Why Choose, HFN ending)

Rock Me Hard (Part 1)

Rock All Night (Part 2)

Hard As Rock (Part 3)

1

Bianca

Fuck the mafia.

I live in Florence, Italy, and they’ve been a part of my life as far back as I can remember.

A shadowy threat around every corner since I was a child.

You see, my father’s a gambler – and he’s bad at it.

Which means he borrows money he can’t repay… and then loses it on stupid bets.

I want to hate him for it – for all the pain he’s put me and my mother through –

But he’s my dad.

And he’s a sweetheart when he’s not making us miserable.

It’s an addiction for him, the same as if he were an alcoholic or a drug addict. A sickness.

He’s tried to stop – he really has. He’s gone to those meetings, the ones like Alcoholics Anonymous, for years.

But every so often, he relapses.

I know he’s deeply ashamed when he messes up…

Because it always ends up hurting me and my mother.

So I don’t hate him.

I’m ANGRY at him a lot… but I don’t hate him.

Guess who I do hate?

The assholes who keep loaning him money for his stupid bets…

And then come knocking on the door when he can’t pay them off.

See, my father works for the judicial system in Florence.

He’s not a judge or a lawyer – just a low-level worker in the bureaucracy.

Officially, anyway.

But he’s also a ‘go-between’ for the Cosa Nostra – the ones who really run Florence behind the scenes.

My father is the one who deals with the judges and prosecutors who are on the take.

He’s the one who makes sure the District Attorney’s office knows when they’re supposed to throw a case…

And he lets the judges know when they’re supposed to give unfair advantages to the defense.

My father not only delivers the money, he also looks for new recruits.

He knows all the gossip and where all the bodies are buried.

He knows who’s gotten divorced recently and needs money…

He knows who has a drug problem…

He knows who has a mistress with expensive tastes…

And he knows who has a problem that the mafia could make go away. All it would require would be a little ‘favor.’

He’s the man the mafia relies on to make their corruption work.

I know this makes my father sound like a monster…

But he’s not.

He hates what he does for them.

He’s tried to get out time and again…

But like I said, he’s an addict.

The gangsters know that, and they take advantage of it.

That’s how the whole system works.

Yes, half of the judges and lawyers on the take are greedy bastards –

But the other half are people who are in despair. Who make bad mistakes. Who start down self-destructive paths. Who dig holes for themselves that they can’t get out of.

They’re desperate.

Desperate people are vulnerable.

And the mafia is always there to lend a helping hand… for a ‘favor.’

But once you shake hands with the devil…

He owns you.

I know, because they own my father.

They use both a carrot and a stick.

The carrot is the money they lend him to gamble. They feed his addiction, like a casino that gives a customer an endless line of credit.

The stick is when they threaten him… and worse.

Over the years, he’s had his legs broken twice.

They snapped his right arm three times.

They’ve broken his fingers more often than he can remember.

They kept breaking his bones…

Until they broke him.

The mafia got him under their thumb decades ago.

Now it’s not just the debts they hold over his head – but threats against me and my mother.

So Papa always does what they tell him to…

And he despairs.

He’ll try to stay away from gambling, and he’ll do great for months at a time…

But then he’ll give in just a little to the demons inside him and place a bet…

Then another… and another…

And just like that, the Cosa Nostra’s grip on him tightens.

He despises himself for it.

He’s a broken and defeated man.

And that’s why I hate the mafia.

I always have. I always will.

Which is why it kills me…

Absolutely destroys me…

…that I fell in love with a mafioso.

2

I go to the Istituto Marangoni in Florence for fashion design.

I love clothes. I love beauty and elegance, yes…

But even more than that, I love the idea that you can actually wear art – because clothes are a statement of who you are and how you see the world.

I’ve dreamed of working for a fashion house since I was little.

Gucci… Balenciaga… Versace… Dolce and Gabbana…

But I want to inject a little ‘punk rock’ into it.

I want to make it less about money and status and more about creating something amazing that anyone can wear and feel beautiful.

If I’m being honest, I’d love to create my own brand someday. To be a designer in my own right.

But that’s a ways off.

I’m 22, and I can only go to school part-time.

It’s expensive. Not only do I have to pay for the tuition on my own, plus my rent and food and everything else…

But every so often, I have to help Mama out when Papa does something stupid and gets himself in a jam.

One of those things happened just the other day…

And it changed the course of my entire life.

3

It was a Friday afternoon. I’d finished up classes for the day, and I had a dozen things I had to do over the weekend:

A whole bunch of sketches for my design class…

A photoshoot for my roommate Emma, who’s in the same fashion program as me…

Not to mention my waitressing job. I had an eight-hour shift on Sunday.

But I hadn’t seen my parents in over a week. I wanted to check in on them, so I took the bus to their apartment on the outskirts of the city.

Florence is one of the most beautiful cities in the world. At least the old part of the city is – the section built in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance.

There are also modern neighborhoods that sprang up like mushrooms after World War II.

Some of them are nice…

And some of them are ugly and depressing.

My parents have an apartment in the ugly and depressing part.

They could have afforded a lot nicer place if my dad hadn’t lost so much money to gambling over the years…

And if he didn’t have to repay so much to the mafia.

As soon as I got off the bus and saw the fancy black Audi sitting outside their apartment, I knew something was wrong.

In that part of town, only the mafia drove expensive cars…

And when I saw one parked in front of my parents’ apartment, my stomach sank.

I thought about turning around and just going back to my own apartment –

But I couldn’t. I had to make sure they were okay.

I punched in the code to unlock the lobby door and climbed the stairs to the fourth floor.

I had a key to my parents’ apartment…

But I didn’t want to surprise anybody inside – like a gangster with a gun – so I knocked.

There was a moment’s pause. Then my mother’s voice said, “I can’t come to the door.”

“Mama, it’s me.”

There was another long pause…

And then the door opened as the hinges creaked loudly.

But it wasn’t my mother who answered.

It was Sergio Pasquarelli, one of the assholes who worked for the Agrellas – the family who ran Florence.

Sergio was about 40 years old with a meaty face and a stocky build. He always wore a cheap brown suit, and he was always sweating. Today wasn’t any different.

Of all the gangsters I’d met over the years, I hated Sergio the most. He was always leering at me and making inappropriate jokes.

Not to mention he liked to act friendly – then turn on a dime, become a raging psychopath, and threaten to bust my father’s kneecaps with a lead pipe.

Sergio had been the one hassling my father for the last six years.

Either the Agrellas liked to keep things consistent, and that’s why they kept sending him to harass my family…

Or he was too much of an idiot to get promoted out of a shit job.

“Heyyyy, look who it is,” he said with his lecherous smile. “Sweet little Bianca. Come on in, doll.”

I brushed past him into my parents’ dingy apartment. “Mama?”

My mother was standing in the living room with a worried look on her face.

Of course, she almost always had a worried look on her face. Having to deal with all of my father’s gambling and mafia bullshit had made her go grey prematurely.

But she looked especially stressed today.

It probably had something to do with Sergio and the other two goons in cheap suits standing in her living room. They were both tall, young, and extremely ugly.

“Bianca, what are you doing here?” Mama asked in a frightened voice.

“I just came by to visit you and Dad.”

“Good!” Sergio said as he shut the door. It creaked loudly as it closed. “Maybe you can tell us where he is.”

“Probably work,” I snapped.

“Nope,” Sergio said as he pulled a toothpick out of his pocket and started chewing on it. “Fact is, he ain’t been there today. Hell, he ain’t even been home since last night.”

I looked over at Mama in alarm.

She nodded reluctantly.

This was bad.

Whenever Papa went on one of his gambling benders, he’d disappear for days at a time…

Especially when he lost money.

I turned to Sergio. “How much does he owe?”

“Nine grand.”

Shit.

I closed my eyes… steeled myself… and opened them again. “We’ll get you the money. We just need a little time.”

“We both been through this enough, princess, to know you ain’t gettin’ me the money anytime soon. Call your dad.”

“It’s only been one day – ”

“Naw, he’s been gone for a day. He lost the money two weeks ago.”

Oh shit.

Then I got angry.

That bastard!

I’d been here just last weekend, and my father had lied to my FACE! He’d said he hadn’t gambled for over ten months!

“He ain’t pickin’ up your mom’s calls, so why don’t you call him,” Sergio said with a nasty smile.

“Look… if you can just wait until Sunday, I can scrape together a couple of hundred – ”

“That ain’t good enough. Call him.”

“But – ”

“CALL HIM.”

Sergio was on the brink of going full-on psycho. I could see it in his beady little eyes.

So I pulled out my phone and hit ‘Dad’ in my contacts list.

The phone immediately went to voicemail.

He had his phone turned off, the son of a bitch.

“This is Fabrizio Lettieri… leave a message.”

“Dad, call me when you get this. IMMEDIATELY,” I snapped, then hung up.

“That’s bad,” Sergio said with a nasty smile. “That’s really, really bad.”

I looked over at Mama. She had a sickly look on her face.

“Do you have any money?” I asked her.

She shook her head no.

Dammit.

I looked over at Sergio. “Can we go out in the hallway to discuss this?”

“What, so anybody passin’ by can hear us? I don’t think so.”

“I don’t want my mother involved in this.”

“Bianca – ” Mama started.

“Mama, shh. You’ve had to put up with Papa’s bullshit long enough, and I’m sick of it.”

“So you wanna talk in private?” Sergio asked, a nasty leer on his face.

“Yeah,” I snarled.

He chuckled, then looked at his goons. “Boys, why don’t you escort Signora Lettieri back to her bedroom for a few minutes? I gotta hash out some shit with her daughter.”

“Bianca, don’t,” Mama whimpered.

“Just go in the bedroom, Mama. It’ll be fine.”

She looked at Sergio in fear, then shuffled off towards her bedroom. The two goons trailed along behind her.

As soon as she was gone, I turned to the mafioso. “What kind of bullshit are you gonna make my father do this time, huh?”

Sergio grinned. “I got no idea what you mean, doll.”

“You never lend him money unless you want something from him. What is it – one of your guys get picked up for murder?”

“I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about, sugar. Your daddy owes us some money, pure and simple.”

“Right,” I said sarcastically. “Since he’s not here and he’s not picking up his phone, what exactly do you want?”

“A blowjob would be nice.” Sergio laughed after he said it, like he thought he was clever.

“Yeah, that’s never happening.”

“Never say never, little girl.” Suddenly he got a crafty look on his face. “You really want to help your dad?”

“No, I want you assholes to break his legs again. Of course I want to help him.”

Sergio grinned. “You got a mouth on you, that’s for sure. How’d you like doin’ a little somethin’ for my bosses?”

I sighed angrily. Sergio had been trying to recruit me as a sex worker for the Agrellas from the day he first met me… when I was still 16.

Piece of shit.

“I’m not going to trick for them, so stop asking,” I snapped.

“It’s a one-time deal. Tonight at 8. You’d be entertaining a few out-of-town guests, probably just a few hours. They got a business meeting with my boss – this’d just be for drinks beforehand.”

“I’m not going to fuck anybody,” I said coldly.

“You won’t have to. You just gotta look pretty, make some conversation… and make ‘em think you’d fuck ‘em.”

“And why would I do that?” I asked in disgust.

“You do it, and I’ll give your father another month to pay up. Hell, I’ll even knock off the interest so he only owes the six grand he borrowed.”

Papa had only borrowed six thousand euros, but they’d charged him 50% interest for two weeks.

That’s mafia financing for you.

“What’s the catch?” I asked.

“No catch.”

I frowned. “You’re offering to knock three thousand off my father’s debt and give him another month to pay. There’s got to be a catch.”

“The Agrellas don’t wanna use any of our girls to do it. It’s gotta be models or somebody from outside the family’s operation, and they gotta be hot. Top shelf.”

“Why me?”

He shrugged. “You’re hot, it’s last minute, and they’re havin’ problems gettin’ hot enough girls. You want the job or not?”

I hesitated.

When the devil offers you a bargain, you should always walk away.

…IF you’ve got a choice.

“What happens if I say ‘no’?”

Sergio gave me an incredibly unpleasant smile. “Let’s just say I might have to take a down payment from your mother. Might let my boys have a crack at her, too.”

Piece of shit scum of the earth motherfucker –

“Alright,” I hissed. “Where do I go?”

Sergio pulled out a business card from his suit jacket and handed it to me.

It was silver with words embossed in black:

Agenzia di Modelle Fiorentina

Florence Modelling Agency, basically.

There was an address and a telephone number.

“Go there,” Sergio said, “and they’ll set you up.”

“That’s all the way across town. It’s 4 PM now, and you said the thing’s at 8 – ”

“Okay, I’ll drop you off. We can go right now… and leave your mother in peace,” he said with a suggestive smile.

I glared at him…

But I didn’t have much of a choice.

Not if I wanted to buy my father some time…

And make sure my mother wasn’t touched by these assholes.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go.”

4

I accepted a ride in Sergio’s Audi so I could get to the modeling agency on time.

His thugs drove and sat in the front seat, which put me in the back with the slimy mafioso.

He kept making comments about my ‘rack’ and how he bet I was good in bed.

It made my skin crawl, but I endured it and didn’t say a thing.

No matter what, I had to buy my dad more time.

I kept checking my phone, but no word from my father.

After 20 minutes, we finally arrived at a building on the edge of old Florence.

The exterior was ancient, but the insides had been redone with modern décor – including an elevator.

Sergio left his goons in the car and took me up to the 4th floor. There were a lot of offices up there, but one in particular had glass doors that let you see the lobby inside.

Everything in the lobby was white. Furniture, carpet, chairs – white and shades of cream.

An attractive middle-aged woman was sitting at the front desk. Her dark blue suit jacket was the only spot of color in the room.

Behind her was a wall with Agenzia di Modelle Fiorentina in 12-inch silver letters. Over to the right was a white door.

Sergio took me inside and told the receptionist, “Tell ‘em I got a girl for the 8 o’clock thing.”

“I’m not a girl, I’m a woman,” I snapped.

“Yes you are,” Sergio said with one of his lecherous smiles.

I just rolled my eyes in disgust.

The receptionist made a call (on her white phone, naturally).

Thirty seconds later, an elegant woman in a fashionable business suit opened the door.

“This is her?” she asked as she looked me over.

She was eyeballing me like a butcher would a cut of meat.

“Yup,” Sergio replied. “We worked somethin’ out, so don’t worry about payin’ her. And make sure the boss knows I’m the one who got her for him.”

“Of course,” the woman said curtly, then motioned to me. “Come with me.”

As I walked past him, Sergio leered at me one last time. “Have a good time tonight. And tell your dad he better call me.”

I didn’t bother answering him as I followed the woman through the door.

The area behind the lobby was a maze of hallways. The woman stopped at a door, knocked, and stuck her head in.

“I’ve got a third girl for tonight. One of your guys brought her in just now. She’s right behind me.”

The She’s right behind me part seemed a little suspicious…

Sort of like, Don’t say anything you don’t want her to hear.

A male voice answered. It was wheezy and phlegmy and muffled by the door. I couldn’t see him, but I imagined a 400-pound man with triple chins.

“Good, good. Get her ready.”

As the woman closed the door, I glimpsed a man inside the office. He was sitting in a visitor’s chair by a desk. Above him was a stylized Art Deco poster hanging on the wall.

He hadn’t been the one speaking. Because he was right there in front of the door, his voice would have been clear.

Not only that, but the wheezy, phlegmy voice didn’t match him at all.

He was young, maybe 25 – thin and in good shape.

He wore an expensive suit that had been beautifully tailored. A gorgeous silk tie and pocket square completed the ensemble.

He was clean-shaven with short hair. He was definitely handsome –

But his expression was cold and arrogant.

I don’t think he saw me as the door closed, and I was glad he didn’t…

Because he had the cruelest eyes I had ever seen.

I wasn’t sure how I would have reacted if they had stared right at me.

5

The elegant woman was not one for small talk. She said nothing as she led me down the maze of hallways.

We finally entered a small studio with high ceilings. It was set up with photographic backdrops and professional lights for photo shoots.

Off to the side were a dozen metal racks filled with hundreds of outfits.

Along the wall were three makeup stations: vanity mirrors with canvas director’s chairs in front of them.

Only one person was in the studio – a guy in a hot pink dress shirt and skinny black jeans. His hair was perfectly coifed, and I was pretty sure he was wearing eyeliner. He sat in one of the canvas chairs and scrolled through his phone with a bored look on his face.

“Luca,” the fashionable woman snapped. “Get her ready for tonight.”

The guy looked up and his face brightened.

“Oooh,” he said in a feminine voice, “not bad. What’s the vibe – slutty or high society?”

“Top-dollar escort,” the woman said as she headed for the exit.

“Hold on!” I yelled.

The woman turned back to me with a furious expression. “What?”

The gay guy – I was 99.9% sure he was gay – got an amused look on his face. SOMEBODY’S about to get in trouble!

“I’m not having sex with anybody,” I snapped. “I already told Sergio that.”

“Then don’t – but you still have to look the part.” She glared at Luca. “Have her ready by 7.”

And with that, she turned and walked out.

“Damn, girl, you need to be careful who you piss off,” Luca said with a chuckle. Then he lowered his voice to a whisper. “That bitch’ll bite your head off.”

“Well, it’s still on my shoulders,” I muttered. “What do we do?”

“Let’s start with the clothes first,” he said as he led me over to the racks of clothing. “What dress size are you?”

“A 44,” I said, which was the equivalent of a size 8 in America.

Luca raised one eyebrow as he looked me up and down. “…really…?”

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Whateverrrrrr,” he said as he turned to the racks. “We’ll see. The clothes tell no lies.”

He pulled out a strappy black leather dress that would have barely covered my upper thighs. “What about this?”

“It looks like something a dominatrix would wear.”

“I know, right? It’s hot. We’ll get you some thigh-high boots, some – ”

“NO.”

He huffed as he put it back on the rack. “Fine. What about this?”

It was a patterned floral print in silk.

“I’m not a grandma,” I said indignantly.

Luca snorted with glee as he put the dress back on the rack. “That was a test. You passed.”

He went down the line, pulling out an assortment of dresses, none of which I liked.

“You’ve gotta choose something, girl,” he admonished me – then said in a playfully threatening voice, “Don’t make me call Mom.”

I assumed he meant the bitchy woman who’d brought me in here.

I pulled something out myself. “What about this?”

“Martina said high-class escort, not Met Gala,” he snarked.

“…this?” I asked as I picked out another one.

“Too much ‘I’m going to meet the parents’ and not enough ‘I bang on the first date.’”

“What about this?”

“OH my god no.”

“…how about this one?”

“That is so last season.”

“Yeah, but – ”

“NO. Next.”

I picked out a series of dresses, all of which he vetoed.

I sighed.

“It would seem we’re at an impasse,” he said theatrically.

I looked past the clothing racks at the wall behind it –

And saw shelves filled with mannequin heads wearing wigs.

One in particular caught my eye: a short bob with an asymmetrical cut…

…and it was metallic blue.

So punk rock.

I walked over to it, immediately enthralled.

“OH no,” Luca said in a panicked voice. “No way.”

“But it’s great!”

“Yes it is, but Martina’ll turn me into a castrato if I let you wear that.”

“Why?”

“Cuz the guys who’re gonna be at this thing aren’t into that sort of stuff.”

I looked over at him. “What guys?”

He rolled his eyes and flapped one hand dismissively. “You know.”

“No, I don’t.”

He looked annoyed. “Are you gonna make me say it?”

“Yes.”

Luca sighed heavily, like he was the most put-upon person ever to walk the earth. “Mafia guys – some assholes out of the boondocks in Tuscany. Probably a bunch of fat old men with mustaches. ‘Vito, Salvatore’ – that sort of shit.”

“And you don’t think they’ll want to sleep with me if I wear this wig?”

“I know they won’t want to sleep with you if you wear that wig.”

“Then I’m definitely wearing it,” I said in a determined voice.

“Oh my god,” he whispered as he put his hand to his forehead like he had a migraine.

“I’ll wear the dominatrix dress if you let me have the wig,” I offered.

He looked up in surprise.

“…and the thigh-highs?” he asked hopefully.

“…and the thigh-highs,” I relented.

He squealed like a 12-year-old girl who’d just gotten Taylor Swift tickets.

“Ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod – girl, I am going to make you look AMAZING.”

“Not too amazing,” I warned him as I pulled the blue wig off the mannequin’s head.

6

Adriano

Fuck the Agrellas.

The whole thing started when my father died a few months ago, and my older brother Dario became don of the Rosolini family.

A spy from another Cosa Nostra family had been nosing around our territory, so Dario put a hit out on him.

Our family’s enforcer Lars had taken care of the spy, but he hadn’t had the heart to kill the only witness: a waitress named Alessandra.

Dario had kidnapped her to find out why the spy had been in her café that night…

…but then my brother had fallen in love.

Now Dario and Alessandra were married.

Which I was happy about. I couldn’t’ve asked for a better sister-in-law.

But before the wedding, there had been an attempted hit on Alessandra and my brothers Massimo and Valentino while they were in Florence. That had been a month ago.

The hit was actually carried out by some pezzi di merda working for a guy named the Turk…

But it couldn’t have happened without the Agrellas’ permission.

They were a Cosa Nostra family who ran the back alleys of Florence, while my family controlled the judges, cops, and politicians in City Hall.

It was an uneasy alliance, but we’d made it work for 20 years.

And now the Agrellas had flushed it down the toilet.

They’d thrown their lot in with the Turk, thinking they could seize all of Florence after our family got slaughtered.

Think again, assholes.

We’d already killed the Turk.

The Agrellas were next, as far as I was concerned.

But now that they’d shot themselves in the dick, the Agrellas were whining like little bitches.

We didn’t know about the hit! We didn’t give our permission – please oh please can’t we just TALK about it?

I would’ve loved to have shoved a gun in all their mouths and have them talk to that –

But Dario didn’t want war.

After my father’s death, our family was weakened.

We’d split our territory with Uncle Fausto, who had been our father’s consigliere and right-hand man for 25 years…

And we’d just survived an attempt to wipe out our entire organization.

Me? I was all for going in guns blazing and wiping the Agrellas out –

But Dario was the don.

So his word was my command.

As the newly appointed capo of the Rosolini family in Florence, I had a mission:

Talk with the Agrellas…

Try to maintain the peace…

And not start a war in Florence unless absolutely necessary.

Even though they’d violated a 20-year-old truce and given their blessing for a psychopath to try to kill my brothers and sister-in-law.

So, yeah.

Fuck the Agrellas.

7

‘Talking to the Agrellas’ was why I was in the backseat of a Mercedes on a Friday night, headed for some bullshit meeting where I knew they’d lie to my face.

And probably try to pick my pocket while they were at it.

Lars and Massimo were in the car with me. Massimo rode up front, Lars in the back with me. A foot soldier named Vincenzo was driving.

In fact, I had two other Mercedes driving with us to the meeting – both filled with guys who worked for our family in Tuscany.

They were mostly coming as a show of force. Just in case the Agrellas started getting any ideas.

Fuck around and find out, assholes.

“You okay?” Massimo asked. He was looking at me in the mirror of his flipped-down sun visor.

Massimo was a giant – so huge that his 6’7” frame was cramped even with the seat let all the way back.

“Yeah, of course,” I answered.

“You got this, bro.”

“I know I got this,” I snapped.

Massimo held his tongue and flipped the sun visor back up.

I knew he was only trying to help, but the truth was…

I didn’t feel like I got this.

I felt super fuckin’ nervous…

And I hated it.

I was the official head of the Rosolinis in Florence, and this was the first time I was acting as capo while meeting with another family.

A lot was riding on tonight.

If I got it right, things would go back to the way they were when my father was still alive: peace and profits for everybody.

If I screwed up…

War.

Although personally I was kind of hoping for war.

Which should have taken the pressure off…

But it didn’t.

‘Cause I knew if I failed Dario and the rest of the family, it was all on my head.

“What’s the plan?” Lars asked.

Lars was a Swede who’d been in jail with Dario – and had saved his life a couple of times. When he got out of jail earlier than Dario, my brother told the family to give him a job. That’d been one of the best decisions Dario had ever made.

Lars had some kind of crazy background in Special Ops in the military in Sweden. He was the best I’d ever seen with a pistol and even deadlier with a sniper rifle.

When Dario had sent him with me to reestablish control in Florence, I’d breathed a sigh of relief. If shit hit the fan, Lars was the guy you wanted watching your back.

“The plan is to go in, listen to their spiel, and let bygones be bygones.”

“That’s Dario’s plan,” Lars said. “What’s your plan?”

I looked over at Lars. “You sayin’ I’m not gonna follow my don’s orders?”

Lars smirked. “I’m saying I know you. So what’s the plan?”

“Go in… listen to their spiel… and if they drop their shorts and bend over, let bygones be bygones. But if they’re assholes, then we tell them to go fuck themselves.”

Lars chuckled. “That sounds more like an Adriano plan.”

Massimo wasn’t on board. “Brother – ”

“Don’t even start with me, Mass. YOU should be the one who wants to make them pay the most. I mean, they were the reason you got shot.”

It was true; Massimo had taken a bullet trying to protect Alessandra in the shootout.

“Exactly,” he said. “I’M the one who got shot, and I still think it’s better if we do everything we can to maintain the peace.”

What I wanted to say was FUCK the peace.

But I was a capo, not the don.

So all I said was, “Yeah, yeah…”

The Mercedes slowed down.

“We’re here, boss,” Vincenzo said.

8

Our cars pulled up to a building in the old section of Florence.

Back in the day, it had probably been a palace of some sort. Now it had been converted into a five-star hotel.

There was a circular drive in front of the building. A couple of valets and bellboys were waiting around – but they seemed nervous because of the six goons in dark suits standing next to them.

“This is it,” I said to Lars and Massimo. “Let’s go. Vincenzo, stay with the car.”

“You got it, boss.”

Lars, Massimo, and I got out – along with six guys from the other two Mercedes. Altogether there were nine of us as we strolled over to the Agrellas’ henchmen.

“Signor Rosolini,” one of the suits said, then moved to frisk me.

“I’ll save you some time. I got a Glock in the back of my pants, and all my friends are packin’. But you even touch me, you’re gonna draw back a bloody stump.”

The guy got a worried look on his face. He was a low-level stooge and I was a capo; he knew better than to mess with me.

But he tried anyway.

“I got orders,” he said.

“Yeah? Well, here’s your new orders: fuck off.”

I started to walk past him –

And he put a hand on my shoulder.

I slapped it off and got up in his face. “WHAT the fuck did you just do?”

Lars, Massimo, and my men all tensed.

The Agrellas’ goons all looked like they were about to shit a brick.

Suddenly the front door of the hotel opened and somebody new came hustling out:

Carmine Agrella.

Forty-five, paunchy, and greying, he was one of the Agrellas’ capos – and the brother of Dominic Agrella, the don of the family.

I’d met Carmine several times over the years. He was a grinning, backslapping idiot in a $5000 suit.

I didn’t trust him any farther than I could throw him.

“Adriano!” he said with a big smile and his arms thrown out in the air, like we were old pals. “So good to see you!”

I wanted to say Yeah? Almost as good as when you let those assholes try to kill my family?

But I held my tongue.

“Carmine,” I said.

“Welcome to you all!” he said to my crew.

“Thanks,” I said sardonically. “Now if you’ll just lead the way, we can go inside and get things started.”

Carmine winced like he was really, really sorry about what he was going to say next.

“Ah – we have to insist: no guns in the meeting.”

“Yeah, fuck that,” I snapped. “We’re not handing anything over – not to you, not to your boys, not to nobody.”

Carmine winced some more. “I apologize – I really do – but I must insist.”

“Yeah? You ‘must insist’? Well after what happened to HIM – ”

I pointed at Massimo.

“ – and my brother Valentino and my sister Alessandra last month, on YOUR territory, I must insist that you go FUCK yourselves in the ass. We’re here as a courtesy to YOU, not the other way around. So if you want us to hand over our guns – have a nice night, we’ll be on our way. Come on,” I said to my guys as I turned back to the car.

“Signore,” Carmine pleaded.

“Say hi to Don Agrella for me,” I snapped as one of my foot soldiers opened the rear door of the Mercedes. “Tell him my brother sends his regards.”

“You know what?” Carmine said in a conciliatory voice. “It’s fine. Come on in. Keep your guns. You’re our guests. That’s what’s important.”

Aha – there it was.

I’d been expecting him to fold, and he had.

Before I could say anything, though, Carmine added a caveat.

“Although if we make this concession… it would have to be just you and your brother. Your men would have to stay outside.”

I weighed that for a split second.

My foot soldiers weren’t gonna be in such a high-level meeting anyway, so…

“Lars, too,” I said as I pointed at him.

Carmine smiled like we were all one big happy family. “Absolutely.”

“Alright, then.” I stepped away from the Mercedes. “Everybody but Lars and Massimo, stay here with the cars.”

Carmine beamed and swept his arm towards the hotel. “Right this way!”

I followed behind him with Massimo on my right and Lars on my left.

“Nicely played,” Lars said under his breath so only I could hear it.

“High risk, high reward, right?” I muttered back as we entered the lobby of the hotel.

9

Bianca

I nervously checked my phone for the 200th time.

It was almost 8 o’clock, and I still hadn’t heard from my father.

I sighed as I sent another text: CALL ME.

Suddenly a man’s voice snapped, “You can’t have that in here.”

I looked behind me to see one of the Agrellas’ men. He was a thug like all the others, but he wore a more expensive suit.

“Alright, fine, I’ll put it away.”

“Turn it OFF and put it away,” he snarled.

“FINE.”

I powered down my phone and looked for a place to stash it.

We were in a gorgeous hotel suite on the third floor. From the outside, the building looked like an ancient palace owned by the Medicis or some other Renaissance family.

On the inside, though, it was modern and luxurious to the point of obscenity –

Including the pile of cocaine on the mirrored coffee table in the middle of the room.

Another girl was already snorting a line with a rolled-up 100-euro bill.

One of the perks of the gig, I guess – if you were into that sort of thing.

I wasn’t.

I just wanted to get in, get out, and buy my father some time.

I decided to stow my phone in the master bedroom off the main suite.

As I walked past the girl doing the blow, she gave me some side-eye.

Bitch, I thought as I strolled past her.

Although I could understand why she wasn’t exactly friendly.

She looked like a supermodel in a glamorous little black dress.

With my blue wig and leather outfit, I looked like I’d walked in from a futuristic BDSM club.

I had to admit, the leather outfit was sexy… and the thigh-high boots were smokin’ hot.

Maybe that’s why the supermodel was pissed – because the mafia thugs were definitely paying more attention to me than to her.

Although the wig was working as desired. Several of the mafiosos had stared at my chest, then looked up at my face –

But as soon as they saw my hair, their eyes had gone blank.

Total loss of interest.

Score one for the blue hair.

I went into the master bedroom and put my phone down on a bedside table.

Suddenly the bathroom door opened, and the third woman came out and smiled at me.

She was absolutely stunning. She looked Russian or Ukrainian and had the most beautiful honey-blonde hair I’d ever seen.

Plus she was a lot friendlier than the skank doing rails in the other room.

“Are you needing the bathroom?” she asked in broken Italian and a heavy Slavic accent.

“No, I’m good,” I said.

She smiled and looked towards the main room nervously.

“You okay?” I asked.

“This is my first time doing such a thing as this,” she admitted.

“Same here.”

She put out a hand. “Oksana.”

I hesitated, then shook her hand. “Bianca.”

“Nice to be meeting you!” she said cheerfully.

I couldn’t work up quite as much enthusiasm, given that I really didn’t want to be there, but I smiled anyway. “You, too.”

Suddenly another mafia thug poked his head into the room and barked, “They’re comin’ – get out here!”

As soon as he disappeared, I muttered, “Asshole…”

“Yes, right?” Oksana said with a smile – but she tottered off obediently in her four-inch stilettos.

Griping silently, I followed along behind her.

As soon as we got into the main room, the front door opened. A talkative guy in his forties and an expensive suit entered.

“ – and we’re so sorry about all that unpleasantness last month. You have to believe me – we didn’t know about any of it.”

He was immediately followed by three much younger guys – all of them dressed in stylish designer suits, all of them handsome.

One was blond with piercing blue eyes and a short beard. He looked Swedish.

The second was gigantic – a huge guy, at least six and a half feet tall, with broad shoulders and a massive build. He was definitely Italian, with dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard.

But it was the third man who really caught my attention.

He was around 6’2” with piercing eyes and three days’ worth of scruff.

His hair was black, his skin olive.

He wore a scowl, which directly contrasted with the two other guys’ placid expressions.

He also exuded this vibe, like he was a coiled-up ball of energy – like he could go off at any second. Totally unpredictable.

But it was his suit that really got me. It was the flashiest – a dark grey sharkskin suit by Prada with a midnight blue silk shirt open at the collar.

On somebody else it might have looked gaudy, but he pulled it off.

The impeccable tailoring and thousand-dollar shoes certainly helped.

He definitely stood out from all the other men in the room with their black and navy suits.

Not quite punk rock, but… daring. Unconventional.

His eyes darted around the room like he was taking everything in –

And then they stopped on me.

Our eyes met, and there was this almost electric click.

I stopped breathing.

There was a second that felt like it lasted ten times longer –

And then everything went to shit.

He turned angrily to the chatty older guy and snarled, “You brought whores to our meeting?!”

It was obvious he was referring to me.

I was the only woman in the room he’d looked at for more than a split second.

I immediately bristled. My entire body tensed.

ASSHOLE –

“Whaaaat?!” the chatty guy said, like he couldn’t believe such a thing could even been suggested. “No – no, no, no, no, no – just some beautiful ladies, some companionship for the gentlemen – ”

“And this – what the fuck is this?” the asshole snarled as he pointed at the mirrored table with the pile of coke.

The girl who’d snorted some earlier suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

The older guy stammered, “Well, it’s just – we wanted to offer every concession – ”

“This is a business meeting, not a fuckin’ whorehouse!” the asshole barked.

“Of course, of course – we’ll have it removed immediately.”

The older guy clicked his fingers, and a couple of the gorillas moved the coffee table into one of the smaller side rooms.

The coke-snorting girl looked very unhappy.

“May I offer you a drink?” the chatty guy asked.

“I’ll pour it myself,” the Angry Asshole said as he walked over to the bar.

I noticed he picked out a bottle of scotch that probably cost north of $5000.

“Please, make yourself at home,” Chatty Man said with a smile. “Don Agrella will be here in 20 minutes.”

Angry Asshole looked back at him with an expression both enraged and incredulous. “He’s not here?!”

“He was unavoidably detained,” Chatty Man said in a sad What can you do? kind of voice.

“Wonderful,” the Angry Asshole seethed, then pointed at all the thugs standing around. “Get these other guys out of here.”

“Of course,” Chatty Man said. He motioned to all his minions, who filed out of the room.

Then Chatty Man looked at me and the other girls and jerked his head like Get over there and TALK to them!

Cocaine Girl moved first and walked over to the Swede.

Oksana nervously approached the giant.

Which left the Angry Asshole for me.

I sighed inwardly.

Great.

But if I was going to buy my father some time and knock a third off his debt, I had a job to do.

10

I walked over to the Angry Asshole as he was sipping his scotch.

“What’s your name?” I asked in the friendliest voice I could muster.

He didn’t even look at me – he just turned away like he couldn’t be bothered. “I’m not interested.”

Okay, screw the friendly voice.

“That makes two of us,” I said coldly. “But would it kill you to tell me your name?”

That got his attention.

He looked over at me with a mixture of surprise and anger –

And maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit of respect.

“Adriano,” he said.

Nice name.

Still an asshole, though.

“Bianca,” I replied.

He looked me up and down. “Women like you are usually better mannered. Or at least pretend to be.”

“And what type of women are those?” I snapped.

“Whores,” he said contemptuously.

At least he stared me straight in the eyes when he said it.

“Well, I’m not a whore, so I guess I don’t have to pretend,” I said with real venom in my voice.

“If you’re not a whore, why are you here?”

“Do you really have to ask that question?”

“Since I have no idea – yeah, I guess I do.”

“Because I’m being paid.” I wanted to add asshole to the end of the sentence, but I figured that might be pushing it.

“For what? To annoy me?” His tone of voice indicated he thought that last line was amusing.

“What are YOU here for, then?”

My tone of voice was almost a dare.

Like, ADMIT you’re a mafioso.

He glanced over at the Chatty Guy. There was a dark edge to Adriano’s voice when he answered, “To settle some scores.”

“I thought your type did that with guns.”

I couldn’t help myself – he was such a prick.

My answer surprised him, and he looked at me coldly. “And what type is that?”

I figured I might have gone a little too far.

“People in your line of business.”

He narrowed his eyes. “And what line of business is that?”

If he wasn’t going to say his job out loud, I sure as hell wasn’t.

“The kind that settles scores with guns,” I said coolly.

He smirked like we had an in-joke between us. “Hm.” Then he gave me another glance from head to toe. “You’re an odd choice for this sort of thing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, offended.

I figured he was saying I wasn’t pretty enough.

Normally I didn’t give a damn what men thought of me –

But, I have to admit, the ‘odd choice’ part stung.

He might have been an asshole…

…but he was hot.

And it’s never fun to hear a hot guy tear down your appearance.

However, he hadn’t meant what I thought he had.

“If the Agrellas are looking to butter me up, they should’ve gotten somebody better at this part of the job.”

“And what job is that?”

Adriano half-smiled, half-sneered. “Do you really have to ask that question?”

“I told you, I’m not a whore.”

“What are you, then?”

It was obvious he didn’t believe me.

Screw him.

“Somebody who just got tired of this conversation,” I said.

I turned and started to walk off –

When he grabbed my arm.

OH no.

I whirled around and jerked my arm away. “Let GO of me!”

He might have been an asshole –

But he did let go when I told him to.

Before I could turn and leave again, he asked, “You’re here for the money – right?”

“Aren’t you?”

He smirked. “No, to settle a score. Keep up.”

Asshole.

“Uh-huh,” I said sarcastically. “And this score you’re going to settle – it has nothing to do with business, or money, or whatever it is you do for a job – right?”

“Alright, so we’re both here for the money. How’d you like a little bonus?”

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“Good, I don’t want to catch anything.”

That was it.

I was done.

I turned away again –

And, as expected, he grabbed me again.

“Let GO!” I hissed.

But this time he didn’t. “Hold on – ”

Suddenly the Chatty Man was rushing over to my side. “Hey – hey – ”

I thought for a second that he might be trying to rescue me from the asshole.

I guess I forgot how the world worked.

How the world of men worked, anyway.

“What’s your problem?!” the Chatty Man snarled as he looked at me furiously.

I was taken aback and stopped struggling –

“No problem,” Adriano said – except he spoke in a totally calm voice. It was more like he was brushing off the older man. Why would you think there’s a problem?

But Chatty Man wasn’t to be deterred. “You want me to throw her out, Signore?”

“No.” A pause… and then Adriano smirked. “I like it rough.”

The Chatty Man apparently didn’t know what to make of that, and he withdrew a few seconds later.

I looked at Adriano in surprise.

He stared me right in the eyes and said, “Answer a few questions and I’ll give you a tip. No sex required.”

I narrowed my eyes. “…how much of a tip?” I asked distrustfully.

“How does 300 euros sound?”

Actually, it sounded pretty damn good.

But I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of showing any excitement.

“…what do you want to know.”

“Are you one of the Agrellas’ girls?”

I could feel my temper getting hotter. “I’m assuming you mean a prostitute.”

“Yes.”

“NO. I’m NOT.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

I wondered if I should tell him the truth –

Screw it.

Why not.

I’d never see him again after tonight.

“My father owes them money.”

Adriano looked slightly confused. “So he whored you out?”

I had to hold myself back from punching him.

“I swear to God, you make another crack like that, I’ll slap your goddamn face.”

To my surprise, he smiled slightly. “I’ll remember that for when I wanna get slapped.” Then he grew serious. “Why’d your father send you here, then?”

“He didn’t. I can’t reach him, and they’re gonna break his legs, so I’m doing this to buy him a little more time.”

Adriano tilted his head to the side. “That’s a pretty good story.”

“It’s the truth,” I said in irritation.

“The truth is just a story people want you to believe until the facts come out.”

“Ooh, that’s deep,” I said sarcastically. “You a philosopher?”

“Philosophers don’t settle scores with guns,” he said – a clever little callback to the earlier part of our conversation. “Who hired you? Carmine?”

“No, Sergio.”

He looked confused. “Sergio?”

“Sergio Pasquarelli.”

“Never heard of him.”

“I wish I could say the same,” I muttered.

“Does he work for the Agrellas?”

“Yes.”

“So this Sergio guy, he brought you here?”

“No.” Adriano looked confused again, so I continued. “He took me to some modeling agency, and they got me ready for tonight.”

He frowned. “Modeling agency?”

“Did I stutter?”

He gestured towards the other two women. “What about them?”

They were hanging all over the Swede and the giant – although the two men were doing little more than smiling and making polite conversation.

“What about them?” I asked.

Adriano smirked. “Are they ‘not whores,’ too? Do they have relatives who owe money to the Agrellas?”

I hated this asshole.

“No,” I said coldly. “They just give blowjobs.”

Adriano was enjoying himself now that he was pissing me off. “At least somebody’s honest about their profession.”

“That would be me being honest about their profession.”

“Uh-huh. And what do you do, exactly?”

“I’m a student.”

“Studying what?”

“Fashion design.”

He looked down at my dominatrix get-up. “Did you design this?”

“No. The modeling agency provided it.”

He nodded. “Good.”

“Why ‘good’?”

“Because you may not give blowjobs for money, but you’re sure as hell dressed like it.”

“Blowjob couture,” I said snarkily.

“Pretty much.”

“That’s what they wanted.”

“Who?”

“The agency. They wanted me to look like a high-class escort.”

He smirked again. “I don’t know about the ‘high-class’ part.”

Apparently he thought he had the upper hand because he was dangling money in front of me.

Time to change that perception.

“Why dress high-class when there’s nobody with class around?” I asked coolly.

That annoyed him… although he still seemed vaguely amused.

“Careful,” he warned me.

“I’d say the same to you, but you ignore almost everything I say.”

“‘Almost’?”

“You haven’t made another crack about me being a whore,” I pointed out.

“The night is still young. So let me get this straight: your father owes money to the Agrellas. They said you could work off some of it if you came here and… did what, exactly?”

I shrugged. “Talk.”

He acted like he didn’t believe me. “Talk?”

“Yeah.”

“Talk is cheap.”

“Not that cheap, apparently,” I said.

“How much did they say they’d knock off your father’s debt?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“It is if you want to get your tip.”

I narrowed my eyes. I really didn’t like him.

…too bad he was so good-looking.

“3000 euros,” I answered.

He looked stunned. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“No,” I said, offended.

He still had a shocked expression, so I asked, “What?”

“They’re vastly overpaying.”

“Maybe if I enjoyed talking to you more, it’d be a bit more entertaining,” I snapped.

“So you have to enjoy a job to be any good at it?”

“It helps.”

He smirked. “Well, I hope you enjoy giving blowjobs, then.”

That did it.

I slapped him.

SMACK!

“Fuck around and find out, asshole,” I snapped as he touched his cheek.

I turned and stormed off towards the bedroom.

Suddenly he was calling after me. “Hey – you forgot your tip.”

I paused and turned.

He was holding three 100 Euro bills in the air…

…and he was smirking at me.

Like, I know what you are, little girl.

Come and get your money, WHORE.

I really could have used the cash…

…but I valued my self-worth a lot more.

I walked back over to him –

Acted like I was reaching for the money –

But flipped him off instead.

“Stick it up your ass,” I hissed. Then I turned and walked away.

11

Adriano

I was not having a good night.

Don Agrella’s lateness was a transparent power play. He was trying to get a psychological ‘one-up’ on us.

I’M the important one around here – and I’ll keep you waiting as long as I want.

Stupid schoolyard shit. It pissed me off.

Then there was Carmine’s annoying bowing and scraping, acting like his family wasn’t just jerking me around. I had no idea how a spineless worm like him had ever survived in the Cosa Nostra.

And then…

The Hot Bitch strolled over.

I’d seen her when I’d walked in earlier.

She was gorgeous.

Not in a supermodel way like the other two whores, though.

More like a beautiful ‘girl next door’ type.

Except her body…

Madonn.

She had curves for days.

Too bad she was a whore.

I wasn’t a huge fan of the BDSM outfit she was wearing, although I had to admit it showed off her rack incredibly well.

I liked the thigh-high boots, too.

But most of all, I liked the hair.

It was a wig, obviously… but the whole blue color?

Who the fuck wears THAT to a mafia thing?

Somebody who doesn’t give a shit, that’s who.

I liked it.

I liked it a lot.

But it bothered me that I liked it.

I didn’t want to give in to the Agrellas’ little power play – their hookers and cocaine. It was disrespectful of them. Like they thought we were shitheads who could be bought off with a blowjob and a few lines of coke.

Which is what made me lose my temper.

Carmine panicked and had his guys move the drugs to the other room – and then I had Carmine order them to leave.

After they were gone, the Hot Bitch came strolling over.

“What’s your name?” she asked in the fakest ‘nice voice’ I’d ever heard.

I’d been watching her out of the corner of my eye. She so obviously didn’t want to be here, so the friendly tone of voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

But… she was hot. VERY hot.

Which I didn’t like.

I had a job to do. A negotiation to run.

She was a distraction – and a dangerous one at that.

So I looked away. “I’m not interested.”

That’s when she dropped all pretenses.

“That makes two of us,” she said in a snotty voice. “But would it kill you to tell me your name?”

I looked over in surprise – and irritation.

Nobody talked to me like that.

Not in my family, and sure as hell not anybody else.

And yet, here she was, giving me lip.

Sort of like that blue hair:

I don’t give a FUCK who you are.

I took a second to look her up and down.

Madonn…

What I’d do to you if I got you into bed…

I decided to play along, just to amuse myself.

And by ‘amuse myself,’ I meant ‘get her goat.’

“Adriano,” I said.

“Bianca,” she replied like she was doing me a favor.

“Women like you are usually better mannered. Or at least pretend to be.”

“And what type of women are those?” she asked tartly.

“Whores.”

Then she surprised me again.

“Well, I’m not a whore, so I guess I don’t have to pretend.”

That didn’t make any sense.

“If you’re not a whore, why are you here?”

She gave me a look of pure contempt. “Do you really have to ask that question?”

“Since I have no idea – yeah, I guess I do,” I said sarcastically.

“Because I’m being paid.”

“For what? To annoy me?”

“What are YOU here for, then?” she asked.

She was pushing me.

She knew why I was here.

She knew what was up…

And yet she was trying to goad me.

Saying you were in the Cosa Nostra – or trying to get someone else to admit it – wasn’t something that was done. Especially not with strangers. It was an invitation to wind up in a dark alley with a bullet in the back of your head.

For the briefest second, I wondered if she was wearing a wire –

And if my family had lost control of the cops in Florence.

Then I remembered that the Agrellas had hired her.

No way would they let a cop into their organization – even if she could take my family down.

I looked over at Carmine – and also remembered how Don Agrella had let the Turk try to kill Massimo, Valentino, and Alessandra.

“To settle some scores,” I muttered.

“I thought your type did that with guns.”

She was getting on my nerves. “And what type is that?”

From the tone of my voice, she figured out she’d overstepped…

But she played it cool.

“People in your line of business.”

“And what line of business is that?”

“The kind that settles scores with guns,” she answered.

Clever.

I looked her up and down again – I couldn’t help myself. But I wasn’t about to admit how much I liked what I saw. “You’re an odd choice for this sort of thing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked haughtily.

“If the Agrellas are looking to butter me up, they should’ve gotten somebody better at this part of the job.”

“And what job is that?”

I decided to quote her from earlier. “Do you really have to ask that question?”

She stood up straight, like I’d offended her. “I told you, I’m not a whore.”

“What are you, then?”

Then she got this look in her eye – this Fuck off and die look.

“Somebody who just got tired of this conversation,” she said, and turned to walk away.

I reached out and grabbed her arm.

I don’t know why.

Yeah – okay, I do know why.

She was hot, for one…

And that attitude?

It pissed me off…

But it also kind of turned me on.

No woman had ever talked to me like that –

And some of the men who had were dead.

I admired her balls.

Plus, I didn’t want her to walk away.

But she didn’t exactly like me putting a hand on her.

“Let GO of me!” she snapped.

So I did.

But she’d piqued my curiosity… and I wanted to know more.

So I decided to play a game with her.

“You’re here for the money – right?”

“Aren’t you?” she sneered.

She was being such a bitch that I couldn’t help but be a dick in return. “No, to settle a score. Keep up.”

She gave me a sarcastic look. “Uh-huh… and this score you’re going to settle – it has nothing to do with business, or money, or whatever it is you do for a job – right?”

Okay, she was a bitch –

But she was smart as a whip, too.

Until that exact second, I hadn’t realized that was one of the reasons I was into her, too.

She was a challenge…

Something I didn’t get a lot of with women. Most of the chicks I’d been with had tried to ingratiate themselves with me so I’d buy them shit.

“Alright, so we’re both here for the money,” I agreed. “How’d you like a little bonus?”

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she said coldly, like I was some douchebag propositioning her.

I couldn’t help but clap back at her.

“Good, I don’t want to catch anything.”

…maybe that was a little much.

She gave me a look of pure hatred and turned away a second time.

I grabbed her again –

And she turned around like a pissed-off alley cat. “Let GO!”

“Hold on,” I said, trying to smooth things over.

Suddenly Carmine was right there beside us.

“Hey – hey – ” he barked –

But he wasn’t pissed at me for manhandling his worker.

He was mad at her.

Made sense. He’d hired her to screw me – and here she was, screwing up his plans instead.

“What’s your problem?!” Carmine snarled at her.

Bianca froze like a deer in headlights.

I wanted to keep talking with her, so I covered for her.

“No problem,” I told Carmine.

He addressed me but kept glaring at her. “You want me to throw her out, Signore?”

“No.” I paused, then added, “I like it rough.”

Carmine looked shocked, like he’d just heard his grandma say she liked to take it up the ass.

He scurried away a second later.

While Bianca was recovering her composure, I said, “Answer a few questions and I’ll give you a tip. No sex required.”

She gave me a distrustful look. “…how much of a tip?”

Ah.

So she could be bought.

My attraction immediately plummeted.

“How does 300 euros sound?”

She thought it over for a second.

Finally she muttered, “What do you want to know.”

“Are you one of the Agrellas’ girls?”

She glared at me. “I’m assuming you mean a prostitute.”

I’d pissed her off again.

Not gonna lie:

I kind of liked making her mad.

“Yes.”

“NO,” she seethed. “I’m NOT.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

She looked conflicted for a second –

And then she said, “My father owes them money.”

Her answer threw me for a loop.

She was being honest. I could see it from a mile away.

But Jesus –

What a shit stain of a father – to pimp out his daughter just to settle some debts.

In my shock, I accidentally revealed my thoughts. “So he whored you out?”

She looked like she was about to punch me. “I swear to God, you make another crack like that, I’ll slap your goddamn face.”

I liked this chick.

I hated her, yeah…

And I wanted her…

But I liked her attitude.

When she wasn’t driving me crazy, that is.

“I’ll remember that for when I wanna get slapped. Why’d your father send you here, then?”

She looked sullen. “He didn’t. I can’t reach him, and they’re gonna break his legs, so I’m doing this to buy him a little more time.”

None of this added up.

The more details I heard, the fishier it sounded.

“That’s a pretty good story,” I said facetiously.

She got pissed off again. “It’s the truth.”

I’d heard a lot of guys swear the exact same thing over the years–

It’s the truth!

Of course, they had no idea I already knew they’d betrayed my family…

Or ripped us off for money…

Or tried to sell us out to our enemies.

It was always the last mistake they ever made.

“The ‘truth’ is just a story people want you to believe until the facts come out.”

“Ooh, that’s deep,” she sneered. “You a philosopher?”

“Philosophers don’t settle scores with guns. Who hired you? Carmine?”

She mentioned some low-level foot soldier for the Agrellas named Pasquarelli.

“Never heard of him,” I said.

“I wish I could say the same,” she muttered under her breath.

I asked if he’d brought her here.

“He took me to some modeling agency, and they got me ready for tonight.”

“Modeling agency?”

That was interesting.

Was it part of the Agrellas’ operation?

Did they recruit girls off the street to be models – and then force them into prostitution?

Of course, Bianca wasn’t privy to any of my thoughts…

So she reacted like I was an idiot. “Did I stutter?”

I let her reply slide. I was in information-gathering mode and I wouldn’t be deterred.

Instead, I gestured to the two supermodels hanging all over Massimo and Lars. My boys knew the girls were just an attempt by the Agrellas to play us.

“What about them?” I asked.

“What about them?”

I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease her. “Are they ‘not whores,’ too? Do they have relatives who owe money to the Agrellas?”

She was not happy with me poking fun at her. “No. They just give blowjobs.”

I almost laughed. She was definitely quick on her feet.

“At least somebody’s honest about their profession.”

“That would be me being honest about their profession,” she snarled.

“Uh-huh. And what do you do, exactly?”

She was a student at some fashion design school.

I couldn’t help but look at her clothes, which looked better suited for a BDSM club.

The outfit was expensive… but it made her look cheap. Like she could be bought.

I didn’t like it.

No matter how good her tits looked in it.

“Did you design this?” I asked.

“No. The modeling agency provided it.”

I felt relieved, which surprised me.

Why would I care whether she made clothes like that or not?

“Good,” I said.

“Why ‘good’?”

“Because you may not give blowjobs for money, but you’re sure as hell dressed like it.”

“Blowjob couture,” she said in a sarcastic voice.

God damn she was fast with a quip.

“Pretty much,” I said with a smile.

Then she said the modeling agency had dressed her that way. “They wanted me to look like a high-class escort.”

Again, I couldn’t help myself.

“I don’t know about the ‘high-class’ part.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why dress high-class when there’s nobody with class around?”

Okay. THAT’S enough.

I’d let her push back a little too much, and she was getting a little too full of herself.

“Careful,” I said.

“I’d say the same to you, but you ignore almost everything I say.”

That piqued my interest. What hadn’t I ignored?

“‘Almost’?”

“You haven’t made another crack about me being a whore.”

“The night is still young. So let me get this straight: your father owes money to the Agrellas. They said you could work off some of it if you came here and… did what, exactly?”

She shrugged. “Talk.”

What the hell?

The Agrellas had just let this chick come in here and were going to pay her to – what – irritate the shit out of me?

“Talk?” I said in shock.

“Yeah.”

“Talk is cheap.”

“Not that cheap, apparently.”

I frowned. “How much did they say they’d knock off your father’s debt?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she said snottily.

Bitch –

I’m the one PAYING your ass for information.

“It is if you want to get your tip,” I said coolly.

She looked at me like she hated me.

Too bad it made her look even hotter.

“…3000 euros,” she finally said.

Now NOTHING made sense.

This chick’s father owed money to the Agrellas…

And now they were basically paying her three grand to talk?

Something was way, way off.

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“No,” she snapped.

I didn’t say anything because I was running through all the possible reasons the Agrellas could be doing something so stupid.

When I didn’t answer, she got defensive. “What?”

“They’re vastly overpaying,” I said.

It was sort of a joke – but mostly the truth.

“Maybe if I enjoyed talking to you more, it’d be a bit more entertaining,” she snapped.

I was this close to throwing her over my knee and spanking her ass.

“So you have to enjoy a job to be any good at it?” I asked, setting her up.

“It helps.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy giving blowjobs, then.”

That’s when she slapped me.

Did not see THAT one coming.

And she did not pull her punches.

“Fuck around and find out, asshole!” she yelled as she stomped off.

Five things went through my head at the same time.

One: I wanted to kill her.

Two: it made me want to fuck her even more. Not gonna lie, it kind of turned me on.

Three: I was mad I hadn’t seen it coming. Dominatrix Barbie had basically just sucker-punched me. What the hell did that say about me?

Four: My respect for her went up a ton.

Bitch had balls of steel, that was for sure.

Either that, or she was stupid – or insane.

Nobody in their right mind would slap a made man of the Cosa Nostra. It was a one-way ticket to a shallow grave.

It reminded me of something I might have done: crazy, stupid, and ballsy as hell.

And five: I remembered why she’d been talking to me in the first place…

So I decided to put her in her place.

After all, I was still pissed.

I reached into my pocket and ripped a couple of bills off my bankroll. “Hey – you forgot your tip.”

She stopped and looked around at me.

She hated me – that much was clear from the look on her face.

But there was also this desperation in her eyes.

I knew she was fighting the urge to come back for the money.

Part of me hoped she wouldn’t…

…but then she disappointed me.

She sold out – just like they all do.

Doesn’t matter if they’re a whore or a hitman –

They all sell themselves out for a little bit of money in the end.

She walked over with a pathetic look on her face…

And her hand reached out for the cash.

I could’ve been a dick and jerked it back, but I decided not to.

Giving it to her would be a nice Fuck you, princess.

And then…

…she surprised me again.

Hatred flooded back into her eyes and she thrust her middle finger in my face.

“Stick it up your ass,” she hissed, then turned and walked away.

I stood there in shock.

In 28 years of my life –

And over 12 years in the family business –

Nobody had ever done that.

Nobody had ever turned down money and told me to go fuck myself.

Especially somebody who really needed it.

She valued herself.

That was rare.

I’ll admit, what she’d done had pissed me off –

But it also made me respect the hell out of her, too.

Madonn…

What a woman.

As she stormed off into another room, Carmine came running over.

He played at being outraged on my behalf, but he couldn’t quite hide his glee underneath the anger.

“Signore – I am SO sorry – I will have her removed and punished at once!”

I knew I should be mad at her.

After all, she’d just bitch-slapped me in front of one of my enemies.

Made me look like a fool.

And I was sure Carmine was going to tell his boss, which would make the negotiations that much harder.

He’s weak!

He let a WOMAN hit him!

But I wasn’t mad.

Well –

Okay, yeah, I was.

Pretty damn pissed, actually.

But I also had the deepest respect for what she’d done.

I didn’t have any enemies I respected – certainly not Carmine or the Agrellas.

She was worth a thousand of those spineless worms.

“No… don’t,” I said to Carmine. Then I smiled the tiniest bit. “I kind of like her.”

12

But some of what she’d said got me thinking.

She’d been hired from some outside agency – why?

Dario had refused to be involved in pimping anymore, and I totally supported that decision. It was a nasty, brutal, dirty business, and none of us wanted anything to do with it. It had always bothered me that my father had dabbled in it.

But the Agrellas were all-in on prostitution. They were famous for the size and scope of their operation.

If they wanted to show me and the other guys a good time, why hadn’t they handpicked the best girls out of their stable of escorts?

Why get someone off the street who might act like a bitch and ruin the whole evening for them?

Not only that, but the Agrellas had basically offered Bianca three grand to come here –

And talk.

That made no sense whatsoever.

The other two women weren’t gonna get paid that much even if they put out.

So why promise it to her?

Why cut three grand off a deadbeat’s gambling debts –

Unless…

Unless they weren’t planning to pay her.

Why wouldn’t they pay her?

I suddenly got a very bad feeling.

Maybe they won’t NEED to pay her…

…if she’s not around to collect.

Carmine’s cell phone suddenly buzzed.

He looked at the screen and got a big smile on his face. “Ah – Don Agrella has just arrived! I’ll go and get him right now.”

Every warning siren in my head started going off.

I almost asked him why the hell he had to go get his boss –

But I didn’t want to tip my hand, so I just kept my mouth shut.

“Be right back,” Carmine said as he headed for the exit.

While he was walking, I scanned the room.

There was a massive dining table over to my right – good, solid wood.

I couldn’t do anything too extreme. If I was wrong, I’d look like an idiot and torch the entire negotiation.

But I had to be prepared.

As soon as Carmine walked out the door, I hissed at Lars and Massimo, “Guys, get that table over here in front of me NOW!”

Lars jumped up from the sofa and left the Italian chick mid-sentence.

Massimo detached himself from the Ukrainian and went to the other end of the table. “What’s going on?”

“Just do it,” I snapped. “Fast.”

He and Lars lifted at the same time.

The table was fuckin’ heavy. Lars was strong, and Massimo was an ox, but they still had to strain to drag it over.

“What are you doing?” the Italian girl asked irritably.

I ignored her question and asked one of my own. “Do you turn tricks for the Agrellas, or were you hired just for tonight?”

She looked offended. “What?! Fuck you!”

I didn’t waste time with her. Instead, I pointed at the Ukrainian chick. “Do you work for the Agrellas, or is this a one-time deal?”

She looked at me, shocked, and answered in broken Italian. “I not work for them – I was hired by a place for models.”

SHIT.

She was expendable, too.

They all were.

I glanced back at the bedroom Bianca had retreated into.

I thought about going inside with her – it would be better cover –

But if I was wrong, we’d look like idiots and the Agrellas would eat our lunch in the negotiations.

Maybe I was wrong.

Maybe this was all in my head.

…but I didn’t think so.

Lars and Massimo got the table over in front of me. Then they joined me on the same side as we all faced the door to the hotel suite.

“What’s up?” Lars asked.

“Just get ready to flip it,” I said as I put my left hand underneath the edge of the table – and pulled my pistol with my right.

Massimo and Lars did the same.

The girls freaked out a little to see the guns.

“Get over here,” I told them.

The Ukrainian just stood there like she couldn’t understand what the hell was going on.

The Italian chick stood up and walked to the other side of the table. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Not over there, over HERE,” I barked. Then I yelled at the Ukrainian, “Get over here, NOW – ”

That’s when the door to the hotel room opened.

In walked two guys I hadn’t seen before, dressed all in black.

I guess they’d wanted to not immediately raise suspicions –

To check the layout of the room before giving themselves away –

Because their Uzis were still down by their sides.

That gave us a valuable extra second. Probably saved our lives.

“NOW!” I yelled.

Lars, Massimo, and I heaved the table up and flipped it on its side.

It was heavy as shit, but the adrenaline pumping through us made it easier.

The edge of the table landed on the floor with a loud CRACK!

The Italian chick screamed as she backed up. Unfortunately, she didn’t see who was behind her.

At the same time we flipped the table, we fired our guns and ducked down.

I wasn’t sure we’d hit the gunmen. Or they might have had bulletproof vests.

Either way, we sure as hell didn’t stop them.

A split second later, the Uzis opened fire.

They had suppressors on – silencers – and the gunfire sounded like a chattering noise.

frpttprtpptrrppptppttttppttt

But I could hear the wood on the tabletop splintering.

A mist of blood filled the air above us as the Italian chick screamed.

I didn’t see it happen, but she probably got chewed to pieces by the submachine fire.

The Ukrainian girl got shot and went down like a rag doll.

Suddenly the clips on the Uzis ran out.

Normally they have 10 bullets, but extended magazines can get you 32 rounds.

You burn through 32 rounds fast on full automatic.

“NOW!” I yelled.

Massimo and I stood up in a crouch.

Lars dove to the left of the overturned table –

And we lit the motherfuckers up while they were trying to reload.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!

Both of them went down in a spray of blood.

Unfortunately, there were two more guys coming through the door behind them –

And their suppressed Uzis were already up and ready to go.

“DOWN!” I screamed, and we ducked behind the table again.

More bullets hit the table – but the new guys were smarter. They only shot in bursts of three.

The wood on the bottom of the tabletop started to splinter.

“We gotta get out of here!” Lars yelled.

“SLIDE IT THAT WAY!” I yelled as I pointed at the bedroom Bianca had disappeared into.

Lars grabbed a table leg on the left and pushed –

Massimo grabbed one on the right and pulled –

And they slid the table across the floor.

It was a lot easier this time. Sliding something along a smooth edge goes a lot easier than lifting and dragging it.

We all duckwalked along with it, using it as cover as the thugs fired more rounds at us.

While Lars and Massimo were moving the table, I put my hand over the top and fired blindly – just to give the assholes something to think about.

BANG BANG BANG!

I don’t think I hit them, but they stopped shooting at us for a couple of seconds.

The edge of the table thudded into the wall. Lars ducked into the bedroom, followed by me and Massimo.

Then Lars slammed the door shut.

“BLOCK IT WITH SOMETHING!” I yelled.

There was a massive wardrobe off to the right. Massimo got on the other side, roared like a bull, and shoved it over in front of the door.

I turned around –

And saw Bianca staring right at me, her phone in her hand, her face frozen in terror.

“We’ve got to go – NOW!” I yelled at her.

13

Bianca

After my little back-and-forth with Adriano, I escaped into the bedroom to check my phone.

Debt or no debt, I was seriously considering bolting.

Adriano was hot, but he was an asshole – and there was no way in hell I was going to put up with him for a second longer.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

If I’m honest, though…

I was bothered by how much he turned me on.

It wasn’t just his good looks (although that was a big part of it).

And it wasn’t that he was obviously the top guy in the room (although that was part of it, too). He was clearly the leader, the one everybody else deferred to.

It was weird, but…

I kind of liked the verbal sparring with him. The back-and-forth.

He was an asshole, yeah –

But he kept me on my toes.

He was quick-witted, and he could be pretty funny – when he wasn’t being a dick.

But there was one thing that was a gigantic deal-breaker, the biggest red flag of all:

He was a mafioso.

THAT was what freaked me out the most: that I was turned on by a Cosa Nostra thug.

If one thing could make me walk out, that was it.

No good could come of being attracted to a mobster.

So I was seriously contemplating walking out the door –

When I got distracted. As soon as I picked up my phone, I saw a notification that I had a voicemail from my father. It had come in only three minutes ago.

I hurriedly opened my phone and redialed –

But it immediately went to voicemail.

Cursing, I hung up and played the message he’d left me.

“Hi, Paperotta.”

Paperotta was Italian for ‘little duck’ – my father’s pet name for me ever since I was a baby. These days he used it when he knew I was mad at him and was trying to slip back into my good graces.

“I’m sorry about the money. I am, I really am. I should’ve told you last week when you asked… I shouldn’t have lied. I’m sorry.

“But something’s different this time. I can’t tell you over the phone, but… something really, REALLY bad is going on. It’s a lot bigger than me owing them money – a LOT bigger.

“I want you to get your mother out of town. Both of you get on a train and get the hell out of Florence. Go to another country if you can. I know money’s tight, but borrow from your friends if you have to. Trust me on this – you need to leave town NOW.

“And whatever you do, do NOT go with Sergio or get mixed up with the Agrellas in any way, shape, or form. If they tell you to do something, RUN THE OTHER WAY.

“I’m begging you, Paperotta – take your mother and get on a train and go as far away as you possibly can.

“I love you. Please call me and let me know when you’re safe.”

That’s where the message ended.

As soon as I heard the part about ‘something really, REALLY bad,’ my stomach sank.

By the time he got to ‘run the other way,’ I was nearly having a panic attack.

In fact, I was trembling when the call ended.

What had I gotten myself into?

What the hell was going on with this job I’d agreed to do?

I had to get out of here – NOW –

And that’s when the gunshots started.

14

Adriano

“What’s going on?!” Bianca wailed.

There was no time to answer.

The Uzis chattering on the other side of the door were answer enough.

Lars flung open the expensive drapes on the picture window and stepped back –

And Massimo and I opened fire as Bianca screamed.

The glass window shattered almost immediately.

BLAM BLAM –

KRASH!

Massimo and I lowered our guns, and Lars darted in.

He kicked out a few of the bigger shards of glass still sticking up. Then he ripped the comforter off the bed and threw it over the jagged pieces along the window sill.

I stuck my head through the empty window to look around.

Luckily the room was 20 feet from the nearest sidewalk. No one had been beneath the falling glass.

Plenty of screaming pedestrians were running away from the gunshots, though.

The bad news was that we were three stories up.

A jump from this height would break our legs –

So we had to get lower before we dropped to the ground.

Lars was already on it.

“Massimo, strip the bottom sheet off and triple-knot it to one of the bed posts!” Lars yelled as he ripped the top sheet off the mattress. He immediately folded the sheet diagonally and made it as narrow as possible –

Like a makeshift rope.

He then tied several knots at the farthest end.

At the same time, Massimo peeled off the bottom sheet and followed the instructions he’d been given.

“Push the bed over to the window!” Lars yelled as he tied the two sheets together.

The thugs began kicking at the shredded door.

Meanwhile, Massimo slid the bedframe over to the window.

“Is that going to reach to the ground?” I asked.

“No, but it’s gonna have to do!” Lars said as he threw the makeshift rope out the window.

It was long enough to dangle about halfway down –

Which still meant a drop of 12 feet to the grass below.

It wouldn’t break our legs…

But it wouldn’t be pleasant, either.

“Is that going to hold our weight?!” I asked.

“Only one way to find out,” Lars said.

He grabbed the sheet and stepped up onto the windowsill. Glass cracked and gritted beneath the comforter –

And then he stepped out, using the rope to brace himself against the exterior of the building.

The bedframe slammed up against the wall –

But the bedsheets held.

“See you soon!” Lars said as he slid down the makeshift rope.

He got to the very end of the sheets – dangled for a second –

Then dropped.

There was a loud grunt of pain –

And then he was on his feet, hobbling away from the window.

“Be careful of your hands, it burns like hell!” he yelled. “And stop sliding every time you hit a knot, or you’ll go too fast at the end!”

I looked over at Bianca, who was standing in shock by the bathroom.

In my mind’s eye, I saw the poor Ukrainian girl as she collapsed to the ground, her body riddled with bullet holes.

I could only imagine what the Italian girl had looked like.

“Get over here!” I yelled at Bianca as I stuck my gun in the back of my waistband.

She just stared at me in blank terror.

I raced over, grabbed her hand, and dragged her to the window.

“Adriano, there’s no time for her!” Massimo yelled as he pulled his gun.

The thugs in the other room were now firing into the wardrobe, trying to turn it into kindling.

I grabbed Bianca’s face with both my hands and made her look at me.

“I’m going down first. YOU MUST FOLLOW ME. I’ll catch you at the bottom – DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!”

Tears were streaming down her face, but she rapidly shook her head yes.

I nodded, then turned to Massimo. “As soon as I’m down there, MAKE her go!”

“ALRIGHT, JUST GO ALREADY!” he yelled.

I grabbed the sheet, got up on the windowsill like Lars had, backed out –

And then slid down the makeshift rope.

My hands immediately heated up.

I hit the knot where the bed sheets were tied together, which broke my momentum.

I dangled for a split second, then continued my controlled fall.

My hands were burning now. It felt like the skin on the underside of my fingers was being sandpapered off –

And then I hit the final knot at the end of the bedsheet and jerked to a stop.

Now I understood why Lars had tied it: so we could slow our momentum and make the final drop as easy as possible.

I let go and went into freefall.

A second later, my feet hit the ground.

I tried to absorb the impact by bending my knees and falling to the ground –

But a searing jolt of pain still went up my legs as I collapsed onto the grass.

“FUCK!” I swore as I staggered to my feet.

Lars had his gun out. “I don’t see any of the Agrellas’ men – yet.”

“Call our guys,” I ordered, “and get them over here.”

Then I looked up at the shot-out window.

Bianca was staring down at me from the empty frame.

‘Bianca’ means white – and her face was as pale as her namesake.

“COME ON!” I screamed at her. I got right underneath the rope and held out my arms. “I’ll catch you!”

She shook her head ‘no’ –

“MASSIMO, THROW HER OUT IF SHE DOESN’T DO IT ON HER OWN! ON THE COUNT OF THREE – ONE – TWO – ”

The prospect of being thrown out must have terrified her enough to move.

She grabbed the bedsheet and stumbled out onto the windowsill –

Then came sliding down.

She hit the first knot but didn’t really stop, just slowed down a little.

Then she hit the second knot and didn’t stop at all.

“Oh shit,” I muttered under my breath –

And she slammed into me and knocked me onto the ground.

It was like getting hit by a car.

She was tiny, but she had fallen 15 feet –

And she’d barely slowed down at all the entire time she was sliding.

I groaned as she scrambled off me.

“Oh my god, oh my god – are you okay?!” she wailed.

“…fine…” I wheezed as I struggled to my feet.

“Take off your shoes!” Lars yelled at Bianca. “We’re going to have to run for it!”

She quickly started to pull off her stilettos.

Then Massimo yelled from up above, “GET OUT OF THE WAY!”

We scrambled away from the bedsheet rope –

As a bed mattress tumbled down through the air and SLAMMED onto the ground.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Lars muttered.

“Yeah, why didn’t you think of that?” I snapped as I hobbled across the grass.

Massimo came out the window and started sliding.

It was a good thing he’d thrown the mattress down, because the sheets ripped before he reached the end.

He bellowed in surprise –

And collapsed as soon as his feet hit the mattress.

“SHIT that hurt,” he groaned as he rolled over onto his knees.

Suddenly there was a wooden CRASH from up above.

The thugs were in the room – or would be any second.

“Let’s GO!” Lars yelled as he grabbed Massimo under the big man’s arm and helped him to his feet. “Hug the building!”

I grabbed Bianca’s hand and pulled her to the side of the hotel, where we ran alongside the stone wall.

Lars and Massimo were right behind us.

The thugs got to the window and tried to shoot at us –

But since we were right up against the building, the angle was terrible for their aim.

They probably had to lean waaay out of the window in order to fire at us.

I’m not sure, because I didn’t look back.

All I know is that bullets fwip fwip fwipped into the grass next to us.

Bianca screamed –

But then we reached the corner of the hotel.

Once we turned right and started running along the face of the building, we were safe.

“Lars, where’s Vincenzo?!” I shouted.

“He said he was coming!” Lars yelled from behind me.

“Call him again – ”

I didn’t get the chance to finish my sentence when gunfire broke out at the front of the hotel.

As we ran closer, I could see our three black Mercedes parked out front.

My men were locked in a gun battle with someone in the lobby of the building. I could see the flashes from their pistol muzzles along with the BANG BANG BANG!

“Get your guns out!” I hissed to Lars and Massimo.

We reached the edge of the main entrance and exchanged the spent magazines in our Glocks for fresh ones.

Our foot soldiers had taken cover behind the Mercedes and were firing towards the lobby doors.

A couple of my men were already dead on the ground. The Agrellas’ assassins had apparently surprised them.

“Mass and I will cover you on ‘three,’” Lars said. “Get to the cars.”

“Alright,” I said as I gripped Bianca’s hand tightly.

“Wait!” she whimpered.

I turned to look her in the eye. “When he says ‘three,’ run like hell. I’ll hold your hand the entire way.”

“But – ”

Lars didn’t wait. “One – two – three!”

He and Massimo stepped out far enough from behind cover that they could get a bead on the gunmen inside the lobby.

BLAM BLAM BLAM!

I fired at the lobby with my right hand as I dragged Bianca with my left.

BLAM BLAM BLAM!

The gunmen in the lobby hadn’t been expecting to get flanked.

Lars and Massimo shot several of the bastards, and the others retreated back inside the hotel.

I ducked behind one of the Mercedes with Bianca.

Vincenzo was there beside me. “Boss, we got Lars’ call, but they just started shooting!”

“Get inside and start the engine, then move into the passenger seat!” I ordered him. Then I shouted at my men, “EVERYBODY OPEN FIRE NOW!”

I stood up and started shooting, and the rest of my men joined me in laying down a hail of gunfire.

Lars and Massimo sprinted over to us and took cover behind the Mercedes.

“ALRIGHT, GET OUT OF HERE, ALL OF YOU!” I yelled at my men.

They started diving into the other two cars.

“Lars, take the wheel!” I yelled. Then I opened the rear door and dragged Bianca behind me as I tumbled across the seat.

All our cars had bulletproof glass, but the assassins had done their best to shatter the windows.

Bianca was smushed between me and Massimo, who dove in behind her.

Vincenzo had already scooted over to the front passenger seat when Lars got behind the wheel.

“DRIVE!” I yelled.

Lars put the car into gear and stomped on the accelerator.

The Agrellas’ men took a few more shots at us, but we sped away from the hotel and into the night.

15

Bianca

In the blink of an eye, my life had turned into a horror movie crossed with an action film.

My heart was beating three times as fast as possible, and I trembled from head to toe as the car sped down the narrow streets of old Florence.

“What the FUCK?!” Adriano roared.

“Is anyone shot?” Lars asked.

I’d heard Adriano call out his name during the firefight. His calmness was a stark contrast with Adriano’s rage.

There was a chorus of no’s from the other men.

Lars glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Signorina – are you hurt?”

I shook my head mutely. I’m not sure I could have spoken even if I’d wanted to.

“What the fuck was THAT?!” Adriano bellowed.

“I think it’s pretty obvious, don’t you?” Massimo said.

I’d heard Adriano use his name several times, too.

His huge body was squeezed up against me on my left side, nearly crushing me against Adriano.

Suddenly Adriano turned towards me. “You KNEW about this, didn’t you?!”

I shook my head frantically, my eyes on the gun in his hand.

“This was a set-up – and you were the fucking bait!” Adriano snarled in my face.

I was terrified beyond belief.

These men were mafiosos – I just knew they were going to kill me and dump my body in the woods.

“I swear to God, I didn’t know – I just wanted to save my f-father!” I babbled as I burst into tears.

And just like that, Adriano calmed down.

He still looked like he wanted to kill someone – but at least he stopped shouting.

“Are you going to k-kill me?” I sobbed.

“No,” he said in a gruff voice. “Not if you didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“I d-didn’t, I promise!”

“Then you’re safe. Massimo, call Dario – we’ve got to let him know that the Agrellas might be coming for them.”

As Massimo pulled out his cell phone, Lars addressed Adriano in the rearview mirror. “You knew something was going down in the hotel suite – but how?”

“It was something she said,” Adriano replied, gesturing to me. “Her father owes money to the Agrellas, and they agreed to knock off three grand if she came here tonight. Nobody in their right mind would pay that – which meant she was expendable. So were the other girls.”

She was expendable.

My blood ran cold as soon as Adriano said it.

That meant that everyone…

Sergio –

Those people at the agency –

They’d all known they were sending me to my death.

I wanted to throw up.

“Niccolo?” Massimo suddenly said into his cell. “Hold on – let me put you on speaker.”

He held the phone out so everyone could hear.

“I’m assuming this isn’t good news,” a man’s voice spoke.

“No, it’s not,” Adriano snapped. “Is Dario there?”

“Yes,” a deeper voice said.

“It was a set-up. The Agrellas tried to kill us.”

There was a pause… then the deep voice asked, “Are you alright?”

“We lost Rolando and Gasparo. A couple of others might have been shot, but they all made it into the cars.”

“Lars and Massimo?”

“We’re fine,” Massimo said.

“You should be ready in case they move on you,” Adriano said to the phone.

“Already working on it,” Niccolo said.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” Dario ordered.

Adriano summarized everything in 20 seconds. I was surprised to hear some of the details – like Adriano moving the table into position to use as a shield.

When Adriano finished, Dario said, “Quick thinking.”

Niccolo added, “Now get back here as soon as possible.”

“No,” Adriano said.

There was a pause.

I could almost see the surprised faces of the two men on the other end of the line.

“EXCUSE me?” Niccolo said in both irritation and surprise.

“We pulled someone out with us,” Adriano said. “A girl the Agrellas hired for the evening. I think she can shed some more light on this.”

“Yes, well, we can question her just as effectively HERE. Now g– ”

“The Agrellas are expecting us to retreat,” Adriano argued. “We have a chance to hit them when their guard is down! If we run back to the estate – ”

“Then no one else DIES.”

“And the Agrellas get away with their bullshit!” Adriano shouted.

“If Rolando and Gasparo are dead, you have ten men at your immediate disposal. Fewer, if any others got wounded. You’re going to take on the whole fucking Agrella family with ten men?”

“I have eight more at the safe house.”

“Oh, MY mistake! Eighteen men – that’s a whole fucking ARMY!” Niccolo said facetiously. Then he growled, “Get back here NOW.”

“I’m the capo of Florence. I can’t go hiding behind big brother every time something goes wrong.”

“This isn’t a playground fight, you fool!”

“Retreating makes me look weak.”

“Better than making you look like a corpse!”

Adriano got a resolute look on his face. “If my don orders me back, I’ll come – but otherwise, it should be my call.”

There was a long pause before Dario finally spoke. “Talk to the girl and see what you can find out. But don’t go attacking the main compound – that’s suicide.”

“What about one of the Agrellas’ safe houses?” Adriano suggested. “Didn’t their consigliere give us an address after the Turk’s men tried to kill Massimo and Valentino in Florence?”

“That’s true…”

“We could grab a couple of their men and squeeze them for information.”

I was pretty sure ‘squeeze them for information’ was a euphemism for torture, and I felt nauseated all over again.

“Do it,” Dario said.

When Niccolo spoke again, he sounded testy. “I’ll text you the address.”

“We need to do something about Rolando and Gasparo’s bodies,” Adriano said. “If the Agrellas don’t make them ‘disappear,’ that is.”

“I’ll call our contacts in the police.”

“Try De Luca and Conti in Homicide,” Adriano suggested.

“I see somebody did his homework,” Niccolo sneered.

“I take my job as capo seriously.”

“Well, do us a favor and take it seriously enough that you don’t get yourself – or anyone else – killed.”

Adriano looked pissed. “Your faith in me is overwhelming, Nic.”

“Yeah, yeah. Call us when you decide what you’re going to do… CAPO.”

“Alright. Thanks, Dario.”

“Be safe, brother. That goes for all of you.”

“We will.”

From the repeated use of ‘brother,’ I wondered if they were all related or if it was just the way they addressed each other.

Massimo ended the call and pocketed his phone.

“We can’t go to the Agrella’s safe house like this,” Lars said. “The car looks like Swiss cheese.”

“Get back to the safehouse so we can switch it out,” Adriano ordered. Then he looked at me. “In the meantime, I want to hear what Bianca knows.”

Oh shit…

I started trembling all over again. “I don’t know anything, I swear!”

“You may not know what you know. Start with your father – what’s his role in all of this?”

As soon as he said your father, I immediately remembered the voicemail.

“Wait – hold on,” I said as I reached into my leather dominatrix top.

“What the fuck’re you – oh,” Adriano said as I retrieved my phone.

“Nice hiding place,” Massimo said humorously.

Adriano shot Massimo an irritated look – like he didn’t want the giant looking at my boobs – then turned back to me. “Well?”

“I was listening to this right before the shooting started,” I said, then played them the voicemail.

After the recording ended, Adriano frowned. “What does he mean, ‘it’s a lot bigger than me owning them money’?”

“I don’t know!”

“Call him back.”

“He’s not answering any of my – ”

“Call him back NOW.”

I hit redial on the phone, but the call immediately went to voicemail.

“See?” I snapped.

Then I thought of something else.

“My mother,” I said in panic. “Please – we have to go get her – ”

“We’ll deal with her in a minute,” Adriano said. “Now tell me what you – ”

“Please, I’m begging you!”

“IN A MINUTE!”

I burst out crying.

He softened a little bit. “Fine, Jesus Christ, we’ll get your mother – just tell me what happened before you got to the hotel!”

I sniffled. “I went to the modeling agency… there was a woman… and a gay guy named Luca did my hair and makeup…”

“What woman?”

“She ran the place, I think. Luca said her name was Martina.”

“Was there anyone else?”

“Um – yes. There was a guy behind a door who told the woman to get me ready. I didn’t see him, but he sounded fat.”

“What do you mean, he ‘sounded fat’?”

“He wheezed when he spoke.”

Adriano exchanged looks with Massimo. “Bautiste.”

“Who?” I asked.

“One of the Agrella brothers. He’s in charge of their brothels, so the modeling agency is probably how they recruit girls.”

I felt sick to my stomach.

“Was there anyone else?” Adriano asked. “Did you hear the name Dominic or Savino?”

“No… but there was another man in the office who didn’t speak.”

“You saw him?”

“Yes. Just a glimpse before Martina closed the door.”

“Did he see you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Was he older? Gray hair and a mustache?”

“No – he was young, tall, and thin. Clean-shaven and short hair.” I shuddered as I remembered his face. “He had cruel eyes.”

“Cruel eyes?”

I nodded. “He looked like he would have enjoyed hurting people.”

“That’s half the Cosa Nostra,” Lars said sardonically.

Adriano shot him a look, then turned back to me. “Anything else you can remember?”

“No, I swear.”

“We’re here,” Lars said as he turned into an alleyway.

We were in a seedy part of Florence – the warehouse district.

The car drove alongside a building until it reached a loading dock.

Lars flashed his lights. One of the sliding metal doors rolled up, and our car pulled in.

On the inside of the loading bay door stood a couple of guys. One had a pistol and the other held the chain that raised the door.

The loading bay was huge, at least a hundred feet long. Off to the right was a small fleet of black vehicles, all lined up in a row.

As we got out of our car, the other two Mercedes drove in behind us. The passenger sides were riddled with bullet holes, and the windows were white from all the cracks in them.

“Jesus, what happened?” the guy pulling the chain asked as he lowered the loading bay door.

“The Agrellas happened,” Adriano said as he hurried to the other cars. “How bad is it?”

“Cosimo and Elio got hit,” a man said. “Probably not fatal, but not good.”

“Get the gunshot doctor over here,” Adriano ordered. He pointed at the guy by the door. “You – go tell everybody upstairs that we roll out in five minutes.”

“Where to?”

“We’re gonna hit the Agrellas’ safe house and get some fuckin’ payback.”

The guy ran up some concrete stairs and went through a metal door.

“Adriano,” I said in a forlorn voice.

He looked over at me. “What?”

“…my mother…?”

Adriano scowled like he’d been hit with a migraine. “Shit… okay, call her and have her go someplace with a bunch of people around – a bar, a restaurant, anyplace like that. Have her wait for us there. Tell her NOT to bring anything with her, like clothes or a suitcase – if she’s being watched, we don’t want to tip anybody off. Vincenzo, get the address and go pick her up.”

Vincenzo didn’t look too happy. “I should go with you guys, boss.”

Adriano glared at him. “YOU should do what I TELL you to do.”

“Like how you did what Niccolo said to do?” Massimo muttered – not quite under his breath.

Adriano glared at him. “Don’t even start with me right now.”

Massimo held up his hands like Fine, whatever.

Adriano glanced over at his wheelman. “Vincenzo – ”

“I’ll go, I’ll go,” Vincenzo said sullenly.

Adrian slapped him on the shoulder. “Good man.”

“Should I go with him?” I asked Adriano.

“No, you stay here. Vincenzo’s gonna go get your mother, and then you’ll all lay low until we get back. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“And keep calling your father. I wanna know what he knows about the Agrellas.”

“I will,” I said, then added quietly, “Thank you.”

Adriano looked at me for a long second… then nodded. “You’re welcome. Vin, take her upstairs and get her situated while she calls her mom.”

“Are you going to leave somebody to watch her?” Massimo asked.

“She’s not going to run,” Adriano said, then looked at me. “Because she knows that if she does, the Agrellas are gonna find her and kill her. Not to mention her parents. We’re the only chance she’s got at saving her family.”

A shudder ran down my spine.

It was a reminder that as kind as Adriano could occasionally seem…

…he was still a mafioso.

And a killer.

Anything he did for me, he was really only doing for himself.

Vincenzo led me up the concrete stairs.

I glanced back as I followed him –

And saw Adriano watching me as I walked through the door.

When I caught him looking, he turned back to his men. “Chop chop, assholes! We’re out the door in three minutes!”

16

Adriano

It took a little longer than I would have liked, but soon we were back on the road in fresh cars that hadn’t been shot all to hell.

A foot soldier named Giorgio was driving. Lars rode shotgun, and Massimo sat with me in the back.

I was beginning to regret not sticking him in another car.

“This is insane,” he grumbled for the tenth time. “We should be headed back to the house like Niccolo said.”

He meant our family estate in Tuscany, the mansion where Niccolo and Dario were.

I scowled. “The Agrellas tried to slaughter us tonight, and you wanna pussy out?”

“No, what I want is to be smart about it.”

“This is smart. The Agrellas aren’t expecting us to hit back.”

“You hope.”

“What the fuck are we supposed to do, man? Sit around with our dicks in our hands and wait for the perfect moment to get back at them?”

“No – ”

“Then what’s the fuckin’ problem?”

Massimo glared at me. “You went against Niccolo.”

“What, because I didn’t want to run away like a little bitch? Dario backed me up.”

“Dario only said ‘yes’ because he knew you were gonna go off half-cocked if he didn’t. He knows it’s better to keep you on a leash, even if he has to play it out a little.”

“No – ”

“YES,” Massimo said angrily. “We all know you, Adriano. Don’t act like you’re a different guy than I grew up with. We all know you’re gonna do whatever the hell you want to do, and fuck everybody else.”

“I told Dario that if he ordered me back, I’d go. And he didn’t. So why don’t you tell me what this is really about, fratellino?”

‘Fratellino’ is Italian for ‘little brother.’

Massimo had five inches and 70 pounds on me, but he was three years younger… and he hated it when I called him fratellino.

Which is why I did it.

The bastard was working my last nerve.

“I’ll tell you what this is about,” Massimo said. “This is about you not wanting to look weak… because you’re terrified of looking weak.”

His words hit me like a gut punch.

Partly because, deep down –

In a place I didn’t even want to admit existed –

I knew he was right.

But like I said… I wasn’t about to admit that shit.

“Fuck you,” I snarled.

“No, FUCK YOU. You’re endangering all our lives so you can look like the big man and finally step out of Dario’s shadow – ”

I was about to punch Massimo in the face when Lars cleared his throat.

“Ahem,” he said as he looked at Giorgio in the driver’s seat.

His meaning was clear:

Handle this shit in private.

NOT in front of your men.

Massimo didn’t like being corrected.

“Somebody needs to say it,” he grumbled.

“Not now, they don’t,” Lars said quietly.

Giorgio knew exactly what was going on.

“I won’t say nothin’, boss,” he swore as he looked at me in the rearview mirror. “What gets said in the car, stays in the car. On my mother’s grave.”

“Thank you, Giorgio,” I said, then glared at Massimo. “Nice to have some actual fuckin’ loyalty for once.”

“‘Loyalty’? You wanna talk about loyalty?” Massimo snapped. “How about some loyalty to your family and your men? You’re four soldiers down and you wanna go hit the Agrellas’ safe house, but you send Vincenzo to go pick up an old lady. What the fuck is that all about?”

I tensed up.

He had me on that one.

It was a bad decision, and I knew it.

To do a gigantic favor for some girl I didn’t even know –

Who’d been a monumental bitch to me, by the way –

It was beyond fucking stupid.

But…

I had to.

Why?

Fuck if I knew.

All I know is if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s seeing a woman cry.

Before Dario and Alessandra got married, they’d had their first big fight. He’d basically cut her loose and told her to get out.

An hour later, she came down the stairs and said goodbye to me and everybody else before Lars took her home.

The entire time, she was fighting back tears. Trying to be brave.

I was furious with Dario –

Because I could see how much she was suffering.

I could see how much Alessandra loved him… how much Dario meant to her.

She was a good woman…

And it tore me apart to see her in so much pain.

I was the last in line.

When she got to me, I told her, “You deserve better than this.”

She broke down into sobs, and it was like a knife in my heart.

It was the same thing with Bianca.

I’d been furious with her when we first jumped in the car.

I was sure she’d set us up –

Then she started crying and talking about her father.

That was what really got me.

I could tell that she loved him.

That she was terrified for him.

So when she started asking me to get her mother to safety…

I couldn’t say ‘no.’

I just couldn’t.

It was stupid.

I know that.

But… I couldn’t.

While all of those thoughts and memories were going through my head, I didn’t say anything.

Massimo took the opportunity to twist the knife.

“You wouldn’t be falling down on the job on account of her being a smokin’ hot piece of ass, would you?” he asked with a smirk.

I could’ve killed him right then and there.

The implication that I’d betray my family and my men for a piece of tail –

I saw red.

And I backhanded the son of a bitch.

It wasn’t a punch. I mean, I was sitting next to Massimo. All I could basically do was smack him with the back of my left hand.

But it stunned him –

And sent him into a fury.

“YOU LITTLE – ” he roared as he pulled back his right hand –

“GUYS!” Lars shouted from the front seat.

It was like our father yelling at us when we were kids. Exact same reaction.

Massimo and I both froze.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Lars hissed under his breath. “Idiots.”

Massimo glared at me but didn’t say anything. Then he looked away.

I didn’t say anything, either.

He’d stepped out of line, yeah –

But I’d been out of line, too.

I was the capo – the family’s man in Florence – and I had every right to discipline a subordinate who stepped out of line.

Slap the shit out of him, if I wanted to.

Hell, some capos shot people in the head just to make a fuckin’ point.

But Massimo was my brother…

And we were acting like we were snotnose kids again.

Lars was right to call us out on it –

But it still rankled me.

Nobody said anything for the next two minutes until Giorgio slowed the car down.

“We’re here,” he said quietly.

17

Bianca

When I spoke to my mother over the phone, I didn’t want to scare her. My mom’s kind of high-strung anyway, and I didn’t want her to freak out – so I didn’t tell her about what had happened at the hotel.

I just told her that the Agrellas’ thugs were heading back to the apartment to look for Dad – and if she wasn’t out before they came, they might hurt her.

That freaked her out enough.

She agreed to go down the street to Romano’s, the bar where everybody in the neighborhood hung out.

She didn’t like bars, though, so that was its own little battle.

“Mom, you have to be around people, okay? Lots of people – and there’s always a ton of people at Romano’s. And don’t bring anything but your purse. The Agrellas might be watching you, and we don’t want them to know you’re trying to run. There’s a guy I’m sending to pick you up. I’m going to show him your picture so he’ll know who you are.” I covered the phone and spoke to Vincenzo. “Can I send her your picture, too?”

“No – but tell her I’ll say, ‘I have a dozen red roses for you in the car.’ Tell her not to leave with anybody unless they tell her that.”

I relayed the information.

“I love you, too, Mom. Leave now, okay? Okay.”

As soon as I showed him a picture of my mother and he had the address, Vincenzo took off – and I was left alone with the two men who had been shot in front of the hotel.

We were in the ratty offices of a warehouse, but the rooms had been converted into a makeshift living area. There were folding chairs, card tables with abandoned poker hands, and a dozen rickety metal cots.

One of the guys who had gotten shot lay on a cot, bleeding all over the threadbare sheets.

I winced as I watched him. He looked and sounded horrible: glassy eyes, waxy skin, raspy breathing.

I asked the other guy – who had gotten shot in the arm and seemed okay – if there was anything I could do.

He tried to smile, but it was more of a painful grimace. “Thanks, but the doctor should be here any minute.”

Suddenly there were hurried footsteps clack-clack-clacking up the stairs.

“That’ll be him,” the man said.

A guy swept into the room. He was about 35 and dressed in jeans, a white shirt, and a black leather jacket. He was handsome, but he had a worried look on his face. Nothing about him screamed ‘doctor’ – no white lab coat, no stethoscope, nothing. However, he did carry a black leather satchel in one hand and a food cooler in the other.

“Elio,” he said by way of greeting. “How bad is it?”

Elio – the guy hit in the arm – gestured to the man on the cot. “See to Cosimo first. He got it worse than I did.”

The doctor glanced at me. “Who’s this?”

“She was at the gunfight,” Elio said. “Adriano got her out.”

“Interesting hair.”

I realized I was still wearing the metallic blue wig.

I pulled it off and tossed it away, then pulled the clips out that had been keeping my hair in place.

“It’s a wig,” I said as I shook out my hair.

“Yeah, I can see, thanks,” the doctor said sardonically. “Can you handle the sight of blood?”

“Yes,” I replied, then added hesitantly, “…I think so.”

“Then come make yourself useful.”

I followed him over to the cot, where the doctor used scissors to cut away Cosimo’s shirt. There was a single hole in his skin a few inches below his ribcage. Blood trickled out of it slowly.

“Cosimo, can you hear me?” the doctor asked.

The man groaned weakly.

“Hang on,” the doctor said, then shook his head. “He should be in a hospital.”

“No hospitals,” Elio replied.

“I know, I know,” the doctor said bitterly. “We wouldn’t want to make this easy.”

He opened up the cooler. Inside were gel ice packs and several plastic medical bags filled with blood.

“There’s an IV stand in the closet over there,” he said to me. “Bring it here, please.”

While I was retrieving the metal stand, the doctor swabbed a patch of skin on Cosimo’s abdomen with alcohol. Then he uncapped a syringe from his medical satchel, held it upright, flicked it, and squirted some fluid out of the needle.

“This’ll sting a little,” he said, then added with a bit of gallows humor, “Not nearly as much as when you got shot, though.”

While he was injecting Cosimo, I put the metal stand next to the cot. “Here?”

“That’s good.”

“Is this… normal?”

“You mean, me making house calls?” the doctor joked. “Only for my most wonderful clients.”

“I meant… is this an average Friday night?”

“Hasn’t happened in six months, actually. I was beginning to hope my services wouldn’t ever be required again.”

“Too bad for you, doc,” Elio joked.

“Yeah… too bad for everybody,” the doctor muttered.

18

Adriano

The Agrellas’ safe house was a three-story walk-up in one of the poorest neighborhoods in Florence. It was the kind of place where the neighbors wouldn’t call the police if they heard a gunshot or two.

A dozen, though?

They’d call.

The cops could be there within minutes of the first gunshot, so we had to make it fast – in and out.

The only thing we had going for us was that most of the department would be at the hotel right now, leaving fewer cops to respond.

Ordinarily, Niccolo could have just called our contacts in the police and told them to show up half an hour late –

But after the gunfight at the hotel, I doubted the police were going to be taking requests.

The Cosa Nostra was supposed to keep the peace.

That’s why the police could afford to turn a blind eye: because the mafia would keep shit nice and orderly. That way the cops could go after muggers and burglars and street gangs.

You know – unorganized crime.

But what had happened at the hotel had been anything but organized.

It had been a massacre… a bloodbath.

Not orderly.

Definitely not ‘nice.’

Which meant the police weren’t going to be doing us any big favors for a while.

So the raid on the safe house had to go smoothly, or it could turn into a clusterfuck.

Our Mercedes were parked in an alleyway down the block. Everyone poured out of the cars and pulled bulletproof vests and shotguns out of the trunks.

Shotguns were best for a situation like this. We wouldn’t have to aim like we would with a pistol. Lars was the only one who stuck with his Glock.

As everyone was slipping on their vests, I spoke in a low voice. “Giorgio, Flavio, and Remy stay with the cars and keep them running. Everybody else is going up.

“Even if there’s an elevator, we’re using the stairs. The front door’s probably locked, so Marco’s going to pick it. Then he’ll stick with me all the way to the top floor in case we need to pick that lock, too. Lars, you got some instructions?”

Years before he’d met Dario in an Italian prison, Lars had been in special ops with the Swedish military. He was the only one of us who had specifically trained for just this sort of operation.

“We’ll go up single-file,” Lars said quietly. “The last two guys will be Lorenzo and Rocco. They’ll stay on the ground floor and guard our rear. The next-to-the-last guys are Emilio and Tommaso. You stay on the second-floor landing and make sure we don’t get surprised – just in case the Agrellas rented the second floor, too. Everybody else follows me, Adriano, and Massimo up to the top.

“If you hear gunfire, DO NOT SHOOT. You ONLY fire your gun if you can confirm your target. If everybody gets freaked out and starts shooting, we’ll end up killing each other. I repeat: do not shoot unless you can confirm it’s the enemy and you have him dead to rights. Now line up.”

The men all assembled into a line. Everyone looked grim.

I took the front position with Marco next to me. He was the best lockpick we had, which I’m sure he was regretting right about now.

“I should go first,” Lars whispered to me.

“I’m the one who decided to do this, so I’m the one who goes first,” I replied.

“I’m trained for this – you’re not.”

“Then make sure you got my back.”

Lars nodded reluctantly. He looked at the men to check they were ready, then whispered, “Go time.”

We were on our way.

We walked swiftly down the alleyway, keeping the shotguns low to our sides.

I wasn’t worried about innocent bystanders getting in the way. This wasn’t the kind of neighborhood where people hung out after dark unless they were up to no good –

And anybody up to no good would bolt as soon as they saw us coming.

You see 14 guys with guns walking down the street in Italy after dark, there’s only two things they can be: the cops or the Cosa Nostra. Either way, anybody who lived around here would run the opposite direction.

I kept my eyes open for any Agrella lookouts.

I didn’t see anyone.

Didn’t see any security cameras, either. They would have stood out like sore thumbs against the crumbling beige stucco of the building.

There were probably cameras on the inside, though.

The Agrellas would know we were coming – but there was no way to avoid it. If we cut the power, that would clue them off, too.

I prayed to the Virgin that whoever was watching the security feeds was drunk or taking a nap.

The street was residential and deserted. There was traffic on the next block, but not in front of the building.

We reached the front door, which was a metal grate on hinges.

Marco got down on one knee, worked his magic, and the door was open in ten seconds flat.

I went in first. Marco came in behind me, followed by Lars and Massimo, then all the other guys.

The lobby was basically just a small alcove with some metal mailboxes bolted to a wall. From the numbers on the mailboxes, there were only five apartments in the building: two each on the first couple of floors, with the fifth apartment serving as the penthouse.

If you could even call it a ‘penthouse’ in a flea-trap like this. The paint was peeling, the linoleum floors were warped, and the entire place stunk like cigarette smoke and garlic.

As I expected, there wasn’t an elevator – just a set of stairs with flickering fluorescent lights.

However, there was a security camera in the lobby ceiling… and the lens was aimed at the front door.

They knew we were coming.

Fuck it – couldn’t be helped.

I steeled myself and started up the stairs.

I went as fast as I could. As I passed the second-floor apartments, I heard a TV playing a sitcom with a laugh track.

I kept on going.

I half expected an Agrella foot soldier to be waiting for me at every turn –

But the stairwell was deserted.

I made it to the third floor.

There was a small foyer, then the door to the safe house apartment.

I crept down the foyer, paused by the door, and looked back at Marco.

He was dripping sweat. Looked absolutely terrified.

Behind him, Lars had his Glock pointed at the door.

Massimo was to the left of Lars so he could fire without hitting him.

I held up one finger: Wait a second.

Then I reached out, took hold of the doorknob, and slooooowly turned it.

To my surprise, it opened.

I pushed it forward a couple of millimeters –

No resistance.

It was open.

I glanced at Lars, who nodded. He grabbed Marco by the shoulder and pulled him out of the way.

I looked at the door and swallowed.

This was it.

Do or die.

You wanna be the big man and call the shots?

Then you gotta be willing to be the first one through the door.

I glanced back at Lars and silently mouthed, One… two…

On ‘three,’ I swung the door open –

Barged into the room with my shotgun ready –

And froze in horror.

My first kill was when I was 17, during a shoot-out with a rival family’s foot soldiers.

In the 11 years since then, I’d killed another dozen men in similar situations. Two had happened last month during the Turk’s attack on our family compound, and I’d probably added another one tonight at the hotel.

None of that prepared me for what I saw.

Five men were strewn around the apartment, lying on the floor or sprawled out on the sofas.

They’d all been shot multiple times.

Several looked like they’d take a dozen bullets to the chest.

Two of them had been shot in the head so badly that they were completely unrecognizable as human.

Blood was everywhere: sprayed on the walls, soaking the carpet, staining the furniture.

It looked like a slaughterhouse.

The only source of light in the room was a TV showing security footage from several cameras, including the one in the lobby.

If anybody had been alive, they absolutely would have seen us coming.

…if anybody had been alive.

I heard Massimo suck in his breath behind me, then let out a whispered, “Madonn…”

Lars brushed past me and swung around to the right, his Glock aimed into the kitchen.

“Clear,” he whispered.

His actions reminded me I had a job to do.

I walked past the corpses and down the hall to the back of the apartment.

The blood-soaked carpet squelched under my shoes as I went.

I checked room after room.

There were two more dead bodies, and they were in even worse shape than the ones in the main room.

I checked the bathroom, the closets –

No survivors.

I returned to the main room and found my men standing there, stunned.

Only Lars seemed unaffected. I figured he’d probably seen worse on the battlefield.

“What the fuck happened here?” I asked in a low voice.

Lars gestured at the bodies. “They don’t even have their guns out. Which means they were taken completely by surprise.”

“But there’s security cameras,” I said as I pointed at the TV monitor. “They had to have seen them coming. Unless – ”

“Unless they trusted whoever killed them,” Massimo said.

Shit.

Had the Agrellas’ own men done this to them?

Or had it been someone else?

In the eerie silence, it felt like the Devil himself had butchered them, then disappeared without a trace.

Lars placed a finger on one of the bodies.

“I think he’s dead,” I said sardonically.

“He’s also cold,” Lars replied. “Which means this happened a while ago. Look at the blood – it’s already sticky. It’s not running down the walls.”

“Shit,” I muttered. “If they were shot more than 10 minutes ago, the cops could be here any second – ”

“No,” Lars said. “Listen: there aren’t any sirens.”

He was right – the night was filled with normal traffic sounds, but no police sirens.

“Whoever did this had suppressors,” Lars said. “The neighbors probably didn’t hear much at all.”

Massimo pointed to one of the guys on the sofa who had at least a dozen bullet holes in his chest. “And it was automatic gunfire – ”

“Like the guys with the Uzis back at the hotel,” I realized.

Lars nodded.

“Why would the Agrellas kill their own men?” I asked.

“After this,” Lars replied, “I’m not entirely sure those guys at the hotel were the Agrellas.”

“Hired hitters?”

“Maybe.”

“But… if they were working with the Agrellas to kill us – why the fuck would they kill these guys?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?”

“Not that I don’t find this discussion fascinating,” Massimo said, “but shouldn’t we get the hell out of here?”

“Yeah,” I muttered as I looked at the carnage all around me. “Let’s go.”

19

I filled in Niccolo and Dario over speakerphone as we sped away from the Agrellas’ safe house.

They were as shocked as I had been.

“You’re joking,” Niccolo said.

“Nope.”

“Sounds like the Agrellas brought a Rottweiler to the party and it turned on them.”

“But who’s the Rottweiler?” Dario asked rhetorically.

“You think it could be connected to the Turk?”

“Maybe,” Dario said.

The Turk was a rival gangster who had invaded our compound last month. He had taken Alessandra hostage after Dario had kicked her out. Then he’d used her to break in and try to murder us in our sleep.

Luckily for us – and unluckily for him – we’d seen him coming.

Security cameras for the win.

The Turk had also conspired with an old woman, a servant of ours who had killed our father to get revenge for her own family’s deaths. She had been the Turk’s mole in our organization. Alessandra had shot her to save Dario’s life – yet another reason we all loved her.

The Turk had also been mixed up with the Oldanis, a rival family out of Genoa –

But all of that had been patched up when it was discovered Alessandra was their long-lost granddaughter. Her mother had run away before Alessandra was born. Now that Alessandra and Dario were married, our families were allies.

Still… there had always been a lingering suspicion that the Turk had an unseen partner in the shadows.

“All I know,” Niccolo said, “is that you need to get your men back here RIGHT NOW.”

“I still have one more lead to run down.”

“Adriano – ”

“I’m serious. The girl we pulled out with us talked about a modeling agency. I want to go there before we leave town.”

“Alright,” Niccolo said grudgingly, “but get it done and then LEAVE.”

“I’ll keep you posted,” I said, then hung up.

“Back to the warehouse?” Giorgio asked.

“Not yet. Head for Fiesole first.”

Fiesole was a small neighborhood on the outskirts of Florence where the wealthiest people lived… including the Agrellas.

Which Massimo knew immediately, seeing as we’d been to weddings on their property over the years.

“NO,” he snapped.

“Just to look,” I said. “I’m not planning on raiding the compound or anything.”

“I’ll admit we got some great intel by going to the safe house, but we got lucky. This is pushing it.”

“We won’t do a damn thing. We’re just going up there to see if they’ve gone to the mattresses.”

‘Going to the mattresses’ was Cosa Nostra slang for hunkering down in times of war. Mafiosos would drag a bunch of mattresses into the central room of a house, and the foot soldiers would take turns keeping guard and sleeping in shifts.

“And how are we going to know that without getting close enough for them to see us?” Massimo snapped.

“Lars – you’ve got your sniper rifle in the trunk, right?” I asked.

“…yeah…?” he said warily.

“We can drive up to a nearby ridge, and you can take a look through that high-powered scope of yours.”

“And maybe take a shot at Domenic Agrella if the opportunity arises?” Massimo asked sarcastically.

“If the opportunity arises, sure,” I replied. “But if they’ve gone to the mattresses, we won’t see anything but low-level foot soldiers manning the gates.”

It turned out we didn’t even need the high-powered scope to figure out what was going on.

As we drove to Fiesole, something odd happened.

Police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances zoomed around us, sirens blasting.

“What the hell is going on?” Massimo murmured.

We were several miles out when we spied the orange glow against the night sky.

“Is that where I think it is?” I asked.

“…yeah,” Massimo answered in shock. “I think so.”

Giorgio drove into a neighborhood on a hill opposite the Agrellas’ compound, and we all got out of the car.

The air was thick with the smell of smoke.

Even without the rifle scope, we could see their entire mansion was ablaze.

Not just a part of it; every single section of the house was on fire. Flames leapt from all the windows and roared along the roof.

The only way that could have happened was arson.

“You think anybody made it out alive?” Massimo asked.

“I’m going to say ‘no,’” Lars said. “And I’ll bet good money it wasn’t the fire that killed them.”

We all stood there in silence…

Until I said, “I think we better get back to the warehouse. Now.”

20

Bianca

The doctor finished with both Cosimo and Elio.

I helped as much as I could, and I was glad to have the distraction –

Because an hour and a half after leaving, Vincenzo still hadn’t returned with my mother.

I tried calling her cell phone to find out what was going on –

But I got no reply.

My imagination began to run away with me. I imagined the most horrible things – like men with Uzis walking into the bar and slaughtering everyone inside.

Stupidly, neither Vincenzo nor I had thought to give him my cell phone number. Once I’d shown him my mother’s picture, he walked out.

I had no way to contact him – so I asked Elio if he could call Vincenzo.

“No,” he answered. “We don’t have everyone’s numbers, just our team lead.”

“What? Why?”

“In case we ever get arrested, our bosses don’t want the cops to be able to tie all of us together.”

“I thought you guys bribed the cops to leave you alone?!”

He shrugged. “Some of them. Not all of them.”

By the time Adriano walked in, I was frantic.

“Adriano!” I cried out.

He looked tired… drained… almost haunted. Gone was the fiery temper from earlier. It was like he’d seen something horrible –

Something even worse than what had happened at the hotel.

“What happened?” I asked, alarmed.

“Nothing,” he said. He gave me a strange look – probably a reaction to seeing me without my wig on for the first time. “Where’s your mother?”

“Vincenzo hasn’t come back with her yet!”

“How long ago did he leave?”

“Over an hour! I call her every five minutes, but she won’t answer!”

A shadow passed over his face as he glanced at Massimo and Lars.

Both men looked alarmed –

And all my worst fears were confirmed.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, then burst into tears.

“It’s fine, it’ll be fine,” Adriano said quietly. “I’ll call him – just calm down.”

I stifled my tears while he called Vincenzo, who answered immediately.

“Hey, boss.”

I could hear the raucous sounds of a bar as Adriano put him on speakerphone. “What the fuck’s going on? Why aren’t you back yet?”

“The old lady isn’t here.”

“What do you mean she isn’t there?!”

“She’s not here. I’ve been waiting for half an hour, but she hasn’t come in.”

“Why didn’t you go to her place?!”

“I, uh… I don’t know where she lives.”

“Why didn’t you call Bianca?!”

“I didn’t get her number. I realize now I should have, but I didn’t think about it at the time. I was just trying to get out the door as fast as possible – ”

“Please, we have to go check on her,” I begged Adriano.

“If you tell me where it is, I’ll go over there now.”

“No,” Adriano said, and my heart stopped. I was about to scream at him when he said, “I’m coming. Stay at the bar in case she shows up.”

Then he hung up and turned to me. “Give me the address and I’ll go get her myself.”

“I’m going with you,” I said.

“No – ”

“YES. She’s my MOTHER. I’ve done everything you asked – please. Please, I have to go with you.”

Adriano looked conflicted for a second… then nodded. “Alright. Let’s go.”

“That might not be the best choice,” Lars said.

He was trying to be diplomatic, but his meaning was clear:

We might find something horrible back at my parents’ apartment…

And he didn’t want me to see it.

Adriano smiled grimly. “Which is why you and Massimo are coming with me.”

Massimo’s ordinarily placid face grew angry. “We’ve got hired killers out there slaughtering Cosa Nostra, and you want us to go put ourselves in danger for a civilian?!”

Hired killers out there slaughtering Cosa Nostra.

I stared at him in horror.

Adriano didn’t see my reaction because he got right up in Massimo’s face. “If they’re after her mother, that means her mother is valuable. Which means she knows something. Which is something WE need to know. So let’s GO.”

Adriano took me by the arm and gently pulled me towards the stairs.

After a second’s hesitation, both Lars and Massimo followed behind us.

21

I rode in the back of the Mercedes with Adriano. Lars drove and Massimo sat beside him.

I tried to keep it together during the car ride – I really did.

But I also kept obsessively calling my mother’s phone every two minutes.

Adriano put his hand on mine.

“You’ve got to stop,” he said quietly.

“I’m just… I…”

“I know. But it’s going to be okay. I promise you I’m going to get her, and it’s going to be okay.”

I sobbed. “You don’t know that.”

“I know this: all we’ve got right now is hope. Don’t give that up until there’s no other choice.”

I looked deep into his eyes.

He was being so kind to me. He could have just thrown me out into the street to fend for myself.

I nodded and smiled through my tears. “Okay.”

Lars pulled the car up to the front of my parents’ building and we all got out.

Adriano, Lars, and Massimo pulled out pistols as we walked to the lobby door.

I punched in the code on the callbox, the door buzzed, and Adriano opened it. Then we continued inside and up the stairs.

As we reached the fourth floor, I suddenly froze.

“Oh shit!”

Adriano looked at me in alarm. “What?”

“My keys – they’re in my purse at the modeling agency!”

“You left your purse at the modeling agency?!”

“And my clothes, and my ID – ”

“Why?!”

“I couldn’t exactly bring everything with me – and I thought I was coming back right!”

“So you don’t have a way to get in?”

I shook my head miserably.

“Not a problem,” Massimo said. “What’s the apartment number?”

“412. Shouldn’t we knock, though?”

“No. If something’s wrong, we don’t want to let them know we’re coming.”

When we got to my parents’ door, Massimo tried the doorknob. Locked.

He mouthed One… two… three –

Then slammed into the door with all his weight.

The lock gave way and the door crashed in.

Massimo was inside first, followed by Adriano and Lars with their guns out –

And they all began yelling at the same time.

“Stop!”

“Don’t shoot!”

“Put it down!”

I rushed into the apartment behind them –

And my heart stopped when I saw who they were talking to.

Sergio Pasquarelli stood behind my mother, using her as a human shield.

He also held a gun to her head.

“MAMA!” I screamed.

My mother looked absolutely terrified. Tears were streaming down her face.

But to be honest, Sergio didn’t look much better.

Every time I’d seen him in the past, he’d always worn an expression of smug confidence…

But now he was panicking.

“I’ll kill her – I swear I’ll fuckin’ kill her – ”

“We don’t want you, man!” Adriano yelled. “We don’t care about you – we’re only here for her!”

“Put your guns down – I’ll kill her, I’ll fuckin’ kill her – ”

“Why are you here?” Lars yelled at Sergio.

The gangster laughed bitterly. “Why do you think?”

“To kill her?!” I screamed.

Sergio looked over at me in surprise. “No – to keep from bein’ killed!”

“Hold on,” Adriano said. “What’re you talking about?”

Sergio laughed again, though it sounded more like hysteria – like he was barely hanging on to his sanity. “You were there – you know!”

For the first time, I wondered if he was drunk… or maybe in shock.

“At the hotel?” Adriano asked.

“YES, at the hotel! You saw them – you killed some of them!” Sergio said, and then he sobbed. “And then they turned on us…”

“Who?! Who were they?!”

Sergio shook his head like a little boy. “I’m not supposed to tell…”

“You tell me who they were, and I’ll keep you safe.”

Sergio gave another frantic, half-insane laugh. “You can’t keep me safe. Not from the devil…”

“Who hired them?!” Adriano demanded.

Sergio shook his head again. “He’ll kill me if I tell.”

“Whoever he is, he already killed seven men in one of your safe houses,” Adriano snarled. “And he torched the Agrellas’ mansion in Fiesole. So if you want us to protect you, you need to tell me who did this.”

Sergio stared at him blankly. “…they’re dead…? Don Agrella is dead?”

“I don’t know for sure, but it didn’t look good. Now WHO DID THIS?”

Sergio looked at me, and the next words out of his mouth chilled me to my soul.

“They’re coming for her… because they want her father. He’s the only one who knows. But I got her mother, so now I’ve got somethin’ to bargain with.”

“Bargain with me,” Adriano said forcefully. “I’ll keep you safe – bargain with me.”

“I told you… you can’t keep me safe,” Sergio whimpered. “He’s the devil… he’s the fuckin’ devil…”

What happened next was pure coincidence.

It was a simple thing, but it happened at precisely the right moment.

Or wrong moment, depending on your point of view.

The door – which Massimo had broken through – shifted or something, but it began to close…

Which made the hinges creak loudly.

Sergio was so on edge that he whipped his gun towards the door as though he was expecting the ‘devil’ he kept talking about to appear.

Massimo and Lars glanced back to see what the creaking noise was, obviously afraid someone might have snuck up on us –

But not Adriano.

Adriano pulled the trigger.

BLAM!

Sergio’s head snapped back in a spray of blood and he collapsed to the ground.

My mother fell on top of him, dragged down by his arm around her neck.

I screamed, too, afraid that Adriano might have hit her.

I ran over to her shrieking, “Mama – MAMA – ”

But she was moving and crying and making noise.

Sergio wasn’t.

I collapsed onto the floor next to her and pulled her into my arms. “Mama, are you okay?! Are you okay?!”

“Yes, yes – Blessed Virgin – ”

Behind me, I heard Massimo yell, “WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT?!”

Adriano ignored him and hurried over to me. “Is she alright?”

I looked up at him, nodded through my tears, and silently mouthed Thank you.

He nodded somberly.

Then he turned back to face his brother’s wrath.

“WHY?” Massimo yelled again.

“I had the shot,” Adriano said coldly. “So I took it.”

“He was our only lead to who’s behind all this!”

“We’ve got the mother – ”

“You heard him – she doesn’t know anything!”

“If we can get the father, then – ”

“WE DON’T HAVE THE FATHER!” Massimo roared. “But we had HIM!”

There was murder in Adriano’s eyes as he said, “I told you already: I had the shot, so I took it. Now stop talking about it.”

Massimo looked like he wanted to slam his fist through Adriano’s face, but he reigned in his anger.

Adriano continued. “You and Lars are going to take Bianca, her mother, and everybody else back home.”

Massimo suddenly looked confused. “By ‘everybody else,’ you mean – ”

“Our men. All of them. You’re getting what you wanted, Mass – I’m pulling you out of Florence.”

“What about you?”

“I’m going to find her father.”

“What?!”

“I’ll go with you,” I said from the floor where I still held my mother.

Adriano turned back to me. “No – ”

“You don’t know anything about him!” I protested. “You don’t even know what he looks like!”

Adriano glanced at a nearby shelf and snatched up a picture in a small metal frame. “Now I do.”

“That was from ten years ago – he looks way older now.”

“Close enough.”

“You don’t know his name, you don’t know where he hangs out – I know all of that! I can help you!”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“What, worse than a bunch of guys with Uzis shooting at me?!”

“You have no idea what you’re – ”

“I have to find my father. PLEASE. Let me help you.”

Adriano stared at me… then finally relented.

“Alright,” he muttered as he tossed the picture onto the couch.

At the most inopportune moment, my mother suddenly took a good look at me. “Bianca… what in the world are you wearing?”

I looked down.

I still had on my leather dominatrix outfit.

Thank goodness I’d ditched the blue wig.

“You look like a streetwalker!”

“Mama, now is not the time!”

“Go grab some clothes – we gotta get out of here,” Adriano ordered. Then he held out a hand to my mother on the floor. “You, too, ma’am.”

Mama looked up at him distrustfully.

She glanced over at me for a sign.

When I nodded, she took Adriano’s hand.

He helped her up to her feet. “Go pack. Quickly. Both of you.”

I nodded, and my mother and I rushed to our rooms.

22

Adriano

While Bianca and her mother were packing, Massimo took the opportunity to rip me a new asshole.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!”

“I told you, we’re not talking about this anymore.”

“Yes we ARE,” Massimo snarled. “You’re the capo of Florence – you’re supposed to look out for the family, not for some whore!”

I don’t know why, but that enraged me. “She’s not a WHORE.”

Massimo looked bewildered. “What’s gotten into you?! You’ve made every bad decision in the book tonight – ”

“Like what?” I shot back.

“You didn’t go back to the house like Niccolo ordered – ”

“We would’ve looked weak.”

“To WHO?! They’re all dead!”

“Which we wouldn’t know if we hadn’t gone to the safe house – which YOU didn’t want to do.

“And we wouldn’t know the Agrellas are dead if we hadn’t gone to Fiesole, which YOU didn’t want to do, either.

“Thanks to ME, now we know there’s somebody else out there who wants us dead.

“So YEAH, I took some big risks – but every single one of them paid off.”

“You got lucky,” Massimo said sourly.

“Three times in a row? That’s not luck; that’s skill.”

“And that’s delusional,” Lars said.

It was the first time he’d spoken since I’d shot Sergio.

“Oh, you too?” I snapped at him.

“The smart play would have been to take Sergio alive. You just blew the best piece of intel we had.”

“He could’ve killed the mother!”

“Which would have been horrible, but she’s not family, Adriano.”

I scoffed. “You always talk about how you don’t kill women or children – but you’re fine just standing by and letting somebody else kill them, huh?”

Lars narrowed his eyes. “Fuck you.”

“No, fuck you, man. You’re a hired gun and this is family business, so stay the fuck out of it.”

Lars had a damn good poker face, but after nearly a year of living and fighting next to him, I knew him well – and I could tell by the look in his eyes that I’d hurt him.

I immediately regretted it.

He said nothing, though, and I knew he wouldn’t.

I was just about to take it back when Massimo shoved my shoulder.

“You little shit!” he snarled. “Lars has saved our lives a dozen times! He’s as much a brother to me as you are, and he’s ten times smarter! How fucking dare you – ”

I slammed Massimo’s arm away. “Get your fuckin’ hands off me!”

“Then get your fuckin’ act together!”

I stood there and looked at him coldly. “Go back home, Mass. That’s a direct order. Take the men and Bianca’s mother and go back home.”

Massimo scoffed. “And you’re gonna stay here and find the father.”

“Yeah. I am.”

He shook his head. “You don’t deserve to be capo.”

“Well, I am. And until Dario changes that, you’re still under my command, and you still follow my orders.”

“What, like you followed Niccolo’s orders?” Massimo snapped.

“I went over Niccolo’s head to the don, and the don agreed with me,” I said in an ice-cold voice. “You’re welcome to do the same.”

“I will,” Massimo snarled. He pulled out his phone and walked off into the kitchen.

I nervously watched him go. I’d mouthed off again – and there was every chance in the world that Dario would cut me off at the knees and side with the others.

I might’ve just made a huge mistake.

I knew I’d made another one just a minute before.

I looked over at Lars. “…I shouldn’t have what I said about you.”

That was as close to I’m sorry as I’d ever said in my life.

Lars looked at me for a long moment.

Then he said quietly, “You can say whatever you want.”

His refusal to accept my apology just made me madder. “It was the heat of the moment. I said some shit I didn’t mean, that’s all.”

“If you’re going to be capo, there’s going to be lots of ‘heat of the moment’ situations. Don’t use that as an excuse.”

THAT pissed me off.

“You know what? Fuck you,” I snarled. “Go back to Tuscany with the rest of them and fuck off.”

“We’ll see what Dario has to say,” Lars replied as he looked over at the kitchen.

I turned to see Massimo walking back towards us.

He looked sullen as hell as he shoved his phone back in his pocket.

My heart lifted, but I didn’t let on. Instead I asked belligerently, “Well?”

Massimo wouldn’t look at me. He focused on Lars instead. “The don said Adriano’s the family’s representative in Florence… and what he says goes.”

Relief flooded my entire body.

At least one of my brothers had my back.

Lars nodded. “Well then, I guess we’re headed back home.” He turned to me. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

“No – I haven’t,” I snarled.

“Alright,” Lars said. “That settles it, then.”

“Yeah, it does. Massimo, call Vincenzo and tell him to leave the bar. Lars, you call the warehouse and have everybody ready to pull out in 30 minutes. I’ll get the women and we’ll go.”

23

Bianca

I knew something big had changed between Adriano and the others. An icy silence filled the car on the trip back to the warehouse.

I looked at him questioningly, but he gave me a subtle shake of his head. Not now.

I nodded and just held my mother.

When we got to the warehouse, all the men were bustling around and packing the cars – including the ones riddled with bullet holes.

Adriano stepped out of the Mercedes and clapped his hands once to get everybody’s attention.

All the men stopped what they were doing and turned to watch him.

“I’m sending you guys back to the family compound. I want you to know it wasn’t anything you did. It’s a strategic choice, and that’s all. There’s somebody out there gunning for our family, and we don’t know who it is.

“What we do know is they wiped out the Agrellas’ entire organization in one night. Some of you saw the safe house, and I’m sure the rest of you heard about it. We also think they killed Don Agrella and his entire family.”

The men muttered and looked at each other in shock.

“That’s why you’re going home – so we can plan the next move. I just want you to know that I couldn’t be prouder of you guys. I pushed you hard tonight. I made you take some big risks, and you came through for me. All of you. Thank you. I’ll remember what you did tonight, I promise. Now get outta here and get home safe.”

The men started piling into the cars. Dario went and talked one-on-one with Cosimo and Elio, the two men who had been shot.

I could see his respect for them in how he carried himself – the way he shook hands with both of them.

Then he came back to me, my mother, Lars, and Massimo.

“Take Bianca’s mom back with you and keep her safe, alright?” he asked Massimo and Lars. “I know I pissed off both of you tonight, but I’m asking you as a personal favor – make sure she’s safe, okay?”

“You know we will,” Lars said.

“Of course,” Massimo said sourly, like he was annoyed Adriano had suggested it might be otherwise.

“Alright.” Adriano turned to my mom. “My family’s gonna take care of you, and I’m gonna take care of your daughter, okay? If your husband calls you on your cell phone, you tell my brothers immediately. And you tell your husband we’ll guarantee his safety, okay? If he won’t listen, tell him to call Bianca, and she and I will go get him. Alright?”

My mother still looked terrified – but now she also looked confused. She was used to dealing with Sergio and the Agrellas, who were complete assholes. To be treated with respect by a mafioso was a new and bewildering experience for her.

To be honest, I was having trouble wrapping my head around it myself.

She looked at me.

“It’s okay, Mama,” I said. “You can trust him.”

“Bianca… please, come with us,” she pleaded.

“I can’t – I’ve got to find Papa. You know that.”

She started crying and hugged me. “He doesn’t deserve you…”

I laughed. “He doesn’t deserve you, either. Now go with them and I’ll see you soon. I promise.”

She cried a little bit more, gave me one last hug, and allowed Lars to lead her away.

As Massimo was walking off, I put my hand on his arm to stop him.

He looked down at me dourly.

“I know the situation isn’t what you wanted… but thank you,” I told him.

Immediately his face softened a little, and he nodded.

“You’re welcome.” Then he looked off to the side at someone. “But you should really be thanking him.”

I glanced over to see who he meant, although I already knew.

It was Adriano, who was off talking to one of his men.

Massimo smiled slightly. “Don’t worry… I’ll keep your mother safe.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded again, then got in the back seat with my mother and shut the door.

Adriano banged his hand on the roof of the lead car as a sign – Okay, go!

Then the fleet of Mercedes all pulled out into the alleyway and disappeared into the night.

I waved to my mother, but the windows were all tinted black. I couldn’t see her wave back.

As the car drove away, I felt a curious mixture of sadness… and relief.

At least she was safe.

Now I just had to find my father.

I looked over at Adriano, who was lowering the garage doors by tugging on their chains.

When all but one were closed, he looked at me. “Alright, let’s go.”

There was a single car left in the garage. He grabbed my small suitcase and put it in the trunk.

I was about to open the passenger door when he beat me to it and held it open for me.

“What a gentleman,” I teased him.

“Just get in,” he said gruffly.

I did. He shut the door, then got in the driver’s seat and pulled out into the alley.

He hopped out, left the car running, and shut the last garage door. Then he came out of a side entrance and got in the car.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“A safe place I know.”

“To start looking for my father?”

“No. To get some rest. We’ll start looking for him in the morning.”

24

Adriano

I couldn’t go back to my apartment in Florence. If the assassins had known where the Agrellas lived, there was a good chance they knew about my place, too.

There were a lot of seedy hotels we could have crashed at – but the Agrellas controlled nearly all of them because of their prostitution ring.

Don Agrella and his brothers might have been dead, but a night clerk could still call the wrong people and tip them off we were there.

So I went for the backup plan.

I drove us to a cottage on the outskirts of Florence. Our family kept several of them in the suburbs as last-ditch safe houses; this was one of them. The property listing was under a fake name, and no one had ever seen me there before.

Perfect for some rest before things got really rough.

It was 4AM when we walked in. I let Bianca in through the front door and locked the three deadbolts behind us. The door was solid enough that not even a bruiser like Massimo could kick it in.

Not only that, but all the windows were bulletproof.

If the mystery assassins had tailed us here, I would at least hear them coming.

“There’s canned food in the kitchen and sodas in the fridge,” I told Bianca.

“No thanks, I’m exhausted,” she said, her eyes barely open. “I just want to sleep.”

“Alright. If you want a shower, there’s one in the bedroom. There should be towels under the sink.”

While she stashed her suitcase, I went to the kitchen and got a bottle of bourbon. It had been a hell of a night, and a drink was long overdue.

She appeared at the entry to the kitchen as I was pouring myself a glass.

I’d been surprised when I first saw her back at the warehouse without her wig. She had long, curly brown hair that was absolutely beautiful.

Even with her hair all over the place and her makeup a mess, she looked hot as hell.

But I shook it off and asked, “What’s up?”

“Um… is there only one bedroom?”

“Yeah?” I said, like So?

“…so… there’s only one bed?”

I saw what she was getting at.

Jesus.

“I’ll sleep on the sofa,” I snapped.

“No, no, it’s fine…”

I could tell she was taken aback by my tone, so I reeled it in a bit.

“I can sleep anywhere,” I said. “It’s no big deal.”

“No, no, it’s a big bed… I was just checking,” she said, then looked at my glass of bourbon. “You, uh… got some more of that?”

“Need a drink, huh.”

“It’s been quite a night.”

“That it has.” I handed her my glass and reached for another in the cabinet.

She took a sip and murmured, “Holy shit…”

I grinned as I poured some more for me. “Good stuff, right?”

“What is that?!”

“Twenty-year-old Kentucky bourbon. Pappy Van Winkle.”

“That’s the best I’ve ever tasted… it’s so smooth…”

“You like bourbon?”

“Not usually, but I like this.”

“I have ‘em stock a bottle for me in every property we own. If I gotta stay in a shithole like this, at least I can have a good drink.”

She looked around the house. “I don’t think it’s a shithole. I think it’s nice. Could use a little decorating, though.”

I realized that the place was as big as her parents’ apartment – and probably bigger than wherever she currently lived.

“It’s fine,” I backtracked. “I’m just used to slightly better accommodations, that’s all.”

“You must have a mansion, huh.”

“My family has a mansion. I just grew up there.”

“Is that where they’re taking my mother?”

“Yeah.”

“She’ll think she’s died and gone to heaven.”

“It should be a nice vacation for her.”

Bianca’s face softened. “Thank you. For keeping her safe.”

I shrugged. “Thank me once we’ve got your father.”

She looked worried. “Do you… do you think…”

“He’s fine,” I reassured her. “We’ll find him.”

We both knew the odds of that were pretty slim. At least… the odds of finding him alive.

“All we’ve got right now is hope,” she said softly. “Don’t give that up until there’s no other choice.”

It took me a second before I realized she was quoting something I’d said earlier.

“That’s right,” I agreed. “I said I’d get your mom back safe – and I did, didn’t I?”

She nodded.

“So believe me when I say I’m gonna get your dad back safe and sound, too.”

Her eyes filled with tears and she smiled at me. Then she nodded. Okay.

I gave her a smile back.

She stood there gazing at me…

And I stood there gazing at her…

Until she downed the rest of her bourbon in one gulp.

“Thanks for the drink. I’m gonna go take that shower now.”

I nodded, and she turned and walked away.

God DAMN.

I might’ve been imagining it…

But I could’ve sworn there was a spark between us.

However, now was not the time.

Besides, I was probably misreading it.

She’d been through a lot tonight.

Getting shot at…

Watching people die…

Her father disappearing…

Seeing her mom held at gunpoint…

She’d been through more than most civilians ever go through their entire lives, and all in one night.

She was probably pretty fucked up.

Not a good idea to try anything…

No matter how hot she was.

So I just downed my bourbon and poured myself another.

25

Bianca

The shower was the best I’d ever had.

Not because the bathroom was luxurious; it wasn’t. Nothing special.

It was the best of my life for one single reason: as the hot water rushed over me, all the tension and terror from the last eight hours started to fade away.

I turned it up as hot as it could go and stood there with my face in the water, letting it roar over my ears and block out everything else.

All the muscles in my back and neck gradually begin to relax.

Adriano’s delicious bourbon hadn’t hurt, either.

Adriano…

As I let the water wash over me, I started thinking about him.

I didn’t get him. Not at all.

He was a walking contradiction… an impossible puzzle.

One minute he was a furious, shouting monster –

And then he was unexpectedly kind.

He could be a total dick one second –

And then a real sweetheart the next. (Even if he did try to hide it under his gruff behavior.)

I remembered the way he’d bantered with me at the hotel.

I’d thought he was an asshole at the time, sure…

But I’d also thought he was hot.

However, I never would have guessed that he was kind.

Or that he would go to such lengths to keep me safe.

Especially the way he’d taken up for my mother against Massimo and Lars.

The way he’d shot Sergio to protect her –

Sergio.

Horrible memories flooded back into my brain:

The hotel –

Gunshots –

Breaking glass –

Falling out the window –

into his arms

he caught me

A gun to Mama’s head –

Adriano firing –

he saved her

Sergio’s head snapping back –

Blood in the air –

My mother screaming and falling to the ground –

I was back there in the middle of it all, and it felt like it was happening to me again.

I started hyperventilating and sobbing all at once.

I pulled away from the hot water, put my head against the cool tiles of the shower wall, and tried to control my panic.

It took several minutes, but I finally calmed down.

Just focus on the water.

Feel it running over your shoulders.

You’re safe.

Mama’s safe.

Adriano’s going to help find Papa, and then HE’LL be safe.

It’s going to be okay.

Don’t give up hope –

It’s going to be okay.

It took me another five minutes before I could manage to get out of the shower.

26

I came out of the bathroom with a towel covering my body and another around my hair –

And immediately gave out a little cry.

Adriano was standing by the bed.

His rumpled suit and dress shirt were draped over a chair in the corner.

He’d removed all his clothes except for a pair of black boxer briefs…

And he was gorgeous.

His olive skin rippled with muscles.

He had huge arms… an incredible six-pack… broad shoulders and a powerful back…

And he had tattoos. Just a few on his arms and body, but there was a large cross between his shoulder blades.

My eyes went back to his tight-fitting boxer briefs.

They strained to contain his powerful thighs.

I also couldn’t help but notice his astoundingly great ass…

As well as the sizeable bulge in the front of his briefs.

Like… a big bulge.

I stared at it for a second and felt my face growing hot.

Then I immediately snapped my eyes up to his face and saw he was looking at me.

If he knew I’d been eyeing the goods, he didn’t let on.

“You finished?” he asked as he brushed past me.

I nodded quickly. “Uh-huh.”

“Alright, I’m gonna take a quick shower,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

“Okay,” I squeaked, even though he was already gone.

I hurriedly went over to my suitcase and grabbed the oversized t-shirt I’d brought to sleep in.

27

Adriano

Madonn…

As soon as Bianca came out of the bathroom, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

She’d washed her face and her skin was dewy.

Most women looked better in makeup, but there were a few who were even more beautiful without it.

Bianca was one of the latter.

She was gorgeous.

And the sight of her in that towel… the swell of her breasts just barely covered…

And her long legs under the edge…

I started to get hard.

Not exactly what I wanted at that particular moment.

You know… what with her dad missing and her mom nearly getting killed an hour earlier.

So I thought fast.

“You finished?” I asked as I brushed past her.

I hadn’t planned to take a shower, but I needed to get out of there before I popped a boner.

“Uh-huh.”

“Alright, I’m gonna take a quick shower,” I said as I shut the door behind me.

As long as I was in here, I might as well wash off the sweat and grime.

I peeled off my underwear.

Good thing I got out of there in time – I was sporting at least a three-quarters erection.

Damn…

What a woman…

28

Bianca

I lay there in the dark with my mind racing.

The images of Adriano’s body lingered for a while…

And then they were replaced with other things.

Far worse things.

I kept returning to the hotel room…

Hearing the gunshots…

Kept finding myself back in my parents’ apartment…

Watching helplessly as Sergio held a gun to my mother’s head…

Then another gunshot –

His head snapping back –

I squeezed my eyes tight and tried to block it all out.

That’s when Adriano came out of the shower.

He had toweled off and was wearing the same black boxer briefs…

But his wet hair was swept back from his face.

I couldn’t see much. After all, he was basically just a silhouette against the bathroom light.

But I could see his gorgeous profile, that strong jaw…

And the outline of his muscular body.

Then he snapped off the light and made his way to the other side of the bed.

“I can go sleep on the sofa,” he offered. “If you wanna be alone.”

I shuddered under the sheets as I thought about the hotel… Sergio… the gunshots…

“I don’t think I want to be alone,” I murmured. “Not after everything that happened tonight.”

“Okay,” he said, and I felt the sheets move.

The mattress rocked under his weight as he settled in.

“Goodnight,” he said.

“Goodnight.”

We lay there in the darkness for a few seconds…

And then the thoughts started to come back.

In the dark room, the images played in my mind like a movie projected in a theater.

I wanted more than anything to distract myself, so I said, “Adriano?”

“…yeah?”

“How are we going to find my father?”

“Well… you said you knew all his hangouts, so I figured we’d hit those up. And I got a few other options I’m thinking of. Sooner or later we’ll turn up a lead.”

“…okay.”

Another few seconds passed.

The disturbing thoughts were back… but I berated myself.

Let the man sleep, Bianca. Leave him alone.

Suddenly he said, “Are you going to be able to fall asleep?”

Like he knew what I was struggling with.

“Well… I’m exhausted… but my mind is racing. I can’t shut it off.”

“Yeah,” he murmured in the dark. “I know that feeling. It used to happen to me in the past when… when stuff happened.”

“What kind of stuff?” I asked, although I could guess what he was talking about.

“Stuff like tonight.”

“But it doesn’t happen anymore?”

“I’ve gotten used to it over the years. Now it doesn’t affect me as much.”

“…oh.”

Another silence.

Gunshots –

Sergio –

My mother –

“You need another drink?” he offered. “Something to help you go to sleep?”

His voice was so kind.

“I…”

And then I started trembling.

Just uncontrollably shaking.

“I… I…”

The bed shifted, and I felt his hand on my shoulder.

“Hey… hey. Come here,” he whispered.

He rolled me over so that I was facing him –

And one strong arm dipped between me and the mattress…

And the other looped over my body and pulled me into him.

I felt the warmth of his bare skin –

And I felt safe.

Safe enough to let go.

I broke down sobbing into his chest.

“It’s okay… it’s okay,” he whispered into my ear. “I got you… you’re safe… just let it out. Let it all out. It’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay.”

He kept whispering into my ear and rubbing my back softly…

So comforting…

So strong and protective…

That I just melted into him.

Eventually I stopped crying and just sniffled.

“I’m sorry…” I whispered.

“Don’t be sorry. You’ve been through hell today. You’re doing great.”

I laughed through my tears. “No I’m not.”

“Yes you are. Most people will never go through one percent of what you did tonight. You did great.”

“…really?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“I…”

And then I felt something.

Something rather…

Stiff.

And big.

Pressing against my leg.

He immediately pulled his lower body away.

I looked up at him.

There was a tiny bit of moonlight shining through the window. My eyes had adjusted enough to the low light that I could make out his face.

He stared at me…

I was breathing heavily…

And then he moved his head forward and kissed me.

I closed my eyes and completely surrendered to him.

His lips were soft and warm…

He tasted like that amazing bourbon, like vanilla…

And I opened my mouth to him.

His tongue slowly touched mine…

Sensual…

Sexual…

And then he pulled away.

I opened my eyes. “What? What’s wrong?”

He stared deep into my soul. “Are you sure? You’ve been through a lot.”

I swallowed hard.

“I don’t want to remember any of it,” I whispered. “I don’t want to feel any of it. Just… make me feel something else.”

My wish was granted…

…in a more spectacular fashion than I could have ever imagined.

29

Adriano went back to kissing me…

And I felt his hands slide down to my ass.

As he continued to French kiss me, he slowly lifted up the hem of my shirt…

And his fingers touched my bare skin.

His strong hands closed around my ass cheeks, gripping them… cupping them…

And I felt his fingers move between my thighs.

His fingertips touched my pussy from behind…

Just a whisper of a caress.

“Mmm,” I moaned softly into his mouth.

His fingers began to stroke my lips…

And I could feel myself getting wet.

We were still kissing, although it was growing more heated.

I reached up to his chest and felt his pecs, solid and powerful.

My hand drifted down his abdomen and felt the ridges of his six-pack.

I got even wetter.

I kept going –

And stopped in shock just a second later.

I had expected to get down to his underwear before I reached his cock –

But it was already standing up straight, right there next to his abs.

I could feel the big, swollen head…

And I could feel wet pre-cum already beading on his tip.

I broke off the kiss, looked down in surprise, and gasped.

His cock…

Wow.

It was jutting up out of his underwear and was pressed flat against his abs.

It was long…

And thick…

And MUCH bigger than anything I’d run across before.

I wasn’t super experienced, mind you. Four boyfriends since I was 17, so it wasn’t like I had a huge sample size…

But I’d seen some stuff on the internet.

And Adriano could have been a porn star, no problem.

My draw dropped open. “…oh…”

He grinned and pulled his underwear off, slipping it down his powerful legs and throwing it to the floor.

Once his cock was freed, it looked even bigger.

I gently grasped it…

And his girth filled up my entire hand.

My fingers barely fit around it.

His skin was silky soft…

But hard as iron underneath.

And hot. Warmth radiated from his cock.

I slowly stroked up and down his shaft…

Loving the feel of something so big in my hand…

And I got even wetter the more I touched him.

Suddenly he was tugging at my t-shirt, lifting it up.

I reluctantly let go of his cock and raised my arms so he could pull it over my head.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he stared at my tits.

I grinned, then gasped as he lowered his head and began kissing them.

Soft at first…

Then his tongue licked my nipple…

Wetly lapping at it…

And he took me into his mouth and started sucking.

“Oh God,” I moaned.

While he was kissing my breasts, his right hand trailed down my belly to the front of my legs…

And I raised my left leg so he could touch me.

His fingers found my pussy and began to stroke me softly.

I moaned…

Then moaned some more as one finger found my clit.

He began to circle it…

Caressing the hood…

Making me tingle with pleasure.

He rubbed me with his fingertip, slippery with my own wetness.

Three of my exes hadn’t even been able to find my clit…

But Adriano was obviously an expert.

I moaned and clutched his strong shoulders and muscular back.

Then he lifted his face from my breasts and began kissing me again…

But he shifted over on top of me…

His body between my open legs…

And I felt his cock touch my pussy.

For a split second, I thought about saying Wait – condom –

But I was on birth control. I had been since I was 19.

And I didn’t care.

I was beyond caring.

Everything he’d done to me felt SO good that it turned my brain to jelly.

And I wanted to forget everything but the feel of his body.

I wanted to blot out everything but pleasure…

And so I let him put it inside me without a condom.

Seconds later, I was so glad I did.

There is nothing like the feel of skin on skin…

And the sensations as his cock touched my wet pussy…

It was indescribable.

His big, thick head pressing into me –

Too much at first, and I gasped –

But then his tip was inside me and he just kept going.

I couldn’t believe it…

The pressure…

The pleasure…

The feeling of being completely filled up…

And it kept going…

And going…

And going.

Finally he stopped.

He was so deep inside me…

Deeper than anyone had ever been before…

Bigger…

Thicker…

And so much better than I’d ever felt before…

And then, as he kissed me…

He began to move.

Rocking back and forth…

I could feel every inch of him.

I was so incredibly wet that he effortlessly slid in and out, no matter how huge he was.

I gasped –

It was so intense –

And then he began to thrust.

No more gentle rocking.

Fucking.

And I loved it.

“OH GOD!” I cried out as he began to pound me hard.

My breasts wobbled back and forth on my chest –

One of his hands reached up under my ass and stroked my pussy lips, which bulged around his thick shaft –

And he lowered his mouth and began sucking on one of my tits –

All while he kept fucking me HARD.

I screamed and raked my fingernails down his back –

And then suddenly he stopped…

Started again slow…

And kissed me deep and romantically.

He began to rotate his hips, ‘swirling’ his cock inside me…

Touching spots no one had before…

Giving me pleasure in places I’d never known existed…

And then suddenly he began fucking me again, hard.

I was so wet that I could hear his body slapping against mine, fwop fwop fwop –

And I felt warmth and pleasure building, and building, and BUILDING inside me –

“Oh god!” I cried out. “I’m gonna come – I’m gonna come – ”

He grinned as he kept thrusting. “Come for me, baby.”

And with those words, I tipped over the edge –

And exploded.

I screamed, my entire body tensing as ecstasy rolled over me in waves.

It was better than anything I’d ever felt in my life.

I couldn’t think.

All I knew was that every inch of me was pure pleasure, all of it radiating out from my pussy and his gorgeous cock inside me.

And then he came, too.

“Fuck – fuck – FUCK!” he bellowed.

I felt him pulse inside me, over and over –

His cum spurting inside me, a jet of hot liquid –

Which turned my fading orgasm back into a raging bonfire.

“OH FUCK!” I screamed out, and raked my fingernails down his back. “FUUUUCK!”

The second orgasm was even more intense than the first.

But eventually it began to ebb…

And his thrusting slowed down…

From twice a second… to once a second… then once every couple of seconds…

Until he stopped moving, and I could just feel the occasional spasm of his cock inside me.

His mouth was next to my ear as he breathed hard…

And then he lifted his head and kissed me.

Soft, and slow, and sensual.

We lay like that for at least five minutes… kissing… him still inside me…

Until he finally pulled out and collapsed next to me.

I felt a pang… a sadness that it was over…

And I thought he would just fall asleep like most of my exes had done.

But he didn’t.

He turned me over on my side and nestled up behind me.

He was the big spoon and I was the little spoon…

And he draped his muscular arm over me.

He kissed my neck…

And I sighed happily.

Besides bathing in the afterglow of the most incredible orgasm I’d ever had…

I also felt safer than I ever had before.

His strong arm around me was like a shield against everything scary.

My mind was blank, wiped clean of any bad memories… unable to focus on anything but his warm, muscular body pressed against mine.

I dropped off into a dreamless sleep just a few minutes later.

30

The next morning was… awkward.

I woke up with dappled sunlight shining in through the window.

I opened my eyes a crack and was immediately confused by the unfamiliar surroundings.

Where am I? I thought drowsily –

Then memories of the previous night came flooding back.

The hotel –

The gunfight –

Sergio –

And Adriano fucking me.

At that point, my eyes opened wide.

Oh SHIT.

I couldn’t believe I’d done that.

I’d slept with a guy the first night I’d met him –

And worst of all, a GANGSTER.

A mafioso.

The type of person I hated because of what they’d done to my father.

But…

Adriano was going to help me find my father.

So…

Was he really a bad guy?

He couldn’t be!

He’d saved my life at the hotel!

More importantly, he’d saved my mother’s life, even though it had cost him with his family.

He was okay…

…right?

I really wanted him to be a good guy, deep down…

Because I really didn’t want to admit to myself I’d slept with a shitty, horrible person.

And…

…if I’m being truthful…

…because it had been the best sex of my life.

I could still feel a pleasant ache inside me, a gentle throbbing between my legs.

It reminded me of him being inside me.

He’d been so big…

And soooooo good.

But…

I couldn’t do that again.

I shouldn’t have done it in the first place.

Not if he was like the assholes who had taken advantage of my father all these years…

And made him and my mother miserable…

And turned Florence into a cesspool of corruption.

I lay there thinking all of this…

And then I realized he was probably in the bed with me.

OH SHIT.

I was still naked, too.

OH SHIT, OH SHIT –

I felt like I was in a horror movie again –

Except this time the heroine’s life wasn’t in danger.

No…

She just finds herself in the most awkward situation imaginable.

I very, very slowly looked over my shoulder.

My heart was thudding in my chest…

Because I was expecting to find him staring at me with those gorgeous, smoldering eyes.

He’d be naked, too –

And he’d already be hard, with his huge, gorgeous cock ready to go.

He’d reach out to touch me –

And I wasn’t sure if I would be able to resist him.

It was going to be horrible –

I couldn’t escape –

But I looked anyway –

…and he wasn’t there.

The bed was empty.

I felt relief… and also terrible disappointment.

Sad trombone sound: whomp WHOMP.

I got out of bed and walked over to the bathroom.

Every step I took triggered that pleasant ache between my legs.

I kept remembering how he’d thrust so deep inside me –

And made me come so hard –

Oh SHIT –

I let him come inside me!

I could feel something trickling down my thigh.

His cum –

OH SHIT.

I wasn’t worried about getting pregnant. I was on the NuvaRing, which was good for five weeks –

But…

You know.

STDs and whatnot.

The only thing was, even though I knew I shouldn’t…

I kind of wanted to feel him come inside me again.

Last night, I had already orgasmed when he started coming.

The noises he’d made…

And the sensation of him spurting inside me…

It had been such a turn-on that it made me immediately climax again.

And even harder.

I was breathing heavily by the time I grasped the bathroom doorknob.

Then I froze.

Oh shit… could he be inside?

I didn’t hear the shower –

But that didn’t mean anything.

Maybe he was naked in there.

I was naked.

If he saw me naked, would he get hard?

Or maybe he had morning wood.

Maybe his cock was already stiff –

Should I knock?

I probably should –

But if I knocked and he said Don’t come in, then I wouldn’t get to see…

And if he really didn’t want me to see, he’d have locked the door.

Right?

So I tried the doorknob.

It turned, and I pushed the door open, my heart beating wildly –

…but the bathroom was empty.

Whomp WHOMP.

Damn it.

I turned on the water and got into the shower…

But I left the door unlocked.

Just in case he needed something in the bathroom.

Like me.

31

Sadly, he apparently did not need anything in the bathroom.

Whomp WHOMP.

I quickly cleaned myself up and toweled off.

There were cellophane-wrapped packs of toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste on the counter, so I brushed my teeth, too.

Then I dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt and walked out of the bedroom.

I immediately smelled freshly brewed espresso.

My heart was thudding nervously in my chest as I walked down the short hallway into the main room –

And I stopped breathing.

He was sitting at a small table in the kitchen, scowling over his phone, a cup of coffee next to him.

And he was shirtless.

He was wearing his pants from last night but nothing else.

The morning sunshine on his skin…

The way his hair fell over his forehead…

The way his muscles rippled…

He looked like a male model.

Or a bad boy movie star.

Definitely the hottest guy I had ever seen in the flesh.

Not to mention slept with.

And got multiple orgasms from.

It didn’t help matters that I knew what he was packing under those pants.

And here I was, like a dork, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt.

He glanced up, looked at me – and froze.

His eyes roved over my body…

And then he looked into my eyes.

“Good morning,” he said, though he didn’t smile when he said it. His tone was completely neutral.

“Good morning,” I said as nonchalantly as I could. “Any more coffee?”

“No, but I’ll make you some,” he said as he stood up from his chair.

His arms flexed deliciously…

His chest bulged…

And his six-pack was on full display.

Oh my god.

I was already getting wet…

And I wasn’t wearing any underwear.

Thank god my sweatpants were black…

“I can get it,” I said as I turned quickly and went over to the espresso machine.

“I don’t think you’ll know how to work it,” he said as he padded over in his bare feet.

That annoyed me. “I think I can figure it out – ”

And then I saw the espresso machine.

It was one of those high-end things you see in coffee shops, with a ton of levers and buttons. It probably cost at least $5000.

I had no idea how to work it.

He walked over next to me and reached for a canister next to the machine. “Unless you worked as a barista, I kind of doubt it.”

He was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with me…

And at this distance, I could smell him.

He hadn’t taken a shower yet, and he smelled like sex.

Like me.

Like us.

There was a musky scent of his own that drove me wild…

And I immediately wanted him to bend me over the counter, yank down my sweat pants, and take me.

But he didn’t.

He just opened up the canister and poured some coffee beans into a grinder. “We don’t really have anything good for breakfast.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, trying not to betray how turned on I was by him.

“There’s some protein bars if you’re starving, but I was thinking we could go to a café. There’s a good one nearby.”

“Uh-huh…”

“We can talk… about…”

He trailed off.

I glanced over to see what had made him stop.

He was staring down at my chest.

I looked down –

And realized my nipples were hard and poking out through the thin material of the t-shirt.

It was a tight t-shirt.

Did I mention that?

And I wasn’t wearing a bra.

I know I didn’t mention that.

While my eyes were looking down, they strayed to his crotch –

And I saw that the material of his pants was lifting up…

As something underneath was getting bigger.

Much bigger.

I guess he wasn’t wearing underwear, either, because there was nothing keeping that bulge in check.

I immediately looked up at his face.

He was staring into my eyes.

He was breathing heavier…

And I was, too.

My breasts were basically heaving beneath my t-shirt.

And then…

Just like that…

He grabbed me, kissed me hard… and we fucked right there in the kitchen.

32

Adriano

I woke up next to her and immediately wondered, What the fuck have I done?

Bianca was sleeping on her side with her back to me. Her long hair spilled all over her bare shoulders and pillow, and I could see her arm moving as she breathed.

Memories of last night came flooding back to me.

The feel of her body…

Being inside her pussy…

The sound of her screaming…

I’d woken up with an erection, and it only got harder from there.

I could smell her, too. The scent of her sex mixed with the light perfume of her shampoo.

I wanted her.

I wanted to reach out and roll her over and ravish her –

But I knew that was a bad idea.

It had enraged me last night when Massimo said I’d been falling down on the job because of a smokin’ hot piece of ass.

But now, lying there next to her…

I wondered if maybe he’d been onto something.

And she was smokin’ hot.

Gorgeous.

Astounding curves…

Beautiful face…

Soulful eyes.

Yeah, her tits and ass were amazing –

But it was those eyes of hers that really got me.

The way she’d stared into mine when she came –

Until they rolled back in her head.

FUCK.

I’d been with a lot of women over the years –

No one for over six months, though. Not since my father had died.

After he was gone, my brothers and I scrambled to keep the business above water. There wasn’t time for anything else.

But I’d banged my fair share of beautiful women before that.

None of it compared to last night.

Not the way Bianca felt when I was inside her…

Not the sounds she made or the smell of her body…

Not the way she made me come harder than any woman ever.

But what unnerved me…

Was that I was catching feelings.

Not good.

Maybe it was how protective I felt towards her.

Maybe it was all the shit we’d been through together.

I wasn’t sure…

But what I did know was that I couldn’t fuck her again.

It irritated the hell out of me, but Massimo was right –

Bianca was clouding my judgment.

She was fucking up my brain…

Because all I could think of was being inside her and hearing her come again.

Jesus…

I got out of bed slowly, careful not to wake her.

My cock was rock-hard, but I ignored it. Snagged my pants off the chair in the corner.

I couldn’t find my underwear – they might still be under the covers – so I just abandoned them.

I didn’t want her to wake up and see me rooting around with a rock-hard cock, because she might reach out and touch it –

And I didn’t think I could say ‘no.’

So I just quietly opened the door and snuck out.

Once I was in the hallway, I pulled my pants on. Getting my cock inside them was a pain, but I pushed it off to the side and buttoned up the clasp.

I could still smell her on me – the sweet scent of her pussy –

And it was driving me insane.

But I wasn’t going back in there to take a shower. No way.

So I decided to drown out the smell by making a cup of espresso with the Dalla Corte Mina espresso machine in the kitchen.

There were two things I demanded in life: the best bourbon and the best coffee. If I had those, I could deal with just about anything else.

Once the espresso was brewed, I sat down with a cup and got my phone.

Shit –

It was after 11.

I never slept that late, ever –

But I guessed it was reasonable considering the circumstances.

Given that we’d been up until 4AM –

And that I’d probably fucked Bianca for another half hour after that –

And would’ve fucked her longer if I hadn’t been so exhausted.

Stop thinking about it, you idiot.

My phone was almost out of juice, so I plugged it into a charger we kept in the house and checked my messages.

Niccolo had left a string of texts around 5AM –

Right around the time I was fucking Bianca.

STOP IT.

I forced myself to concentrate on Niccolo’s texts.

Well, well.

Seems like you HALFWAY obeyed orders.

Massimo, Lars, and your men all got back safely.

And I see you’ve sent us a guest.

WONDERFUL.

I knew exactly how he meant that last part. Niccolo dictated his text messages rather than typing them, and I could almost hear the sarcasm in his words.

Keep us apprised of your plans.

Do NOT go tearing around Florence.

In fact, if I thought you would listen to me at all, I would tell you to get back here right away.

But I know you’ll just ignore me or go whining to Dario, so I’ll only say this:

I got angry about the ‘go whining to Dario’ part.

Me and Niccolo were going to have a few choice words when I got him alone.

That’s when I heard the shower start in the next room.

I froze as I realized what it meant.

She was naked in there…

Soaping up those gorgeous tits…

And her sweet little pussy.

She’d been completely bare downstairs.

A recent bikini wax or something.

I loved that.

I thought about going down on her –

How smooth she would be when I licked her –

FUCK –

STOP IT.

I was getting hard again, and it had just gone down.

I went into the bathroom off the main hall so I could take a piss before it became impossible.

While I was in there, I brushed my teeth. We kept a supply of toothbrushes and toothpaste in all the bathrooms. You never knew how many people you’d need to sock away in a safe house.

After I finished, I went back into the kitchen.

The shower had stopped –

But I blocked out all images of Bianca toweling off her naked body and returned to reading Niccolo’s messages.

But I know you’ll just ignore me or go whining to Dario, so I’ll only say this:

Find out whatever you can about who’s behind it, but don’t engage them.

When you find out more, let me know immediately.

We’ll figure out what to do when you have more info.

Let me know if you need any supplies.

‘Supplies’ meant cars, guns, and cash. I had enough of all of them at the moment.

Text me when you’re up.

Then there was a new message that had come in about two hours ago:

Seriously? How late are you going to sleep?

Then an hour ago:

?

And 30 minutes ago:

?????????

I saw that he’d called as well, but hadn’t left a voicemail.

I was thinking about whether I should text him or call him – so he could hear me cussing him out –

When I heard footsteps.

I looked up –

And time froze.

Bianca was standing there, looking more beautiful than ever.

Her hair was wet and wavy as it fell around her perfect face.

I’ll say it again: some women are more beautiful without makeup, and she was definitely one of them.

Her cheeks were flushed from the shower, and the morning sun lit up her skin and made it seem like she was glowing.

Her big brown eyes shone with warmth, and her body…

God DAMN, her body.

She was wearing a tight little t-shirt and no bra.

Her full, firm tits were perfection, with just a hint of nipple pressing against the cloth.

Her waist was tiny and her hips were wide, just like I preferred.

Even the sweatpants were hot.

She looked like the ‘girl next door’ out of my dreams.

I liked women in nightclub dresses, sure…

And negligees were nice…

But the way she looked now?

Her innocence took my breath away.

Especially since I knew how good she could fuck.

But I couldn’t let her know I was thinking any of that.

From here on out, it was going to be strictly business.

Find her father, get the info, and go back to the mansion.

But still…

Those tits…

I forced myself to look at her face.

Which, beautiful as she was, was as big a turn-on as her body.

“Good morning,” I said in as flat a voice as I could manage.

“Good morning,” she replied.

It was obvious she was trying to pretend last night had never happened, too.

Although that tight t-shirt implied otherwise.

“Any more coffee?” she asked.

“No, but I’ll make you some,” I said as I stood up.

Panic flitted across her face.

“I can get it,” she said, and almost ran over to the kitchen counter.

I smirked.

The Dalla Corte was a high-end machine used only in the best coffee shops.

“I don’t think you’ll know how to work it,” I said as I walked over to her.

I saw the annoyance on her face and I grinned.

For some reason I didn’t quite understand, I enjoyed pissing her off.

And I already had, not 30 seconds into our first talk of the day.

“I think I can figure it out – ” she snapped, then stopped when she saw the chrome beast sitting on the countertop.

I grabbed the vacuum-packed canister we kept the coffee beans in. “Unless you worked as a barista, I kind of doubt it.”

I poured some beans into the grinder. “Unfortunately, we don’t really have anything good for breakfast.”

“Uh-huh,” she said.

Her voice sounded weird.

Maybe she’s hungry.

“There’s some protein bars if you’re starving, but I was thinking we could go to a café. There’s a good one nearby.”

“Uh-huh…”

It came out as a squeak.

I looked over at her as I said, “We can talk… about…”

And I trailed off.

Madonn…

I’d gotten a good look at her tits when she walked in. Hell, I could barely tear my eyes away from them.

And I remembered very clearly that her nipples had been relaxed under her t-shirt. Just a hint of them pressing against the cloth.

But now…

They were hard and jutting out.

Two perfect little points.

I stared at them and immediately felt my cock swelling in my pants.

My brain wasn’t quite working at full speed –

Seeing as most of my blood was flowing down to my dick at the moment –

But I quickly realized what those diamond-hard nipples meant:

She’s turned on.

Just like she was turning me on.

I looked up at her face –

And caught her staring at my crotch.

Her mouth was open… and her lower lip was full and ripe for sucking on.

Then she caught herself and forced herself to look up.

Her eyes…

They were full of nervousness, and uncertainty –

And desire.

I couldn’t handle it anymore.

I wanted her.

I needed her.

So I kissed her hard…

And I fucked her.

33

Bianca

This wasn’t the soft, sensual start from last night.

This was full-on, hardcore fucking from the very beginning.

He kissed me hard, his mouth pressing into mine with incredible desire –

And I kissed him back just as hard, needing him.

His hands were all over my body – inside my sweatpants, grabbing my ass cheeks, squeezing them –

And my hands were all over his body – his sculpted chest, his abs, his powerful shoulders.

Then he yanked my sweatpants down.

They fell past my thighs, and I wiggled my legs so they would drop to my ankles and I could step out of them.

At the same time, my hands moved to his waist and I scrambled to undo his pants.

My fingers brushed against his cock beneath the fabric, and I remembered just how big he was.

Was I going to be able to handle him again? Seeing that I was still a little sore from last night?

Given how wet I already was, I was pretty sure it would be okay.

After I unfastened his pants, I broke off our kiss so I could make sure I didn’t hurt him as I pulled his pants down –

And was very glad I did.

Because I got a really good look at it, unlike last night.

His cock was a work of art.

Seriously.

Not just big, thick, and long…

But gorgeous.

A slight curve to his shaft…

Veins bulging near the base, with curly tufts of dark hair…

And his pink head, swollen and huge, with pre-cum already beading at the top.

A little spider-web strand of wetness pulled away with his pants as they dropped to the floor.

I gasped and stared –

And then he was yanking my t-shirt up over my head.

I lifted my arms and let him pull the shirt away –

And then we were back to kissing frantically.

His strong hand cupped my left breast…

Lightly tweaked my nipple…

And his other hand reached up between my legs.

I was drenched.

I could feel it even before he stroked me and found out how wet I was.

I guess that turned him on even more because he forcefully turned me around…

Bent me over the counter…

And pushed the swollen head of his cock up against my pussy.

I moaned…

But he didn’t go in.

Not yet.

He kissed my back, my neck…

Reached around with his free hand and cupped one of my breasts, which hung heavy in his palm…

And then he sloooooowly eased his cock inside me.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh,” I moaned, my eyes rolling up into my head.

I could feel his swollen head going deep inside me, inch by inch.

I was so wet that he just kept going and going.

At the same time, he was rolling my nipple between his finger and thumb –

So there was pleasure up top and a TON of pleasure down below.

I groaned and basically collapsed on my forearms on the counter.

Finally he sank all the way inside me… his thighs touched my ass…

And he took his hand away from my breast and began to run his fingers lightly down my back.

Caressing my skin…

Tickling me…

Making me shiver from head to toe.

Then he put his hands on my waist…

And started to rock back and forth, slightly in and out.

I think he was making sure I could take him.

I could take him.

No doubt in my mind.

I was so wet and so ready that he began to go faster.

Then faster…

Thrusting deep inside me.

His hands gripped my waist, forcing me down on his cock as he drove forward to meet me.

The sound of him moving wetly in and out of my pussy –

The slap slap slap of his thighs on my ass –

It drove me wild.

What drove me even wilder was the places he was hitting inside me.

What with the curve of his cock and the different position, he was hitting entirely new spots from last night.

I was groaning and moaning with every thrust.

And the way he made my ass jiggle when his thighs smacked into it –

The vibrations went deep inside me.

Almost as deep as his cock…

Which was pretty damn deep.

I was slowly building to an orgasm…

I could feel that sweet warmth growing and growing…

And then he stopped thrusting as hard.

I wanted to yell Don’t stop! –

But he did something better.

He leaned over, and I felt his muscular chest and body against my back.

He cupped one of my breasts with his left hand and fondled it…

But his other hand reached down between my thighs and found my clit.

He began to caress it…

Softly at first…

Then firmer, and harder, and rougher.

He knew he could go rougher because I was screaming, “Yes – yes – Yes – YES!”

Meanwhile, he was rocking in and out of my pussy –

Not crazy thrusts, but enough to move several inches at a time.

Enough for me to feel the ridge on the head of his cock deep inside me…

And for him to fill me up over and over.

Those little movements –

Combined with the delicious pleasure from him rubbing my clit –

Made me come like a rocket.

I screamed as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through me.

My legs started shaking. Like, visibly quivering.

I screamed at the top of my lungs for at least five seconds.

He slowed down his finger after I hit my peak…

Then went to circling my clit as my moaning slowed down.

My legs didn’t stop shaking, though.

He stood there, cock deep inside me, as I lay on the counter with my legs quivering.

“Oh my god… I don’t… think I can walk… after that…” I gasped.

He chuckled. “Okay, then, I’ll carry you.”

He pulled out and I was like Nooooooo –

But then I felt his strong arms under my knees and around my back.

I screamed and laughed as he lifted me into the air like a ragdoll.

I looped my arms around his neck and kissed him as he started walking towards the bedroom.

“Where are we going?” I asked, though I knew exactly where.

“To finish the job,” he growled as he kicked open the door.

34

He threw me down on the bed like I weighed nothing, and I giggled.

I’d never been manhandled like this before…

And it felt good.

A huge turn-on.

He crawled up on the bed, looming above me.

I opened my legs, expecting him to plunge his cock into me and just start railing me –

But he didn’t.

Instead, he lowered his head to my right breast and licked my nipple… then sucked gently.

“Oh,” I whispered.

Then he started to kiss his way down my belly.

“…oh…” I murmured.

And then he began to kiss my pussy.

Not lick –

Kiss.

Softly, sweetly.

I moaned – but not crazy moaning. I had already come, after all.

“Don’t you want to fuck me?” I whispered.

He looked up at me from between my legs and grinned. “In a minute.”

Then he went back to kissing.

I’d gotten a bikini wax a few days before, and my skin was super smooth.

He brushed his lips ever so softly across my mound.

It tickled, and yet I wanted him to keep doing it forever.

Then he started licking.

First my skin…

Then he parted my lips.

His tongue began going up and down, wetly slipping over my clit every so often.

“Oh god,” I moaned. “Adriano…”

I gripped his hair with my fingers as he continued to lick.

It felt so GOOD…

And then I felt his finger inside me.

mmmm…

It was nice.

Definitely not as good as his cock, but –

Then he began curling it upwards in a ‘come hither’ motion, like he was beckoning someone towards him.

He was stroking my g-spot.

OH.

I gasped as he continued licking my clit…

And stroking that spot inside me…

And a wholly different kind of pleasure began to build up in me.

Like this… pressure.

Fuuuuuck…

Suddenly his finger slipped out of me.

I was a little disappointed, but I figured we’d start fucking.

Nope.

He slipped two fingers inside me and started that curling motion again…

All while he licked my clit, circling it, lapping it, sucking it.

FUUUUCK.

I could feel my orgasm building again –

But something else.

That pressure was getting more and more overwhelming –

“Adriano,” I gasped.

“Mm?” he murmured.

“Adriano, stop!”

“Why?”

It was more like Mmhwy? since his tongue was still caressing my clit, but I knew what he meant.

“I think I’m gonna squirt,” I groaned.

I’d never done it before, but I’d researched it on the internet.

I’d also looked up some porno clips out of curiosity.

I’d even tried to do it myself but hadn’t had any success.

But from what I’d read about how it felt, it seemed like I was getting really close.

“Stop,” I moaned.

He didn’t stop, though.

He just kept stroking inside me and licking me as my pleasure kept building –

And that pressure kept rising –

Then he stopped licking.

But his fingers didn’t stop stroking.

I was like, KEEP LICKING!

But I didn’t say that out loud.

“How close are you?” he asked.

I looked down at him.

He was grinning at me like the cat that ate the canary.

“REALLY close,” I moaned.

“To coming?”

“Yeah.”

“AND squirting?”

I nodded rapidly, slightly panicked. “I think so.”

“Okay – then do me a favor.”

His fingers felt so good curling inside me that I wouldn’t be able to hold it in much longer.

“What?” I whined, wanting him to stop – and not wanting him to ever stop.

“Babe?”

“What?!” I gasped.

I was right on the edge –

“Come in my mouth,” he growled.

And then he licked my clit.

FUCK.

I screamed like a banshee and came harder than I ever thought possible.

And I squirted.

It was this incredible release I had never felt before.

Nothing like it.

Ever.

A little part in the back of my mind wondered, Is THIS what it’s like for men?!

The way they feel when they spurt?

If so –

It was INCREDIBLE.

My entire body went rigid –

But all the pleasure muscles in my pussy and belly fluttered uncontrollably.

I screamed and screamed and screamed –

Until finally I stopped squirting…

And in my haze of pleasure, I realized Adriano had stopped licking me.

I suddenly felt incredibly ashamed.

Oh my God – I just peed all over him!!!

I looked down between my thighs, absolutely mortified, wanting to hide away and never look him in the eyes again –

But he was grinning at me.

He wiped his mouth off with the sheets, then slowly moved up on top of me like some dangerous jungle cat.

I hid my eyes with my hands.

He pulled them away.

“Stop. Why are you hiding?” he murmured in an incredibly sexy voice.

But I wouldn’t look at him. I turned my face away as my cheeks glowed burning red.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

I felt one finger press against my chin, and he forced me to turn my head and look him in the eye.

He looked pretty happy, that was for sure.

And, like, super turned-on.

Smoldering, even.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

I bit my lower lip in shame.

“I… it felt like… I peed…”

“It’s not. It’s different.” He smirked. “Trust me.”

“I know, but…”

“Did you like it?” he asked.

I looked deep into his eyes… and slowly nodded yes. “I loved the way it felt… when it was happening.”

He smiled as he held my gaze. His eyes were hypnotizing me. “I loved the way you looked when you did it. You looked like you lost control.”

“I did,” I whispered.

He lowered his lips to my ear and whispered, “Do I make you lose control?”

“…yes… but…”

He reared back so he could look me in the eyes. “But what?”

I stared at him fearfully. “Did you like it? Me… squirting?”

He grinned.

“Babe, that was the hottest thing ever. I love making you lose control.”

Relief flooded my entire body.

He kissed me softly… slowly…

And I closed my eyes, melting into his kiss.

Then I felt the head of his huge cock pressing against the lips of my pussy.

I was so wet that he slid inside me with one long, delicious stroke.

I moaned in delight…

And then he fucked me until I came…

And came again, and again, and again…

Until I lost track of my orgasms.

There was nothing but him, and me, and the pleasure of his cock inside me…

Until he came, too, filling me with his cum.

35

Adriano

Good God.

I’d never been into a woman this much in my life.

Everything about her:

Her face…

Her body…

Her smell…

Her taste…

The way she screamed when she climaxed…

The way she looked at me when I was fucking her, and then her eyes would roll back into her head when she came –

She was like cocaine.

Every time she had an orgasm, every time she screamed my name, it was another hit –

And I wanted more.

I finally couldn’t hold back any longer and came inside her.

Best fucking nut of my life.

After it was all over, I lay there with her nestled up against me and a massive smile on my face.

But the smile quickly faded.

Here I was, turning into a junkie in a crack house…

And there was shit that had to be done.

I just knew Niccolo was throwing a fit back at home.

Massimo’s words came back to haunt me:

You wouldn’t be falling down on the job on account of her being a smokin’ hot piece of ass, would you?

“Alright, we gotta get up,” I announced abruptly.

“Mmm… do we have to?” Bianca mumbled into my chest. I could hear the smile on her face as she said it. “Can’t we just… stay here for a while?”

“No,” I said and rolled her off of me. “Come on, we’ve got shit to do.”

I caught a glimpse of her as I sat up on the edge of the bed.

She looked shocked at first –

And then pissed.

“Jesus,” she muttered in irritation as she covered up her chest with the sheets.

“I’m taking a shower,” I announced as I walked towards the bathroom. “I’ll be out in two minutes, then you take one and we’ll hit the road in 15 minutes. Got it?”

“Whatever,” she said coldly.

I felt shitty about how I was acting –

But if I didn’t get back on track, I was going to fuck up.

And that was not going to happen.

But I still felt bad…

And I took it out on her.

“Do you want to find your dad or not?” I snapped as I paused at the door.

She glared at me from the bed. “Yeah, of course – ”

“Then let’s go,” I said.

I closed the bathroom door – and locked it.

I would’ve loved to take a long shower with her –

And maybe even fuck her again –

And that was precisely why I locked it.

No more hits from the crack pipe.

Time to get down to business.

36

Bianca

What a fucking ASSHOLE.

We’d just had incredible sex –

Even better than last night (and that had been the best sex of my life up to that point) –

And then suddenly he turned all business-like and cold.

As I listened to the shower, I lay there in bed feeling furious –

And heartsick.

I chalked it up to him being a guy…

But really, deep down, I knew I’d made a horrible mistake.

He’s a fucking GANGSTER, Bianca.

Sex means NOTHING to him.

He was just using you…

Like he uses tons of women all the time.

My heart sank.

It hurt. Really bad.

Last night – and just now – had meant something to me.

I didn’t like admitting it, now that he’d shown his true colors and turned out to be an asshole –

But it hadn’t just been a roll in the hay for me.

I felt… connected to him.

On a way deeper level than just sex.

(Even though the sex had been mind-blowing.)

But now I could see that it didn’t go both ways – that I was the only one with these feelings.

It also didn’t help that he’d just ruined me for other men.

I mean, my god…

His body…

His cock…

His stamina…

The way he made me come over and over…

The way he stared into my eyes when he was –

Wait.

Hold up.

I frowned.

None of it made any sense.

When we’d been having sex, Adriano had held off on having an orgasm forever –

So that I could keep coming.

If he didn’t give a damn about me, why didn’t he just shoot his load and be done with it?

Roll over and go to sleep like most of my exes?

He’d put a lot of effort into making me feel good…

And obviously taken a lot of pleasure from my pleasure.

So where was this coldness coming from?

Was being fantastic at sex just something he did to stroke his ego –

But once it was all over, he let you know where you really stood?

And that stuff about my father – it was like he was deliberately trying to hurt me.

I sighed angrily.

Fuck men.

Just… fuck ‘em.

They were idiots and assholes and I hated them all.

Although at the moment, I really hated one in particular.

37

It didn’t get any better when we left the house.

I took a shower and dressed in a skirt and black lace top I’d gotten from a thrift store. I figured we would be doing a lot of walking, so I went with a pair of sandals.

I would have liked to have put on some makeup, but Adriano was hovering over me from the moment I got dressed.

“C’mon, let’s go, let’s go,” he said impatiently.

Like I was one of his little minions.

Asshole.

He was wearing his suit from last night. It was rumpled all to hell… but he still looked hot.

I hated him for that.

We were already in the car and driving when he asked, “Did you call your father again?”

“I was kind of busy for the last hour,” I snapped.

“Well do it now,” he snarled.

I cursed him silently and pulled out my phone. It was dead.

“I need to charge it.”

He opened up the center console, fished around, and handed me a cord. I plugged it into a port in the dash and heard the ding as it started charging.

I started up my phone after a few seconds.

My heart immediately soared when I saw the little red numbers on my text and phone apps:

17 texts and 5 calls.

“Oh my god!” I said joyfully.

“What?” he asked.

I ignored him and opened up my texts –

And immediately my heart sank when I saw that none of them were from my father.

They were all from my roommate Emma.

…who I was supposed to help with her fashion project today.

I glanced at the time: 1:22.

I was supposed to have been there three hours ago.

“Oh shit,” I whispered.

“What?!” Adriano snapped.

I still ignored him and opened up my phone app, hoping that maybe one had been a call from my father –

But no. They were all from my roommate.

Shit, shit, SHIT –

I hit my roommate’s name on the contact list and lifted the phone to my ear.

“Did you dad call?!” Adriano shouted angrily.

“No!” I snapped at him.

“Then who are you fucking calling?!”

“I forgot I was supposed to help my roommate do something this morning!”

“You have a roommate?!”

“Yeah, I – ”

“Bianca, are you okay?!” Emma said into my ear.

Oh no…

She sounded sick to death with worry.

I’d been prepared for her to chew me out, and she was only worried about my safety.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I said.

“Thank God – when you didn’t come home last night and you didn’t answer my calls, I thought you might be hurt! What happened?!”

I hesitated.

I really didn’t want to say, Oh, I met this really hot asshole and had mind-blowing sex.

Partially because it would have made me sound like a bitch who blew off her friend…

But also because the hot asshole was sitting right next to me, and I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

So I went with the version of the story that would get me more sympathy.

“Something happened with my dad. I’m sorry I didn’t call – ”

“Is he okay?!”

Emma had heard all about my father’s problems with gambling.

She didn’t know the ugly details, but she knew enough: that he was always getting into debt with bad people and making me and my mother miserable.

“I… I think so – ”

Suddenly Adriano butted in. “You have to tell her to get out of there now.”

I looked at him. “What?”

“…who’s that?” Emma asked.

Adriano’s expression was a mixture of anger and fear. “Tell her to leave the apartment NOW.”

“Why?!”

“Biancaaaaa,” Emma said in a slightly pissed voice, “why does it sound like you’re with a guy?”

Adriano’s eyes bored a hole into me. “You left your ID at the modeling agency, right? Which means they know where you live.”

Ice water rushed into my guts.

“N-no – ”

“They know where your parents live, too. Once they find Sergio, they’re gonna send someone to your apartment.”

Oh fuck…

“Emma,” I said, my voice frantic, “you have to get out of there. LEAVE. NOW.”

“…what?”

“My dad disappeared and the mafia’s after him and they came after my mom last night and they’re coming after me,” I babbled. “So they’re coming to the apartment. YOU HAVE TO GET OUT NOW.”

There was silence on the other end. Then –

“Bianca, you’re SCARING me.”

“Please, Emma, I’m so sorry I dragged you into this, but you HAVE TO GO NOW – please!”

“Okay, okay – ”

“Tell her to grab her keys and walk out NOW,” Adriano ordered. “Not in two minutes –NOW.”

“Emma – ”

“I heard him – who is he?!”

“Put her on speakerphone,” Adriano ordered.

I did.

“Look, there are killers coming to your apartment as we speak,” he said. “Get your keys and leave and don’t come back until you hear from Bianca, okay?”

“O-okay…”

“GET OUT – NOW!” Adriano shouted.

“I’m going, I’m going,” she said in a terrified voice.

I could hear a door close over the phone.

“Good,” Adriano said. “Now go someplace they can’t find out – not your parents’ place, not your boyfriend’s, not any other friends’ – ”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, and my parents are in Naples.”

“Good – don’t go there. Go to a hotel someplace you’ve never been before.”

Emma gave an incredulous laugh. “Uhhh, I do NOT have the money for that.”

“Do you and Bianca use the same cash app? Something like Wise or Revolut?”

“Yeah, she pays me her half of the rent that way, but – ”

“Good. Bianca will send you the money.”

Now I was the one looking at Adriano like he was an alien.

Did this guy not know how poor I was?

“I don’t – ”

He shushed me, which pissed me off, and went back to talking to Emma. “Are you out of the building?”

“Yes, but – ”

“Just go and hang out in a café until the money comes through, alright?”

“O-okay…” she stuttered, frightened.

“And STAY there. Definitely don’t go back to the apartment.”

“What about school?”

“Fuck school,” Adriano snapped. “This is life and death, you understand?”

“O-okay…”

“We gotta go.”

“I’ll call you, Emma,” I promised.

“Please be safe, Bianca!”

“I will. You too,” I said, then hung up.

I looked over at Adriano. “Did you really need to scare the shit out of her like that?”

“Would you rather her get shot in the head?” he snarled.

“No, but – ”

“Those guys who shot up the hotel last night? They’re the ones looking for you right now.”

I felt all the blood drain out of my face. “Then shouldn’t we be getting the hell out of Florence?”

“No. We have to find your father.”

“Yeah – but what’s going to stop them from hurting us?”

Adriano got a savage look on his face that chilled me to the bone…

…and yet somehow made me feel safer.

“Me,” he said coldly. “I’m going to stop them from hurting you.”

I swallowed hard. Then I thought of Emma going to a hotel –

“I don’t have any money to send her,” I said.

He pulled over to the side of the road and opened his phone. “What app do you use with her?”

“Wise.” It was basically the European version of Venmo.

“What’s your name on the app?”

I gave it to him.

He tapped the screen a couple of times, and I got a notification ping.

I opened Wise and my eyes bugged out.

You have 5000 euros from A. Rosolini.

It was the equivalent of $5000 US.

“What the fuck?!” I exclaimed.

“What, that’s not enough?” he asked, confused.

“No, it’s – I can’t accept this!”

“It’s not for you, it’s for your roommate. Send it to her.”

“She doesn’t have to stay at the Four Seasons!”

“She can stay wherever the fuck she wants just as long as she stays out of your apartment. Send it.”

“But – ”

“Do you want her to end up dead?”

“No – ”

“This is the price to keep her safe. So send her the goddamn money.”

I shook my head in bewilderment, then sent the full 5000 to Emma.

About 15 seconds later, a text message came in from her.

WTF?????!!!!!!

I know, I texted back. Just be careful.

B, wtf is going on????!!!!

Tell you later. I promise.

Adriano pulled the car up to a small café next to a string of shops.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Gotta go, I texted, and unplugged my phone.

38

I sat across from Adriano at the café as he finished a phone call.

It was almost 2 PM, so we’d had to skip breakfast and go straight to lunch.

I was eating some mediocre risotto, which didn’t matter to me – I was ravenously hungry.

Adriano had his cell phone up to his ear. I couldn’t hear the person on the other end, but I could tell it was Niccolo by some of the things Adriano said.

“…yeah, yeah,” he snapped. “I’ll keep you in the loop. Yes. Fine. GOODBYE.”

Adriano ended the call and put his phone back in his jacket.

He looked pissed.

As he went back to eating, Adriano glared at me from under his furrowed brow. “What?”

“Sounds like your brother’s not too happy.”

“Yeah, well, he can go fuck himself.”

O-kaaaay…

The café was a small neighborhood place. There was an indoor area and a big brick archway that opened out onto the sidewalk, where customers crowded around a dozen tables. The place was packed with locals eating Saturday lunch.

We sat in a small booth inside the café.

Well, Adriano did. I sat in a chair on the other side of the table from him.

“Thank you for the money for Emma,” I said.

“Who?” Adriano asked.

I stared at him in astonishment. “Emma? My roommate? The 5000 euros?!”

“Oh,” he said, like I was thanking him for passing the salt. “No problem.”

I continued staring at him in bewilderment as he kept eating.

When he finally realized I was looking at him, he glowered at me. “What now?”

“It was 5000 euros.”

“So?”

“So you’re acting like you gave her a couple of bucks!”

He shrugged. “No big deal.”

“How rich are you?”

He raised one eyebrow suspiciously. “…why?”

I knew exactly what he was thinking:

Gold digger.

“Fuck you,” I snarled. “By the way, do I have anything to be worried about?”

“What, like guys with Uzis? That would be a ‘yes.’”

“No – like something I’m gonna need antibiotics to get rid of.”

He scowled. “No. Should I be worried?”

“No,” I said angrily.

“So – no surprises in nine months?” he asked sarcastically.

This fuckin’ piece of –

“I’m on birth control,” I snapped.

“Good.”

“Good.”

We ate in venomous silence until I finally said, “I was just trying to say ‘thank you,’ asshole.”

“Asking me if I gave you an STD is an interesting way of saying ‘thank you,’” he replied, but he sounded amused.

“Okay – thank you for the money you gave my roommate. And fuck you for being a dick.”

He chuckled. “You’re welcome.”

I shook my head and sighed loudly in exasperation.

He looked at me like he was getting tired. “What NOW.”

“I try to be nice to you and you treat me like shit. I insult you and you find it funny.”

He shrugged. “Maybe it’s growing up with five brothers.”

“I don’t think that’s it.”

“Why not?”

“I know people with a lot of brothers and sisters, and they don’t act like you.”

He tilted his head to the side like Maybe you have a point. “I guess I do kinda try to piss people off…”

“Why?!”

“Because it’s… it’s like a lie detector test. If I’m an asshole and they’re nice back to me, then I know they want something. If they’re an asshole back, though, I know I’m getting the truth.”

“Wow,” I muttered in disbelief. “Just… wow.”

Although it explained a hell of a lot about him.

He shrugged as he went back to eating. “It is what it is.”

“Were you always this way?”

“Maybe. I guess. Although part of it comes with the business.”

“The business of – ”

He shot me a warning look and glanced around the café.

I got the point.

“Speaking of which,” I said, “why are we eating out here in broad daylight if we’re in so much danger?”

“I don’t think we’re in that much danger. For now, anyway.”

“You sure scared the shit out of Emma! And me!”

“Well, she was in danger. Maybe not at that exact second, but they would’ve come knocking sooner or later. Better she left right away.”

“Do you really think they would have…” I asked, then trailed off. I didn’t want to finish the sentence.

“Hurt her to get to you? Not a doubt in the world.”

“Then how can we not be in danger?”

“Because they don’t know about the house we just stayed in. My brother Roberto buried it under so many shell corporations that they’d need a team of forensic accountants to figure out who owns it.

“And nobody followed us home last night because they would’ve tried to break in, and they didn’t.

“Plus, this just isn’t the type of neighborhood where they’d run into us by accident. It’s the fuckin’ suburbs. We don’t even have a presence here, other than the house.”

“And by ‘we’ you mean…?”

“My family.”

“Is that your actual family, or is it a euphemism for – ”

Adriano shot me another warning look.

“I was going to say for your business,” I said, irritated.

He gave me a half grin.

“According to your little lie detector test, you figure you got the truth just now, huh,” I said.

“Pretty much.”

“So – real family, or just… ‘business’ family?”

“Both. My brothers and me, we’re the business.”

“But not Lars.”

Adriano looked up in surprise, then remembered I’d spent hours around the guy last night.

He also looked…

Guilty. Like maybe he’d gotten into a fight with Lars.

“Not by blood – but he is my brother where it counts,” Adriano said quietly.

“And where’s that?”

“Action. He’d take a bullet for any of us.”

The part about ‘taking a bullet’ stressed me out a little.

“Speaking of which – let’s say that whoever is after us gets lucky.” I looked over my shoulder at the open-air arch of the café. “Isn’t this, like, the worst possible place for us to be?”

“Well, one of us has his back to the wall,” Adriano said as he finished his pasta.

I froze and realized he was right: he was sitting with his back protected…

Whereas I wouldn’t see anyone until it was too late.

As though to prove the point, a voice behind me made me jump.

“Ready for the main course?”

I whipped around to see the waiter.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he said with a frown. “You ready?”

“Y-y-yeah,” I said.

Adriano just nodded, and the waiter picked our dishes off the table and walked away.

I immediately got out of my chair and sat down next to Adriano. “Scoot over.”

He started chuckling. “Don’t worry. I told you I’m not going to let anybody hurt you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t care – scoot over.”

He moved over enough to let me have half the seat. “This is pretty close quarters.”

I glared at him. “We were a lot closer about an hour ago.”

He grinned. “That we were.”

What I really wanted to ask him was, Why’d you turn into an asshole after we had sex?

But I knew that would be a bad idea, so I just kept quiet.

I looked out at the street and the people passing by. “What would you do if one of them came up to us?”

In answer, Adriano lifted his napkin off his legs.

His gun was sitting there on his lap.

“Oh my God!” I hissed.

“Shhhh. You asked.”

“I can’t believe you…”

“You wanted to know if I was ready. I’m ready.”

I groaned. “I can’t believe this…”

“Maybe you should go sit on the other side of the table, then.”

“NO. I’m staying right here.”

He chuckled again.

“I’m so glad I amuse you,” I said testily.

“Yeah, well, better than pissing me off, right?”

“I guess,” I grumped.

The waiter came over and set down two plates in front of us: a Fiorentina breaded steak for Adriano and pollo alla cacciatora for me.

Adriano tucked into his food with gusto.

“What are we going to do after we leave here?” I asked.

“You said you knew your father’s hangouts, right? We’ll probably hit those first.”

“Won’t they recognize you?” I asked.

“Why would they recognize me?”

“Because they’re underground gambling parlors run by the Agrellas’ people.”

Adriano winced. “…shit.”

“What?”

“You’re right: the Agrellas run gambling around here. Or at least, they used to… until last night.”

“Won’t they recognize you?”

“Probably not. The low-level guys have no idea who I am. Only the people at the top do, and… well… they’re all gone.”

“What do you mean, ‘all gone’?”

Adriano frowned. “Didn’t you hear what I said to my guys last night before they left?”

I dropped my voice to a whisper. “About the safe house?”

“Not just them – we think the entire Agrella family got whacked.”

I stared at him in horror. “By… your family?”

“No!” Adriano said, like that was absurd. “You and I wouldn’t be on the run if that was the case.”

“Then who did it?”

“That’s what we need to find out.”

“But… if my father owed money to the Agrellas… and they’re all gone… why would anybody care about my dad?”

“We need to find that out, too.”

“Shit…” I muttered as I stared off into the distance. “Maybe it’s about his job…”

“What’s his job?”

“He’s, like, a go-between for corrupt judges. He makes sure they get paid by the mob.”

Adriano turned around to face me. “What the fuck did you just say?”

He seemed more shocked than angry, but I was still frightened by the urgency in his voice.

“What?” I asked, a little nervous.

“Your dad – what did you just say he does?”

“Well, I mean, his official job is he works for the Florence judicial department.”

“I don’t care about his official job,” Adriano said impatiently. “Tell me the other part.”

“He pays off judges for the Agrellas.”

Adriano stared at me like I had grown a third eye.

“…what?” I asked anxiously.

Adriano pulled out his phone, dialed, and held it up between us.

“What’re you – ”

“Shhh.”

I recognized the voice that answered as Niccolo’s.

“Well, THAT was quick,” he said facetiously. “Have you decided to – ”

“Nic, we’re in a public place, so watch what you say.” Adriano looked at me. “Tell him exactly what you told me.”

I was getting more and more frightened by the second.

“Is this that girl you pulled out of the hotel?”

“Bianca, yeah,” Adriano said, then nudged me. “Tell him what your father does.”

“He… he pays off judges for the mob.”

“Who SPECIFICALLY in the mob?” Adriano asked.

“The Agrellas.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone.

“…that’s impossible,” Niccolo finally said.

Which annoyed me. “Well, that’s interesting, seeing as he’s been doing it for twenty years,” I snapped.

Adriano’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “What?!”

“Well, maybe not twenty years, but ever since I can remember – and I’m 22.”

“Did you hear that, Nic?!” Adriano exclaimed.

“I heard. What’s your father’s name, Bianca?”

“Fabrizio Lettieri.”

“Middle name?”

“He doesn’t have one.”

“Hold on.”

There was a long pause. Voices murmured in the background, and I heard the clicking of a keyboard.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” I whispered to Adriano.

“Hold on,” he said.

Niccolo came back after nearly a minute. “Is there another name he could be listed under?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“What’d you find?” Adriano asked.

“Nothing. There’s absolutely NO mention of a Fabrizio Lettieri in our records.”

“Son of a bitch,” Adriano muttered.

“Adriano… I don’t have to tell you how important this is – ”

“I know, I know,” Adriano said. “We’re leaving now.”

“Alright. Keep me posted.”

I stared at Adriano in shock as he hung up the phone. “What the hell was that all about?”

Adriano slipped his gun back into his jacket, then pulled out a wallet and placed a hundred euros on the table. “We gotta go.”

“Tell me!” I said fearfully.

“For the last 20 years, my family had a deal with the Agrellas. They handled the street – prostitution, drugs, gambling, shit like that – and we handled the courts and the politicians. The payoffs and bribes.”

I frowned. “But my father – ”

“Doesn’t work for us. He was working for the Agrellas.”

“…which means…?”

“Which means the Agrellas were going behind our backs for the last 20 years. Which is bad enough – but considering that your dad disappeared two nights ago, and the Agrellas bought the farm last night… maybe your father found out something he shouldn’t have.

“Maybe he knew what was going to happen, so he went underground. Which means maybe he knows who’s behind everything… and maybe something even bigger than that.”

I stared at Adriano as the implications snuck in.

My father had stumbled into a war within the Cosa Nostra…

And whoever had wiped out the Agrellas was looking for him right now.

Adriano pulled me to my feet. “Either way, we gotta find your father fast… before somebody else gets to him first.”

39

Adriano

This was big –

Potentially even bigger than the Agrellas getting wiped out.

I mean, that alone was huge –

But whatever secrets Bianca’s father might be holding, they suggested a vast conspiracy my family hadn’t even known existed.

One that had rolled over the Agrellas like a tsunami –

And which might destroy us if we didn’t figure out who was behind it.

“Where are we going?” I asked Bianca as I pulled the Mercedes out into traffic.

“Most of the betting places are near the Centro Storico,” she said – the historic center of Florence. “One’s in Santa Marian Novella near the train station.”

Santa Maria Novella was a neighborhood in Florence west of the historic center. It had a mixture of beautiful old buildings, like the Basilica di Santa Maria Novella, and grungier areas near the train lines.

“Alright, we’ll head there first.”

She gave me a little side-eye. “I think you need to get some other clothes first.”

“What? Why?”

“You look like a gangster.”

“This is an expensive suit!” I said, irritated.

“Yeah, it’s Prada with what looks like a Brunello Cucinelli silk shirt. Which either makes you a fashion model or a mafioso.”

I glanced at her in surprise. “How’d you know that’s what they were?”

“I’m a fashion student and I want to be a designer. I know my shit.”

“You can tell just by looking at them?”

“Of course. I watch all the fashion shows online, and I know that jacket is from Prada’s latest collection. And nobody does silk like Brunello Cucinelli.”

“Huh,” I muttered. “Why couldn’t I be just a regular rich guy?”

“Regular rich guys don’t have tats showing on their necks. Except for Gianluca Vacchi, I guess.”

“Who?”

“He’s this rich old guy on TikTok who dances and – never mind. The point is, he’s a rich guy with tats, but he’s trying to look like a mafioso. You’re a mafioso, but you’re trying not to look like one.”

“What does it matter if I look like a mafioso?”

“Didn’t you say the Agrellas’ people ran the gambling in Florence? Won’t they recognize you?”

“I already told you, the low-level guys at the betting parlors won’t know who I am.”

“Yeah, but if you walk in with a suit worth ten grand, they’re going to know you’re somebody, right?”

“…shit,” I muttered.

“What?”

“You’re right.”

“Ooooh, that was nice – say it again,” she joked.

“Ha ha, very funny,” I said without laughing. “All they have to do is take a picture of me and text it to somebody higher up.”

And whoever they texted it to, it might be somebody from the hotel last night.

“I could go in and do the talking,” she suggested. “You can just stay outside.”

“NO. Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

She got a little smile on her face like she enjoyed hearing me say it. Then the smile faded. “Is it a good idea for me to be going around asking where he is?”

“It might raise some red flags… but whoever killed the Agrellas last night, they want to stay anonymous. Which means they probably haven’t put the word out yet… which means the guys on the street shouldn’t know about you or your dad yet, either.”

“Sergio knew,” she said quietly.

She was thinking of the guy I’d shot last night – the one who’d held her mother at gunpoint.

Sergio had been absolutely terrified – which gave me pause.

Whoever was behind this, they must be really bad to make a hardened gangster lose his shit like that.

But I didn’t want to scare Bianca any more than necessary. After all, her father was still out there somewhere.

Hopefully alive.

“Sergio wasn’t a bottom feeder, though. He was a little higher up the food chain. No, whoever is behind this is trying to keep as low a profile as possible… which means they probably haven’t spread it around about your father.” I shrugged. “I’ll know as soon as I see the faces of whoever you ask. Which is why I need to be in there with you.”

“You could be my boyfriend,” she suggested.

I gave her a look –

And she rolled her eyes. “I’m saying you can act like my boyfriend. Jesus.”

“…alright,” I said grumpily. “Yeah, it works better if they think I’m your boyfriend.”

“Then you absolutely need to ditch those clothes.”

“Why?”

“Because a chick dressed like me isn’t going to be hanging out with a guy dressed like you.”

She gestured at her outfit – which I liked a lot because it showed off her curves without showing too much skin.

I mean, if it was just the two of us, I would’ve loved for her tits to be hanging out –

But I hated the idea of other men looking at her.

In fact, if I thought about it too long, it started to make me angry.

“So you’re saying I should dress down,” I said.

“Exactly.”

“What are you thinking?”

“The Gap, maybe?”

“NO.”

She laughed. “We need you to look like an average guy – unless you want people to be suspicious.”

“Average is fine, but I am not wearing anything from the Gap.”

She laughed even harder. “What’s the matter – too big of a jump from Prada to pleated khakis?”

I scowled at her.

“Alright, alright. You know, there’s a cool thrift store in Santa Maria Novella. That’s where I got this outfit. How about we go there and I find you some clothes?”

“…fine,” I grumbled.

I just knew I was going to regret this.

40

I’d never been in a thrift store in my life.

And I wished I’d continued that trend.

“This place is a fuckin’ shithole,” I said to Bianca as we walked in.

“Shhhh,” she hissed angrily, then whispered, “It is not a shithole – it’s cool.”

I took a second look and decided that the shop was interesting enough, in a run-down bohemian way. It was in a really old building with exposed wooden rafters and brick walls. Amidst the dozens and dozens of clothes racks, old mannequins were dressed in everything from punk rock t-shirts to ball gowns.

So that part was interesting.

The artwork hanging on the wall was shitty, though. The paintings were eyesores, and there were lots of collages with pretentious phrases like ‘THIS IS ART’ assembled out of magazine clippings like a hostage note.

A five-year-old could have done better.

And don’t get me started on the clientele.

Only four other people were in the shop, but they were all artsy-fartsy twenty-somethings. And they all had piercings in their lips, noses, and everywhere else.

They stared at me with open disdain as I walked in – like I was the weird-looking one.

I just ignored them and followed Bianca to the men’s racks.

“We’ll get you some jeans… ooh, here’s some True Religion… I wonder if they have any old Ed Hardy shirts?”

“What?!”

“I’m thinking I should dress you like a douchebag. Or we could do wannabe rocker… or art student…”

“How about just normal?”

She laughed. “I already suggested the Gap, and you said ‘no.’ Besides, with your looks and your tats, you’re anything but normal.”

It sounded like a compliment… but in a backhanded sort of way.

She pulled item after item off the racks and draped them over her arms.

“You didn’t ask my size,” I said.

She rattled off the centimeters for my waist and shoulders without looking at me.

She was pretty damn close, too.

“How the fuck did you know that?” I asked in shock.

She gave me one of her looks again.

“Fashion student, remember? I look at people’s measurements all day long. After a while, you get pretty good at eyeballing them.” She went back to browsing. “We should probably get you some shoes, too. Doc Martins would be good if they have them in your size…”

“What’s wrong with my shoes?”

“You can’t wear thrift-store jeans and thousand-dollar shoes, dude.”

Alright, she had a point.

“Let’s go try this on,” she said as she held up her arm-load of clothes.

We went to the back. For a store that looked like this, the dressing rooms were surprisingly good – lots of space, with full mirrors on three sides and actual doors instead of curtains.

I liked the multiple mirrors…

Mostly because I could see Bianca from every angle in the infinite reflections.

Madonn, what an ass…

And those tits in that top…

Fuck.

She laid the clothes on a wooden bench.

“Okay,” she said with a smirk. “Strip.”

I gave her a smirk back. “That’s the only reason you brought me in here, isn’t it?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve already seen the merchandise.”

“You did a lot more than see it, as I recall.”

“Yeah, yeah – get to stripping, mafia boy.”

I pulled off my suit jacket and hung it on a peg on the wall. Then I unbuttoned my shirt, shucked off my shoes, and pulled off my pants. By the end, all I was wearing was my underwear.

For somebody who had ‘already seen the merchandise,’ Bianca sure was giving me the once-over.

Her eyes roved up and down my body like a starving woman eyeing an ice cream sundae.

It turned me on.

Thankfully I’d busted a nut enough times in the last 12 hours that I didn’t immediately get a hard-on.

I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how she affected me.

“What’s first?” I asked.

She handed me a ripped tee – a faded White Snake concert shirt from 30 years ago.

I threw it back on the bench without even trying it on. “Next.”

“Okay, don’t like the hair bands,” she said as she gave me another shirt. It was a button-up short-sleeve shirt that was way more suitable for a guy in his 40s having a midlife crisis.

“Eh,” I said as I tried it on.

“Yeah, not that one,” she agreed as I pulled it off.

As I tried on some jeans, she said, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“Why are you helping me find my father?”

“He’s got information about who’s behind all this.”

“Yeah, I realize you know that now… but you didn’t know that in the beginning. The first time you said you’d help me, there really wasn’t anything in it for you. So… why?”

I paused.

I knew exactly why.

In fact, I knew the precise moment I’d decided to help her.

“I…”

I looked at her.

She was staring at me intently.

I turned away. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do,” she whispered. “Please… tell me.”

I looked back at her again…

And finally gave in.

It was her eyes…

So big and soulful…

“You were talking about your father,” I said.

She frowned. “What about him?”

“It was when I asked why he sent you to the hotel.”

She immediately got pissed off. “Yeah – and you asked if he was whoring me out.”

I gave her a half-smile. “You gotta understand, a lot of people I run into in this business would have done exactly that. But when I asked you again, you said something else. Do you remember what it was?”

She went from pissed off to curious. “No – what?”

“You said you couldn’t reach him and they were going to break his legs, so you did it to buy him more time.”

“So?”

“It was the way you said it. I could tell you really cared about him.”

Her face softened. “I love him.”

“I know. Despite the gambling and getting mixed up with the Cosa Nostra, and all the shit he’s put you through… you still love him. And I could see that in your face.”

She shrugged, embarrassed. “Everybody loves their father.”

“No. No, they don’t.”

Bianca nodded reluctantly. “Okay… not everybody, no.”

“But it wasn’t just that you loved him. It was the part about buying him more time.”

She frowned again, not understanding what I was getting at.

I continued. “I lost my father unexpectedly. Out of the blue.”

Although not the way I THOUGHT I lost him.

The old Sicilian woman – the one who had tried to shoot Dario – had poisoned my father. She gloated about it before she died.

Memories suddenly flooded my mind.

Me at five years old, looking up at my father as he shaved. He winked at me and dabbed a bit of shaving cream on my nose.

Me at eight years old, watching him teach Dario how to shoot a gun. I was so jealous of the attention Papa was giving him…

Me at 13 years old, when we were reunited after gunmen had attacked our house. Dario had helped my father fend off the attackers, but I had been forced to flee with my mother and younger brothers – like a child.

I was so angry at my father for keeping Dario by his side and sending me away –

But then he wrapped me in his arms, hugged me tight, and kissed the top of my head… and all my anger disappeared.

Me at 17, the first time I killed a man.

I remembered how horrible I felt… how sick to my stomach.

Even though it had been him or me – and he was the one attacking our family.

I couldn’t stop seeing the man’s face… the way the light had gone out of his eyes when he died.

But after the fight was won, my father took my face in his hands and whispered, Thank you, Adriano. This is not the life I would have chosen for you… but you saved your family today, and you made me proud. You ALWAYS make me proud.

And then I remembered coming into his bedroom only six months ago…

“I was the one who found him before he died,” I said, and my voice cracked a little. “He was…”

I had to stop talking for a second.

Bianca’s eyes welled up with tears.

She looked like her heart was breaking for me.

“He was lying on the floor… his face was all red… I rushed over to him, screaming… I held him, and he looked up at me… he tried to say something, but he couldn’t… and then…”

I turned my head away from Bianca.

I couldn’t look at her and keep talking – I couldn’t.

I finally got ahold of myself and finished what I had to say.

“He lost consciousness while I was holding him… and he never woke up. He died in the hospital just a few hours later.”

I breathed out shakily.

“Last night, I could hear in your voice how much you love your father. And when you said you wanted to buy him more time… that’s why I said I’d help you.

“I want you to get him back… because I loved my father, too. And because I’d do anything – anything – just to have him back again… even if it was only for a few more minutes.”

When I finished, I finally looked back at Bianca.

Both her hands were covering her mouth. Tears streamed down her face.

Her shoulders were trembling like she was trying to hold in her sobs.

We stared at each other –

And then she stepped forward, took my face in her hands, and kissed me.

I could taste the salt on her lips.

I grabbed her by her waist and held her tight, and kissed her with everything I had inside me…

My entire heart.

No holding back.

41

Bianca

He absolutely destroyed me.

When Adriano was talking about his father…

And I could see him struggling with his grief…

This hard-as-nails, angry man who was still mourning his father…

All I saw was the little boy he had once been.

And it broke me.

It destroyed the wall I’d built to protect myself…

And it shattered my heart into a thousand pieces.

The agony in his eyes…

The way he held back his emotions…

And yet how he let me see him.

Really see him… for the first time.

I walked over and I kissed him.

He kissed me back…

Soft at first, then passionate…

And then it was like a fire was lit between us.

He grabbed my ass and pulled me right up against him –

At which point I could feel his hard cock against my body.

Unnhhh…

He reached up under my skirt and pulled my panties down.

“Adriano, we can’t!” I whispered frantically.

“Of course we can.”

“We’re in a dressing room!”

“So? There’s a door. It’s locked.”

“Someone will hear!”

“Then don’t make any noise,” he said with a smirk as he pulled off his boxer briefs.

As soon as I saw him naked, with his cock jutting up huge and stiff –

I stopped coming up with excuses.

Instead, I ran my hand up and down his thick shaft.

Mmmmmmm…

He kissed me again as his hand touched my pussy.

“You’re already drenched,” he whispered in my ear –

And then he picked me up.

He grabbed me with one hand on my lower back and the other under my left thigh, then lifted me like it was nothing.

“Oh!” I gasped.

“Put your legs around me,” he growled.

I wrapped my legs around his waist –

And he slowly lowered me onto his cock.

I could feel his swollen head pressing against my pussy.

He paused for a second as he maneuvered me into place…

And then he gradually lowered me down onto his cock.

“Oh my God,” I whimpered as I circled my arms around his neck and held on tight.

His cock…

I could feel it sloooowly going deeper inside me.

It was a whole new feeling standing upright instead of lying down.

I closed my eyes and raked my fingernails across his back.

He didn’t seem to mind –

He even seemed to like it.

“That’s it, baby… that’s it…” he whispered in my ear.

I suppressed a cry of pleasure…

And finally he was all the way inside me.

I couldn’t believe how deep he was…

Or how much he filled me up.

I opened my eyes in a haze of pleasure…

And saw our reflection.

Dozens of reflections, actually, because of the three mirrors.

His perfect ass…

His broad back…

His tattoos…

His muscular legs…

And my legs wrapped around his waist.

It felt a little odd not being skin-to-skin. After all, I was still wearing my top and skirt…

But it was such a turn-on to see me fully dressed –

And this naked, hot-as-hell guy holding me in the air with his cock deep inside me.

Then it got even better.

He began to move his ass the slightest, just tilting it back at an angle and thrusting it forward.

I could feel his huge cock move inside me… just a few inches out, then in…

But it was incredible.

Slow…

Thick…

Deep…

I watched, almost hypnotized, as his muscular ass moved back and forth…

Dozens of images, from every angle, of Adriano thrusting his cock deep inside me.

Then he began to kiss me.

Like the fucking, his kiss was slow but deep… passionate… and hot.

I held onto him for dear life as he fucked and kissed me slow.

Suddenly I felt him shift his arms.

One powerful hand clutched my ass and kept me suspended midair…

And the other reached around my front, pulling aside my skirt…

Until he found my clit.

He got his finger wet with my juices…

And then he slowly began to circle my clit…

Softly…

Firmly…

Going a little bit faster…

All while his enormous cock was filling me up.

“Adriano, no!” I whispered frantically as I broke off our kiss.

I could already feel an enormous orgasm building – one I wasn’t sure I could keep quiet.

“Yes,” he whispered in my ear.

“I’m going to scream,” I whimpered.

“Scream or don’t, I don’t care,” he growled in my ear. “Just come for me, baby. Come for me now.”

His words tipped me over the edge.

I put my lips against his skin and screamed.

Ever put your arm in your mouth as a little kid and try to yell?

Then you know that there’s just a little eeee, but not loud at all.

That’s what happened.

There was hardly any noise…

Even though it was sooooooooo fucking good.

The slowness of him moving inside me…

How big and thick he was…

How softly yet firmly he caressed my clit…

I didn’t just come, I kept coming.

Over and overin waves.

I would scream into his skin, then grit my teeth and force myself not to make a sound as I caught my breath –

And then I would hold onto his neck so hard I thought I would break it.

But he just kept moving inside me slowly…

Filling me up…

So thick…

So huge…

His finger playing with my clit…

Circling it…

Stroking it…

Slow and steady…

I felt like I was turning to jelly.

“You’ve gotta come, you’ve gotta come,” I gasped after the fifth straight orgasm rolled through me. It was like they overlapped – I couldn’t tell where one ended and the next one began.

He sounded amused. “Why?”

“Cause I can’t take anymore,” I whimpered.

“You sure?” he whispered in my ear as he continued to fuck me slowly and stroke me gently.

I nodded frantically, not trusting myself to speak because I was afraid I would cry out.

“Okay, then,” he chuckled –

And he began to fuck me harder.

Faster.

His cock pulled out farther and rammed into me deeper.

There was a wet slap slap slap slap as he thrust inside me.

OH GOD –

That just made it worse!

And by ‘worse,’ I mean so much better.

His hand holding my ass gripped me tight…

And I felt his fingertip touch my pussy lips.

For a second I wondered why –

And then his fingertip began to touch my asshole.

Just baaaarely going in –

But he was speeding up his thrusting –

And being rougher with my clit –

And at the same time slowly easing his fingertip inside my ass.

And I loved it.

I bit his shoulder and screamed into his skin one last time as the mother of all orgasms rocked my world –

Which only got more powerful when I heard him grunt “UNH!” in my ear.

I felt him spurting inside me –

And I hung onto him frantically, raking my fingernails across his back as I silently screamed.

He began to slow down…

His finger began to slowly move around my clit rather than directly over it…

And his finger stopped whatever it was doing to my rear end as he went back to merely supporting my ass.

I pulled back my head from his neck, feeling like I was drunk.

He pulled back, too, and looked at me.

He was covered in a sheen of sweat…

And I was glistening.

We stared at each other…

And then he leaned forward and kissed me tenderly.

I kissed him back…

And we stayed like that for another minute, slowly kissing, until he finally lifted me up off of him and set me back on the floor.

42

It was a bit awkward checking out at the register afterwards.

The clerk – who I’d seen before on previous trips to the thrift shop – kept looking at me and Adriano out of the side of her eye as she rang us up.

I was pretty sure she knew we’d had sex in the changing room.

I noticed her gaze lingered a lot longer on Adriano.

I was irritated with the bedroom eyes she kept flashing him, but he barely seemed to notice her.

He wasn’t happy with the clothes he was wearing – ripped jeans, wife-beater t-shirt, a short-sleeved clubbing shirt unbuttoned along the front, along with some Doc Martins –

But at least he was pretty mellow after the sex.

I guess having an orgasm chilled him out.

We had also grabbed a nylon gym bag that he’d stuffed his suit, shirt, and dress shoes inside.

Just as the girl was finishing ringing us up, I saw the finishing touch.

“Add these,” I said, grabbing two pairs of cheap sunglasses and two baseball caps from a nearby display.

“NO,” Adriano said sternly.

“Yes,” I whispered, then pecked him on the lips. “Please?”

He grumbled, but he allowed me to put the shades and ball cap on him.

“There… now you look like a tourist,” I said happily. “Or a guy trying to make it in a local rock band.”

“Great,” he muttered.

The Doc Martins were the biggest expense and pushed the total up to 147 euros.

Adriano peeled two hundred-euro bills from his bankroll and handed them over. “Keep the change.”

The checkout girl looked shocked but happy.

As we walked out of the store, I put on my pair of sunglasses and tucked my hair up under the ball cap.

“These clothes feel fuckin’ weird,” Adriano muttered as we strolled along the sidewalk.

“Not used to anything besides designer suits, huh?” I teased him.

“Not really, no,” he admitted. “Although I gotta say, these boots would be great for kicking the shit out of somebody.”

“Wonderful,” I said sarcastically. “I’m glad you like something in your outfit.”

He chuckled as we reached the Mercedes, which he’d parked in a small lot for the train station. He popped the trunk, threw in the nylon bag, and shut it again.

“Are we going to use the car?” I asked. “Unless you want people to think you’re a drug dealer, you don’t look like you should be driving a Mercedes worth a hundred grand.”

“Try 400 grand.”

I stared at him. “What?!”

“It’s a Maybach. Plus the bulletproofing costs a lot more.”

“Um… is bulletproofing something we need to worry about?” I asked nervously.

“Not if we’re just going to low-end dives. I want to keep the car nearby in case we run into trouble, but we should probably walk.”

“That’s fine. The first place is just down the road.”

Five minutes later and we reached the first betting parlor.

It was off an alleyway – a basement-level complex at the bottom of a crumbling building. Steps led down to it from the street level, and there was a metal door with a speakeasy slide so they could look out and see who you were.

I knew about this place because my father brought me here when I was 11, during one of his most shameful phases. He was so deep into his addiction at one point that he would take me with him if Mama had to work late.

“Don’t tell your mother,” he would always plead.

So during my teenage years, I knew exactly where to check when he would disappear for days at a time. My mother had driven us around to all his familiar haunts, and we’d gone in to find him and shame him into coming home.

He would try to hide from us in the bathroom – but either his fellow gamblers would heckle him until he slunk out with his tail between his legs, or the guys who ran the parlors would kick him out.

“Hold on,” Adriano cautioned me as I started down the alley towards the door.

“What?”

He gestured with his head, and I followed him down the block to another alleyway. We walked until we reached a dumpster about 40 feet from the street.

He pulled out his pistol from the back of his jeans; the clubbing shirt hid it nicely while he walked.

Then he pulled three more clips out of his pockets. He wrapped everything in a crumpled piece of newspaper he found on the ground, then hid it behind some broken cinderblocks.

“Uh… wouldn’t it be a good idea for you to have that on you?” I asked nervously.

“Yeah, but the first thing they’re gonna do is frisk me when I walk in. There’s probably a couple hundred grand down there, if it’s the kind of place I think it is, and they don’t want anybody robbing them.”

“Oh,” I said, looking around to make sure no one was watching us. “Why’d we come over here? Couldn’t you have hidden it in the alley by the door?”

“They might have security cameras. Better to do it here where I know they’re not watching.”

We walked out of the alleyway and back to the betting parlor’s entrance. I rapped on the metal door and waited until the rectangular grill opened up.

A guy’s eyes peered down at me. Even with the limited view, I could tell he was heavyset.

“What?” he asked gruffly.

“I’m looking for Fabrizio Lettieri,” I said. “I’m his daughter.”

“He ain’t here,” the man said.

“Yeah, that’s what you guys always used to say – until Beppe let us in.”

‘Beppe’ was the name of the old codger who’d been running the place ever since I could remember.

The guy behind the door narrowed his eyes – and then he burst out laughing. “You Bianca? Little B?”

I took off the ball cap and sunglasses so he could get a better look. “That’s me.”

“Shit, I remember you comin’ around here… what was it, six or seven years ago?”

“Yup.”

He looked at Adriano. “Who’s he?”

“My boyfriend. He came with me because my mom’s tired of dealing with my father’s shit.”

“Mm,” the guy grunted sympathetically.

The grill slid shut, and there was a metallic grinding sound as the door opened up.

I remembered the doorman now that I saw him, though I didn’t know his name. He was about 350 pounds, most of it fat, and was sweating through his maroon-colored bowling shirt.

“Little B,” he said, then looked me over lecherously. “You sure filled out.”

“Thanks,” I said sarcastically as I brushed past him. “Where’s Beppe?”

“He’s in the back. Hold on, tough guy,” the doorman said as he stopped Adriano and patted him down. “What’s this?”

Adriano pulled out his bankroll. “Just in case we need to pay off his debts.”

“Or maybe play a few hands, huh?” the doorman chuckled. “Alright, go on in.”

Adriano followed me through a hallway into the half-lit underworld of Florentine gambling.

The back room was hazy with cigar smoke. A dozen tables were packed with older and middle-aged men, although there were a couple of guys in their 20s. No women at all. There were also no windows, which kept the room in a perpetual state of twilight.

There was blackjack, poker, craps, even two roulette wheels.

Florence had casinos – gambling was legal in the city – but drugs were heavily monitored in them.

In the betting parlors, you could get just about anything you wanted: uppers, downers, cocaine, heroin, meth.

Not to mention the back-alley places would let you run tabs the casinos would never agree to… because the casinos wouldn’t send thugs to break your legs if you couldn’t pay up.

A man in his 70s with thick white hair and thick eyeglasses came over. “Hey, is that you, Bianca?”

“Hey, Beppe.”

“Holy shit, you sure grew up!”

“And you look just as young as always.”

He laughed. “Ah, you charmer.” Then he glanced at Adriano. “This your fella?”

“Yeah. Is my dad here?”

“Who, ‘Fabio Flambeur’? Naw, I ain’t seen him for weeks.”

I tilted my head to the side playfully, like Come on. “Seriously, Beppe?”

The old man held up his right hand. “I swear on the Virgin’s left tit. Ain’t seen him since a couple of Saturdays ago.”

“Alright…”

Beppe leaned in and whispered. “You should be careful, kid. The Agrellas got whacked last night.”

“Whacked?” I said, feigning shock.

Beppe drew a finger across his neck like a knife slashing his throat. “Took ‘em out. Word is some assholes from the countryside did it.”

“Really,” I said as I made my eyes appropriately wide.

“Yeah. So whoever comes collectin’ his debts might not be as forgiving as Sergio, you know what I’m sayin’?”

“Gotcha… thanks for the heads-up.”

“Sure thing, doll. If he comes by, I’ll let him know you’re lookin’ for him.”

“Thanks, Beppe.”

“No problem.”

I took Adriano’s arm and walked out with him.

“Don’t be a stranger,” the fat doorman said on the way out. I was pretty sure he was checking out my ass.

“That fuckin’ asshole,” Adriano growled as we stepped into the sunlight.

I smiled. “Is somebody jealous?”

“No… but he shouldn’t be makin’ his fuckin’ comments.”

“Have you met any Italian men lately?”

“Ha ha,” he said without laughing. “What was that about ‘Fabio Flambeur’?”

“Just my dad’s nickname. Fabio is short for Fabrizio – ”

“I got that part – but ‘Flambeur’ isn’t Italian.”

“No, it’s French. It’s slang for a high-roller or somebody on a hot streak… like flames coming off his fingertips when he rolls the dice. It was a joke. Because my dad was such a shitty gambler.”

“Huh…”

“They know about the Agrellas,” I said worriedly.

“And did you catch the part about the guys from the countryside?” he asked grimly.

“Yeah?”

“That would be my family. Our place is out in Tuscany.”

I stared at Adriano in alarm. “But you said – ”

“We didn’t do it. But whoever’s behind it is trying to make it look like we did.”

“But… doesn’t that make you look tough?”

“Yeah, but it also makes us look bad to the rest of the Cosa Nostra – like we stabbed the Agrellas in the back. And if somebody’s feeding that lie to the cops, they might come after us, too.”

“Oh shit…”

Adriano reached out and took my hand. “After I get my gun, I need to call my brothers – and we need to go check out the other places you know.”

I lagged a little behind him as he started walking.

He looked over his shoulder at me. “What?”

I looked down at my hand in his.

He realized that he’d taken it without thinking about it.

“What, you don’t want to hold my hand?” he said as he let go –

“No – I do,” I said with a big grin on my face, and latched onto his hand and wouldn’t let go. I stepped up on my tip-toes to give him a kiss. “I do.”

He kissed me back, then smiled and shook his head like I was crazy…

And we walked down the street, hand in hand.

43

Adriano

My mind was on getting my gun, calling my brothers, and figuring out what all this new info meant.

And – if I’m going to be honest – I was concentrating on Bianca.

When I held her hand, she was adorable.

I hadn’t thought anything of it –

But she acted like it meant a lot to her.

And I liked that.

I liked seeing her smile…

And I liked seeing her happy.

I liked making her happy. And not just in bed.

So I had a lot of things going on in my head…

Which is why I didn’t see them coming.

Actually, that’s not entirely true, either.

I was continually scanning the streets, always on the lookout. It’s a habit of growing up in the mafia.

The thing was, I was looking for guys in suits…

Or at least dressed with some degree of self-respect…

Or ‘roided out and built like a weightlifter.

In short, I was looking for mafiosos. Gangsters.

I wasn’t expecting a couple of tweakers who looked like they crawled out of a garbage pile…

And that was my mistake.

We had just turned into the alleyway to get my gun when I heard footsteps coming up behind us.

I instinctively thought Oh shit and swung Fiona behind me to protect her.

I was ready to launch myself at whoever it was – maybe one of the bouncers from the betting hall –

But instead it was two assholes with stains all over their tattered clothing and dark circles under their red-rimmed eyes.

The one on the right had a buzzcut.

The one on the left had long, greasy hair.

They stood about ten feet away, and they both looked like shit.

I was expecting them to pull a knife.

Imagine my surprise when Buzzcut pointed a gun at me. His arm trembled as he did it.

“Gimme your fuckin’ money,” he hissed. “Now.”

As guns go, his was a piece of trash. A snub-nosed revolver, cheap and badly made – what Americans would call a Saturday Night Special. Some small-time drug dealer had probably used it to pop somebody and then tossed in the gutter as he was running from the cops.

Gun laws in Italy are some of the toughest in Europe. You got caught with an unlicensed pistol on you, you were looking at three to five years.

Which meant if Buzzcut could avoid it, he wouldn’t shoot me. He didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention.

Which gave me an advantage.

Still, I played it super cool.

“No problem,” I said as I held up my hands so they knew I was cooperating.

That’s the thing about junkies: they’re twitchy and unpredictable, so it was best to play along.

That is, until an opportunity presented itself to take them down.

But then Greasy walked around to my left and started eyeballing Bianca.

“Well what do have we here,” he said with a big, ugly, rotten-toothed grin.

I felt Bianca move further behind, frightened.

I wasn’t frightened.

I was fucking angry.

“Hey – asshole – stay where you are,” I snapped.

Buzzcut took a step forward. “YOU shut UP and give me your money!”

“Then YOU tell your friend to – HEY!”

Greasy darted in and tried to grab Bianca.

I was about to punch him when I heard the unmistakable click of a hammer being cocked.

I turned back to see Buzzcut’s arm shaking.

He was terrified.

Normally that would have been a point in my favor…

But scared people do stupid shit.

Scared drug addicts do unpredictable, stupid shit.

“I’ll give you my money,” I said, “but tell your friend to leave her alone or I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”

“Pietro, leave her alone,” Buzzcut hissed.

Greasy little Pietro just cackled. I could smell his rancid body order from here.

“Look,” I said as I slowly reached into my pocket, “I’m getting you the money… I’m pulling it out…”

I produced my rubber-band-wrapped bankroll and held it at waist level so he could see it.

It was a couple inches thick – about five grand in 100-euro notes.

Buzzcut’s eyes lit up like he’d just seen the face of God.

That was a looooooot of crystal meth, or black tar heroin, or whatever the fuck he was on.

But Greasy took the opportunity to grab Bianca’s wrist and pull her away from me.

She screamed.

Okay, FUCK this shit.

“Here, I’m tossing it to you,” I said, and underhanded the bankroll into the air.

I specifically aimed for somewhere over Buzzcut’s head – on his gun side.

Being an idiot, he did what I expected:

He tried to catch it with both hands –

Which meant the gun was pointed up in the air.

I struck fast as a cobra – leapt over, grabbed the gun, and twisted it off to the side so the trigger guard broke his finger.

Snap!

“AAAAAH!” he screamed.

Then I put my hand against his head and SLAMMED him into the brick wall hard as I could.

There was a satisfying CRACK, and Buzzcut went out like a light.

His legs buckled underneath him and he slumped to the ground.

I pulled the gun out of his limp hand and turned around.

Greasy was standing behind Bianca now, his filthy arm around her neck.

Both of their eyes were big as saucers as they saw me turn.

Fury boiled up inside me –

But there was no way in hell I was going to fire the gun.

Number one: it was a piece of shit.

I had shot Sergio last night from an even longer distance than Greasy was from me now, but that was with my gun.

With this gutter piece, I might actually hit Bianca if I fired.

Hell, it might not even fire at all –

Or it might blow up in my hand.

Number two: if I fired a shot, that could bring the cops running if any were nearby.

So I was not going to shoot the gun.

Instead, I flicked the release switch, swung the cylinder out with a flick of my wrist –

And dumped the bullets out on the ground.

The brass casings tinkled as they fell around my feet.

Greasy grinned.

He must’ve thought he was out of danger –

That I was some pacifist dipshit who wouldn’t hurt him.

Wrong.

So, so wrong.

I flicked the cylinder back into the gun and grabbed it by the barrel…

Which turned it into a club.

A heavy, metal club.

And I lunged at him.

He realized too late just how badly he’d fucked up…

And just how bad things were about to get for him.

44

Bianca

I was panicking.

The guy with the greasy hair had just grabbed me and pulled me away from Adriano.

I shrieked, then nearly gagged from the stench coming off him as he wrapped his filthy arm around my neck.

I’d expected danger today –

But more like getting shot at by a bunch of mafiosos.

Not getting attacked in a back alley by a meth head.

I struggled to break free, but he was surprisingly strong. His arm locked around my neck like a vise.

I looked over at Adriano, hoping to see him racing towards me –

But he still had his back turned.

And the drug addict behind me was pulling me away.

Oh God, no –

And then half a dozen things happened in just a few seconds.

Adriano threw something into the air –

Then he was running towards the other junkie –

And I saw him twist the gun off to the side with a loud snap.

The man screamed –

And immediately went silent as his head slammed into the brick wall.

Then Adriano turned around…

The gun in his hand and murder in his eyes.

I had seen him look like that once before, after the shooting at the hotel.

I’d been terrified at the time, thinking his anger would be directed at me.

Now I rejoiced silently.

The guy behind me?

Not so much.

“Oh shit,” he whispered.

Then Adriano did something I didn’t expect:

He flicked the gun out in the air –

And dropped all the bullets on the ground.

Clink clink clink clink clink.

I was stunned.

Why did he do THAT?!

The asshole holding me hostage was elated.

I heard him chuckle, like he couldn’t believe his good luck –

Which lasted all of two seconds.

Adriano switched his grip on the gun so he was holding it by the barrel –

And then he rushed forward, his face insane with rage.

Adriano’s left hand tore the man’s arm away from my neck, snapping the guy’s fingers.

The man screamed.

As I scrambled away, I heard a heavy THUNK behind me –

And the man screamed again as he fell to the ground.

I watched in shock as Adriano repeatedly clubbed him with the gun, grunting every time he landed a blow.

“YOU – MOTHER – FUCKING – PIECE – OF SHIT – ”

The guy shrieked as he tried to fend off the blows –

But Adriano just smacked aside his arms and went back to bludgeoning his head.

The guy’s face was already covered in blood when Adriano started stomping him in the head with his Doc Martens.

“STOP!” I screamed, and ran over to pull Adriano off him.

I hated the guy on the ground.

I knew what he’d intended to do to me –

But I had never seen another human brutalized like that before…

Not even by the mafia.

And it terrified me.

“STOP, please STOP!” I cried as I pulled at Adriano’s shirt.

He immediately quit as soon as I touched him.

But he loomed over the man like the Grim Reaper, breathing hard as he glared down at the guy’s ruined face.

Then Adriano looked at me – and all his rage instantly dissipated. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I sobbed, “just, please… don’t hurt him anymore.”

Adriano looked down at the limp body on the ground and bared his teeth in a snarl. “He deserves to DIE for touching you.”

I was pretty sure that’s what would have happened if I hadn’t intervened.

As it was, the guy would never look the same – and he’d probably be sipping his meals through a straw for months.

“I know, I know, just… please… don’t,” I whispered frantically, trying to pull Adriano away before he started again.

His breathing gradually slowed, and he nodded.

He walked over to the cinderblocks where he’d hidden his gun…

Took off the piece of newspaper everything was wrapped in…

And used it to wipe flecks of blood off his hands.

Then he wiped the entire revolver, probably to remove any fingerprints…

And tossed it onto the guy’s broken body.

Finally, he retrieved the magazines and pistol and stuffed them into his pockets and the back of his jeans.

Then he turned to me. “I need to wash up… and I think you need a drink.”

I nodded numbly and let him lead me out of the alleyway.

45

Adriano

We sat in a booth in a hole-in-the-wall dive bar.

It was around 4PM, so we were the only ones in the place besides the bartender and a couple of barflies.

Still, though, I kept an eye on the door. The encounter with the two addicts had unnerved me a little.

It had apparently shaken Bianca to the core.

I’d made her accompany me to the restroom, where I’d washed the remaining blood off my hands.

Then I paid for two shot glasses of brandy and carried them back to the booth.

“Drink that,” I ordered.

She downed the first shot and coughed.

I slid the second one over to her in case she needed it.

The color gradually came back into her cheeks, but she still didn’t say anything.

I regretted she’d seen it…

But I sure as hell didn’t regret doing it.

“You’re safe now,” I said.

“Am I?” she asked in an accusatory voice.

“Well, there’s still whoever killed the Agrellas, but – ”

“That’s not what I meant,” she whispered as she dropped her eyes to the table.

“…are you talking about me?!”

She glanced up at me fearfully, then looked back at the empty shot glass.

“Babe – ” I said as I reached across the table for her hand –

But she jerked it away.

I sat there for a moment in silence, thinking about how best to approach the situation.

“What did I do to the guy with the gun?” I finally asked.

Her gaze rose to meet mine.

Before she could answer, I said, “I knocked him out. Broke his finger to get the gun away from him, yes – but other than that, all I did was knock him out. He’ll probably wake up with a concussion and he’ll have to get that finger splinted… but that’s it. You know why he got off so easy?”

She shook her head slowly.

“Because he told the other guy to stay away from you.”

What I didn’t tell her was that if we’d been out in the countryside where nobody would have heard or seen anything, the guy would’ve gotten a couple extra nostrils.

He was lucky he’d pulled this shit in the city on a day when I didn’t need any extra attention.

I didn’t want to muddy the waters, though, so I left all of that out.

“But the other guy – he put his hands on you,” I hissed. “That guy was going to hurt you. And that’s why I did what I did.”

She looked at me for a long moment.

Then she whispered, “You could have killed him.”

“Damn straight. NO ONE touches you. Not like that. NO ONE.”

She continued staring into my eyes.

Then she finally said what I figured was at the root of all this.

“…what if I make you mad?”

I shook my head. “No. Never. I would never raise a finger against you. I don’t give a shit how mad you made me – I would never, ever hit you. NEVER.

“Number one, because I don’t want to…

“And number two, because I don’t hurt women. Only weak-ass pieces of shit who aren’t real men hurt women. And I am not a weak-ass piece of shit.

“I would never, ever, not in a million years hurt you, Bianca. That is the God’s honest truth. I swear it on my mother’s grave.”

Bianca just kept looking at me…

And I could see that the fear was gone from her eyes.

I reached across the table for her hand.

This time she gave it to me.

I pulled her hand to my lips…

…and I kissed it. Hard.

“You are beyond important to me,” I said. “Never doubt that. I will always keep you safe… and I will KILL any motherfucker who tries to hurt you. That I swear on my father’s grave.”

“Let’s… maybe… just not talk about killing people for a while?” she asked softly.

I kissed her hand again. “You got it.”

She nodded… took a deep breath and blew it out… then downed the second shot. “Okay… I think I’m good now.”

“Okay.”

We got up out of the booth and she turned towards the door.

“Bianca,” I said.

She turned back towards me –

And I circled my arms around her waist and kissed her.

Softly… gently.

She stiffened at first –

But then she melted into me, returning my kiss with equal tenderness.

We broke off when one of the old men at the bar yelled, “Get a room, you two!”

He laughed after he said it, though.

Bianca looked at me apprehensively, like she was worried about my reaction –

But I said, “Nothin’ I’d like better, old man,” as I took her hand and led her out of the bar.

The old guy and the other barflies cheered as we walked out.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t time for what I really wanted.

Because we had a job to do.

46

Bianca

The whole thing in the alleyway freaked me out.

It seriously scared me.

But Adriano put me at ease…

And as I stared into his eyes, I believed him.

You are beyond important to me.

Those words made me melt when he said them.

You are beyond important to me.

It was too early for us to be saying I love you…

And he WAS in the mafia, after all.

I mean, just ten minutes earlier, I thought he was a raving psychopath.

But the tenderness in his eyes when he said it…

What I heard was, You are beyond important to me…

But what I felt was, I love you.

And there was another thing I knew:

That he was absolutely sincere about killing anybody who tried to hurt me.

Before today, hearing a guy say that would have freaked me out.

But when Adriano laid it all out in the bar, and I could hear the warmth and concern in his voice…

It made me feel safe.

Which was a huge relief, because I walked through the world feeling unsafe all the time.

Not just from the mafia and the shit that was happening today –

But the ordinary, everyday things I had to deal with.

The things every woman has to deal with.

Be careful where you walk and be aware of everything around you.

Don’t go out when it’s dark unless it’s a well-lit street, and even then be careful.

Be mindful of what you wear, because who knows what asshole might use it as an excuse.

Don’t drink anything from a cup a stranger hands you, because who knows what he put in it. Only drink out of a beer bottle or soda can that you open yourself – or that you watch get opened in front of you.

Have your key in your hand when you go up to unlock your door so you can use it to stab an attacker’s face.

Carry mace or pepper spray in your purse.

Honestly, it was exhausting.

Fear was a built-in part of my everyday existence.

But suddenly, Adriano was there saying, Not anymore.

I got this handled.

You can relax…

Because if anyone messes with you, they won’t live to regret it.

I could feel the tension draining out of my body.

I knew there was still danger to come… a lot of danger…

But now I knew there was somebody who had my back.

Somebody who was powerful…

And brave…

And not afraid to fight for me.

Not afraid to stand up for me.

Not afraid to do whatever it took to keep me safe.

And that made all the difference in the world.

47

After the bar, we hit another four betting parlors – all of them in or near the old part of Florence.

Nothing.

None of them had any idea where my father was.

At two of the places, I knew the guys who ran things.

At the other two, I didn’t. They initially told us to go away, but when I mentioned ‘Fabio Flambeur,’ they knew I was on the level.

But nobody had any information whatsoever.

After the fifth place, I threw up my hands. “That’s it – I don’t know any other places.”

“There’s one more place we should check,” Adriano said.

“Where’s that?”

“The modeling agency. Do you remember where it is?”

“Yes, but… is that a good idea?”

“Whether it is or not, it’s the only option we have left.”

“Won’t there be people with guns there?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Adriano smirked. “But I’ve got a gun, too.”

I felt sick to my stomach, but I nodded.

The agency was on the outskirts of the old quarter, close enough to walk to.

Ten minutes later, we were standing in front of the building where Sergio had brought me yesterday.

It was after 6 PM on a Saturday. Even if the other businesses in the building had been open today, they would be closed by now – and there was nobody in the lobby.

There wasn’t a front desk, so we walked right to the elevators.

After I punched the button and the door closed, Adriano took off his clubbing shirt.He looked damn good in his wife-beater with his muscular arms and tats fully visible.

“I don’t think we have enough time for a quickie,” I joked.

“Later,” he said with a grin as he took out his gun.

“What the hell are you doing?!” I exclaimed.

“Getting ready,” he said as he wrapped the black shirt over the gun.

To a casual observer, it would look like he was carrying a balled-up shirt in his hand…

Not a concealed weapon.

By the time the elevator door opened, his pistol was completely hidden.

We walked out of the elevator and over to the glass doors of the modeling agency.

Same all-white reception area with Agenzia di Modelle Fiorentina in 12-inch silver letters –

But the lights were off, and there was no one inside.

Adriano pulled the handles on the glass doors, but they didn’t budge.

“Well, I guess that’s a dead end,” I said. “Let’s go.”

“Hold on,” Adriano said.

He walked down the hallway to all the other offices.

Most of them were nondescript brown doors. Little plaques on the walls bore the name of the business. There were a couple of doctors and dentists, a therapist, and one import/export company. For the other three, it was impossible to tell what they were from the vague company name.

Adriano tried the door handle for each and every one, then knocked loudly.

No one answered.

By the time we’d circled around to the modeling agency, we’d confirmed that not a single office was open.

“Well, that was a waste of time,” I muttered.

“Not at all,” he said as he unwrapped his shirt from his gun. “Cover your ears.”

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head. “What the hell are you – ”

“Cover your ears!” he snapped angrily.

As soon as I did, he fired at the glass doors.

BLAM!

One shot was all it took.

The right door shattered into a thousand pieces.

Adriano stepped through the empty gap, glass gritting under his Doc Martins, gun pointed at the door at the rear of the room.

“What the HELL!” I hissed as I followed him.

“I’m not leaving here without some answers.” He glanced over at the receptionist’s desk. “That’s interesting.”

“What?”

“There’s a monitor but no computer.”

I looked closer.

He was right. There was a monitor on the receptionist’s desk… but no computer attached. The cord from the monitor just dangled by the chair.

“There was definitely one there last night,” I said. “I remember the screen was lit up as I walked past it.”

Adriano nodded, wrapped his left hand in the black shirt, and tried the door at the back of the room.

I dreaded what would come next if it was locked.

Another gunshot, or kicking it in –

But the door opened easily.

Adriano kept his gun ready and clicked on a light next to the door.

The hallway lit up with fluorescent lights.

The entire place was deserted.

“You said there was an office where you saw the guy with cruel eyes. Show me, but don’t touch anything.”

“Why not?”

“Fingerprints.”

Oh –

So that was why he’d wrapped his left hand with the shirt.

I retraced the steps I’d taken last night. Adriano stayed next to me, his gun pointed down the hall.

I reached what I thought was the right spot. “This one… I think.”

Adriano opened the office door –

And there was the framed Art Deco print hanging on the wall.

“This is it,” I said. “I remember that poster.”

Adriano walked in and flicked on the light. I followed close behind.

Nothing in the room looked like it had been touched –

Except the computer was gone, just like the lobby.

“They cleaned the place out,” Adriano said.

“What does that mean?”

“It means the agency was a front… and once they wiped out the Agrellas, they took whatever records they could grab and walked away.” He shook his head. “It’s another dead end… let’s go.”

“Can we try to find my purse?”

“We can try.”

We went to the studio area where all the clothes and makeup stations were. Everything was empty.

My clothes were where I’d left them, sitting in a pile on the floor –

But my purse was gone.

“Shit,” I whimpered.

I’d secretly hoped they didn’t know who I was…

But now I couldn’t pretend anymore.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Adriano reassured me.

“They have my ID.”

“They already knew who you were.”

“Yeah, but – ”

“How much money did you have?”

I snorted. “Like, three euros.”

“Any credit cards?”

“Maxed out.”

“Well, then, no big deal.” He grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll be your sugar daddy.”

I made a face. “Please don’t say that.”

He laughed. “Come on – let’s go.”

48

Since we were already close to the old part of Florence, we decided to go back there for dinner and to discuss our next steps.

In our baseball caps and sunglasses, we blended in effortlessly with the thousands of tourists walking around. Natural camouflage.

As we looked for a restaurant, I was reminded once again that the old part of Florence really is beautiful.

You have medieval buildings looming over narrow streets…

Masterpieces of Renaissance sculpture around every corner…

Gorgeous public squares like the Piazza della Signoria…

Glorious structures like the Duomo, a massive domed cathedral – and the most recognizable building in Florence…

The ancient bridges crossing the Arno river…

It all would’ve been terribly romantic if mafia hitmen weren’t hunting us.

We settled on a restaurant that looked good but was filled with tourists, which allowed us to hide in plain sight.

Adriano and I sat in a booth. He watched the doorway and had me watch the rear of the restaurant in case anyone suspicious came out through the kitchen.

“Tell me more about your father,” he said as we ate. He was having papardelle al cinghiale, or wild boar pasta; I was having tagliatelle funghi porcini e tartufo – pasta with truffle and porcini mushrooms.

“What do you want to know?”

“More about his job – besides the things he does with judges,” Adriano said euphemistically.

“I think he schedules court cases. That’s how he has so much access to the judges and lawyers – he’s constantly contacting them with changes to the docket, so it’s no big deal for him to call them or drop by.”

“Would any of his co-workers know where he is?”

“I don’t even know any of them. He never hung out with them – he only went to the gambling parlors. And when he tried to go straight, he would just come home to my mother.”

Suddenly I was overcome with fear. My eyes welled up with tears.

“What’s wrong?” Adriano asked.

“What if he’s already… gone? What if he’s buried out in the woods somewhere – ”

Adriano grabbed my hand across the booth and squeezed it. “No. Don’t think like that.”

“But he’s only called me once. Why hasn’t he returned any of my calls or my texts?”

“Maybe he had to ditch his phone. Maybe he lost it. Maybe it got taken away from him.”

“But – ”

“Bianca,” he said calmly. “We’re gonna find him.”

“How do you know?” I whispered.

I knew, deep down, that he didn’t know –

But I desperately wanted hope, because all of mine was slipping away.

More than anything, I wanted him to tell me it was all going to be okay.

“Because it’s my number one mission,” he said – then paused and raised an eyebrow like he’d changed his mind. “Well… number two.”

“What’s number one?” I asked in irritation, sure it would be something about his family business.

“Making sure nothing happens to you,” he said as he stared into my eyes.

I cried a little, but I smiled through my tears.

He smiled back the tiniest bit –

And then his phone buzzed.

He pulled it out and read a text. Then he tapped the screen, and his face darkened.

“What?” I asked nervously.

“Niccolo sent me a link. The story hit the newspapers.”

He handed the phone to me.

COSA NOSTRA WAR?

There was a picture of a burnt-out mansion, a giant structure of blackened stone with a caved-in roof.

I scanned the article.

The fire claimed the life of Dominic Agrella, a notorious local figure linked to organized crime. Other victims were members of his family, including his wife Amelia and brother Bautiste. Police believe the fire was intentionally set.

Agrella’s brother Carmine also died last night, killed in the mass shooting at the Patrician Hotel.

The simultaneous nature of the deaths has led police to speculate they were the result of a war in the Cosa Nostra, and that rival families might be behind the murders.

“Your last name’s Rosolini, right?” I asked.

I remembered it from the notification on my phone when Adriano sent me the 5000 euros for Emma.

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t mention you guys. That’s good, right?”

“Not really. They wouldn’t dare name us until they have proof. They’d be too scared.”

“But they pretty much say the Agrellas were in the mafia.”

“Because they’re dead,” Adriano said drily. “So there’s nobody left to sue them – or firebomb their offices.”

“Maybe they don’t know your family’s involved.”

“The police know. And they’ll be banging on our door before you know it.”

“I thought you… had friends in the police,” I said, employing my own euphemistic phrasing.

“We do, but it only goes so far. Something like this can’t be swept under the rug… which makes me think that when they didn’t get us last night, they resorted to Plan B.”

“What’s Plan B?”

“Pinning it on us.”

“…oh…”

I handed the phone back and Adriano put it away. Then he sighed.

“Fuck this. Let’s forget all about it for a while and talk about something else.”

“Just a guy and a girl out on a date?” I asked with a smile.

He smiled back. “Just a guy and a girl out on a date.”

49

Adriano

Other than the hot-as-hell sex last night…

Talking with Bianca was the nicest evening I’d had as far back as I could remember.

She told me she saw The Devil Wears Prada on DVD when she was eight years old, and that it made her want to be a fashion designer.

“It was Meryl Streep’s speech about cerulean blue that did it,” Bianca said with a huge smile.

“Haven’t seen it,” I said wryly.

“Let me guess: you only watch The Godfather,” she teased me.

“Don’t knock The Godfather. What’s the speech?”

“Anne Hathaway is wearing this blue sweater, and she kind of dismisses fashion… and Meryl Streep says what she doesn’t know is that the sweater isn’t blue, it’s cerulean… and that Oscar de la Renta did a collection of cerulean gowns, and then Yves Saint Laurent did cerulean jackets after that, and then eight other different designers used cerulean in their collections… and millions of dollars and tons of jobs were created by Oscar de la Renta’s work… and that everybody is affected by fashion, even when they don’t realize it, because it all filters down to the clothes that everyday people wear. I wanted that… I wanted to do something that people would think is beautiful and that would end up influencing everybody without them knowing it.”

“You decided that at eight years old?” I said, impressed.

She laughed – a beautiful sound. “I even learned to sew because I wanted to make ‘evening gowns’ out of my neighbor’s old curtains they left out in the trash.”

“Seriously?”

She suddenly looked embarrassed. “I know… it’s kind of dumb…”

“It’s not dumb, it’s awesome. I never had a choice growing up. It was just assumed I was going to go into the family business, and I never even questioned it. You had a dream at eight years old, and here you are making it a reality. That’s pretty fucking amazing.”

She looked up at me shyly. “…you think so?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“But… the odds of me ever getting to that level…”

“Yeah, well, I know this much: Oscar de la Renta didn’t pop out of the womb designing cerulean blue dresses. He started just like you did – like you’re doing right now.”

She sighed. “Yeah, but it’s hard.”

“No doubt.”

“Part of me doesn’t ever think it’s going to happen.”

I shrugged. “After all this is over, maybe I can hook you up with some people.”

She stared at me. “You know people in the fashion industry?!”

“I know people who know people. I’m sure I could call in a favor or two.”

“You’d… do that for me?”

I laughed. “Babe – compared to you risking your life to help me out, a couple of phone calls is nothing. It’s the absolute least I could do.”

“Yeah, but… it’s more like you’re helping me out right now. Finding my dad, I mean.”

“We’re helping each other.”

Her expression was like the sun came out from behind the clouds.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m gonna take care of you.”

And I meant it, 100%.

“What about me taking care of you, though?” she asked.

“You took care of me plenty last night and this morning.”

“Mm,” she murmured as she bit her lip, which was sexy as hell. “I’d love to take care of you right now.”

I grinned. “When we get out of here.”

“To be honest, though, you took care of me more than I took care of you. I mean, you ‘took care’ of me over… and over… and over… and over again,” she said in a sexy little purr.

“I’ll take care you of you some more when we get back home.”

I was starting to get a little hot and bothered –

When suddenly things took a turn for the serious.

She averted her eyes when she asked, “When was the last girlfriend you had?”

I answered honestly: “Never.”

She looked up in surprise. “What?! You’re joking.”

“Nope. Not if you mean anything longer than a couple of weeks.”

She looked a little concerned. “Why didn’t anything last?”

That one took a little explaining.

In my early 20s, my life had been a constant parade of women.

The problem with that was they all wanted something:

Money…

Gifts…

Or access to power.

Usually all three.

They wanted to be the girl that drove around with the mafioso in a Ferrari. They wanted to be seen.

They wanted to lounge around all day, go shopping for $10,000 handbags, and then have me fly them to Ibiza for a weekend of drugs and booze.

That shit gets old fast.

Yeah, the chicks enjoyed the sex… and some of them had actually been pretty good in the sack. I’d hooked up with a few of them from time to time.

But they all wanted something from me.

They didn’t want me.

Not really.

And when you’ve got a limitless supply of hot chicks in your life, why settle for just one?

But that had been my early 20s.

Now that I was 28, I was tired of the party lifestyle.

And with everything that had happened since my father died, I had no time for women who wanted to fuck me for what they could get out of me.

Honestly, my patience for it was down to zero…

Now that I’d seen what Dario had with Alessandra.

She was a good girl… a good person.

Beautiful, yes…

But she was with Dario because she wanted him.

In fact, she was totally uneasy with the whole Cosa Nostra thing.

If she could have ditched the mafioso lifestyle – including the money and the mansion – and just moved with Dario out to some shack in the middle of nowhere, I think she would have jumped at the chance.

That was the kind of woman I wanted.

Now that I’d seen it firsthand, I hungered for it.

And it felt like there was an empty hole where that part of my life should be.

Fucking a bunch of women was like taking shots lined up on a bar:

Fun for a while…

But the next morning, you have a hell of a hangover and nothing to show for it.

I wanted something that would last.

“Well?” Bianca prodded me again.

“Partly because I was fucked up… and partly because I kept going for fucked-up women,” I finally answered.

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s a ‘fucked-up woman’?”

“The kind who wants to be with a guy because he’s in my line of business.”

“Oh,” she said and made a little face. “Yeah, I can see that. But… what kind of woman do you want?”

I just stared at her and thought,

A woman who’s got a sharp little tongue that keeps me on my toes.

A woman who’s beautiful on the outside…

But has an even MORE beautiful soul deep down.

A woman who’s amazing in bed…

But who only sleeps with me because she wants me to fuck her, not because of what I can buy her.

A woman who knows what loyalty is… and who would risk her life to save the people she loves.

A woman who looks like you.

Of course, I didn’t say any of that.

I just kept it simple:

“Ride or die,” I said.

Bianca nodded thoughtfully. “That’s not just something you say, is it. That’s actually a thing for you… because you don’t know what might happen tomorrow.”

“None of us does,” I said quietly.

“No,” she said and smiled sadly. “None of us does.”

50

It was dark when we left the restaurant.

We were crossing the square near the Palazza Vecchio with its looming bell tower. There were still tourists around, but not nearly as many as before.

I had my arm around Bianca’s waist and was holding her close to my side.

We’d gotten pretty deep with the ‘ride or die’ stuff, but now we were back to just having a good time.

She was currently laughing at a story I’d just told her. When I was five years old, I’d tried to catch rabbits so I could breed them and start a rabbit empire.

“I heard they made a lot of little rabbits really fast, even though I didn’t know how they did it,” I said. “All I knew is if I could just get two of them and put them in a cage together, I’d have, like, a million in a couple of weeks.”

“What were you going to do with them?”

“Sell them! Everybody wants a pet rabbit, right? At least, that’s what five-year-old me thought.”

“See, you did have a dream when you were little!” she teased me.

“Yeah, I was going to be the bunny rabbit king of Tuscany. Too bad they were so damn hard to catch.”

“Well, you learned something from them,” she said in a seductive yet playful voice.

“What’s that?”

“Fuck-iiiiiin’,” she said, and giggled.

I chuckled. “Are you saying I’m quick in bed?”

“OH no – no, I would never accuse you of that. Quite the opposite.”

“Good,” I said as I pulled her in for kiss.

She melted into me, and we stood like that for nearly a minute, just kissing.

It felt good.

Hell, it felt amazing.

When we finally stopped and started walking again, she whispered, “Can we go back to your house?”

“Mm, I like the sound of…”

I trailed off.

A hundred feet away, several people were walking towards us, spaced about 50 feet apart.

Two men and a woman.

They weren’t dressed like tourists, which made them stand out –

But they weren’t dressed like your typical mob guys, either.

More working class.

I didn’t like the fact that they all seemed to be converging on a central point:

Us.

I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder.

Bianca looked up at me and sensed something had changed.

“What?” she whispered in alarm.

“Keep walking,” I whispered back. “Smile. And just go wherever I go.”

“Okay…”

I veered off to the left, guiding Bianca with my hand around her waist.

There was a fairly large group of tourists outside the Uffizi Gallery, the big museum in the plaza.

I headed straight for them.

“What is it?” Bianca whispered fearfully, although she kept a smile plastered on her face.

“Might be nothing, but I think we’re being followed.”

I could hear the terror in her voice as she asked, “The mafia?”

“I think it’s the cops.”

She started to turn her head –

“Don’t look,” I hissed. “Just keep staring straight ahead.”

“If it’s the cops, that’s not bad, is it?”

“It’s not good, that’s for su– ”

Suddenly two men broke out of the crowd of tourists with guns pointed at me and Bianca.

“POLICE!” they screamed. “HANDS UP!”

I had a snap decision to make.

If the cops were just puppets –

If whoever killed the Agrellas was paying them or manipulating them to take me down –

Then I couldn’t give them an excuse to open fire.

They wouldn’t want to shoot, either. Not out here in the open, where they could hit civilians.

And not with a bunch of tourists watching.

I pushed Bianca to the right so she would be far enough away from me if they opened fire –

And I dropped to my knees and put my hands in the air.

“I’m not resisting!” I shouted.

As I hoped, all the tourists were pointing their cell phones at me now –

Recording the arrest.

Which would make it harder for the cops to ‘accidentally’ shoot me.

If they did, a dozen videos would immediately go up on the internet showing that they’d killed me in cold blood.

That might have been the only thing that saved me.

The police all rushed in, their pistols aimed at my head.

A couple had their guns pointed at Bianca, too.

Somebody kicked me in the back, sending me slamming face-first into the cobblestones.

They pulled my arms behind me, and I felt cold metal around my wrists and heard the krrrrk of the cuffs.

Then somebody lifted my shirt up and pulled my gun from the back of my pants.

“Somebody’s lookin’ at some jail time, motherfucker,” a voice sneered.

It was true. The gun was unlicensed, a minor crime.

At least it was clean. I’d given the one I’d fired at the hotel last night to Lars. And I’d taken a fresh one that couldn’t be traced to any crimes.

But the gun was the least of my worries.

I looked over at Bianca, who was being cuffed as well.

She looked absolutely terrified.

“Don’t say anything,” I yelled at her. “Nothing.”

“Shut the fuck up,” one of the cops shouted as he hoisted me to my feet. He cranked my arms painfully up behind me, totally on purpose – just because he could.

“Lawyer,” I said.

“Sure, sure,” the cop said as he pushed me forward.

Thank god for the tourists’ cell phones.

Otherwise, it might have ended a very different way.

51

They took me to the Questura, the police headquarters in the middle of Florence, and booked me.

Now I sat alone in a tiny interrogation room, sipping on a bottle of water someone had given me.

The water was the first and only good thing the cops had done for me all night.

My right hand was cuffed to an iron ring in the top of a desk that was bolted to the floor, so I wasn’t goin’ anywhere.

The cops had left me to stew for the last 20 minutes, hoping it would soften me up.

Instead, I went through every detail I could think of, trying to figure out my next step.

They didn’t know my real name. My license said Bruno Capaldi, and that’s the name I gave them when they booked me.

They’d fingerprinted me, but I’d never been arrested and my prints weren’t on file. They wouldn’t know who I was unless somebody in their organized crime division recognized me from surveillance on my family. Until that happened, not a problem.

They took my cell phone as soon as they booked me.

Also not a problem. I had all my brothers’ phone numbers memorized.

The cop leading up the arrest – the one who had cranked my arms when he pulled me to my feet, and who had also slammed my head into the doorframe when he shoved me into the back of the squad car – tried to get my phone to open by holding it in front of my face.

Which probably wouldn’t have been admissible in court since he didn’t have a warrant…

But I had a feeling he didn’t care too much about that.

The other cops felt like they were on the level. No abuse, very professional. Assholes, sure, but they didn’t go out of their way to rough me up.

The one guy, though…

He had ‘on the take’ written all over him.

Unfortunately, it was my enemies who were lining his pockets.

Didn’t matter. I didn’t have Face ID enabled on my phone because of this very situation.

He had to have a code to open it, which I wasn’t about to provide.

And if he tried to crack it on his own, a special app on the phone would fry it after three failed attempts.

Before the lead cop put me in the interrogation room, I demanded a phone call.

Once I got in touch with Niccolo, he could pull some strings to get me out. He could also remotely trigger the app to destroy any info on the phone if need be.

But the cop ignored my demand for a phone call.

Instead, he cuffed me to the iron ring and left the room.

I used the time to think.

I hadn’t recognized anybody in the group that arrested me, but I knew every cop on our payroll. I hadn’t just memorized their names and departments, but their pictures, too.

If an opportunity presented itself, I’d try to get one of them alone so I could figure out what was going on.

Unfortunately, if the cops on our payroll had been double-dipping…

If they’d been getting paid off by the Agrellas while they were taking our money, too…

Then I had no idea who I could actually trust.

That could be a problem… but it was a risk I was going to have to take.

I also thought a lot about Bianca.

I hoped that she was holding up okay.

I’m sure it was scary for her to be detained like this…

Especially if they were sweating her and trying to get her to roll over on me.

Of course, she’d faced a lot worse shit over the last 24 hours. She could handle the police.

Cops played by the rules… mostly.

So I wasn’t too worried about them taking a phone book and slamming her in the face.

They might do it to me, but not a woman.

If anything, they would try to screw with her head.

Threaten her with jail… say she was an accomplice… anything to scare her.

Hopefully she would follow my instructions and not say a thing to them, not even her name.

I wondered if they had let her make a phone call…

And if so, who she had called.

Her mother?

Or maybe she’d tried her father again?

If he worked for the courthouse, he probably had some pull.

But if he hadn’t been answering her calls for the last 24 hours, there was no reason to think he would magically start now.

But panic made people make bad decisions.

If Bianca was smart, she’d call her mom. She was staying at our house, after all. As soon as Niccolo found out what was going on, he could set the wheels in motion to get us both out.

So hopefully Bianca didn’t waste her…

…one…

…phone call…

A bolt of insight hit me smack between the eyes.

I was just getting excited when the lead cop walked in and shut the door.

He was about my height, though not in nearly as good shape. He had a gut underneath his white dress shirt. His mustache and hair were flecked with grey, and the lines in his face told me he was on the north side of 40.

I also noticed he still had his gun in his holster.

That concerned me vaguely…

Because cops weren’t supposed to bring their firearms into interrogations.

I looked behind him to see if anybody else was coming in –

But they weren’t.

Then things got worse.

The cop gave me a smug, self-satisfied smile. “Well, well, well… Adriano Rosolini.”

Oh shit.

“That’s right,” he said. “I know exactly who you are.”

Either somebody in the Organized Crime division had ID’d me –

Or somebody else had told him who I was.

Probably somebody who wanted bad things to happen to me.

Hence the gun.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Detective Moretti.”

“Well, Detective Moretti,” I said calmly, “I want my phone call.”

“You’re not gettin’ it. Instead, you’re gonna tell me what I want to know.”

I just looked at him and waited.

“Where’s the girl’s father?”

So he knew about Bianca.

I looked up at the ceiling. There was a surveillance camera pointed down at me.

“It’s not on, dick wad,” Moretti said. “It’s just you and me.”

“Who’s paying you? I’ll triple it.”

He grinned smugly. After all, he had the upper hand. “You just worry about answering my goddamn questions.”

“The people paying you – do they know yet? Have you told them you’ve got Lettieri’s daughter?”

He hesitated.

I could see an uneasy flicker in his eyes.

So he hadn’t told them – not yet.

He probably wanted to look like a big shot by getting the answer first.

Because once the bad guys knew the cops had her, they would take her, pat him on the head, and tell him to fuck off. Don’t call us, we’ll call you.

Maybe he even wanted to find Lettieri himself so he could negotiate a bigger fee.

When he recovered from showing me his cards, he said, “I don’t think you understand, shithead – I ask the questions, not you. Where’s her father?”

“I don’t know.”

He backhanded me.

SMACK.

It stung, but it didn’t hurt too bad.

Didn’t matter.

I still wanted to kill the bastard –

But then I remembered I’d done the same thing to Massimo in the car last night.

I made a mental note to apologize to him for being a punk-ass bitch.

…if I got out of this.

“Where’s her father,” Moretti repeated.

Suddenly I started feeling extremely concerned for Bianca.

“We were looking for him all day, but we didn’t find him,” I said evenly, struggling to keep control of my temper.

“Then you’re no fuckin’ use to me,” he sneered.

“Who’s paying you?” I asked again. “I’ll quadruple it.”

“You assholes paid me peanuts for 20 years, and now you wanna make it up to me? When I’ve got you by the balls?”

I narrowed my eyes.

I didn’t recognize him from the rosters.

“Yeah,” he said, knowing that I was trying to place him. “They transferred me from Rome two weeks ago, you piece of shit.”

Now it made sense why I didn’t know who he was.

I didn’t know our Rome roster, and his transfer would have been recent enough that we might not be aware it had gone through…

Especially if our enemies had buried the records.

“Who’s ‘they’?” I asked. “Your cop bosses or your real bosses?”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with that. All I need to know is where her father is. Otherwise, I’m gonna have to get reeeeaaal personal when I interrogate her later, if you know what I’m sayin’.”

Rage flared inside me like an atom bomb.

I stood up, ready to kill him –

But I was restrained by the handcuff around my right wrist.

Moretti jumped back and put his hand on his gun. “Sit down… bitch.”

I had no choice.

I swallowed my bile and sat back down.

But he didn’t take his hand off his gun.

In fact, he cocked the hammer.

Not good.

“Last chance, dipshit,” Moretti said. “Where’s the father.”

I took a sip of water and put the bottle back down, but I kept it in my left hand.

I had a bad feeling shit was about to go down…

And I had one chance to make my move.

I had to make it count.

“I don’t know,” I said calmly.

“Then you’re of no use to me. And unfortunately, you got out of hand… and I was forced to shoot you.”

Moretti started to draw –

Which I had anticipated –

And I swung the water bottle at him as I squeezed it.

Water splashed in his eyes, blinding him.

“God DAMMIT!” he roared as he drew blind –

But by that point, I was already moving.

Since Lars had come to work for our family, one thing he’d been insistent on was training us in hand-to-hand combat.

It was something he’d learned in the Special Forces, and he was damn good at it.

I’d taken it to heart and learned a lot –

Which is how I did what I did next.

I vaulted over the desk, bracing my weight on my handcuffed right hand –

Dropped the water bottle from my left hand –

And grabbed his gun.

Lars had taught me that when you’re facing an armed opponent in close quarters, you either deflect the weapon with a forearm strike so the bullet doesn’t hit you –

Or you make sure your opponent can’t fire the gun.

I couldn’t afford to have him fire at all, or other cops would come running –

So I jammed the webbing between my forefinger and thumb into the space between the hammer and the gun.

Moretti pulled the trigger –

But instead of the firing pin striking the bullet, it cut into my skin.

Hurt like hell, but at least the gun didn’t go off.

Plus, I took the pain out on Moretti – with interest.

First I headbutted him – slammed him in the face with my forehead.

I heard a loud CRACK as his nose broke.

He was too stunned to make a noise – yet.

I only had a second before he started screaming.

So I kicked the back of his knee, causing him to buckle and drop to the floor –

At which point I wrapped my thighs around his neck and squeezed.

It was an MMA hold – mixed-martial arts.

Extremely useful for choking somebody out.

Just so happened it was good for keeping them from screaming, too.

Moretti struggled. He looked up at me with wild eyes and tried prying my legs off his neck so he could breathe –

But I was way too powerful for him.

He tried jerking the gun away from me –

But I’d clamped my hand over the pistol, and I pulled it back towards me.

He tried pulling the trigger again –

But the firing pin just clicked deeper into my bleeding hand.

Moretti’s face turned red – veins stood out on his forehead –

And then his struggling weakened…

And he went limp.

I held on a few seconds just to be sure, then released him.

Moretti slumped to the floor, unconscious.

If it had been anybody other than a cop, I would have killed him –

For even thinking about hurting Bianca, most of all.

But there was no upside in killing cops – not even dirty ones.

There were unwritten rules of the Cosa Nostra’s dealings with police.

We could pay them off, and they would do our bidding, up to a certain point…

But as soon as you killed one of them, all bets were off.

Cops had the same ruthless code of omerta as any Sicilian gangster.

Once you killed a cop, you brought the rest of them down on your head – and only blood would satisfy them.

So – as much as I wanted to curb-stomp the asshole – I refrained.

But I had other things in mind.

I pulled the gun from Moretti’s limp hand. The firing pin was still caught in the webbing between my fingers, so I transferred the pistol over to my right hand and extricated myself.

Then I uncocked the gun and set it on the desk.

Next I searched Moretti for his handcuff keys.

Ten seconds later I was free.

I didn’t know how much time I had, so I had to act fast.

I quickly undressed him. It was cumbersome, but I finally got him down to his tightie-whities.

Then I stripped down to my boxer briefs.

I couldn’t have Moretti waking up and making a scene, so I stuffed my wife-beater in his mouth and tied my black shirt around his face to keep it in place.

Hope you like the taste of my armpit, asshole.

Then I cuffed his hands behind his back and hogtied his legs to the cuffs with my jeans.

When I was finished, Moretti was lying half-naked on his belly, a gag in his mouth, and his arms and legs trussed up in the air behind him.

He wasn’t going anywhere or making any loud noises, even if he did wake up.

Then I quickly put on Moretti’s clothes.

He was about the same height as me but with a belly, so the pants were loose. I had to cinch his belt tight to make sure everything stayed up.

Then I put on the shirt. My chest and arm muscles strained at the material, but otherwise it was a passable fit. Same with the sports jacket he’d had on.

The slight hint of BO on his clothes made me grimace.

After the shit we’d bought from the thrift store, and now this, I swore I was NEVER wearing anybody’s but my own clothing again.

Finally I put on his holster and gun. I wiped the blood off the firing pin so the pistol would work if I had to use it. I also wiped the blood from my hand onto the jeans tying up Moretti.

Finally I put on his badge, which he’d worn on a lanyard around his neck.

Now for the moment of truth.

I wasn’t going to fool anybody who looked at me closely – but I had a better shot of getting out of the building dressed like this than the clothes I’d come in wearing.

I turned the doorknob and slowly walked out of the interrogation room, my heart thumping hard.

The department room was huge, with a couple dozen beige cubicles taking up the main floor. The walls had multiple offices and interrogation rooms.

No one was around, and almost all of the lights were out.

I was betting that Moretti had taken me to an interrogation room far away from anybody who might overhear or try to stop him.

As for everybody else, it was after 10 PM on a Friday night, and this apparently wasn’t the homicide division. It was likely that everybody else in the department had gone home several hours ago.

I was hoping that the other cops who had busted me had gone home, too, after I’d been booked…

But I couldn’t be sure, so I kept my eyes and ears open.

I had one huge problem: I had to get Bianca out, and I had no idea where she was.

But I had a plan for that.

52

I walked as nonchalantly as I could down the dim hallways of the Questura.

I figured that if I just acted like I was supposed to be there, nobody would question it.

After all, cops don’t expect a mafioso to go strolling around police headquarters.

I had the cop clothes and I had the badge – so I faked the attitude. I tried to project world-weariness, like I was tired as hell and just wanted to go home.

Outwardly I kept calm…

But my heart was thudding in my chest like a sledgehammer.

Talk about being in the lions’ den.

Luckily, almost nobody was around.

I saw a couple of people at their cubicles, but nobody looked up when I strolled past.

But I was watching them.

Every cop I saw, I mentally compared them with the pictures I’d memorized: the people on our family’s payroll in Florence.

I didn’t see anybody…

So I took the stairs to the next floor up.

Part of me was like, Get the fuck OUT!

But an even louder voice told that part of me to fuck off.

When our enemies found out the cops had Fabrizio Lettieri’s daughter, there was no telling what they’d do to her.

So I wasn’t leaving without her.

I exited the stairs on the next level and saw a sign for ‘Homicide.’

They were one of the few departments that would definitely be on call on a Saturday night…

And I knew we had a couple of their men on payroll.

All in all, we only had 10% of the Florence police force in our pocket… but there was at least one in every department. We had four in Homicide alone.

Time to roll the dice.

I did…

And I came up a winner.

There was a guy over by the copier – young, brown hair, hangdog look, dark circles under his eyes.

I cross-referenced him against my mental Rolodex and immediately pegged him as Matteo De Luca. One of ‘our guys.’

I glanced around the room. There were a couple of other detectives in the maze of cubicles, but they were all hunched over their desks. I suspected at least one of them was asleep.

I stepped back behind the corner and pulled out my gun, then took off my suit jacket and draped it over my arm to hide the pistol.

If things went south –

If De Luca wasn’t loyal to us, but was working for our enemies instead –

Then somebody was probably going to die tonight.

And it wasn’t going to be me.

I walked over to him. “Don’t react,” I said in a quiet voice.

He looked over at me like Who the fuck are you? “Don’t react to what?”

“Caesar has no knife to defend himself.”

That was the secret phrase we’d given De Luca. In case we ever had to contact him spur-of-the-moment, it was the code that would let him know we were the guys paying him off.

It had the desired effect.

His eyes bugged out and all the blood drained from his face.

“I’m Adriano Rosolini,” I said quietly. “You know who I am?”

De Luca swallowed hard, nodded, and looked around the squad room like he expected the boogeyman to jump out any second.

Then he turned back to me and whispered, “What the fuck are you doing here?! You can’t be here – ”

“But I am here. And I need your help.”

He looked like I’d just asked him to sacrifice his firstborn.

“Come on, man,” he whined, “this isn’t…”

“Is there someplace we can talk in private?”

“…the bathroom. We can go in there.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

We walked around the corner and he opened the door to the john. I followed him inside and checked every stall to make sure nobody was listening in.

Once the coast was clear, I asked, “You loyal to us, De Luca?”

He was sweating bullets, but he nodded yes.

“Good, because a cop named Moretti took me in one of the interrogation rooms just now and tried to kill me.”

De Luca frowned like I had a second head growing out of my shirt collar. “Wh– that’s impossible! If we brought you or any of your brothers in, it would’ve been all over the station! Everybody’d be talking about it!”

“That’s because I didn’t give ‘em my real name. Moretti knew who I was, but I’m guessing he was the only one. But I’m not here about that. I need you to find somebody in lockup and get her out.”

De Luca had recovered some of his color by now, but all the blood quickly drained out of his face again.

“Come on, man… you can’t ask me to do that… they’ll know it was me – I’ll get fired, I’ll probably get sent to prison – ”

“Relax. I’m aware that if you do this, it’ll destroy your career… so I’m prepared to make you a deal.”

De Luca got a resigned look, like he knew the kind of ‘deal’ I was about to offer him:

Drop your pants and bend over, bitch.

“What,” he said in a dead voice.

“How much do they pay you a year as a homicide detective?”

“47,000 euros,” he said glumly.

“As I recall, our family pays you 20,000 a year.”

“…yeah.”

I could tell he thought he was not only going to have to drop his pants, but there wouldn’t be any lube, either.

“You got a wife? Kids?”

“No.”

Good. That would make this whole thing easier.

Offering Moretti triple and even quadruple hadn’t made an impact, so I figured I better go big or go home.

“How’d you like to make two million euros in one night?” I asked.

De Luca lost his depressed look real quick.

“…what?” he whispered.

“You do what I say, and I’ll pay you two million euros.”

He stood there in shock.

I snapped my fingers in front of his face. “Yo – De Luca, you still with me?”

“Yeah, but… just for getting somebody out of lockup?!” he asked in bewilderment.

“Then you gotta get us out of here safely. That’s the trick.”

He rubbed his hair. “If I do this – ”

“The cops’ll find out, which is why you gotta disappear. Go wherever you want, but I’d suggest Thailand – two million will go a lot farther there. You could live like a king till you’re 105.”

“But… my whole life is here…” he said forlornly.

“Do you want to work another 30 years and retire with a crappy pension and a fake gold watch? Or do you want 2 million euros?”

De Luca swallowed hard. “Mr. Rosolini… no disrespect, sir, but…”

I smirked. “How do you know I’m good for it.”

De Luca winced, then nodded – like he was afraid I might gun him down right there on the spot for voicing his doubts.

“Give me your phone,” I ordered.

He handed it over, and I tapped in a number – Roberto’s personal cell.

Then I texted him ‘6624732’ and hit Send.

That was ‘Adriano’ spelled out backwards on an alphanumeric keypad. It would let him know that it was me calling, even though it would be coming from an unknown number.

Then I dialed and waited.

Roberto picked up on the second ring. “You okay?”

He didn’t address me by name. That was part of the protocol, in case I was being forced to call him.

“Outstanding.”

Again, part of the code. It let him know that things weren’t great, but I wasn’t in immediate danger or being forced to call him at gunpoint.

“Good to hear.”

“I need you to set up a – hold on.” I looked at De Luca. “You want a Swiss Bank account or a bitcoin wallet?”

De Luca stared at me like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “I – uh – ”

I gave him an angry stare like HURRY IT UP.

“Swiss… bank account?” he said hesitantly.

I spoke back into the phone. “A Swiss – ”

“I heard. How much?”

“Two million. Can you do that right away?”

“I can just give you access to a spare account we already have. How’s that?”

“Perfect.”

“Let me get the information for you.”

I looked at De Luca. “Good choice, by the way. Moretti wasn’t so smart.”

53

Using the information Roberto provided, we logged into the Swiss bank account on De Luca’s phone so he could verify there were actually two million euros sitting in there.

I gave him the password and login, along with the necessary information to pull money out of the account.

Then we proceeded to the next stage.

I didn’t want to risk another homicide cop interrupting us, so De Luca found a workstation in Robbery and booted up one of the computers. The place was deserted, so we had the room all to ourselves.

Once De Luca logged in, I said, “I’m looking for a woman named Bianca Lettieri.”

He typed in the information, then shook his head. “Nobody by that name in the system.”

SHIT –

For a second, I panicked.

Had they already gotten to her?

Had I been wrong about Moretti, and he’d already turned her over?

That’s when I realized Bianca might have taken me literally when I’d shouted instructions at her:

Don’t say anything. NOTHING.

“Can you find all the women who were brought in over the last two hours?”

“Yeah, sure,” De Luca said as he typed on the keyboard.

A single name came up: Maria Rossi.

The Italian equivalent of ‘Jane Doe.’

“Is that the name she gave?” I asked, amused.

“No, they put that in for anybody who won’t give their name.”

Good girl.

“Where is she?”

“Holding cell in the women’s detention center.”

“Is that far?”

“No, it’s just down the block. A five-minute walk.”

“Can you pull her out? You have that authority?”

“If it’s for a case, sure. I’ll put in a request and tell them I’m coming to pick her up for questioning.”

“Okay, great. Now I got a question for you.”

De Luca looked at me worriedly. “…what?”

“Do you know people who work at the courthouse?”

He frowned. “Huh?”

“Yes or no – do you know anybody who works at the courthouse?”

“Well, I mean, I’ve had to testify in a dozen trials, so… I guess I know a couple of judges’ names, but – ”

“What about the people who actually work in the office?”

“Uh… no…?”

“Do cops ever deal with those people, the ones behind the scenes?”

“Not really, no.”

“Good.”

De Luca looked totally confused.

I didn’t bother to explain. I just said, “I want you to check for another name.”

“Okay – what is it?”

“Fabrizio Lettieri.”

De Luca typed it in.

“…nope.”

I didn’t really expect to find it…

So I played my hunch from earlier.

The one I’d come up with before Moretti had barged in.

“Try Fabio Flambeur,” I said.

“Flam what?”

“Flambeur. It’s French.”

“How do you spell it?”

“Fuck if I know. Can you type in F-L-A-M and see what comes up? He would’ve been booked last night, probably around 9 PM.”

De Luca typed F-L-A-M into the box for the last name and hit ‘Enter’ –

And a record for ‘Fabio Flambeur’ showed up.

“YES!” I crowed.

De Luca looked at me like I was crazy, then turned back to the screen. “It says they brought him in for a drunk and disorderly last night around 8:45. No ID on him. Spat on a police officer, apparently.”

I grinned.

If my hunch was right, Bianca’s dad was just as smart as she was.

“Pull him out, too.”

“Alright,” De Luca said as he typed something in the system.

“Good – now let’s go. But get the girl out first, and don’t tell her about the other guy.”

“Anything you say, boss,” De Luca said as he shut down the computer.

54

I stood outside the detention center, trying to keep a low profile in the dark.

De Luca was only inside for five minutes before he walked out with Bianca in tow.

She looked worried – until she saw me.

Her mouth dropped open –

And then she ran and jumped into my arms.

I spun her around and kissed her.

A few seconds later, though, she broke off the kiss and started talking a mile a minute.

“Oh my GOD – what happened?! I was sure you were – wait, what are you wearing?!”

“In a minute,” I said, then looked at De Luca. “Okay, go do the other thing.”

He nodded, then walked back into the detention center.

“Adriano, what’s going on?!” she whispered.

I told her almost everything – how Moretti had tried to kill me, how I’d escaped, and how I’d found De Luca.

But I left out a few key details.

It took me about a few minutes to relate the story.

She was horrified about the part where I could have gotten shot –

And she held my wounded hand like it was a baby bird.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe – oh,” she whined, then kissed me tenderly.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

“What happened to the cop you knocked out?”

“Hopefully he’s still hogtied in the interrogation room and nobody’s found him yet.”

“What are we going to do now?” she asked.

“Pick up your dad,” I said.

She looked at me like I was an asshole. “And how are we supposed to do that?”

I grinned. “Turn around.”

De Luca was walking out of the detention center with another man.

He was probably 45 or 50, short and stocky.

He looked rumpled, unshaven, and incredibly frightened – like he was afraid he could be killed any second.

That is, until Bianca turned around.

She froze in place.

So did he, his eyes wide.

“…Daddy?” she cried out, her voice on the edge of tears.

“Paperotta,” he whispered.

Little duck.

She ran to him and he hugged her tight.

Relief and pure love washed over his face.

“I thought you were d-dead,” Bianca blubbered.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he said. “It was the only way – ”

“To keep yourself alive,” I said as I walked up. “Very smart, too.”

Bianca turned around and wiped tears from her eyes.

Mr. Lettieri looked at me in fright. “Who are you?”

“This is Adriano, Papa,” Bianca said. “He saved my life.”

Lettieri frowned. “Thank you – but how – ?”

“All in good time,” I said, then turned back to De Luca. “Everything okay?”

He looked around nervously. “Yeah, but it might be a good idea for you to get a move on.”

“You got a car?”

“…yeah?” he said, like he didn’t like the sound of that.

“I’m gonna need it.”

He grimaced. “Don’t you have your own car?”

“Yes, but somebody may be watching it. Don’t worry, I’ll pay you extra for it. Besides, you’re not gonna need it in Thailand. What is it?”

“A 2012 Fiat.”

“How’s an extra 20 grand sound?”

The cop looked astounded. “Uhhhhh… okay…?”

“Go get it. Quick.”

The cop nodded, then started jogging down the street.

Lettieri got a sick look on his face. “There aren’t many people who would pay a policeman 20 thousand euros for his car at the drop of a hat.”

I knew he’d figured out I was Cosa Nostra.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m on your side. Ask your daughter if you need confirmation.”

Bianca nodded. “He’s okay, Dad. He is, I promise.”

Lettieri didn’t look reassured.

I couldn’t blame him, given his years of experience with the Agrellas…

But I figured he’d come around.

“We need to get my wife,” Lettieri said, a worried look on his face.

“She’s safe,” I told him.

“Where?”

“Out in the countryside, where we’re going.”

Lettieri looked even more frightened. “…where’s that?”

“My family’s place. Don’t worry, it’s going to be fine. You’re among friends now.”

“And why, exactly, are you doing all this?” he asked. “No disrespect intended.”

“None taken. To be honest, you have information I need. That my family needs. But that’s only part of it.”

“And what’s the other part?”

I looked at Bianca and my heart swelled.

After only 24 hours of knowing her, I wasn’t ready to say the words that I really wanted to…

The words I felt…

But I think the feeling carried through anyway.

“I care for your daughter a great deal,” I said. “You’re important to her… and so you’re important to me.”

The smile Bianca gave me through her tears?

All the reward I would ever need.

55

Bianca

One minute I was in a holding cell that smelled like urine, sitting next to a prostitute and a female gang member with tattoos on her face –

And the next I was outside the jail, kissing Adriano. Who was dressed like a cop.

And then I saw my father –

And I broke down into tears.

And then Adriano basically told me he loved me without saying those exact words.

Because I care for your daughter a great deal.

You’re important to her…

And so you’re important to me.

Which made me cry again.

It was an intense ten minutes.

After Adriano’s magic trick of making my father appear, he drove the police detective’s battered Fiat and dropped him off near his apartment.

Adriano returned De Luca’s cell phone after borrowing it. He’d texted his brothers to let them know we were coming. “Remember – grab your passport, pack a few things, and catch the first flight out of Europe. It doesn’t have to be where you plan to settle down – just get out. You’ve got about a 12-hour head start on your former colleagues, so make it count.”

De Luca nodded. “Thanks.”

Then he walked away, ready to start a new life.

I envied him.

I would have liked to have started a new life with two million euros in my bank account.

Although, if I’d had to leave behind my parents, I couldn’t have done it.

And…

To be honest…

If I had to leave Adriano, I don’t think I could have done it, either.

We drove out of Florence into the Tuscan countryside. After the lights of the city, the darkness over the landscape was absolute.

Adriano was at the wheel while I sat with my father in the back.

Adriano peppered Dad with questions, one after another.

I didn’t understand half of them – but I didn’t care. I just held Papa’s hand the entire time, grateful he was alive.

The one super interesting thing was why my father had disappeared…

And how Adriano had figured it out.

“I had to lay low, but I knew the Agrellas could get to me practically anywhere in Florence,” my father explained. “I didn’t have time to get back to my apartment to get my wife – plus I figured she was probably being watched to see if I’d show up. So I had to go into hiding, at least for the weekend.”

“So you went into the one place you knew you could hang out for three days without anybody knowing where you were,” Adriano said.

Papa nodded. “The jail.”

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“I knew if I got arrested after 5 PM on a Friday,” Papa said, “the courts would be closed for the weekend. There wouldn’t be an arraignment until Monday morning. So I made sure to get myself arrested Friday night.”

Adriano chuckled. “By spitting on a cop, no less.”

“Dad!” I exclaimed, shocked. He’d always taught me to respect the police.

“It was the only way I could be sure I’d get arrested,” he protested. “I gargled with a bunch of cheap scotch and spilled the rest of the bottle all over my clothes. Then I went up to a cop and started picking a fight. Unfortunately, he told me to go home and sleep it off, so I had to take it up a notch. I didn’t want to hit him or he might bash my head in, so I spit on him and called him a pig.”

“DAD!” I cried out.

“What?! If that didn’t work, I was going to have to break a shop window or something!”

Adriano laughed. “It was the smart play, Bianca.”

My father nodded and gestured like Listen to HIM!

Now that Adriano was taking his side, Papa seemed to be warming up to him.

“Once they booked me in, I knew that if I didn’t give them my real name, there was no way the Agrellas could trace me in the system.”

“So you used your gambling nickname,” Adriano said. “But why that and not just some random name? Or no name at all?”

“I was worried that not giving them a name might draw more attention than I wanted. And if I used a random name, I was concerned I might forget the details. Or if they yelled it out, I wouldn’t respond, and they’d know something was up. Everybody calls me Flambeur in the gambling parlors, so I knew there wouldn’t be any problem remembering or responding to it.”

Adriano nodded. “Not bad.”

“But how did you figure it out?” I asked Adriano.

“The first clue was when they booked me. They took my phone, and then they wouldn’t let me call anybody. That was when I remembered your father only called you one time.

“There were really only a handful of possibilities. He’d either lost the phone, which I didn’t think was likely… he was dead, or the bad guys had him, which I hoped wasn’t the case… or he was physically prevented from calling you.

“Being in jail and getting his phone taken away was the simplest explanation. I figured he probably called you right before he got arrested.”

Papa nodded. “Exactly.”

“And then you chose not to make any phone calls from the jail because you didn’t want to attract any attention.”

“Right again.”

“It all made sense. Because of your job, you knew the legal system like the back of your hand. If anybody could turn that to their advantage, I figured it would be you.”

“But how’d you know my nickname?”

“I heard it when Bianca took me to all the gambling dens earlier today.”

Papa froze and looked at me. “Oh God…”

“It’s fine,” I reassured him.

Papa shook his head and looked ashamed. “I’m sorry, Paperotta… I wished you hadn’t had to do that…”

“Don’t be too sorry,” Adriano said. “That’s the only reason I knew how to find you – because I heard everybody call you Flambeur. At first I had the cop search the system for your real name, but that didn’t turn up anything – so I had him try your nickname instead.”

“I’m glad I used it, then,” my father said, relieved. “I guess that saved me.”

“Your knowledge of the legal system saved you,” Adriano replied.

“It just bought me some time.” Papa squeezed my hand. “You and my paperotta saved me. Thank you.”

I squeezed my father’s hand back. “You’re welcome… but it was Adriano who saved you, not me.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Adriano said.

“But how did you get mixed up in all this?” Papa asked me. “And how did the two of you meet?”

“…um…”

I really didn’t want to have to explain about dressing up like an escort…

And getting shot at…

And all the other crazy stuff that had happened over the last 24 hours.

Not only would it have given my father a heart attack, but he’d feel absolutely awful about putting me in danger.

“I’ll explain it all later,” Adriano said, saving me once again. “We’re almost there, though, and I need you to tell my brothers everything you’ve told me.”

Papa looked worried. “Are they going to be… okay with what I’ve done?”

“You didn’t do anything,” I reassured him.

But Papa kept watching Adriano nervously.

“Right?” I appealed to Adriano.

“Paperotta,” Papa said miserably, “I was working for the Agrellas on his family’s territory.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Remember when I told you that my family controlled the judges and the police in Florence?” Adriano said to me.

“…yeah…?”

“Well, the Agrellas were screwing us over.” Adriano looked at my father in the rearview mirror. “I’m assuming you knew that.”

“…yes,” my father whispered, his eyes cast down at his lap.

“You probably even knew who our bagmen were, didn’t you.”

Papa nodded reluctantly. “Gallo and Carbone.”

Adriano looked impressed. “You do know everything, don’t you?”

My father didn’t answer.

“Look,” Adriano said, “if we’d found out about this under ordinary circumstances, there’d be hell to pay. But these aren’t ordinary circumstances. Nothing over the last 24 hours has been ordinary. If you just tell my brothers everything you’ve told me, we’ll be square. No harm, no foul. Plus, like I said, I care about your daughter. Which means I’m going to protect you and your family.”

“You promise?” my father asked fearfully. “If your brothers decide the blame has to fall on me, I understand – but please, don’t hurt my daughter or my wife – please.”

Adriano looked directly into my father’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “NOTHING is going to happen to you, Signor Lettieri… or to Bianca… or to your wife. I swear it on my mother’s grave.”

My father looked relieved. “Thank you.”

“Thank your daughter. She never stopped looking for you, and she never gave up.”

Papa wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight. His voice broke as he whispered, “Thank you… thank you…”

I hugged him back. Tears streamed down my face as I looked at Adriano in the mirror and silently mouthed, Thank you.

I could see the smile lines around his eyes as he nodded. You’re welcome.

56

In the next few minutes, we entered what I can only describe as a storybook estate.

At least, it was to me. I’d rarely been out of the city my entire life, and what I saw reminded me of a fairy tale.

We turned off the main road and traveled down a small lane through rows and rows of cedar trees. A ten-foot-tall wall loomed above us, then a massive iron gate swung open and we drove on through.

After the wall came vineyards and orchards, which looked eerily beautiful in the moonlight.

And then we arrived at the mansion.

It was three stories tall and hundreds of feet wide. Even at this late hour, many of the windows glowed with a warm light.

Adriano drove the Fiat into a circular drive in front of the mansion. I immediately tensed when I saw four men waiting for us at the curb. They were straight out of a mafia movie – black suits and white dress shirts. I didn’t see any guns, but I was sure the men were carrying.

They all said “Signore” respectfully to Adriano. Two of them helped me and my father out of the backseat.

The bronze doors of the mansion opened up and a group of people strode out.

The couple in the middle drew my eye first. The man was slightly taller than Adriano and devilishly handsome. I could see the family resemblance immediately.

The woman next to him had a kind, beautiful face. She looked no older than me – maybe even younger. From the way the man had his arm around her, I assumed they were husband and wife.

I recognized Lars and Massimo from Florence. There were also two men who looked like twins, although their personal styles were drastically different. One had slicked-back hair and a three-piece suit; the other wore an expensive but casual linen shirt.

Finally, there was the youngest man of all – a gorgeous guy about my age who looked like he could have been a movie star. But he wore a smirk that told you he knew he was gorgeous.

“The prodigal capo returns!” the guy in the linen shirt said sardonically, his arms outstretched in a parody of welcome. Then he frowned. “What the hell are you wearing?!”

Adriano had on the clothes he’d stolen from the cop. They were not only unstylish, but tight and ill-fitting on Adriano’s muscular frame.

“Long story,” Adriano said. “Everyone, this is Bianca and her father Signor Lettieri. These are my brothers Niccolo, Roberto, Valentino, and Dario, and that’s my sister-in-law Alessandra. Bianca, you already know Massimo and Lars.”

Dario walked forward and extended his hand to my father. Despite the tattoos visible at the neck of his shirt, he had the gravitas of an ancient Roman senator.

“Welcome, Signor Lettieri. I hear you’ve had quite the adventure.”

“Y-yes…” my father said timidly as he shook hands.

“We have someone who wants to see you.”

There was movement inside the foyer of the house.

My mother peeked around all the people –

And cried out when she saw me and my father.

“Blessed Virgin!” she sobbed as she ran over to us.

“Ginevra!” my father cried out as he hugged her tight.

I wrapped my arms around both of them and got misty-eyed, too.

Adriano had kept his promise: my family was safe.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” my mother asked me and my father frantically.

“We’re fine, Mama,” I reassured her.

“And you – are you alright?” my father asked her. I saw him glance fearfully at the men all around us.

I knew what he was afraid of: that Adriano’s family was like the Agrellas, and that they might have harmed my mother.

Nothing could have been further from the truth.

“I’m wonderful!” my mother enthused as she reached out to grab Alessandra’s arm. “Signora Rosolini has been so kind – they all have! They have servants waiting on me hand and foot – it’s the best vacation I ever had in my life!”

Alessandra laughed and the men chuckled.

My father looked around, stunned, like he couldn’t believe his ears.

“Thank you,” I said to Alessandra.

She smiled. “It’s my pleasure. Your mother has been a delightful guest.”

Then Dario turned to me. “Speaking of guests, you must be exhausted. My wife will show you upstairs to a bedroom we’ve prepared for you. If you need anything – food, drink – just let her know.”

I looked at Adriano.

“I… actually… can I stay with you?” I asked hopefully.

Adriano glanced at Dario – who I assumed was not only his brother but his boss.

Dario was kind but firm. “We have some things to talk to your father about.”

“Oh, come on,” Alessandra said playfully as she nudged her husband. “You sat me down in the study the first night I came here.”

Dario looked at her with a hint of a smile. “That was a little different.”

“Yes – you thought I was part of some horrible plot to take down your family. Poor Bianca’s been through hell and back, and she’s done nothing but help Adriano out. Come on… let her stay with him a bit longer.”

Dario sighed as he turned to me. “I can deny my wife nothing. If it’s fine with Adriano, then it’s fine by me.”

Adriano slipped a protective arm around my waist and drew me close to him.

For the first time since we’d left Florence, I felt truly safe.

“Sounds good to me,” he said.

I looked up at him and smiled, and he smiled back.

Niccolo stepped forward to address my mother. “Signora Lettieri, why don’t you go on up to bed? Don’t worry – we’ll have your husband back to you in no time.”

“Fine by me,” she said. “Just don’t keep him too long.”

“We won’t.”

My mother kissed me and my father, then let a servant spirit her inside.

“Alright, let’s adjourn to the study,” Niccolo said as he led the way.

“Thank you,” I said quietly to Alessandra.

“Oh, your mother’s been a delight. She’s been no trouble at all.”

“Thank you for that, too, but… I meant me staying with Adriano.”

“You’re very welcome. I remember it was a bit overwhelming when I first came here.” Then she leaned forward and gave me an impish smile as she whispered, “Plus, I can see how you two look at each other.”

I was surprised –

Was it that obvious?

But Alessandra just squeezed my arm warmly, and we all walked inside.

57

The house was magnificent.

Crystal chandeliers in the giant foyer…

A beautiful staircase…

Artwork from Renaissance masters lining the walls…

But a tour had to wait, because they all wanted to hear what my father had to say.

We walked into a luxurious parlor on the first floor.

I sat between Adriano and my father on a plush couch. Though I held my father’s hand to give him emotional support, I got my own support from Adriano as I snuggled against him.

There was a charcuterie platter on a coffee table, and we snacked on gourmet cheeses, cured meat, and grapes from the estate’s vineyards. The men drank grappa, the traditional Italian brandy made from grapes. I asked for a glass of white wine.

However, I noticed that Alessandra stuck to sparkling water.

After Adriano said some things about the cop he’d tied up, all eyes turned to my father.

After a halting start, Papa repeated everything he told Adriano about hiding in plain sight within the Florence judicial system.

Niccolo watched him like a hawk – and asked most of the questions.

“What did you discover that put you in danger?” he asked.

“There were new payments the Agrellas authorized,” my father explained. “New arrivals from out of town – 15 policemen.”

“Where were these newcomers from?”

“Venice, Rome, Naples, Sicily, and Milan.”

All of the Rosolini brothers looked shocked.

Niccolo collapsed back in his chair. “Shit…”

“What?” Alessandra asked.

“Those are the cities of the most powerful families in the Cosa Nostra.”

“So?”

“So it suggests something… ominous.” Niccolo looked at my father. “Was that the conclusion you drew?”

“I knew something was odd,” my father agreed. “Unfortunately, I made the mistake of asking my handler about it.”

“Your handler?”

“A man named Sergio Pasquarelli,” my father said, then muttered under his breath, “May he rot in hell.”

“Don’t worry, he’s already there,” Adriano said drily.

“…what?” my father asked, shocked.

“Papa,” I said gently, “we walked in on Sergio in our apartment. He was holding a gun to Mama’s head.”

My father’s face went white as a sheet. “What?”

“Adriano saved her. And… well…”

“Sergio’s no longer with us,” Adriano said.

My father stared at Adriano for a second… then reached out and grabbed his hand.

“Thank you,” he said hoarsely. “For saving my daughter and my wife.”

“Of course,” Adriano said as he patted my father’s hand kindly.

My father finally let go, but he was obviously shaken.

“Have a drink,” Niccolo said as he pushed a crystal glass across the table.

Papa took a gulp of the liquor. “Sometimes I forget what beasts the Agrellas are…”

“Were,” Niccolo said.

My father looked confused. “What?”

Niccolo looked over at Adriano in exasperation. “Did you not tell him anything?”

“I was a little busy finding out information from him,” Adriano snapped.

Niccolo turned back to my father. “Last night, the entire Agrella family was murdered – Dominic, Carmine, and Bautiste. All their capos were killed, as well. The entire organization was basically leveled within hours.”

My father’s mouth dropped open. “Then… he does exist…”

“Who?”

“Mezzasalma,” my father whispered.

Mezzasalma was an unusual last name. Not only because it was somewhat rare, but because of what it literally meant:

Half corpse.

“Who is he?” Dario asked my father.

“When I asked Sergio why so many cops were being transferred in from other cities, he got this frightened expression. Ordinarily, Sergio was a cocky bastard – but he looked like he’d just seen a ghost.

“He told at me to mind my own business unless I wanted a bullet in the back of my head.

“I went into the next room to leave when I heard him speak to one of his thugs. I was curious, so I listened in.

“I heard him say, ‘Mezzasalma will be here in a week.’

“The other guy cursed.

“And then Sergio said, ‘Don Agrella should know better – never invite a vampire into your house.’

“I heard footsteps coming towards me, so I hurried out.

“From what Sergio said, I can only assume Mezzasalma is behind the Agrellas’ deaths.”

Adriano spoke up. “Before I shot him, this guy Sergio was saying all sorts of weird shit. Like how I couldn’t keep him safe from the devil, and that he’d kill Sergio if he talked.”

“That was Mezzasalma,” my father said.

Niccolo frowned. “I don’t understand. You overheard something about this man Mezzasalma, but that doesn’t explain why you went into hiding.”

My father looked shamefaced. “The way the Agrellas kept me under their thumb was… I have a gambling problem. I’d get stressed… go out for a drink… and the next thing I knew, I’d be betting on blackjack. I’d eventually lose… so I’d ask for a line of credit.”

“And the Agrellas would give it to you,” Niccolo said sympathetically.

“Yes. I never wanted to be part of their organization… but I always owed them money. And the only way I could pay it off was to do whatever they wanted.

“Anyway… I fell off the wagon a couple of weeks ago. I got drunk and lost another six grand. I was terrified… I knew I’d never get out from under them… and then Sergio told me that if I did one last job, they’d call it even.”

“Really,” Niccolo said, obviously shocked.

“Yes,” my father said with a wry smile. “Which was an immediate red flag.

“Sergio gave me a briefcase full of sealed envelopes and a list of names – the 15 cops that had transferred in. I was supposed to give an envelope to each cop and tell him, ‘Slow walk it on Friday night.’”

It wasn’t lost on any of us that Friday night was the massacre at the hotel.

“I was supposed to distribute the envelopes by Friday afternoon… in the order that they appeared on the list… and I was supposed to wait for them to check their envelope and not leave until they said I could go. If I did all that, the Agrellas would cancel my debt.

“This was after I’d overheard Sergio talking about Mezzasalma, by the way.

“Worried that I was walking into some sort of trap, I opened the envelope for the last cop on the list. Inside I found 10,000 euros and a slip of paper that said, ‘Take care of the messenger.’” My father grimaced. “I doubted very seriously that it meant, ‘Tip him.’”

I gasped – especially given my own history with the Agrellas hiring me to do a suicide job.

“What did you do?” Niccolo asked.

“I couldn’t deliver the envelopes to the cops – that would have been a death sentence. But I couldn’t keep the money, either. That would have meant a slower, more painful death.

“So I stashed the briefcase in a locker at a local gym and used a combination lock I owned.

“Friday morning, I texted Sergio that I hadn’t been able to deliver the packages but that they were all at the gym. I gave him the locker number and the combination. He started calling me back immediately, but I shut my phone off.” Papa looked at me mournfully. “I guess that’s when he started making your life miserable.”

I still hadn’t told my father about agreeing to dress as an escort. I didn’t feel like this was the best time – so I just smiled and squeezed his hand.

“Out of curiosity,” Adriano asked, “what was the name of the last cop on the list – the one who was supposed to ‘take care of’ you?”

“A fellow named Moretti.”

“You did the right thing, then. That was the asshole who tried to kill me tonight.”

My father stared at Adriano. “Seriously?”

“Yes. You dodged a bullet – literally.”

My father’s hand trembled as he took another gulp of liquor.

“I think that’s enough questions for Signor Lettieri tonight,” Alessandra announced. “It’s been a difficult couple of days.”

Niccolo frowned. “But – ”

“Dario?” Alessandra said with a smile.

Dario chuckled. “We can pick this back up tomorrow.”

Niccolo gave Alessandra a look of mock disapproval. “No fair.”

“What good is it to be married to a don if I can’t pull rank once in a while?” she teased him.

Niccolo rolled his eyes, then turned to my father. “Go on up to your wife and get a good night’s sleep. We’ll probably have more questions for you tomorrow.”

My father nodded. “Alright…”

“Excellent. Bianca, I can have a servant show you to your room – ”

“I’ll handle it,” Adriano interrupted.

My heart fluttered a tiny bit.

And other parts of my body, too.

Niccolo played it cool, though I’m sure he knew what was up.

“Of course. Her parents are in the blue room on the third floor, but we have Bianca set up in the green room on the second.”

My father, bless his heart, had had so much grappa and bad news that he was completely out of it.

He didn’t register any of the chatter about the guest rooms…

So I doubt he realized I wouldn’t be spending the night alone.

“Goodnight, Papa,” I said as I kissed him on his cheek.

“Goodnight, Paperotta,” he whispered, then followed a servant who led him to Mama’s room.

58

Adriano took me upstairs to his bedroom.

Pretty urgently, I might add.

Usually I would have been thinking about ripping his clothes off –

But instead, I stared at everything around us as we walked down the hallway.

The house was insane.

It looked like the kind of mansion you would see in a movie.

Not about mafiosos, though. More like old-money millionaires with exquisite taste.

Which made sense, seeing as the mansion was four or five hundred years old.

At least on the outside, anyway. The interior was decorated in a classic style.

In my imagination, it was the kind of place I saw the fashion designer Coco Chanel living in back in the 1920s – if she’d had a secret mansion in Tuscany she visited when she left Paris.

When we finally reached Adriano’s room, though, it was different from everything I’d seen so far.

There was beautiful wood paneling and a minimalism to the furnishings. The dressers and wardrobes were all sleek and modern.

No 300-year-old paintings on the walls, either. Only beautiful modern art pieces, full of vibrant reds and oranges.

The bed was huge – a king-size – with a muted grey comforter. It contrasted nicely with the colors in the artwork.

I looked around admiringly. “You have a good eye for design and color.”

He snorted. “I have a good eye for talented interior designers.”

I laughed. That made a lot more sense.

He started shucking off his clothing as fast as he could.

“Oh – somebody’s impatient,” I giggled.

“I’ve spent the last 12 hours wearing other people’s shit,” he said. “No more.”

I’d forgotten about that. First the thrift store outfit, then the cop’s clothes.

I have to say, I was a little disappointed why he was stripping down so quickly…

Although I still enjoyed the show.

His muscles rippled as he ripped off the shirt and kicked off the pants.

And then he peeled off his boxer briefs.

My mouth watered as I stared at his cock.

It was soft at the moment, but it was still huge. Long and thick and beautiful, it dangled heavily back and forth as he moved.

Even flaccid, he was bigger than my previous exes had been when they were hard.

I could feel warmth starting to glow between my legs…

And then his cock started to grow…

To get even longer while it dangled there…

Getting thicker and bigger with every heartbeat…

Until it started to rise up into the air, centimeter by centimeter.

I realized I was staring, so I looked up into his eyes.

He was smirking at me. He obviously liked that I was turned on looking at his cock.

That much was apparent from how big it was getting.

He reached over to me and immediately started lifting up my lace blouse. “Come on – we’re taking a shower first.”

I grinned and helped him get off my clothes in record time.

When I was naked, he pressed up against me and kissed me deeply.

His naked skin was so warm against mine…

And his cock, now rock-hard, was scorching.

Finally, he broke off the kiss and led me by the hand into the bathroom.

It was gorgeous and masculine – black marble and tile with gleaming fixtures.

The shower was an enormous cube with a shower head that covered nine square feet. When he turned it on, it was like a monsoon.

I stepped inside and lifted my face into the spray, luxuriating in the hot water rushing all over my body.

Then I heard a sound like he was soaping up his hands.

I smelled a faint hint of sandalwood –

And I felt his slippery hands touch my chest and lather me up.

I moaned as I felt him cup my breasts…

Rub my hard nipples…

And circle them lovingly.

I opened my eyes against the spray and looked up at him grinning down at me, his hair slicked back from the water.

“Gotta get ‘em clean,” he growled.

“We need to get something else clean, too,” I murmured.

I found the cake of soap and began to lather my own hands.

Then I reached down and cupped his balls in my right hand…

And slowly ran my left hand up his enormous shaft.

He grunted as I fondled his balls, feeling their weight in my palm.

I ran my fingers up and down his cock, feeling the pronounced veins under his skin…

The ridge of his swollen head…

The thickness of his shaft.

We stared into each other’s eyes as he took the soap from me and began to rub it all over my back…

Down to my ass…

Using one soapy finger to gently caress my asshole…

While the other hand switched to the front and gently soaped up my pussy.

I closed my eyes and moaned as his slippery fingers rubbed my bare skin…

Teased my lips…

And began circling my clit.

Suddenly the water on my face was interrupted as he leaned over and kissed me, his tongue hot and sensual on mine.

We did that for a while…

Just making out as I rubbed his straining cock…

And him playing with my ass and pussy at the same time.

Then he put the soap back on the shelf and washed me off.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he growled in my ear as he shut off the water.

59

We dried off as much as we could in 20 seconds with luxurious towels…

Then he pushed me back into the bedroom.

Adriano ripped off the comforter, exposing silken sheets –

And picked me up and threw me backwards onto the bed.

I shrieked with joy.

My exes had all been artsy types – not exactly strong guys. It was a bigger turn-on than I could have imagined to be lifted up and casually tossed onto a bed…

Especially when the guy doing it was so big and hard and wanted to get inside you so bad.

But…

He didn’t.

Not right away.

Instead, he pried apart my legs, bent down to my pussy, and began to kiss me.

Soft, loving little kisses…

His warm lips nuzzling my skin…

And when I was good and wet, he began to part my swollen lips.

His tongue slowly eased deep inside me…

Making me hungry for his cock…

And then he withdrew his tongue and began to circle my clit, caressing it with wetness and warmth.

At the same time, his powerful arms reached up under my thighs so his hands could touch my belly…

And his fingers stroked me gently, tracing soft patterns across my skin.

Every so often, his hands would reach up to my breasts, find my nipples, and gently caress them before returning to stroking the rest of my body.

I was moaning by this point, out of my mind with longing and pleasure.

Part of me hoped he would repeat this morning when he made me squirt…

But Adriano had other plans.

He knelt on the bed and pulled me into a sitting position, too.

Then he scooted around behind me…

Pushed me over on all fours…

And sloooowly entered me from behind.

I felt his swollen head part my lips…

Gentle but insistent…

And then the tip was inside me.

I moaned, my head on the silk sheets as I felt him ease himself inside me, inch by inch.

He was so long…

So big…

And he filled me up so completely.

When he was all the way inside me and his thighs pressed against my ass, I thought he would begin fucking me doggy style.

Again, he had different ideas.

He gathered up my long, wet hair in his hand…

Then pulled me back, forcing me to sit up.

I moaned.

It felt so submissive…

Like he was in complete control of me…

And I loved it.

He maneuvered me back so that I was sitting on his lap…

My legs kneeling and my ass resting on his muscular thighs…

And his cock even deeper inside me.

Once I was upright, I saw something I hadn’t noticed before.

A full-length mirror stood a few feet from the bed, the glass suspended in a wooden frame that could be wheeled around the room.

I looked at myself naked…

My head tilted back and my eyes heavy-lidded with desire.

Adriano peered over my shoulder, a full head taller than me.

His eyes hungrily devoured my body…

His face a portrait of obsession and lust.

My back was pressed against his chest and abs.

His left hand still held onto my hair…

But his right hand reached around my body to cup my right breast.

He held it in his hand… lolled the weight of it around in his palm…

And he pinched my erect nipple between his forefinger and thumb, exciting me even more.

A fire sparked in his eyes. He let go of my breast…

His hand traced gently down my belly…

And his fingers found my clit.

He began to rub it softly as he whispered in my ear.

“You’re mine,” he growled. “All mine. You’re my woman… I’ll do anything for you… and I’ll do everything TO you…”

As his velvety voice caressed my ear and his finger stroked my clit, he began to rock his hips back and forth…

Just an inch or two…

But it let me feel his cock deep inside me, his head stroking places no other man had ever touched.

My eyes were rolling back in my head…

As he wetly rubbed my clit…

And he rocked back and forth inside me…

And his deep voice rumbled in my ear.

“All I want… is for you to come… over and over… harder and harder… till you can’t take it anymore… I want you moaning my name… because you’re mine… now and forever… you’ll always be my woman… and I’m going to fuck you… day and night… my thick cock inside your sweet little pussy…”

It was hypnotic.

His voice…

The way he stroked my clit…

The way he moved inside me, so deep, so thick, so good…

And I began to come.

It was a gentle orgasm…

A slowly building series of fluttering pleasure…

That grew and grew with every stroke of his fingertip, every movement of his cock…

And it moved throughout my body.

My head was tilted back as he pulled my hair…

My mouth open in a moan.

I grabbed my own breasts and began squeezing them, sending streaks of pleasure from my nipples down to my clit, connecting my entire body in one flowing, gorgeous orgasm.

“Fuck… yes… rub your tits just like that,” he growled. “I love your tits… I love your pussy… I love your body… you’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever seen in my life…”

I moaned louder as he tugged gently on my hair, my fingers massaging my breasts, his fingertip stoking the bonfire of pleasure between my thighs, his cock touching me in a spot so deep and secret and pleasurable that it sent ripples of bliss through my entire body…

And the ecstasy just kept growing and growing.

Adriano stopped talking and bit my neck. It was gentle at first, and he alternated with kisses and soft nibbles, but his teeth began gradually pressing harder into my flesh.

It turned me on.

I felt like he might devour me…

And I wanted him to.

Devour me, body and soul.

“Fuck me,” I whispered.

“You want me to fuck you?” he growled low in my ear. “Really fuck you?”

“Yes…” I moaned. “Fuck me hard…”

He caressed my ear with his lips one last time…

And then he removed his hand from my clit…

And pushed me down roughly on all fours.

He kept my wet hair clasped in his left hand…

And he tugged on it so my head stayed lifted enough to stare into the mirror.

His eyes met mine in the reflection.

They burned with desire…

I couldn’t look away…

And then he began to move inside me.

A little at first, to let me get used to his huge cock…

And then harder.

Faster.

Deeper.

His cock began to thrust fast and furious.

His body slapped my ass with wet fwop fwop fwop sounds, his skin drenched with my juices.

The vibrations of each impact rolled through me, heightening every sensation…

And the jolts of pleasure from his cock were more intense than anything I’d ever felt before.

I started groaning loudly –

But I couldn’t look away from his eyes in the mirror.

They held me captive –

Like I was hypnotized.

And I kept coming…

Harder…

In waves of building pleasure…

My entire body filled with bliss from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

Sometimes my head would tilt down because I couldn’t bear the pleasure –

Or my eyes would wander down to my swinging breasts as he thrust deep inside me –

But he would pull on my hair and force me to look at him again, his eyes dark and fiery all at once.

Then he pulled hard, grabbed me roughly by the shoulder, and forced me back against him.

His hand closed around my throat.

I felt a burst of excitement and fear –

But it was obvious he’d done this before.

He pressed slowly but firmly on the sides of my neck.

He didn’t stop me from breathing – not at all –

But I began to grow a little lightheaded, and it was like I was floating on a cloud of pleasure.

He was still thrusting hard inside me, my ass going fwop fwop fwop against his thighs.

I started screaming as I came even harder.

His right hand was on my clit –

Rubbing it so fast it was like a vibrator –

And as my screams reached a peak, he suddenly bellowed like a bull.

I felt his cock spasm inside me –

A flood of hot, wet cum –

And I think I blacked out, just for a second, as the pleasure overwhelmed me.

Then I was back in my body, gasping for breath, as he slowed down…

His breathing ragged and intense in my ear…

And he lowered us both down to the sheets on our side, all while keeping his hard cock deep inside me.

He was spooning me now, his body pressed up against my back…

But I got to feel the last tiny tremors of his orgasm as his cock pulsed once more… then again… and a final time.

He kissed my ear softly, the sound nothing more than a murmur…

And I smiled and held his hand to my breasts…

And that was how I drifted off to sleep, utterly exhausted, with him still inside me.

60

When I finally opened my eyes, sunlight was peeking around the blackout curtains at the far end of the room.

I smiled drowsily and stretched… then reached out behind me to the other side of the bed.

But I didn’t find anyone there.

I turned around and saw I was alone.

I felt a sudden pang of loneliness – of feeling abandoned –

Until I saw the handwritten note he’d left on his pillow.

Had to go talk to my brothers.

See you soon.

A.

I smiled, yawned, and sat up in bed, naked as a jaybird.

I padded across the room to the window, curious about what kind of view there was.

When I pulled the curtains open, I gasped.

There were French doors that looked out on a balcony…

And the balcony looked out on a gorgeous estate.

There was a lawn the size of two football fields (soccer, not American football)…

A swimming pool that glittered blue in the sunlight…

Topiary gardens to both the left and right…

And more vineyards and orchards like the ones I’d seen last night during the drive in.

And in the distance, the rolling hills of Tuscany.

It was absolutely beautiful.

I stood there, transfixed, until my stomach rumbled with hunger.

I should get dressed and go find something to eat, I thought as I closed the curtains.

I went over to my clothes lying on the floor, but I wrinkled my nose when I picked them up. I’d been used to them yesterday, but now that I smelled them, they stank of sweat and grime. The thought of putting them on wasn’t exactly an inviting one.

Out of curiosity, I opened one of the giant wardrobes lining the wall.

Inside were two dozen dress shirts in shades of blue, black, grey, and white. I checked the labels and confirmed my suspicion: they were all from expensive designers. Brunello Cucinelli, Prada, Gucci, Balenciaga, Tom Ford, Dior, Alexander McQueen… the list went on and on.

I took out one of the softest shirts… sniffed it… and smiled.

It smelled like Adriano. That slightly musky and spicy cologne he wore.

I pulled on the shirt, luxuriating in the feel of it against my bare skin. I buttoned it up about halfway from the bottom. It was so long that the sleeves came down to my fingertips and the shirt tails covered the tops of my thighs.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

I giggled, embarrassed that Adriano might walk in on me wearing one of his shirts…

But then again, he might like it.

And that might lead to other things.

“Come in,” I said coquettishly…

And jumped in fright when Alessandra poked her head in.

“Hi, are you – oh,” she said in surprise as she saw me.

I screeched and closed the top of Adriano’s shirt with my hands. “Oh my god!”

“Sorry, I – ”

“No, it’s my fault – I thought you were Adriano!”

Alessandra laughed. “Knowing Adriano, he probably wouldn’t knock.”

That was true…

She held out one arm into the room. Across it were draped several casual dresses. “I thought you might need something to wear since you didn’t bring any luggage. You’re a bit taller than me, but I thought one of these might work until we can get you something better.”

I was overwhelmed by her kindness.

“Thank you… I’m so sorry I freaked out. Come in – that is, if you don’t mind how I’m dressed… or not dressed…”

She laughed again and entered the room all the way. “Don’t worry – you don’t have anything I haven’t seen in a mirror before.”

She laid out the dresses across the bed. They were all simple but luxurious – made in the simple style of a sundress but with beautiful fabric. There was an emerald green one, a sapphire blue, and a deep burgundy.

“These are beautiful…” I said admiringly as I felt the fabric.

“I’m glad you like them! They won’t be the best fit, but…”

“No, anything will be better than wearing my dirty clothes from yesterday.”

“We can have those washed for you,” she offered.

“Oh – I can’t ask you to do that – ”

She grinned. “No problem, I’ll have one of my ladies do it.”

Ah.

Servants.

In a house like this?

Of course.

“Okay,” I said, then picked the burgundy dress. “You’re sure it’s okay?”

“Of course! If you want to get dressed in the bathroom, I can wait right here and then take you downstairs.”

“Thank you.”

I entered the bathroom, shut the door, and took off Adriano’s shirt.

“I remember what it was like when I first came here,” Alessandra said from the other room. Her voice was muffled by the closed door. “It was under somewhat similar circumstances.”

“What happened?” I asked as I slipped the dress over my head. It was like a silky caress all over my body…

“I’ll tell you about it over breakfast. The men are all out on the back patio having a meeting. We can join them.”

I thought of what I would look like to Adriano.

I checked myself in the mirror –

No underwear, so no panty lines…

And my nipples couldn’t be seen under the fabric, so we were okay there, too.

I opened the door.

“Oh, you look lovely!” Alessandra exclaimed.

“My hair’s like a rat’s nest, though.”

“Nonsense – it looks wild and free. Men love that, you know,” she said mischievously. “Makes you look like you just had sex.”

I laughed. She was more right than she knew about the ‘just had sex’ part.

Or maybe she did know.

I had been kind of loud last night…

Suddenly my eyes opened wide and I turned scarlet.

My parents –

Alessandra must have read my mind. “Adriano’s bedroom is far enough away from everyone that it’s impossible to hear anything.”

“Oh, thank god,” I whispered.

Alessandra let out a peal of laughter at my relief.

“Um… do you know where my parents are?” I asked.

“They had a quick bite to eat and are walking the grounds. Your mother wanted to show your father around – she really loves the gardens.”

“I’ll bet.” Mama loved nature, yet where she and my father lived, there were precious few parks or green spaces. I smiled gratefully. “Thank you so much for taking care of her… it means the world to me.”

“She’s been an absolute joy. Are you ready to go downstairs?”

I slid my feet into my sandals, the only thing from yesterday I could stand to have on my body. “Let’s go.”

61

Adriano

I sat at the outdoor table with my brothers and Lars, sipped a cup of espresso, and wished I was back in bed with Bianca.

It was time for business, though.

Niccolo had called an emergency meeting. He struck an ominous tone from the very beginning. “I think we should temporarily retreat from Florence.”

“Fuck that,” I snarled. “We’ve spilled blood there – no fucking way we abandon it now.”

“I said ‘temporarily retreat,’ not ‘abandon,’” Niccolo said in irritation. “You may be capo of Florence, but I have to look at the bigger picture.”

“I seem to recall you telling me I should ‘temporarily retreat’ from Florence on Friday night. But if I had, we wouldn’t have Lettieri right now. And we sure as hell wouldn’t know about Mezzasalma or what’s going on with Rome and Venice and – ”

“Adriano,” Dario said in a tired voice.

It was a warning from my don.

I immediately stopped talking.

“Thank you,” Niccolo said tartly.

Although I wasn’t sure if he was thanking Dario for interceding, or thanking me for shutting up.

“As I was about to say, I got to thinking last night. At first blush, it seemed that wiping out the Agrellas might be a tactic to turn the cops against us.”

Valentino frowned. “Why couldn’t it just be about taking over Florence? After all, once this Mezzasalma guy got rid of the Agrellas, we’re the only thing standing in his way.”

“Taking over Florence is the obvious benefit, but it doesn’t make sense strategically.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because now Mezzasalma has a shitstorm on his hands. He’s brought worldwide attention to what he’s done. Not exactly optimal for someone trying to run things from the shadows.”

“I don’t know,” I said doubtfully. “He chopped off the head of the snake with one blow.”

Niccolo smiled sarcastically. “And that’s exactly what the Cosa Nostra does, right? Blow shit up and get on the front page of newspapers around the world.”

He had a point. The Cosa Nostra was extremely secretive. We didn’t like to call attention to ourselves.

But Mezzasalma had gone 180 degrees in the exact opposite direction.

“Sounds like you have a theory,” Massimo said.

Niccolo grinned. “You know me so well.”

This was my brother’s favorite part of being consigliere: trying to figure out the enemy’s thinking so we could beat them at their own game.

“Like I said, at first I thought the real purpose of the massacre was to turn the authorities against us. If Mezzasalma makes them think we did it, they’d run us out of Florence. Once civilians start talking about voting politicians out of office, we become more trouble than our bribes are worth.

“Except… I don’t think that’s what’s actually going on. Not after what Lettieri told us. I think Mezzasalma wants us to believe he’s trying to turn the cops against us… but it’s all a smokescreen.”

“So what’s his actual play, then?” Lars asked.

“Rome, Venice, Sicily, Naples, and Milan.” Niccolo paused dramatically. “I think he’s trying to turn the five most powerful families in the Cosa Nostra against us.”

Almost everybody at the table – Roberto, Massimo, Lars, and Valentino – looked at Niccolo in shock.

Dario was the only one who didn’t react. Niccolo had probably already told him before the meeting, seeing as he was the don.

I raised my eyebrows. “And why do you think Mezzasalma’s trying to turn them against us?”

“If the five families think we murdered our business partners of two decades, imagine what we’d do to them given the chance.”

“That’s crazy,” Valentino protested.

“Crazy to us,” Niccolo replied. “Not so crazy to anyone watching from the outside who has no idea what we’re up to.”

I shrugged. “Interesting theory, but that’s all it is until you’ve got something to back it up.”

Niccolo gave me a dangerous smile. “How about this? I tried to contact every consigliere from the five families this morning… and not a single one of them would take my calls.”

There was shocked silence from everyone around the table.

Only Dario looked unsurprised, though he did look somber.

If what Niccolo just said was true, we were in deep shit.

“No one?” I asked in astonishment.

“No one. The five families have effectively cut off all diplomatic relations with us. As of this moment, we are the North Korea of the Cosa Nostra – a hermit kingdom shunned by all. But unlike North Korea, we don’t have any nuclear weapons to dissuade a first strike against us.”

“Fuck,” Valentino said quietly.

“Yeah,” Niccolo agreed grimly.

I was about to ask what we were going to do –

When suddenly I was interrupted by the most beautiful sight I had ever seen.

62

Bianca had just walked out of the house and onto the patio.

She was smiling…

Her perfect skin was almost glowing…

And her hair looked like we’d just finished having sex.

She wore something that looked like a short sundress but was the color of red wine.

It hugged her breasts, showing off her curves and tiny waist…

And revealed her toned arms and amazing legs.

Alessandra was walking with her, but I barely even noticed my sister-in-law.

I only had eyes for Bianca.

As they approached, I stood up without thinking.

Bianca grinned when she saw me, then bashfully looked at the ground.

“We thought we’d join you for breakfast,” Alessandra said as she walked over to Dario. “But with the exception of Adriano, everyone looks like their dog just died.”

Dario took her hand and kissed it. “We were just finishing up, amore mio. Can you give us another ten minutes?”

“Of course,” Alessandra said and kissed him on the cheek. “Although we’re going to steal a couple of things from you.”

She took a pastry from the table along with a bunch of grapes.

“Take whatever you want, Bianca,” she said. “We’ll get something better once the men finish their little tea party.”

Bianca smiled at me as she reached over to take a pastry.

“Did you sleep well?” I asked, like an idiot.

“I did,” she purred, then leaned in close and whispered, “But I missed you.”

“I’ll see you soon,” I murmured.

She gave me another smile, then looked at my brothers at the table. “Thank you for taking care of my parents.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Dario said with a smile. “I think they’re out in the gardens.”

“That’s exactly where we’re headed,” Alessandra announced. “Goodbye, boys!”

Everyone said their goodbyes, and I watched Bianca follow Alessandra across the grass.

She looked at me over her shoulder one last time…

Smiled shyly…

And then turned around and kept walking.

I watched her go.

In particular, I watched her wiggle back and forth under the dress.

Madonn, what an ass…

“Somebody got hit by the thunderbolt,” Valentino said, and the entire table laughed.

The ‘thunderbolt’ was an old Sicilian saying for when someone was suddenly struck with overwhelming passion for a woman.

It was similar to ‘love at first sight.’

When you got struck by the thunderbolt, reason abandoned you. You lost all sense of everything else, and an overriding obsession took hold of your brain.

I scowled at Valentino. “Give me a break. I’ve barely known her for two days.”

Valentino grinned. “So? The thunderbolt don’t care.”

“Was he like this back in Florence?” Roberto asked Massimo.

“Oh yeah,” Massimo said with a chuckle. “He just didn’t want to admit it.”

“Fuck off,” I snapped at him.

“Doesn’t seem like he wants to admit it now, either,” Roberto said.

“Keep on talking, smart guy,” I warned him, “and they’ll have to take you to the hospital.”

The entire table laughed at my expense.

I gritted my teeth and glared at Niccolo. “The one thing you haven’t explained is why Mezzasalma wants Bianca’s father.”

Suddenly Niccolo was all business again. “Because her father accidentally figured out about the five families. He didn’t understand the significance of it, though.”

“Wait a second – the Agrellas moved those cops into Florence, right?”

“Probably.”

“So were the Agrellas in on it, too?”

“I think they partnered with Mezzasalma because he convinced them he had a plan. They just didn’t realize the plan involved them getting wiped out.”

My head was hurting with all these twists and turns, but I soldiered on.

“Okay, so Mezzasalma works with the Agrellas… then he double-crosses and murders them… then he frames us so the five families turn against us. Bianca’s dad figured it out by accident – but so what? Why should Mezzasalma care?”

Niccolo leaned forward in his chair excitedly. “Because Mezzasalma is manipulating the five families into moving against us. And they have no idea that they’re being played.”

“What if he’s not tricking them, but working with them to take us out?”

“Why wouldn’t they talk to me, then, and just lie to my face? No – their reaction is like someone who’s been betrayed. Who doesn’t trust us anymore.”

I frowned. “If he really is manipulating the five families, isn’t that something you should tell them right away?! So we can make sure they don’t declare war on us?!”

“You mean, once they answer my phone calls?”

“Leave ‘em a fuckin’ voicemail and tell ‘em what’s going on!”

Niccolo gave me an enigmatic smile. “Eventually. But for right now, we’ve got an advantage we can use to flush Mezzasalma out into the open.”

“What’s that?”

“He needs to make sure the five families don’t realize he’s playing them. But Bianca’s father figured it out. He told Sergio, and Sergio told Mezzasalma.”

“Wait – Sergio worked for the Agrellas.”

“Yes, but I’m pretty sure he was also a mole for Mezzasalma. Sergio was a low-level thug in the Agrella family. He was way too scared of some guy nobody had ever heard of before. I mean, none of us knows who he is. The only reason for Sergio to be so terrified was if he knew Mezzasalma – and what Mezzasalma would do to him if Sergio crossed him.”

“Okay, so what’s this big advantage we’ve got?”

“We have Bianca’s father – but Mezzasalma doesn’t know that.”

“Won’t he find out from the cops after I sprung Bianca’s dad last night?”

“Not yet – because the police don’t realize who they let go! They think he was some drunk name Fabio Flambeur.”

“Maybe that’ll hold for a little while. But once Mezzasalma hears I escaped – and then finds out a dirty cop sprang some random girl and an old guy at the same time – he’s gonna put two and two together.”

“Eventually, yes,” Niccolo agreed. “Which is why we need to act quickly while we’ve still got the advantage.”

“And do what?”

“I’m still working on that.”

“Great,” I said sarcastically.

“I can’t figure out everything in the blink of an eye,” Niccolo snapped. Then the corner of his mouth turned up slightly. “It’s not like I got hit by the thunderbolt.”

“Fuck you,” I snarled as everybody laughed.

Niccolo flapped his hand dismissively. “Go see your little girlfriend and leave the planning to me.”

“You can take your planning and shove it up your – ”

“Adriano,” Dario interrupted. “Let’s go find Alessandra and Bianca.”

I looked at him warily.

I was pretty sure this was a way to have a ‘private talk’ with me.

My brothers figured it out, too – and went Oooooooooh! like I was five years old and had just gotten in trouble.

I flipped them all the bird – which made them laugh even more.

“Come on,” Dario said. He put his arm around my shoulder and led me away from the table.

“Go take care of that thunderbolt!” Valentino called out, prompting the table to burst out laughing all over again.

63

Bianca

“…and then the old woman confessed that she’d killed their father right before she bit into a cyanide capsule and died.”

Alessandra was finishing her story as we strolled through one of the topiary gardens.

I hadn’t thought anything could take my mind off of Adriano –

But Alessandra’s story had knocked me for a loop.

I stared at her, eyes wide. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“So you’re a long-lost mafia princess who fell in love with a mafia don… you fought with him and left… then you got kidnapped and brought back to the house at gunpoint… but your husband and his brothers killed the bad guys and saved you… and then you shot an evil bitch before she could kill your husband?”

“Well, he wasn’t my husband at the time,” Alessandra said with an amused look. “But, yes… that’s it in a nutshell.”

“I can see why he married you. Damn, you’re a badass.”

Alessandra burst out laughing. “I am SO not a badass!”

“You saved Dario’s life!”

“Yes, but – ”

“And you nearly got killed in the process!”

“What about you?” Alessandra said, a friendly challenge in her voice. “The way I heard it, you faced down a bunch of hitmen with Uzis.”

I made a face. “I was in the other room on my cell phone when Adriano and the others ran in.”

“And then you climbed down a rope and escaped the assassins – ”

“I was basically just rescued by Adriano.”

Alessandra put a firm hand on my arm and stopped me in my tracks. “And you stayed with him in Florence when he sent Lars and Massimo home, even though you knew you were being hunted!”

“Yeah, but I was trying to save my father – ”

“And you faced down all that danger and were the only reason Adriano found your father.” Alessandra frowned and smiled at the same time, like What are you DOING?! “Why are you trying to downplay your bravery? You didn’t sign up for any of this – you’d never faced anything like it – and yet you were as brave as any man in this family.”

“No, I wasn’t – I was terrified.”

“You think that doesn’t make you brave?! That’s the definition of bravery – that you were terrified but you did it anyway!”

“But… you got kidnapped, and had a gun to your head, and shot somebody – ”

“And I was shitting a brick the entire time!”

I burst out laughing.

Alessandra was so dainty and beautiful that it was hilarious to hear such a crude expression come out of her mouth.

She grinned and hooked her arm through mine as we continued walking. “Never downplay what you’ve done for this family. Or for your own. Never.”

“…okay…” I said grudgingly but with a smile on my face.

“Dario and my brothers are extremely grateful for what you’ve done for them.”

“But I didn’t – ”

Alessandra flashed me a warning look.

“…okay, good,” I said with a sheepish grin.

She smiled approvingly, then got an impish look. “And Adriano is quite taken with you.”

I sighed. “We’ve only known each other two days.”

“I only knew Dario two weeks before we got engaged.”

I stared at her. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“He fell in love with you that fast?”

“He did. It took us going through hell before we got there, but he finally realized how he felt about me.”

“Yeah, well, Adriano and I kind of got off to a rocky start.”

“Getting shot at isn’t the way you want to spend your first date,” she agreed.

“Oh, it wasn’t just that. I thought he was an asshole. A very… hot… asshole.”

“What, and you think I was any different? I hated Dario at the beginning.”

“You did?!”

Alessandra made a face. “He kidnapped me and held me here against my will! Of course I hated him!”

“Why’d you marry him, then?!”

“I said at the beginning.” Alessandra sighed dreamily. “And even if I hated him… he was hot, too…”

I laughed. “Yeah. I know that feeling.”

“And he proved that no one would ever protect me the way he could.”

I nodded.

I knew that feeling, too.

I saw Alessandra looking at me out of the corner of my eye. When I glanced at her, she smiled.

“You know, ever since I met him – which was the exact same night I met Dario – I always thought of Adriano as ‘the Angry One.’ He always had a temper… he never smiled… and he was a total grump. But whenever he’s around you, it’s like he’s a whole different person.”

I smiled.

Just knowing that made my heart swell…

But a dark thought crossed my mind.

Alessandra saw it on my face. “What?”

“I just… I don’t want to say anything that might offend you, because you’ve been so kind to me…”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Go ahead and say it.”

I hesitated… then finally came out with it. “My father has been in trouble with the mafia my entire life, and I’ve grown up hating them for it. I don’t… know if I can be with a man who…”

My voice trailed off.

Alessandra nodded sagely. “When I first met Dario, I thought of him in my head as il Mostro. I’d heard the name my entire life. This feared mafia don who ruled with an iron fist over all of Tuscany. I was terrified of him… and I hated him.”

I stared at her. “What happened?”

“I got to know him. And I realized that il Mostro was what people called Dario’s father… not him. He’s only been don for a couple of months, not much longer than he’s known me… and he’s different from everything I’d thought about the mafia. All of his brothers are. Yes, they’re involved in illegal things. Yes, they work outside the law. They’re neck-deep in political corruption. They’ve killed men, although it was always men who came after them first. They’d done all sorts of things that could land them in jail for the rest of their lives.

“But they have a code. For instance, they won’t do anything with drugs, human trafficking, or prostitution. They cut it out of the business after their father died. They refuse to be involved in any of it… and they nearly paid for that choice with their lives when they said ‘no’ to the man who kidnapped me.

“Are they saints? No. Are they bad men? I don’t think so. I think they’re good men in a bad world, who do some bad things because that’s what they know. That’s all they’ve ever known. But it’s all about family for them… about keeping the family safe, and together, and whole.”

Alessandra sighed.

“All I know is that I love Dario… totally and completely… and I’m willing to compromise if that means I get to keep him. Maybe that says something awful about me. But he’s assured me that they don’t want to live this life forever. Roberto has a plan to make everything legitimate in two years, and Dario swore to me that our children would never be involved in the family business.”

“And the first one’s on the way, right?” I asked.

She looked at me quizzically. “Did Adriano tell you?”

“No – I saw you didn’t drink any alcohol last night, so I just assumed.”

“I’m only a couple of months along, so I’m not even showing yet.”

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you!” She hugged my arm. “You’re very observant to have figured that out.”

“Eh, it was just a lucky guess.”

Alessandra got a stern look on her face. “What did I tell you about downplaying – ”

“I’m very observant,” I said dutifully, with a bit of humor in my voice.

“GOOD,” she said, and nodded her approval.

I loved being around Alessandra. Even though she was a couple of years younger than me, she seemed wiser.

Maybe it was all the life experience she’d had – a lifetime for most people, all crammed into the last couple of months.

In a way, she felt almost like an older sister…

Which is something I’d never had and desperately wanted.

And like an older sister, she liked to pry.

“So… Adriano,” she said with a big grin.

“Yyyyyyyeeeees?”

She looked at me in that impish way she had. “Are you in love with him?”

My mouth dropped open.

I tried to say something, but nothing came out.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “That was incredibly personal – I shouldn’t have – ”

“Yes,” I whispered. “…yes, I guess I am.”

It hit me like a ton of bricks.

I hadn’t even thought about it…

Not really…

But it was undeniable once I was forced to put it into words.

I felt more for him more than any other man I’d ever dated.

Hell, more than all the others combined.

The feelings weren’t even comparable.

The other guys were sparks from my past… glowing embers, even when I’d been with them…

But Adriano filled me with a heat as bright and hot as the sun.

“That’s the first time you’ve said it, isn’t it?” Alessandra asked.

“…yes…”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“For what?”

“For trusting me enough to tell me.” She smiled and squeezed my arm. “I know he’s in love with you.”

That stopped me dead in my tracks.

Alessandra pulled up short, yanked to a halt by me stopping, and looked at me with comically wide eyes.

“How do you – why do you – ” I stammered.

She scoffed. “You’re not the only observant one around here. I see the way he looks at you.”

Part of me just thought that was him caught up in the moment… because the sex was so good…

And that he probably acted that way with all the women he dated.

I struggled to put my fears into words. “He’s not…”

“A player? No. Valentino, yes – he’s too pretty for his own good. But not Adriano. He might have been a long time ago, before I knew him… but since his father died six months ago, they’ve basically been consumed with trying to keep the business afloat.”

His father.

I remembered what he had told me in the dressing room of the thrift shop…

The secret he had revealed…

The one that cracked my heart wide open.

Looking back on it, that was the moment that my emotions had gone from just lust…

To love.

“So there’s no one else?” I asked hopefully.

Adriano already told me in the restaurant last night that he’d never had a long-term girlfriend.

But it would be nice to hear confirmation from someone else.

Alessandra shook her head. “As far as I know, there hasn’t been anyone in his life for at least six months. And never anything serious.”

She paused, then added, “…before you.”

Then she grinned again. “Trust me, you’ve turned him from – who’s that American puppet that lives in a trash can? The one on the children’s show?”

“Oscar the Grouch?”

“Yes! You turned Adriano from Oscar the Grouch to – I don’t know if he’s Prince Charming yet, but he’s definitely on the way.”

“A very angry Prince Charming,” I said wryly.

Alessandra laughed. “The angriest!”

64

Adriano

Dario and I strolled towards the gardens to find Bianca and Alessandra.

“You did well in Florence,” he said. “Extremely well. Not only in finding Lettieri, but as capo. I spoke to your men when they returned. They all praised you – the way you gave orders, your concern for their safety, your willingness to take any risk you ordered them to take. I was very impressed.”

“Thank you,” I replied, and felt the warmth of pride in my chest. I had done well. Hell, the family would be in far worse danger if I hadn’t discovered the existence of this Mezzasalma character.

And it felt good to know that the men under me respected me.

However, Dario’s words felt like a prelude before the other shoe dropped.

“…but?” I asked.

Dario smiled slightly. “I read once that as soon as you say ‘but,’ it negates everything that came before it. So, no buts. However, there is an ‘and.’”

“Okay – AND?” I asked sourly.

“You did extremely well in Florence… and in the future, I need you to respect the chain of command.”

I groaned. “This is about Niccolo, isn’t it?”

“Of course.”

“What, did he complain about me behind my back?” I asked angrily.

“No. He hasn’t said a word about it. And he didn’t have to – because I witnessed it firsthand.”

“He thinks he can boss me around, that I have to do everything he says – ”

“Because he can, and you do. He’s my consigliere – my right hand. You know that.”

“Yes, but – ”

“There is no ‘but.’ This isn’t the old days. We can’t just do what we want, safe in the knowledge that somebody else is running the show. We’re running it now. It’s resting on our shoulders, all of it. We can’t squabble like we did when we were kids, because every decision is potentially life and death. And nobody’s backing us up anymore… except each other.”

I didn’t say anything because there was nothing to say.

Dario was right.

Didn’t mean I liked it, though.

When I didn’t answer, Dario continued. “I made you capo because your strengths fit the role. Your bravery, your ability to fight, your willingness to put it all on the line, your clear head in the heat of battle. But Niccolo is consigliere because he has different strengths. He plays the long game. He comes up with the options the rest of us don’t see. He’s a strategist.”

“So, what – I’m just supposed to bow and scrape and do whatever he says?”

Dario sighed in annoyance. “It’s not that you can’t push back. I always want you to speak your mind. But I need you to do it with respect. If you were a capo working for another family – one you weren’t related to by blood – would you address their consigliere the way you talk to Niccolo?”

He had me there.

If I pulled the shit in another family that I had in ours, it would have meant a swift demotion.

Maybe even a bullet in the back of the head, just to make a point to everyone else.

“…no,” I conceded.

“The problem is, you’re treating Niccolo like he’s your little brother ordering you around, and not your don’s consigliere.”

Dario was right. He had always been the oldest, and I’d always respected him. For most of my life, I’d wanted to be him.

But I wasn’t. And I’d made peace with that.

But Niccolo…

I still saw him as an annoying little seven-year-old telling me “ACTUALLY…” whenever I said something.

“That’s what I had to tell you,” Dario finished.

“…okay,” I said sullenly.

I knew that everything he said was true…

But I still couldn’t help but feel like it was one of those times when my father chewed me out for some boneheaded mistake and said, Why can’t you be more like your older brother?

Dario looked over at me. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” I said.

“Oh, there’s definitely something,” he said with a dash of humor. “I know you.”

“It’s just – I’m not like you,” I said angrily. “I’m not perfect out of the gate.”

Dario burst out laughing –

Which was the most shocking thing he could have done.

My older brother almost never laughed.

I stared at him in surprise.

“You think I’m perfect?” he asked. “Since I became don, I’ve fucked up in every way possible. I took a woman prisoner to try to get information out of her father – and then I fell in love with her. And I gambled the safety of the entire family in doing so. I was blind to the threat of an outside rival, I let him invade our family compound, and I nearly got shot in the back by an old woman. Father would have been appalled. I can assure you, Fausto certainly was.”

Fausto was our uncle and our father’s consigliere for over 25 years. After Papa’s death, he had become the head of his own family.

“But… we killed the Turk,” I protested. “Everything’s fine – you married the love of your life – it all turned out okay.”

“Yes – by the grace of God. And because of your bravery, and your brothers’ bravery. And because Niccolo anticipated what the Turk was going to do, and came up with a plan for when he attacked.”

Dario was right.

Niccolo had come up with our response when the Turk broke into the mansion. He hadn’t gotten all of the details right, but he’d made sure we were ready when the Turk showed up.

And as soon as he’d found out that the Turk had Alessandra as a hostage, Niccolo had changed the plan on the fly so that Alessandra was rescued and none of us died.

I tended to forget things like that.

Dario clapped me on the shoulder. “We’re all learning on the job, brother. And we’re all going to fuck up. So never think you have to be perfect, or that I’m asking you to be – because it’s not possible. I just need you to respect the chain of command, and realize that you’re a very valuable cog in a much larger machine. We all are. I’m no different. If I die, one of you will have to step up and become don – ”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“But it’s the truth, and we have to face it. Any of us could die at any moment. We have to be ready for that possibility. If I die, you’re the obvious choice to be the next don. But Niccolo’s the only real candidate for consigliere we’ve got. Roberto’s good, but he’s all about business – he doesn’t have Niccolo’s understanding of human nature. Lars or Massimo? No. They’re fighters, not the man behind the chessboard. Valentino? Absolutely not. So if you have to become don… how are you going to deal with a consigliere you’ve been disrespecting all along?”

Jesus…

When he put it like that…

“Okay,” I agreed glumly.

“I also need you to speak to Massimo and Lars.”

My stomach plummeted.

I remembered what I’d said to Massimo in the car – how I’d hit him for calling me on my shit –

And I remembered with real shame what I’d said to Lars after we’d rescued Bianca’s mother.

But it pissed me off that they’d gone whining to Dario.

“What did they say?” I asked angrily.

“Nothing. I have no idea what transpired between you. All I know is that something happened and they’re not happy about it.”

I felt even greater shame at hearing that.

Of course they hadn’t said anything to Dario.

They were made of sterner stuff than that.

No… apparently, I was the only one who went complaining to my brother when I didn’t get my way.

Like when the consigliere gave me an order and I went over his head.

I breathed out heavily and nodded. “I’ll take care of it. I promise.”

“Good,” Dario said approvingly. “Now… about Bianca.”

I looked at him in alarm. “What?”

He smiled. “You’re really taken with her, aren’t you?”

I didn’t like this.

It made me even more uncomfortable than the talk about Niccolo, Lars, and Massimo.

“She’s just some girl,” I said grumpily.

“Uh-huh. And you risked your life to find her father… for ‘some girl.’”

I remembered how Bianca had basically asked me the same thing back in the restaurant. I tried the same answer I’d given her.

“Her father was the key to this whole thing, so I wanted to find him.”

“But you didn’t know that when you sent your men back here and struck out on your own… did you?”

It felt like Dario could see past all my bluster and defenses –

Which I didn’t like.

It made me feel naked. Exposed.

Before I could say anything, Dario asked, “Do you remember the night I sent Alessandra away?”

“Of course.”

How could I forget?

It had been a terrible moment.

She was a good person, a really good person…

And her heart was breaking right there in front of us.

All of us could see it…

And all of us could see Dario was in love with her.

He just hadn’t wanted to –

…admit it.

Shit.

If that was Dario’s game plan – to get me to see what was really going on with me and Bianca – he didn’t press it.

Instead he said, “Niccolo told me something after I sent her away. He said I thought it would make me weak if I loved her… but that I was wrong. That it would actually make me stronger, because it would give me something greater than myself to fight for. I told him I had you and him and the family to fight for – and he yelled at me, ‘There is no family if it ends with us! If we die alone, then what the hell were all the sacrifices for? What’s it all worth if there isn’t anyone to share it with – if there aren’t any children to pass it on down to?’”

I stared at my brother.

He’d never told me this.

In fact, I wasn’t sure he’d ever told me anything this private.

“I know you’ve only known her for a short while,” Dario said. “But when you know… you know. I knew about Alessandra almost from the moment I laid eyes on her… but I was afraid. I didn’t want to admit to myself it was fear – but it was. I thought loving her would make me weak. I was wrong. And Niccolo was right.”

He looked at me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t make the same mistake I almost did.”

I just stared at him… and then nodded in silence.

Even if I’d wanted to speak, I couldn’t find the words.

Suddenly I heard Alessandra’s voice. “Oh, it’s our two favorite men! Hello, men!”

I looked over to see her walking towards us –

And Bianca next to her.

Her face captivated me – her beauty –

But it was more than that.

It was everything I knew about her.

The way she’d been so brave in Florence, over and over…

The love she had for her father and mother…

Her willingness to put her own life on the line to save them…

The kindness and goodness inside her…

As soon as I looked into her eyes, all those memories came flooding back –

And my heart felt like it expanded to fill my entire chest.

Bianca smiled at me…

And in that moment, she was all that existed.

It was only Dario’s voice that brought me out of the spell.

“And it’s our two favorite women,” he said as he strolled over to Alessandra and kissed her lightly on the lips. “We’ve come to tell you it’s fine to come back and eat breakfast.”

“All the business is wrapped up?”

“For the time being.”

“Good – Bianca’s been a wonderful sport, but I can still hear her stomach growling,” Alessandra teased.

“I’m fine!” Bianca protested.

“Well, now we can finally eat,” Alessandra said as she took Dario’s hand and they started back towards the house.

Bianca fell in beside me. “Everything okay?”

I slipped my arm around her waist and drew her to me, about to kiss her.

She resisted the tiniest bit. She glanced over at my brother and sister-in-law as though to say, Wait – are you sure you want to do this?!

I did.

I put my hand to her face and kissed her.

When I pulled away, she was beaming.

“Everything is wonderful,” I told her, and I kept my arm around her waist as we walked back to the house.

65

There was still one more thing that had to be done.

By the time we returned to the patio, my brothers had gone off to do their own thing. I left Bianca with Alessandra and Dario and went into the house to track down the people I needed to see.

I found them in the parlor discussing something.

When I walked up, Massimo and Lars stopped talking and looked over at me.

“Hey,” I said.

“What’s up,” Lars said.

Massimo didn’t say anything.

“I owe you an apology,” I said to Lars. “You’re not a hired gun – you’re family. You’ve been as much of a brother to Dario as any of us when you had his back in prison. I was out of line, and you were right. There are going to be a lot of high-stakes situations, and I can’t go shooting off at the mouth every time I get pissed. I’m sorry.”

I held out my hand to him.

Lars looked at it coolly, then stared into my eyes.

I thought to myself, He’s really not going to accept my apology, is he?

But this time, I didn’t get mad.

I just accepted that I deserved it.

I put my hand down and nodded. “I get it. I don’t just get to say I’m sorry and have it be okay, I’ve got to – ”

Then Lars surprised me.

He reached over –

Grabbed me –

And hugged me.

Then slapped my back once and pulled back. And smiled.

“It’s all good,” he said quietly.

I smiled gratefully and nodded.

Things were okay between us again.

Then I looked over at Massimo.

He was staring at me darkly.

“…I shouldn’t have hit you,” I said.

He stood there for a long moment…

Then frowned.

“That’s it?! Lars gets a five fuckin’ minute-long speech and I get, ‘I shouldn’t’ve hit you’?!”

I shrugged. “Well, I shouldn’t have.”

Massimo paused…

Then shook his head. “Dick.”

“Asshole.”

We stared at each other grimly –

And then burst out grinning at the same time.

Suddenly he wrapped his arm around my neck and tried to give me a noogie.

“I think I’ll just take it out of your hide,” he laughed as I struggled to get away from him.

“Fuckin’ stronzo,” I half-snarled, half-laughed as I broke out of his grasp. “I oughta pop a cap in your ass – ”

“Just try it,” he laughed as he came at me again.

“Well, I did already bitch-slap you, so – ”

“OH – I think somebody’s askin’ for a wedgie – ”

“Don’t you fuckin’ – ”

Massimo tackled me and we went to floor, wrestling like we did when we were kids.

Lars sighed, but this time with a smile, as he watched us roll around.

“Idiots,” he said affectionally.

66

Bianca

I spent most of the day with my parents. Adriano had business to attend to with his brothers, so I had plenty of time to devote to them.

My mother gave me a tour of the house, pointing out all the beautiful things she’d found.

There was a library filled with books that were at least two centuries old…

A sunroom with roses growing on the other side of the windows…

Even a chapel with a ceiling covered with clouds and angels so beautiful that I could have sworn Michelangelo had painted them.

Then I played checkers with my father in one of the parlors. We had to use chess pieces to do it – little statues of ivory and obsidian on an ancient wooden board that looked like it had been crafted centuries ago.

It was mainly something to do as we talked.

We reminisced about when I was a little girl and how he would bring me home copies of fashion magazines like Vogue and Elle…

How I would cut out pictures and make collages, then put them all over my bedroom like other girls hung pictures of Justin Bieber or the Jonas Brothers.

Papa laughed about how there were still a thousand tiny holes in the walls where the push-pins went.

Everything about the house was peaceful and relaxing. It was like being on vacation at a resort.

Helpful servants were always nearby, ready to fulfill any request for food or drink…

And everywhere I looked, there was beauty. Paintings, sculpture, architecture, landscaping – more than the eye could take in at a glance. You had to really look at it to comprehend just how amazing the house was.

It felt like a mansion out of a fairy tale…

Like Beauty and the Beast, if Belle had lived in Tuscany rather than the French countryside.

For the first in my entire life, I felt truly happy.

And with Adriano at my side, I felt completely safe.

All that changed at dinner.

67

The meal was amazing.

For the aperitivo, olives and almonds from the estate’s orchards with a glass of sweet prosecco.

The antipasti was a charcuterie plate of prosciutto and salami with creamy cheeses from a nearby farm.

The first main course was a seafood pasta with a buttery cream sauce and truffles, paired with an amazing white wine.

Next were lamb chops with a delicate mint sauce, accompanied by roasted vegetables. The red wine we drank came from the Rosolinis’ own vineyards, and it burst with flavors – hints of lavender, raspberry, and chocolate.

There was an entire course of cheese and sun-ripened fruits: sliced apricots, plums, and pears.

And finally, a sinfully delicious tiramisu to cap it all off.

And the conversation!

Adriano and his brothers told us all sorts of funny stories about their hijinks growing up on the estate.

The pranks they played on each other and their long-suffering servants…

And the time they’d decided to hunt a wild boar when Adriano was 11 years old.

The story ended with all the boys up in a tree as the boar paced beneath them. They were up there until nightfall, when their parents realized they were missing and sent out a search party to find them.

“But they shot the boar and we had it for dinner a week later,” Adriano said.

“Even though you crapped your pants when it was chasing you,” Massimo snorted.

“HEY!” Adriano shouted. “Maybe I should tell them about the time you went swimming naked when you were five years old and that snapping turtle – ”

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!” Massimo talked over him. “They don’t want to hear about that.”

“Yes we do!” I laughed.

It was an evening of laughter, amazing food, and excellent company.

And then…

…everything shifted.

Niccolo cleared his throat. “Alessandra, if you would, please take Bianca and her mother to the parlor. There’s something we need to discuss with Signor Lettieri.”

I saw the shadow that passed over both my parents’ faces – and my father’s, in particular.

“Of course,” Alessandra said as she stood up.

I didn’t move, though.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Just some details about the situation in Florence,” Niccolo said casually.

“I was in Florence with Adriano. I’d like to hear about the situation.”

“It’s just business, that’s all. If you would?” Niccolo said with a smile and gestured towards Alessandra.

I looked over at Adriano, who was sitting next to me.

He just watched me neutrally, as though waiting to see what I would do next – but he didn’t urge me one way or the other.

I hadn’t told my parents the details of what had happened.

They didn’t know I’d been shot at…

And they didn’t know how close I’d come to dying.

So I kept my words vague…

But I knew Niccolo understood exactly what I meant.

“I was there at the hotel,” I said. “I gave Adriano the information that led to my father. After everything I’ve been through, I think I deserve to be in the room.”

Niccolo seemed a little taken aback.

Adriano suppressed a smile…

And across the table, I saw Alessandra give me an approving nod.

Niccolo looked at his don.

“…she can stay,” Dario said. “She’s earned her place.”

Pride swelled inside my chest –

And I felt Adriano’s hand squeeze mine under the table as though to say, Well done.

“I’ll take Signora Lettieri into the parlor,” Alessandra said breezily. “Please join us when you’re done, and we’ll all have an after-dinner drink… though don’t blame us if we start without you.”

My mother looked at my father, who nodded reassuringly, and followed Alessandra out of the room.

“Alright,” Niccolo said as soon as they were gone. “We need to move in the next 24 hours if we want to get Mezzasalma.”

“What’s the plan?” Dario asked.

Niccolo gestured to my father. “Mezzasalma wants Signor Lettieri… so I propose we use him as bait. To draw Mezzasalma out into the open.”

My father went pale.

I knew that he believed the other shoe had just dropped…

That the Rosolinis were no better than the Agrellas.

They would use him as a pawn in their game –

And after they’d saved his life and kept his wife safe, who was he to say ‘no’?

So I decided to say it for him.

But the second I spoke, Adriano did, too.

“No – ”

“No.”

We both looked at each other – and I smiled gratefully at him.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Niccolo said coldly. Not to me, but to his brother.

“Respectfully,” Adriano said in a calm voice, “I’d like to suggest an alternative plan.”

Niccolo glanced at Dario, then looked back at Adriano. “I’m listening.”

“Let me go back to Florence and draw Mezzasalma out into the open.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

“I’ll find out where his men are, and I’ll kill them one by one,” Adriano said. “I’ll leave a message on the bodies: ‘We need to talk.’”

“That’s very serial killer-ish of you,” Niccolo said drily.

“It’ll get his attention.”

“Yes, but not in the way you want. Mezzasalma’s not going to talk to you. He’ll simply send ALL his men go after you and either catch you and torture you, or shoot you down like a mad dog. No… we need bait.” Niccolo pointed to my father. “And there he is.”

“I want to keep Signor Lettieri safe,” Adriano said, his voice notching up a bit.

“As do we all, but he’s in danger no matter where he is. We can fight the battle in Florence, or we can fight it here on our front steps – but make no mistake, the battle will be fought, one way or another. Any notion that he’s safe here, while Mezzasalma is out there looking for him, is an illusion.”

“Respectfully,” Adriano said, sounding more and more stressed out, “we need to figure out another way.”

“I’ll do it,” I said.

Every eye at the table suddenly looked at me.

“No,” my father said frantically –

And at the same time, Adriano said, “NO.”

But I ignored them both and focused on Niccolo. “If they see my father, they’ll kill him. They’re not going to waste time – they’ll just shoot him. But they’ll think of me as a bargaining chip. They won’t try to kill me. They’ll want to keep me alive to force my father to give himself up.”

Niccolo raised his eyebrows and leaned his head to the side. “That’s a good point.”

“Plus, if it’s the man that I saw in the modeling agency – ”

“What man?” Niccolo asked.

In all the hubbub, I’d forgotten I hadn’t told them about the man with cruel eyes.

“She saw some guy visiting Bautiste Agrella several hours before the hotel,” Adriano explained.

After I answered all of Niccolo’s questions, he said, “So you may be the only one who’s ever laid eyes on Mezzasalma.”

“Yes.”

“That’s an even better reason to have you be the bait.”

“NO,” Adriano said forcefully. “We don’t even know if it was Mezzasalma she saw!”

Niccolo was about to respond when my father spoke up. “I’ll do it – just leave my daughter out of it.”

“No, Papa,” I said quietly. “You know I’m right.”

Tears were in his eyes as he shook his head. “Paperotta – ”

“I’m sorry, but you’ve gotten yourself in way too deep. And you don’t get to make my choices for me anymore. Not after all the bad ones you made my entire life.”

I saw the hurt on his face, and it killed me –

But I wasn’t going to put him in a situation where there was a good chance he might die.

At least I stood a chance, no matter how much Papa disliked it.

Unfortunately, the only way to shut him up was to remind him of how he’d failed me in the past.

No matter how much it hurt to see his reaction.

It worked, though.

He just sat there with an ashamed look on his face and didn’t say anything more.

But Adriano wasn’t finished.

“No,” he said. “I’m not going to put you in danger again – ”

“I was in danger every second in Florence, but you kept me safe. And you’re going to be right there with me again, protecting me.”

“But – ”

I squeezed his hand under the table.

“Ride or die… right?” I whispered.

Adriano looked totally taken aback –

And then he didn’t say anything else, either.

“It’s not going to be just the two of you,” Niccolo said. “Our entire organization will be backing you up. We’ll need to fortify the house here to guard against an attack, but that’ll be fairly small. We’ll send every available man along with you.”

“You shouldn’t just order them,” Adriano said. “This has to be something they volunteer for – ”

“Then let me be the first,” Massimo said. “I’m in.”

As soon as Massimo said that, I swear Adriano looked like he was getting choked up.

“Me, too,” Lars said with a smile.

“I’m in,” Valentino added.

“So am I,” Roberto said.

“NO,” Niccolo snapped, “we’re not sending the accountant in with the soldiers!”

“Hey – ” Roberto protested, his feelings hurt.

“I’ll go,” Dario said.

“NO YOU WON’T!” Niccolo shouted as he slapped the table. “You don’t put the king on the front line of the chessboard! You can have a gun and guard the Lettieris, but you’re NOT going to Florence!”

“Fine,” Dario sighed.

Niccolo glared at Dario like What the hell are you thinking?!

Then he turned back to Adriano.

“Here’s the thing: once you draw Mezzasalma out into the open, you can’t let him know that we have Bianca’s father – and you can’t let him realize we already know about Rome, Venice, and the rest. Otherwise the jig is up.”

“But you’ve already made a bunch of phone calls to their consiglieres,” Adriano protested. “If Mezzasalma is in contact with them, isn’t it going to be obvious we know?”

“No, because I covered my tracks. I called every consigliere in all of Italy. Obviously the Genoans are with us, because Alessandra is their granddaughter – but the others are up in the air. Some are neutral, some didn’t believe me, some said they believed me… but it was only Rome, Venice, Sicily, Naples, and Milan that wouldn’t talk to me at all. So don’t tip off Mezzasalma that WE know why they won’t talk to me.”

“Alright.”

“I have one condition to being part of the plan,” I said.

Niccolo raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”

“Whatever happens… you agree to keep my parents safe. For the rest of their lives, if need be.”

Niccolo gave me a tiny smile that I interpreted as respect. “Don Rosolini?”

“Done,” Dario said. “I swear it upon my family and my future children’s lives.”

“Then I’m all in,” I said.

“Don Rosolini,” my father said hoarsely, “please, I’m begging you – ”

“Your daughter is correct, Signor Lettieri,” Dario replied evenly. “Her plan is the best by far. And you should not reject the sacrifice she’s willing to make on your behalf.”

“Sir, no father should ever have to bury his own child,” Papa said, tears streaming down his cheeks.

And at that moment, my heart broke.

“I agree,” Dario said quietly. “And I never want to bury my brother… but he is willing to take the chance alongside her. So we should both respect their wishes.”

My father had nothing to say to that.

“Well,” Niccolo said, “I realize that this is not exactly the happiest note to end on, but I suggest we join Alessandra and Signora Lettieri in the parlor. Dario and I will speak with Adriano and Bianca in the morning after I give some more thought to the plan. For now, let’s try to forget tomorrow and just enjoy tonight.”

“I need to speak to my daughter first,” my father said.

“That is your right,” Niccolo replied.

“And then I need to speak to her, too,” Adriano said darkly.

“I don’t know if it’s your right, but have at it,” Niccolo said. “And now, let’s go join the ladies before they begin to think we’re up to no good.”

68

My father got me alone after dinner and tried to convince me not to go through with it.

I argued with him in hushed tones. I can’t say I convinced him, exactly, but at least I held my ground – plus I extracted a promise from him.

“You can’t tell Mama, alright? Swear to me.”

Papa nodded miserably. “She can’t know about this… she’d be an absolute wreck. I’M an absolute wreck, knowing what you’re about to do.”

“It’s going to be alright,” I told him. “Adriano will keep me safe.”

He looked at me doubtfully.

I remembered what Adriano had done back in the hotel room before he’d even known me –

And I remembered what he had done to those two punks in the alleyway.

I shuddered a little bit…

But if there was anyone who could protect me in the coming days, I knew it was Adriano.

“He will,” I insisted. “He’s kept me safe through much worse… and I’ve seen what he can do firsthand. Trust me.”

My father still didn’t look convinced.

“You have to let me do this, Papa. The only alternative is for you go to Florence… and they’ll kill you as soon as they lay eyes on you.”

Tears welled up in his eyes as he hugged me tight. “I wish to God I’d never gambled… never played cards, never picked up a pair of dice, never made a single bet.”

That made two of us.

But I didn’t tell him that.

Instead, I had another thought:

I was about to gamble with my life.

Like father, like daughter.

At least I had an ace up my sleeve…

…and I had to talk to him next.

69

Adriano wasn’t my father, and he didn’t go down without a fight.

“This is a very bad idea,” he said angrily.

“Actually, it’s a pretty good idea.”

“Putting you in danger is NOT a ‘good idea.’”

“Okay, then – it’s the least bad idea in a sea of crappy options. How about that?”

He gave a short, bitter laugh and shook his head. “How can you be so blasé about this?”

“I’m not blasé. I’m scared to death.” I put my hands on his chest and looked into his eyes. “But I trust you.”

Pain mingled with the anger in his eyes.

I could see the self-doubt there…

And the fear.

“It’s too big a risk,” he whispered.

“It’s not.”

“It is – ”

“You don’t want to see me die, right?”

He looked startled. “Of course not!”

“Well, I don’t want to see my father die. And there’s a damn good chance he will if he does this.”

“I can keep him safe,” Adriano said.

“If you can keep him safe, then you can keep me safe. And it should be even easier since they’re not going to kill me on sight.”

He started to say something – then stopped.

I’d out-logic-ed him, and he knew it.

I put my hands on his cheeks and looked into his eyes. “Whether it’s me or my father, you’re going to be there no matter what… and since you are, I want to be the one there with you. After all… you need somebody to keep you safe.”

He raised an eyebrow at me and said in a doubtful voice, “YOU’RE going to keep ME safe.”

“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “‘Cause I’m your good luck charm. I told you what you needed to know to avoid getting shot… I was there when you jumped out of a three-story window… and I helped you find my father. I’m your lucky rabbit’s foot.”

“You’re a pain in the ass, is what you are,” he said, though I could hear the humor in his voice.

“That, too,” I whispered, and I kissed him.

He kissed me back…

And then we quietly slipped upstairs to be alone.

70

It was the first time we really made love.

The rest had been sex – mind-blowing sex –

But this was making love.

He stood there looking into my eyes as he pulled off my dress.

I stared back at him as I unbuttoned his shirt.

The room was dim, with nothing but the moonlight coming through the balcony doors…

And besides him, there was little more than darkness.

In that moment, he was all I could see… my entire world.

When we kissed, it would be just for a moment…

And then we would go back to looking into each other’s eyes as we slowly caressed each other’s bodies.

His fingertips traced the curve of my breasts…

Slowly circled my nipples…

And not only did I feel the tingle of pleasure he gave me everywhere he touched…

I felt all the fear of losing him.

Like this was all I might ever have of him again –

And the sadness and the weight of it made everything that much more precious.

When you know this might be the last time you do something, you savor every second of it.

And I touched his broad chest…

His powerful shoulders…

His strong jaw…

His sensual lips…

Knowing that this might be the last time.

It made my heart heavy, like a lead weight was pressing down on it…

But it made me hang onto every second, every caress, like it was made of gold.

He moved me over onto the bed and laid down next to me.

He continued to kiss me softly…

And caress my body, my breasts, my arms, my neck…

And then he parted my legs with his hand.

He didn’t move on top of me, though.

His hands slowly traced along my thighs…

Up between them…

And softly caressed my pussy.

All the while, he kept kissing me…

Softly…

And then looked into my eyes.

While he was touching me, I did the same to him.

Caressing his chest… his neck…

His cock.

It was harder than I’d ever felt it…

Standing at the ready…

And I ran my fingers along its length, soft as silk, and felt it throb beneath my touch.

His fingertip ran along my lips…

Parting them…

Getting wet from my desire…

And then softly touching the hood of my clit…

Gently circling it…

Making me whimper softly as I got even wetter.

He was getting wet, too.

I felt the pre-cum beading at the tip of his swollen head…

And I used it to rub his crown…

To make his skin slick…

So that my hand slipped up and down the length of his shaft.

When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he moved between my legs…

And brushed the hair away from my forehead…

And kissed me…

As his cock pressed against my lips…

Then eased inside.

I gasped as I felt him slowly move inside me, inch by inch.

Our kisses grew more heated –

And I clasped his face with my hands as he sank deeper and deeper inside me.

Finally he was in all the way.

He put his strong arms under my body and held onto my shoulders…

And I looped my hands around his neck…

And he began to rock inside me, in and out, slow and steady.

But it was the kissing that affected me the most.

He hadn’t said I love you yet…

But every kiss seemed to whisper it.

Every gentle nibble at my lip…

Every caress of his tongue on mine…

Every time he pulled away to stare at my eyes in the darkness.

Emotions welled up in me – overwhelming me –

And I started to cry.

Not sobs –

No sounds –

Just tears slowly trailing down the sides of my face.

He looked alarmed at first…

But he seemed to know that they were good tears –

Tears of happiness.

That I was crying because this moment was so special –

That he was so special –

That this might be the last time I ever got to make love to him.

He kissed my tears away…

And when his lips touched mine again, I could taste the salt.

Still he moved inside me, never stopping, rocking back and forth…

The ridge of his swollen head stroking deep inside me…

Pressure building inside me…

And I began to come.

Not an overwhelming climax…

Just deep, slow, rhythmic contractions…

Pleasure gently building with his every movement.

My heart swelled, feeling like it might break and shatter into a thousand pieces as I stared into his eyes.

He quickened his movements…

Angling his cock so that he hit new spots…

And those waves of pleasure grew bigger, and fuller, and more powerful…

Until I was moaning with every stroke…

Clutching his back…

Raking my fingernails across his skin.

I don’t know how long we spent in that moment –

But finally he couldn’t hold back any longer.

The animal part of him took over.

He began thrusting faster – harder – deeper –

And all those slow, lovely waves of orgasm begin to climb high and fast –

And I whimpered every time he thrust into me, Oh – oh – OH – OH! –

And suddenly I was falling off the mountaintop, but upwards – up into the stars –

But I kept staring into his eyes, and he stared into mine –

And we came at the same time, him bellowing out my name and me screaming his.

I felt him explode inside me –

As I fluttered and shivered around him.

The aftershocks lasted a long, long time.

He kept moving inside me long after he’d come…

Staring into my eyes…

And I could feel the occasional swell of his cock, another spasm every four or five seconds…

That triggered little ripples of pleasure inside me, too.

When it was all over, he remained inside me… still hard…

And he kissed me…

And we stayed like that, not wanting the moment to end, not ever.

71

When I woke the next morning, Adriano wasn’t in bed beside me –

And I didn’t hear the sound of the shower in the bathroom.

I had a second of panic –

He left without me!

– but I told myself that, no, he was probably talking to his brothers.

I showered, put on my clothes that the servants had cleaned, went downstairs, and found out I was right: Adriano and Niccolo were talking in the parlor over a cup of coffee.

Niccolo smiled when he saw me in the doorway. “Ah, bella – come in. We were just discussing the details of your upcoming adventure.”

When I walked over, Adriano smiled at me –

And pulled me down by my hand and kissed me on the mouth.

I was a little surprised that he’d done it in front of his brother –

But I was pleased.

Niccolo just grinned.

Then I sat down next to Adriano, and Niccolo went over the plan in detail.

When he finished, he shrugged. “It’s a gamble, I’ll admit… but I think it will work. And Adriano will be able to improvise if something unexpected happens.”

“And something unexpected always happens,” Adriano muttered.

“Having second thoughts?” Niccolo asked me.

“Yes, but I’m ignoring them,” I replied. “All I need to know is that you’ll keep my parents safe, no matter what.”

“You have my word as well as Dario’s,” Niccolo assured me.

“You won’t make them leave if…?”

My voice trailed off. I couldn’t bring myself to say If something happens to me.

Niccolo knew exactly what I meant. “They’ll live here as honored guests for the rest of their lives.”

“…alright.”

That was all I needed to know.

Before I left, I had breakfast with my mother and father.

As we ate, I struggled not to think of the words ‘one last time.’

My mother knew something was wrong… but she didn’t know what, exactly.

When she asked, I said I had to go to Florence to take care of a few things with Adriano – and that when it was over, we’d be back.

I told her to have a good time while I was gone and that Alessandra would take care of her.

My father wouldn’t look at me. He seemed to be caught somewhere between anger and grief.

Finally, when it was time for me to go, he wrapped his arms around me and crushed me in a bear hug.

At first I hugged him back… and then I realized he wasn’t stopping.

“You have to let me go, Papa,” I whispered.

When he finally looked at me, his eyes were red with tears.

“Please… don’t…”

I smiled sadly. “I have to.”

And I kissed his cheek softly and walked out of the kitchen.

Adriano, Dario, Alessandra, and Niccolo were waiting for me at the front door.

“You can still back out if you want to,” Dario said.

I shook my head no. “Just keep my parents safe.”

“I must keep my wife safe, first and foremost – but after her, I will put your parents’ lives before my own. You have my word.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

Alessandra took me by the shoulders and looked me deep in the eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this? No one would think any less of you if you walked away.”

“I would,” I said softly.

She gave me a sad smile that barely held back her tears. Then she hugged me close.

“Be safe,” she whispered in my ear.

Niccolo shook my hand. “In bocca al lupo.”

It was an old Italian phrase for ‘good luck’ – literally, in the mouth of the wolf. Sort of along the lines of ‘break a leg.’

I answered back with the customary reply: “Crepi.”

I hope it dies.

We Italians have a streak of fatalistic pessimism, if you couldn’t tell.

Niccolo smiled grimly…

And then Adriano took my hand, and we walked out to the waiting car.

It was just the two of us. He was quiet as we drove back to the main road.

“I don’t like that you’re doing this,” he finally said.

“Well, I don’t like that you’re doing it, either. But it has to be done, right?”

“Not by you.”

“If I don’t do it, my father has to – and chances are he’ll die. Plus, you heard Niccolo last night. Either you fight them here, or you fight them out there. And I, for one, don’t want the fight anywhere near my parents.”

“So you’re just doing it for them?” Adriano asked, a trace of bitterness in his voice.

“You asshole,” I said angrily. “Of course not.”

As soon as I said it, I felt a flutter of fear.

I expected his volcanic temper to suddenly explode –

But he just looked depressed.

Then he said quietly, “I know.”

I grabbed his right hand and squeezed it.

He sighed heavily. “I wish I’d never said that thing about ‘ride or die.’”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t realize how crazy a bitch you actually are.”

I laughed out loud, and he cracked a smile.

“I think I’ll choose to take that as a compliment,” I said.

He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my fingers – hard. Like he was holding back an immense passion.

Then he looked at me – straight down into my very soul.

“Thank you,” he said simply.

I smiled. “You’re welcome.”

72

I was expecting to get a dress for that evening.

What I didn’t expect was where I got it from.

“Who’s your favorite designer?” he asked, apropos of nothing, as we were getting close to Florence. “Oscar de la Renta?”

“Huh?”

“You mentioned him the other night.”

“Oh, right – The Devil Wears Prada. He’s incredible, but I wouldn’t say he’s my favorite.”

“Who’s your favorite, then?”

“What – now, or all-time?”

“They’re different?”

“Yeah. I mean, Alexander McQueen is amazing – but I like him more for the idea of what he did than how his clothes look, if that makes any sense. His dresses really were art you could wear.

“I love Givenchy for how he dressed Audrey Hepburn. She’s one of THE great style icons of all time.

“I love Vivienne Westwood for her punk sensibility. I love Tom Ford’s work at Gucci – ”

“You seem to love everybody,” Adriano said drily, “so let’s narrow it down. If you had to choose one dress from one designer, who would it be?”

“Mmmm… Valentino, I think.”

“NOT my brother,” Adriano said with one raised eyebrow.

“No,” I laughed, “definitely not him. Valentino Garavani. He did amazing things with the color red, and that’s my favorite color.”

“Valentino it is, then,” he said as he plugged the name into the car’s dashboard navigation.

I stared at him. “Adriano – we’re not going to buy a Valentino dress.”

“Yes, we are.”

“That’s crazy – it’s too expensive!”

“Number one, no, it’s not. And number two, let me worry about that.”

“No – ”

He turned to look at me and spoke in that voice he used when he absolutely would not tolerate dissent:

“YES.”

I’d only heard him use it with his brothers before.

Hearing him use it on me…

About buying me a dress from my favorite designer…

It kind of turned me on.

“…okay, then,” I said with a smile.

“Okay, then,” he said, and suppressed a smile of his own.

73

The Valentino boutique was in the Piazza della Signoria, the square outside the Palace Vecchio – the town hall of Florence for the last 700 years, and the site of one of Florence’s most famous museums.

The square was also home to some of the most expensive clothing boutiques in all of Florence. Across from Valentino was Chanel… and on the other side of the plaza were stores for both Gucci and Dolce & Gabbana.

I looked in their windows like a little child at Christmastime –

But I couldn’t contain my excitement, so I hurried into Valentino.

For me, it was like entering a cathedral.

My whole life and all my dreams centered around fashion…

And this was one of the most important places in all of Italy.

The walls were grey marble flecked with white, the better to showcase the stunning colors. There was a section for purses, and shoes, and everyday streetwear –

But what made me catch my breath was the dresses.

On the walls were pictures of past designs by Valentino, worn by some of the most famous supermodels in the history of fashion. Elle MacPherson, Claudia Schiffer, Naomi Campbell, Gisele Bündchen, Iman, Linda Evangelista…

And the actresses and singers! Penelope Cruz, Scarlett Johansson, Anne Hathaway, Miley Cyrus, Sienna Miller, Jennifer Garner, Kim Cattrall back in her Sex and the City heyday…

I was suddenly eight years old again.

Back then, I’d believed the most I could hope for was to create my own designs.

But my family was so poor, and I felt like such an ugly duckling…

That I never thought I could actually BE one of those women in other designers’ beautiful dresses.

But tonight…

I would be.

A chic saleswoman presented the dresses one by one.

I doubt she would have normally given the time of day to a girl in a thrift-store outfit…

But she took one look at Adriano’s Hugo Boss suit and knew what was up.

There was one particular dress she showed me that was stunning –

But as soon as I saw the price tag, my eyes bugged out. “Oh no.”

“You like that one,” Adriano said. “I can see it on your face.”

“It’s fine – ”

Adriano spun me around to look at him. “What’s the problem?”

I whispered, “It’s 14,000 euros.”

“So?”

I stared at him. “…so?!”

“Go try it on.”

“No – ”

“GO… TRY… IT ON.”

That voice.

Warmth rippled through my body.

“…okay…” I murmured, and the saleswoman led me to the changing rooms.

Five minutes later, I walked out shyly.

When Adriano turned and saw me, he stared.

“Madonn,” he murmured.

He liked it.

I liked it, too.

It was gorgeous. The flowing lines, the cut of the bodice, the spaghetti straps, the folds of the fabric…

And it shimmered like red fire under the lights.

“That’s the one,” Adriano said to the saleswoman.

I wanted it –

I wanted it more than anything else I’d ever wanted in my entire life, besides him…

But the price…

“Adriano,” I protested –

“I’m not just buying it for you,” he said as he looked deep into my eyes. “I’m buying it for me, too… because I like looking at you wearing it.”

“…yeah?”

“You’re a goddess,” he whispered, and kissed me softly.

I smiled so big it hurt my face.

Adriano looked at the saleswoman. “We need the alterations for tonight. 7 PM.”

“Of course – I’ll have our seamstress start immediately.”

“It fits really well just the way it is,” I said shyly, not wanting everybody to make a big fuss over little ol’ me.

“I can see that,” he chuckled. “But might as well have it fit perfectly.”

“We’ll need to see how tall you are in heels,” the saleswoman said. “Do you have a pair you’re planning to wear?”

“No.”

“Then I have just the thing.”

I told her my shoe size and she walked out of the room. A minute later, she brought back a pair of heels in the exact same shade of red as the dress.

They were beautiful… stiletto heels with tiny metal studs on the straps…

A bit of punk sensibility to go with the classical lines of the dress.

And they fit perfectly.

“I love them,” I gushed.

“Good!” the saleswoman said. “Now we can plan accordingly.”

“But how much are they?” I asked worriedly.

Before she could answer, Adriano warned her, “Not a word.”

She closed her mouth and smiled.

Adriano looked at me. “You deserve them. That’s all you need to know.”

I kissed him deeply… and then disappeared into the back so the seamstress could work her magic.

74

Next we went to a men’s shop. It was a strange little place, down a back alleyway and far from the glitzy shops of the Piazza della Signoria. A black awning hung over the entrance, and a brass plaque next to the door displayed the shop’s name: Guillardo’s.

When we went inside, the room smelled amazing – at least to me.

In design school, I spent my days around bolts of cloth. Before it’s first washed, the finest quality material has distinct scents: the slight tang of wool… the earthy smell of linen… the clean crispness of cotton.

The air in this shop was layered with beautiful smells, like a fresco painted on a breeze.

A short, older man with thinning hair and a bushy black mustache bowed slightly as soon as we entered.

“Signore,” he said, using the older term ‘master’ or ‘lord’ instead of Signor, which was ‘mister.’ Then he bowed to me. “Signorina.”

“Guillardo,” Adriano said. It was apparent they knew each other.

“What will you be needing?”

“A tuxedo.”

I looked at Adriano.

“What?” he said. “I can’t let you be the only one who’s well-dressed.”

“Your previous one displeases you?” the short man asked with a frown.

“Not at all. But I need a lot more… cloth in this one.”

“I see. Of the best material.”

“The absolute best.”

The conversation was weird –

Why would you need more cloth in your tuxedo?

But I forgot about it as they continued talking.

“The only thing is, I need it for this evening,” Adriano said.

“That will be triple the cost.”

“No problem.”

“I have your measurements on file. Nothing has changed?” he asked, patting his own little belly as though to ask, Have you gained any weight?

Having seen Adriano’s washboard abs, I could attest there wasn’t an ounce of extra fat around his middle at all.

“No,” Adriano replied.

“Then I’ll start right away.”

“Good. See you at 6 PM.”

“Ciao, Signore.” The tailor bowed again to me. “Signorina.”

We walked out of the shop into the alleyway.

A few minutes later, I had forgotten all about their conversation.

75

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of activity.

First we went to a high-end hair salon. I stared at the walls, which were filled with tasteful black-and-white photos of famous models standing next to a man with silvery hair – presumably the owner of the salon.

Adriano slipped the counter girl 500 euros, and she immediately put me in a seat. Then she went into the back of the shop.

The man in the photographs came out of the back and made a big fuss over me, saying how beautiful my hair was – but how ugly it was cut.

“But don’t worry, when I am finished, it will be – ”

He did a chef’s kiss in the air.

I have to say, he certainly delivered.

While Adriano sat nearby, the owner washed my hair with lovely rose-scented shampoo, then spent 40 minutes with his scissors snipping and cutting.

I noticed Adriano watched the door of the salon more than he watched me…

And his hand was always near his jacket…

Inches away from his gun.

But nothing unexpected happened.

At the end, the owner washed my hair again and used a blow dryer on low heat –

And when he turned me around to look at myself in the mirror, my mouth dropped open.

“You like?” the silver-haired man said with a huge smile.

I couldn’t say anything. I just nodded dumbly.

“Damn,” Adriano muttered behind me. “If you were a goddess before, now you’re Aphrodite.”

“Venus,” the owner said, using the Roman instead of the Greek name.

“Venus,” Adriano agreed.

Five minutes later, we were out on the street – and people’s heads were turning as I walked by.

I was always used to a little attention from men…

But not like this.

Adriano wrapped an arm around my waist and held me close. “I’m going to have to beat ‘em off with a stick.”

“I’m sure you’re more than capable,” I teased him.

“Yep. I’ll make an example out of the first one, and nobody else will try it again.”

I pulled back a little as a jolt of fear ran through me. I remembered all too well what he’d done in the alleyway near the betting parlor.

Adriano looked down at me and smirked. “I’m kidding.”

I leaned back in and put my head against his shoulder.

“…sort of,” he added.

76

We had a late lunch in the old part of Florence. We sat on a second-floor balcony next to a trellis covered with vines, and had oysters and glasses of chilled white wine.

“Don’t fill up too much,” Adriano cautioned me. “Dinner’s going to be fantastic.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

After lunch came a trip to a makeup boutique.

And not just any boutique…

But one that sold proprietary blends created specifically for the clientele.

“How can I help you today?” the woman at the counter said. She wore understated but fashionable clothes, and her face was pretty –

But her makeup was flawless.

A work of art.

“We have a very special dinner this evening,” Adriano said.

“Ah.” The woman peered at me like a painter evaluating a canvas. “You have beautiful bone structure.”

“Uh… thank you…”

“I’m thinking something light,” the woman said. “Your natural beauty shouldn’t be hidden, only accentuated.”

“Um… sure.”

The woman worked on me for about 30 minutes…

And when I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t believe what I saw.

The models in the pictures in Valentino’s?

Claudia Schiffer, Elle MacPherson, Gisele Bündchen?

The women I had idolized my entire life, who had worn the most beautiful dresses in the world?

I could have stood next to them and not been entirely out of place.

I looked like one of the women I had dreamt about being when I was eight years old.

Adriano stared at me in wonder.

“You really are Venus,” he murmured.

I smiled, and my eyes welled up the tiniest bit with tears –

“STOP!” the woman commanded. She immediately gave me a tissue. “Don’t you dare ruin my masterpiece.”

I laughed and dabbed at my eyes.

“No crying. EVER,” the woman said sternly. “The mascara won’t run, but I don’t want you messing up the rest of it.”

“I won’t,” I said, definitely intimidated. “I promise.”

“Good. I think this color of lipstick is best…”

Five minutes later, she was ringing up a tube of the lipstick and a small compact with some of the makeup she’d used.

I happened to see the receipt, which included a section for SERVICES.

730 euros.

I stared at Adriano in shock.

“What?” he said.

“The price,” I whispered.

“Botticelli didn’t skimp on supplies when he painted ‘The Birth of Venus.’”

“Amen,” the woman said as she placed the makeup in a tiny bag.

77

We returned to the tailor shop at 5 PM.

Guillardo saw us, looked away – then did a double-take as he looked at me again.

“Bellissima,” he said after a couple of seconds.

Very beautiful.

He wasn’t leering or over the top – just very matter-of-fact.

“Thank you,” I said shyly.

He nodded, then looked at Adriano and gestured towards the back. “I have it for you in the dressing room, Signore.”

“Okay,” Adriano said as he reached for my hand.

The little man raised one eyebrow.

I noticed the tailor’s reaction, even if Adriano didn’t. “Um… I can wait out here.”

“No,” Adriano said, then turned to Guillardo. “Unless you have bullet-proof glass and want to lock up the front door.”

I suddenly realized why he hadn’t let me out of his sight the entire day…

And it made me nervous.

Didn’t seem to faze Guillardo, though. He just dipped his head like As you wish.

“Please, Signorina, accompany us to the back.”

When we were all in the dressing room, Adriano stripped down to his boxer briefs again.

Seeing as we had company, I looked away… although I still sneaked a peak now and then.

The tailor helped Adriano dress, and when they finished…

Adriano looked magnificent.

Like a Hollywood movie star out of the 1950s.

“Meraviglioso,” Guillardo said in his understated tone of voice.

Marvelous.

I couldn’t disagree.

Adriano grinned. “You approve?”

“A thousand percent,” I said.

The tailor nodded slightly. “The signorina has good taste.”

78

After that, we drove back to the Valentino store.

Adriano created something of a stir when he walked in, dressed to the nines –

But I’d like to think I created an equal stir as I walked out of the dressing room in the red dress.

The saleswoman clasped her hands and exclaimed, “You two are stunning!”

Adriano stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time.

He took my hand and held it over my head, slowly twirling me around. “You’re absolutely breathtaking…”

“You clean up pretty well yourself.”

He grinned.

Then the saleswoman said, “Now we just need a purse.”

It was true – I did need something to carry my lipstick and makeup in.

She turned to a drawer set into the wall and pulled out a tiny clutch bag. It was covered in black sequins and glittered like obsidian.

“Wonderful,” I said.

It was small, sleek, and exactly the size I needed for just a couple of items…

And I could make Adriano carry it. Ha.

Adriano handed the woman an American Express Black Card. She smiled politely and disappeared from the room.

I took Adriano’s hands in mine. “Thank you. For everything.”

“You realize that all of this is nothing compared with what you’re doing for my family, right?” he asked quietly.

“I think it’s a little more than ‘nothing.’”

“No. You’re putting your life at risk. This… it’s only money. It is literally nothing compared with what you’re doing.”

“Well, it means a lot to me,” I whispered. “It’s like a dream come true.”

“Good,” he murmured. “That alone makes it worth it.”

And then we kissed.

79

We arrived at the restaurant just before 8 PM. Adriano was driving the new Mercedes we’d brought from his family’s estate.

Dusk was beginning to fall as the valet helped me out of the car. “Buonasera, Signorina. Welcome to Il Duomo.”

‘Il Duomo’ in Italian means the cathedral.

And ‘il Duomo’ was the name of the most famous building in all of Florence: the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore. In English, that would be Saint Mary’s of Florence.

It was a giant church known for its red-tiled dome and bell tower that soared above the city.

Il Duomo was to Florence what the Eiffel Tower was to Paris, or the Statue of Liberty to New York: the most famous landmark everyone thought of when someone mentioned the city.

The restaurant had cheekily taken the landmark’s name for itself and created an ironic little spin on it: a huge, glass, geodesic dome shaped exactly like the top of the cathedral. Beneath it, underground, was the restaurant itself.

Some people loved it. They compared it to the gigantic glass triangle that the architect I.M. Pei designed for the Louvre 40 years ago. You know, the one that figured so prominently in The DaVinci Code.

Other people hated the dome. They said it was a blight on the classical beauty of Florence, a big glass-and-steel scar on the city’s face.

By the way, it’s worth noting that half of Paris loathed I.M. Pei’s creation when it was first unveiled…

Just like half of Paris detested the Eiffel Tower back in the late 1800s. They called it the ‘iron asparagus.’

And both are now iconic – almost synonymous with the ‘City of Lights.’

I figured that, given time, the restaurant would gain the same sort of approval.

I never thought I would be visiting it, though.

It was a three-star Michelin restaurant, the highest rating in the culinary world.

It had a world-famous chef as the owner…

And the meals typically averaged around $1500 apiece. That’s without wine – which could add thousands (or tens of thousands) to the bill.

This was a fairytale realm, just like Adriano’s family home…

And I had to pinch myself as he led me down the steps from the street level into the dark, cavernous lobby of the restaurant.

When the maître d’ saw us coming, he bowed at the neck. “Welcome, Signor Rosolini. Your table is ready.”

Then he led us down a short hallway towards the main part of the restaurant.

“How did you get a table on such short notice?” I whispered to Adriano.

“I didn’t just get a table – I got THE table,” he said with a smile.

“How?! I’ve read this place is booked out months ahead of time!”

“Niccolo made them an offer they couldn’t refuse.”

And then he winked at me.

I looked at him uneasily.

Given that Adriano was using a line from The Godfather that had resulted in a horse’s head in a man’s bed…

I didn’t really want to know what Niccolo had said in order to secure the reservation.

However, all that was forgotten when we walked into the restaurant itself.

My first impression was space.

It was gigantic – hundreds of feet across…

And a couple of hundred feet high.

The glass dome loomed far overhead.

It felt like being inside a gigantic snow globe – just without the snow.

And the view….

The glass triangles inside the steel frame showed the colors of the sunset and the deepening purples of the sky. They would eventually all fade to black, and we would be eating beneath the stars.

Not only that, but ancient buildings surrounded the glass dome, adding a bit of medieval class.

The décor inside the restaurant was a study in dark wood and crimson highlights…

Along with the white linen tablecloths, sparkling crystal glasses, and glinting silverware.

Everywhere you looked, there was something beautiful to behold.

And that was just the sights.

The smell of the food was mouth-watering…

Fresh-baked bread… exquisitely seared cuts of meat… the scent of spices…

And the sounds!

There was a small band on the far side of the restaurant: strings, clarinets, muted trumpets. They softly played what sounded like American Big Band or maybe jazz. But it was soft and melodic – just enough to be heard but not enough to be intrusive.

The music was for a parquet dance floor in the center of the restaurant, where beautifully dressed women and rich men danced elegantly.

It felt like a scene out of a Hollywood movie from the 1940s – a nightclub in paradise.

Dozens of tables of various sizes surrounded the dance floor…

But the maître d’ led us to a raised dais at the far end of the room.

Every spot on the platform had a view of the entire restaurant and dance floor, not to mention everything outside the glass dome.

There were half a dozen tables…

All of them empty.

The maître d’ led us to the central table and pulled out my chair for me.

Adriano sat down in the other.

“As requested,” the maître d’ said as he picked up a bottle from the table, “Petrus Pommerel, Bordeau, 2005 to start.”

He poured us two glasses and then bowed. “Your waiter will be with you shortly.”

Adriano nodded, and the maître d’ walked away.

I looked around at the empty tables. “Um…”

“Couldn’t risk having civilians around us,” Adriano said as he sipped his wine.

I stared at him. “You didn’t just get a table at the last minute… you got ALL these tables… and nobody’s even going to use them?!”

“Can’t be too careful,” he said with a smile. “Try the wine.”

I took a sip…

And almost had an orgasm on the spot.

“Oh my god,” I whispered.

He grinned. “My family likes the finer things in life.”

I looked around in wonder. “I can see that…”

The band began to play an old, old song I’d heard before but couldn’t place. It was one of those songs you watched soldiers in WWII movies dance to slowly with their dates.

Adriano got up from his seat, walked over to me, and offered me his hand.

“Care to dance?”

I’d only gone to loud clubs with my friends – the kind where you just did bump ‘n grind to DJ remixes.

Nothing like this.

I looked at the elegant couples slow-dancing and said, “I don’t know how…”

“I do. I’ll show you.”

I looked into his warm eyes…

Then took his outstretched hand and followed him to the dance floor.

When we stepped onto the floor, he took my right hand in his left…

Put his other hand on my waist…

And began to move me around the floor effortlessly.

It was like he controlled my body…

Both of us gently swaying together…

And all I had to do was follow his lead.

I put my free hand on his shoulder and gazed deep into his eyes.

“You look stunningly beautiful,” he murmured.

“You look stunningly handsome, yourself.”

“I had to up my game.”

“Maybe, if you play your cards right… I’ll go home with you tonight.”

He grinned. “Is that so.”

“…maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, then I’ll have to play my cards perfectly.”

I smiled… but it was forced.

Adriano could tell.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “We’re surrounded by friends.”

“What do you mean?”

“See those three guys standing over by the kitchen?”

He swung me gently around so I was looking in the right direction.

“Oh,” I whispered.

I recognized them from the warehouse headquarters in Florence.

Now they were dressed as waiters with black vests and bowties over white shirts.

“There are two more by the restrooms and another five scattered throughout,” he said quietly. “I’m sure you recognize Massimo.”

Adriano moved me again –

And I noticed a gigantic man sitting at a table at the far end of the restaurant.

“Valentino is in the lobby. Lars is up on one of the roofs, watching us through a sniper scope,” Adriano whispered.

I let my eyes drift up to the geodesic dome and wondered where Lars was.

“It’s all going to be fine,” Adriano said.

I nodded nervously.

“Hey,” he said, and I looked up at him. “We can leave right now if you want.”

I shook my head no. “It’s okay. I’m just… it’s not a plan anymore. It’s really happening.”

Adriano nodded. “It gets intense when the moment arrives.”

“So much about this has been intense…”

“Getting shot at?” he asked playfully.

I looked at him seriously. “Meeting you.”

He stared into my eyes as I continued to speak.

“Obviously, I wish my father wasn’t mixed up in this. But… if it were just me… and my parents weren’t involved… I’d do it all over again. Just so I could meet you.”

“I would absolutely do it all over again,” he whispered. “Just so I could spend one minute with you.”

I smiled. “You mean that?”

“Bianca…”

The softness of the music…

The sway of our bodies…

The depths of his eyes…

It felt like I was hypnotized.

Like it was all a dream.

And then he said something that made it all real.

“…I love you,” he whispered.

I stared at him, my heart beating wildly in my chest.

“…really?” I whispered, my eyes welling up with tears.

He nodded and smiled. “You are everything I ever wanted in a woman. I didn’t know it until I met you. But you’re everything to me now. You’re everything I want… for the rest of my life.”

I struggled so hard not to cry.

“…say it again,” I whispered.

“Which part?”

“…you know which part.”

He smiled. “I love you.”

I sobbed. “I love you, too.”

He pressed me against him tight…

And we stayed still on the dance floor, the others slowly circling around us…

As he held me and we kissed.

80

Once we got back to the table, Adriano pulled my chair around so I was sitting by his side.

I grabbed a napkin and dabbed at my eyes.

“That lady at the store would kill me if she saw me ruining my makeup,” I joked.

“Go ahead and ruin it. This is one of those moments I wouldn’t trade for anything.”

“What were some of the others?” I asked, fishing for compliments.

“Every time I had you naked in bed,” he said with a devilish smile.

“Typical man,” I said, but I grinned.

“And every time I heard you come.”

“Oh my god,” I whispered, getting wet just from his words.

“Don’t get too turned on,” he teased me. “We can’t exactly slip off somewhere like I want to.”

“Then stop saying things that get me hot,” I whispered.

“I’ll try, but it’s so… hard…” he said, playfully putting my hand in his lap.

“Stop!” I hissed, but laughed at the same time.

We stopped the double entendres as a waiter walked up with a tray.

It was the first course: three amuse-bouches arranged artfully on plates.

The waiter helpfully explained what I was looking at, because I had no idea, other than the fact it was incredibly pretty.

There was a tiny cone made of a sautéed chanterelle mushroom, with a green gel inside that made it look like an ice cream cone…

Delicate little globes of citrus sorbet, lemon thyme, and olive oil…

And tiny strands of cooked leek on a pillow of foam inside a sea shell.

I tried them one by one, and they were amazing.

Different flavors exploded in my mouth with each one.

“That’s incredible,” I murmured.

“It was pretty good,” Adriano agreed. “But they better give us a hell of a lot more food than that for each course, or I’m going to have to order a pizza when we walk out of here.”

“So cultured,” I said in a deadpan voice.

“I’m a guy. Deal with it.”

There was plenty of fresh-baked bread, though, along with balsamic vinaigrette floating in a dish of olive oil. A few pieces staved off his hunger.

And then…

The atmosphere changed.

There was a palpable shift in the energy of the room…

As a tall, thin man strolled leisurely across the restaurant.

People at their tables looked nervously around…

And the waiters edged away in fear.

The man continued past the dance floor…

And then walked slowly up the steps of the dais towards our table.

He looked to be in his 60s, although it was hard to tell. A life spent out in the harsh sun had deepened the wrinkles on his tanned face. But he moved confidently, like he feared nothing and no one.

He was tall and thin as a scarecrow, but his clothes were expensive and well-tailored. He wore a black three-piece suit that made him look like an undertaker.

He was bald and clean-shaven with a narrow, angular jaw. He was disturbing to look at, mostly because of the crisscrossing scars on the right side of his face –

And his right eye, which was completely white. Like he had sustained some sort of injury that had clouded over his iris and pupil.

Without asking, he grabbed an empty chair from a neighboring table and dragged it over to ours. Then he sat down facing me and Adriano.

“Signor Rosolini,” the man said in a deep, rumbling voice.

The blood in my veins turned to ice.

It was like the devil had just sat down with us…

But Adriano kept his cool.

“Signore Mezzasalma, I presume.”

“Just so.” The old man had a Sicilian accent that made his deep voice all the more sinister. “Well? Here I am. You’ve been dropping breadcrumbs all over the city, just begging me to follow your trail. A visit to Guillardo’s here… a trip to Valentino’s there…”

The old man paused and looked over at me. “Lovely dress, by the way. You have impeccable taste.”

My skin crawled as his one good eye roved over my body.

Not because he looked at me lecherously…

But like I was a thing. An object.

He turned back to Adriano. “And you, Signor Rosolini, must have endless resources.”

“Why, because I bought her a nice dress?”

“No, because you brought so many men that you’re willing to have die.” Mezzasalma gestured casually across the room. “Three by the kitchen, two by the restrooms, five spaced at regular intervals. Not to mention your sniper on the roof to the east.”

My heart hammered in my chest.

He had accurately picked out every one of Adriano’s men in the restaurant…

And I was assuming he was right about Lars, too.

Mezzasalma smiled. “The Swede, isn’t it? The one your brother befriended in jail? Tell me – am I in his sights? If so, you might want to order him to stand down.”

“And why’s that?” Adriano asked.

“Because I have a team of my own in the olive groves outside your house. Last I heard, my snipers had your family in their sights.”

My breath hitched in my throat.

My parents!

Alessandra –

A slight shadow passed over Adriano’s face – but otherwise he kept his emotions in check. “The windows are bulletproof.”

The old man pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket and fished one out. As he sparked up his lighter, he said, “Then I’ll just have to burn down the house like I did the Agrellas’, won’t I? My men can pick them off as they try to escape.”

Mezzasalma took a long drag, then expelled the smoke. “By the way, the secret tunnel the Turk used when he took your sister-in-law hostage? I have men waiting for your family outside that, as well.”

I vaguely remembered Alessandra telling me something about a secret passageway –

But I could see that the news hit Adriano like a punch to the gut.

“How do you know about the Turk?” he asked.

“I know about a great many things.”

“Why tell me, then? Why give away your advantage?”

“To make you wonder: if that’s what I’m willing to reveal… what other cards might I have up my sleeve?”

I coughed as the smoke from his cigarette made its way over to me.

His arrogance – his supreme confidence in himself – irked me enough that I did something very stupid.

“You’re not allowed to smoke in here,” I said angrily.

Adriano looked at me with a warning in his eyes – but it was too late.

The old man regarded me with amusement. “My dear… I get whatever I want, wherever I go… or someone dies. Sometimes many people die.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as he stared at me and took another drag on his cigarette.

Adriano tried to call Mezzasalma’s attention back to himself. “Why did you come here? Just to level threats?”

It worked. The old man turned back to him.

“I assumed we were negotiating. You brought something I want…”

Mezzasalma gestured towards me, and a chill ran down my spine.

“…and now I find out what you want. So… what is it?”

“This isn’t a negotiation,” Adriano said.

“Everything’s a negotiation when the offer is good enough. And if it’s not a negotiation, then what was your plan, exactly? I assume you expected me not to show up, so, what – your men and my men engage in a firefight? You capture one, you torture him, he gives up my location?

“…boring. Predictable. A waste of time.

“That’s why I came here… so we could skip all the bullshit and strike a bargain.”

“Like you did with the Agrellas?”

“Exactly like the Agrellas – except they weren’t able to keep their end of the deal. So I had to exercise the… ‘early termination’ clause.” Mezzasalma smiled at his little joke, then pointed his cigarette in Adriano’s direction. “You know, I was very impressed with how you evaded my assassins the other night. You’re a formidable man. Perhaps you and I could make a deal.”

“What kind of a deal? You gonna take me up to the top of the Duomo – the real one, not this place – and say, ‘Bow down and worship me, and all this will be yours’?” Adriano shook his head and smirked. “Florence is already ours… and you aren’t the devil.”

I wasn’t quite so sure of that.

Mezzasalma chuckled. “And you are certainly not a carpenter from Nazareth. But since you like stories, let me tell you one I doubt you’ve heard.”

“I’m not interested in stories.”

“Oh, you’ll like this one. Trust me.”

Mezzasalma stabbed out his cigarette in the olive oil…

Pulled out another from his pack… and slowly lit it.

After a long drag, he began to talk.

“I’m from a small village in Sicily. Mezzasalma isn’t my family name – I took it later because I liked the way it sounds.

“‘Half corpse.’ Very dramatic.

“But did you know that salma not only means ‘corpse,’ but is an ancient unit of land measurement? Like the English with their acres. So a ‘Mezzasalma’ is half an acre of land. That’s all the poorest farmers in Sicily can afford… not even enough to feed their families. Which is how it was with mine. I never had a full belly when I went to bed as a child, and not much of a future to look forward to.

“Then one day when I was ten, I was playing alone in a deserted field when two men drove up in a gleaming black car. I hid in the bushes and watched as they pulled a man out of the trunk, hands bound behind his back. They forced him to his knees… put a gun to the back of his head… and…”

Mezzasalma made a gun out of his hand, jerked it up like he was shooting it –

And silently mouthed pow.

“…that was the end of our friend with his hands behind his back.

“Interestingly enough, I wasn’t horrified.

“Just… curious.”

As Mezzasalma spoke, I trembled at the sound of his voice.

Deep…

Rumbling…

And completely unaffected by the murder he was recounting.

“Then one of those men – the one who fired the gun – saw me in the bushes.

“He walked over. I was alone. He could have easily killed me – no one would have ever known.

“Instead, he offered me a hundred-euro bill. It was more money than I had seen in my entire life.

“The man said to me, ‘You didn’t see anything. Capiche?’

“I took the money. I didn’t even say ‘thank you.’

“But as the man was walking away, I asked him, ‘Did you get paid to kill him?’

“The man turned around and looked at me… and he nodded.

“And I said… ‘How do I do what you do when I grow up?’

“The man smiled. ‘Come visit me when you’re older and we’ll see.’ He told me the town he was from, not too far from where I lived… and then he left. Do you know who that man was?”

I was terrified by Mezzasalma’s voice and demeanor…

But my date seemed bored by the theatrics.

“No,” he said flatly. “Who.”

“It was your grandfather, Adriano. Vito Rosolini.”

81

THAT got Adriano’s attention.

Both the mention of his grandfather…

And the fact that Mezzasalma knew Adriano’s name.

The old man smiled. “That’s right – your grandfather. The one who came here 50-odd years ago and started your family’s little empire.

“I’m sure you know that Rosolini isn’t your real name. Or rather, it wasn’t your grandfather’s given name. He took it from the town he came from in Sicily. It’s very close to the spot where I first met him.

“When I was 15, I walked twelve miles to the town of Rosolini and asked around for your grandfather. No one would admit to knowing who he was. Omertà is strong in Sicily, after all. I could have been looking to kill him… to exact revenge for some slight to my family’s honor.

“But rather than return home when I couldn’t find him, I slept outside in a field so I could look for him again the next day.

“The next morning, Vito searched me out after the villagers told him about a strange boy asking for him by name. He recognized me immediately, gave me a job, and I never went home again.

“When I was 16, I became a driver for your grandfather’s crew. Back then, he worked as the enforcer for the family that controlled southern Sicily.

“When I was 17, I killed a man for the first time. Your grandfather gave me the gun and told me to do it… so I did. I did everything he told me to do… and as a result, I rose in the ranks and took over the rural areas. That became my territory… the little villages, the barren fields… the half-acres of land.

“And then your grandfather left… to start a new life in Tuscany.

“I wrote him letters. Sometimes he wrote back. Every few years, he would return to the old country. We would have a drink and reminisce about old times. He would tell me of his new life… and his two little sons, Leonardo and Fausto.

“Years later, I would hear about his grandsons: you… Niccolo… Roberto, Massimo, Valentino…

“I even sent a gift – a golden spoon – to your grandfather when Dario was born.

“But I never got an invitation to come to Tuscany. I was never offered a place in your grandfather’s organization. I asked, but he said he didn’t want to offend the Sicilian family he had worked for – the one I still worked for.

“But he always said, ‘One day… one day.’

“Then your grandfather died, gunned down in his prime. Not uncommon in our line of work, but a tragedy nonetheless. When I heard it, I took the news quite hard.

“I also learned your father took over as the new don. But Leonardo… he never gave me the time of day. I wrote to him, too, like I had your grandfather. I told him I had finally secured my employers’ permission to leave. I asked your father for a place in his organization, that I might serve him as I had served Vito years before… even though Leonardo was much younger and far less experienced than me.

“But he thought I was some country bumpkin – a simpleton beneath his contempt. He wrote back only once: two short lines telling me the past was the past, and to never contact him again.

“At least your grandfather cared enough to lie to me, Adriano.

“At least your grandfather had the courtesy not to spit in my face.”

Mezzasalma took a little pause. He poured some wine from our bottle, slugged it down, then continued.

“You quoted the story of Satan tempting the Christ.

“Do you like other stories?

“I do.

“I like English ones most of all. The knights of the round table… the sword in the stone… the lady of the lake…

“There was this one English story I heard a long time ago that I never forgot.

“Around the time of King Arthur, a country boy caught a baby dragon, which the English call a ‘worm’… and he threw it down a well and forgot about it.

“The worm grew and grew in darkness… and then finally, years later, it came up out of the well and began killing everyone who encountered it.

“The best time to kill a dragon is when it is still a worm… a baby. To strangle it in its cradle, so to speak.

“Your grandfather plucked me out of the dirt and gave me a well to live in…

“But he abandoned the well. And he abandoned me.

“When I tried to crawl out, your father kicked me in the face and told me to stay down there. He told me I should know my place.

“And so I grew like the dragon in the story.

“I rose in the ranks of the family I worked for… I consolidated my power in the rural areas until I was truly a man to be feared.

“And then I killed my employers. I strangled their children in their cradles… and took over everything myself.

“I quickly gained a great deal of wealth. A lot of heroin flows from North Africa through southern Sicily, and from there to the rest of Europe. I became the man it flowed through.

“But I hungered for something more.

“Sicily is a small island, and I grew tired of it.

“I outgrew my well, you might say.

“Then I heard about your father’s death.

“And while it galled me that Leonardo should have ignored me all those years, I let him be. Because of the debt I owed your grandfather.

“But now that your father was gone, I was curious.

“I wondered if you and your brothers were young dragons yourselves…

“Or just puppies to be drowned in a sack.

“So I decided to see for myself.

“I decided to venture forth like your grandfather…

“To stake my claim in Tuscany…

“And take what I want.

“What I’m owed.”

Mezzasalma paused long enough to grind out his second cigarette and light a third. As he blew out a mouthful of smoke, he looked Adriano in the face.

“Surprised? There are a great many things you don’t know about, boy. Because your father hid them from you.”

“And now they’re coming to light,” Adriano said with a smile. “Like the squirming things you see when you turn over a rock.”

Mezzasalma didn’t find that amusing.

“I want Fabrizio Lettieri,” he said coldly.

“So go find him. I’m not stopping you.”

“But you are. I need her…” Mezzasalma pointed at me. “…to draw him out of hiding.”

The skin on my neck prickled to hear this psychopath talk about me and my father.

“You give her to me,” Mezzasalma continued, “and I’ll let you and your brothers slide, like I did with your father. For old time’s sake. Maybe I’ll even cut you a deal, personally.”

Adriano smirked. “What kind of a deal?”

“The kind I made with Carmine Agrella. He desperately wanted to be the don and not a second-hand pimp. So I agreed… provided he could deliver your head on a platter.”

“Didn’t turn out so well for him.”

“No, it didn’t – because he failed. Obviously, since your head is still attached to your neck.” Mezzasalma paused… then smiled. “So far, anyway.”

“And that’s why you killed him? And all the others?”

The old man shrugged. “It was better just to wipe the slate clean.”

“And blame all those deaths on my family.”

“Like I said… puppies in a sack to be thrown in the river. But you can save yourself, Adriano. You can be the one who throws the sack in, rather than the one who drowns with all the rest.”

Adriano smiled coldly. “Just out of curiosity… the reason you want Bianca’s father – does it have anything to do with a man who was in Bautiste Agrella’s office the day you killed him and his brothers?” Adriano turned to me and gestured towards Mezzasalma. “I’m assuming this isn’t the same guy, seeing as he only has one cruel eye, not two.”

I froze in terror.

Adriano was talking about the man I’d seen at the modelling agency.

I didn’t know why he was bringing it up…

But he was obviously looking for some reaction from Mezzasalma.

Otherwise, why provoke him?

But Mezzasalma remained totally still – perhaps too still.

Like he was hiding something.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Adriano smirked. “I’m sure.”

“Give me the girl and you can name your price.”

“Why do you want her father so badly?”

“Signor Lettieri has something of mine. And I want it back.”

Adriano scoffed. “What – is it money? I’ll pay you any amount he owes.”

Mezzasalma’s smile was chilling. “Not money.”

“I don’t understand. What does he have that you find so valuable?”

“One might ask the same about his daughter. You say that you would pay any amount Lettieri owes – why? What does she possess that you find so valuable? Surely you’ve sampled the goods by now. Are they really so exquisite? Is she truly any better than one of the Agrellas’ whores?”

Anger flared up inside me –

But it was nothing like the rage I saw on Adriano’s face.

“Watch your tongue, old man, before I cut it out and make you eat it.”

Mezzasalma grinned. “You’ve just shown your hand, boy. You were never going to give her to me… so I’ll just have to take her.”

Suddenly, outside the glass dome, there was the pop pop pop pop of distant gunfire.

Mezzasalma looked up at the now-dark sky and took a puff on his cigarette. “Oh… there goes your sniper.”

I know I looked up at the buildings in panic –

But Adriano didn’t.

His eyes remained fixed on Mezzasalma.

But maybe it was the fact that the old man’s head was turned…

That allowed him to get the drop on Adriano.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the old man’s right hand twitch –

And something popped out of the sleeve of his suit jacket.

There was a flash of light –

And two gunshots went off at the table, separated by a hundredth of a second.

BANG!

BANG!

Adriano jerked –

And fell out of his chair onto the floor.

82

“ADRIANO!” I screamed.

Suddenly gunfire erupted all over the restaurant.

Strangers poured into the room, guns blazing.

Massimo and the other Rosolini men took cover and opened fire.

Guests screamed and darted beneath their tables –

The musicians in the band scattered –

And Mezzasalma’s calloused hand closed around my arm and hauled me to my feet.

“ADRIANO!” I screamed.

I saw him struggle to get up from the floor –

Before Mezzasalma fired two more bullets into him.

BANG BANG!

Adriano fell out of sight behind the table.

I screamed in horror –

And the old man began dragging me across the room.

His men lined up behind him and fired at any Rosolini soldier who dared show their head.

Mezzasalma fired at them, too – and for the first time, I saw his weapon.

There was some kind of a mechanical arm, a contraption that had been folded inside his suit jacket.

When he’d flicked his wrist, it had extended to its full length –

And placed a small gun right in the palm of his hand.

Within a few seconds, he had dragged me across the room into the underground passageway leading to the lobby.

There were gunshots up ahead of us –

And Mezzasalma put his pistol to my head.

Valentino Rosolini stood farther down the hallway with a gun aimed at us.

A dead man lay at his feet.

“Get out of my way, boy, or I’ll plaster her brains all over the wall,” Mezzasalma growled.

Valentino looked into my eyes –

And immediately withdrew, disappearing around a corner.

Mezzasalma forced me along, using me as a human shield should Valentino change his mind.

He dragged me up the stairs to the street just as a silver car roared up.

A clean-shaven man with sandy-colored hair jumped out of the driver’s side and rushed around the front. He left the door open and the engine running.

Behind us, the gunfire crescendoed inside the restaurant –

Pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop –

And then it was over.

People in the street were running and screaming.

Mezzasalma opened the passenger door of the car and shoved me inside.

“Get in the back and keep a gun on her,” he ordered the sandy-haired man, then slammed the door shut on me.

Mezzasalma limped around to the driver’s side. His black jacket was wet and gleaming in the headlights.

That explained the two gunshots I’d heard a split second apart –

They weren’t from the same gun.

Adriano had shot Mezzasalma, too…

Although not nearly as badly as Mezzasalma had shot Adriano.

“You’re hit,” the sandy-haired man said in alarm.

“I’m fine – get in the back,” Mezzasalma snarled as he slipped into the driver’s seat and put on his seatbelt.

The other man got in the back –

And I felt the barrel of a gun press against the base of my skull.

“Don’t kill her, you fool,” Mezzasalma snapped. “If she gets out of line, just shoot her in the kneecap.”

Then he put the car into gear, and we roared off down the road.

83

Adriano

Gunshots blasted all around me as I groaned in agony.

Mezzasalma’s first shot had caught me off guard; the next two added insult to injury.

Thank God for Signor Guillardo’s tuxedo.

He was famous in the Cosa Nostra for his bulletproof vests seamlessly combined with dress suits.

I’d ordered the ‘special padding’ –

Meaning I’d wanted everything covered.

Torso –

Legs –

And especially my cock.

A titanium codpiece.

Not the most comfortable accessory, but priceless all the same.

As it was, Mezzasalma’s three bullets hadn’t pierced my skin –

But the suit only stopped bullets.

It couldn’t magically displace all that force.

My abdomen felt like Mike Tyson had sucker-punched me –

And I was pretty sure at least two of my ribs were broken.

Small price to pay for not getting my dick shot off, though.

“Adriano!” a tinny voice shouted in my ear.

It wasn’t Bianca, though.

I’d heard her cries grow fainter as Mezzasalma dragged her across the restaurant.

My men had orders that she was to be protected at all costs, so I wasn’t worried that she would get shot –

But I was terrified that she was now in the hands of the devil himself.

“Adriano – ”

“What?!” I hissed as I forced myself to all fours.

“You alright?”

It was Valentino speaking through the tiny electronic earpiece I was wearing.

“No, I’m not!”

“Are you hit?!”

“Yeah, but not bleeding,” I said as I gritted my teeth.

I poked my head just high enough above the table to see what was going on.

Mezzasalma’s thugs were over to my left. They were firing at Massimo and my men over to the right.

Civilians were everywhere, screaming and hiding.

“Oh shit – he just came through with Bianca!” Valentino said.

“Let them through!” I yelled. “Do NOT engage, do you hear me?!”

And then I opened fire on Mezzasalma’s men.

I guess they thought I was dead.

Surprise, surprise.

I shot three of them before they realized what was going on.

Their biggest problem was they were caught in a crossfire:

Massimo and our men opposite them –

And me 90 degrees to their left.

There was nowhere to hide, and we sliced them to ribbons.

When the shooting stopped, no one was moving on the Mezzasalma men’s side…

Though there was lots of groaning.

I released the clip in my gun, slapped in a new one, and staggered across the restaurant.

“Where’s Bianca?” I snarled.

“I’ve got eyes on her,” Valentino said. “Some guy drove up in a Rolls Royce. Mezzasalma put her in the passenger seat – he’s staggering around the front. Looks like he’s been shot.”

Finally, ONE good piece of news, I thought.

I could’ve sworn I hit the guy at the same time he hit me.

Not sure if he had a bulletproof vest on…

But he was Sicilian…

And from the way he looked, tough as nails.

“Mezzasalma just drove off with Bianca,” Valentino informed me.

“Get me a fucking car,” I snarled.

“You got it.”

Suddenly Massimo was beside me.

He bent down, ducked his head under my shoulder, and helped me go faster across the restaurant.

“You hit?” he asked.

“I’ll live. What about Lars?”

A new voice spoke in my ear, calm and collected.

“Sorry, man – they had somebody on a nearby rooftop pinning us down.”

“It’s alright, as long as you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“What about the shooter?”

“Dead.”

“Good. Call Niccolo and tell him about Mezzasalma having men around the house.”

“Already did as soon as the bastard said it.”

My team – Lars, Valentino, and Massimo – had been listening the entire time via a microphone in my tux.

“Then tell Nic I need the chopper to tail Mezzasalma.”

That was part of the plan – to have a helicopter on standby if we needed it.

“Roger that,” Lars said.

“You can’t drive in the shape you’re in,” Massimo said.

“The hell I can’t.”

“I’ll take the wheel – you take shotgun.”

“Alright,” I agreed.

As we burst into the lobby, Valentino came rushing up. “Vincenzo’s outside.”

“Good,” I grunted as Massimo helped me hobble up the stairs.

Valentino ran alongside us. “Can I go with you?”

“No. Evacuate our men and help any civilians if you can.”

“But – ”

“Do it!” I roared – half from the pain I was in, half from frustration. “The cops’ll be here any minute – you gotta be gone by then!”

“Okay,” Valentino said, then ran back down the stairs.

Massimo and I reached the street, where Vincenzo was waiting in one of our family’s bulletproof Mercedes.

Massimo flung open the passenger door and eased me into the seat.

Vincenzo looked over at me in shock. “Holy shit – ”

“Get out,” Massimo told him right before he closed the door.

Vincenzo followed orders as my brother ran around the front.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” Vincenzo asked.

“No, help Valentino,” Massimo said.

He slipped into the driver’s seat and slid it back as far as he could to accommodate his huge frame. Then he slammed the door and turned to me. “You good?”

“Let’s fuckin’ do this.”

Massimo stomped on the accelerator and we were off.

84

Bianca

The car roared down the streets of Florence at breakneck speed, zipping around other vehicles and occasionally swerving into oncoming traffic.

I was terrified and quickly put on my seatbelt.

We ran several red lights and barely avoided being plowed into by other cars.

Mezzasalma might have been old and wounded, but he was a terror behind the wheel.

He would even drive up onto sidewalks and nearly hit pedestrians to get around slower cars.

The sandy-haired man in the backseat rolled down his window and peered up at the sky. “I think we’ve got a helicopter tailing us.”

Mezzasalma scowled. “Are you sure?”

“I guess it could be a news chopper, but – ”

“No, it’s them,” the old man snarled. “It’s too much of a coincidence for it not to be.”

“What should we do?”

The old man smirked. “Wait until we’re out of the city so the buildings won’t get in the way… then take it out.”

I was only half-listening to their conversation.

All I could think about was Adriano.

Was he still alive?

Please, God, let him be alright, I prayed as the city of Florence flashed all around us.

85

Adriano

Massimo drove like a fiend out of hell.

We roared through traffic as we followed the directions given to us by the helicopter pilot.

“They’re heading east on Viale Eturia,” the voice said into my ear.

“Got it,” Massimo said. He had an earpiece of his own.

He shifted gears and took a hard left down a side street.

“It looks like they’re headed for the countryside.”

“Where the fuck are they going?” Massimo muttered.

Then my phone rang.

Niccolo’s name appeared on the screen.

I answered immediately. “Mezzasalma has teams around the house.”

“We heard, but we think it’s a bluff. There’s nothing on the cameras.”

The old bastard…

He’d lied so we wouldn’t put a bullet in his head.

“But we’re being careful,” Niccolo continued. “We’ve got Bianca’s parents and Alessandra in a safe room. What’s going on there?”

“Mezzasalma’s got Bianca. Massimo’s driving and the helicopter’s telling us where to go.”

“What do you need?”

“The helicopter can fly someone to the hospital, right?”

“Yes,” the pilot said into my earphone.

“Yes,” Niccolo confirmed at the same time.

“Then get ready in case we need it.”

86

Bianca

The car left Florence and roared down a highway into the darkness.

As soon as the traffic thinned out, Mezzasalma stomped on the accelerator.

I watched nervously as the speedometer crept up.

130 kilometers per hour… 145… 160…

Which was the equivalent of 80 miles per hour… 90… 100…

But Mezzasalma was still weaving around individual cars like a race car driver.

“Where are we going?” I asked in fear.

“Out in the countryside,” Mezzasalma said with a nasty grin. “To see some friends of mine who will love to meet you.”

“We’re clear of the city, boss,” the sandy-haired man said. “You want me to… oh shit…”

“What?” Mezzasalma snapped.

“I think somebody’s chasing us in a car now, too…”

Mezzasalma peered into the rearview mirror. I saw his white, useless eye twitching as he looked.

Rather than get my head closer to his, I turned around to see out the back window.

In the distance, a tiny set of headlights broke out of a pack of slower cars. It was gaining ground.

“Shit,” Mezzasalma snarled.

My heart leapt in my chest.

Adriano?!

But that was impossible –

…wasn’t it?

87

Adriano

The directions from the helicopter had done the trick; we were within sight of the Rolls Royce.

Not that it did us any good, other than to follow them wherever they were headed.

The Rolls was probably bulletproofed, just like our Mercedes –

But even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t risk taking a shot that might hit Bianca.

And I couldn’t try to shoot out a tire. At the speed we were going, the car might flip.

Massimo knew it, too, which is why he didn’t badger me about shooting them.

Instead he asked, “What do you want me to do?”

“Get closer,” I growled.

Just let her be okay, God – please – just let her be okay –

88

Bianca

I looked in the rearview mirror, the side mirror, even turned around in my seat to see if I could tell who was driving the car behind us –

But it was impossible with those bright headlights shining at us.

The sandy-haired man was preoccupied with our pursuers and had stopped holding his gun to my head.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked Mezzasalma.

“How many shots do you have?”

“One. So it’s either the helicopter or the car.”

That made no sense –

He only had one bullet?

Mezzasalma pushed a button, and the sunroof over our heads retracted.

Air ripped into the car at hurricane speeds, blowing my hair around like feathers in a windstorm.

“See if you can shoot the tires out first,” Mezzasalma shouted over the roar of the wind.

The sandy-haired man nodded and grabbed an Uzi from the floor of the car.

Then he crawled up onto the center console between me and Mezzasalma and poked his upper body out of the sunroof.

89

Adriano

“We got a shooter,” I snarled.

“I see him,” Massimo said.

A guy had appeared out of the sunroof on the Rolls.

In his hands was an Uzi –

Which he started firing at us.

The muzzle flashes lit up against the dark sky –

And bullets slammed into the windshield and hood of our car.

Ping ping ping ping ping!

The windshield cracked but didn’t break.

“FUCK,” Massimo swore, but he stayed the course.

I suddenly realized we were gaining on the Rolls at a faster rate.

Having the sunroof retracted must have made the car less aerodynamic and slowed it down.

“Get as close as you can,” I said. “Bumper to bumper if possible. When he reloads, I’ll open my window and try to hit him.”

“You got it,” Massimo muttered as he edged the car forward.

90

Bianca

I heard the chatter of the Uzi over the roaring wind and I shrieked.

The Mercedes wasn’t deterred, though.

In fact, it came closer.

Suddenly there was a click as the Uzi ran out of bullets.

At that precise moment, the Mercedes drove right up behind us –

Close enough that the headlights were suddenly blocked by the rear of our car.

Without the lights blinding me, I could see the outline of the black car perfectly –

And a figure emerging from the passenger window, his upper body hanging out into the wind.

Adriano.

I could see his face in the red glow of our tail lights.

My heart soared and I nearly cried out with joy.

He’s alive!

I figured the bulky figure behind the wheel must be Massimo.

I couldn’t believe it –

They’re going to save me!

The sandy-haired man dropped down from the sunroof and back inside the car. “SHIT!”

A split-second later, muzzle flashes erupted from the gun in Adriano’s hand.

None of them struck the car –

And I realized he must have been shooting at the sandy-haired man.

“Hold on,” Mezzasalma snarled –

And tapped the brakes.

Our car slowed and the Mercedes rammed into us.

Adriano snapped forward like a rag doll, though he didn’t fall out of the window.

The Mercedes immediately slowed down and backed off.

Mezzasalma grinned, his cold white eye glinting.

“I’ve decided,” he shouted over the wind at the sandy-haired man. “Take out the car.”

91

Adriano

Back in the restaurant, Mezzasalma’s gunshots had broken a couple of my ribs.

It was painful just to breathe –

But adrenaline and my terror for Bianca helped me ignore it.

I couldn’t ignore it anymore when we slammed into the Rolls and I got tossed around like a ragdoll.

It felt like knives were stabbing into my lungs.

I grunted and slipped back inside the car.

“You alright?” Massimo yelled as he tapped on the brakes and our car backed off.

“Yeah,” I grunted. “Just stay on him.”

92

Bianca

The sandy-haired man opened a bulky container sitting on the back seat –

And pulled out an olive-colored metal cylinder.

It was about two feet long and four inches in diameter.

There were small rectangular blocks affixed to the top like some sort of gunsights.

Then he pulled something else out of the case:

A metallic tube about a foot long.

There was a trio of fins at the base…

And a bulbous tip that resembled an elongated grenade.

I stared in terror as I realized what I was looking at:

A rocket launcher.

I remembered what Mezzasalma had said about the helicopter.

Wait until we’re out of the city so the buildings won’t get in the way… then take it out.

If the rocket was powerful enough to take down a helicopter, it would absolutely destroy a car –

Whether it was bulletproof or not.

“Keep it steady,” the sandy-haired man said as he crawled back onto the center console.

“Just make it count,” Mezzasalma snarled.

Then the man hoisted himself back up through the sunroof.

93

Adriano

The gunman was coming back out of the sunroof…

But he no longer had an Uzi.

He had something else braced on top of his shoulder.

“What the hell is that?” Massimo muttered.

Suddenly, I knew.

“ROCKET LAUNCHER!” I screamed. “BRAKE, BRAKE – ”

Massimo slammed on the brakes –

But by then, it was over.

94

Bianca

It felt like an eternity…

But it probably happened in less than two seconds. While the sandy-haired man was getting into position.

I knew without a doubt that if he fired it, Adriano would die.

I couldn’t let that happen.

I couldn’t.

Our car was speeding along a ridge, a high hill above the countryside.

There weren’t any cars near us besides the Mercedes.

A metal guard rail went by in a blur to my right, the reflectors flashing in our headlights.

Beyond them was only darkness.

I wondered if that was what death would be like –

Going beyond what you could see, then into darkness.

I glanced over at Mezzasalma.

He was fixated on the rearview mirror –

And his bad eye was the one closest to me.

If I was going to do it, I had to do it now.

I had two last thoughts in my head:

Keep my parents safe, Adriano.

And…

I love you.

I reached out with my left hand and clicked the release on Mezzasalma’s seatbelt.

I heard him exclaim, “What – !”

But I had already leaned over and grabbed the steering wheel –

And I turned it as hard as I could to the right.

We hit the guardrail at eighty miles per hour.

There was a screech of metal –

A jolt –

The world turned upside down –

And then we were through…

…into the darkness.

95

Adriano

The Rolls hit the guard rail.

The metal buckled immediately in a shower of sparks –

And the car flipped.

“NOOOOOOOO!” I screamed in horror.

I saw the guy with the rocket launcher jerk back, the tube ripped from his shoulder by the impact –

And he disappeared as the car flipped.

The undercarriage of the car was all we could see –

And then that disappeared over the edge, too.

A second later came the first impact, metal hitting into the ground, louder than thunder.

Massimo slammed on the brakes.

The Mercedes skidded hard and went into a fishtail…

Then came to a halt about 90 feet away from the hole in the guard rail.

I was out of the car before we completely stopped.

“BIANCA!” I screamed as I stumbled across the road, running for the gap in the metal.

I ignored the white-hot shards of pain that seared my guts and lungs.

None of that existed for me.

Nothing existed but her –

And the hope that she might still be alive.

“ADRIANO, WAIT!” Massimo bellowed as he got out of the Mercedes.

I ignored him as I reached the mangled guard rail and slipped down into the underbrush covering the hill.

The Rolls was about 50 feet below me, upside down, its wheels still spinning.

Somehow the car had turned around as it slid. The headlights were facing the road, and they lit my way as I scrambled down the hill.

Then I reached the gunman with the rocket launcher.

Or at least the top half of him.

His body had been ripped in two, sheared off by the impact of the car roof with the hillside.

I ignored the horror of it all and continued down the hill.

I reached the passenger side door of the Rolls. I jerked at the handle and flung it open…

And there was Bianca, hanging upside down, her body held in place by the seatbelt.

There was blood everywhere.

Covering the leather upholstery…

The airbags that had deployed from the dashboard…

And all over her.

“Baby – baby, can you hear me?!” I cried out, nearly sobbing, as I leaned in close.

No answer…

But she was still alive.

I could hear her ragged, wheezing breath.

“PILOT, GET DOWN HERE!” I screamed as I reached inside to try and support her body.

“Roger,” the pilot said in my ear. “I’m setting down in the field near the car.”

I heard the roar of the chopper above me, saw the spotlight out of the corner of my eye, felt the wind whipping around me –

But it was like something happening down a muted, distant hallway.

All that mattered was Bianca.

My whole world in that instant was her.

I found the release on the seatbelt and braced myself as I clicked it.

Her body slumped upside down into my arms. I fell backward as I pulled her out, her body cushioned by mine.

Once she was on the ground with me, I gently got her on the grass and checked her.

There were minor cuts and scrapes on her face, probably from the airbag deploying…

But there were no other cuts or wounds.

That was when I realized all the blood was probably from the guy who’d been cut in half.

For a second, I allowed myself to hope.

“Baby?” I yelled over the noise from the helicopter. “Baby, can you hear me?”

No answer.

Footsteps came rushing up behind me.

Massimo.

“Let me take her,” he shouted as the wind whipped around us.

“I…”

“You’re in no shape to carry her! Let me take her,” Massimo yelled. “Please.”

I hesitated, then nodded.

He reached under her body, then lifted her into the air like he was carrying a child.

“Come on, we gotta get you to the hospital, too,” he yelled at me.

The wind whipped her red dress around as Massimo walked towards the chopper.

I strained to get to my feet…

And then I remembered something.

I turned back to the car.

Mezzasalma was there on the driver’s side.

He hadn’t been wearing his seatbelt. His body was broken and twisted like a pretzel, his head bent at an unnatural angle on the ceiling of the car.

But he was smiling.

His vacant gaze stared at me mockingly… especially that one white eye…

And he leered at me with yellow teeth in his blood-stained face.

I think he was dead…

I was almost sure of it…

But I didn’t give a shit.

My rage was beyond reason.

I pulled out my gun and I unloaded every bullet I had into his face.

When I heard the click that let me know it was empty…

I got to my feet, then turned and staggered towards the chopper after Massimo…

…and my girl.

My Bianca.

96

Bianca

For a long time, there was only darkness.

There wasn’t anything to see… but I felt like I was moving from room to room, wandering in a maze of shadows.

Occasionally faces would appear like ghosts –

The faces of people I loved.

My mother…

My father…

Adriano.

Him most of all.

The face that I loved.

And there were voices.

Small and far away, but I heard them…

And I tried to follow them through the maze.

Several I didn’t recognize…

But several I did.

Again, my mother’s…

My father’s…

And Adriano’s.

His was the voice that I followed the most…

And the one I most wanted to find.

I could have let go if it had just been my parents.

I had known them all my life, and it would have been alright if I had just drifted away.

But Adriano…

I wanted him.

And I’d only had him such a short time.

So I keep moving, and searching, and fumbling my way through the darkness…

Until I saw the first glimmer of light.

97

I opened my eyes.

I was in a beige room.

Off to my right was a huge window. Through it I could see the rooftops of old Florence and the sun shining down from a deep blue sky.

There was a high-pitched beep… beep… beep.

It reminded me of medical shows – episodes of E.R. I’d watched on the internet.

My mouth was dry like cotton…

And my entire body ached.

Then I remembered the last thing before the darkness:

The car flipping over the guard rail –

The entire world going topsy-turvy –

Oh, I realized.

I must be in the hospital.

I shifted my head on my pillow so I could see the room around me.

There was a man sitting on a chair by my bed, his upper body bent over, his forearms resting on his legs. His head was down and his hands were clasped together. It almost looked like he was praying.

That threw me for a second because I’d never seen any indication of religion in the man I knew and loved…

But even without seeing his face, I would have known the rest of his body anywhere.

“…Adriano…?” I said.

I was surprised at how my voice sounded: like a raspy croak.

The man lifted his head like he’d heard a gunshot.

It was him. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked pale and drawn, but it was my Adriano.

He stared at my face like he’d seen a ghost –

Then he scrambled over to my side and got down on one knee so he could clasp my hand.

“Baby,” he said, and I swear I’d never heard him sound happier.

“…hey…” I whispered.

He kissed my hand with both pain and passion…

And then he stood up, leaned over me, and kissed me lightly on the mouth.

His lips were so soft and warm…

While mine felt chapped and dry.

I frowned. He was wearing different clothes – a dark blue shirt and black slacks.

“…how long have I been out?” I whispered.

“Three days.”

My own eyes opened wide. “…three days?”

He grinned and nodded. “Yeah. This is the first time you’ve woken up. In fact – ”

He reached over and pressed a button on a plastic box.

“…what’s that?”

“I’m calling the nurse so she can tell your parents.”

“…they’re here…?”

“Of course they’re here. They’re just taking a break, getting something to eat.”

The door to the room opened, and a woman poked her head in. “Yes?”

Then she saw me, and her eyes went wide. “Oh…”

“Would you go find her parents?” Adriano asked. “They should be in the cafeteria.”

The nurse nodded, then hurriedly slipped out the door.

Adriano knelt down next to my bed again and winced like he was in pain.

“…what’s wrong…?”

“Nothing. It’s fine.”

I searched my memory for what had happened – what might explain his grimace.

Then I remembered.

“…you got shot!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, but I’m okay.”

“…why aren’t you in the hospital?”

He looked around the room as a joke. “I am.”

“…but – ”

“It’s fine. I was wearing a bulletproof vest. I just had some minor injuries. It was nothing compared to what you went through.” He held my hand and stared deeply into my eyes. “You were the one who wrecked Mezzasalma’s car, weren’t you?”

I had to search my memory.

But there it was – the feel of the steering wheel in my hands as I turned it as far as I could.

“…yeah.”

Suddenly panic reared up ice-cold inside of me.

“Is he – ”

“He’s dead,” Adriano reassured me. “It’s over.”

I could breathe again. I settled back on my pillow, relieved.

“Thank you,” Adriano whispered. “You saved my life. Massimo’s, too. The guy in the sunroof, he was going to kill us – but you saved our lives. And nearly paid for it with your own.”I smiled at him. “…ride or die… right?”

His eyes brimmed with tears. He was too choked up to speak for a few seconds… but when he did, he whispered fiercely, “I love you.”

Those words…

They were like honey.

Like a drink of cool water after days of thirst.

I smiled even bigger. “…because I’m a crazy bitch?”

It was a callback to what he’d said on our drive back to Florence from his family’s house:

Because I didn’t realize how crazy a bitch you actually are.

He recognized the joke immediately and grinned. “That… and you’re amazing in bed.”

“…damn straight…”

Then he grew serious. “And because you’re the bravest, smartest, most incredible woman I’ve ever met.”

My own eyes welled up.

I reached up to rub the tears away and realized I had an IV stuck in my arm.

“…God… I must look like shit…”

“On the contrary, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He reached into his pants pocket. “There was something I wanted to ask you. I already talked to your parents, and they’re good with it.”

He held out a small clamshell box…

And opened it up to reveal a stunning diamond ring on a bed of black velvet.

My heart stopped when I saw it.

“Bianca Lettieri,” he whispered, “you are the most astounding woman I’ve ever met – and the only one who has ever captured my heart. You saved my life… and I can’t imagine the rest of it without you. I love you. Will you marry me?”

That’s when my tears really started flowing.

I couldn’t speak, but I smiled and nodded vigorously.

“Yes?” he whispered with a smile.

I finally found my voice.

“…yes!”

He leaned over and kissed me –

Sweetly… gently… passionately.

And then he slipped the ring onto my hand.

I stared at the diamond in wonder as it glinted in the light.

“Do you like it?”

“…it’s gorgeous… and it fits perfectly.”

He made a face like a mischievous little boy. “I kind of slipped it on your finger while you were asleep… just to make sure.”

I laughed out loud, then pulled him closer so I could kiss him again.

Suddenly the door opened and my parents came rushing in.

“Bianca!” my mother cried out, her face wet with tears.

My father was crying, too. “Paperotta!”

They both surrounded my bed. Adriano got out of the way so my mother could be on one side and my father could be on the other.

Then my mother saw the ring on my finger.

“You said yes!” she cried out joyfully.

I nodded and smiled as she kissed my forehead.

My father was sobbing, and he turned around and hugged Adriano.

Adriano hugged him, too, and grinned at me over my father’s shoulder.

I smiled back at him through my tears.

It was the happiest moment of my life.

98

And yet, an even happier moment came just four weeks later…

When we got married.

It all happened in a blur…

But a lot happened before that.

* * *

Alessandra and Dario came to visit me before I was discharged. As soon as she saw me, Alessandra got a look on her face that was a combination of joy and bittersweet pain.

“I always wanted a sister… and I had hoped it was going to be you… and then we almost lost you,” she said, her voice quivering as she hugged me.

I hugged her back. “But you didn’t. And I’m so glad I get to have you as a sister, too.”

We cried happy tears, and then she let go of me.

Then Dario came over. He looked stoic as ever, but his voice was full of emotion.

“I owe you a debt I can never repay,” he said. “You saved not just one but two of my brothers’ lives. Thank you.”

“You took my parents in… you were kind to them… and you kept them safe,” I said with tears in my eyes. “As far as I’m concerned, you owe me nothing.”

Dario smiled, then leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. “Benvenuto in famiglia, sorellina.”

Welcome to the family, little sister.

* * *

Once I got out of the hospital, everything happened so fast.

Alessandra was showing me pictures of flower arrangements hours after I returned to the mansion in Tuscany.

At one point I asked shyly if I could design my own wedding dress.

Adriano said, “Of course!”

I had been making sketches for years, designing the dress of my dreams.

The white silk… the pearls sewn to the bodice… the tiny loops in the headdress to hold white rosebuds on the veil…

Now it was about to become a reality.

The Rosolini brothers paid $80,000 to the top seamstresses in Florence to have it ready in time.

I was absolutely astonished.

“Why are we doing this so quickly?” I asked.

“What, you don’t want to marry me?” Adriano joked as he pulled me in close, his arms around my waist.

“No, it’s just so fast!”

“There are two types of mafia weddings. Ones with engagements that last for years – because the families don’t trust each other, or there’s an arranged marriage and nobody really wants to do it, or whatever the reason. And then there’s all the other weddings. They happen as fast as possible.”

“Why?”

“Because none of us knows what tomorrow will bring… and we want to squeeze as much happiness out of whatever time we have left.”

A slight chill went up my back when he said it…

Because I’d lived through it.

Shot at in the hotel…

Chased through Florence…

Kidnapped by Mezzasalma…

Nearly dying in a car wreck.

I saw a lot of wisdom in what Adriano was saying.

And though he had assured me that Mezzasalma’s people no longer posed a threat to us…

I decided I liked my fiancé’s philosophy on how to do things.

“Okay,” I agreed. “Let’s go as fast as possible.”

99

The big day came… and it was perfect.

My friends from design school all came…

As did a dozen of my parents’ friends.

Alessandra was my maid of honor, and my roommate Emma was a bridesmaid.

Dario was Adriano’s best man, and Massimo was the groomsman.

But oddly, outside of his brothers, not that many people attended on Adriano’s side. Only Alessandra’s long-lost relatives from Genoa were there.

Niccolo gave me an explanation while Alessandra was doing a final once-over of my dress.

“Normally, we have all sorts of guests,” Niccolo said. “People you hope you’ll never see again in your life – members of other families.”

“Mafia families,” I clarified.

He sighed. “…the Cosa Nostra, yes.”

I had noticed he didn’t like referring to them as ‘mafia.’ He always used Cosa Nostra instead.

“My wedding was the strangest thing ever,” Alessandra told me. “All these strangers around me, some of whom wanted Dario dead.”

“Why’d they come, then?” I asked in astonishment. “And why’d you let them?!”

“It’s a diplomatic thing,” Niccolo explained. “We’re like a bunch of warring nation-states who call a truce for weddings. We make an appearance… pay our respects… and then go back to trying to kill each other the next day.”

“Wonderful,” I muttered.

“Isn’t it?” he said with mock cheerfulness.

“Then why aren’t there any warring nation-states here today?”

“Fallout from the Mezzasalma situation. Rome, Venice, Italy, Milan, and Naples are still keeping their distance, and everybody else is afraid of angering them. They want to see how it all shakes out first. Therefore… a lot fewer guests than normal.”

“Huh…”

“Trust me – you’re not missing anything. I guess they do tend to give a lot of cash as wedding gifts, but don’t worry – we’ve got you covered.”

I laughed. “Money is the least of my worries these days – which is something I never thought I would say.”

Niccolo smiled. “How are you holding up?”

He meant my injuries from the car crash.

“Great. I feel back to normal again. I’m better off than Adriano.”

My fiancé’s fractured ribs were still causing him pain. The doctors had said it might take 12 weeks before everything healed fully.

“He’ll be fine,” Niccolo said, waving it off. “He’s tough.”

“Niccolo, seriously… is everything okay? Not just Adriano – I mean everything else.”

“Mezzasalma’s men are all dead or fled – and with the Agrellas gone, Florence is fully in our hands for the first time ever. Adriano has restored order, the police have calmed down, we’ve paid off the politicians, and everything’s back to normal. Better than normal, actually. We no longer have a bunch of shady business partners stabbing us in the back.”

“But Mezzasalma was Sicilian,” I said, and turned to Alessandra. “Didn’t you tell me the old lady who tried to kill Dario was Sicilian, too?”

“…yes,” Alessandra admitted.

“That’s a pretty big coincidence, isn’t it?”

“We have our issues with the Sicilians,” Niccolo said, “but we’ll handle it. Just like we’ll handle Rome and Venice and the rest.”

“What about the man I saw at the modeling agency?”

“Probably just a minor player. Might have been nobody. If he’s important, I’m sure he’ll pop up again someday.”

“But – ”

“Look,” Niccolo said as he took my hands, “I won’t lie to you: there will be difficulties. There always are in our line of work. But we will prevail. And everything you did – every risk you took, every time you were willing to sacrifice for this family – is a huge part of why we’ll prevail. So no more worrying about this, alright? Just enjoy today… and relax.”

I smiled. “Okay.”

He kissed my hand affectionately –

And then we heard the organ music start.

“Better hurry,” he said playfully. “Don’t want to be late for your own wedding.”

* * *

The ceremony took place on the emerald lawn behind the Rosolinis’ mansion.

There were dozens of folding chairs set out, along with gorgeous flower arrangements that led up to the altar.

My father barely kept it together as he walked me down the aisle. I smiled and kissed him, then joined Adriano at the altar.

He had never looked more handsome than he was at that moment – and he stared at me with more love in his eyes than I had ever seen before.

When we both said “I do,” and the priest said, “You may now kiss the bride” –

It was the most romantic moment of my life.

Adriano held me in his arms and kissed me…

And the entire world faded away…

Until I was brought back by the cheers of my friends and family.

Everything…

…was absolutely perfect.

100

The rest of the evening was wonderful, too, as we danced and ate under a beautiful Tuscan sky.

At one point, Roberto approached me while Adriano was talking to someone else.

Though Roberto and Niccolo were fraternal twins, they looked almost exactly alike – although Roberto always wore his hair slicked back like a banker, while Niccolo wore his hair loose.

“I understand you want to be a fashion designer,” Roberto said.

“Well, that was my original plan, but… we’ll have to see how it goes.”

To be honest, I had temporarily set aside my dreams in that department. With the insanity of everything that had happened, I could only concentrate on one thing at a time – and for right now, that meant getting married.

So I’d dropped out of fashion school… but I definitely wanted to continue my studies one day.

“I’ve talked to every woman at the wedding,” Roberto told me, “to get an unbiased opinion. Not just from my brothers, or Alessandra, or your parents. And every single one of them said your dress is astounding. ‘Better than Vera Wang,’ as one of them put it. And all of them said that if they had the money, they would absolutely buy something you designed.”

A flush of pride filled my chest. “Thank you. Although, to be honest, when you and your brothers paid that much money for the best seamstresses in Italy – ”

Roberto waved my objections aside. “Don’t be modest. They were working off your designs. The real reason I wanted to talk to you was… would you consider opening a boutique in Florence?”

I stared at him in astonishment, unable to speak.

“You see, we’re always looking to diversify,” he explained. “You already know we want to be 100% legitimate within two years. I figure this could be an excellent investment for the family. I ran the numbers and I think it’s a no-brainer to start off small, then expand if there’s sufficient demand.”

“Did… did Adriano ask you to do this?” I asked, astounded.

Roberto frowned like that was ridiculous. “Good God, no. No offense to my brother, but he doesn’t know the first thing about business.”

“So this… isn’t something he put you up to?”

“No, of course not.”

“You’re not just doing this to be nice to me?”

Roberto snorted. “This is about making money. If I wanted to be ‘nice’ to you, I would have bought you a blender.”

“And… the others are okay with it?”

“Well, I make all the business decisions for the family, but I already cleared it with Dario. After seeing the finished product,” Roberto said as he gestured at my dress, “he thinks it’s an excellent idea.”

“He does?!”

Roberto looked at me like I was a little odd, but he laughed. “Yes, he does.”

My mouth gaped open like a fish. “Are you… are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Profit margins are excellent in the luxury end of the fashion industry. Wedding dresses, women’s fashion – whatever you’d like to do. With your talent and us backing you, I think it could be huge.”

“I… I…”

“You can take some time to think about it,” he said gently.

He was probably under the impression that my being tongue-tied was hesitance when it was actually just disbelief.

“No, I mean – yes – yes, I’d love to!”

“Good. We’ll talk more when you get back from your honeymoon.”

“This is – thank you!” I cried out as I hugged him. “This is the best wedding gift you could have ever given me!”

He laughed and patted my back. “It’s not a gift, Bianca – it’s a partnership. You deserve it. If it works out the way I hope, we’ll be extremely lucky to have gotten in with you on the ground floor.”

And with that, Roberto won me over as my favorite brother-in-law… even over some extremely tough competition.

101

The other Rosolini brothers all came up shortly thereafter and welcomed me into the family with a private toast.

Adriano stood with his arm around my waist, and Dario held Alessandra close by his side.

“To our new sister, Bianca,” Dario said as he raised his glass.

“Welcome to the family!” Valentino shouted.

“May those of us still single find a woman as amazing as you,” Roberto said.

Lars grinned. “And we thank you from the bottom of our hearts for vastly improving Adriano’s personality.”

“And for turning him from an asshole into a real boy,” Massimo said, invoking Pinocchio.

I doubled over with laughter.

“Hey – I made you a groomsman!” Adriano yelled at Massimo in mock indignation.

“Yeah, but she saved my life. I owe her the truth.”

“Asshole,” Adriano said, smiling.

“Dick,” Massimo said back with a huge grin.

Then Adriano turned to me and winked. “I have to admit, though, she did make me a lot more tolerable.”

I laughed –

We kissed –

And all the brothers cheered.

“Where’s Niccolo?” Roberto said, looking around. “He should be in on this.”

“He’s over there. With a woman,” Alessandra said with a sly grin.

Niccolo was about 40 feet away, talking to a very pretty but very serious-looking woman wearing glasses. He seemed engrossed in their conversation.

“He’s working on the next wedding,” Roberto joked.

“Better get crackin’, man,” Valentino said. “You two are the oldest after Adriano, and you were born 19 minutes before Nic – so you’re next in line!”

Roberto smiled. “I’ll get there.”

Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder from behind.

I turned to find myself staring at a man in his 50s with a pointed black beard and a roguish smile.

“Congratulations, my dear,” he said. “Your dress is lovely – almost as lovely as you.”

“Thank you,” I said, not having any idea who he was –

Although that was quickly cleared up.

“Congratulations, Adriano,” the man said as he gave my husband a hug.

“Thank you, Uncle Fausto,” Adriano said.

Uncle Fausto.

I’d heard quite a bit about him, actually.

“Good to see you all alive and well after all that mess with whatsisname,” Fausto said. “Mezza-whatever.”

“It’s only thanks to Bianca that it turned out so well,” Adriano said.

“Really,” Fausto said, giving me an appraising look. “Well – for saving my nephews, I thank you doubly.”

As Fausto went down the line of brothers, hugging them and exchanging laughs, someone else walked up –

A man in his 20s who looked like a younger version of Fausto, but clean-shaven and thinner.

My entire body froze.

“Congratulations, Adriano,” the man said.

“Thanks,” Adriano said, and I couldn’t help but notice the coolness in his voice. “I see you cut your hair short.”

“It was time for a change,” the man replied. Then he turned to me. “Congratulations.”

I could only nod, a fake smile plastered on my face.

He looked at me quizzically, though I didn’t see any hint of recognition in his eyes.

“Where’s your date?” Adriano asked.

Thankfully the man turned away from me.

“Over there talking to Niccolo,” he said in disgust.

“Better be careful,” Massimo said. “Looks like he might steal her away.”

I was getting the feeling that none of the brothers liked this guy very much.

“Aurora’s just my date to the wedding,” the man sneered. “If he can get her, he’s welcome to her.”

“You’re a chivalrous motherfucker, aren’t you?” Valentino joked.

“You’re the last one who should be lecturing about chivalry,” the man said. “Where’s your date – back in the kitchen, doing her job? Maybe she won’t catch you trying to bang the other women at the reception.”

I didn’t entirely understand the jab, but Valentino looked like he was about to start throwing punches.

Massimo put a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder and whispered something in his ear. Whatever he said, it seemed to calm Valentino down.

“Let’s go get a drink,” Lars said diplomatically as he put his arm around the rude man’s shoulders. He was evidently trying to steer him away from everyone else.

“No time for that – we have to be going,” Fausto interrupted. “But it was good seeing all of you. Congratulations to the new bride and groom!”

After a few half-hearted goodbyes from the brothers, Fausto and the younger man walked off.

Fausto called out, “Aurora!”

The young woman talking to Niccolo shook hands with him, then followed Fausto and the other man.

“Fuckin’ asshole,” Adriano muttered as they left.

I pulled Adriano away from the others.

“Who was that?” I whispered frantically. “The younger guy?”

“My cousin, Aurelio. He’s a real pain in the – ”

Adriano trailed off as he looked at my face.

“Jesus, Bianca, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?”

“That man was the one I saw at the modeling agency.”

Adriano’s eyes grew wide. “You mean – ”

“The one with the cruel eyes.”

The mystery man I’d seen right before the hotel…

When Mezzasalma’s assassins tried to gun us down.

If you enjoyed ADRIANO, would you please leave a rating for the book? It would help me out more than you know! Thank you so much!

MAFIA KINGS: MASSIMO coming soon!

Free Epilogue -

Read what happens next to Adriano and Bianca!

(If you already signed up when you read DARIO, don’t worry - you’ll get the epilogue emailed to you. No need to sign up again.)

I hope you enjoyed MAFIA KINGS: ADRIANO. I have a very special and exclusive free offer for you! Every book in the series will have an epilogue you can only get if you join my mailing list.

You’ll be the first to know when each new book in the series is available – plus every book, you’ll get a new epilogue that you can’t get anywhere else. The one for ADRIANO is about what happens as soon as this book ends, and follows Adriano and Bianca into their honeymoon.

Click here to read it,

or go to www.oliviathorn.com!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Check out my website to get on my mailing list and receive the Epilogue to MAFIA KINGS: DARIO!

www.oliviathorn.com

You can find me on Facebook at…

https://www.facebook.com/oliviathornbooks

And feel free to drop me a line at

olivia@oliviathorn.com

ALSO BY OLIVIA THORN

Mafia Kings: Dario

Mafia Kings: Adriano

Mafia Kings: Massimo (coming soon)

***

AS OLIVIA THORNE

Billionaire Romance

All That He Wants (Volume 1)

All That He Loves (Volume 2)

The Billionaire’s Wedding (Volume 3)

***

The Billionaire’s Kiss (Parts 1-4)

The Billionaire’s Obsession (Part 5)

***

Motorcycle Romance

Midnight Desire (Part 1)

Midnight Lust (Part 2)

Midnight Deceit (Part 3)

Midnight Obsession (Part 4)

Rockstar Romance

(Careful - cheating in Part 3, Why Choose, HFN ending)

Rock Me Hard (Part 1)

Rock All Night (Part 2)

Hard As Rock (Part 3)