MAFIA KINGS: MASSIMO

DARK MAFIA ROMANCE SERIES #3

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

Chapter 102

Chapter 103

Chapter 104

Chapter 105

Chapter 106

Chapter 107

Chapter 108

Chapter 109

Chapter 110

Chapter 111

About the Author

Also By Olivia Thorn

ALSO BY OLIVIA THORN

Mafia Kings: Dario

Mafia Kings: Adriano

Mafia Kings: Massimo

Mafia Kings: Lars (Pre-order now)

***

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

Lucia

I grew up in a mafia family.

The Fiorettis have ruled Venice for generations. Every smuggled kilo of cocaine… every shipping container that went ‘mysteriously’ missing from the docks… every euro paid in extortion…

My family got a cut.

Venice itself has always been wealthy. Back in the Middle Ages, it was one of the richest cities in the entire world.

Over the years, things got a lot worse for Venice – but not for my family. At least not as far as money was concerned.

I was born into the lap of luxury. Armani, Fendi, Balenciaga, Versace, Dolce and Gabbana, Ferrari… those were names I grew up around from the time I learned to talk.

You see, I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth.

It was solid gold and studded with diamonds.

But there was a price.

There’s always a price.

2

Massimo

I grew up in a mafia family.

My grandfather came over from Sicily half a century ago to stake his claim in the countryside outside Florence, Italy. He established a small kingdom within the Cosa Nostra. After my grandfather’s death, my father turned that kingdom into an empire.

I was the fifth of six brothers, so I knew I would never head up the family. That honor belonged to my oldest brother Dario, who deserved it. He was a born leader – and he sacrificed the most out of all of us. He took the fall for the family on a corruption charge and went to prison for four long years.

When our father died – murdered, we later found out – Dario was the one we all voted to lead us.

So I knew from an early age that I would never be at the top…

But I always knew I would be of service.

I was trained from the time I could walk to be a fighter for the family.

Though the second youngest, I was by far the biggest of my brothers – 6’7” and 270 pounds. Papa used to joke that a strain of giant blood must run in our family.

But I didn’t want to fight.

I wanted peace…

But that’s in short supply when you grow up in the Cosa Nostra.

At only 26, I had seen assassinations… car bombings… over two dozen gunfights…

And yet, I hadn’t experienced anything like the insanity of the last couple of months.

A raid on our home by a gangster named the Turk…

Dario almost killed by an old woman seeking revenge…

A Sicilian gangster who wiped out a rival family and tried to kill us, as well…

And now the betrayal of our family by our own flesh and blood.

We found out when my brother Adriano married Bianca, my new sister-in-law.

A month before, a rival family in Florence – the Agrellas – had conspired against us.

Bianca had seen a stranger talking to one of the Agrellas just hours before the bastards sprang their trap.

Assassins showed up at a hotel to kill Adriano, Bianca, Lars, and me.

We escaped by the skin of our teeth…

But we never discovered who the mysterious stranger was that Bianca had seen.

That is, until he congratulated her at the wedding reception.

It was our cousin Aurelio –

The son of our uncle Fausto, who had been our father’s consigliere for 25 years.

Our world was turned upside-down in an instant.

3

As soon as we found out about Aurelio, all of us huddled in the study of our family estate.

Dario and his wife Alessandra…

His consigliere Niccolo…

Adriano and Bianca…

Niccolo’s twin, Roberto…

My youngest brother, Valentino…

And Dario’s best friend and the enforcer for our family, Lars.

Outside the house, our guests were still celebrating the new marriage.

Inside, though, we were preparing for war.

“Are you sure Aurelio was the same man you saw with Bautiste Agrella?” Niccolo asked.

“I’m positive.” Bianca shuddered. “I could never forget his eyes.”

Niccolo looked at Dario. Both of them were stunned into silence.

“Shouldn’t we ask him what he was doing there with Bautiste?” Valentino said. “Maybe it was a coincidence.”

“Aurelio was there three hours before assassins burst in and tried to kill Bianca, Adriano, Lars, and Massimo – and five hours before those same assassins killed the entire Agrella family.” Niccolo snorted. “That’s one hell of a coincidence.”

“Are you absolutely certain Aurelio didn’t recognize you?” Adriano asked his new bride.

“I’m sure,” Bianca said. “I didn’t even see a flicker on his face. He’d have to be the best actor in the world not to have reacted at all.”

“But what if he knew beforehand, and seeing you wasn’t a surprise?” Niccolo asked, playing devil’s advocate.

Roberto shook his head. “Why in the world would he come to the wedding, then? If Aurelio knew ahead of time who Bianca was… and if he thought there was any chance she could identify him… he would have just stayed away.”

“There are a lot of ifs in that sentence,” Niccolo said drily.

“Yes, but if he thought that his presence could give away the game, it would be the height of recklessness to show up here. He could’ve said he got Covid and nobody would have batted an eye.”

“He didn’t see me in Florence that night,” Bianca insisted. “I only got a brief glance at him, so it wasn’t like he had a lot of time. And there was a woman standing between us – and he was looking at the other man in the room with him the entire time – ”

“You say that you only got a glance,” Niccolo interrupted, “but you’re one hundred percent SURE it was Aurelio?”

“Absolutely!”

“She’s already said ‘yes’ a dozen times,” Adriano barked. “Stop asking her.”

Niccolo put up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m sorry, Bianca. I don’t meant to badger you. I only ask because – if Aurelio actually did conspire with Mezzasalma – that means our own flesh and blood tried to kill us. And it’s likely that our uncle told him to do it.”

I looked at Niccolo in alarm. “You think Fausto is behind this?!”

“Aurelio’s not smart enough to pull this off. If anyone planned it all out, it was Fausto.

“Think about it:

“Fausto was Papa’s consigliere for 25 years. He lived in this very house and knew all its secrets – including the location of the escape tunnel out the back.

“And what about the old Sicilian servant woman, Filomena? I can’t prove it – I’ve gone back through the records and can’t find anything concrete – but Fausto could have easily hired her.”

Niccolo ticked off fingers on his hand. “Especially since she confessed to poisoning Papa…

“She told Alessandra about the tunnel…

“And she tried to shoot Dario the night the Turk broke in.

“As far as the Turk goes, Fausto was the one who set up the business meeting with him. If you’ll recall, Fausto later admitted that he and the Turk were already doing business together. It was probably Fausto who got the Turk to come after us in the first place – or at least promised him a cut of the profits if he took us out.

“Then you have Mezzasalma and the attempted hit on four of you at the hotel.

“Bianca saw Aurelio in Bautiste Agrella’s office just a few hours before it all went down. Aurelio was probably acting as a messenger for Fausto. He might have even set up the Agrellas – lulled them into a false sense of security – so Mezzasalma could come in and wipe them out.”

“But what if it was all just a coincidence?” Valentino asked. “What if Aurelio escaped being killed by Mezzasalma?”

“The Agrellas were our allies – or rather, our supposed allies,” Niccolo said tartly. “We were the ones who split Florence with them. We were the ones they betrayed by bribing politicians and policemen behind our backs. If Fausto or Aurelio had any contact with the Agrellas, they should have let us know. And they didn’t. Not to mention that if Aurelio had barely escaped being killed, don’t you think he would have mentioned it at the wedding? ‘Wow, guys, you’ll never believe what happened to me…’”

“So you think Fausto was behind the Agrellas trying to take back Florence from us?” Adriano asked.

“It makes sense.”

“But… that would mean Fausto’s the one who’s trying to turn the Five Families against us.”

Niccolo smiled bitterly. “Which makes even more sense.”

Part of Mezzasalma’s plan had been to turn the Cosa Nostra families of Rome, Venice, Sicily, Naples, and Milan against us.

After we got blamed for the Agrellas’ deaths, the Five Families had refused all contact with us –

And in a gigantic breach of centuries-old etiquette, they hadn’t sent any representatives to Adriano’s wedding.

It felt like the winds of war were blowing all around us, and now we knew why: our uncle had been conspiring against us all along.

“Should we confront Fausto and Aurelio?” I asked.

Niccolo laughed bitterly. “Why – so they can deny it? All they’ll say is, ‘No, that’s absurd, it’s all a big misunderstanding!’ And if we tell them what we know, we give away our one advantage: the fact that we’ve figured it out, and they don’t realize it yet.”

“Perhaps we should call a meeting of the Council,” Dario suggested.

The Council was the name given to meetings of representatives from all the families of the Cosa Nostra.

Such meetings were usually only called to smooth over disputes…

Or to try to end a war between families.

“The only problem with that is we have no proof,” Niccolo said. “There’s absolutely nothing connecting our uncle to this entire mess except for Bianca’s one brief glimpse of Aurelio. I personally believe Fausto’s fingerprints are all over this… but none of what I’ve said would stand up to scrutiny if we had to take it in front of the Council. Even worse, if the Council decides against us, then Fausto gets off scot-free. He can bide his time and figure out another way to destroy us – and we can’t do anything about it without incurring the wrath of every single family in the Cosa Nostra.”

A shadow passed over Bianca’s face. “When Mezzasalma was driving me out of Florence, he said that we were going to see friends of his in the Tuscan countryside. Does that mean anything?”

Niccolo sighed like he’d just heard awful news. “Fausto has an estate in Tuscany about 45 minutes from here. The spot where you flipped the car? That road is a straight shot to his house.”

The entire room descended into depressed silence –

Until Adriano broke it.

“We should move against Fausto tonight,” he snarled.

Niccolo shook his head. “And how is that going to look to the Council? ‘We knew we had no proof, but we decided to kill our uncle and cousin anyways because we suspected them.’”

“Aurelio was with the Agrellas – we know that! And the road led to Fausto’s estate – you just said so yourself!”

“A glimpse through a doorway and driving along a country road are not proof,” Niccolo snapped. “It’s circumstantial evidence at best, and flimsy at that. Certainly not sufficient for us to put out a hit on our own family.

“If we did, the Council would say we’re savages. We would become pariahs. Every single family in the Cosa Nostra would band against us to wipe us out.

“That’s why Fausto is doing all this from the shadows. Don’t you see? He can’t have everyone realize he’s the kind of monster who would kill his own family just for money and power. It would disgust and infuriate the Council – it would be an infamia. At best, Fausto would be ostracized and cut off completely. At worst, it would bring down the Cosa Nostra’s collective wrath on his head.

“No, he had to do it all through puppets like the Turk and Mezzasalma so he could cover his tracks. And he’s been very, very clever at doing so.” Niccolo paused and got a thoughtful look on his face. “Like a chess grandmaster, planning it all out beforehand… an unseen hand manipulating the pieces on the board…”

“Then what are we supposed to do?” I asked in frustration. “Just sit back and take it? Wait for Fausto to try to kill us again?”

“No,” Niccolo said. “No, we need to secure allies. We have to go to the Five Families and present our case. If we win them to our side, then nothing Fausto can do will matter. And if he tries anything again, the Five Families will help us instead of shutting us out.”

“But they won’t talk to us,” Roberto pointed out. “None of the families’ consiglieres will even return your phone calls.”

Dario spoke up. “Which is why we need to go them in person.”

Except for Niccolo, who nodded in approval, the entire room stared at Dario in shock.

Adriano was the first to speak. “You want us to go to our most powerful rivals, all of whom want to kill us… and try to persuade them not to?”

“Not you,” Dario replied. “You just got married, and you still have broken ribs that need mending.”

“Plus, we need you to secure Florence,” Niccolo said. “We’ve calmed down most of the police and politicians – we’ve shown them we’re reasserting control after the disaster with Mezzasalma and the Agrellas – but we have to make sure that we keep the peace from here on out. Any more chaos and the city could slip out of our control. You’re capo of Florence, so that’s what you need to concentrate on in the coming weeks.”

I glanced over at Adriano. “Not to mention that you’re not exactly the most diplomatic guy in the family.”

“Fuck you,” Adriano shot back.

I grinned. “See?”

He realized he’d proven my point and shook his head in exasperation.

“If we’re sending ambassadors, then who’s going where?” Roberto asked.

“Sicily’s the thorniest situation,” Dario replied. “The old servant woman who killed Papa and tried to shoot me came from there. And Mezzasalma was from the south of Sicily. We definitely have a Sicilian problem.”

“Never start a land war in Asia, and never cross a Sicilian in matters of death,” Valentino said.

Dario frowned. “What’s that from? It sounds familiar.”

“The Princess Bride. It’s a movie.”

“Damn good advice.”

“So we go after the biggest problem first?” I asked.

“No – we should go after the easiest one first,” Niccolo said. “And the biggest fish to boot. The family with the most money – and the one that stands to lose the most financially if everyone goes to war.”

“Venice,” Dario said.

“Exactly. And whoever goes there should leave as soon as possible.”

“Who do we send?” I asked.

“I’ll go,” Roberto suggested. “I speak their language – money.”

“Mm,” Niccolo said hesitantly. “No, the Venetians like their money… but it’s not Signora Fioretti’s biggest priority. I might agree with you if it were anyone else – but she’s a different beast altogether.”

Adriano shook his head. “She’s an old bitch, is what she is.”

I smirked. “There you go again, proving why you shouldn’t go to Venice.”

“FUCK you,” Adriano snapped.

“The Widow’s lost almost everyone in her family,” I pointed out. “Her husband, her son, her daughter-in-law – and she’s still kept an iron grip on her territory for the last 20 years. She’s not a bitch, she’s a formidable woman – and a hell of a mafiosa. She deserves our respect.”

“Well said, Massimo,” Alessandra chimed in approvingly.

“Yeah,” Bianca said as she gave Adriano some serious side-eye.

“Thanks, Massimo,” Adriano grumbled. “Turning my own bride against me.”

I snorted. “I think you did that all by yourself.”

Niccolo smiled at me. “And I think we’ve found our ambassador to Venice.”

My eyes bugged out as I realized what he meant.

“Who – me? No – no, no, no, no – ”

“The man with the muscle and the empathy?” Niccolo said. “Perfect choice.”

“I concur,” Dario said.

“You can leave tomorrow morning on the private jet. Get into Venice around noon, see her around 2, and be back in time for dinner.” Niccolo gave me a sly smile. “Unless you’re invited to stay, that is.”

Adriano laughed and slapped me on the shoulder. “Have fun with the Widow, stronzo.”

Shit.

I should learn when to keep my mouth shut.

4

And that was how I found myself standing before la Vedova – the Widow.

The most powerful woman in all of Italy.

She was in her late 60s, with a thin face and grey hair pulled back in a severe bun.

As befitted her nickname, she wore all black. Her dress was old-fashioned, with a hem down around her ankles, long sleeves, and a black lace collar that covered her neck.

She was thin and frail, about 5’ 4” – but if her body was feeble, her spirit was anything but.

La Vedova had never been a great beauty, not even when she was young. But beauty and traditional femininity had never been the source of her power. Rather, it was her commanding aura and iron will that made her one of the most feared leaders in the Cosa Nostra. I had met hardened hitmen who spoke in fearful whispers about la Vedova.

We were in a room inside a palazzo – or palace – built during the Renaissance. Palazzos were more common than you’d think; Venice had nearly a hundred. Over a dozen had been turned into hotels, and many more housed universities or government offices.

The Fioretti family’s palazzo was one of the most impressive in the city. It was decorated in the old style – as in the 1600s. There were golden curtains on the windows, marble busts set into alcoves in the walls, and furniture that looked like it might have been stolen from Versailles when the Sun King was still around. The molding along the 30-foot-tall ceiling was baroque and full of curlicues, and the ceiling was painted with murals that rivaled the Sistine Chapel.

Everything reeked of power, money, and aristocracy.

The Widow sat on what could only be described as a throne, which was on a raised platform at the far end of the room. She was surrounded by men in black suits, including her consigliere – a rail-thin, middle-aged man who hovered at her side and occasionally whispered in her ear.

It was all very intimidating.

That was the desired effect.

I tried not to show my nervousness as she sized me up.

“So. You are the brother of Dario Rosolini, the new don of Tuscany,” she said haughtily.

“Yes, Signora.”

“What order of birth are you?”

The phrasing was odd, so I didn’t quite understand the question.

“…ma’am?”

“Order of birth – birth order. Are you the second oldest? The third?” she snapped impatiently.

“The fifth of six brothers.”

She gave me a withering look. “So I don’t even rate a visit from the next in line to the throne.”

I tried to remember that I was here to be a diplomat – and as such, I needed to keep my temper.

Thank God they hadn’t sent Adriano.

“I was judged the most suitable out of those available, Signora,” I explained. “Adriano, my second-oldest brother, is still recovering from injuries he sustained when – ”

“Ah, yes, the recent unpleasantness in Florence,” she interrupted. “Has your family finally put a lid on that pot? Made sure it won’t boil over into other people’s territories?”

She put a great deal of stress on other people’s territories.

“Yes, Signora.”

Her lip curled slightly in disdain. “Somehow I doubt that. What brings you to Venice, Signor Rosolini?”

“We wish to reestablish communications after the upheaval in Florence.”

“I wasn’t aware – were communications severed?” She managed to sound both slightly concerned and entirely dismissive at the same time.

I glanced at the rail-thin man standing next to her throne. “Your consigliere never returned my brother Niccolo’s calls.”

“My consigliere is quite busy, Signor.” She said it like it was an obvious point, and I was stupid if I didn’t realize it.

“I’m sure, my lady. But we feared it might have something to do with… the appearance of the situation.”

A hint of a smirk appeared on her face. “And what appearance would that be?”

“A Sicilian named Mezzasalma killed the entire Agrella family and tried to make it look like our doing.”

Her consigliere leaned in and whispered in the Widow’s ear.

Once he was finished, she asked me, “Are you saying you didn’t kill your business partners of 20 years?”

“No, ma’am, we did not.”

“It would be understandable,” she said with false sympathy. “Your brother, a recently crowned don… a brand-new regime coming in, eager to expand your territory, even at the expense of old alliances… by the way, my condolences on your father’s death.”

She sounded genuine when she mentioned my father.

I bowed slightly. “Thank you, Signora. But we did not betray the Agrellas. Rather, they betrayed us by working with Mezzasalma… who then turned on them and killed them all.”

“Mm-hmm. And this Sicilian… is he alive?”

“No.”

“And neither are the Agrellas. Pity that all the witnesses are dead, isn’t it?” she asked sardonically.

I struggled not to sound like I was agreeing with her, yet also acknowledge that it wasn’t the best look for our family.

“It’s… inconvenient, Signora.”

She burst out with a single laugh. “‘Inconvenient’! Yes, it is. So how can you prove that you didn’t betray the Agrellas?”

“It’s impossible to prove a negative, Signora. But – ”

“That’s very slippery of you, sir,” the Widow interjected. Then she smiled the tiniest bit. “You sound like my granddaughter.”

I’d heard of Lucia Fioretti.

None of it was good, other than she was very pretty.

But I had to play the diplomat.

“I’m sure she’s a charming young lady,” I said.

The Widow snorted.

“She’s a brat. Spoiled rotten and thinks she knows everything. But she is my granddaughter.” The Widow lifted her chin and peered down at me from beneath her eyelids. “So what are you hoping to achieve in this meeting, Signor Rosolini?”

“As I said, to reestablish contact between our families.”

“So you can get close enough to slip a stiletto in my back, perhaps?” she purred.

I gave her an alarmed look. “We would never do that, Signora – I assure you.”

“I did not attain my standing in the Cosa Nostra by taking mafiosos’ assurances at face value,” she said tartly. “If all you came here to do was say ‘hello,’ then consider contact reestablished. Otherwise – ”

Things were not going the way I’d hoped.

Time to bring out the big guns.

“Ma’am,” I said, interrupting her as gently as possible, “could we speak in private?”

“So you can slip a stiletto in my front, Signor? I think not.”

I glanced at her consigliere and all the men surrounding her on the dais. I didn’t trust a single one of them with what I was about to say. “I have a piece of delicate information – ”

“Delicate or indelicate, I trust my men with my life. Anything you can say in front of me, you can say in front of them.”

Great.

I weighed what I was about to do.

I wondered if Niccolo and Dario would approve…

Screw it.

I didn’t see what other choice I had.

“We have reason to believe that my uncle – ”

“Fausto,” she interrupted me with a huge smile – like they were old friends. “How is he these days?”

“Treacherous, ma’am,” I said darkly.

“Oh?” she asked in mild surprise.

“We believe it was him who – ”

“Believe it was he,” she interrupted.

I frowned at her, not quite understanding.

“…what?”

“It is not ‘we believe it was him,’” she said snootily. “It is ‘we believe it was he.’”

I couldn’t believe it.

Here I was, about to tell her that my uncle was a traitor and a viper –

And she was acting like an old schoolmarm.

The Widow continued her lecture. “Precision in speech is a virtue, Signor Rosolini. Pay attention to your grammar, or risk not being taken seriously.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, Signora,” I replied darkly.

I couldn’t help myself.

At least it was only about 1% as bad as what Adriano would have said.

The Widow raised her nose even higher in the air as she glared down at me.

“You do so remind me of my granddaughter. She’s sarcastic, too.” Then the Widow relented. “So… what, exactly, do you believe your uncle has done?”

“Fausto conspired with a Sicilian named Mezzasalma to murder the Agrella family… and then they tried to pin it on me and my brothers.”

From the look on the Widow’s face, this time I’d actually shocked her.

Before she could say anything, her consigliere leaned over and whispered something in her ear – and covered his lips with his hand.

When she’d regained her composure, the Widow said, “That’s quite an accusation, Signor Rosolini.”

“It gets worse. We also believe Fausto was responsible for the death of our father.”

She stared at me in disbelief. “His own brother.”

“Yes.”

“He was your father’s consigliere for – what was it – 20 years?”

“Twenty-five, ma’am.”

“And you think he’s a modern-day Claudius?”

I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

“…a what, ma’am?”

“Not a what, a who. Claudius, the uncle of Hamlet – the play by Shakespeare? Claudius killed his brother the king and stole his throne. You really should brush up on the classics, Signor Rosolini.”

The schoolmarm bit was getting old.

“Maybe after we stop this particular pot from boiling over, Signora.”

The Widow narrowed her eyes. “Was that sarcasm again, Signor Rosolini?”

“…a little,” I admitted.

She stared at me for a second longer, then gave a brief snort.

“At least you’re honest. I’d love to introduce you to my granddaughter – I think you’d hit it off fabulously. IF she didn’t try to cut your balls off.” The Widow smirked the tiniest bit. “She is my granddaughter, after all. However, I find it incredibly difficult to believe that Fausto would do such a thing. What proof do you have?”

One of the men behind the Widow’s throne – a guy with salt-and-pepper hair – reacted to something in his suit jacket. He pulled out his phone like he was getting a text or call on vibrate. He quietly descended the rear of the dais and left via a door in the back of the room.

I didn’t think anything of it –

At the time.

“My new sister-in-law saw my cousin Aurelio with the Agrellas a few hours before the massacre.”

The Widow raised a single eyebrow. “And?”

From her reaction, I realized Niccolo had been right: our evidence was flimsy at best.

“She said that when Mezzasalma kidnapped her, he suggested they would be visiting Fausto’s estate.”

“This sister-in-law sounds like a busy woman,” the Widow said drily. “Did Mezzasalma mention Fausto by name?”

“…no, ma’am,” I conceded.

“So you saw your cousin at a meeting – ”

“My sister-in-law,” I interrupted.

Both the Widow’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“My sister-in-law saw Aurelio, not me.”

“And you thought it necessary to interrupt me to clarify that point?” she asked haughtily.

I couldn’t help myself. “Precision in speech is a virtue, ma’am,” I said, stone-faced. Just to be safe, I added, “A very wise woman told me that once.”

The Widow looked down at me for several seconds with heavily lidded eyes.

“You’re treading a very thin line, Signor,” she finally said.

I was worried I’d let my irritation get the best of me. “My apologies.”

“Don’t apologize,” she said with slight amusement. “Like my granddaughter, you may be insolent, but at least you’re entertaining. What exactly is it that you expect me to do, Signor Rosolini? Declare war on your uncle on your behalf?”

“No, ma’am. We only ask that you keep in mind what I’ve told you, if and when he comes to you – ”

“Or sends his fifth-in-line instead?” she asked, smiling slightly at her little jab.

I clenched my jaw and forced a smile. “Aurelio is his only child, so I guess you’ll be getting a visit from him.”

“Oh, the heir apparent. Wonderful,” she said sarcastically, then switched to a regal tone. “I promise to keep in mind what you’ve said, Signor Rosolini. And as far as our two families are concerned, yours and mine – consider communication reestablished from this point forward.”

As the Widow said the last part, she glanced sternly at her consigliere, who lowered his eyes to the floor, chastened. Mommy had just spanked him in front of God and everybody.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I said with sincere gratitude.

Given the start of the meeting, things had gone better than I thought they would.

The Widow sat up straight on her throne. “Now, unless there’s anything else – ”

Before she could finish her sentence, all hell broke loose.

5

The door in the rear of the room – the one the salt-and-pepper guy had disappeared through a few minutes ago – opened about a foot.

I couldn’t see anything in the shadows on the other side –

But something flew out of the crack, tumbled in an arc through the air, and clanged onto the dais to the left of the Widow’s throne.

My heart froze when I saw it.

At first I thought it was a grenade –

But when the black cylinder rolled across the raised platform, I realized what it really was:

A flashbang, also known as a stun grenade.

Lars had been in the Swedish military’s Special Forces before he went to prison. When he came to work for our family, he’d spent months drilling us out on the grounds of our family estate. Hand-to-hand combat, how to efficiently search and clear a building, and much more.

One of the things he’d shown us were flashbangs.

They’re basically small explosives that aren’t meant to hurl shrapnel or destroy anything, but to temporarily blind and deafen.

Law enforcement and the military use them to disorient targets in advance of an attack –

Which is how I knew what was coming.

The Widow’s bodyguards looked down when the cylinder hit the dais.

At first they were unsure of what the hell it was – but they weren’t alarmed. After all, we were standing inside one of the most heavily guarded rooms in all of Venice. Nothing could get in here without going through multiple layers of security.

The suits didn’t panic until they registered the object’s cylindrical shape.

Flashbangs and grenades look enough alike that they often get confused with each other.

That’s when the suits panicked –

But by then, it was too late.

I only had a split second to react – I had no idea when it would detonate –

So I screwed my eyes shut, clapped my palms over my ears, and turned away.

BOOM!

I could still hear the thunderous explosion through my hands.

When I turned around, smoke was drifting through the air.

The Widow was holding her ears, her eyes closed in pain.

The men around her were fumbling for their guns. Because of the explosion, their vision was fuzzy and their ears were ringing –

Which is why none of them saw or heard the four black-clad figures rushing through the door at the rear of the room.

All four of them had body armor and helmets –

All wore balaclavas covering their faces –

And all of them carried assault rifles.

I reacted without thinking – which meant that Lars had trained me well.

I sprinted for the dais, keeping the men in suits between me and the intruders.

If I had run in the opposite direction, I would have been the only target in an otherwise empty space. Better to have at least some cover – even if it was the Widow’s henchmen. When the intruders started shooting, I would have multiple bodies between me and their bullets.

And the intruders immediately started shooting.

BRATTATTATTATATTATAT!

As bullets slammed into them, the men in suits started flailing around like marionettes with bad puppeteers.

The rail-thin consigliere’s head jerked as a puff of red mist exploded out the back of his skull.

When I’d first entered the palazzo for my meeting with the Widow, I had known I would be searched – so I’d given up my Glock voluntarily. Her guards kept the pistol and frisked me anyway.

So I was completely defenseless and without a weapon –

Which meant my first priority was to get a gun.

The nearest suit had his pistol out when he got shot three times in the back.

As he screamed and convulsed, I grabbed his gun with one hand and seized him around the waist with my other arm before he could fall.

Not because I was trying to help him. He was a goner.

No – I needed a shield to help me get to the Widow.

I held up the suit’s limp body in front of me as I fired the gun under his armpit.

BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM!

I was aiming for the eyeholes of the attackers’ masks – and I got lucky.

One of the bastards immediately went down.

By this point, the mafia goons were dropping all around me like flies –

But I made it to the Widow.

She was crouched down in her throne, a frail little figure with her hands clasped over her head.

I realized that no one had tried to shoot her, though. Her wooden throne was untouched by bullets.

If the intruders had wanted to kill her, they could have just walked ten feet to the left and had a wide-open shot –

Which meant they weren’t trying to kill her.

The Widow was the prize –

Which meant I had to protect her at all costs.

Dumping my human shield of a corpse, I pulled the Widow out of the throne and threw her to the dais floor –

And then roared like a lion as I toppled the throne on its side.

The thing was a relic of the Renaissance, a giant sculpture carved from a single block of wood. It must have weighed at least 700 pounds, but my normal strength was tripled by the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

The throne crashed to the ground with a BOOM –

Then I dove to the floor behind it and slid the Widow over next to me.

Three of the intruders were still standing.

Their assault rifles were still firing –

Until they stopped.

BRATTATTA–

click.

They were out of bullets.

In reality, two of them had probably already run out of bullets and were in the process of reloading. I only heard the momentary silence when the third shooter ran out.

I popped up over the side of the toppled throne and fired just as I’d practiced hundreds of times with Lars.

BANG BANG!

A double-tap to the head put one intruder down –

Then I aimed my gun at the one beside him and caught him mid-reload.

BANG BANG!

A puff of red mist exploded from his balaclava as he went over backwards.

Unfortunately, there was one intruder left –

And I heard the clack-CLACK of him chambering the first round.

I ducked back down as he opened fire.

BRATTA-TAT!

BRATTA-TAT!

BRATTA-TAT!

He was firing in bursts of three, not full automatic.

Unfortunately, all he had to do was walk around the throne and he would have me dead to rights –

So I took a gamble.

Not much of a gamble, really, when the alternative is certain death.

I crawled on my belly around the top of the overturned throne.

I was expecting the gunman to come around the other side – the bottom of the throne.

If he really was here to kidnap the Widow, he would hold his fire when he saw her –

Which is exactly what he did.

I was already on the other side of the throne when I heard the shooting pause.

That’s when I popped up like a jack-in-the-box and shot him through the left eye.

BANG!

He collapsed to the ground.

In the silence that followed, I checked to make sure the other intruders were actually down for the count.

When I saw one of them twitching, I put another bullet in his head for good measure.

BANG!

Six shots fired from my gun. I had no idea how many bullets had been in the magazine before I started, so I grabbed another pistol off the floor from one of the fallen suits.

Then I hurried around the side of the throne to check on the Widow.

She was peering with wide eyes at the carnage all around her.

She looked tiny and frail – like a doll in a Victorian funeral dress.

“Are you alright?” I asked her.

She glanced up at me and nodded once.

I was surprised to see no fear in her eyes.

Over the years, I’d witnessed several people staring death in the face – often because I was pointing a gun at them. The vast majority had been terrified.

Not the Widow. She just seemed to be on heightened alert – nothing more.

“Thank you, Signor Rosolini,” she said in a croaking voice.

“You’re welcome,” I said –

Just as half a dozen more men in suits rushed into the room, pistols at the ready.

I immediately dove to the ground beside the Widow.

I was afraid her men would shoot first and ask questions later.

“COME OUT NOW!” one of them yelled.

I was about to shout, Don’t shoot, I’m on your side –

When the Widow beat me to it.

“STOP, you fools!” she roared in a voice that didn’t match her frail body. “He saved my life!”

Footsteps clattered across the dais –

And I looked up to see a half-dozen guns pointed at my head.

One of the men knelt down, scooped up the Widow, and set her on her feet.

I stayed where I was and gently slid the gun across the floor.

“Put your guns away!” she snarled. “You idiots couldn’t do your job when it mattered, so stop pretending to do it now!”

Embarrassed, the men put their guns away. I finally stood up.

“What happened?” one of the suits asked.

“What do you think happened?!” the Widow shouted as she gestured at the four dead intruders. “Someone smuggled in assassins!”

“Signora Fioretti,” I said, “I saw someone leave the room while you and I were talking – a man with salt-and-pepper hair. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but – ”

“Giotto,” she hissed, then scowled at her men. “Go find him, now!”

Half of the men raced out of the room as fast as they could.

I bent down to pick up the gun I’d left on the floor –

“Unh-unh,” one of the suits warned, his hand on his holster.

“Let him have it,” the Widow snapped. “He’s the only man here who knows how to use one.”

“But ma’am,” the suit said as he looked at me sideways, “he might be involved in – ”

“If his aim were to kill me,” she snarled, “it’s rather odd that Signor Rosolini just saved my life, wouldn’t you agree?”

Though she was small, the Widow was vicious. It was like watching a cobra made out of black lace rear up and flare its hood.

The henchman didn’t say anything else as I picked up the gun.

The Widow stared down at her dead consigliere. The rail-thin man was sprawled out on the floor, a shocked look on his face as a puddle of crimson slowly oozed out from his head.

“Silvio was my consigliere for 17 years,” she said. “Where will I find another as cunning as him?”

It struck me that her attitude seemed more like exasperation than grief.

I walked over to the nearest intruder and unclipped his helmet’s chin strap.

“What are you doing?” the Widow asked as I pulled the helmet off, followed by his balaclava.

“This man isn’t Italian,” I said. “He looks Russian.”

“…Russian?!”

She and her bodyguards watched as I removed the helmets and ski masks on the other three intruders.

“This one’s Slavic as well… this one, too. Maybe Eastern European.”

“You think the Russians are behind this?!”

“Mercenaries, more likely,” I said as I pulled out my phone and snapped pictures of the dead men’s faces.

“What are you doing now?” the Widow asked, intensely curious.

“My family’s enforcer has ties to that world,” I replied. “He can probably find out who they are quicker than your men. But regardless of where they came from, I believe my uncle hired them.”

“Fausto,” the old woman growled.

“Yes,” I agreed as I sent the pictures to Lars’s cell phone. I included the text, Just attacked by these assholes. Can you find out who they are.

“I have to admit,” the Widow said bitterly, “I initially thought your claims about your uncle sounded like a conspiracy theory… but I’m beginning to find them more and more compelling.”

I was about to reply when Lars texted me back.

Are you okay????

I typed out my response:

Yes. Not hurt. Widow OK. Pretty sure Fausto sent them.

Several seconds later, I got another text.

Call when you can. I’ll run these guys down in the meantime and let you know.

Seconds after I read the message, Giotto – he of the salt-and-pepper hair – came in through the rear door he’d exited just 10 minutes before. He was escorted on both sides by suits with guns pointed at his kidneys.

“Hopefully he can shed some light on it,” I said.

The Widow gave a sinister smile as she muttered, “We’re about to find out.”

6

Giotto was full of concern for his employer – probably faked.

But he did a good job of staring at the dead bodies on the ground and then looking at the Widow in disbelief.

“Signora, I just heard! This is terrible – terrible! Are you alright?!”

“Oh, you care about that now, do you?” she snarled, then gestured to her men on either side of Giotto. “Hold him there between the two of you.”

Two henchmen grabbed his arms and forced them behind his back.

Giotto shouted in bewilderment, “Signora, why are you doing this?! I have done nothing! I am innocent, I tell you – innocent!”

The Widow ignored his protests. “Who are you working for?”

“YOU, Signora!”

“I wonder,” she muttered.

To tell the truth, I kind of believed him. I was beginning to worry I’d gotten it all wrong.

The Widow held out her hand to one of the bodyguards standing next to her. The man placed his pistol in her palm –

And she aimed it at Giotto.

“Tell me who you’re working for,” she said in a cold voice.

“Signora, I swear – ”

The Widow sighed in annoyance, lowered the gun slightly –

BANG!

Giotto’s right kneecap erupted in a spray of blood.

I jerked back a little in surprise.

Jesus – this old broad isn’t fucking around…

Giotto’s shrieks echoed through the cavernous room.

I couldn’t blame him. I’ve been told by old-timers who experienced it that getting kneecapped is one of the most painful injuries you can suffer.

But the Widow was only getting started.

“I’ll repeat the question one more time,” she said crisply. “The next shot I fire won’t be at your other kneecap, but your balls.”

It was the first time I’d heard a crude word pass her lips.

When she threatened to shoot his balls off, though, it was chilling – because you knew she meant it.

Every guy in the room winced in sympathy – especially the two gangsters holding Giotto in place.

“Who paid you to betray me?” the Widow asked.

Giotto’s face was a mask of pain. He was sweating profusely; big droplets were sliding down his cheeks.

Or maybe they were tears.

“Signora, please – ” he begged.

BANG!

Every man in the room flinched.

Giotto shrieked and closed his eyes –

Then opened them slightly when he realized his family jewels were still intact.

“Missed,” the Widow deadpanned. “I’ll aim a little higher this time.”

She raised the gun about two inches –

“Fausto Rosolini!” Giotto screamed. “Fausto Rosolini paid me to do it!”

My guts twisted inside me and my blood ran cold.

It was the first confirmation – the first real proof – of Fausto’s treachery.

It’s one thing to think that someone you love has betrayed you, but not really know for sure.

A part of you holds on to a speck of hope that it’s all just a misunderstanding – that maybe you’ve made some terrible mistake –

But now my last bit of hope was gone, incinerated by Giotto’s words…

And the cold, awful certainty of Fausto’s betrayal closed around my heart like a fist made of ice.

This was my uncle –

My father’s brother –

The man who had bounced me on his knee when I was a child.

Who had given me candy out of his pocket…

The one who had comforted me when my mother died and my father was too overwhelmed with grief to speak.

My uncle – a man I had loved and looked up to my entire life – had tried to kill me.

Not just once, but multiple times.

The hit in Florence when I was with Alessandra and Valentino –

The Turk invading our house –

Mezzasalma –

And now this attack on the Widow.

Fausto was my flesh and blood –

And yet he’d paid strangers to try to take my life.

He hadn’t even had the courage to do it himself.

The Widow seemed shaken, too, though not nearly as much as I was.

She lowered the gun and asked, “When?”

Now that he’d broken, all the fight had gone out of Giotto.

Maybe the Widow lowering her gun made him think he was out of danger if only he told the truth.

“I’ve been taking money from him for months,” he sobbed. He glanced down at the corpses of the black-clad mercenaries. “But then Aurelio called out of nowhere and wanted me to let them in.”

And there was the proof of Aurelio’s treachery, as well.

It didn’t sting nearly as much as Fausto’s betrayal.

Partly because I already believed what Bianca had told us in the study…

And partly because I’d always hated my cousin.

Aurelio was a vicious, arrogant bastard, and I’d despised him since we were children.

Now I was beginning to wonder how far the apple had actually fallen from the tree.

“Was it because Signor Rosolini came here today?” the Widow asked brusquely.

Giotto nodded. “Yes.”

“How much?”

“…Signora?”

“How much did he pay for you to betray me?”

“Signora, he swore to me they wouldn’t hurt you – they only wanted to take you captive – ”

“Oh, then that’s not betrayal at all,” she said in mock sympathy. Then her voice went back to cold, hard steel. “How much.”

Giotto winced. “A million euros.”

“A million,” she murmured in disgust. “That’s all your honor was worth to you.”

Giotto seemed to sense that something had shifted for the worse.

“Signora – I could be a double agent for you – I could tell him that – ”

The Widow raised the gun and fired.

BANG!

Giotto’s throat erupted in red, and the back of his neck blew out in a gout of crimson.

He stared at her, his eyes wide in horror as he tried to breathe – a series of gurgling, choking sounds –

And he slowly went limp as he drowned in his own blood.

The Widow’s expression never changed the entire time. She just watched, dispassionate and detached, as he died.

When the light had gone out of his eyes and he’d slumped over, supported only by the two men on either side of him, the old woman held out her gun to the side.

The same bodyguard who had given it to her took it back and holstered it.

“Remove this piece of garbage from my sight,” she ordered.

A bodyguard bent down to grab one of the mercenaries –

“Take Giotto, but leave them for now,” she snapped. “I want to talk to Signor Rosolini alone.”

“What about our men?” another suit asked.

“They’re dead,” she said curtly. “They’ll still be here in ten minutes. Now go.”

No one questioned the wisdom of leaving her alone with me.

They just hauled away Giotto’s body, his legs sliding limply behind him, and dragged him out of the room.

Then it was just me… the Widow… and a dozen dead bodies lying all around us.

7

As soon as her men were gone, the Widow turned to me. “Well, Signor Rosolini, it appears I owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

“For not believing you about your uncle. Had I listened to you from the beginning, we might have avoided this…”

She looked around at all the corpses.

“…debacle.”

Then she turned back to me. “You can be assured that I will support your family in any actions you take against your uncle and cousin.”

“Thank you, Signora.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What’s wrong, Signor Rosolini?”

She was perceptive, I’d give her that.

“It’s just… wouldn’t it have been better to keep Giotto alive for questioning?” I asked.

“We got what we needed. And after an episode like this, sometimes it’s better to set a fearsome example than get a few scraps of information.”

I wasn’t so sure about that, but I didn’t voice my doubt. After all, she was a mafia don – rather, a donna. A great lady of the Cosa Nostra. She had been ruling her family’s empire with an iron fist since I was a child.

One thing I was certain of, though:

My brother Adriano would have approved.

He, too, liked killing people before they’d been fully interrogated.

“You do realize that Giotto might not have been the only traitor,” I said.

She scowled. “I’m well aware. I’ll take of it.”

Okay, then.

Apparently she didn’t like outsiders questioning her organization or how she ran it.

I figured she was pissed at me for overstepping my bounds, but suddenly her voice softened. “I shouldn’t have doubted you, Massimo.”

I looked at her in surprise.

The use of my first name, especially by so powerful a woman –

It was a gesture of intimacy.

Like being admitted into her inner circle.

And to receive an apology from so powerful a person?

Rarer than a full solar eclipse during an alignment of all the planets.

However, I didn’t use her first name when I replied. The difference in our stations demanded I still address her with the utmost deference.

“No apology necessary, Signora.”

She gave me a smile of grim amusement. “It wasn’t an apology so much as a statement of fact.”

I chuckled. Even when saying she was sorry, she wouldn’t say she was sorry.

“Understood. But we should see to your safety now, along with everyone in your family.”

Her eyes widened and she gasped in horror. “Oh my God – ”

“What?”

“My granddaughter…”

I knew exactly what she was thinking.

If the Widow had been targeted for kidnapping, then there was a good chance that her only living relative would be, too.

Especially once Fausto learned that his plan to capture the Widow had failed.

“Where is she?” I asked.

“The Università Ca’ Foscari.”

The most prestigious university in Venice.

“Hold on,” the Widow said, then yelled loudly, “Roderigo!”

One of the suits poked his head through the door. “Signora?”

“Call my granddaughter, now!”

The man pulled out his phone as he rushed over to the Widow.

Then he dialed, put it on speakerphone, and held it out so we could hear.

We listened to the dial tone –

Followed by a recording of a young woman’s voice.

“It’s Lucia. Leave a message… BITCH.”

It’s fair to say I was completely taken aback.

The girl’s voice was young, snarky, and disrespectful – a complete 180 degrees from her grandmother.

Well… maybe 90 degrees.

They both had a good deal of snarkiness in common.

The Widow glanced over at me with a weary expression.

“My granddaughter,” she said in a disgusted tone of voice. Then she turned back to the phone. “Lucia, this is Nona – call me IMMEDIATELY. There was an attack on the palazzo. I’m fine, but I’m worried for your safety. I’m sending Roderigo and some of my men to come get you – ”

“I’ll go with them,” I offered.

“ – and a gentleman named Massimo Rosolini. Call me as soon as you get this.”

Then she nodded at Roderigo, and he hung up.

“Text her what I said,” she ordered.

Roderigo began typing out a message with his thumb.

The Widow turned to me. “Thank you for your kind offer. Given what you did earlier, I’m relieved you’ll be accompanying my men.”

“It’s my pleasure, Signora.”

She clasped my hands with her cold, tiny fingers – and for the first time, I could see real fear in her eyes.

“I implore you, Signore – return her to me safely, and I will meet whatever price you ask. She is all I have left in this world.”

The use of Signore was even more surprising than when she had called me by my first name.

Signor means ‘mister’ when attached to a name, such as ‘Signor Rosolini’ –

But Signore is far more respectful when used as an immediate address.

It can mean anything up to ‘lord.’

For a grand donna of the Cosa Nostra to address me in such a fashion –

It was a rare honor, indeed.

“The only price I ask is your friendship, Signora,” I said respectfully.

“You already have that for saving my life,” she assured me. “Now go – return my granddaughter to me safely!”

8

When people think of Venice, they usually picture a man in a striped shirt using a pole to push a gondola through the city’s canals.

These days, gondola rides are the stuff of romance and millions of selfies.

What isn’t immediately obvious is that gondolas were the only way to get around the city for a thousand years.

Venice – or Venezia, in Italian – is composed of 118 islands of various sizes crisscrossed by 150 canals. The only way around is on foot or by boat.

There are no cars. Plenty of streets for walking, yes, but all automobiles are banned – as are bicycles, motorcycles, skateboards, and rollerblades. The streets are just too narrow for anything but pedestrian traffic.

Which is how I found myself speeding through Venice in a motorboat in the middle of the afternoon.

The Widow’s home was on the northernmost tip of the city; Lucia’s university was smack dab in the middle. So Roderigo and I took off with four other men from the pier outside the Widow’s palazzo.

Thirty seconds into the trip, we were going a lot slower than I would have liked.

“Can’t this thing go any faster?” I asked Roderigo, who was piloting the boat. He was a stout guy with a head of black hair that was iron grey at the temples.

“It can,” he answered, “but the speed limit on these smaller canals is 7 kilometers an hour.”

Three miles per hour.

Jesus Christ.

“Look, we need to get there now,” I said – urgently but politely.

Roderigo shook his head. “The cops are pretty strict around here. If a police boat stops us, we’ll spend 15 minutes waiting for the asshole to write us a ticket.”

I stared at him in astonishment. “You don’t pay them off?”

“Yeah, but this ain’t Florence. We gotta keep up appearances – we can’t just go tearing around as fast as we want.”

I ignored the implied dig at my family. “Today isn’t an ordinary situation.”

Roderigo pointed at the side of the canal, which was almost within arm’s reach of the boat. “You can get out and walk if you want,” he said snidely.

At the rate we were going, it would have been faster.

But I didn’t say that.

And I didn’t say anything when the other four suits in the boat started chuckling.

I know I’m in the Cosa Nostra, but I’m ordinarily a patient man with a pleasant demeanor.

When you walk through the world at 6’7” and 270 pounds, your very presence tends to make a lot of people afraid. Especially women.

So I had learned to be gentle…

Polite…

Quiet.

Which fits my natural temperament. I’m ordinarily very even-keeled.

Until people start shooting at me, that is.

Most of the time, the only person who really gets under my skin is my brother Adriano. He’s my polar opposite: a hothead who spouts off at the mouth before he thinks.

He’s got a good heart – but he also has a natural talent for pissing me off. Always has, ever since we were little kids.

Dario, I’m cool with.

Niccolo and Roberto, no problem.

Valentino’s like a puppy dog.

Temperamentally, Lars is a lot like me. We get along great.

But Adriano…

Ever since I can remember, he’s been pissing me off.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve wanted to kill him.

If we’re talking about just getting angry at him, it numbers in the thousands. Maybe the tens of thousands.

So when Roderigo started acting like a dick, he didn’t realize I’d already grown up with a world-class asshole. Adriano had trained me in the art of keeping my cool.

It was like having Mike Tyson as a sparring partner in boxing: yes, he might have beat my ass up on a regular basis –

But with everybody else, I was a Zen fuckin’ master.

So I kept calm as I replied, “I need you to double the speed, now.”

Roderigo spoke to me like I was a not-so-bright ten-year-old. “If the cops flag us down, we’re going to lose more time than it’s worth – ”

“Which is why, if the cops flag you down, you’re not going to stop.”

“This boat can’t outrun them!” he said, like the idea was preposterous.

“You don’t have to outrun them – you just have to get me close to the university. Then you can stay with the boat and let the cops write you a ticket while the rest of us go get the granddaughter.”

“But – ”

“Why don’t we call your boss and see what she says?” I asked pleasantly.

That had the desired effect.

Maybe the Widow had been right about shooting Giotto and – what had she called it? – setting a ‘fearsome example.’

Roderigo had had a front-row seat, after all.

He knew the old lady wouldn’t take kindly to fucking around with her granddaughter’s safety.

Roderigo grumbled, but he immediately pushed on the throttle and doubled our speed.

“If we get stopped on the way, it’s on your head, not mine,” he said snippily.

“Fine,” I replied, but I kept all sarcasm out of my voice. “Thank you.”

He didn’t answer.

I ignored the cold shoulder.

Roderigo was acting like a complete dumbass. The worst man in my family’s crew of foot soldiers was better than him –

But I thought I knew why.

The Widow’s regime had gone unchallenged for decades. Her power in Venice was so absolute, and the situation so peaceful, that her men had grown complacent and lazy.

Yes, something unprecedented had happened that morning during the attack on the Widow – but Roderigo could write it off as a betrayal by one of his colleagues.

The idea that the situation might have fundamentally changed?

Unthinkable.

Unfortunately for Roderigo and his fellow soldiers, a pack of wolves had come to town.

Hungry wolves, ready to rip out some throats.

Roderigo thought the danger was over because a few mercenaries were dead…

But I feared the danger had only just begun.

Roderigo slowed down as the motorboat moved from a smaller canal into a larger one. Once he was sure there were no boats we might collide with, he sped up again.

The waterways in Venice were like streets – which means they had traffic. They also all had names, which were displayed on metal signs affixed to the sides of the ancient buildings.

I looked around in wonder at my surroundings. It really was like something out of a fantasy.

The city’s foundations had been slowly sinking for centuries. As a result, many buildings’ ground levels had been abandoned to the sea. Several feet of water covered the floors, and small motorboats were moored in what 200 years ago had been a living room. Algae and slime covered most of the walls up to the high-tide marks.

Our boat went under a footbridge spanning the canal. Up on top of the bridge, curious pedestrians peered down at us.

We must have looked odd to them: six tough guys in suits cruising along in a motorboat.

“Has Signorina Fioretti called you back yet?” I yelled at Roderigo over the sound of the motor.

He gave a single, bitter laugh. “Lucia? No.”

“Maybe you should try her again.”

“Trust me, she won’t answer.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“Because she never answers.”

“But you texted her about the attack, right?”

“I doubt she read it. Probably too busy taking selfies.”

“Then how are we supposed to find her?”

“She has ‘Find My iPhone’ enabled for my account.”

“But what if she’s turned it off?”

Roderigo smirked. “If she does, she doesn’t get her monthly allowance – and there’s no way she’s going to pass that up.”

“Too many shoes to buy,” another man said mockingly.

“What if she doesn’t have her phone on her?” I asked.

Everyone on the boat laughed at that one.

“It’s surgically attached to her hand,” Roderigo said. “She’ll have it.”

I thought for a second. Something wasn’t sitting right with me.

“Are you the only one who could track her with ‘Find My iPhone’?” I asked.

“No, there are several of us.”

“Like Giotto? Or somebody else who might have betrayed your employer?”

The blood slowly drained from Roderigo’s face. He notched up the throttle a second later so we went a little faster.

Now he was finally getting it.

“Just in case, anybody got a picture so I’ll recognize her?” I asked.

One of the younger suits snorted. “Just look at her socials. Instagram’s her favorite… at the moment.”

I pulled out my phone. “What do I search for – Lucia Fioretti?”

“No. Principessa puttana della mafia.”

‘Mafia princess bitch.’

Several of the guys chuckled.

I glared at the guy who’d said it. “I don’t think your employer would appreciate – ”

“It’s her handle,” he interrupted. “Go ahead, look it up – all one word.”

I raised one eyebrow, but I typed it into Google –

And lo and behold, an Instagram account popped up.

When I opened it, I began to understand the men’s attitudes.

There were hundreds of pictures of a young, very pretty woman. She had a cherubic face with huge brown eyes, full lips, and flawless skin. Her long dark hair was fashionably cut and styled differently in each photograph. She was also quite short – maybe a bit over 5 feet – and petite. Overall, she gave the impression of a beautiful life-size doll.

She was also extremely spoiled.

Now, I wear expensive clothes. I need them custom-made because my frame is so large – but my suits and shirts are of the highest quality. So I don’t begrudge anyone a taste for luxury.

But I don’t flash designer labels for the hell of it. I try to be understated.

Lucia was the very definition of ‘ostentatious.’

Everything she wore showed off her extreme wealth. Birkin bags… Hermès scarves… and lots of jewelry with the Gucci ‘G’ prominently displayed, often encrusted in diamonds.

She had taste, yes – everything she wore was beautiful – but she was a walking billboard for the most expensive brands in the world.

In one of her photos, she was wearing a Gucci jumpsuit and carrying a Louis Vuitton bag.

The caption was ‘Slumming it.’

When you were used to carrying around an assortment of $200,000 Birkins, yes, I guess a $30,000 Louis Vuitton was a step down.

So she was beautiful…

Boastful…

And on top of that, she looked like an ill-mannered little brat.

I guess I should have known that from ‘Leave a message, BITCH’ –

But the pictures were confirmation.

In at least two dozen photos, she was scowling and flipping off the camera with her middle finger. In a couple more, she made the obscene Italian gesture for cunnilingus: her fingers in a ‘V’ at her mouth with her tongue stuck out.

Basically, ‘eat me.’

I sighed.

I wasn’t looking forward to the next half hour.

Hopefully I could just let Roderigo and the others handle her. I would get points with the Widow for going along, and then I could leave Venice behind.

A text message notification from Lars popped up on my phone.

I tapped on it and opened Messenger.

Can you talk?

Everything had happened so quickly since the attack that I’d forgotten about sending him the pictures.

I immediately called and held the phone up to my ear.

Lars answered on the first ring.

“Hey, Mass – I’m here with Dario and Niccolo.”

I could barely hear them over the sound of the boat motor, but I could more or less tell what he was saying.

Niccolo spoke. “Where the hell are you?”

“On a boat in the canals with the – ”

I was about to say ‘Widow,’ but I caught myself in time.

“ – Signora Fioretti’s men, going to get her granddaughter at her university.”

Because of the noise of the boat motor, no one else in the boat could hear anything Lars and my brothers might say over the cell phone – but I wanted to let them know why I might be a bit vague in some of my answers.

“Scoring brownie points, I see,” Niccolo said approvingly.

“I’m trying.”

“Are you alright?” Dario asked. “You weren’t hurt in the attack?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“More importantly,” Niccolo joked, “is the Widow alright?”

“Thanks,” I said sardonically. “And yes, she’s fine.”

“Did you happen to save her bony ass in a grand display of heroics?”

“I’d say that’s a fair assessment.”

“Then I hope she’s suitably grateful.”

“That part’s going well.”

“Excellent,” Dario said.

“Any word on the attackers?”

“My source has identified two of them. He’s still checking on the others.”

“And?”

“They’re Wagner Group.”

I stared straight ahead in shock. “…shit.”

“Yeah.”

The Wagner Group was a paramilitary organization originally headed up by Yevgeny Prigozhin – once the right-hand man of Vladimir Putin. That is, until Prigozhin accused the Russian Defense Ministry of backstabbing his troops as they fought on the front lines of the Ukraine War.

In June 2023, Prigozhin and 25,000 of his mercenaries mutinied and advanced on Moscow. With enemy troops less than 200 miles away, Putin held a nationwide broadcast and said that Prigozhin had betrayed Russia. Prigozhin claimed it wasn’t true, that he just wanted to oust two of his enemies in the Kremlin who had stabbed the Wagner Group in the back.

Back-channel negotiations ensued, and Prigozhin ended up calling off the insurrection. Wagner mercenaries left Russia and took up residence in Belarus, a former Soviet satellite and current Russian ally.

Two months later, Prigozhin ‘mysteriously’ died in a plane crash.

The Kremlin denied any involvement, but it was determined that the crash had resulted from a midair explosion – probably a bomb planted before takeoff.

Since Prigozhin’s death, Wagner members had started looking for freelance work wherever they could find it.

I guess they’d found it with Uncle Fausto.

The Wagner Group became infamous for committing war crimes while they were fighting in Ukraine. Rape, torture, mass executions…

Not to mention that in the early stages of the war, Prigozhin had recruited murderers from Russian prisons to join Wagner’s ranks – in exchange for full pardons for their crimes.

In short, the Wagner Group was a nasty piece of business… and it seemed Fausto had hired some of them to go after the Widow.

“You think it was a coincidence they attacked her when I was there?” I asked.

Niccolo laughed bitterly. “I think you mean, ‘How the fuck did they know I was in Venice?’ It was either a bug in the house or moles. We’re looking into it.”

“Okay… so what do we do?”

Dario answered. “Deliver the Widow’s granddaughter to her safely, then get back home. We’re figuring out the rest right now.”

“Alright.”

“Watch your back,” Lars warned me. “If they went after the Widow, they might not be finished.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” I said glumly.

“Keep safe,” Dario said, “and let us know when you’re on the way back.”

“Okay,” I agreed, then hung up the phone.

As I’d feared, the situation had gotten a lot worse.

“Bad news?” Roderigo asked.

“You could say that,” I replied. “Those mercenaries back at the palazzo? They’re from the Wagner Group.”

Roderigo shrugged. “So?”

“The Wagner Group?” I said in disbelief. “As in, the guys who did most of the Russian fighting in Ukraine and then almost overthrew Moscow?”

Roderigo smirked. “If you killed them, they can’t be that tough.”

The douchebag was lucky Adriano wasn’t here. My brother would have bit his head off… then tore him a new asshole… then shoved his head up the new asshole.

I just gave him a grim smile. “I didn’t see you in there.”

Roderigo smirked. “Hey – if you can kill them, I can kill them.”

The guy who wanted to go 3 miles an hour on his little putt-putt boat?

Not likely.

But now I saw another fault with the Widow’s men. They assumed that if some stronzo from Tuscany could take out the mercenaries, they must not have been that tough in the first place. The only reason the attackers had gotten as far as they did was because of Giotto’s treachery.

Stupid assumption.

Both that the Wagner guys hadn’t been that dangerous…

And that Giotto had been the only traitor in the Widow’s ranks.

Before I could say anything, Roderigo turned back to steering. “Nobody else is gonna show up. This is all a big to-do about nothing.”

“Famous last words.”

Roderigo snorted in amusement. “We’ll see.”

I double-checked the holster for my Glock, which I’d gotten back when I left the palazzo, and hoped I wouldn’t have to use it.

9

As we pulled up to the pier outside Ca’ Foscari University, one of the Widow’s men jumped out to tie up our boat.

‘Ca’ was short for ‘casa,’ or house. Ca’ Foscari basically meant House of the Foscari family.

However, ‘house’ was a little misleading. Every ‘casa’ was actually a giant palazzo, once owned by some of the richest families in Venetian history.

For instance, the Foscari family had ruled the city in the 15th century. Now their ancient palace housed a university – or at least part of it.

The front of the building was impressive. Four stories of Gothic splendor towered over the Grand Canal. Dozens of elegant, arched windows were framed in lace-like curlicues. The overall effect was both beautiful and whimsical – like Ca’ Foscari was a giant gingerbread house assembled by the greatest architects of the Middle Ages.

As we stepped off the boat onto the dock, I couldn’t help myself: “And we didn’t even run into any police.”

Roderigo just grunted in irritation.

We proceeded to the cavernous main hall on the ground floor, where dozens of curious students watched as we strode past. In a sea of hoodies and jeans, six guys in $5000 suits stood out like a sore thumb.

“Shit, they’re between classes,” Roderigo grumbled.

“So?” I asked.

“So she won’t stay still. Look, she’s on the move.”

He held out his iPhone, which was displaying the Find app.

I immediately saw what he meant: the little blue dot signifying Lucia’s phone was moving slowly across the screen.

Only problem was, there was no way to tell which level of the building she was on.

“There are four floors and six of us,” I said. “We should split up.”

“Who can track her on the app?” Roderigo asked his men.

Only two of them raised their hands.

“Great,” he muttered. “Manfredo and Arnoldo, you two take the ground floor. Nino and Terancio take the second. I’ll take the third floor, and you take the fourth.”

By ‘you’ he meant me.

“Shouldn’t I go with somebody who has the app?” I asked.

“I doubt she’ll be on the fourth,” Roderigo said with a smirk. He pointed at a directory posted on the wall. “It’s mathematics and sciences – not exactly her thing. Plus, you know what she looks like from her Instagram. If I can’t find her on the third floor, I’ll come join you on the fourth.”

“Okay,” I said. Seemed reasonable. “What’s your number in case I need you?”

As he said it out loud, I dialed him and hung up so it would be in my cell.

Manfredo and Arnoldo stayed on the ground floor while the rest of us ascended the palazzo’s giant central staircase. Terancio and Nino peeled off on the second story. At the third-floor landing, I took one last look at Roderigo’s app to get my bearings, then continued up to the fourth floor alone.

As I strode across the marble floor, the students watched me pass, their faces curious. I stood a head above even the tallest guys, and 12 to 18 inches above the rest.

Which made it easier for me to scan the crowd… although Lucia was so short that she could easily be hidden behind someone else.

I tried to pinpoint where I’d last seen the dot on the app –

And then I saw her.

Not in the hallway, but on an exterior balcony looking down on a central courtyard. I could see her through the ornate glass windows separating the balcony from the palazzo’s interior.

She was just as beautiful as her photographs – and even tinier than I’d imagined.

She wore a white silk blouse with a red leather jacket, a black skirt, sheer black stockings, and black stilettos. Her hair was done up on the top of her head with two curled tendrils framing her face.

Since she was in profile, my eyes traveled down her body.

Madonn…

What a fucking ass she had!

The rest of her was petite, but she had a gorgeous derriere under her little black skirt – full and shapely.

I pulled my eyes away – though it was difficult, seeing as I’m an ass man.

But I reminded myself I had a job to do.

Be professional.

Suddenly she raised her arm into the air.

She had it angled above her, with her phone in her hand –

Because she was taking a selfie.

Of COURSE she was.

It was the perfect spot for it. Plenty of reflected sunlight on the balcony, yet enough shadow from the ceiling above her so she wouldn’t have to squint.

I sighed and hit Roderigo’s number in my phone.

“Yeah?”

“Found her. She’s on the balcony on four.”

“Okay, I’ll be right there.”

I hung up and considered whether I should approach her. Probably best to wait for Roderigo so he could handle her.

I scanned the crowd.

All students… no gun-toting mercenaries in black.

I looked back at the balcony –

She had finished her selfie and was walking away from me.

“Shit,” I muttered.

I walked over to intercept her as she opened the door to the hallway.

Guess I was going to have to delay her until Roderigo got there.

10

Lucia

The light was absolutely perfect out on the balcony, and I got a great angle that hid that dimple in my chin I hate. Ever since I heard that hot American comic on TikTok talk about dating a girl with a butt chin – she was from Texas, and his friends called her the ‘Texas Chinsaw Massacre’ – I have been lowkey obsessed with trying to hide mine. I hate it. I’ve been thinking about plastic surgery, even though the thought of somebody cutting into my face freaks me the fuck out.

But I loved my outfit today. That much was a plus. Dior top, Cartier necklace – and I adored my Prada jacket. It really set off the whole ensemble.

And my Louboutins. Gotta have the Louboutins.

I was thinking about what I should put in the caption for my Insta post when the tallest guy I’d ever seen walked up to me.

I mean, the dude was huge.

Ever see Game of Thrones?

Pedro Pascal as Oberon Martell is my all-time hot internet boyfriend –

So the one guy that stands out is the man who killed Oberon Martell.

(Retroactive spoiler alert. But it was 10 years ago, so… come on.)

It was Cersei Lannister’s private bodyguard. They called him la Montagna – the Mountain. He was played by some Icelandic bodybuilder and was almost seven feet tall.

This guy reminded me of the Mountain…

But a lot hotter.

He had these soft brown eyes… wavy, dark brown hair… and a neatly trimmed beard over a solid granite jaw.

His shoulders? SO broad and muscular.

And his suit? Amazing. I think it was bespoke – I didn’t recognize the brand, and he was so gigantic that I doubted he could get something off the rack – but it was beautifully cut. Perfectly tailored to his enormous, huge, absolutely delicious arms.

I stared up at him with my mouth slightly open.

If we’d been outside, he would have blotted out the sun.

“Signorina Fioretti? My name is Massimo Rosolini.”

Ohhhhh…

That voice…

It was sooooo deep.

And his name… Massimo…

It made me think ‘Massive’ – just like him.

I’m not gonna lie: between his face, the height, his shoulders, and that voice… I got a little turned on.

And then he went and fuckin’ ruined it.

“I’m here to take you back to your grandmother.”

Shit.

Of course he was.

Just another mafia clown in a nice suit.

“Not interested, thanks,” I said as I breezed past him –

Or tried to, anyway.

He put a gigantic hand on my shoulder.

His paw was as big as a ham hock – and about as welcome as getting touched by raw meat.

“HEY,” I snapped, “GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF ME.”

I’d had enough mafia goons trying to order me around to last ten lifetimes.

I didn’t need yet another idiot thinking he was the boss of me just because he worked for Nona.

I tried smacking his arm away –

But it was like hitting a big tree branch. Didn’t budge a millimeter.

“Signorina – ”

“It’s Lucia, asshole. And LET GO OF – ”

“Your grandmother was attacked.”

Suddenly the entire world buckled beneath my feet.

My insides turned cold and I felt like I might throw up.

For a split second, I was six years old again in the back of the car, my ears ringing from the sound of the crash –

“Is she… is she okay?” I croaked. It was difficult to speak.

He finally removed his hand from my shoulder. I guess I looked like I wouldn’t run off.

“Yes, she’s fine – but we’re worried someone might come after you. Her men called you and texted you – ”

‘Her men’?

Nobody who worked for Nona talked like that. It was always ‘we.’

I narrowed my eyes as he continued talking.

“ – but you didn’t answer, so – ”

“Who are you again?” I snapped.

“As I said, my name is Massimo Rosolini – ”

“Yeah, I got that part, dumbass. But you don’t work for my grandmother.”

If he did, I would have remembered him for sure.

“No,” he said with forced patience, “I live in Tuscany, outside Florence – ”

Florence –

Rosolini –

Everything clicked into place.

No wonder the name had sounded familiar.

I did my best to ignore all the mafia bullshit flying around my life, but it’s not like I could completely escape it. For one, the story had been all over the news last month – not to mention it was all Silvio, Nona’s consigliere, could talk about whenever I came home.

“You’re the assholes who whacked the Agrellas!” I yelled.

About 20 students all around looked over in surprise.

The big guy’s eyes widened comically. He glanced over his shoulder like he was afraid what a bunch of normies would think.

Maybe it was different in Tuscany, but in Venice, all the locals knew who the Widow was – and everybody in school knew I was her granddaughter. Sometimes I could hear them whispering about it behind my back.

“We did not kill the Agrellas,” he hissed angrily. “I came to explain to your grandmother – ”

“Oh – the same day she got attacked?! What a fuckin’ coincidence!” I spat. “I don’t know who the fuck you are, but GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”

I yelled that last part loud enough that some of the male students were starting to gather around, wondering if they should intervene.

There was the sound of leather-soled shoes slapping on the marble floor.

Roderigo, one of Nona’s dumbass minions, came running up next to us.

“I got here… as fast as I could… when I heard the screaming,” he panted.

“Would you please tell her that I’m here as a friend?” the big guy said, obviously annoyed with me.

Roderigo wiped a bead of sweat off his brow. “It’s true – he saved your grandmother, Lucia.”

“If he didn’t fuckin’ set her up in the first place,” I snarled.

“You have to come back to the palazzo,” Roderigo said.

“WHY, exactly?”

“Because it’s not safe out here.”

I rolled my eyes.

“It’s never fuckin’ safe ‘out here,’” I said, using my fingers to make air quotes. “You people are always saying that.”

“Men tried to kidnap your grandmother,” Massimo snapped.

“Who, your men?” I asked sarcastically.

Massimo was getting even more irritated.

Not gonna lie, I kinda liked pushing his buttons.

“NO, not my men – ”

“Please, Lucia,” Roderigo asked in the voice he used when he was afraid I was going to make a scene.

Which he tended to use pretty often, because I had to make a lot of scenes to get even a speck of freedom.

If Nona had her way, I’d spend my life on a ten-foot leash… and she’d still want eight feet of slack in her hand.

“No,” I said.

“Lucia – ”

“What are you going to do, lock me away in the castle for a week? A month? How long?”

“Probably just for a day or two – ”

“That’s what you said last year. ‘Just a day or two, Lucia! Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon!’ And then two days turned into two weeks, which turned into two months – ”

“Lucia – ”

“NO. I’m not fuckin’ Rapunzel, and I’m not staying in your goddamn tower. If Nona’s so worried about my safety, tell her to get out of the fuckin’ Cosa Nostra.”

I turned to leave –

But the big guy was faster.

“Fuck this,” I heard him mutter –

And then he picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder.

Like, literally picked me up in the air and tossed me over his shoulder.

It happened so fast that I barely hung on to my phone and purse.

In two seconds flat, my stomach was on his shoulder, and my ass was in the air as his arm locked tight around my legs.

Under different circumstances, I would have loved that.

I’d never met a guy so strong that he could just toss me around like I was a rag doll.

However, these were not ‘different circumstances’ –

And I did NOT love it.

“PUT ME DOWN!” I shrieked at the top of my voice.

“Uhhh…” Roderigo said, obviously unnerved. He knew better than to pull this shit.

Not that Roderigo could have done it, anyway. I doubt he could have lifted me a foot off the ground.

“Let’s go,” Massimo said as he started walking down the hall.

Roderigo followed behind me, obviously in shock.

Just like me, he couldn’t believe this shit was happening – but he was useless, so he just followed along like a whipped puppy dog.

“PUT ME DOWN!”

“No,” Massimo said.

I stuffed my phone into my purse so I wouldn’t drop it, then started pounding Massimo’s back with my fists.

It was like trying to punch a brick wall with a thin layer of padding over it.

Dude was all muscle.

Which ordinarily would have been like, YUM! –

If he weren’t publicly humiliating me.

“PUT ME DOWN, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” I screamed.

“I’m taking you back to your grandmother.”

“You’re KIDNAPPING me is what you’re DOING!”

“No, I’m saving you – ”

“HELP! HELP ME!” I screamed at the students standing around staring.

I couldn’t see him, but I heard a new guy’s voice say, “Hey – ”

And then Massimo growled, “DON’T.”

As we kept going, we passed a tall guy in a hoodie. He looked a little unnerved, like somebody had just stuck a gun in his face.

“GO GET THE POLICE!” I screamed at him.

Suddenly there was a loud smack! that reverberated through the hallway –

As a light sting flared in my ass cheeks.

Not to mention vibrations that I felt, ahem, other places.

I gasped in shock.

…okay.

I won’t lie to you.

I was surprised, and pissed off, and in total disbelief –

…but I kinda liked it.

Or I would have, under different circumstances.

But I repeat:

Not these circumstances.

“Did you just SPANK me?!” I asked, absolutely horrified.

This stupid asshole had just spanked me in front of a hundred people!

At my university!

With my ass in the air!

ME!

The fuckin’ granddaughter of the Widow of Venice!

“You know better than to say things like that,” Massimo said coldly.

He was talking about telling people to get the cops.

A complete and utter no-no when you’re part of the Cosa Nostra.

But at this point, I was beyond caring about gangster etiquette.

I shouted, “I don’t care if you DID whack the Agrellas – ”

SMACK!

Another flare of pain, another vibration deep inside me –

(unnnh – GOD that felt good)

Followed by utter shock.

The shithead spanked me again!

This… would… not… STAND.

I was gonna go Quentin Tarantino on this motherfucker.

I drummed my fists on his back again. “I’m gonna pop a fucking CAP in your ass for that, you – ”

Massimo suddenly stopped.

Something had changed.

I could see the shock and fear on Roderigo’s face.

He fumbled in his jacket for his gun –

But he never got it out.

11

Massimo

For all her fearsome behavior towards her underlings and the other families of the Cosa Nostra, the Widow must have been a pushover with her granddaughter – because she had raised a little brat.

The old woman definitely should have spanked Lucia a lot more while she was growing up.

I doubted she’d ever been told ‘no,’ because I had never encountered such an irritating woman in my LIFE.

It was like arguing with a toddler –

So I treated her like a toddler.

I swept her up, threw her over my left shoulder, and started walking.

She didn’t like that.

“PUT ME DOWN!” she screeched.

“No,” I said.

Her perfume was amazing – light, feminine, and floral – and it filled my nostrils with a delicate scent.

Luckily, her screaming and writhing made ignoring her smell a lot easier.

The other students stared at us like we were some sort of carnival freak show.

I didn’t like it – I had to get her out of here and away from all these witnesses as soon as possible.

That’s when I felt her hitting my back in a pique of fury.

It felt like somebody throwing dinner rolls at me.

“PUT ME DOWN, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”

This girl had a mouth like a sewer.

“I’m taking you back to your grandmother,” I said calmly.

“You’re KIDNAPPING me is what you’re DOING!”

I clenched my jaw.

Talking about kidnapping in front of civilians was not good.

She knew better than that.

But I remained calm. “No, I’m saving you – ”

“HELP! HELP ME!” she started screaming, appealing to the other students.

I was getting very tired of this, very quickly.

Then the thing I was anticipating actually happened: a college boy walked over, trying to be a cowboy.

“Hey – ”

I shot him my best Do NOT fuck with me right now stare. “DON’T.”

I don’t like hurting civilians, but I had a mission: get Lucia back to her grandmother safely.

And if I had to break this kid’s jaw to complete my mission – and dissuade any other would-be heroes from interfering – I’d do it.

I wouldn’t feel good about it… but I’d do it.

Luckily, he immediately backed off.

Which meant he was smart.

Lucia, unfortunately, was not.

“GO GET THE POLICE!” she screamed at him.

I was shocked.

She had just committed the unpardonable sin.

Any kid who grew up in a mafia family – as Lucia most definitely had – knew that you never invited the police into Cosa Nostra business. You didn’t even joke about that shit.

And she most definitely was not joking.

My blood boiled.

Once again, I thought, Her grandmother should have spanked her growing up –

And then I decided that was exactly what she needed.

I reached up and smacked her ass.

Not enough to really hurt her –

Just a warning to SHUT THE FUCK UP.

I heard an audible gasp from her.

At the same time, a lot of students covered their mouths as they tried to stifle a laugh.

I hoped Lucia would see their reaction and that the humiliation would quiet her down.

No such luck.

“Did you just SPANK me?!” she demanded, sounding more angry than abashed.

“You know better than to say things like that,” I said coldly.

And then she went and fucked with me again.

She shouted, “I don’t care if you DID whack the Agrellas – ”

OH MY GOD, THIS GIRL.

When she’d mentioned the Agrellas earlier – before I’d thrown her over my shoulder – I had wanted to strangle her.

I settled for just spanking her a second time.

SMACK!

There was another shocked pause –

And then she started hitting me with her little baby fists again. “I’m going to pop a fucking CAP in your ass for that, you – ”

But I barely heard her.

Because at that moment, my worst fears came true.

A man walked out of a doorway at the far end of the hall.

He stood out from all the college students. He was in his 30s, shaved head, Slavic features, black shirt and pants.

No helmet or body armor, so he wouldn’t immediately give himself away –

But he did have a long black trench coat draped over his right shoulder and arm like some sort of opera cape.

A trench coat on a sunny day in the middle of June?

He was hiding something under there –

And it didn’t take him long to reveal it.

The Russian shrugged off the trench coat. As it fell, I saw his assault rifle pointing at the floor.

Ordinarily, I would have gone for my Glock – in fact, I’d thrown Lucia over my left shoulder to keep my gun hand free –

But I could draw or I could move.

The stairwell was just five feet away.

And while I didn’t think the mercenary would fire on me while carrying the Widow’s granddaughter, I had no guarantees.

So I moved.

I darted for the staircase as the Russian started to lift his rifle.

I was already through the doorway when I heard screams behind me in the hall.

The students must have seen the gun –

But their screams were drowned out by a burst of gunfire.

BRATTATATAT!

The gunfire stopped –

Followed by more screams and the THUD of a body on the marble floor.

Roderigo, most likely, though I didn’t take time to look back and confirm.

I was already clattering down the stairway as fast as I could go.

I simultaneously reached under my jacket for my gun holster.

Lucia was screaming, “OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD – ”

But her voice vibrated louder and quieter, WAH wah WAH wah, as her body jolted every time my feet hit the steps.

I had my Glock out by the time I reached the third landing.

Students had been looking up towards the fourth floor in frightened curiosity –

But as soon as they saw my gun, they screamed and scattered.

I glanced down the central open space of the stairwell.

I only saw people fleeing down and not up –

Which was good. Only a mercenary or a policeman would be fighting his way against the crowd.

So I kept going down, and Lucia kept screaming as she bounced on my shoulder.

Two men raced into the stairwell from the second-floor doorway, pistols drawn.

I almost shot them –

Until I realized they were Terancio and Nino, the Widow’s men who had gone to search for Lucia.

“What’s going on?!” Nino shouted.

“Shooter on the fourth!” I yelled. “Go take him out!”

Both Nino and Terancio stared at me like I was insane.

Hell NO, we’re not going up there!

They were younger than me, which meant they probably hadn’t worked as foot soldiers for long. And the Widow hadn’t had any real competition in Venice for more than a decade, so they’d probably never faced a situation like this.

Too fucking bad.

It was their job to protect their boss’s family. It’s what they’d signed up for.

“GO!” I screamed as I blew past them down the stairs.

A burst of gunfire chattered above us –

BRATTATATAT!

And Terancio’s white shirt exploded with red.

Nino panicked, raised his gun, and started firing blindly up the central stairwell.

“FUCK!” I shouted as I kept going down.

When I reached the ground floor, it was pandemonium.

People were running and screaming in every direction.

Manfredo and Arnoldo came racing up, battling through the panicked crowd.

“What’s going on?!” Manfredo shouted.

“Shooter right behind us!” I yelled. “You wait at the edge of the stairwell and shoot him when he comes down! Arnoldo, clear my path to the boat!”

I knew that if there was one mercenary on the fourth floor, there were bound to be more – which is why I needed Arnoldo to go ahead of me.

If not to take them out, then at least draw their fire and make them betray their positions.

Callous, I know – but my only goal was to keep Lucia safe.

And I didn’t give a shit who had to die for me to do it.

Unlike their dumbass colleagues, Manfredo and Arnoldo raced into action.

Manfredo positioned himself at the edge of the staircase and waited.

Arnoldo ran for the front of the building and the boat dock, his gun drawn.

I followed about 20 feet behind him.

Arnoldo made it just beyond the front door onto the pier before he got cut down.

BRATTATATAT!

Arnoldo’s left side exploded with red and he went down.

I raced up to the doorway and peeked out.

A single mercenary dressed like the shooter on the fourth floor stood up out of a sleek speed boat. He was checking to make sure he’d killed Arnoldo.

I shot him in the head.

BLAM!

The mercenary jerked backwards and collapsed inside the cockpit of the boat.

One down…

I checked to my right –

No other shooters. Visible ones, anyway.

I raced for the speedboat, Lucia bobbing over my shoulder.

The motorboat I’d come in on was basically a nicer version of the civilian boats plowing through the canals.

If I used the motorboat and the mercenaries came after me in the speedboat, they’d easily overtake me.

Better to take theirs.

Back in the lobby, I heard distant shooting – both automatic fire from an assault rifle and repeated shots from a pistol.

Brattatatatatatat!

Bang bang bang bang!

Manfredo was facing off against the mercenary.

Then the gunfire stopped.

Somebody had probably won the shootout…

And my money wasn’t on Manfredo.

I reached the speedboat and unlashed the rope tying it to the pier. Then I stepped down into the craft, careful to keep my balance.

It was long and narrow and made of burnished teak, with two seats in the front, a narrow aisle between them, and three seats in the back of the cockpit.

I kept Lucia over my shoulder the entire time. Only once I was safely inside the boat did I set her down on her feet.

“Sit!” I yelled at her as I turned to the control panel. Thank God the keys were still in the ignition.

Of course, Lucia freaked out when she saw the dead mercenary on the floor.

“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD – ”

“SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN!” I roared as I started the motor.

“THERE’S A DEAD BODY!”

“AND THERE’S GONNA BE TWO MORE IF I DON’T GET US OUT OF HERE!”

The boat was flush with the dock, so I reached over and pushed us away hard.

The nose of the boat slowly moved and pointed two foot out into the canal.

It was enough to get us going. Luckily there weren’t any other boats close enough to cause a problem.

I spun the steering wheel and slowly eased forward on the throttle.

I aimed my Glock at the university’s front door the entire time, watching in case a mercenary came out.

The boat angled towards the Grand Canal. I eased forward on the throttle to increase our speed –

And saw a figure limping towards us from the shadows of the main doorway, now about 50 feet away.

He was bald and all in black.

Not Manfredo.

But at least he was limping, which meant Manfredo had probably tagged him.

Before the mercenary could fire, I slammed the throttle forward.

The nose of the boat bucked up in the air and I slammed back in my seat.

Lucia screamed as she tumbled into the seats at the back of the cabin –

And we took off like a shot into the Grand Canal.

12

Lucia

I was freaking OUT.

I hadn’t seen anything like this since –

Well…

Since I was six years old.

And I was struggling to keep from having a panic attack.

I mean, I’d just watched Roderigo get blown away –

And another one of Nona’s men get shot all to hell –

All while hanging over the Mountain’s shoulder.

And now there was a dead man with a hole in his head leaking blood all over the floor of the boat.

The giant from Tuscany was not exactly sympathetic.

“SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN!” he screamed at me.

“THERE’S A DEAD BODY!” I yelled back.

“AND THERE’S GONNA BE TWO MORE IF I DON’T GET US OUT OF HERE!”

I winced as I stepped through the puddle of crimson and maneuvered to the back seats.

In her song “Bodak Yellow,” Cardi B calls Christian Louboutins ‘bloody shoes’ because of their signature red soles.

Well, my Louboutins were bloody shoes for real.

I felt the slight motion of the boat as we moved away from the pier.

I was just turning around to sit when a giant spike in acceleration threw me backwards onto my ass –

And we shot out into the Grand Canal at top speed.

“A LITTLE WARNING WOULD BE NICE, ASSHOLE!” I screamed at him.

He ignored me as he sped down the center of the waterway –

Straight for a Vaporetto, one of the ‘water buses’ that ferried dozens of people at a time through Venice.

“WATCH OUT!” I shrieked.

He jerked the wheel at the last second, and we curved out of the path of the Vaporetto –

Towards a water taxi and a couple of motorboats.

I screamed again, but he managed to avoid them as we sped down the middle of the waterway.

All the other boats hugged the sides of the canal to keep out of our way.

Massimo apparently knew how to drive a boat –

But he did not know how deal with traffic, that was for damn sure.

“Do I need to come up there and drive?!” I shouted angrily.

“No, but you need to tell me how to get to your grandmother’s!”

“The fastest way would be to take the – ”

“What?!” he yelled over the roar of the motor and the wind.

Fuck this.

I leaned forward, grabbed the passenger seat in front of me, and pulled myself onto my feet.

Then I winced as I stepped through the blood and over the corpse –

And plopped down in the seat next to Massimo.

“The fastest way is to turn around and go down the canal next to the university!” I yelled.

It was still hard to be heard over the wind, but it was a hell of a lot easier now that I was two feet away from him.

“Not happening!” he yelled as he concentrated on avoiding the other boats. “The shooter was coming out as we left!”

So that’s why he took off like a bat out of hell…

“Alright, then – see that smaller canal coming up on the right? If you take that, you’ll – ”

“No smaller canals!” he shouted. “We have to go as fast as possible, and we can’t get boxed in!”

I rolled my eyes.

If you’re not going to take my advice, then why did you fucking ask for it?

“The Grand Canal eventually dumps out into the Giudecca Canal. Keep going to the left and hug the coastline, and you’ll circle around the island.”

“Okay.”

The Grand Canal cuts through the center of Venice in a giant ‘S’ shape. It’s only about 225 feet at its widest.

The Giudecca Canal, on the other hand, is huge – about 1200 feet wide. It’s not even a canal, really – more like a waterway between Giudecca Island and the city of Venice.

We were going so fast that we reached it in less than a minute.

Massimo hung a left and started towards the southeastern tip of Venice –

When I looked behind us and saw a scary sight.

Another speedboat was approaching at top speed –

And it wasn’t a police cruiser.

“Somebody’s chasing us!” I yelled.

Massimo looked over his shoulder, cursed, and asked, “Do you know how to drive a boat?”

“I live in Venice. YES, I know how to drive a boat, you fucking chauvinist pig,” I shouted over the wind.

“I didn’t know mafia princesses drove themselves around,” he yelled back.

I think he was trying to sneer as he said it, but it kinda lost its effect when he had to shout at the top of his lungs to be heard.

“They do when they sneak out all the fuckin’ time!”

“Take the wheel and switch with me.”

“What are you gonna do?!”

“Deal with our friends,” he shouted.

I grabbed the wheel to keep it steady, waited until he moved past me, then dropped my purse on the passenger side and scooted over into the driver’s seat.

I was freaked out, yeah –

But it was a fuckin’ rush, too. I’d never driven anything this fast before.

I didn’t tell him, that, though. Would’ve undercut the whole You fuckin’ chauvinist pig part.

Massimo grabbed the dead guy’s assault rifle off the bottom of the boat. The fact that it had blood all over it didn’t seem to bother him one bit.

He maneuvered to the back row of seats…

Braced the gun on the top of a headrest…

And fired.

BLAM!

He had it on single mode because there was only one gunshot.

I glanced over my shoulder.

The boat behind us moved farther away, off to the right.

BLAM!

Pause…

BLAM!

Pause…

BLAM!

Massimo was taking his time to aim – like a sniper would.

I glanced back over my shoulder and saw the boat had fallen significantly behind us.

Good.

We were coming up around the southeastern tip of Venice, so I throttled back to make the turn.

“Why the fuck are you slowing down?!” he shouted.

“Because we’ll roll the boat if I take it any faster, you IDIOT!” I shouted back.

“…oh,” he said, then went back to watching our pursuers.

I guess they were far enough away that it wasn’t worth shooting at them, because he came back and crouched next to me in the aisle.

“Move over,” he shouted.

“Fuck you,” I shouted back. “You just keep an eye on the other boat.”

He seemed to grumble – I couldn’t actually hear it over the roaring wind – but he didn’t argue.

As we curved into the straightaway, I hit the throttle again and went back to full speed.

My hair was blowing straight out behind me, we were going so fast.

Ruined my up-do, but fuck if it wasn’t worth it.

“Why aren’t they shooting back at us?” I yelled over the wind.

“Because they don’t want to hit you.”

“Why not?”

“They want you as a bargaining piece.”

“Who are they?”

“Do you know who the Wagner Group is?”

“DUH. I read the news.”

They were the guys who had done most of the Russian fighting in Ukraine – and then nearly taken over Moscow.

“They’re probably Wagner,” he shouted.

“What the fuck do a bunch of Russian mercenaries want with me?”

“The people who ACTUALLY whacked the Agrellas sent them.”

He sounded kind of pissed off as he shouted it.

Probably because I’d yelled the same thing in a hall full of normies.

Fuck him.

He’d spanked me in public.

Asshole.

(Even though a little shiver went through me as I remembered it.)

“So your family DIDN’T whack the Agrellas?” I shouted.

“No.”

“Who did, then?”

“A guy working for my uncle.”

“Uh, HELLO – since when is your uncle not your family?”

“Since he’s trying to whack me and my brothers, too.”

“…oh.”

That must have made for an awkward family get-together.

“How’d those guys in the boat know we were coming?” I shouted.

“Either the shooter at Ca’ Foscari called them, or…” Massimo got a troubled look on his face. “Where’s your phone?”

“In my bag.”

He reached over, rummaged in my Birkin –

“Hey, I didn’t say you could GET IT!” I yelled, but he ignored me.

He pulled out my iPhone –

And then threw it over the side of the boat.

“WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE?!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

“We were tracking you through Find My iPhone,” he shouted over the wind. “If we could do it, they were probably doing it.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!”

“A guy named Giotto betrayed your grandmother. There might be other moles.”

Shit – Giotto had been with us since I came to live with Nona…

Although that didn’t excuse throwing my phone overboard.

“You could’ve just turned it OFF!” I shouted.

“Better to be safe than sorry.”

“You IDIOT – they know we’re going back to my grandmother’s! They don’t even need to track us!”

Massimo got a look on his face like Oh shit, you’re right.

Of course, he didn’t say the ‘you’re right’ part out loud.

Prick.

“We can’t go back, then,” he shouted.

“What the fuck do you mean we can’t go back?!” I yelled. “All you wanted to do before was take me back – now you’re like, ‘Psyyyyych’?!”

“That was before I knew there was another team of mercenaries.”

I was still furious about my phone, but I had a more pressing concern. We were approaching the point where I’d either have to turn left to go to Nona’s –

Or take a completely different route and go someplace else.

“If we’re not going home, then where are we going, genius?” I shouted.

“Can you take us somewhere on the mainland? Someplace not heavily populated?”

Venice lay to the west, on our left. The island of Murano was in the distance ahead of us, and the island of Le Vignole was to the northeast.

Between the latter two were a series of smaller islands – and plenty of channels that led to the huge stretch of water between Venice and the mainland.

“Yeah, I can do that. What about the guys behind us?”

He looked. “It doesn’t seem like they’re following us. There’s probably more of them lying in wait near your grandmother’s palazzo.”

“Fuck ‘em, then,” I shouted as I steered the boat north – away from Venice.

13

Massimo

I had driven boats all my life – although sporadically. It was the result of lots of vacations on the shores of the Mediterranean, usually at the homes of Cosa Nostra allies – all of whose mansions came equipped with yachts and motorboats. And then there were the adrenaline-fueled years of my late teens and early 20s when my brothers and I would rent speedboats at party destinations like Ibiza and Mykonos.

Despite all that experience, Lucia was better than me. ‘Sneaking out’ had let her practice constantly, and she appeared to be just as much a risk-taker as me or any of my brothers. Plus she knew the geography of Venice – and all its surrounding islands – a thousand times better than I did.

She’d retrieved a pair of high-dollar sunglasses from her purse and now looked like she was out for a fun day trip.

“Okay, where specifically do you want to go?” she asked. “A town, the airport – what?”

She meant l’Aeroporto di Venezia Marco Polo – Marco Polo Airport – a small regional airport with only two runways. Flights were sparse because it was far more convenient for the average Venetian to ride the train to nearby cities. Most people only used Marco Polo as a connecting flight to bigger airports for international travel.

But I had flown in that morning on my family’s private jet, and it was sitting in a rented hanger awaiting my return.

My visit to the Widow was only supposed to have lasted a couple of hours. The plan had been to talk to her, turn around, and immediately fly home.

Things had changed just slightly.

“We can get to the airport by water?” I asked, surprised.

“More or less. There’s a canal that goes right up by the runway.”

That was definitely an option.

The biggest problem was if Fausto had known I was going to go see the Widow…

Then he definitely knew my family’s plane was at the airport.

Which meant there might be mercenaries waiting… or, at the very least, moles to identify us on our arrival. There was no telling what kind of trap I might be walking into.

Not to mention that I would have to clear it with the Widow if I wanted to take Lucia with me. Otherwise, it really would look like I was kidnapping her.

But after saving the old woman’s life, I didn’t see her having a problem with it. A temporary stay in Tuscany was better than fighting our way through a bunch of mercenaries to get Lucia back to the palazzo.

Time to make a couple of phone calls.

However, I would have to cut the engine if I wanted anybody to hear me.

We were approaching two pretty big islands with a gap between them. “What are those up there?” I asked.

“Murano. The left side’s got a town, the right side’s nothing but marshes.”

“Can you hide us up there and kill the engine so I can make a call?”

“Aren’t you worried about the bad guys?”

“I’ll keep a lookout, but I don’t think they’re following us.”

We headed towards the island on the left with the town. As we got closer, I realized Murano was like a much smaller, plainer version of Venice.

We approached a long stretch of two-story brick buildings that looked like the exterior of a little-used warehouse. Several piers were attached to the buildings, so Lucia pulled up next to one and shut off the engine.

Niccolo or the Widow – who to call first?

I opted for Niccolo, just in case he had a bigger strategy I wasn’t privy to.

He answered on the first ring.

“Are you alright?” he asked in a strained voice.

“I’m fine. There was a shootout with more mercenaries at the university, but I got the Widow’s granddaughter out.”

I realized I had just used the old lady’s nickname in front of Lucia. Not exactly the kind of respectful aura I’d been trying to project.

“Uh, Signora Fioretti’s granddaughter,” I amended.

I glanced up at Lucia. She just smirked at me like I KNOW you’re full of shit.

I grimaced and looked away.

“Good, I’m glad you’re alright,” Niccolo said. “But before we continue, I have some bad news.”

“What?” I asked warily.

“A sniper shot at the house half an hour ago.”

He meant our family’s mansion.

My heart froze in my chest. “Did anyone – ”

“Everybody’s fine. He was using explosive-tipped bullets to get past the bullet-proof glass, but it held – at least for the first shot. Everyone had already scattered by the time the second shot blew out the window.”

“Who was he targeting?”

“Dario, naturally. It could have been a LOT worse – Adriano and Bianca had just returned from a picnic about 20 minutes before it happened. The sniper could have killed them both if he’d run across them.” Niccolo gave a sardonic laugh. “In typical Adriano fashion, he got pissed off about the shooting and said they should have just gone to Crete for their honeymoon – that it would have been safer.”

A shiver ran down my spine. “What about the sniper? Did you kill him?”

“Lars is out looking for him right now with some of the men, and we’re checking all the camera feeds on the estate. But we’ve basically gone to the mattresses.”

‘Going to the mattresses’ was slang for everyone hunkering down with a siege mentality. It came from a family’s foot soldiers dragging all the mattresses in the house into a central room when there was a war going on with a rival.

“Although I guess in our case, we’ve ‘gone to the safe rooms,’” Niccolo joked.

“So maybe not the best idea for me to come home.”

“About that,” Niccolo said grimly. “I also got a call ten minutes ago that your plane got torched.”

“What?!”

“Somebody fired a rocket-powered grenade into the hanger. Fausto’s little mercenaries have been busy.”

“They blew up the Gulfstream?!”

Lucia looked over in alarm.

“They didn’t COMPLETELY destroy it, but it won’t be flying anytime soon. One wing and engine are all fucked up. Luckily Pietro and the crew weren’t aboard when it happened.”

Pietro was our family’s pilot.

“Adriano was pissed about his honeymoon, and now Roberto’s pissed about the plane. He’s currently yelling at the insurance company because they’re claiming our ‘Acts of War and Terrorism’ rider doesn’t cover the situation. What a life.” Niccolo laughed sardonically, then grew serious. “Unfortunately, it means we can’t get you out of Venice anytime soon. Not until I can charter another private plane out of there… and to be honest, I’m not sure THAT’S completely safe. We have no idea who we can trust right now, or if Fausto’s goons will show up with more explosives.”

“Alright… good to know,” I muttered.

“We’ll extract you as soon as we can. In the meantime, do whatever’s necessary to stay safe and keep the Widow on our side.”

“Understood.”

“Call if there are any developments.”

“Tell everyone I’m glad they’re okay.”

“Will do. Stay safe.”

As soon as I hung up, Lucia started peppering me with questions. “What happened?”

“My uncle hired a sniper to try to kill my brother. And they blew up my family’s jet.”

“You have a jet?”

I glared at her. “You’re asking about the jet and not my brother?”

“If anything happened to him, you wouldn’t have said ‘try to kill my brother,’” she retorted. “And you wouldn’t have brought up the jet at all.”

She had a point.

“So you’ve got a jet?” she repeated.

“You don’t?” I asked snarkily.

Lucia snorted. “Nona doesn’t like to travel.” Then she grew serious. “Is everybody in your family okay?”

“Yes. For the moment, anyway.”

“That’s good…”

It was a nice shift in her demeanor. She could be almost pleasant when she put her mind to it.

“We need to call your grandmother,” I said.

“That would be so much easier if some fuckhead hadn’t thrown my phone overboard,” Lucia said with mock sweetness.

The bitchy little brat was back.

I glared at her but didn’t dignify her insult with a response. “What’s your grandmother’s phone number?”

“She doesn’t have one. Her little minions hand her one if she needs it.”

“Alright, what’s one of their phone numbers?”

“I don’t know. They were all programmed into my phone… which somebody threw overboard.”

I sighed. I was getting weary of this game.

“Don’t you have ANY way to contact her?”

Lucia rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course. There’s the main house number – they’ll patch you through.”

She gave me the number. I called and immediately got an operator who gave me a generic greeting.

“This is Massimo Rosolini – ” I said.

“PUT HIM THROUGH TO NONA!” Lucia yelled at the top of her lungs.

I glared at her. She just smiled back sweetly.

The operator must have recognized Lucia’s voice because he said, “Please hold.”

About ten seconds later, I heard the Widow’s voice.

“Signor Rosolini?”

“Signora,” I greeted her.

“You have my granddaughter?”

I could hear the anxiety in her voice.

“Yes, we’re safe. We’re close to – ”

“Don’t tell me – I don’t want to know,” she interrupted. “The walls have ears.”

Smart. If there were multiple traitors in her organization, one might have bugged the phones.

“The shootout at Ca’ Foscari is all over the television,” she continued. “I was afraid that…”

She trailed off. There was no need to finish the sentence.

“We’re fine,” I reassured her. “Lucia’s not hurt. Now we just need to figure out how I can get her back to you safely.”

“I fear I need to ask you a favor, Signor Rosolini.”

“Anything.”

“I want you to take Lucia to your family’s estate. We can see boats patrolling the water outside our palazzo. I believe it’s more mercenaries, which means there’s no way to get Lucia back here safely. And even if you COULD return her, I might have more traitors. I can’t risk her safety until I’ve rooted out any moles.”

“There’s a problem, Signora.”

“Which is?”

“My own family was attacked 30 minutes ago by a sniper. No one was hurt, but they haven’t caught the gunman yet. And Fausto’s mercenaries also blew up my plane.”

“My, your uncle’s a busy man,” she said drily.

“That he is. The upshot is, I’m not going home anytime soon… and it wouldn’t be safe for Lucia even if I could take her.”

“But you’ll have to go SOMEWHERE, yes? Don’t tell me where – but you WILL go somewhere until you can rejoin your family, won’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Wherever you go, will you take her with you and keep her safe?”

The prospect of being this little brat’s bodyguard was not appealing – at ALL –

But I knew I had to secure the Widow’s cooperation if my family was to have any chance of withstanding the coming war with Fausto and the rest of the Five Families.

“Yes, of course,” I replied.

“Thank you.” The Widow sounded relieved. “Put me on speakerphone so Lucia can hear me.”

I complied.

“Lucia?”

“Hi, Nona. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, my dear. Are YOU alright?”

“Other than being shot at by assholes and getting my ass spanked by the giant prick you sent after me, I’m fine.”

My eyes bugged out as soon as she said ‘spanked.’

I bared my teeth at her in a snarl and shook my head violently.

Lucia just snickered –

Especially when the Widow asked in a confused voice, “I’m sorry – I don’t think I heard you correctly – did you say – ”

“Oh!” Lucia exclaimed. “AND he threw my fuckin’ phone in the water!”

“Language, young lady,” the Widow snapped.

“Well, he did,” Lucia pouted.

“But are you unharmed?”

I was afraid Lucia was going to bring up the spanking again –

But she only said, “I’m fine, Nona.”

“Alright, good. Now, listen to me very carefully. I want you to go with Signor Rosolini wherever he deems appropriate. He will keep you safe. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Lucia replied sullenly.

“I want you to obey him at all times, do you understand?”

I’d only known the girl 30 minutes, and even I knew that was a ridiculous request.

Lucia laughed. “Uhhhhhh, NO. Hard pass.”

“LUCIA,” the old woman snapped, turning on that imperious attitude she was famous for. “This is a matter of life and death. Signor Rosolini saved me from assassins, and I know he can protect you – so you are to do EXACTLY as he tells you. Do I make myself clear?”

“Okaaaaay, fine, WHATEVER,” Lucia said snottily, like a teenager who was giving in – but not willingly.

“Good. Signor Rosolini?”

“Yes?”

“Call with updates, but never tell us where you are. Just in case. Keep my granddaughter safe, and I will forever be in your debt.”

“I’ll guard her with my life, Signora.”

“…alright. Goodbye, my darling. And Godspeed, Signore.”

The old lady ended the call.

“Wowwwwww, that was dramatic,” Lucia deadpanned.

I scowled at her.

Despite having nearly been kidnapped – or killed – she was treating this all as a joke.

“Alright, BOSS,” she said sarcastically, “where to?”

The airport was no longer an option.

And I didn’t care to hide out in a city where I didn’t know the lay of the land –

Especially when my enemy appeared to be all around me.

I had an idea of where we could go…

But we would require transportation.

“Can you get us to the mainland?” I asked.

“Where specifically on the mainland? Train station, a town, or – ”

“Someplace we can find a car,” I said. “Preferably a choice of cars.”

“If you want to rent one, the airport’s probably your best bet for 300 miles.”

I smiled grimly. “We won’t be renting it.”

14

We headed southeast, weaving our way around smaller islands. Our destination was a peninsula that formed a breakwater between the Venetian Lagoon and the Adriatic Sea. The goal was to find a town, ditch the boat, steal a car, and then drive north.

But first, I had to dispose of a body. Wouldn’t be a good idea to enter a marina with a dead man on board.

I checked his pockets for ID. Nothing.

I stripped all the ammunition and weapons off the corpse. In addition to another couple magazines for the automatic rifle, I got a Sig Sauer pistol and a long knife, both of which I set aside.

Then I had Lucia enter some marshes, and I heaved him overboard. He bobbed and floated, but his body armor was heavy. I knew he would sink as water filled his lungs, and it was doubtful the body would resurface. Plus, there weren’t any other boats within miles of us, so no one would see as we left him behind.

Next, I searched the compartments on the boat. No weapons, but there was a tarp that would be good for concealing the assault rifle. I figured I would hide it while we searched for a car, then double back around for it as we left.

Also, I found a jug for bailing out water – which I planned to use for the exact opposite of bailing out water.

As we approached the peninsula, I had Lucia slow the boat to a crawl, at which point I used the jug to dump gallons of water onto the floor. Even if I left the blood untouched, nobody would see it until we were long gone – but there was no need to leave behind clues if I could avoid it. I didn’t need the police looking for a tall man and a tiny woman in connection with a shooting.

The water diluted the blood, and an electrical pump in the floor sucked it out and spat it into the canal. It was still a mess, but at least everything looked slightly pinkish instead of bright red.

As we approached the mainland, I wrapped the assault rifle and ammunition inside the tarp and hid the bundle in the compartment under the seats. In case we couldn’t return to the boat, I put the Sig Sauer and knife in my jacket.

Then I found a rag and wiped down every surface we had touched – other than the steering wheel. That would come last.

When we reached the mainland, Lucia docked us at a pier close to a town. I tied up the boat, Lucia wiped her prints off the steering wheel, and we set off for the next stage of our adventure together.

…God help me.

15

Lucia

We were headed for a little town called Treporti. It was small compared to Venice, but I figured it would have enough cars to choose from.

While Massimo dumped the body and cleaned up the blood, I concentrated on driving the boat –

And tried not to think about my grandmother.

I didn’t understand why, but our last conversation really bothered me.

Not the bossing me around or expecting me to obey Massimo part (which was not going to happen, by the way – fuck that noise).

I think it was the realization that…

That maybe it was the last time I would ever talk to her again.

(don’t think like that STOP it)

She’d already been attacked by assassins…

And if she didn’t think it was safe for me to come home… how dangerous was it for her, exactly?

(they might kill her next time they try)

(STOP it)

I kept flashing back to when I was six years old, sitting in the backseat of the car, right after the crash of metal and the tinkle of glass –

(STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT)

I pushed all of that out of my head.

We had more pressing problems at the moment –

Including what my dumbass bodyguard wanted to do.

“You’re really going to steal a car?” I asked as we walked down the dock where we’d moored the boat.

He smirked. “Does that offend you?”

The way he acted like he was a badass – and I was some little church mouse shocked by the big, strong mafioso – annoyed the fuck out of me.

“Uh, NO, idiot. After I snuck out the first few times, Nona had her thugs start locking our boats up – so the only option I had was to steal somebody else’s.”

“Then why did you sound so surprised?”

“I was surprised you knew how to steal a car. Unless you’re planning to carjack somebody.”

“No, I’m not going to carjack anybody,” he said, sounding like he was the one who was offended. “And I grew up in the Cosa Nostra. Of course I know how to steal a car.”

“I grew up in the Cosa Nostra, too, and I don’t know how to steal a car,” I pointed out.

“Because you grew up on an island without cars,” he said in a know-it-all voice.

Which annoyed me even more, because… okay, yeah, it was an obvious point.

“I’m just saying, just because you grew up in the mafia doesn’t mean you automatically know shit,” I retorted.

“But you know how to hotwire a boat, apparently.”

I scoffed. “Nobody has to hotwire a boat in Venice. Lots of people leave their fuckin’ keys in the ignition.”

He frowned. “Wait a second – have you even driven a car before?”

“No,” I said in a super-sweet voice laced with cyanide, “I grew up on an island without cars, remember?”

A brief flash of annoyance lit up his face, but otherwise he didn’t react to my tone of voice. “Not even on vacations?”

“What vacations? I lived almost my entire life with an old woman who doesn’t like the sun and was worried we’d get assassinated anywhere we went outside of Venice.”

“Oh.”

He sounded sad, like I’d just told him that I’d never had a pet.

Which was actually true, other than a couple of goldfish and a tiny turtle I’d named Henry (after the actor Henry Cavill, who I had a huge crush on when I was 12).

Nona hated animals. She said they left hair everywhere. Hence the turtle and goldfish.

I would have killed for a puppy growing up… or a kitten…

“If you never left Venice, have you ever ridden in a car before?” he asked.

It was a stupid question. Of course I’d ridden in a car – I wasn’t from some remote tribe in the Amazon.

But before I could answer, I flashed back to when I was six.

The sound of the crash –

The stillness afterwards –

The roar of the motorcycle pulling up next to us –

“Yes,” I said abruptly as I pushed the memory out of my head. “But… aren’t cars all electronic now? With alarm systems and computers and shit?”

“Some are,” he admitted.

“So, what – are you some kind of computer hacker/car thief?”

“I’ll be looking for something older. Something without any computers.”

That probably wouldn’t be too hard. Treporti was a small town and not rich. Most of the cars would be pretty old.

We walked past the shop selling tickets for the ferry to Venice, a convenience store, and a tourist trap with a display of polished sea shells. We got some weird looks from the locals, which I guess was to be expected. It wasn’t every day they saw a giant in a designer suit and a rich chick with a Birkin bag just out for a stroll.

We left the tiny town and kept going until we reached a long row of cars parked on the side of the road. I guess it was for people who wanted to stroll the pedestrian we were walking along, because there wasn’t a beach. Access to the water was blocked by a chain-link fence.

Massimo passed by car after car, studying each one.

I guess he found one he liked because he crossed the road and went over to an ugly blue car. The paint was faded off in patches and the doors were all dinged up. The thing must have been 40 year old – and not in a classic sports car good kind of way.

“You’ve gotta be kidding,” I complained as I followed along behind him.

“Why?” he asked as he tried both the driver’s side doors. They were both locked.

“Can’t you get something nicer?”

“‘Nicer’ means ‘newer,’ and newer is harder to hotwire. Stand in front of me.”

“Why?”

“To cover me while I break the window.”

“There’s nobody around – ”

“Just do it.”

I sighed and got into place. Then I looked out at the water, which was only 40 feet away –

Until I heard a crunch and the tinkle of glass.

I flinched –

(I’m 6 years old and sitting in the back seat – broken glass is everywhere and pieces are all over me – )

(STOP STOP STOP)

– and whirled around nervously.

Massimo had a key chain in his hand, but there was a tiny pointed spike on the metal ring.

Next to him, the car window was completely devoid of glass.

“What’s that?!” I asked, shocked.

“Tools of the trade,” he said as he unlocked the car from the inside. “A single point can break car glass with almost no effort at all. Go around.”

I went around the car as he brushed the broken glass off the seat onto the ground, got in, and adjusted the driver’s seat.

Even with it back as far as it would go, his legs were crammed up next to the wheel. He looked like a regular-sized person in a clown car.

He leaned over and unlocked the passenger door so I could get in. Then he took out the knife he’d pulled off the mercenary’s body and used it to pop off a plastic compartment under the steering wheel.

He fiddled with some wires – and ten seconds later, the engine roared to life.

Well, ‘roared’ is a bit strong.

More like ‘coughed and wheezed to life.’

He looked over at me, oh so pleased with himself – like I told you so.

“Wow,” I said in a flat voice. “Great. You stole a piece of shit on wheels. Congratulations.”

He glowered at me, backed the car out, and we started down the road.

16

Massimo

This girl was seriously pissing me off.

She complained about EVERYTHING – even down to the car we were stealing.

Seriously?!

What the fuck did she think we were going to get – a Bentley?

And the attitude –

The sarcasm –

The constant eye-rolling –

I wanted to bend her over my knee and smack the shit out of her ass.

I put that out of my mind, though.

I couldn’t have her telling the Widow about that sort of thing.

And…

Well…

She had a fantastic ass, which made me think about it all the more.

I’d rather enjoyed spanking her back at the university – and not just putting her in her place, either.

The feel of my palm slapping her ass cheeks –

The jiggle of her flesh under my hand –

But that was over.

Done with.

From here on out, it was pure professionalism.

I had to get us both to safety, which meant I needed to ignore her bitchy little comments and princess-like behavior.

I reminded myself that as annoying as she was, she couldn’t touch Adriano for sheer assholery.

You’re a Zen fuckin’ master.

Remember that.

I propped my phone up in the ashtray so I could see Google Maps. Luckily, there was only change inside the tray and no cigarette butts.

Thank God for small favors.

I had to be vigilant about my phone battery, which was at about a 60% charge. I could get a charging cord somewhere along the way, maybe when we stopped for gas – but for now, it was more important to put some distance between us and Venice.

The car had half a tank of gas. Enough to get us 40 or 50 miles down the road, at the very least.

I took a bypass road away from the town.

“Aren’t you going to go back and get the gun?” Lucia asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t want to take a chance that the guy who owns this car is in town and might spot us. The last thing I need is for him to call a cop over, and then the cop asks me what’s in the tarp I’m carrying back from the boat.”

Lucia smiled smugly. “Pussy. Grow a pair.”

I clenched my jaw but let it pass.

Zen fuckin’ master… Zen fuckin’ master…

I hated leaving the assault rifle behind – it would come in handy if the mercenaries tracked us down – but the risk of retrieving it was too big.

Besides, I’d have other weapons at my disposal.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

After her ‘pussy’ crack, I thought about telling her to go fuck herself –

But that wouldn’t have been very ‘Zen master’ of me.

“The mountains north of here.”

“Really,” she said – and I noted the complete absence of sarcasm in her voice.

She almost sounded excited.

“You’ve seen mountains before, right?” I asked.

She shot me a look. “Old lady who doesn’t like the sun and thought we’d get killed if we left Venice – remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” I tried to be compassionate. “Sounds lonely.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” she muttered as she stared out the window.

I gritted my teeth.

Zen fuckin’ master –

You’re a Zen fuckin’ master –

My phone buzzed from its place in the ashtray.

I looked down to see who it was –

And my stomach sank.

“Who’s Aurelio?” Lucia asked as she read the name on the screen. She could tell by my face that I wasn’t happy.

“My cousin,” I said. “He and my uncle are behind everything that happened today.”

Her eyes widened. “Your uncle and cousin are trying to kill you?!”

“Yeah.”

“Wow, and I thought I had a rough family…” She paused as the phone continued to vibrate. “Are you going to answer it?”

I didn’t want to…

But I decided that wasn’t really an option.

I answered the call and put the phone to my ear.

“Aurelio,” I said neutrally.

“Massimo. What, are you in a fucking wind tunnel?”

I was driving pretty slowly – the posted speed limit was low since we were still inside the town’s boundaries – but the air coming through the broken window was getting picked up by the phone.

Which meant Aurelio could probably figure out I was in a car.

He might have initially thought I was in a boat, but there weren’t any water sounds.

I cursed myself for not thinking of it sooner and stopping the car to talk to him –

But there was nothing I could do about it now.

“Yeah, I am,” I said. “What’s up?”

“Did you have a nice morning?” he asked sardonically.

Was he quasi-admitting to what he’d done?

Or just being his normal dickish self?

“It’s had its ups and downs,” I said neutrally.

“I’m sure.”

Okay, he was trolling me. It was obvious at this point.

“Why don’t we drop the pretenses and skip the bullshit.”

I was halfway expecting him to say I have no idea what you’re talking about –

But he surprised me.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Excellent. By the way, I enjoyed shooting your mercenaries. Do you have to pay anything extra to Wagner when you get their men killed?”

If it surprised him that I knew where he’d gotten his hired guns, he didn’t let on.

“If you thought THAT was bad, just wait to see what’s coming.”

“I think you misheard me. It wasn’t bad – it was pathetic.”

“I thought we were skipping the bullshit.”

“I never said anything about skipping the gloating.”

“Have you got the girl?”

Ah.

So there it was.

I ignored him. “I want to speak to Fausto.”

“No. You’re going to LISTEN.”

I frowned.

Something seemed off.

If I couldn’t speak to Fausto – if it was physically impossible – then Aurelio would have said something like He’s not here.

If Aurelio just didn’t want to give in to my demands to speak to his father, he probably would have told me to go fuck myself.

But this…

It sounded like Aurelio didn’t want me to speak to Fausto.

“Did you do this?” I asked, stunned. “Does Fausto even know about it?”

“Shut up and listen – ”

“Did you go rogue, you fucking idiot?!”

“Give me the girl and I’ll drop everything. All the attacks against you and your brothers will go away.”

“And what if I don’t?” I sneered.

“Then I’ll rain down hell on all of you.”

“If a botched sniper attack and a bunch of inept Russians are supposed to scare me, you can go fuck yourself.”

“I’ll have the Widow within hours – and if you don’t hand the girl over, I’ll cut the old lady up piece by piece. Tell her granddaughter THAT.”

I figured it was a bluff.

Regardless, I couldn’t risk Lucia hearing it. It would fuck with her head –

So I just ended the call.

“Go fuck yourself, cousin,” I said and hung up.

Lucia stared at me. “What was that all about?”

“Oh, my cousin was just being a prick. As usual.”

“Assassination attempts are the usual?”

“They’re becoming surprisingly more and more common.”

Her expression darkened. “Did he want you to turn me over?”

“Of course.”

“And what did he offer in exchange?”

“A box of chocolates and a pony.”

She snorted in amusement. “And what did you say?”

“I don’t give a shit about ponies.”

“What if he doubled up on the chocolate?”

“He’d have to triple up at the very least.”

“Good to know.”

The phone rang. It was Aurelio again.

Before I could do anything, Lucia grabbed the phone.

I tried to control my panic.

If Aurelio told her his threats against the Widow –

“Hey, is this Aurelio?” she asked cheerfully.

He gave some sort of answer I couldn’t hear.

“And you’re behind all this shit?”

Another answer.

“Good, nice to meet you,” she replied. “Now suck my dick.”

And she hung up.

Relief washed through me – not to mention amusement.

It was nice hearing her potty mouth aimed at somebody besides me for once.

I particularly enjoyed imagining the confusion and rage on my cousin’s face right about now.

“We should probably download the GPS coordinates to wherever we’re going and put the phone on Airplane mode,” Lucia suggested. “Just in case he has some way of tracking us.”

I thought about calling Niccolo and letting him know about Aurelio’s threats –

But it wouldn’t really change anything.

Fausto possibly being out of the loop was interesting –

But it was an assumption on my part, nothing more. I could tell Niccolo about my theories later. He had enough to deal with at the moment.

“Sounds good,” I said. “Can you download it for me?”

“Okay,” she said.

She was quiet while she downloaded the information.

I enjoyed the silence while it lasted –

But it didn’t last long.

17

The trip lasted three hours.

It felt more like 15 with all the complaining.

First, she turned on the radio and skipped past a half-dozen good songs until she found some godawful bubblegum pop music.

I lasted about five minutes before I couldn’t stand it anymore. I switched the dial to an American classic rock station she’d skipped past.

“HEY, I was listening to that!” she shouted.

“Yeah, and it was shit,” I snapped.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Led Zeppelin, ‘Whole Lotta Love.’”

That’s the thing about Italy and most of Europe: at least 50% of the music is American. I’d grown up listening to American rock ‘n roll – especially stuff from the 60s and 70s – because my father had loved it.

“Okay, Grandpa,” Lucia scoffed. “How old are you, anyway?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Jesus – you’re only four years older than me, but you have the musical tastes of a fuckin’ Boomer.”

What she actually said was in Italian, so it was, “Hai solo quattro anni più di me, ma hai i gusti musicali di un fottuto Boomer.”

I wasn’t familiar with that last word.

“…Boomer?”

“Jesus, you don’t even know what that is?” she asked contemptuously.

“No,” I said, my blood pressure slowly rising. “I don’t.”

“In the US, they call old people ‘Boomers.’”

“Why?”

“What the fuck am I, a dictionary? Google it.”

“Where did you hear it?”

“Where the fuck do you think I heard it, bitch?” She started counting off on her fingers. “TikTok – YouTube – Instagram – ”

“You should watch your mouth.”

“Why – does it offend you that a girl talks like you and your little mafia buddies do all the fucking time?”

I was going to say, My ‘mafia buddies’ don’t talk like that –

But then I remembered how much Adriano and Valentino cursed. And Niccolo, too, when he was riled up.

So I decided not to go there.

But I did have another objection. Her saying ‘bitch’ reminded me of it.

“You curse at inappropriate times.”

“Ohhhhhhh… so I’m ‘inappropriate,’ am I,” she said in a mock sympathetic voice, nodding like she deeply empathized with my plight. “I use bad words ‘inappropriately.’ If only I could learn to use them appropriately – like you! – then you might approve of me, huh?”

“You called your grandmother a bitch.”

Lucia scrunched up her face in shocked outrage. “No, I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did.”

“WHEN did I call my grandmother a bitch?”

“On your cell phone message.”

“What?!”

“You said something like, ‘Leave a message, bitch!’”

Lucia burst out laughing.

I glared at her.

“I wasn’t calling her a bitch, dumbass – I was quoting a television show. Or paraphrasing it, if you wanna get technical. Plus, technically, I’m calling everybody a bitch who listens to the message, so it wasn’t specifically my grandmother I was calling a – ”

“What television show?”

“‘Breaking Bad,’” she said, then started talking in English like a stoner. “This is my own private domicile and I will not be harassed… bitch!”

I looked at her like she had grown a second head.

“Jesse Pinkman?… Walter White?… ‘I am the one who knocks’?!” She seemed shocked by my ignorance. Then she rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you don’t know ‘Breaking Bad.’”

“I don’t have time to watch TV.”

“It’s on Netflix, not TV – and it’s an old fucking show, dude. I watched it when I was, like, twelve.”

“What’s it about?” I asked. I had never heard of this American concept of breaking bad things. Or bad breaks, or whatever.

“It’s about this high school chemistry teacher in America who gets cancer and starts cooking meth with a student of his,” she said nonchalantly.

I looked at her in horror. “You watched that when you were twelve?!”

She snorted. “You probably killed a dude when you were twelve.” Then she narrowed her eyes and leaned towards me like a district attorney. “Didn’t you.”

“NO,” I said defensively.

“What – thirteen, then? Fourteen?”

“No – ”

“Fifteen?”

“…sixteen,” I grumbled.

She rolled her eyes again and shook her head in disgust. “And you have the fuckin’ nerve to lecture ME on what I watch and how I speak. Fuckin’ typical Italian male chauvinistic bullshit.”

“The man I shot was trying to kill my family,” I snarled.

“Whatever.”

I noticed she got quiet after that.

We drove without speaking for several minutes. Then she asked, “What do you watch, anyway?”

“I told you, I don’t have time to watch things on – on Netflix.”

I caught myself before I said ‘TV,’ since that would only get me another eye-roll – and every time she rolled her eyes, I wanted to strangle her.

“I bet you watch football,” she said scornfully.

She meant what Americans call soccer.

“Well, yeah – when Fiorentina or Juventus is playing,” I said, naming two of my favorite teams.

“So you DO have time to watch shit on television!”

“Only once in a while!” I snapped. “And I haven’t watched anything in six months.”

I didn’t mention that six months ago was when my father died, and my brothers and I had to take over the family business.

There hadn’t been time for anything other than that.

“What was the last thing you watched, then?” she challenged me. “And NOT football.”

I had to think about that one.

“I bet it was something about the mafia, wasn’t it,” she said with a knowing grin, like she had me all figured out.

“No – ”

“Okay, maybe not the Cosa Nostra, but some other gangsters, then. ‘Peaky Blinders’?”

“What?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re a grandpa – you don’t even know what Netflix is.”

“I know what Netflix i– ”

“The Godfather?”

“I haven’t seen The Godfather in years.”

“Scarface?”

“Pacino’s great in that,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, he was,” she agreed off-handedly, like she couldn’t argue. Then she snapped her fingers. “I know – ‘The Sopranos.’”

I didn’t answer, but my face must have given me away, because she laughed in delight.

“HA! It was ‘The Sopranos,’ wasn’t it?! That show is older than shit, dude. You really ARE a fuckin’ Boomer.”

I noticed, though, that the entire time she was mocking me…

She never changed the channel on the radio.

18

She might not have changed the channel, but that didn’t stop the complaining.

“I’m hungryyyyyyy.”

After five minutes of her whining, I stopped to get gas at a tiny, out-of-the-way gas station. While I did that, she went to the restroom.

Before we left, I bought a bottle of water and a cheap charging cord for my phone to stick into the cigarette lighter.

Lucia got an energy drink and an armful of junk food, which she proceeded to eat with her shoes off and her feet up on the dashboard.

“I’m BORED,” she announced.

“Too bad,” I said.

“Can I watch something on your phone?” she asked as she picked it up off the ashtray.

“NO,” I said. “I need the GPS. Plus, I don’t have anything on my phone.”

“There’s this thing called ‘the internet’ where you can download stuff. Have you heard of it, Boomer?”

“Put the fucking phone down,” I snapped.

“It’d probably take forever to download anything, anyway,” she grumbled as she looked at Google Maps. “Which mountains are we going to?”

“The Dolomites.”

“Oh,” she said absentmindedly.

“You’ve heard of them?”

She shot me some side-eye. “Of course.”

They were a relatively famous mountain range inside Italy.

“Dolomites…” she muttered to herself. “That’s such a weird name.”

“It’s because the mountains are made out of a mineral called dolomite,” I explained. “It’s – ”

“Didn’t ask,” she said, not looking up from my phone.

I gritted my teeth and thought about strangling her. It was becoming my go-to fantasy for getting through the drive.

“Why there?” she asked. “Why not the Alps or something?”

“The Dolomites are part of the Alps.”

She rolled her eyes, then looked at me like I was boring her beyond comprehension. “Okay – why are we going wherever we’re going instead of someplace cool?”

“Because I have a cabin in the Dolomites where we can stay the first night.”

She perked up. “Oh – like, a ski chalet?”

“No, not like a ski chalet.”

She frowned. “So… like a hunting lodge or something?”

“You should reduce your expectations quite a bit.”

The cabin was something I’d bought with my own money. The family’s purchases tended towards the grand side of things – unless we were buying safe houses. Safe houses were in case our men were attacked and needed to hole up somewhere, like Adriano had done in Florence. With safe houses, we tended towards the low-key and unremarkable.

But my cabin was something I’d wanted for me and me alone. I went up there a couple of times a year to get away from my family. I loved them dearly… but sometimes I needed a break. To relax.

Although Lucia was 180 degrees in the opposite direction from a ‘relaxing break.’

“What do you mean, ‘stay the first night’?” she asked suspiciously. “Why not stay there for a while?”

“It’s possible my uncle or cousin knows about it. Not likely, but possible.” I had bought it three years ago while Fausto was still my father’s consigliere, and I’d told the entire family when I purchased it. It was possible Fausto or Aurelio might remember. “I think we should stay one night, then move on.”

“Why the mountains in the first place? Why not Paris?”

“For one, we shouldn’t fly or take a train. Too dangerous. And I’d like to stay close to Venice so we can get to your grandmother quickly. And finally, the mountains are remote… not many people… and we can move through the forest without being detected.”

I didn’t say it out loud, but in my mind I added, Plus there’s lots of cover if anybody starts shooting.

“Great,” she grumbled, but she didn’t bother me any more about the Dolomites.

She just bothered me about everything else.

19

About 30 minutes from our destination, she started complaining about being hungry again.

“I have food at the cabin,” I said.

“What kind of food?” she asked suspiciously.

“Canned food.”

“I want real food.”

“I don’t want to stop.”

“Why not?”

“Because people would remember a tall guy in a suit and a woman in designer clothes,” I pointed out.

“So?”

“So if my cousin sends mercenaries to look for us, I would prefer people not remember where we were.”

“We stopped at a gas station.”

“We had to stop at a gas station,” I said calmly. “We needed gas – and you wanted food, remember?”

“That guy at the register will remember us.”

“That was unavoidable. And it was only 45 minutes into the trip.”

“Are we only going to eat canned food for however long we’re up here? ‘Cause I am telling you right now, that is NOT acceptable.”

I gripped the steering wheel hard and imagined it was her neck.

Her little, scrawny neck…

Zen fuckin’ master –

Zen fuckin’ master –

“We’ll eat canned food until we run out,” I said calmly.

She sniffed haughtily. “I don’t want to be eating crap for three days.”

“It might be longer than three days.”

“WHAT?!” she shouted. “How long?!”

“I don’t know, but you should prepare yourself for – ”

“If it’s gonna be longer than three days, then I definitely want to eat in a real fucking restaurant!”

“Lucia – ”

“You can’t just take me out into the middle of nowhere and – ”

“I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“I don’t CARE! I’d rather DIE than eat nothing but fuckin’ beans out of a can, especially when there’s plenty of good restaurants along the – ”

“ALL RIGHT!” I roared. “ALL RIGHT! WE’LL STOP AT A FUCKING RESTAURANT! ARE YOU SATISFIED?!”

She just smirked. “…yes.”

* * *

She was not satisfied.

It was getting dark when we stopped at a small restaurant nestled in the foothills of the mountains.

I thought the place was rustic but charming, with walls made of rock and exposed wooden beams in the ceiling.

Lucia did not agree.

“Oh God, I’m in a backwoods serial killer movie,” she murmured as she looked around us.

Only a few locals were in the place, and they glanced at us every few minutes.

“God, what are they wearing?” Lucia sneered about their plaid shirts and simple dresses.

“Clothes,” I said coldly.

“Why are they looking at us?”

“Because a tall guy in a suit and a woman in designer clothes stand out,” I said coldly. “Just like I said earlier in the car.”

When the next local glanced at us, Lucia stared back at him openly, her eyes wide as ping pong balls.

The man turned away quickly and didn’t look at her again.

The wine list was not to Lucia’s liking, either. The selection was what you would expect for a tiny mom-and-pop’s in the middle of nowhere.

The by-the-glass prices raised her hackles in particular.

“What is this, boxed wine?” she complained as she looked at the list.

“Don’t be a snob,” I said.

“Yeah, you would say that,” she muttered. “You probably drink it by the box-full.”

“Why do you think it’s boxed wine, anyway?” I asked in irritation.

“It’s, like, 3 euros a glass.”

“Outside the fancy restaurants you’re accustomed to, 3 euros a glass for table wine is pretty common.”

“Cheap wine for poor people,” she muttered.

I fantasized some more about wrapping my hands around her neck and squeezing. Hard.

She didn’t like the menu, either. “There’s nothing good to eat.”

“What are you talking about? There’s steak, and chicken piccata, and three types of pasta – ”

“Yeah, and that’s it.”

“What did you expect in a tiny little town?” I growled. “Caviar and lobster? Lamb chops? Pheasant?”

“I just – ”

“This is not Venice,” I hissed. “This is not Florence. This is not Rome, or Paris, or Barcelona, or anywhere else you might find a three-star Michelin restaurant.”

She scoffed. “More like a negative three-star Michelin restaurant…”

I had had enough.

“YOU are going to order some fucking food,” I said in a harsh whisper. “You are going to EAT your fucking food… and you are going to SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT IT so I can enjoy a few minutes in GODDAMN FUCKING PEACE. Do I make myself clear?”

She looked at me and raised a single eyebrow.

Not like she was afraid; more like I had surprised her the tiniest bit.

“Don’t have a cow, dude.” She paused, then said, “I bet you don’t even know where that’s fr– ”

“I WATCHED THE FUCKING SIMPSONS AS A KID, SO YES, I DO KNOW. NOW SHUT THE FUCK UP,” I whispered so harshly that it was audible to everyone in the restaurant.

We ate in silence.

Everyone else in the restaurant was silent, too.

It was heaven.

20

Heaven did not last.

As we wound along the mountain roads in the dark, cold air spilled through my busted-out window.

I didn’t mind –

But someone did.

“It’s summer!” Lucia complained as she zipped up the front of her red leather jacket. “Why is it so cold?!”

“Because we’re a mile above sea level,” I said as I turned the car’s heater on full blast.

“Ohhhh… that’s nice…” she murmured, putting her hands up to the vents. “Is it always this cold at night?!”

“This is unusually cool for this time of year, but, yeah, it’s generally chilly at night.”

“Wonderful,” she griped.

We passed through the village of Padola on the way to my cabin. It’s a small ski resort during the winter, but during the summer, fewer than a thousand people live there.

My place was up in the woods. As soon as we turned off the main highway onto a gravel road, Lucia freaked out.

“What’s that?!” she cried out.

“What’s what?”

“That crunching, popping sound!”

“We’re driving on gravel.”

She looked at me like I was speaking Mongolian. “Like – little rocks?!”

“Yes – haven’t you ever driven on gravel before?”

“NO, dumbass! I live on an island where you get around by boat! When the fuck would I drive around on a lot of little rocks?!”

I shook my head and sighed.

If she didn’t like the gravel road, she was going to love the cabin.

The gravel quickly gave way to a dirt road – and the car’s shocks were pretty bad.

“What is this?! Why is it so horrible now?!” she cried out.

“We’re on a dirt road.”

“I thought dirt was soft!”

I didn’t say anything and just let her yammer on.

After about 10 minutes, we finally reached my place. I pulled up just outside the front porch.

Lucia sat there, eyes wide, staring at the house in the car’s headlights.

“…are you kidding me?” she asked, stunned.

“Nope. This is it.”

It was a one-story with a sloping tin roof covered with dead pine needles, a crumbling brick chimney off to the side, weathered wood planks on the exterior, and a small front porch with a rickety railing. Everything was built on short columns of stones so that mice would have a harder time getting into the floorboards.

Basically, it was a rustic wood cabin out in the middle of nowhere.

Not something a spoiled rich girl from Venice would care for…

Which was evident from what came next.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” she screamed. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!”

“It’s where we’re staying.”

“I am not staying in a third-world SHACK!”

I gripped the steering wheel and gritted my teeth. “It is not a third-world shack – ”

“Who the fuck would live here?! Inbred mountain weirdoes?!”

“I stay here a week or two every year.”

“You must be an inbred mountain weirdo, then! I thought your family was RICH!”

I frowned. “We do just fine – ”

“Then WHY would you stay here?! Why not just find a CAVE somewhere?! It’d probably be NICER!”

“I told your grandmother I would keep you safe, princess – not get you five-star sleeping accommodations.”

“This is negative five stars! This is negative TEN stars!”

I’d had enough.

“Come on,” I said as I got out of the car.

“NO,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “You’re going to take me back to whatever that little town was we just passed, and we can find a hotel and stay there.”

I leaned over so I could peer through the open window. “We’re staying here tonight.”

“The hell we are.”

“Can you drive a car?” I asked.

She looked at me like I was crazy. “No.”

“Then you’ll have to walk about 10 kilometers to get back there… through the dark and the cold. Better start now if you want to reach it by 4 AM.”

If looks could kill, hers would have disemboweled me. “You son of a bitch.”

I smiled sweetly. “Welcome to my home away from home.”

I turned, walked up the steps to the porch, and started searching for the spare key. I always wedged it in a crack in the wood siding above the door. The hiding spot was seven feet above the ground – so not exactly something most people would be able to find unless they knew where to look.

“I’m sleeping in the car!” she shouted from the passenger seat.

“You’re welcome to,” I called out as I found the key. “Just know there are wolves and bears up here, and they could probably get through that busted-out window. Especially if they were hungry enough.”

There actually weren’t many wild wolves in Italy anymore. The ones still left had to be carefully maintained through conservation efforts.

And the brown bears up here were far more interested in people’s trash cans than the people themselves.

But still, it was fun to say… and it provoked an immediate reaction.

I don’t think I’ve ever heard a car door open faster –

Or slam as loudly.

“I fucking HATE you,” she snarled as she tottered unsteadily towards me on her fancy stilettos.

“Yeah, I figured,” I said as I unlocked the door, flicked on the light, and walked in.

The interior was much nicer than the exterior. I’d kept the outside looking rundown because I liked the natural charm. Plus, it discouraged people from breaking in if they thought it was a shack.

But I’d put tens of thousands of euros into renovating the inside and was pleased with the result.

The floors were hardwood and polished to a sheen.

To the right of the door was a kitchen with a modern electric stove and cooking range. There was also a small refrigerator, though it wasn’t plugged in at the moment, and the door was open so it wouldn’t get musty.

There was a combination eating/living area just beyond the kitchen. No TV or computer – I came out here to disconnect.

Just a simple table, wooden chairs, and a recliner, which sat by a stone fireplace – perfect for relaxing on a cold evening with a glass of good scotch.

Speaking of scotch, there was a bar stocked with alcohol. Good shit, too. That was the only thing people would steal if they broke in.

A short hallway went past a bathroom. The cabin was on well water with a filtration system and a septic tank for the toilet. Despite being out in the woods, I was still on the power grid in Padola.

In the back of the cabin was the bedroom, which contained a king-size bed, a trunk for storage, a wardrobe –

And a massive gun safe in the corner.

That would be important tomorrow.

While I was waiting for Lucia, I went over to a closet that housed the water shutoff valve and circuit breakers. I turned on the water and flicked a few switches for the pump and water heater. Once I heard water begin to flow through the pipes, I closed the closet door.

Lucia pulled off her shoes once she reached the porch, then walked into the cabin and crinkled her nose. “Oh my GOD, it stinks in here.”

It was a tad musty. I’d give her that.

“I’ll open the windows,” I said as I unlatched the one next to the front door.

“I would say, ‘don’t let in the cold air,’ but it’s already cold as fuck,” she complained.

“We’ll make a fire tomorrow morning.”

“Why not now?!”

“Because I’m exhausted, and I’m going to bed.”

“Well where am I going to sleep?!”

“In the same bed.”

“OH NO. Unh-unh. No, you can sleep in that chair over there.”

“YOU can sleep in the recliner if you want, but I’m stiff from driving four hours, and I’m not sleeping in a fucking chair.”

“I should get the bed.”

“There’s plenty of room for both of us – it’s a king-size.”

“I don’t give a shit,” she said in a snotty voice. “I don’t want you perving out on me in the middle of the night.”

I looked at her in disgust. “I just saved you from being kidnapped today. You would think you might show some fucking gratitude and not accuse me of wanting to rape you.”

She gave me a bitter smile. “If I’d known you were going to bring me here, I would have gone with the fucking kidnappers.”

“I can call up my cousin and get that arranged,” I snarled.

“Does your bathroom work, or do I have to use a fucking outhouse?”

“Down the hall,” I snapped.

As she walked towards the bathroom, I started to open a second window –

And then thought, No, fuck this – she can breathe musty air.

Fuck her.

Then I closed the window I’d opened and headed for the bedroom.

21

Lucia

I was pissed.

Not because the house was a shithole, although it was.

…kind of.

It looked horrible from the outside, yes – but to be honest, it was kind of cute on the inside. I’d seen places like it in movies my entire life and had secretly wanted to stay in one since I was a little kid.

Which was not really an option when you grew up as a mafiosa’s granddaughter and lived in a 700-year-old palazzo in Venice.

Once I saw how clean and nice it was on the inside, I was actually kind of excited. I felt like I was a little kid again and got to stay the night in a treehouse from a movie.

I wasn’t about to let him know that, though.

No, I was pissed because he was being a bossy asshole –

Just like every other dumbass mafia thug who worked for my grandmother.

It was gonna be his way or the highway.

I…

can’t…

STAND that.

He didn’t ever ask me once what I wanted.

He was running the show, and that was THAT. He decided everything.

And to be really honest…

If there was one thing I was still super pissed off about, it was that he’d spanked me back at the university.

I was still angry.

He hadn’t apologized, that was for sure.

Yes, okay, he’d saved me from being kidnapped –

But he’d also humiliated me in front of dozens – if not hundreds – of people.

And his attitude!

Like I owed him an infinite number of blowjobs for what he did –

When we both knew he only did it to suck up to my grandmother.

I was a job for him. That was it.

If I wasn’t Nona’s granddaughter and he wasn’t getting something out of it, he would have left me back at Ca’ Foscari to die, and that was the truth.

He’d get what he wanted from Nona when this was all over – whether that was money, a business deal, or whatever mafia bullshit he had in mind.

He’d get his reward. There was no doubt about that.

The point was, he didn’t do any of it for me…

And yet he still expected me to kiss his ass.

His…

Ahem…

Very nice ass.

…okay, I’ll come clean.

…

…he was hot.

And I was kind of into him.

Or I would have been into him if he wasn’t such a prick.

And the fact that I was into him (SORT of)…

And that he was bossing me around…

And acting like HE was the man, and I was some stupid little girl who should just be thankful he’d saved me…

Plus how he’d humiliated me in front of all those people…

(And the weird feeling, which I didn’t want to admit, that I’d kind of liked it when he spanked me…)

You add all that up, and what you got was this:

The motherfucker was gonna pay.

I’d been making him pay ever since we’d left Venice.

Bit by bit…

Drop by drop.

Death by a thousand cuts.

I’d actually really enjoyed today.

Breaking into a car? That was fucking cool.

Driving into the mountains? AWESOME.

Hearing gravel under tires for the first time? I know it’s stupid, but it made me so happy.

Staying in a weird-ass little cabin in the woods? Kind of diggin’ it.

It was like I was getting to live in a Netflix series. So much more interesting than my boring, everyday life.

Dinner had been pretty good, too. Not what I was accustomed to, but I really enjoyed it.

You know what I’d enjoyed even more?

Getting him to flip the fuck out.

He loved pretending he was so calm, and so reasonable, and such a manly man!

Asshole.

All it took was me punching his buttons over and over and over and over –

And he fucking lost it.

HA!

It had taken everything I had not to burst into a grin when he nearly started shouting in the restaurant.

I didn’t want to give it away that this was all a game to me…

Just a way to get back at him.

Plus, I knew from being around my grandmother’s henchmen my entire life how far you could push a guy before he’d go apeshit.

You gotta go right up to the line…

And then back off.

Then, next time, you can go even further…

But then you gotta back off again.

It was a process.

You kept moving the line half an inch every time…

And eventually, you’d drive them absolutely bugfuck insane.

So I let Massimo have his way for a while.

Let him think he’d won.

…and then I would start annoying the hell out of him again.

Some of my reactions were genuine, though.

I was actually pretty shocked when we drove up to the cabin.

I did not want to stay here (at least until I saw the inside). That part had been real.

I guess he’d gotten me to flip out, now that I thought about it…

Which pissed me off, too.

So I wasn’t about to let him know that I was actually okay with the place.

That’s the headspace I was in when I finished up in the bathroom, walked out…

And suddenly shit got real.

22

I’d already planned the next thing I was going to complain about.

There hadn’t been any hot water. In fact, it had been freezing cold when I washed my hands.

So I was going to bitch about that –

When I saw him in the bedroom and stopped in my tracks.

Massimo had pulled off his shoes and socks…

Then taken off his suit and shirt and was hanging them up in the wardrobe.

Which meant he was standing there wearing nothing but black boxer shorts.

And OH…

MY…

GOD.

I’d been attracted to him before.

But seeing him now, half-naked?

I think I spontaneously ovulated.

He was already super tall and handsome –

And I knew from when he threw me over his shoulder that he was incredibly well-built.

But I had no idea.

His muscles…

His arms, his shoulders, his back…

He made Henry Cavill look puny.

He made Chris Hemsworth in the Thor movies look like a runt.

And his abs…

Oh my god, I’ve never seen abs like that.

There was only a tiny lamp in the corner providing any illumination, so the room was just halfway lit –

But his abs were, like, throwing shadows.

DAMN.

His thighs were huge… like small tree trunks…

His calves were big as cantaloupes…

And his ass!

I could’ve just stared at his ass for hours.

It was, like, this amazing bubble butt.

Like, BAM!

Just like, Hey, I’m the perfect ass, Imma hang out here under this guy’s underwear if you wanna cop a feel.

I just wanted to walk over and grab his ass in both hands and squeeze.

Fuck that –

I wanted to BITE it. Sink my teeth into it.

UNH.

He was a little hairy – his chest, arms, and legs, anyway – but not over the top.

I liked that more than I thought I would.

The guys I’d slept with in the past hadn’t been hairy at all. Shaved chests, that sort of thing. Some of them had been pretty hot –

But next to Massimo, they were downright scrawny. Like 13-year-old boys standing next to Mr. Universe.

Massimo finished hanging up his shirt and suit and looked over at me.

“What?” he asked.

I gestured helplessly towards the bathroom.

“The, uh… the water’s…”

I couldn’t form a coherent sentence, so I just abandoned the thought.

“Is that the bed?” I asked, prying my eyes away from his body.

“Yes, that’s the bed,” he said in a voice like Duh, you IDIOT.

That sparked my temper and snapped me out of my daze.

Fuckin’ asshole.

You’re gonna pay for that.

“Are you through in the bathroom?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. I tried to sound bitchy, but didn’t quite pull it off because I got distracted by his abs again.

God damn him for being so hot.

“Alright, I’m going to take a leak and then I’m going to bed,” he said as he brushed past me.

I was going to say something like TMI – too much information…

But his massive arm brushed against me –

His giant, sculpted, bare arm.

That was just as naked as 90% of the rest of him.

And I kind of forgot about everything else.

“Okay,” I said as I watched him go past me and disappear into the bathroom.

Actually, I didn’t watch HIM disappear into the bathroom so much as I watched his ass disappear into the bathroom.

It was only when the door slammed shut that the spell was broken.

Okay, FUCK that guy.

He thinks HE’S hot?

YOU’RE hot, too.

Let’s fuck ‘im up.

I had one card up my sleeve that I knew he couldn’t beat, no matter what:

I was the granddaughter of la Vedova – the Widow of Venice.

I didn’t care how many kidnappers he’d saved me from.

If he so much as touched me, Nona would cut his dick off and put his balls in a jar.

And he knew it.

And that was how I was going to make him pay.

I grinned.

This was going to be fun.

23

Massimo

I splashed my face with cold water.

I needed it to regain my composure.

The way she’d been looking at me…

I mean, the girl had been eye-fucking me. No question about it.

Normally that would have made me smirk. It was a little bit of power I could hold over her.

And I did enjoy reducing the bratty little mafia princess to a wide-eyed, tongue-tied simpleton.

But…

FUCK.

She was annoying as hell, yes –

But she was also gorgeous.

And when she was staring at me with those huge, beautiful eyes…

And I could feel her gaze trailing across my body…

I started to get hard.

And I couldn’t let her see that.

Couldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she turned me on –

Because then she’d know it was a little piece of power she held over me.

I tried to concentrate on all the times she’d pissed me off that day.

All the times she’d made me want to strangle her.

But all I could think of was her open mouth while she was staring at me…

That pouty little lower lip of hers…

Her raised eyebrows…

Her beautiful brown eyes trailing over my –

SHIT.

I was getting hard again.

I dropped my boxers and doused my cock with cold water.

While I was back home in Tuscany, I kept the water heater in the cabin turned off. It would be hours before it would warm up – so even the water coming from the hot water tap was ice cold.

Which was exactly what I needed. It did a great job of shrinking my dick back down.

I thought about taking a cold shower to really do the job right – but I knew the cold water would wake me up, and I was exhausted.

Better just to get everything smaller so Lucia wouldn’t see the effect she had on me, then go to bed.

As I toweled myself dry, I frowned.

The water had been like ice – and yet she hadn’t complained about it.

But she had started to say something about ‘the water’ when she came out of the bathroom.

Which meant she had been about to complain…

But then she’d started looking at me.

Her big brown eyes –

Her slightly open mouth –

The way she’d stared at my –

FUCK!

I turned the cold water on and started dousing my cock again.

24

Once my balls were aching with cold, I finally left the bathroom.

I was going to walk over to the far side of the bed, turn off the light, and get under the covers.

That was it.

No problem.

As I walked in, I didn’t see her immediately.

I glanced over my shoulder at the right side of the room –

And did a double-take.

She was standing over by the wall, her back to me.

Her red leather jacket was on a wooden chair by the bed –

As was her blouse –

And her skirt –

And her black stockings.

All she had on was a tiny thong and her bra.

I’d thought her ass was fantastic in a skirt, but I hadn’t had a clue.

It was…

Jesus.

Michelangelo never sculpted anything as beautiful as that ass.

Round – firm, yet soft – her ass cheeks two big handfuls of perfection –

Her skin flawless –

And her thong was nothing more than a little string around her waist and one between her ass cheeks.

She was pretty much naked right there in front of me.

Men either like tits, ass, or legs. And I’m pretty sure that ‘leg men’ have been in decline ever since WWII.

Now, I like a nice rack –

But what really got me going was a great ass.

And Lucia’s ass was better than any I’d ever seen in my life.

She had this petite body –

And then out of nowhere, this luscious ass that really didn’t belong on a frame like hers.

Seeing her like that was pretty much a religious experience.

If golden light had started to shine down from heaven and a chorus of angels had begun singing, I wouldn’t have been too surprised.

But there were other things about her that were sexy as hell, too.

Her long brown hair was down and falling over her shoulders in waves.

She still had on her bra – black and lacy, from what I could see –

But her hands were reaching behind her back to unclasp it.

One of the sexiest things in the world is watching a woman from the back taking off her bra.

The act itself is just hot.

And because it’s from the back, you want to see the front –

But you can’t.

So it’s this kind of peep show where you’re denied what you really want.

It took a hell of a lot to distract me from her gorgeous derriere, but unclasping her bra did it…

Especially as she pulled the straps off her arms and placed her bra on the chair with her other clothes.

It didn’t matter how much my cock and balls ached from the Arctic cold I’d subjected them to –

I immediately started to get hard again.

I turned away quickly, but couldn’t stop staring at her.

Then she looked over her shoulder at me.

Her big brown eyes stared at me from under half-closed lids, like she was trying to seduce me…

And she smirked. “No touching. Only looking.”

Then she turned around and kept one arm over her chest to hide her nipples.

She had small breasts – which I liked. They went perfectly with her body.

And like I said, I’m an ass man.

But her arm pressed her tits up so there was a definite rounding at the top.

Absolutely gorgeous.

Then my eyes dropped.

Her belly was soft and feminine…

Her navel had a glittering piercing in it…

And her thong?

Just a tiny little triangle of cloth between her thighs. It might have been big enough to cover a couple of square inches.

She had to have been waxed or shaved because that cloth wasn’t hiding anything. There was only soft, milky skin between her bellybutton and the front of her thong.

My cock got hard as a crowbar.

Then she narrowed her eyes. “In fact, no looking, either. Turn off the light.”

I couldn’t say anything – I was even more tongue-tied than she had been earlier.

I just turned and snapped off the light.

There were gauzy curtains over the only window in the room. They let in just enough moonlight for me to see her body.

She dropped her arm. In the dim light, I saw the two tiny circles of her areolas, perfect and round.

I didn’t think it was possible, but I got even harder.

My cock was pressing painfully and awkwardly at an angle against my boxers.

I had to adjust and let the head poke up out of my waistband –

Something Lucia definitely must NOT see.

Once my cock was standing straight up against my stomach, I felt behind me for the thick covers, flipped them up, and got into bed. I faced the wall the entire time so she couldn’t see anything.

I heard the covers on her side get pulled back –

The tiniest shift in the mattress as she slipped into bed –

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, IT’S FREEZING!” she shouted.

It was true – the sheets were cold.

I hadn’t minded because it took my mind off my raging erection – and her body.

No, scratch that.

I hadn’t even noticed how cold the sheets were, because I was more preoccupied with my raging erection – and the image of her ass, which was burned into my brain.

“It’ll warm up,” I said, my voice thick. It was hard to speak.

“This SUCKS!” she hissed.

Since I couldn’t see her – and since she was back to being a brat – I got some of my regular brain function back.

“Quit complaining,” I said.

I felt the mattress shift as she squirmed.

“This is HORRIBLE! It’s like being on an ICE CUBE!”

I sighed. “You make it sound like you’ve never been in a – ”

Suddenly, bare skin touched mine.

The softest skin imaginable.

Round and soft and –

My eyes bugged out of my head as I realized she’d put her ass up against me.

Because of our height difference, her ass cheeks were pressed against my lower back –

And then her bare back touched mine.

If my dick had been a crowbar before, it was approaching diamond levels of hardness. It could have scratched glass, I was sure of it.

“Ahhhh,” Lucia sighed contentedly.

“What the hell are you doing?!” I hissed. I couldn’t move away from her because I was right on the edge of the bed.

“Getting warm. You’re like a furnace. Mmmmmm.”

That purr in her voice…

Her baby-soft skin against mine…

My cock was so hard it hurt.

“Go back on your side of the bed,” I snapped.

“Don’t get excited, mafia boy. This is strictly so I don’t freeze my ass off.”

“You’re not going to – ”

“Shhhhhh. Just enjoy it. This is the closest you’re ever going to get to my naked body, so – ”

“You’re naked?!” I yelped.

She giggled –

Which was just about the most feminine, sexy sound I’d ever heard.

“Well, not entirely… but I saw you looking, so you know how small this thong is. I’m practically naked, for all intents and purposes.”

I tried to make my mouth move, but it took forever. “You… you can’t…”

“Shhhhhhhh. Getting warm is the first nice thing since I walked into this dump. Just be quiet for a minute.”

I lay there, still as a statue, my cock so hard and throbbing I felt like it might break off.

She lay there, and I could feel every curve of her ass pressed against my body…

And then her breathing slowed…

And I was sure she was out.

I lay there, unable to move – my cock throbbing painfully, my balls aching.

It took forever for me to finally fall asleep.

25

Lucia

I drowsily opened my eyes.

Soft light filled the room. I was lying on my left side and staring at a rough-hewn wooden wall – something I’d never seen before in my entire life.

I’d forgotten where I was –

And then I saw my clothes draped over the chair in the corner, and it all came rushing back.

Oh yeah…

I remembered undressing…

And torturing the ever-loving fuck out of Massimo.

The look in his eyes as he’d stared over his shoulder at me…

Like a little boy who’d been told he could never have a puppy dog.

Absolutely hilarious.

(It had also been a nice distraction from his broad shoulders, muscular back, and that goddamn perfect ass.)

I could only imagine the torture he must have felt when I pressed up against him to get warm.

I’d wanted to press my ass against his so I could feel it – but I decided that would only be torturing myself. So I’d just put my rear end up against his back.

It wasn’t all for show, though. The bed was ice cold, and he was incredibly warm. He practically radiated heat. It really had been super-comfy…

And being pressed up against a bod like that, well… I’d enjoyed myself immensely.

And I was betting he’d had blue balls from hell.

I smiled to myself as I relived the memory.

I was nice and toasty beneath the heavy comforter…

But something was poking into my lower back.

Something hard.

I frowned.

Whatever it was, it was big.

I shifted and rolled over onto my back –

And realized Massimo was lying next to me on his side.

He must have turned around in the night because he was facing me.

His eyes were closed, and he was breathing slowly.

In the early morning light, he was absolutely breathtaking.

He was still handsome as hell, but his features were like an innocent little kid’s… so calm and relaxed…

For a second, I felt bad for all I’d put him through.

I really had been a bitch to him all yesterday.

And making him lust after me… that had been fun, but it was still bitchy.

I wanted nothing more than to reach out and caress his tousled hair…

Maybe touch his cheek and his beard…

But I couldn’t do that.

That’d be weird. Psycho, even.

Anyway, I moved my arm –

And bumped against something.

It was hot…

And soft on the surface…

But incredibly hard.

I froze.

Oh shit –

Is that his COCK?!

I’d heard about morning wood. And before you say, What the hell is WITH this girl – hasn’t she ever felt a guy’s morning wood before?! –

Just know that I’d had my share of dick, but I’d never had the opportunity to experience morning wood firsthand –

Because I never stayed the night.

Seriously. It was like a rule of mine: fuck ‘em and leave ‘em.

I’d never had a boyfriend, see.

Just a string of one-night stands… and a couple of guys I fucked a few more times if they were particularly good at it. One-week stands, I guess you could say.

There weren’t many of those, however. Precious few, actually.

Why no boyfriend, you ask?

For one, I’d never met a guy I really wanted for longer than a couple of days.

Most of them were not that smart. Or interesting. Or funny. Or anything, really.

A hilarious female lawyer on TikTok put it this way: “Most men are like medium steaks… neither rare, nor well-done.”

That was totally my experience. A whole bunch of medium steaks.

I only slept with hot guys, so that part was fine –

Although ‘hot’ did not necessarily equate to ‘good in the sack.’

Most of them were more in love with themselves than they would ever be with a girl.

Plus, it was a little difficult to have a boyfriend when your grandmother ran a mafia empire.

Couldn’t exactly have sleepovers. Nona might have done all sorts of illegal shit and had people whacked on the regular, but she was not going to let me fuck a guy under her roof – that much was for certain.

I’d wanted to get my own apartment – but that was a no-go. No way Nona was letting me get my own place, partly because she knew I’d ho it up all the time if I did.

She was smart. She knew I got up to some shit. But we both silently agreed not to talk about it as long as I didn’t wave it in her face.

We’d actually discussed me getting an apartment once or twice, but her condition was I would have to have a contingent of bodyguards around me all the time – and then what’s the fucking point? It wouldn’t have been any different than living at Nona’s and being watched over by a dozen thugs in suits.

The one thing I’d demanded was that I not have any bodyguards when I went to classes at Ca’ Foscari.

I told Nona I’d run away from any bodyguards she assigned me – including skipping all my classes – so she might as well not bother. She’d grumbled about it, but in the end she’d agreed to test it out without me having a constant shadow.

It went fine – nobody in the Cosa Nostra was stupid enough to cross Nona – so for the last three years, I’d had a relative amount of freedom during the day.

And at night, I snuck out plenty. I’d go with my college friends to the discotheque, get drunk, meet a hot guy, go back to his place –

Bang, and then get dressed and go home.

If he was any good, I’d get his number and meet him a couple more times before I eventually got bored.

But there was another problem.

Even if I was interested in making it a regular thing – which only happened a couple of times – once a guy found out I was in a mafia family, shit got weird.

One dude kept badgering me about it. He acted like it was the coolest thing in the world and asked me a million questions.

Another guy freaked out and never answered my texts again. He was the smart one.

The first dude was a fucking idiot who didn’t understand that if my grandmother ever found out he’d put his dick inside me, he wasn’t going to have a dick much longer. So I was actually kind of doing him a favor by ghosting him.

Ghosting all of them, really.

Saving their lives. Or at least their cocks from getting chopped off.

That’s me… a real do-gooder.

There was another issue with my love life: Venice is kind of a small city. There are only so many nightclubs and bars.

So it happened fairly often that guys would come up to me if they saw me at a club and be like, Hey, how come you never got back to me?

If it had been a one-night stand – which meant they weren’t that good in bed – I’d say, I’m sorry, do I know you?

They’d get all offended and say, We slept together!

And I’d say, It must not have been very memorable, then.

If that didn’t do the trick and get them to call me a bitch and walk off, I’d say, How drunk WAS I, exactly? You DO know it’s rape if you sleep with a girl if she’s too drunk to consent, right?

They always left five seconds later with some really lame excuse.

Not cool of me to play that particular card, I know. That sort of thing happens way too often to way too many women for me to use it that lightly.

But seriously, if a dude can’t take a hint the first time…

All of this was an incredibly long, roundabout way of explaining why I had never experienced the concept of ‘morning wood.’

I’d heard about it, sure. Watched tons of movies with jokes about it.

But I’d never actually experienced it in real life.

And if it was a hard cock under the covers that had been poking me in the ass, well…

Let’s just say that of all the cocks I’d seen or touched, none of them felt even remotely that big.

Some had been fairly big. If the owners weren’t idiots or could last longer than two minutes, those usually got a second chance.

But this…

This was a whole ‘nother ballgame, sister.

I moved my arm a little under the sheets…

And brushed up against something huge.

My eyes went wide.

Whoa.

It was really fucking hot, for one.

Not just sexy –

But it was totally sexy.

With all of the guys I’d ever been with, as soon as we got to their place, BOOM, out came the dick. No mystery, no teasing, no suspense.

Here… hell, it was all mystery. All teasing. All suspense.

Brushing up against a huge cock under the covers but not knowing how big it was, or what it looked like – if it had a bend to it, or was curved, or how thick it was –

The ‘not knowing’ was driving me wild.

So it was definitely ‘sexy hot’…

But it was also ‘temperature hot.’

Scorching hot, actually. Way warmer than his regular skin had been last night.

And what I had touched was soft, at least on the surface…

But also rigid as fuck.

Like velvet over a lead pipe.

That’s when I realized something.

I was almost 100% positive I’d felt bare skin, which meant one of three things.

Either he’d taken off his boxers in the middle of the night, which I didn’t see happening…

Or it was sticking out of his fly…

Or it was so big that it jutted up out of his underwear.

And that made me intensely curious.

And wet.

So wet.

I wanted to see how big it was.

Really wanted to see.

There was this potentially huge cock underneath the covers, attached to a guy that was handsome as hell –

(And annoying as hell, too, but we could ignore that for a second)

– and I couldn’t see it?

Fuck that shit.

My heart was thudding in my chest like a sledgehammer as I slowly lifted up the covers and –

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Massimo barked.

“AAAAH!” I screamed and scrambled away from him.

He was scowling at me from where his head lay on his pillow.

As I sat up, though, the bed covers slid off my body –

Revealing my tits.

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

I yelped and pulled the sheet over my breasts.

He raised himself up on one arm.

Oh my god, the way his arm flexed and the muscles on his shoulder stood out as he leaned on his elbow –

I got even wetter just seeing his muscles ripple like that.

But when he shifted, something else happened.

A very sizeable bulge shifted underneath the covers.

The comforter was heavy, and the bulge was pretty far away from his body…

So whatever was under there was hard as a rock and long as fuck.

I stared down at the cover, then looked back at him.

He realized what I was looking at, so he hurriedly twisted his hips so his cock was flush with the bed and the bulge disappeared.

Too late.

I’d seen it –

He knew I’d seen it –

And I knew he knew I’d seen it.

So I just came out with it.

“How big is it?” I asked.

I also put a finger in my mouth and touched my teeth.

I didn’t realize I’d done it – the finger in the mouth part – until he stared at my lips and his face flushed bright red.

It was adorable, actually.

“That’s none of your business,” he snapped.

I laughed – then got quiet pretty quickly. “No, seriously… how big is it?”

“I told you – ”

“What have you got under there, the Loch Ness Monster?” I asked as I tried to pull the covers up. “Lemme see – ”

You’d have thought I was trying to shoot him in the balls.

He grabbed the comforter and balled it up around his crotch. “STOP.”

“Why? We’re both adults – ”

“NO.”

“All I wanna know is how big it is.”

“NO.”

“Come on,” I purred, then smiled seductively and raised an eyebrow. “I’ll let you see mine if you let me see yours.”

His eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“I’ll give you a peek right now,” I whispered, and lowered the sheet over my right breast.

My nipple was hard – and I watched him stare at it.

He swallowed hard.

“Wanna see more?” I whispered.

He looked into my eyes –

Opened his mouth –

I knew the answer was ‘Yes’ –

But he forced himself to say the opposite.

“NO.”

“Come on,” I teased him. This was more fun than I’d had in ages. “What, my tits aren’t enough? I can let you see everything else if you want.”

I reached up under the covers, grabbed my thong, rolled onto my back, lifted my legs, and pulled it off.

And then held it up over the sheets.

The little swatch of cloth was soaked.

I’m pretty sure he could see how damp it was…

And I could smell it.

I smell and taste pretty good, by the way. At least, the handful of guys who have gone down on me have told me that. (Most of them just stuck their dick in and never even offered to go downtown. Yet another reason they didn’t get invited back.)

If I could smell my desire…

Then I knew he could, too.

“I’ll let you see everything,” I purred as I stared him in the eyes. “I just want… to see… how big it is.”

His eyes were fixed on my thong.

His mouth was open like he wanted to say something…

He was totally distracted.

That’s when I reached out under the covers and grabbed it.

And my eyes opened wide.

Holy SHIT.

The thing was HUGE.

My hand didn’t even fit all the way around it.

And I was still up around the head. I could feel the ridge of his crown, firm against my palm – but there was no telling how long it was.

I’d been wet before, but I was drenched within seconds.

Like, I could feel my pussy fluttering.

I slid my hand farther down his cock – just a couple of inches.

My eyes got even bigger as he got thicker –

And that’s when Massimo freaked out.

“STOP!” he roared.

H jumped out of bed, tearing the comforter off with him –

Plus the sheets.

So I was basically left lying there completely naked.

His eyes nearly fell out of his head.

My first instinct was to cover up –

But then I decided to play it the opposite way.

“You like?” I asked with a seductive smile.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from my pussy –

Which was completely bare.

I opened my legs to give him a better view.

“I know I said no touching,” I teased, “but I think we can break that rule.”

He swallowed hard.

For a second I thought I had him –

And then he started walking towards the bathroom, using the comforter to cover his crotch.

“HEY!” I shouted, incensed. “I showed you mine, now you gotta show me yours!”

“I’m going to take a shower,” he mumbled, forcing himself to stare straight ahead down the hall.

“Hey – come on! SHOW me!” I yelled as I scrambled up on my hands and knees.

That was too much for him – knowing I was on my hands and knees –

And I saw his eyes flit over to me.

And stare at my ass.

“Show me,” I said as seductively as I could –

And then he was out of the bedroom. A second later, I heard the bathroom door slam shut.

I fell over on the bed and stifled my laughter.

This was the most fun I’d had in years.

Hell, it was hotter than most of the sex I’d ever had.

Big bad mafioso couldn’t bring himself to show me his cock because he was too scared of my grandmother.

Well, I was going to see it, one way or another. I made myself that promise.

I heard the shower go on in the bathroom.

I knew the water was still ice cold –

Oh no you don’t.

“Oh God,” I moaned.

It was completely fake – I wasn’t touching myself –

But he didn’t know that.

“Oh GOD, it’s so BIG,” I moaned louder. “Ohhhhhh… PLEASE let me touch it… OH MASSIMO…”

I kept that up for another few minutes, then got bored.

I couldn’t wait to see if he jerked off while he was in the shower.

Didn’t matter if he did.

I’d found my new favorite game, and I was going to be playing it non-stop.

26

Massimo

I put my head under the shower and took a sharp breath as the freezing cold water rushed over me.

I could not get the sight of her naked body out of my head.

Her perfect skin glowing in the morning light through the window…

Her hair tousled and wild…

Her beautiful breasts…

Her wide-open legs…

Her soft pink lips…

The curve of her ass pressing against the bed…

And the scent of her. Sweet and musky – unlike any other woman I’d smelled before.

And she’d been wet. I could see it on her pussy –

And the thong she’d held up to tease me with.

My cock was harder than I think it had ever been in my life.

I hadn’t had sex since before my father had died, and I hadn’t jerked off in weeks. Too much stress had put my libido into hibernation.

Well, now it was back like a raging bull.

And then…

The little bitch started moaning through the wall.

“Oh GOD, it’s so BIG… ohhhhhh… PLEASE let me touch it… OH MASSIMO…”

FUCK.

Her voice was high and feminine… and her moaning turned me on even more.

All I could think about was her fingers between her legs, touching her pussy, rubbing her clit, her head flung back in ecstasy, her mouth open –

I knew she was playing me.

I knew this was all her way of toying with me.

Didn’t matter.

It especially didn’t matter to my cock, which was so hard it ached.

Fuck it.

I reached for the soap and lathered up.

I knew that she’d have power over me if I didn’t come.

It would be that much easier for her to get under my skin.

Fuck THAT.

I stroked my dick and imagined her on the bed in front of me, her perfect ass in the air, as I parted her little pink lips with my tip.

“Oh baby – it’s so BIG – oh God, I just want to LICK it – ”

I didn’t try to make it last longer.

This wasn’t about me trying to pleasure a woman.

This was about getting it over with –

And cutting off any trace of power she had over me.

“Oh GOD, Massimo, put it IN me! For fuck’s sake, put it – OHHHHHHH! – ”

I imagined her body writhing in front of me as I sank deep inside her, balls deep –

And I came.

FUCK FUCK FUCK –

I stifled the grunt that threatened to escape my lips.

When it was over, I let the cold water rush over me…

Felt my cock finally start to deflate…

And glared through the wall as she went quiet.

Lucia…

You’re going to PAY for that.

27

I toweled off and came back out in my boxers.

I steeled myself for the worst – that she might still be lying naked on the bed –

But she was fully dressed and buttoning up her silk blouse.

She looked over at me and smirked. “Was it good for you, baby?”

I ignored her, went to the foot of the bed, and opened the wooden trunk.

“Did you think of me when you came?” she purred.

“No,” I lied as I pulled out folded items of clothing, one by one, and laid them on the bed.

“But you did come, right?” she asked with a mocking, seductive tone. “I mean, I don’t see the Rock-Hard Tower of Pisa in your shorts anymore, so – ”

“The shower’s available.”

“Is the water still freezing?”

“More or less.”

“Then no thanks. Besides, you probably got cum all over the place.” She crinkled up her nose. “Ewwwwww, gross.” Then she giggled. “You could’ve just come on my tits.”

As she continued to talk, she walked over to me slowly… seductively.

“I would’ve let you,” she murmured. “Or you could come on my ass… which would you prefer?”

She put a soft hand on my arm.

My skin tingled at her touch. Life started to surge back into my cock.

Shit –

But I was saved when she started gagging.

“What the fuck is that smell?!” she cried out as she covered her nose.

“Mothballs,” I said.

I put them all over my clothes when I wasn’t here. Otherwise, moths would turn everything into Swiss cheese.

I could have packed everything in plastic bags, I guess… but the mothball scent always faded after wearing my clothes for a day or two. Either that or I got used to it. And I didn’t mind the smell.

Lucia did.

“Fuck, that’s horrible!” she yelped as she backed away.

“Don’t use too many mothballs in your fancy palazzo, huh?” I asked as I stepped into a pair of jeans.

“NO, we don’t,” she said as she retreated across the room. “Ugh – if you wanted to turn me off, congratulations, it worked.”

“Good,” I said as I slipped a white t-shirt over my head.

“Why are you dressing like that?”

I put on a green plaid shirt and began to button it up. “We can’t go traipsing around the woods in designer clothes. We’ll stick out like sore thumbs.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, ‘we’?”

“What do you think I mean?”

“This is all I’ve got to wear.”

I sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled on some wool socks. “Which is why we’re going into town to get you some new clothes. We’ll eat breakfast first, but – ”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to be seen.”

I shrugged as I pulled on some Timberland boots. “It’s unavoidable.”

“You said we couldn’t go into town last night and stay in a hotel!”

I finished lacing up my boots and smiled at her. “Well… you seemed to enjoy your time here, anyway. I know I certainly did.”

She glared at me, then turned and walked out of the room.

“Asshole,” I heard her mutter.

28

Lucia

Well, it didn’t quite go down – ha ha, no pun intended – like I’d hoped.

Once he came out of the shower, Massimo was a changed man.

Calm, cool, and collected.

Maybe still young and dumb, but no longer full of cum.

Me, on the other hand…

I was still on edge. After all, I hadn’t had an orgasm.

He had.

Which, now that I thought about it… was getting me excited again.

I imagined him stroking it…

Rubbing his big, thick shaft with his hand…

Jets of white cum spurting from his swollen head –

I forced myself to stop thinking about it.

If I got excited, he would have me at a disadvantage – and I wasn’t about to let that happen.

It didn’t help, though, that he was utterly fucking gorgeous when he came out of the shower.

His hair was wet and slicked back… his skin was still slightly damp…

And the light from the window showed off his muscles in all their glory.

God damn, he was hot.

I couldn’t stop staring at his body as he took out a bunch of clothes and laid them on the bed.

But I wasn’t about to go down – ha ha – without a fight.

“Did you think of me when you came?” I asked in my best Come fuck me voice.

“No.”

He refused to look at me. He probably thought that concealed his obvious lie.

“But you did come, right?” I teased him. “I mean, I don’t see the Rock-Hard Tower of Pisa in your shorts anymore, so…”

What I did see was the Matterhorn of asses, though, under his black boxers.

Mmmmmmm…

“The shower’s available,” he said, still refusing to look at me.

“Is the water still freezing?”

“More or less.”

“Then no thanks. Besides, you probably got cum all over the place.” I made a face “Ewwwwww, gross.”

Actually, it didn’t gross me out at all.

I really, really wish I’d been there to see it.

In fact… I really wish he’d come all over me.

I imagined him spurting on my stomach… or…

“You could’ve just come on my tits.” I sauntered towards him, doing my best Come fuck me walk. “I would’ve let you. Or you could come on my ass…. which would you prefer?”

I put a hand on his arm.

His massive, incredibly huge arm that was bigger around than my head.

He tensed a little as I touched him.

Jesus…

Despite the cold water from the shower, his skin was so warm…

And still slightly damp…

Like we’d fucked, and he was glistening with –

And then the smell hit me.

Sharp fumes that stabbed at my nostrils.

“What the fuck is that smell?!” I asked, immediately clamping a hand over my nose.

“Mothballs,” he said.

“Fuck, that’s horrible!” I cried out as I backed away.

From the smug smirk on his face, he was obviously enjoying my reaction.

“Don’t use too many mothballs in your fancy palazzo, huh?” he asked –

And then he stepped into a pair of jeans.

Fuuuuuck.

Those big, strong legs…

But the stench of the mothballs interfered.

“NO, we don’t,” I said as I backed across the room. “Ugh – if you wanted to turn me off, congratulations, it worked.”

The mothballs were a turn-off –

But not the rest of what he was doing.

He pulled a t-shirt on, and I got a little wet watching his pecs flex and his abs ripple as he lifted his arms.

He looked like a thirst trap post on Instagram as he pulled the t-shirt over his head.

“Good,” he said.

I frowned. Jeans, t-shirt – there was a green plaid shirt on the bed –

“Why are you dressing like that?” I asked.

I didn’t like it.

I mean, I kind of did like it –

Which is why I didn’t like it.

What with his neatly trimmed beard, he was transforming in front of my eyes from a mafioso prick to a rugged, backwoods badass –

And was actually looking hotter than ever, which pissed me off even more.

He slipped on the long-sleeve plaid shirt and began to button it up. “We can’t go traipsing around the woods in designer clothes. We’ll stick out like sore thumbs.”

I frowned even harder. “What do you mean, ‘we’?”

“What do you think I mean?”

“This is all I’ve got to wear.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, which groaned beneath his weight, and put on some thick tan socks. “Which is why we’re going into town to get you some new clothes. We’ll eat breakfast first, but – ”

We’re going into town –

Whoa, whoa, whoa –

“I thought we weren’t supposed to be seen,” I said in irritation.

He shrugged as he pulled on some brown hiking boots. “It’s unavoidable.”

“You said we couldn’t go into town last night and stay in a hotel!” I protested, my temper starting to rise.

He finally looked up at me – now fully transformed into Mr. Hot Mountain Man – and gave me a smug ‘fuck you’ grin.

“Well… you seemed to enjoy your time here, anyway. I know I certainly did.”

THAT turned my temper up to 11 for sure.

I shot him an Eat shit and die look, then tossed an “Asshole” over my shoulder for good measure as I walked out of the room.

29

I was still pissed when we walked out of the cabin to go into town –

But that quickly passed as I looked around in wonder at our surroundings.

I hadn’t been able to see much when we drove up last night in the dark.

But now… in the morning sunlight… it was a whole different world.

The forest was absolutely beautiful. Tall pines and a few leafy trees soared around us on all sides, and dappled sunlight filtered down through the limbs.

The air was filled with a scent I can only describe as green. There was the tangy scent of pine needles and an underlying sweetness of leaves mixed with the earthy smell of wood.

The ground was carpeted with pine needles, ferns, and tiny saplings struggling to grow in the shade of the giants around them.

My skin prickled with goosebumps in the cool air – but then grew warm when I walked through patches of sunlight.

And the sounds!

Birds – so many birds chirping and singing. There were birds in Venice, but they were mostly pigeons that flocked on the public squares and seagulls from the Adriatic. Sure, there were other types of birds, but it was rare to see them outside of a park – and even rarer to hear them.

But this – this was like a symphony.

Underneath the birdsong was the sound of the wind blowing through the treetops – a gentle swish of leaves, like a quieter version of waves on the shore.

I had never experienced any of this.

I’d only seen the woods in movies and TV shows –

And none of them could do justice to the full range of sights and sounds all around me.

Even the house – which had looked run-down and decrepit in the car’s headlights last night – took on a new appearance. There was a beauty to the weathered wood and the stones that made up the chimney.

Venice is full of old things. I mean, I lived in a palace that was 700 years old. But all the old things in Venice were stately and noble and imposing… and kind of boring. Like museums.

But that little cabin looked like it belonged here… like it could have grown up from the forest floor, a part of the landscape of trees.

I just stood there, wide-eyed, and took it all in.

Massimo paused by the door of the car and watched me, perplexed. “You okay?”

“…I can see why you got this place…” I murmured.

He smiled – and for a moment, it felt like there was a truce between us.

“Just wait until you see the drive into town,” he said as we got in the car.

* * *

He wasn’t kidding.

As we left the woods and approached the town of Padola, things got truly spectacular.

There was the cute little alpine village with small houses and one lone church steeple.

It was surrounded by acres and acres of grassy green fields –

Which led to a sea of pine trees that stretched upwards along a slope.

And then, suddenly, the mountains.

They seemed to burst out of the ground – big, pale, craggy peaks.

Not a whole range of them, mind you – just three massive domes that poked out of the ground, joined by smaller ridges. Then they disappeared again into the sea of pine trees.

The tops of the mountains were rounded off by time and erosion, but there were jagged furrows all over the place.

“Wow,” I whispered, peering out the window like a puppy dog.

“They’re part of the Alps,” Massimo said, “but they only stretch about 60 miles east to west. And they look a lot different because of the minerals they’re made out of. In fact, there are some places where the mountains turn pink at the sunset.”

“Can we see that?” I asked in wonder as I continued to stare through the window.

“…maybe,” Massimo said. “When all this is over with.”

I didn’t believe him.

Once this was all over, he’d drop me off with Nona and never look back.

But for a minute, it was fun to pretend.

30

Massimo

Something came over Lucia when we stepped out of the cabin.

A look of awe filled her face as she slowly turned around and took it all in.

She gazed at everything with quiet intensity – the trees, the ground, the cabin –

And when she saw the mountains, she basically had her palms and nose pressed to the glass the entire time.

It was interesting to realize that things I’d taken for granted my entire life – forests, countryside, mountains – were entirely new to her.

Venice was beautiful, but it was manmade beauty. The most the island had to offer in the way of Nature was some immaculately manicured parks. Very pretty, but kind of sterile.

And there was nothing like the Dolomites.

On a clear day, you could see the mountains from Venice – but they were 100 miles away.

There was a majesty to seeing them up close…

And she was visibly affected by it.

I realized then that she wasn’t just some rich brat only interested in purses and clothes.

She was capable of true wonder and a deep appreciation of Nature.

In those moments, she was –

Well, she was captivating.

Mesmerizing.

Her eyes sparkled…

And they were filled with an innocence and joy you almost never saw except in the eyes of children.

It made me like her so much more. I began to feel something like affection for her –

And then she had to go and ruin it.

“So… how big is it?” she asked with a smirk.

We were inside a restaurant in Padola. It was a tiny place with wood paneling on the walls and exposed beams in the A-shaped ceiling. The décor was far more Swiss than Italian. In the winters, the town turned into a ski resort – a very small ski resort, but a ski resort nonetheless – and there were lots of pictures on the walls of the Dolomites covered in snow.

A few locals were in the restaurant, but since I was dressed like a lumberjack, they didn’t give me a second look other than to take in my size. They were a lot more curious about Lucia, what with her red leather jacket and silk blouse.

At least she wasn’t cranky and glaring back at people like she had at dinner the night before.

No, she was just trying to make me uncomfortable.

“Seriously, how big is it?”

I cut into my eggs and took a bite. “We’re not talking about this.”

“Obviously we are. Is it eight inches? Nine?”

I glared at her. “Could you just let me eat in peace?”

“Sure, once you tell me. Is it ten?”

I ignored her and sipped my coffee.

“Come onnnn… just tell me how big it is.”

“A lot bigger than you can handle.”

She reared back her head and gave me a crafty smile. “Ooooooh… challenge accepted!”

“We are not sleeping together.”

“Technically, we ARE sleeping together. Just not fucking.”

“Well, we’re not doing that.”

She tilted her head to the side and asked with fake wide-eyed innocence, “Why not?”

“Because your grandmother would kill me. And you know that,” I scowled. “Which is why you’re acting like this.”

“I don’t want her to kill you. We don’t have to tell her.”

“You don’t even like me.”

She shrugged. “I’ve fucked lots of guys I haven’t liked.”

“Well, I don’t like you.”

She gave me the kind of smile I’d bet the mongoose gives the cobra. “I’m okay with that.”

“I’m not.”

“Ohhhh, are you saving yourself for marriage?” she asked with a sympathetic, understanding nod. “Are you a good Catholic boy? Are you gay? It’s totally fine if you are – ”

“I’m not gay,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her.

“Yeah, I know,” she smirked. “From the way you were staring at me on the bed last night, you’re definitely not gay.”

“Eat your breakfast.”

She sighed as she cut up her waffle. “You know, I should order some sausage. Might be the only meat I’m going to get my mouth on anytime soon…”

I glared at her. “Would you please shut UP?”

She gave a fake reaction of surprise. “Jeez. Cranky.”

And then she finally gave me some peace and quiet as she ate.

It wasn’t that her talking about sex offended me or anything.

It was that it was starting to excite me…

Thinking of her lying on the bed naked…

The look in her eyes as she unbuttoned my pants and took out my…

Shit.

I could feel my cock getting hard under my jeans.

Good thing I’d jerked off, or it would have never gone down…

And I never would have heard the end of it.

31

As it was, I didn’t hear the end of it, anyway.

We’d finished breakfast and were on our way to our next errand when she asked, “So… how big is it?”

“Like I said, too big for you.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Do some women not like it? Does it, like, not even fit inside them?”

“Would you please shut the FUCK UP.”

“Whatever. I’m gonna find out sooner or later, even if I have to barge in on you while you’re taking a shower. Although the water’s so fucking cold, I’m sure there’ll be shrinkage.”

She spoke mostly in Italian, so the sentence was, “Sono sicuro che ci sarà qualche shrinkage.”

Just like ‘boomer,’ I didn’t recognize the English word.

“…shrinkage?”

“You know – shrinkage.” She altered her voice as though imitating a frantic man. “‘I just got back from swimming in the pool, Jerry, and the water was cold. There was significant shrinkage – like a frightened turtle!’”

“Who’s Jerry?”

She stared at me like I’d said I’d come from the lost city of Atlantis. “Seinfeld?! Kramer?! Elaine?! George Costanza?!”

“I have no idea who any of those people are.”

“It’s a fuckin’ television show, dude! One of the most famous ones ever!”

“When was it on?”

“I don’t know – like, the 1990s or something.”

“If it was the early 1990s, that was before I was born,” I said scornfully.

“Yeah, well, it was before I was born, too, and I’ve still seen it.”

“That’s because you like to waste your time.”

“How dare you,” she said in a deadpan voice.

I opened the door to a shop. “In here.”

The place was a clothing store. During the winter, it transformed into a ski shop with cold-weather attire – ski jackets, bibs, overalls, and parkas. During the summer, though, it stocked up on clothes for hiking in the mountains.

“Um…” Lucia said, staring around at the racks of clothing.

“What?”

“…I’m good. I don’t need anything.”

“You can’t go walking around the forest dressed in designer clothes. Especially in those shoes. One of those heels is going to break any second.”

“Well, they’re not made for freakin’ cobblestone,” she said contemptuously.

“And they’re really not made for dirt paths in the woods.”

“…fine… whatever,” she muttered.

An older woman with rosy cheeks and blonde braids came over. She wore jeans and a simple sweatshirt with ‘Padola Ski’ on it. “Hello, how can I help you?”

“We need clothes for her,” I said. “And boots.”

“What size?” the woman asked Lucia.

“35,” she replied – which was the European size and very small. The average Italian woman’s shoe size ranged from 38 to 42.

The woman laughed. “I think we might have something in the junior section.”

“KIDS’ shoes?!” Lucia exclaimed in disbelief.

“Just go with it,” I ordered.

She glared at me, then followed the woman to the children’s shoe aisle.

After some complaining – at which point I reminded her that she was going to wear them for a week at most and could throw them away after that – she settled on some girl’s brown hiking boots.

“We’re also going to need three or four days’ worth of clothes,” I told the woman.

“Everything?” she asked. “Socks, underwear – ”

“Everything.”

“I’m fine with what I’ve got on,” Lucia snapped.

“Maybe today, but six days from now?”

“You just said three or four days!”

“Of outfits. We could be here for a couple of weeks.”

Lucia glared at me, then turned to the saleslady and grumbled, “Alright, what about underwear?”

“We don’t have much,” the woman said as she pointed to a rack. “Just these – ”

“GRANNY PANTIES?!” Lucia yelled. “Oh HELL no!”

“You don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to, but at least get them,” I snapped.

“What about you?” she challenged me. “You ever gonna change your boxers?”

“Yes, I am. I’ve got more back at the house.”

“Why didn’t you change them this morning, then?”

“Because a very annoying person was in the room with me.”

Lucia smirked as she remembered. “…oh yeah… okay, fine, whatever, but I’m not wearing them unless it’s the end of the world.”

“Better to have them and not need them, than need them and not have them.”

“Better to not wear them at all,” she retorted.

She picked out three sports bras, four t-shirts, four long-sleeve tops made of cotton, two yoga pants, a package of socks, and an insulated jacket that could withstand both 50-degree nights and rainfall.

And the granny panties.

I also got a small JanSport backpack for her to carry all of that in, along with two five-gallon containers for water and some canteens.

While I was gathering the other supplies, she came out of the dressing room wearing the boots, black yoga pants, and a light blue top.

She looked different from ‘high fashion’ Lucia – but she still looked amazing. Everything was tight enough that it showed off her amazing ass.

“I kind of like this,” she said as she checked herself out in the mirror.

“You look very pretty,” the blonde woman complimented her.

“Thank you,” Lucia said, then looked at me and said teasingly, “Do I look pretty, Massimo?”

“…you look nice,” I grumbled.

“I guess that’s something,” she said drily, then turned to the woman. “Do you have anything for my hair? Scrunchies or clips?”

I paid the woman in cash. By the time we walked out, Lucia’s old clothes were inside a plastic bag, and her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

I couldn’t walk behind her. The view was too much. I had to make sure I stayed right next to her.

I really like ponytails. I think they’re sexy. My first girlfriend when I was a teenager wore a ponytail, and I kind of had a thing for them.

Watching the combination of Lucia’s hair bobbing along – and her gorgeous ass in yoga pants swaying back and forth as she walked – was way too much for me to handle.

I was gonna have to jerk off again when we got back to the house, I just knew it.

32

We stopped by the local grocery store and stocked up on canned and tinned foods. I bought a toothbrush for Lucia and things like deodorant – plus I got a cheap charger for my cell phone that could plug into a wall socket. The one I’d bought back at the gas station only worked with a car’s cigarette lighter. In addition, I snagged a dozen cloth bags. No way I wanted to be out on the street and have a paper bag rip open.

“Why aren’t we getting anything good?” Lucia asked snottily as she inspected my food choices.

“We need stuff that’ll keep,” I said in a low voice so no one else could hear. “We won’t be coming back for a while.”

“Great,” she muttered.

“Get whatever you want for tonight and tomorrow. Just don’t get anything we can’t eat in the next 24 hours.”

She didn’t pick apples and bananas, though. I was the one who got several of those.

No… she got junk food. Two bags of potato chips and a box of powdered donuts.

“That’s what you call ‘good’?” I asked as I stacked the food on the counter beside the cashier.

“It’s a hell of a lot better than tuna fish,” she said as she scrunched up her nose.

“We need protein.”

“Well, it looks like you’re buying a shit-ton of it.”

“I’m a big guy.”

She leaned in and whispered naughtily, “Yeah… how big?”

“GO… AWAY.”

She sighed and walked over to the front of the store as the cashier rang me up.

When he was finished, I paid in cash. I didn’t want to take a chance that Fausto could trace my credit cards.

“Oh my God!” Lucia suddenly squealed – not in anger, but delight.

I looked over to see her standing in front of a gumball machine, the type that dispensed plastic bubbles filled with trinkets and fake jewelry rather than candy.

“I love these things! I haven’t seen one since I was a kid!” She looked over at me, a huge smile on her face. “Can I have some coins?”

I looked at her for a second and got lost in her eyes.

She could be so incredibly annoying sometimes…

And then, without warning, her eyes could sparkle…

And her smile shine with joy…

It was enough to –

“Massimo,” she barked. She snapped her fingers like she was trying to break me out of a trance. “Earth to Massimo. Come in, Massimo.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled, then slipped the cashier a five-euro bill. “Can you give us change for whatever that thing takes?”

I gave Lucia a handful of coins, and she inserted one and cranked the metal handle around. When the bubble came out, she opened it – and saw it was a keychain.

“No,” she announced to no one in particular as she tossed the keychain and bubble on the floor.

“Pick that up,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, waving me off as she inserted another coin and turned the handle.

The second bubble yielded several pieces of bubblegum. She popped them in her mouth and began chewing as she tried again.

The third bubble yielded a sticker of a scorpion. Or what I thought was a sticker.

“Oh, cool – a tattoo!” she cried out, and held it up for my inspection.

“Doesn’t look like a tattoo,” I said. I nodded my thanks to the cashier and grabbed the handles of the dozen cloth bags.

“You put water on it and it sticks to your skin,” she explained.

“Pick up the key chain and those plastic things,” I ordered.

She grabbed them off the floor and stuffed them into one of my bags.

“Thanks for offering to carry one,” I said sarcastically as we walked towards the door.

“You’re a BIG guy,” she said lasciviously. “You seem to be handling them just fine.”

Rather than have her start talking about penis size again, I just carried the bags in silence as she inspected her sticker… tattoo… whatever the hell it was.

Once we got back to the car, I loaded everything into the trunk and stepped away to make a phone call on my cell. There hadn’t been any reception at the house, but I had three bars here in town.

I still kept Lucia within sight, though. She placed the tattoo on different parts of her body over her clothes, trying to figure out the best place for it.

Some of the places she put it – over her left breast, on her ass, low on her belly – caused an inconvenient stirring in my pants that made me have to adjust myself.

Niccolo answered on the first ring. “You alright?”

“As best as can be expected.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means my traveling companion is annoying the fuck out of me.”

He chuckled. “Well, it could be worse.”

“I suppose. How’s it going on your end? Did Lars catch the shooter?”

“No,” Niccolo said, and his voice sounded dire. “The shooter got away clean.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. But nothing else has happened since then. I’m still paranoid about who I can trust, so I haven’t found a plane to pull you out yet.”

“Not a problem.”

“I’ve been in contact with the Widow. She’s still wary that Fausto’s men are lurking in the shadows, so she told me to tell you NOT to bring Lucia in until we’re convinced it’s safe.”

“Okay.”

“Look, not to be overly paranoid… but it might be a good idea for you not to use your cell anymore. In case they can trace it.”

“I was thinking of that. I’m not going to get much reception where we’re going, anyway, but I think I’ll still keep it as an emergency back channel. Text me if you need to get in contact and I’ll call as soon as I can.”

“Understood. Anything else?”

“Aurelio called me yesterday as I was driving away from Venice.”

“REALLY,” Niccolo said, surprised.

“He threatened to escalate things unless I turned over Lucia. A couple of things he said gave me the feeling that maybe he’s behind this and not Fausto. That maybe he went rogue.”

“What specifically did he say?”

“Nothing concrete – just that he wouldn’t let me talk to Fausto, and he seemed to avoid talking about Fausto whenever I brought him up.”

“Huh… you may be on to something. I still don’t think the overall plan – Mezzasalma killing the Agrellas and trying to frame us for the murders – could have been done without Fausto pulling the strings, but you may be right about Venice. It was a huge tactical error, which could indicate Aurelio decided to take things into his own hands.”

“What do you mean, ‘tactical error’?”

“Fausto turned the Five Families against us by framing us for the Agrellas’ murders – so why send a bunch of mercenaries into Venice? And not enough to finish the job? It was a complete fuck-up on their part, and they’ve squandered whatever advantage they had by framing us in the first place.”

“So you think Aurelio’s behind Venice?”

“Quite possibly. I’ll have to think about it more, but good insight on your part.”

“Thanks.”

“Anything else I can do for you?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Alright. Be safe, brother.”

“You, too.”

And then I hung up.

It dawned on me that this was the first time in my entire life that I’d been shut off from communication with my family.

Sure, there had been times when I’d been away from home and unable to phone in…

But I’d always had at least one of my brothers with me.

The times I’d spent alone at my cabin had been by choice… and I was just a short car drive away from being able to call anyone I wanted.

This was different. This was forced separation, and there was no one to count on but myself.

For the first time in many years, I felt very much alone.

33

When we returned to the house, I unloaded the cans and tins of food on the counter and got my backpack out of the closet. It was designed to hold a tent and sleeping bag, which I wouldn’t be carrying, so there would be plenty of room for the food. I also arranged a pile of odds and ends to take along: a lighter to start fires, a can opener, and a corkscrew for any bottles of wine we might find.

Lucia came out of the bathroom sporting her new tattoo on her right shoulder, right along her collarbone. The scorpion was done in a tribal style, so it was really more of a collection of black lines resembling claws and a curved tail with a stinger.

That wasn’t what I was looking at, though.

She’d come out of the bathroom topless with her arm across her chest – just like last night when she got into bed.

But now, in the daylight, I got a much better view of the swelling tops of her breasts.

And… well… that view provoked a reaction.

Let’s just say I was glad I was standing behind the kitchen counter.

“Do you like it?” she asked gleefully, sweeping her long hair out of the way so her shoulder was entirely bare.

“They’re very nice,” I muttered.

She narrowed her eyes. “‘They’re’?”

“It,” I quickly said. “It’s very nice.”

She gave me a smug smile. “You like other things, too, huh?”

“Go put a top on,” I ordered.

“Why?” she asked with fake innocence. “I thought you said they’re very nice.”

She shifted her hand to the center of her left breast so only the nipple was covered –

And even then, I could see the dark pink of her areola between two of her fingers.

“GO PUT ON SOME CLOTHES,” I snarled at her.

“Jesus, okay,” she snapped, then smirked again. “Why? Is it getting bigger? I wanna see – ”

She started coming around the counter.

“Lucia – ” I warned her.

“Keep your pants on, I’m just – ”

And I felt her free hand brush against the front of my jeans.

“Oh shit, you are hard,” she said in a voice both teasing and surprised.

I’d had enough.

I turned, put my hand on her throat, and pushed her back against the wall.

It wasn’t hard – I wasn’t crushing her windpipe or anything –

But it was pretty fucking aggressive.

Especially since my hand was almost big enough to wrap around her entire neck…

And also because I pushed her back six feet.

She banged against the wall and stared up at me with startled eyes.

I glared down at her angrily. “This is going to stop. All the flirty little bullshit is going to STOP. All the nudity and asking me ‘how big it is’ is GOING TO STOP. I am here for one reason and one reason only: to keep you safe. I am not here to babysit. I am not here for your fucking entertainment. I am here to keep you alive and out of the clutches of some very bad people. So when I tell you to do something from now on, you DO it. And I am telling you to stop this. GOT IT?”

She just stared up at me with wide eyes…

And then she took her arm off her chest and put both her hands on my wrist.

“Is this what gets you hot?” she whispered.

I was so angry at that moment –

Partly because she was right.

My cock felt like it was going to burst through my pants –

Especially now that I could see her breasts.

In my anger, I unthinkably squeezed her neck a little more –

And she gasped and held on.

Not trying to pry my hand away…

But holding on to me.

“Do you like it?” she whispered as she kept staring at me with zero fear in her eyes. Then she licked her lips slightly. “I do.”

I was enraged –

And I was afraid I might go further if I didn’t stop.

I took my hand off her neck, grabbed her shoulder, and roughly turned her around.

Then I pushed her towards the back of the cabin with my other hand on her spine.

It didn’t help, though, that now I could see her ass…

Which was in yoga pants so tight that they looked painted on.

“Go in the back and PUT ON SOME FUCKING CLOTHES,” I snarled as I pushed her towards the bedroom.

“You’re no fun,” she said in a mocking voice.

“You’ll see how much fun I’m NOT if you don’t quit acting like a slut,” I barked.

That got her attention.

She turned her head sharply and glared at me over her shoulder. Her eyes blazed with anger.

“You know what? FUCK YOU, asshole.”

“Fuck you too, princess.”

She went into the bathroom and SLAMMED the door shut as hard as she could.

It rattled the entire house.

Cursing under my breath, I went back to the kitchen and started putting items into the backpack.

34

Lucia

Massimo calling me a slut infuriated me.

I’d grown up listening to my grandmother’s mafia goons laughing and bragging when they thought I couldn’t hear.

I was an eavesdropper. I liked to hide around corners or sit on the stairs, out of sight.

That was the only way I ever heard the truth from a man: when he thought I wasn’t listening.

Around my grandmother, it was, Yes, Signora. Of course, Signora. Absolutely, Signora.

But when they were alone amongst themselves?

You should’ve seen the girl I fucked over the weekend – Madonn, what tits… here, I got her to send me some nude pics, take a look.

She started going off on me, so I smacked her around a little. THAT oughta teach her.

Fuckin’ bitch – I should drop her ass, but they’re ALL fuckin’ crazy.

Yeah, my old lady has no idea I got two other chicks on the side… NONE of ‘em do…

I learned at a very young age that men were real pieces of shit.

And cowards, too.

They talked a good game when it was only other guys listening –

But whenever their female boss was around – who wouldn’t hesitate to have them shot in the head for a big enough fuck-up – they turned into fawning little ass-kissers.

Other than the cooks and the servants, there weren’t any other women in the household.

Lots of fuckin’ mafiosos, though.

Lots of opportunity to hear a bunch of sexist, misogynistic garbage.

Nona knew it was a bad idea for me to be around her dipshit lackeys, so she put me into Catholic boarding school for girls. Twenty-four hours a day, Monday through Friday. From age 10 to 18, I only came home on weekends.

I was literally raised in a convent by a bunch of nuns.

I wasn’t religious – Nona didn’t go to mass and told me I didn’t have to, either – so I basically just tolerated the nuns and recited whatever they made me memorize.

But man did I misbehave. I don’t think any other girl in school got their knuckles rapped as much as I did.

And there were absolutely no boys…

Even though I was 1000% boy crazy.

I got picked up by some middle-aged asshole in a suit on Friday afternoon…

Escorted back to the palazzo where I spent the entire weekend in lockdown…

And then taken back to the convent bright and early Monday morning.

The only boys I saw were as we rode through the canals on a boat –

And the television shows I watched online.

And did I watch me some shows online.

Only Netflix, Hulu, and HBO Max, though. Nona wasn’t exactly up on how the internet worked, but she knew enough to get her consigliere Silvio to block any porn sites. (I think he had to do it, anyway, because otherwise all the mafia goons would watch porn on their phones over wifi.)

However, neither Nona nor Silvio thought to bar me from watching Netflix or any of the other streaming services.

So I had a field day.

Euphoria… Elite… Bridgerton… some Spanish show I don’t remember the title of, but it was basically a bunch of hot twentysomething roommates fucking…

And the movies: 50 Shades of Grey and the sequels… 365 Days… The Next 365 Days… 365 Days This Day…

(You can tell I liked the 365 Days movies.)

One thing I noticed, though:

They were all about showing tits and ass, but very little dick.

Certainly no hard dicks.

And I realized that all those shows were the equivalent of my grandmother’s mafia thugs:

Talking about the women they fucked, and showing the women they fucked, and lots of times mistreating the women they fucked…

All from a male viewer’s perspective.

(Mostly. Bridgerton was pretty cool.)

But despite all that, I was still dying to start having sex.

So when I finally got to leave the convent and enroll in university, I entered my ‘open for business’ era.

Yes, I slept with a lot of guys.

(Well, what I could accomplish while having to be back home at the palazzo by 2 AM on Friday and Saturday nights. Weeknights were even worse.)

And no, most of the guys weren’t very good in bed.

None of them were that satisfying. I only came twice, and that was because I took matters into my own hands, if you know what I’m sayin’.

Most of them just sucked. Three minutes and it was over.

A couple of times it was, like, 60 seconds or less.

And I’m only counting the ones who weren’t too drunk to get it up. There were another dozen of those.

Four or five were pretty good. Those were the ones who got invited back.

But even those guys I didn’t keep around very long. I fucked ‘em a few times and threw ‘em away.

Once I got bored, they were gone.

Or…

…once I started to feel something for them.

Were they pieces of shit outside the bedroom?

Well – they were men, right?

But I didn’t find out. Not conclusively. I didn’t let them hang around long enough to show me they were like the assholes who worked for my grandmother. That was one thing I wasn’t about to chance.

I’d heard too much shit sitting on the stairwell at nine years old to ever trust a man farther than I could throw him.

So the vast majority of the guys I went home with were one-night stands. A few I hooked up with a couple more times…

But I never had a boyfriend.

I definitely never fell in love.

Besides, my vibrator was a hell of a lot more satisfying. And consistent, too.

I mean, having sex was fun. Don’t get me wrong.

The best part was the flirting… and the build-up… and the anticipation…

But the ‘main event’ was usually anticlimactic, to say the least.

But if I wasn’t really into the sex, then why do it?

I think it was because I was locked up in the convent and Nona’s palazzo my entire life. Couldn’t do anything, couldn’t go anywhere, definitely couldn’t see any boys.

I mean, I was raised in a literal convent, for God’s sake.

So when I was finally free at 18, I went wild.

Because I could.

Because everybody told me You can’t –

So I was like, Fuck you. Hold my beer.

But the thing that infuriated me the most was knowing how I’d be judged if people knew what I was doing.

A guy sleeps with 20 women by the time he’s 21, he’s a fuckin’ stud.

A woman does it, and she’s a slut, a whore, a – whatever horrible name you want to call her.

It was like the system was designed by all those fucking mafia assholes I listened to from the stairwell when I was nine.

They could do whatever they wanted… lie, cheat, insult women, abuse them…

And nobody would ever call them on their bullshit. Not even my grandmother.

And they would badmouth the women they were sleeping with.

The women who gave their bodies to these men –

In some cases, who gave their hearts to them –

Those mafia douchebags would just shit all over them behind their backs and laugh about it.

To be honest, I kind of hated men.

And it’s a special kind of hell to be attracted to something you hate.

Even worse, to be attracted to something that could kill you.

So when Massimo called me a slut…

I wanted to kill him.

In that second, he was like every other mafioso scumbag I’d overheard in the stairwell.

I’d started to think Massimo might be different –

But he wasn’t.

He was judge-y –

So quick to label me –

And a coward.

I knew he wanted me.

He just wouldn’t act on it because he was scared shitless of Nona – just like all the rest.

But he sure as hell felt comfortable telling me what he thought of me.

He’d judge me all day long.

Put me down with insults…

Just like all the fuckin’ mafiosos did with every woman in their lives.

Fuckin’ asshole.

It was a good reminder that no matter how hot Massimo was…

And no matter how much he said he wanted to keep me safe…

He was still the enemy.

Never forget that.

35

Massimo

I was finishing up with my backpack when Lucia came out of the bathroom.

She was wearing a sweatshirt, which was good. But she went back to the bedroom in a pouty little fit.

Fuck her. She could go stew for a while.

If she didn’t try to antagonize me all the time, all this would all be so much easier.

Once the food was packed, I went to the bedroom. She was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

She looked angry. Cold angry. The kind that would slip a knife in your back and twist it.

Which made me hesitate about the next step – but it had to be done.

Her eyes narrowed to slits when she saw me. “Fuck off.”

“Gladly, but first I need to show you something,” I said as I went over to the gun safe in the corner of the room and punched in the code.

“I don’t give a shit.”

“Well, you will if someone comes after us, so you better pay attention.”

I opened the safe and pulled out a shotgun.

That got her attention.

She sat up on the bed. “What are you doing?”

“Teaching you how to use this.”

Her eyes went wide. “…really?”

“Yeah. I’m assuming you don’t know how to handle a shotgun – or do you?”

“No.” She paused, then said, “They wouldn’t teach me how to shoot anything.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to cover pistols, too. Come on.”

I walked out of the bedroom.

She quickly followed.

I guess curiosity had overtaken her anger.

We went outside and I turned to face her. “I don’t want you to fire the guns, because I don’t want anybody to hear it and know we’re here – but I’m going to show you how to use them, at least.

“This is a hunting shotgun. I use it for ptarmigans and grouse, two types of gamebird you find in the woods, but it’s equally effective at killing someone.

“A shotgun has a big advantage over pistols or rifles: you don’t have to aim. The downside is it’s not as good over a distance. But as long as your target’s within 10 or 15 feet and you point it in the right direction, you’ve got a damn good chance of hitting what you’re aiming at. That’s because instead of a single bullet, you’ve got a lot of little balls called ‘shot’ that explode out of the barrel. They expand outwards in a circular pattern – ”

“I know how a shotgun works,” she said snippily.

“Alright, then,” I said, refusing to get irritated. “Moving on.

“The most important thing is safety first. You always assume a gun is loaded. You do not point it at anyone unless you intend to kill them. Always keep your finger outside this trigger guard until you’re ready to fire.

“I can’t tell you how many stories I’ve heard where an idiot walked around with his finger on the trigger, stumbled, and either shot off his own foot or accidentally killed someone else. So always keep your finger outside the trigger guard unless you’re ready to kill somebody.

“This is a double-barreled shotgun, but there’s only one trigger. You pull the trigger, both barrels will fire. It’s also got internal hammers, so you don’t have to cock anything in order to shoot.”

I showed her the safety, a sliding plate on the gun’s stock with a little bump to push against. “That’s the safety. You have to push it up in order to fire the gun. If it’s back, like this, the gun won’t fire.”

I pushed the two-inch-long release lever and broke open the breach. “This is the lever to open the gun. You slide the shells in there. I’m going to put some buckshot shells in there. Buckshot is big enough that it’ll fuck up anybody within 10 feet of you, no problem.

“The gun’s always going to be loaded with the safety on. I doubt you’ll need to reload – if you do, we’re in the middle of a firefight and in some serious trouble – but just know that this is how you open the barrel, with that lever.”

I ran through more of the basics, then showed her how to hold the gun.

In order to do that, I had to stand behind her with my arms on either side of her body.

I was very aware of her curves… especially her ass… but I kept my pelvis back so I wouldn’t brush up against her.

There was still the barest hint of her perfume from the other day. Between her scent and her body, it was difficult not to get aroused – but I focused on the gun and pretended a killer was standing in front of us.

“The most important thing is you’ve got to make sure the gun is seated against your shoulder, like this,” I said, pushing the butt of the stock against her shoulder. “A shotgun’s got a hell of a recoil. You’re going to have to make sure it’s placed firmly against your shoulder or it’s going to knock you backwards and give you a hell of a bruise.

“You can look down the barrel with your right eye and line up the sights, but like I said, the big advantage of a shotgun is you can just point it and pull the trigger. The way the pellets expand will do the rest. Any questions?”

“Why can’t I try it out?” she asked.

“You can. Pull the trigger all you want.”

“No, I mean, why can’t I actually shoot it?”

“Like I said, I don’t want to advertise our presence here. Besides, this is the one type of gun you don’t need to practice a whole lot to use effectively. I don’t want you firing it unless it’s the absolute last resort.”

“Like if somebody finds us and they’re trying to kill us,” she said quietly.

“Exactly.”

After that, I showed her the Sig Sauer I’d pulled off the mercenary, the one I’d shot in the boat. I went through the basics and had her dry-fire the gun a couple of times, then showed her how to load a fresh magazine and eject it once it was out of bullets.

“You’ve got to be a hell of a lot more precise with a pistol than a shotgun,” I said. “Ordinarily, you’d have to shoot a thousand rounds before you were any good with a pistol – but the shotgun will get it done on the first try.”

Once I was finished, I handed her the Sig.

She stared at me with big eyes. “This is mine?”

“Yeah. Like I said, this is life and death you’re holding. No fucking around and pointing it at me, even if you’re joking – okay?”

“…okay,” she said somberly.

“Alright, let’s go back inside and finish packing.”

“Why are you packing?” she asked as she followed me. I noticed that all her anger from earlier was gone.

“Because we need to leave.”

“Why?”

“I already told you – there’s a slim chance my uncle and cousin know about this cabin. And if that’s the case, we need to go find somewhere else.”

“Where are we going to stay?”

“There are tons of cabins up here. Some people come in the summertime, and a few live in them year-round, but most owners have them for ski season and don’t come up here any other time. All we have to do is find a place that’s deserted and far away from everybody else, and we should be okay.”

“How do we find them?”

“We go hiking.”

“And…?”

“And keep on hiking until we find one that looks like it’s deserted.”

She stared at me. “You’re joking.”

“Have you ever known me to joke about any of this, even once?”

“…no,” she grumbled.

“Exactly.” I grabbed the JanSport I’d bought at the store and pushed it into her arms. “Go pack your clothes. We’ll eat a quick lunch, and then we’re heading out.”

“What about the car?”

“We’re leaving it here.”

“Why?”

“Because this place is at the end of the road. From here on out, we’re walking through the woods.”

“…okay,” she said, and I was surprised she didn’t offer any more resistance.

36

Lucia

Before lunch, Massimo asked if I wanted to take a shower.

“That’s a hard no.”

“I turned on the water heater before we went to town,” he said. “It should be warm by now, and wherever we wind up tonight probably won’t have hot water.”

“Oh… well, in that case…”

I took the shower. The water was only a few degrees above lukewarm, but it was enough.

I didn’t wash my hair, though. The outside air was cool, even at midday, and I didn’t want to catch a cold as we hiked.

As I showered, I thought about the lesson Massimo had given me on guns.

Nona had never wanted me to touch them. And her goons certainly never taught me anything.

Massimo had been the first person ever to teach me how to handle a gun…

And it felt like power.

Like he’d snuck me into a secret club that had previously denied me entrance.

Because of that, I liked him again.

At least a little.

I was still irritated about the ‘slut’ comment…

But I was a bit more inclined to cut him some slack.

After I dried off, I dressed in a new outfit from the store and felt a lot better – clean and refreshed.

When I came out of the bathroom, Massimo gestured at a selection of cans. “Pick whatever you want for lunch.”

“Oooh, luxurious,” I joked.

I chose some canned pasta. He had beans and tuna.

“Well, I’m not walking behind you,” I said as we ate. “You’re gonna be a fart machine.”

He didn’t bother to respond.

After we finished, he packed the can opener and put the garbage outside in a bear-proof trash container.

And then we were off.

I only had to carry my little JanSport, a canteen full of water, and the shotgun. Oh, and my Birkin, of course. No fucking way I was going to leave that behind.

He, on the other hand, had his big-ass backpack, a canteen, and a hunting rifle slung over his shoulder on a strap – plus he carried a five-gallon plastic container of water in each hand.

“Why are we taking so much water with us?” I asked.

“Just in case wherever we wind up doesn’t have running water,” he answered. “Most of these places use well water, and if the electric pump is broken or something’s wrong, I don’t want to go without drinking water.”

“You really think we won’t have running water?”

“No, but it’s a possibility.”

“What about going to the bathroom?”

“I brought rolls of toilet paper with me. If you need to, you can always go out in the forest.”

“Wonderful.”

There weren’t any trails to follow; we just sort of meandered through the underbrush.

The woods were beautiful. For the first 30 minutes, I just looked all around me, taking in the sights and listening to the birds.

And then I got bored.

After half an hour of trees and ferns, they all start to look the same.

Same with the birds chirping.

So I started talking to Massimo to entertain myself.

“I never really asked you – why is all this shit happening?” I asked.

“Because there are people chasing you and trying to kidnap you.”

“Yeah, I got that part. But why? And how are your uncle and cousin mixed up in it?”

“Remember back at the university when you accused my family of killing the Agrellas in Florence?”

“Of course.”

“My brothers and I didn’t do it. But we think my uncle and cousin did – in partnership with a man from Sicily.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with my grandmother?”

“We think Fausto and Aurelio wanted to turn the Five Families against us. Rome, Venice, Sicily, Naples, and Milan. And we suspect that my cousin was the one who hired the mercenaries in Venice to go after your grandmother.”

“But why?”

“If Fausto gets the okay from the Five Families to wipe us out, he could take over our territory without being shunned by the rest of the Cosa Nostra. If the Five Families think he turned on his own flesh and blood for nothing other than money, they’d ostracize him at best – and probably wipe him out at worst. Fausto doesn’t want that, so the best option is to make us look like a bunch of backstabbing savages so he’s justified in slitting our throats.”

“This is all fascinating,” I said sarcastically, “but you still haven’t told me why a bunch of mercenaries tried to kill my grandmother and kidnap me.”

Massimo grew quiet.

I continued. “I mean, if your uncle got Nona to think you and your brothers are a bunch of psychos because of what happened in Florence, what possible reason was there to send a bunch of assassins to kill her? And why now? Besides the fact that – ”

Suddenly it clicked.

I stopped in my tracks.

He turned to look at me, and I saw the guilty look on his face.

“You,” I said, shocked. “It was because you came to visit her… and that’s why they tried to kill her.”

“We actually think they were trying to take her captive – ”

“OH, that’s SO much better,” I said angrily. “We were doing just fine until YOU waltzed through the front door!”

“If they were willing to go after your grandmother yesterday, they would have eventually gone after her no matter what – ”

“You don’t know that!” I shouted. “They might’ve just been happy with your shitty little piece of Tuscany and left the rest of us alone!”

Now Massimo started to get angry. “But they didn’t leave you alone. They attacked your grandmother – they came after you – ”

“Because YOU were there! No other fucking reason! Did Rome get attacked? Did Naples or Sicily?!”

“…not that we know of, no,” he admitted.

“You fucking asshole,” I seethed. “Acting like you’re doing me such a big favor… keeping me safe… bossing me around and acting like a DICK… and it’s ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT I’M IN THIS SITUATION IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

“Your grandmother doesn’t blame us for this,” he snapped.

“Well, I’m not my grandmother,” I snarled. “And maybe the only reason she’s SAID she doesn’t blame you is because you’re the only thing standing between me and a bunch of assholes. Assholes who came after me BECAUSE of you.”

“Lucia – ”

“Go FUCK yourself. And do me a favor: don’t fucking talk to me anymore.”

I turned around and started stomping through the woods.

He followed behind me in silence.

37

Massimo

Lucia was smart.

She was also a bitch –

But she was smart, I’d give her that.

She’d deduced the one inconvenient fact behind the entire shitshow of the last 24 hours:

That ultimately, my brothers and I were the reason behind everything that had happened.

The attack on the palazzo…

The kidnappers at the university…

The two of us being forced to go on the lam.

Now, I took it for granted that murder and mayhem were just part of being in the Cosa Nostra.

(And of having treacherous relatives, although that was a different matter.)

The Widow certainly didn’t seem to blame us for bringing a war to her doorstep…

But I couldn’t deny what Lucia had said.

There was a 99% chance that none of this would have ever happened if I hadn’t flown to Venice yesterday morning.

So I could understand Lucia being angry…

But I was angry, too.

I’d risked my life any number of times to save both her and her grandmother.

But…

That argument didn’t hold much water when it was me who had put them in danger in the first place.

I didn’t feel bad about that. Like I said – part of being in the Cosa Nostra.

The Widow knew the risks and the downsides.

And Fausto and Aurelio were ultimately the ones to blame.

But it wasn’t like I could feign total innocence in all of this.

Still, Lucia’s attitude rankled me…

Maybe because I knew she was right. Or at least partially right.

One good thing about her figuring it out, though:

She didn’t talk to me for the next two hours. Not even to complain.

So there was a huge upside to her being a bitch, for once.

38

We came across half a dozen cabins during our multi-hour hike through the woods.

Three weren’t suitable because people were staying in them, evidenced by the cars and Jeeps parked outside.

Of the other three, one looked uninhabited – but there were a couple more cabins down the road that were inhabited. I didn’t care for nosy neighbors stopping by, so that one was out.

There was another that could have been a good fit, but it was even smaller than my place. I did not relish the idea of spending another night in the same bed as Lucia, so I ruled that one out.

The final option was huge – at least twice as big as my cabin, which probably meant at least two bedrooms. No car, no neighbors, plus the windows were dirty and covered with cobwebs, meaning no one had been there for a while.

There was a small barn out back that was big enough to house a couple of horses, though it looked like it had been empty for years.

One other factor in my decision: the sun had already slipped behind the mountains. It would be another hour before it finally set, but the light was fading fast, and the temperature was falling even more rapidly. I could tell it would be a cold one, even colder than last night.

Which meant we really couldn’t gamble on walking another mile or two.

So it was either this place or the tiny cabin we’d passed half an hour before.

I decided on this one.

“Are you serious?!” Lucia asked disdainfully.

“It’s big enough that there should be a separate bedroom for you,” I said.

“What good is that if we’re staying in a shithole?”

“You want to walk back to that smaller cabin we passed half an hour ago, be my guest.”

“It was just a smaller shithole,” she muttered, but she followed me over to the back door.

I tried the handle. Locked.

I searched for a key in the immediate area but turned up nothing.

The door had a window with four panes, so I took out my Glock and used the butt of the gun to smash the glass closest to the lock. I raked out all the tiny jagged pieces sticking up from the wooden frame, then carefully stuck my hand through and unlatched the lock.

We walked in to find a far more rustic cabin than mine, with none of the upgrades I’d spent tens of thousands of dollars on. All the walls looked rough-hewn, and the furniture had a fine layer of dust over everything.

“Jesus,” Lucia muttered as I set down my backpack, rifle, and the canisters of water. “I didn’t know when I called it a ‘shithole’ that I was being generous.”

I flicked a light switch –

And nothing happened.

“This gets better all the time,” she groaned.

“Hold on,” I said.

I searched in the nearest pantry – which was completely devoid of food – and found the fuse box. But there was a problem.

“Looks like mice might have chewed through the electrical lines,” I said.

“Mice?!” Lucia yelled.

“What, you think a place out in the woods isn’t going to have mice?”

“Yours didn’t!”

“Mine was built up off the ground, and I made sure every nook and cranny was sealed off. This place is different.”

“Yeah, it’s different, all right,” she muttered.

I tried the kitchen water. There was a shrieking brwAAAMP for a second, and then water began coming out of the tap.

“At least there’s water,” I said.

“Freezing cold, too, I’ll bet.”

“Yeah, but at least you don’t have to go in an outhouse in the woods.”

“This is the outhouse in the woods,” she snapped.

The stove was electric, so neither it nor the range worked.

There was no food in the house at all – just plates, glasses, and cutlery.

Since we didn’t have electricity, I didn’t want to waste the charge on my phone – so I looked around for a flashlight. I found one in a kitchen drawer. The batteries were weak, but it gave off enough of a yellowish beam to see the house’s darkened interior.

There were three separate bedrooms – one queen-size and two with double twins. The comforters kicked up a cloud of dust when I slapped them, but the sheets looked clean.

“See? You can have your own bed tonight,” I said.

“Wonderful,” she said sarcastically. “Can we at least start a fire? I’m fucking freezing.”

There had been a stone fireplace in the main room but no wood.

However, there was a canvas carrier folded by the hearth – and an ax and small hatchet lying on top of it.

“Stay here, I’ll go find something,” I said as I took the ax, hatchet, and carrier outdoors.

I headed for the barn first to see if there was any wood stacked inside.

No luck. There were some empty feed bins, a loft, and assorted odds and ends – but no stacked wood.

I thought about chopping off some of the crumbling wood structure but decided I didn’t want to be an asshole. It was bad enough that we were using the property for shelter; no need to destroy it, too.

There wasn’t any wood stacked outside the barn, either – but I still hit the jackpot, in a way.

A small oak behind the barn must have fallen over years ago. The owners had cut it into circular cross-sections with a chainsaw. Now the wood was seasoned and ready for the fireplace.

I just had to chop it first, so I set to work.

I picked the most manageable-looking cross-section, about two feet tall and two feet in diameter.

Then I raised my ax and swung.

THOCK.

I pried it out of the wood, raised it up in the air, and swung again.

THOCK.

Would’ve been easier with a sledgehammer and maul, but beggars can’t be choosers.

And though I could have looked for the chainsaw to see if it was still around, I didn’t bother. I hadn’t seen any sign of it in the house or the barn.

Even if I could find it… and even if there was oil and gas… the ax was fine by me.

I was used to chopping wood like this because I did it at my cabin. Not because I needed to, but because I enjoyed it. The physical activity was a kind of meditation.

Now it helped get my mind off of Lucia and the mess we were in.

But mostly off of Lucia.

THOCK.

Her ass –

THOCK.

Her going topless with her arm over her chest –

THOCK.

Her huge eyes –

THOCK –

The cylinder split down the middle into two pieces.

Even in the cool air, I was beginning to sweat, so I peeled off my flannel and set it on the nearest cross-section of oak.

When I turned around, Lucia was walking towards me from the house. She was wearing the jacket I’d bought her, which up until now had been in her JanSport.

I was not happy to see her.

“I’ll be done in a few minutes,” I told her.

“Okay,” she said – and still kept coming closer.

“There’s nothing you can do out here.”

“I can watch you. There’s not exactly a whole lot of other entertainment to be had.” She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the barn wall. “Don’t let me stop you, mountain man.”

I glowered at her but didn’t say anything.

Then I put one half of the split wood on a bigger cross-section and continued my task.

THOCK.

THOCK.

THOCK.

39

Lucia

I was pulling my jacket out of my backpack when I heard the first thock of the ax.

I looked over idly through the window into the backyard –

And immediately felt a little tingle between my legs.

Massimo was an asshole, yes.

He’d endangered me while claiming he was saving me, yes.

But…

He was also fucking hot.

And seeing him swing an ax like that…

God damn.

Just the utter strength on display as he swung it…

Around my grandmother’s palazzo, I was used to mafia goons with pot bellies.

And most of the guys I’d slept with were kind of slender, or they’d gone a bit too overboard in the gym and walked around like musclebound lunks.

Massimo was different.

Yeah, he was huge…

And yeah, he was muscular…

But he moved different. Like his strength came from lifting shit and swinging axes instead of pushing a metal bar above his head six times in a row.

So when he started chopping wood…

It was something I’d only seen in movies.

And it was hot.

I stood there mesmerized.

The way the muscles stood out in his forearms…

The way the cords in his neck flared…

What I would’ve given for him to take off his clothes and do it bare-chested. That would have been something to see.

And then… I halfway got my wish.

He finished splitting one of the sections of tree trunk, then took off his plaid shirt.

Underneath, his white t-shirt was so tight it looked molded to his body like a second skin.

Now I could see his biceps bulging…

His chest muscles pressing hard against the cloth.

And there was his spectacular ass filling out his jeans.

Well fuck, I’m not missing out on THIS show.

As he put the shirt down, I walked out the back door and started strolling over.

When he glanced at me, he looked annoyed – like he thought I was impatient about building a fire or something.

I wasn’t about to admit the real reason I’d come outside.

“I’ll be done in a few minutes,” he said.

“Okay,” I replied.

“There’s nothing you can do out here.”

“I can watch you.” That was kind of a cheeky little confession, but I followed it up with, “There’s not exactly a whole lot of other entertainment to be had. Don’t let me stop you, mountain man.”

He shot me a dirty look, then went back to chopping…

And I went back to admiring.

THOCK.

His broad shoulders…

THOCK.

His gigantic arms…

CHUNK.

When he grabbed a piece of wood, his hands were just massive.

I remembered something else massive, too.

Something I’d had my hand around this morning…

I searched his jeans for what I was looking for and found it.

A long, solid outline under the denim extended part of the way down his right thigh.

Fuuuuuuuuck.

Even soft, he was bigger than any of the guys I’d ever had sex with.

I imagined what it would look like if he was chopping wood naked…

Would it dangle there? Swing back and forth?

I was starting to get really horny.

Yes, I hated the guy…

But dick is dick.

And a huge dick attached to a specimen of physical perfection… well…

There’s only so far you can push a girl before she breaks.

Throw in doing something uber-manly that I’d only seen in movies before, and I was a goner.

I could hate him again later.

For now, I preferred to watch.

He split two of the big circular logs into 16 smaller pieces, then used the hatchet to chip off lots of long, thin strands of wood.

“What’s that for?” I asked.

“Kindling,” he replied, then stacked everything onto the canvas carrier.

Then he heaved it up in the air and slung it over his shoulder like it was… well, not nothing, but not a big deal.

There must have been well over a hundred pounds of wood in that carrier, but he handled it like I would my JanSport.

He looked like a ripped Saint Nicholas with a brown beard and a package of presents over his shoulder.

I wish I could get a different kind of present tonight…

I glanced down at his crotch beneath his jeans.

A different kind of wood, you might say…

“Alright, let’s go,” he said as he carried the canvas sling on his back and the ax and hatchet in his free hand.

“Yes sir,” I said with a smirk. I followed behind him so I could watch his ass in those tight jeans. It was all I could do not to reach out and grab it.

40

Massimo

By the time I brought the wood inside, twilight was turning into complete darkness. The combination of the sun setting and the thick forest all around us made everything much darker, much earlier.

I arranged some logs in the fireplace atop the kindling and some scrap paper I’d found in the kitchen. Then I used the lighter I’d brought from my cabin. Within seconds, tiny flames began licking at the bigger pieces of wood. Within minutes, we had a crackling fire and a new source of light.

“What do you want for dinner?” I asked Lucia.

She looked through our collection and handed over a can of soup.

“Okay, hold on,” I said as I walked over to the kitchen.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for something to heat the soup up.”

“I thought the power was off.”

“We have a new source of power,” I said as I pointed at the fire.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s not a problem.”

I found a cast iron skillet in the kitchen. Using a pile of rocks from outside to prop it up over the flames, I heated up the soup. Then I grabbed the skillet handle with a towel and poured the contents into a bowl.

“Mmm… not gonna lie, it tastes a lot better hot,” she said as she ate. Then she frowned as I opened a can of green beans and speared some with a fork. “Aren’t you going to warm yours up?”

“No, I’m good.”

“But – ”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

After I went through a few more cans of food, I put three more logs on the fire. Then I searched the kitchen and found a bottle of brandy. Not great stuff, but not awful, either. I would’ve preferred scotch or wine, but at least it was something.

“You want some?” I asked.

“Sure, why not.”

I poured us each a small glass and carried them over to the fire. I gave one to Lucia, then stretched out on the floor in front of the fire.

“Bleh,” Lucia said as she took a sip.

“You can always pour it out.”

“No, it’s fine,” she said, and guarded her glass like it was a gold coin I wanted to steal.

As I soaked up the heat and relaxed, I finally said something that had been bothering me for hours.

“I’m sorry I got you into this mess.”

Lucia looked over at me in surprise but didn’t say anything.

“You were right,” I continued. “If I hadn’t shown up in Venice yesterday, there’s a good chance none of this would have happened. I don’t know how my cousin knew I was coming to Venice, but the fact that those mercenaries attacked when I was with your grandmother indicates they were targeting me as much as they were targeting her. And when that didn’t work, they went after you to get to her. So… I’m sorry I got you involved in this.”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment.

I thought she might be building up a laundry list of complaints –

But instead, she surprised me.

“Do you think you guys have a mole in your organization?”

In all the confusion of the last 24 hours, I’d forgotten Niccolo had mentioned that very possibility.

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “My brother’s looking into it… but there could be a bug, too.”

“Wouldn’t they need a mole to place a listening device?

“Not necessarily. My uncle was my family’s consigliere until my father’s death last year. He could have planted listening devices around the house before he left.” My voice grew dark as I realized the implications of what I was saying. “Especially if he was planning all this shit from the very beginning.”

“Why’d your uncle leave?”

I gave a bitter laugh. “To start a new organization… with our blessing. We split up the family empire and gave him half. We didn’t realize he’d try to slit our throats to get our share.”

“Was your uncle always a dick?”

“No. My cousin was – he was a mean-spirited, spoiled little brat. None of us liked him… but we all loved our uncle.”

“What about your aunt?”

“She died when I was a child. I barely remember her.”

“Was your uncle your father’s brother, or – ”

“Yeah.”

“So it makes sense he became your father’s consigliere,” she said.

“I guess.” I smiled darkly. “My father should’ve looked a little bit further in his job search, seeing as Fausto killed him.”

That shocked her.

“What?!”

“It was actually an old female servant who poisoned my father. When we found out the truth a few months ago, she told us it was to get revenge on my father for killing her husband and son – so we always just assumed she was acting on her own. But now it’s looking more and more like my uncle has been pulling all the puppet strings on everything that happened to us this last year.”

“Jesus… is your mother okay?”

“She died when I was 17. Breast cancer. She was sick for a long time, and…”

I trailed off as I stared into the fire.

“I’m sorry,” Lucia said quietly.

“Thank you,” I murmured, then pushed away my sad memories. “Your grandmother raised you, right?”

Out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed that Lucia tensed a little.

“Yes.”

“When did your parents die?”

She waited a second before she replied. “When I was young.”

“How did they die?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Her tone was cold and distant – very unlike her normal way of speaking.

I was used to sarcasm or her telling me to go fuck myself. I’d never heard her react like this.

I knew I was treading someplace I ought not to go… so I didn’t press any further.

“Okay,” I said simply.

We just sat by the fire in silence, sipping our brandy, until the flames died out.

41

Lucia

After the fire was down to embers, Massimo said, “I think it’s time for bed.”

It was still early, around 8 PM… but I was tired from hiking all afternoon, and the brandy had made me sleepy. I agreed without a fight.

Massimo led the way into one of the smaller bedrooms. The only light now was what little moonlight filtered through the trees outside. And without the fire to warm me, I was quickly growing cold.

“If you need anything, I’ll be right next door,” he said, then started to walk out.

I pulled back the covers and felt the sheets. “The bed’s fucking freezing,” I complained.

He looked back at me. “Well, the other option is sleeping next to me again, and neither of us wants that, so…”

“Great,” I muttered.

“Just wear a full set of clothes to bed. You’ll warm up soon enough.”

He waited for me to say something else. When I didn’t, he added, “Goodnight,” and then walked out.

I could hear the floorboards creaking under his heavy footsteps as he went into the next room.

I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off my boots. I would have loved to have taken a shower, but I was not going to suffer through the icy cold water, so that option was out.

I crawled under the freezing sheets and lay there, trying to will the bed to get warm.

Didn’t work.

And now that I was lying down, I started to get bothered by the tightness of my clothes.

The yoga pants and sports bra were fine when I was up and about, but now they felt like they were constricting me… like they were made of rubber bands and were pressing into my skin.

I liked comfort when I slept, and this wasn’t it.

I had a choice: comfortable and cold, or uncomfortable with a tiny bit of warmth.

I chose comfortable and cold.

I got out of bed and quickly stripped down to my thong. Once my sports bra was off, I put my t-shirt back on for what little heat it still offered and got back under the covers.

The ice-cold, freezing covers.

As I lay there shivering, I tried to distract myself by thinking about what had happened since dinner.

More than anything, I thought back to Massimo’s apology for getting me into this mess.

Nobody in my entire life had ever said they were sorry.

Nona’s number one rule in life was Never apologize for anything.

Her mafia goons? They didn’t apologize to me for shit.

The nuns in the convent had been even worse. If they fucked up, they blamed me for it instead.

Nobody else in my life had ever apologized.

None of my friends, none of the guys I’d ever slept with –

…but Massimo had.

That affected me in a way I couldn’t explain.

I…

I almost felt like I wanted to cry.

It was probably just the brandy.

Or maybe the talk of how Massimo’s mother and father had died.

I could still hear the pain in his voice.

Grief was to be expected with his father. After all, it had been – what, a year? Maybe less?

But when he talked about his mother, it was like she’d died only a short time ago, too.

He’d sounded so sad, it made me want to cry even more.

So when he’d told me he was sorry…

It meant something to me.

A memory came back to me: the one time in my life Nona had ever said she was sorry.

I was six years old… right after it happened.

I remember Nona took me in her arms and rocked me.

Her voice was so sad…

I’m so sorry, my sweet girl… I’m so sorry…

I felt myself spiraling down into darkness and grief.

I tried to push it out of my mind –

But I couldn’t.

I felt the first warnings of a panic attack coming on.

I tried to concentrate on my breathing –

But it just made it worse.

I tried concentrating on the noises around me –

But all I heard was the creak of wood and the sighing of the wind outside.

I felt totally and completely alone…

And I couldn’t bear it.

I would rather die than be alone.

I slipped out of bed and walked down the hall to Massimo’s room.

I opened the door. I didn’t bother to knock because I didn’t want him to tell me to go away.

“Massimo?”

Moonlight shone through his window, and I could both see and hear him shift under the covers as he looked over at me.

“What?” he asked, obviously annoyed.

“Can I get in bed with you?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“Why?” he snapped.

I didn’t want to tell him the real reason, so I just went with the obvious.

“I’m cold.”

I could feel his eyes roving over me in the moonlight.

“Put on some pants,” he said.

“It’s uncomfortable to sleep in.”

“So go to the other bedroom and grab an extra blanket.”

“It’s still freezing.”

He was angry. “Lucia – ”

“Look, I just – I’m scared, okay? I don’t want to be alone.” I paused. “AND I’m freezing.”

He sighed, obviously irritated. “No bullshit, alright? No flirting, no grab-ass, no rubbing up against me – none of that. Got it?”

At first I said, “Okay, yeah, whatever – ”

But the words stung.

I was trying to get away from horrible memories – from a feeling of crushing loneliness –

And he thought it was all about him. Cuz he was just so hawt –

My anger temporarily overwhelmed my fear and sadness.

“You know what?” I snapped. “Never mind.”

I turned to go –

“Lucia,” he growled, his voice dark.

I stopped, my hand on the doorknob.

I’d never heard him use that tone of voice before.

Deep and angry… with an edge of something darker underneath.

It made my heart skip a beat…

And not necessarily in a bad way.

“…what,” I whispered.

“Get in the fucking bed.”

My heart didn’t just skip a beat this time…

It hammered in my chest.

I padded over nervously and slipped under the covers.

Still cold as fucking ice, though.

“Can I… can I get up next to you?” I asked.

“No. Stay there.”

I didn’t say anything…

But as the cold seeped deeper into my body, my teeth started chattering. No joke.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” he snarled.

“I’m not,” I said as my teeth clacked.

Then my body started shaking.

Massimo groaned, then said, “Alright. FINE.”

I hurriedly scooted underneath the covers and pressed my body up against his.

His back was turned to me, and I pressed my own back to his.

He was only wearing his boxers again, and my ass and legs pressed against a lot of his bare skin.

Plus his astoundingly perfect ass.

AHHHHHHHH.

My teeth stopped chattering and my body stopped trembling.

“You really are like a furnace,” I said as my entire body relaxed from the heat.

“Mrm,” he grunted.

We lay like that for a while… and I thought about what he’d said in front of the fire.

And I started to feel a little weepy again.

I thought about saying Thank you for saying you’re sorry, but it felt a little weird… bringing up that specific thing from an hour before…

So I did the next best thing I could think of.

“I’m… sorry about your uncle. And your mom. And your dad.”

It came out a little stilted.

I guess that was to be expected. When I said that nobody had ever apologized to me before, the flip side was that I’d never apologized to anybody, either.

I guess I wasn’t apologizing, though, so much as offering sympathy.

He lay there in silence for a few seconds.

Then he said, “…thank you. And like I said, I’m sorry I put you in the middle of all this.”

“It’s okay,” I said, then immediately realized that wasn’t exactly true. “I mean, it’s not okay – it sucks – but it’s not your fault. I mean, it is your fault, but… you didn’t mean to.”

That did not come out the way I’d wanted.

His voice turned sarcastic. “Thank you for understanding.”

As I warmed up, I began noticing more and more the gorgeous swell of his ass pressed against my body.

From there, I started thinking about him swinging the ax.

His arm muscles swelling…

His chest bulging…

His back muscles rippling…

And I thought about the big, firm, solid shape along his thigh under his jeans.

Oh God –

I tried to distract myself by talking.

“What do you think’s going to happen?”

He sounded puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… do you think your uncle’s looking for you? For us?”

“I don’t know. But we can’t take any chances.”

“What’s going to happen with my grandmother?”

“I’m going to get you back home to her safely.”

I frowned. “But… something’s got to be going on. Otherwise, you’d be taking me to her now instead of us hiding out in the woods.”

“You saw the mercenaries in that boat that was chasing us.”

“Yeah, but – why would they still be hanging around? Unless – ”

“It’s going to be fine. We’re just using an abundance of caution, that’s all.”

I smirked in the darkness. “You’re an abundantly cautious person, aren’t you.”

“Not always, no.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe whatever you want.”

My backside was nice and toasty now… but my front was cold, so I turned around.

I guess you could say I was the big spoon, and he was the little spoon…

Except he was the most gigantic ‘little spoon’ there had ever been, and I was a tiny ‘big spoon’ next to him.

But I could feel his ass pressed right up against my pelvis.

Oh God…

I wanted SO MUCH to grab it…

I contented myself with lifting my shirt so I could press my cold stomach against his warm back.

“Lucia,” he said in a pissed-off voice.

“What?” I asked defensively, although I knew what he was about to say.

“I said no bullshit.”

“This isn’t bullshit – I’m just trying to get warm.”

“You lifted up your shirt.”

“My tits are still covered!” I snapped.

“And they’re pressed against my back!”

“Ohhhh, I’m so sorry I have body parts.”

“You know what? This isn’t working out. Go back to your room.”

Back in my room, it was freezing –

And there were bad memories.

Memories I would do anything to escape.

“No,” I said defiantly.

He jerked around so he could glare at me. “Get OUT.”

At this point I couldn’t exactly back down, so I said, “You wanna be alone so bad, you go get in the other bed. This one’s warm.”

“Those twin beds are tiny – this one is barely big enough for me – ”

“Whatever,” I said angrily, and turned my back towards him. “There, my tits aren’t up against you anymore – happy?”

“No. Get out. NOW.”

“Why don’t YOU fuck OFF.”

And that’s when he scared the shit out of me.

He jumped up out of bed and ripped the sheets off of me.

“I said GET OUT!”

But he’d made a mistake.

In the moonlight from the window, I could see everything.

He had a hard-on –

And God what a hard-on it was.

It was still contained within his black underwear, but it was jutting off to the side – and it was so big and long that it was pulling the waistband of his boxers away from his body.

“Holy shit,” I exclaimed – then laughed. “So THAT’S what this is all about.”

“What WHAT’S all about?!”

I snorted. “You’re turned on and hard as a rock – and you’re too much of a pussy to do anything about it.”

Wrong thing to say.

That set him off big-time.

He scowled like he was going to murder me –

Then grabbed my right ankle and effortlessly yanked me to the edge of the bed.

He moved me so fast that I felt the friction burn of the sheets against my skin.

Not gonna lie, being manhandled like that made me feel warmth somewhere else, too –

But I was pissed off and a little afraid, so I lashed out instead.

I kicked out my left leg and screamed, “I HATE YOU!”

Unluckily for me, my foot connected with his stomach.

I would have said ‘unluckily for him,’ but he probably barely felt it. It was like kicking a slightly softer version of a brick wall.

It was very unlucky for me, though, because it enraged him further.

He jerked my right ankle over the left and flipped me onto my stomach.

I scrambled to get away from him –

But my ass was sticking up in the air –

And he smacked it.

This wasn’t him spanking me when I was over his shoulder at the university, telling me to shut up.

This was him slapping my ass –

HARD.

“AAAAH!” I screamed.

It hurt –

But it also hurt SO good.

Something deep between my legs vibrated.

I wasn’t just turned on by the adrenaline and the sensation, though –

I was turned on that he’d actually done something.

I looked over my shoulder at him.

He seemed a little shocked by what he’d done…

But he was staring at my ass like he was a starving man and it was a big ol’ piece of cake.

Part of what I said next came out of my being turned on…

But it also came from those memories of him humiliating me in front of all those university students.

“That’s all you’re gonna do, huh,” I said, my voice dripping with contempt.

That snapped him out of his reverie.

He glared at me, his eyes blazing with hatred. “You’re a little fucking brat.”

“And you’re a fucking coward.”

I swear I could see sparks of rage in his eyes.

But he didn’t do anything.

So I pressed my upper body down on the bed…

Which just poked my ass up in the air even more.

My t-shirt had long since slid halfway down my back, and I only had on my thong – which meant he could see all of me.

He drank me in with his eyes. He was breathing heavily – I could see his chest heaving in the moonlight.

“I know you want me… but you’re too afraid of an old woman to take what you want,” I sneered.

“FUCK YOU,” he growled.

“Well, you won’t,” I said matter-of-factly.

He narrowed his eyes. “I told you, you couldn’t handle my cock.”

“So do something else… pussy.”

That did it.

He reared back his hand and spanked me again – hard.

“OH!” I cried out – this time more from pleasure than pain.

I turned back to look at him and hissed, “I hate you.”

“I’ll bet you do,” he snarled as he took my ass cheeks in both his hands…

And started kneading them.

Squeezing them.

Clutching them.

Oh fuck…

I was getting so turned on…

And I wanted more.

Luckily, I seemed to have found the phrase that made him give it to me.

And at the moment, it was the God’s honest truth.

“I hate you,” I sneered.

SMACK!

“Oh!” I cried out as my forehead dropped to the mattress. “I HATE you!”

SMACK!

“OH! I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU – ”

Smack! Smack! Smack!

The spankings were lighter this time –

And only one hand.

With the other, he was grabbing and cupping and squeezing my ass cheeks.

“I so fucking hate you…” I gasped.

I felt him move the string of my thong aside a couple of inches.

My eyes widened as I tensed for what came next –

But instead, there was the lightest touch imaginable…

The softest brush of one fingertip along the lips of my pussy.

“Ohhhhhhhhh,” I groaned as he caressed me between my legs.

I was already dripping wet… I knew I was… and I could feel him spreading my wetness along my skin.

“I hate you…” I whispered…

That’s when I felt his finger part me and slowly sink inside.

“OH!” I cried out.

His oversized finger was actually bigger than some of the guy’s cocks I’d had inside me.

Not nearly enough to fill me up…

But definitely enough to make me feel good.

And then he made me feel better.

He began to curl his finger downward, over and over…

Stroking my g-spot.

I gripped the sheets in my fists.

“Unnnnnhhhhh,” I moaned.

“Touch yourself,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“…w-what?” I gasped.

“Touch your clit,” he ordered, his voice dark and smoky.

I panted as I reached up between my legs with my right hand, moved aside my thong, and began to rub my clit.

“Oh fuck…” I moaned as he continued to stroke my g-spot.

Suddenly his finger pulled out of my pussy.

“Aw man, now I really hate you,” I snarled.

I’d been feeling so good – it had been so hot –

And then I heard a wet slurping sound.

I glanced over my shoulder to see him pulling two fingers out of his mouth –

Which he immediately slid inside me.

“OH GOD!” I cried out.

One of his fingers had been bigger than some of the guys I’d slept with…

But two of his fingers were thicker than all but a few of the guys I’d fucked.

And none of them had been able to magically curl their cocks to stroke my g-spot at the same time.

I whimpered as his fingers filled me up and stroked that delicious place inside me.

“Oh god, I hate you…” I whispered.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded.

I went back to rubbing myself.

I was so wet now that my juices were dripping down onto my fingers…

And I was so turned on that I could rub myself faster and harder.

I moaned in ecstasy as I felt an amazing pressure build up inside of me.

I’d squirted before – but always on my own. Never with a guy.

This felt totally different… like I was slightly out of control… like he was the one in charge of my body, and I just had to hang on for the ride.

The muscles in my belly and thighs started to tighten as I approached orgasm –

And then he pulled out of me again.

Half of the pleasure went out of me like a tire deflating.

“Oh, come ON!” I yelled, angry as hell –

And then I felt his hands on my ass.

His fingers were grabbing the strands of my thong –

Rrrrrrrip.

He tore it to pieces.

I felt it slide wetly over my skin as he pulled it off me and cast it aside.

“WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE?!” I shouted as I raised my head –

But one massive hand pushed me back down on the mattress.

“YOU FUCKING – ” I yelled –

And then I felt his thick fingers slide back inside me and start stroking my spot again.

“Oh fuck…” I moaned.

And then something else happened.

Something hot and soft and very wet touched delicately between my ass cheeks.

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head.

“Um – Massimo – ”

“Touch yourself,” he growled.

“But – ”

“TOUCH YOURSELF.”

I began touching my clit half-heartedly. I was too distracted by what was going to come next –

And then it did.

His tongue gently touched my asshole…

Circled me softly… gently…

And then eased inside me.

Hot…

Soft…

Wet…

Oh fuck.

My eyes rolled back in my head as I groaned.

“Ohhhhhhhh… oh, I fucking hate you…” I whimpered.

His tongue withdrew to the soft, wet tip –

Then plunged inside me.

“Oh FUCK I hate you…” I groaned as I began to rub my clit harder.

All the while, he was stroking my g-spot as his two fingers completely filled me up.

Then his tongue began to –

How do I put this?

There’s really no other way to say it:

He began fucking my ass with his tongue.

His face slammed against my ass cheeks…

And his tongue plunged deep inside me.

I’d tried anal once. It had been with the guy I’d seen the longest.

Once had been enough.

Painful and not fun.

But this…

His tongue was so soft and wet that there wasn’t any pain…

Just pure pleasure.

And his fingertips stroking my g-spot –

And the girth of his fingers filling up my pussy –

All while I rubbed my clit –

As his face slapped against my ass and his tongue tickled deep inside me.

I was building up to an epic orgasm – I could feel it.

I was going higher, higher, higher as his tongue slammed into me, and his fingers stroked me, and he completely filled up my pussy –

And suddenly I was coming.

And not in a way I’d ever felt before.

I squirted – that gushing release –

But at the same time I had a clitoral orgasm, sweet and throbbing –

But something else happened, too.

I think maybe I had an anal orgasm.

Maybe it was just the extra sensation while he was fucking my ass with his tongue, and it all kind of combined together in one swirling cloud of pleasure –

But either way, it was fucking awesome.

My ass started quivering and trembling as pleasure filled every bit of me below the waist.

I screamed as I came, jetting out a stream of fluid I knew was splashing his chest and soaking the sheets beneath me –

And I didn’t care.

All I cared about was the overwhelming pleasure slamming through me from head to toe.

I’d never felt anything like that before. Never.

Not by myself…

And certainly not with a guy.

Then it became too much – oversensitive and almost painful –

“STOP!” I shrieked.

His tongue immediately stopped.

His fingers quit stroking me and slowly withdrew from my pussy.

I lay there on the bed, my face sideways, my cheek smashed into the sheet, as I panted and moaned.

Aftershocks pulsed through me…

My legs trembled uncontrollably…

And my brain was mush. I wouldn’t have been able to remember my own name if you’d asked me.

“…I… fucking… hate… you…”

Although the way I said it, it was like I LOVE you.

Not that I did.

Love him, I mean.

That would be fuckin’ crazy.

I just… said it like that.

And as I lay there panting and trying to get my brain functioning again, I heard the sound of cloth dropping to the floor…

And a sentence that both insanely turned me on…

And made me a little afraid, too.

“Alright,” Massimo growled in his deep voice. “Now you’re ready for my cock.”

42

Massimo

Jesus Christ, my cock had never been so hard in my life.

Making Lucia come…

It was like a fucking religious experience.

My tongue deep inside her as I fucked her ass, feeling her warmth and softness…

My fingertips caressing the inside of her pussy…

The wet schick schick schick of her fingers, her hand a blur over her clit…

And then hot liquid spraying my neck and chest as she squirted.

And the way she screamed –

Feminine and high and out of control –

I fucking loved it.

Then she shrieked, “STOP!”

So I did.

I pulled away from her perfect ass…

And I gently slid my fingers out of her pussy.

Then I stood and looked down at her.

God never made a more beautiful woman than Lucia after she came.

Her eyes were half-lidded… her mouth was open as she gasped for air…

Her hair was wild, her cheeks rosy…

And her perfect ass and thighs were slick with wetness.

Her legs were trembling uncontrollably…

And I could see the beautiful little dark spot I’d been tonguing before, now twitching from her orgasm.

I wondered if she’d ever had an anal orgasm before.

That was one of my favorite things to do to a woman.

And since I couldn’t do it with my cock – NO woman wanted to take something that big –

I’d spent a lot of time perfecting the art using my tongue and fingers.

And I got the sweetest reward possible for it, besides seeing her in a state of bliss.

“…I… fucking… hate… you…” she said with a dreamy smile.

Her voice was filled with pleasure and softness and deep satisfaction.

But now…

Now it was my turn.

I was drooling from looking at her ass, shiny and wet and plump…

Her perfect pink pussy lips…

The sweet, musky smell of her sex on my fingers and filling the air…

I had to have her.

My dick was literally aching.

I HAVE TO HAVE HER.

I peeled off my boxers and dropped them to the floor. The cloth was soaked with my pre-cum. A strand of it dripped from my swollen head, silver in the moonlight.

“Alright,” I said. “Now you’re ready for my cock.”

Her eyes widened, and she looked up at me from the bed in shock. “Massimo – ”

I took my swollen head and pressed it against her wet lips.

She moaned at the feel of it –

Then gasped as my tip pushed past her entrance –

And I grunted as I slowly slid inside her.

43

Lucia

I gasped as I felt his tip press between my lips.

I could feel how hot he was, scorching hot, as he pushed against me –

And then my eyes bulged as he slid inside me for the first time.

God DAMN he was big.

Oh WOW –

The sensations were so fucking intense –

I don’t think he was two inches inside me when I started to come again.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmgod,” I cried out as he slowly eased inside me.

An entirely different type of orgasm shook my body.

This one seemed to come from his girth – from him completely filling me up.

Before, when he had two fingers inside me? And I thought that was a lot?

I hadn’t felt nothin’.

Every inch he slid inside me brought on more fireworks of pleasure – a throbbing pulse of powerful contractions.

“OhmygodohmygodohmyGOD,” I screamed as he kept going.

He grabbed onto my ass cheeks and was squeezing them again…

Then he placed his gigantic hands around my waist and pulled me further down his cock.

He kept going, deeper than anything I’d ever felt before…

And I kept coming harder and harder.

Finally there was a point when he couldn’t go any farther, and I felt the head of his cock bump up against something.

There was a tiny bit of discomfort…

But there was also a delicious feeling of ooooooOOOOOOH.

The waves of contractions slowly began to die down.

The crazy thing was, all he’d done was put his cock inside me.

I wasn’t sure what was going to happen when he actually started to thrust.

“Are you… are you all the way in?” I gasped.

He chuckled. “Not exactly.”

I looked back at him, stunned. “What?!”

“I can’t quite get it all the way in.”

My mouth dropped open in shock. “How big IS it?!”

“You kept asking me that before,” he smirked. “Let me show you.”

44

Massimo

She began coming almost the instant I was inside her.

And I LOVED it.

Her eyes rolled back in her head and her eyelids fluttered as her mouth opened wide…

And her fingers gripped the sheets in her clutched fists.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmgod,” she babbled as I slowly slid deeper.

She was tight – very tight.

I had to go slow because I didn’t want to hurt her.

…not yet.

But that might be unavoidable.

She was also wet… wetter than any woman I’d ever been with.

Her pussy felt like absolute heaven as it slowly slid over my cock.

I moved slowly, savoring the expression on her face as I went deeper and deeper…

And then I bottomed out.

The head of my cock was pushing up against her cervix, so I stopped.

Lucia groaned and tried to look back at me, though her eyes were fluttering between open and closed. “Are you… are you all the way in?”

I looked down.

I still had about three inches left to go.

“Not exactly.”

I’d expected it, though.

She wasn’t going to be able to take all of me. It would have been a damn miracle.

That’s okay. I was used to it… and I knew exactly what to do.

Lucia didn’t know that, though – and she looked back at me in shock. “What?!”

“I can’t quite get it all the way in.”

Her jaw dropped. “How big IS it?!”

I recalled her asking me that over and over and over again the last 24 hours.

I grinned. “You kept asking me that before. Let me show you.”

I pulled out about two inches, just to give myself a little extra room. I would plunge a bit deeper when I really started going at it, so best to have some leeway.

I used my left hand to make a fist around the base of my cock.

As long as I kept my hand in place, there wasn’t any way I could go too deep inside her and cause her pain.

And with my fist in place as a buffer, I began to slowly thrust.

45

Lucia

He pulled out a little bit –

And then I felt his hand against my ass like he was making a fist.

I was thinking, What the hell’s he doing?

And then I lost the ability to think at all.

Because he began to rock in and out of me…

Slow at first…

Then faster and faster.

“OH MY GOD,” I gasped.

I’d been grasping the sheets between my fingers before that.

Now I was clawing at them with my fingernails.

It felt SO GOOD –

But SO INTENSE.

Not pain, exactly –

Just A LOT.

“Holy FUCK,” I cried out.

I could feel his fist butting up against my pussy, like his hand was wrapped around the base of his cock –

And then I figured out what he’d done.

He was making sure not too much of him slid inside me all at once.

Which I greatly appreciated –

Because what was thrusting inside me was almost too much to handle.

I moaned and groaned and screamed as he slammed inside me, harder, faster –

And I could occasionally feel the blunt tip of his crown bump up against something deep inside me.

There was a tiny little unh of discomfort –

Followed by a blissful surge of pleasure.

Like the pain of slipping into a hot bath, followed by the wave of euphoria you get from the heat.

Except what was going on in my pussy was the kind of sensation that made me drool and forget my name.

“OH – MY – GOD – IT’S – SO – BIG – ” I cried out, my words interrupted by every thrust.

And then…

Something even crazier happened.

46

Massimo

I’ve told you I’m an ass man.

And I absolutely loved Lucia’s.

Her shape…

Her size…

How round and firm and plump she was…

And I couldn’t get enough of staring at that cute little pink hole right above her pussy.

I had to have it…

I had to be inside it…

And so I licked the pinky on my right hand…

And I veeeeeery slowly eased it inside her ass as I fucked her.

47

Lucia

“OH MY GOD – MASSSIMO – WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!” I cried out.

It felt so good –

But so crazy!

I was pretty sure he’d put a finger inside my ass.

It felt different than his tongue, which had been soft and hot and wet –

But this?

It was extra pressure that doubled the pleasure from his cock.

And I started coming again.

I wasn’t sure if it was vaginal, or clitoral, or anal –

Or if it was all of them at once, or something else entirely.

All I know is that my entire lower body felt like an explosion of orgasms.

“MASSIMO – MASSIMO – MASSIMO – ” I screamed, my eyes rolling back in my head –

And then I couldn’t form coherent words anymore, and it was just sort of a wordless scream.

And then I heard him shout in a deep, rumbling voice –

“OH FUCK, I’M COMING – ”

And then he burst inside me.

Just exploded inside my pussy.

I felt the spasms of his cock pressing against my walls.

I gasped for breath as I felt him filling me up – not just with his cock, but with his cum.

There was almost a light tapping sensation as every spurt splashed deep inside me.

My ass, my pussy, my entire body quivered uncontrollably…

And then he finally slowed down…

And stopped.

My legs were still twitching like there was an electrical storm going on in my nerves…

And muscles in my stomach I didn’t even know I had were still fluttering.

My ass was still up in the air with his cock deep inside me.

He stayed like that, leaning over me…

Breathing heavily, with little aftershocks of his orgasm still pulsing inside me…

And then he slowly withdrew.

I collapsed on my side, legs still shaking…

And he fell down next to me on the bed, his face next to mine.

We lay like that for almost 30 seconds, just panting and looking at each other…

And then I grinned.

“I still hate you,” I whispered.

“Good,” he growled…

And his strong hands pulled me up against his body.

His cock, still hard and huge and wet from my juices, pressed against my stomach…

And his mouth found mine…

And he kissed me.

After that colossal sundae of non-stop, full-body orgasms…

The kiss was like the sweetest imaginable cherry on top.

His lips were warm and soft…

His beard tickled my skin…

And I opened my mouth to let in his tongue.

We kissed for a long time…

Soft and slow and romantic…

And then he cuddled me to his chest…

And I drifted off to sleep…

More satisfied than I’d ever been in my entire life.

48

Massimo

Lucia’s eyes were closed, and her breathing was soft and slow. Her head lay nestled in the crook of my shoulder. She still wore her t-shirt; we hadn’t even taken it off. But I could feel the warmth of her bare stomach and legs against my skin.

She looked absolutely angelic.

I watched her and thought about what I’d just done.

On the one hand, it was a really bad move. Even worse, a stupid one.

I’d just had sex with the granddaughter of one of the most dangerous Cosa Nostra leaders in all of Italy.

Despite all I’d done for the Widow, I was pretty sure she wouldn’t take kindly to me fucking her granddaughter. Normally, I’d be a dead man.

On the other hand…

It had been the hottest sex of my life.

Nothing else even came close.

That whole part at the beginning where I was furious at her – where I just wanted to dominate her and punish her –

Hearing her scream I HATE you right before I fucked her brains out –

That had been astounding. A rush of adrenaline I’d never experienced with any other woman.

It also scratched an itch I’d had for the last 24 hours: finally putting the little brat in her place.

But after that was over…

Everything else had been less and less about the anger and more about enjoying her obvious pleasure.

I’d loved hearing her come.

I’d loved making her come.

Her screams…

Her calling out my name…

Even thinking about her cries made my cock swell up again.

I’d enjoyed every second I was inside her…

Both my cock and my tongue…

And every second that passed, I wanted to fuck her again.

But now that it was all over, I also felt this overwhelming tenderness towards her…

A deep-seated need to protect her. Something primal and fierce.

It went deeper than the desire to fuck her, or any sort of obligation I felt to her grandmother.

It was like she was mine now…

And I would do anything to keep her safe…

So that she could go on looking like an angel as she slept.

So… yes, it was a bad move to fuck her…

But I was happier than I could remember being for a very long time.

I checked the small table by the bed and made sure my Glock was within reach.

Then I continued to watch her peaceful, beautiful face as she slept…

Before I finally drifted off to sleep, too, cradling her against my body.

49

Lucia

I blearily opened my eyes as the shower came on in the bathroom.

First sensation: gentle light filtering through the window, casting shadows on the wall in front of me.

Second sensation: delicious warmth all around me, with the sheets and covers tucked around me in a snug little cocoon.

Third sensation:

Really sore pussy.

My eyes opened wide as I remembered everything from last night.

Everything he’d done to my ass –

Everything else he’d done –

And how hard I had come, over and over.

I giggled involuntarily, and my hand flew to my mouth to stifle it.

Holy SHIT, that was the best sex EVER.

All the women moaning and writhing in the movies and shows on Netflix?

Now I understood.

That’s what I’d been searching for the last three years, and I’d always been disappointed.

Last night, I’d finally found it.

WOW, had I found it.

I sat up in bed and realized I still had my t-shirt on.

I also realized I wasn’t just sore but also weak as hell.

My legs felt like I’d run a marathon. (Not that I had any idea what running a marathon actually felt like – I just assumed you’d be this weak the next morning.)

My stomach felt like I’d done a couple hundred sit-ups.

But it was a pleasant ache…

Because I remembered what had caused it.

Tons and tons of orgasms…

Given to me by the hottest guy I’d ever been with.

I bit my finger and stared off into space as I relived it…

Him caressing my g-spot…

His tongue in my ass as I fingered my clit…

Me squirting…

And his cock…

Oh God, his COCK.

Then I realized I hadn’t even gotten a good look at it.

No fair!

I’d sure as shit felt it, though.

Every last incredible inch of it…

SO long… SO thick… SO huge…

Mmmmmmmmm…

Jesus, I was already getting wet, and I wasn’t sure my poor little pussy could take another pounding like he’d given me last night.

Massimo…

I mouthed his name silently, feeling the shape of it on my lips…

Remembering how I’d screamed it last night as I’d come…

And then I remembered kissing him afterwards.

His lips were so gentle… so romantic…

The best sex of my life, and the best kiss, too.

Funnily enough, the kissing had been after the fucking.

I was getting wet remembering them both.

Damn, I need to stop thinking about it…

The water shut off in the bathroom.

I pulled the covers over my naked lap and felt silly for being so shy.

It wasn’t like he’d railed the shit out of me last night or anything. (Sarcasm.)

I waited expectantly for him to walk in…

Completely naked…

So I could finally get a peek at that enormous cock…

And watch it swinging back and forth, soft and huge…

But I didn’t get my peepshow.

He didn’t come back in the bedroom.

Instead, I heard the floorboards creak out in the kitchen.

Dammit…

I was gonna have to go sneak a peek on my own.

I pulled the covers off me and swung my legs over the side of the bed –

And was like, Holy SHIT.

My pussy felt hot and swollen…

And my legs felt wobbly as fuck.

I forced myself onto my feet and walked unsteadily to the bedroom door.

I thought of baby deer in nature documentaries and how they struggled to stand immediately after being born.

I totally sympathized.

As I walked, I felt something wet trickling down my leg –

OH MY GOD.

I’d forgotten – he’d come inside me.

No condom.

Also another first.

When sleeping with a bunch of rando’s you meet at a club, best to use a rubber.

Last night, I hadn’t even thought about it.

I’d never experienced a guy’s cum trickling down my leg…

And if it had been from anybody else in my catalog of one-night stands, I probably would have found it disgusting.

But now it just made me relive the sensations of Massimo’s huge cock exploding inside me –

How he sounded when he bellowed OH FUCK, I’M COMING –

The sensation of his cum spurting hot and thick inside me –

The way I’d orgasmed again when he did it –

And I got turned on even more.

But I wasn’t going into the kitchen to see him with a bunch of his cum leaking out of me…

So I gritted my teeth and headed into the bathroom.

* * *

After using the toilet, I brushed my teeth. There was a new toothbrush still in the box, lying on the counter next to a tube of toothpaste.

Massimo must have gotten them at the grocery store yesterday.

That was nice of him…

Once I brushed my teeth, I got into the shower with trepidation… and winced as I turned on the water.

Bad mistake – bad mistake! –

FUCK!

I yelped and made a face of utter and complete misery as ice-cold water sprayed my chest.

NO, BAD, UNH-UH, NOPE –

And then the cold water rushing down my body hit my pussy.

…ahhhhhhhh…

The soreness and feelings of uncomfortable heat went down several notches.

I backed off and just let the water hit my pussy and thighs.

I still felt miserable from the cold, but at least it had a silver lining.

I eventually used a bar of soap – still covered with bubbles from when Massimo had used it – and gave my downstairs a gentle but thorough washing.

Once I was sure everything was nice and clean, I scrubbed my pits and ass and washed everything off.

That was about all I could stand of the freezing cold, so I turned off the water, opened the shower curtain –

And found a dry, fluffy towel folded and waiting for me on the towel rack.

Awwww…

I hadn’t even thought of drying off before I got in – but he had. Even without knowing whether I was going to take a shower or not.

I held the towel to my face to cover my smile.

No other guy had ever been that thoughtful…

And no other guy made me feel like he had last night.

I’m gonna have to keep THIS one around for a while.

50

Rather than get dressed, I just put back on the t-shirt I’d been wearing. It was big enough that it hung down to my thighs and covered all the important parts.

Plus, I did not relish the idea of putting underwear on – and definitely not tight yoga pants.

Down there was still pretty sore. The longer I could let my lady parts chill out without anything on them, the better.

I tried combing out my hair, but it was a fuckin’ mess, so I just left it the way it was.

JBF hair – isn’t that what American girls call it?

‘Just been fucked’ hair.

Well, I’d definitely been fucked good and proper, that was for sure.

The one concession I made was to put on some socks to keep my feet warm – and then I padded out into the kitchen.

There was a small fire in the fireplace, and the smell of both smoke and coffee filled the air.

Massimo was standing over by the counter drinking a cup with his back to me.

I melted inside as soon as I saw him.

He was barefoot. He wore jeans and one of his tight, white t-shirts…

And his broad, muscular shoulders were mouth-watering as they tapered in a ‘V’ down to his relatively narrow waist.

And his ass was still perfect and firm and round under the seat of his jeans.

His ass!

I realized indignantly that I hadn’t gotten to see his ass last night, either.

Didn’t get to see the ass, didn’t get to see the cock –

We’re gonna have to rectify that situation, for SURE.

“Good morning,” I said as I walked past him.

His eyes widened –

And I decided to tease him, so I lifted up my t-shirt so he could see my bare ass.

He immediately sputtered his coffee back into his cup and coughed.

“Did you like that?” I said with a grin as I sat on a bar chair across the counter from him.

“I did,” he said, coughing a bit more.

“What’s for breakfast?”

He slid a banana and an apple across the counter towards me. “And there’s instant coffee if you want some.”

I narrowed my eyes. “How’s it taste?”

“Like instant coffee.”

“Eh… pass,” I said as I bit into the apple. Mmmm. “But some water would be great.”

He filled up a glass from the tap and slid it over.

I took a sip. Ice cold, but it tasted delicious.

“Mm. Much better in me than on me.” Having heard myself say that, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity for a double entendre. I gave his pants a lascivious glance and smirked. “Like some other things I can think of.”

He blushed the tiniest bit – so cute! –

And then said something I was not expecting, in a very serious voice.

“I shouldn’t have come inside you last night without making sure it was okay.”

Now it was my turn to choke on my drink.

I spluttered and coughed, then laughed. “Well, THAT’S a hell of a way to start a breakfast conversation.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, you just – you just went there, didn’t you?”

“You brought it up.”

“At least I was sly about it,” I laughed. “You just kind of whipped it out and stuck it in.”

He grinned. “Are we talking about just now, or last night?”

I giggled –

Jesus, did I just GIGGLE?!

– and said, “Both, actually. Although I definitely enjoyed you doing it last night. I didn’t… choke on anything,” I said, giving him another naughty look.

“Yeah, I’m afraid you would have choked.”

I decided to play with him a little.

I peeled the banana and said in a sultry voice, “Yeah, I kind of got that impression… even though I didn’t get to see it.”

And then I put the banana in my mouth…

Slowly sliding it between my lips…

And then slid it back out, letting the tip rest on my lower lip.

He stared at my mouth like he was hypnotized…

And he had to reach down to adjust himself under his jeans.

FUCK YES.

Just the thought of him shifting it in his pants was getting me very wet –

“Seriously, though,” he said in a somber voice, “are you… do we need to go back to town and find a pharmacy?”

That kind of killed the buzz.

“No, I’m fine,” I sighed. I reached over and grabbed my Birkin bag, which was sitting on the counter. I rummaged inside and pulled out my circular pill dispenser. “I’m on birth control. Probably a good thing you reminded me, though.”

Although it was a nice backup plan in case a condom ever broke, I took the Pill because I had really irregular periods otherwise.

I popped the next pill out of my dispenser and swallowed it with a gulp of water.

Massimo looked relieved.

Which kind of harshed my buzz even more, though I didn’t know why.

I guess it felt like all sexual tension had left the room…

And then he said something that made it flare right back up.

“I really loved coming inside you without a condom,” he said, his voice a deep, sexy rumble.

“Oh my GOD, dude!” I cried out, putting my palms flat on the counter like I had to prop myself up from falling over.

“What?!” he asked with a frown.

“I just – phew,” I said, fanning myself with my hand. “It’s a good thing I took that pill just now, cuz I think you just made me spontaneously ovulate.”

He chuckled and moved around the counter towards me.

As he came up next to me, my heart skipped a beat.

He was so tall that I had to lean my neck back all the way to look up at him.

He towered over me…

He put one of his arms around me…

And with the other hand, he brushed back a strand of hair from my forehead.

Now I was the one mesmerized as I stared up at him.

“Did you like it?” he growled.

My mouth was hanging open.

All I could do was just nod and murmur, “Uh-huh…”

“Did you like me coming inside you?”

Oh God, yes…

My voice pitched up about an octave as I squeaked, “Uh-huh…”

His hand around my waist reached up under my t-shirt, and I felt his warm hand slide up my back.

A shiver of pure pleasure went up and down my spine.

“You know…” he rumbled with that sexy-as-fuck voice, “I never got to see you completely naked.”

“I… I never got to see something else,” I whispered…

And I felt bold enough to reach out to the front of his jeans.

I mean, with me sitting down and him standing, it was almost right there in front of my face.

My hand immediately found what I was searching for –

A big, thick shape straining hard against the denim.

A tiny moan escaped my lips.

“You wanna go back to the bedroom and see it?” he asked with a sexy smile.

“Uh-huh…” I nodded, mouth open, unable to form any words.

He gently pulled me off the chair, and I winced.

“What?” he asked with a frown.

“I, uh… we’re just going to have to take it slow,” I said. “I’m pretty sore down there.”

His voice became super-concerned. “Oh – well, we don’t have to do anything – ”

“OH YES we do,” I said, putting a finger on his lips to stop him from talking. “I said we’re going to have to take it slow, not NOT do anything.”

He grinned –

And then he bent over slightly and scooped me up into his arms.

I shrieked giddily and looped my arms around his neck –

And he kissed me as he carried me back to the bedroom like a groom with his bride.

…not that I was a bride or he was a groom.

Although I was looking forward to the next couple of hours as much as any girl on her wedding night, that was for damn sure.

51

He set me down on my feet in the bedroom, and we continued kissing for a few minutes.

His huge hands reached down beneath my t-shirt…

Lifted the hem…

And grabbed my ass and began squeezing my cheeks.

And my hands reached down and began stroking his cock underneath his jeans.

He grunted and lifted the t-shirt up. I raised my arms over my head and let him remove it.

Then he stared at my chest… and his big fingers gently traced around my right nipple, making it even harder.

I groaned and tugged at his t-shirt.

I got it up far enough to see his rock-hard abs and got even wetter.

He took over and pulled his t-shirt over his head. I took the opportunity to run my fingers through his chest hair… to feel his enormous pecs… to touch the soft tips of his nipples, which were tiny but almost as hard as mine.

Then, as he went back to caressing my breasts, I hurriedly fumbled with his jeans.

I finally got them unbuttoned and unzipped, but his cock was so big that it took a little maneuvering to get it out.

All the while, he was stroking my breasts softly. It felt so good –

But I needed to see his cock.

I needed to touch it, to hold it, to feel it.

Finally, I pulled his jeans down far enough –

And it sprang out, wobbling in an upright position.

And I gasped.

Holy FUCK.

No WONDER I was sore…

His cock was enormous.

As long as my forearm and thick around as a baseball bat.

I was shocked he’d been able to get it inside me, to tell the truth…

Although I had just had the best orgasm of my life and squirted all over the place before he’d slipped it in. If I was going to take something that big, then that was the time to do it.

But besides the sheer size of it, I fucking loved the look of it.

Big and pink…

Veiny…

With a huge, swollen head…

I just stared at it like I couldn’t believe it.

Then I reached out my hand and touched it.

His skin was so soft…

But what was underneath it was so hard.

His cock jerked a little at my touch – a brief contraction that made it even bigger for a split second.

He grunted in pleasure…

And I slowly ran my fingers down the length of his shaft.

Jesus…

I reached his balls, which were huge and heavy. Everything about him was bigger than any other guy I’d been with before.

I rolled them softly in my palm, playing with them…

And then I leaned over and kissed the crown of his cock.

Scalding heat on my lips…

Soft skin…

And the clean smell of soap from his shower earlier.

He grunted as he felt my lips on him…

And his cock contracted again with a brief pulse…

And a tiny drop of dew beaded up from the slit in his crown.

I took his head in my mouth and tasted him…

Salty and pure.

I opened my mouth so I could take as much of him as possible –

But I couldn’t even get my lips all the way around his head.

But I wanted my mouth on his cock so bad…

So I shifted around and pushed him onto the bed.

Now, did I actually push him onto the bed?

No.

It would have been like trying to push over a concrete wall.

But he knew what I wanted, and he grinned and fell down on the mattress of his own accord.

The whole bed squeaked under his weight.

I struggled to pull his jeans off. He laughed and helped me, lifting his pelvis and pushing his pants further down his thighs as I pulled them off his feet.

Then he was lying on the bed completely naked… and I just held my breath and looked at him in awe.

It was like a bearded Greek god was lying there naked before me…

Complete with a god-like cock.

I scrambled up onto the bed beside him…

And then leaned over, facing his lap, and took his cock in both my hands…

And ran my tongue along his shaft, back and forth, wetting him down…

Until I got him wet enough that I could put my lips over him and glide my mouth back and forth over his shaft.

Think of corn on the cob… but instead of nibbling it, I got him wet with my tongue and lips.

‘Playing the harmonica,’ I guess you could call it.

With my right hand, I caressed his balls and tickled them…

And with my left hand, I lifted his shaft up so the pressure of my lips on his skin was even greater.

He groaned in ecstasy.

There was a little ridge of skin close to the crown… and I spent a lot of time licking it and moving my head back and forth rapidly, wetly sliding my lips over it.

And every time his cock pulsed, I would get my left palm wet with his pre-cum and circle his head.

He would gasp and curse – I guess it was pretty damn sensitive.

And he put out a lot of pre-cum, let me tell you.

When my left hand was sopping wet, I rubbed my hands together so I got both of them slippery…

Then I straddled his chest with my ass in his face.

Which was something of a feat, let me tell you. He had a wide chest, and I almost felt like I was doing a split.

But arranged like that, I began to rub my slippery hands up and down his cock…

And it was so fucking hot.

I tried to fit the head of his cock in my mouth again, but it was hurting my jaw to keep it open that far, so I contented myself with licking his crown.

He didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, he found something to occupy himself…

And it was so good, it almost rendered me incapable of doing anything for him.

52

Massimo

Holy shit…

Lucia was incredible.

It wasn’t her technique so much, although what she was doing felt good –

It was her complete and total lust.

Just unbridled desire.

There was no term for it other than ‘cock worship’…

And she was amazing at it.

I groaned as she ran her hands over my rock-hard shaft –

And sucked greedily at my head.

She’d just swung her leg over my chest a minute before…

And after I’d enjoyed what she was doing for a while…

I opened my eyes.

Her ass, as always, was fucking amazing…

But her pussy was right there, just a couple of inches from my face.

I could see how turned on she was because her lips were literally dripping with her juices.

A beaded strand of clear liquid hung suspended from her pussy, until gravity finally won and it slowly descended to my chest.

The smell of her sex was sweet and slightly musky… like cantaloupe juice with the tiniest hint of smoke…

And I arched up my neck and lightly ran my tongue across her lips.

Mmmm…

She tasted as good as she smelled.

I plunged my tongue between her lips, feeling the heat deep inside her on the tip of my tongue.

“Oh!” she cried out, and I felt her hands pause on my cock.

I didn’t care about her attending to me – we’d get to that sooner or later.

What I wanted was to hear her moan and feel her squirm.

I reached behind me and doubled a pillow up under my neck so I didn’t have to work to keep my head upright…

And then I went to town.

I found her clit, swollen and tiny, and began lapping it with my tongue.

At the same time, I reached up around her legs, grabbed her ass cheeks, and began squeezing them in my hands.

Occasionally, I would reach up underneath her and fondle one of her breasts, maybe caress her hard nipple…

But I always returned to her gorgeous ass and went back to squeezing it.

Lucia’s hands stopped moving – but I felt her long tresses brush over my cock, like she was so overcome that she had to lower her head.

Best of all, I heard her groan.

“Ohhhhhhhh… oh, fuck…”

Every so often I would plunge my tongue back inside her, but mostly I concentrated on lapping that sweet little clit.

She began rocking her hips back and forth, grinding her pussy against my tongue and mouth.

I took that as a sign she wanted more pressure, and I complied.

“Oh fuck… oh fuck… oh fuck…” she whispered breathily.

By now she’d completely stopped doing anything with my cock.

I didn’t care.

All I wanted was to hear her come.

I kept a steady pace – my tongue pressing a bit firmer as I went –

And she began making high-pitched squeaks as she rocked her pussy back and forth.

“Unh – unh – unh – UNH – UNH – ”

And then she shrieked as she really grinded her pussy into my tongue.

“Oh fuuuuuuuuuuck!” she screamed as she gripped my legs with her hands and raked my skin with her nails.

She stopped moving her hips against my face, and her body lay still against mine. I could feel her chest heaving as she breathed hard.

I slowed down my licks to a gentle, slow lapping.

And then she suddenly sprang up from my body, flipped her leg around, then turned and straddled my waist so she was facing me.

Her cheeks were flushed pink, and the expression on her face…

Madonn.

It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen before.

Her lower lip was full and pouty as her mouth hung open…

Her eyes were half-lidded like she was sleepy…

And her brows were knitted, like she was partially in pain… or wanted something so bad that it was hurting her.

“I need your cock inside me,” she whispered, her voice urgent.

“You said you were sore,” I reminded her.

“I don’t give a fuck,” she said, her voice guttural and thick with desire. “I need it inside me.”

God DAMN.

I got even harder than I had been a second before.

“Okay – ” I started.

“I’ll do it,” she whispered.

She braced her right hand against my chest.

Her left hand reached down between her legs –

Grabbed my cock…

And lined everything up.

“Can you hold me up?” she whispered.

I pushed my hands against her upper body so she didn’t have to work as hard.

She placed my tip right at her lips.

I could feel her wetness and her heat.

We stared deep into each other’s eyes…

Her eyelids half-closed like she was almost asleep… her face in a frown of frustrated desire…

And then she slowly eased herself down on my cock.

Her mouth got bigger –

And her frown intensified as she groaned.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh…”

I could feel her slick, wet heat all around my crown.

She was even tighter than last night. I was worried she might be a bit swollen.

There was a second where I didn’t think she was going to be able to do it –

And then she got me in far enough that my head was all the way inside her.

“OHHHHH,” she groaned in a high-pitched voice, and her eyes rolled back into her head.

“FUCK, Lucia,” I grunted. “Fuck, you feel so good…”

She moved her left hand away from my cock, then braced it against my chest along with her right.

Then she began rocking back and forth… just a centimeter at a time… in and out… as she struggled to take more of me inside her.

I was already wet from her licking me, so that helped.

Little by little, she got more and more of me inside her.

Although it was torture – I wanted to plunge all the way inside her, to have her wet pussy totally enveloping me – it was the sweetest torture imaginable: having to wait as her hot, wet pussy took just another centimeter of me in.

“Baby, we don’t have to do this – ” I tried to tell her.

“Oh yes we DO,” she grunted, and I grinned to hear the insistence in her voice.

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“A little… but it hurts so GOOD,” she moaned.

“Come down here,” I growled as I hooked my hand behind her neck and pulled her mouth down to mine.

I kissed her hard. Her lips were hot and swollen with desire, and our tongues brushed feverishly against each other as she continued to rock her hips back and forth, taking me in bit by bit.

She broke off our kiss, reached down between her legs, and began feverishly rubbing her clit. “Oh fuck – oh fuck – Oh Fuck – OH FUCK – ”

I reached around, grabbed her ass, and squeezed hard as her upper body arched up and she came.

“OH FUCK – MASSIMO – OH FUCK, IT’S SO GOOD – ”

She screamed and collapsed on my chest, her breasts heaving as she panted hard.

I softly ran my fingers over her back… caressing her… letting her catch her breath…

And then I began to slowly rock my own hips up into her.

Just the slightest bit, no more than what she had done…

In and out… in and out…

But she was wetter this time from coming, and it was easier to move deeper inside her.

Lucia began moaning again.

She raked her fingernails across the skin of my shoulders…

And she bit me – which surprised me – but it wasn’t hard enough to hurt –

And then she started rocking her hips along with mine, pushing herself further down on my cock.

I reached down and grabbed her ass so I could feel it move under my hands.

“Oh fuck… oh fuck… oh God, I’m coming again,” she groaned. “Oh FUCK, it’s so BIG – oh my GOD – OHHHHHHHHH – ”

And she kept her head buried in my chest and scratched her nails over my skin as she came again.

Her cries of passion were the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard –

And the hottest.

Every time she screamed, it made me need to get deeper inside her –

To finally have my cock buried all the way in her sweet little pussy.

We kept going like that, her slowly taking me in, both our hips rocking to get me in deeper, and then her coming every couple of minutes.

By the time I bottomed out and the head of my cock couldn’t go any further, her entire body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

She finally looked up from my chest, and she seemed like she was drunk. Her features were slack, her eyes were having trouble focusing, and her mouth hung open.

“Oh fuck, baby… oh fuck…” she whispered. “You’re so deep…”

I grinned and kissed her softly. “We can stop if you want.”

“No, I want you to come… I want you to come inside me…”

“Can you even move back and forth anymore?”

She laughed, my second favorite sound in the world. “…no… I think you’re gonna have to be on top…”

“Okay.”

I put my arms around her, then gently rolled over on the mattress so that I was on top of her – keeping my cock inside her the entire time.

When I did it, her eyes opened wide and she gasped.

“You okay?”

She nodded. “That was just… intense… and you’re kind of heavy…”

I braced myself fully on my forearms, lifting as much weight off her as I could.

“That’s… oh, that’s better…” she sighed. Then she arched up her face and kissed me.

When she plopped her head back down on the bed, she grinned. “I want to see your face when you come… but go slow, okay?”

I nodded. “Very slow.”

And I began to rock my hips back and forth as I moved inside her.

Her mouth opened in a gasp, and she wrapped her arms around me and clutched my ass.

“Oh my god, your ass… oh fuck, it feels even better than I imagined it…”

I laughed. “You’ve been fantasizing about my ass?”

She laughed, too – then bit her lip in embarrassment and nodded. “Yeah…”

“How long?”

She looked up at me shyly. “Ever since I saw it…”

“Fuck…”

“You like my ass, too, don’t you?” she whispered with a grin.

I nodded. I couldn’t speak at the moment – her pussy was too good – too wet and too tight for me to form a coherent thought –

“Did you like fucking my ass with your tongue?” she whispered, a look of innocence and lust mixed on her face.

I grunted. “Fuck yes. Did you?”

She nodded rapidly. “I think… I think you gave me an anal orgasm…”

“Oh FUCK,” I groaned. Just hearing her say those words as I moved in and out of her…

Her eyes rolled back in her head when I made the sound, and she clutched my ass and raked her fingernails up my back. “Oh Massimo… oh fuck, baby, you’re so good…”

“You’re better… you’re a goddess…” I growled as I kissed her neck.

“No – no – I want to see you,” she whispered as she put her hands on my face and forced me about six inches away from her. Her eyes were open, but she had to make a real effort to keep them open. “I want to see you come… I want to see your eyes when you come…”

“You keep talking like that, it’s gonna happen any second,” I warned her.

She nodded and bit her lip. “Come for me. Come inside me. Please. I wanna feel you come inside me.”

I groaned, and my face contorted in something between pain and ecstasy. “Lucia – stop – you’re gonna make me come – ”

“Please, baby, please come for me,” she moaned. “Come inside me – I wanna feel that huge cock explode inside me and fill me with cum – ”

“LUCIA!” I shouted, and I couldn’t contain myself – I thrust in her faster, just once, but deep –

And she cried out, her eyes wide.

I was afraid I’d hurt her, but as she clutched my face, I realized she was coming again –

And that was when I came.

“LUCIA!” I bellowed as I stared into her eyes.

“MASSIMO!” she screamed as she stared into mine –

And she struggled to keep her eyes open as contractions wracked her body, and my cock spurted over and over deep inside her.

“OH FUCK… OH FUCK…” I groaned…

“Oh baby… oh baby… oh baby…” she cried out in high, breathy little moans…

And then I slowly stopped moving…

And she caressed my face with her hands…

And we kissed, deep and long.

53

Lucia

We cuddled afterwards – something I’d never done with any other guys.

But it felt natural with Massimo…

And something I craved. Just being close to him. The scent of him… his warmth…

He was lying on his back; I nestled against his side with my head on his shoulder, which was quickly becoming my favorite place in the world.

And I was playing with his cock. It was soft, but still huge and thick and heavy. Even completely flaccid, he was bigger than all the other guys I’d been with when they were hard.

I lolled it around in my palm, feeling its size and heat.

“You like playing with it?” he asked in amusement.

“I LOVE playing with it. It’s my favorite toy ever.”

“Mmmm… good…” he said drowsily.

I grabbed his cock firmly. “MINE.”

He just chuckled.

I was quiet for a moment.

I don’t know why I was feeling so vulnerable, but I was. Maybe it was the fact that I was lying next to a Greek god with a huge cock who was the best lay I’d ever had. And the most handsome… and the strongest…

“…Massimo?” I asked hesitantly.

“Mm-hm?”

“…do you like my body okay?”

He looked down at me in surprise, suddenly wide awake. “Of course – you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever been with.”

My entire body flushed with pleasure. I mean, I knew men liked me. But to hear from the hottest guy I’d ever been with that I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever been with…

“I am?”

“By far.”

I glanced down, unable to look him in the eyes as I said the next thing.

“…is my chin okay?”

“…what?” He sounded genuinely confused as he said it.

“My chin,” I said, sticking it out. “Is it okay?”

“It’s fine – why wouldn’t it be?”

“It has that little line on it.”

“So?”

“So there’s a comedian on TikTok who calls it a ‘butt chin.’”

Massimo laughed. “A butt chin?”

“It’s not funny!” I said as I smacked his arm lightly.

“It’s kind of funny,” he said with a grin.

“No it’s not,” I said petulantly.

“Men have that all the time.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t look good on women.”

“I think it looks adorable on you.”

I didn’t want to look adorable. It made me sound like a puppy dog. But on the other hand, he’d already said I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever been with.

I should have just chalked up an ‘adorable chin’ as a win…

But I couldn’t let it go.

“The guy on TikTok said he dated a girl with a butt chin and everybody made fun of her.”

“What did they say?”

“They called her the ‘Texas Chinsaw Massacre.’”

He didn’t get it at first – English to Italian translation issues – so I had to explain that the movie’s title in English was The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Once he got it, Massimo roared with laughter.

“It’s not funny!” I said, but this time I was smiling.

“That’s what he called her? ‘The Texas Chinsaw Massacre’?”

“Well, no – that’s what his friends called her. He called her his little ‘Chinderella.’”

Massimo nearly bust a gut at that one.

“It’s not funny!” I protested, but now I was laughing, too.

“So, should I call you my little Chinderella?” he asked, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

I grabbed his cock hard. “You call me that, and I will cut this off in your sleep,” I snarled.

“Okay, okay!” he grinned as he held his hands up in surrender. “I will definitely never call you – ”

I gave him a warning look and squeezed his dick.

“ – THAT,” he said, stifling a laugh.

“…okay,” I relented, and let go of his cock.

He paused.

“…but what about the Texas Chinsaw Massacre?”

He howled with laughter and rolled away so I couldn’t grab his dick again, so I just beat on his back with my fists.

“NOT FUNNY!” I yelled and laughed at the same time.

Then he rolled over too quickly for me to react and pinned my body and arms to the mattress.

I struggled against him, but it was utterly pointless.

…and it was kind of hot.

With his face just a few inches away from mine, he stared into my eyes and said, “I think you are absolutely beautiful… and everything about you is perfection.”

I went “Hmph,” but inside I swelled with happiness… which I’m sure he knew, because I could barely hide my smile.

“But I don’t have big boobs,” I said, wanting to see what he would say.

“They’re exquisite just the way they are. I don’t know if you’ve figured it out yet,” he said wryly, “but I’m an ass man.”

“NOOOO,” I said in over-the-top fake surprise. “You’re JOKING.”

He laughed again. “Well, it’s true… and you’ve got the hottest ass I’ve ever seen.”

I smiled so big it hurt my face. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

By now he’d stopped pinning my arms, and I circled them around his neck and whispered, “Did you want it when you first saw it?”

“No.”

I frowned. “No?!”

“Mostly I wanted to kill you.”

I burst out laughing as I remembered everything that had happened at my university. “Yeah, well, I wanted to kill you, too.”

“I was trying to save you.”

“Yeah,” I said indignantly, “and then you flipped me over your shoulder and showed my ass to the entire fucking world.”

A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “You were being a brat.”

“Hey!”

“You were.”

“You were being a dick!”

He just shrugged and smirked.

“And then you SPANKED me – ”

“I did enjoy that,” he admitted with a dreamy smile.

“Fucker!” I giggled as I poked him in the ribs.

“Hey,” he warned playfully, then started tickling me.

“NO FAIR – NO FAIR!” I screamed with laughter as I tried to tickle him back – but I didn’t have the same effect on him as he did on me. “STOP, STOP!”

He quit tickling me long enough to say, “Truce?”

“…truce.”

He lay on his back again and pulled me against his side. I smiled in contentment as my head lay on his shoulder.

“Was there something we did that was your favorite?” I asked. “In bed, I mean?”

“I want to fuck your ass with my tongue again.”

I giggled, then stopped myself.

I could not believe how much I was giggling lately.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” I asked in a sultry voice. “Doing that to my ass with your tongue.”

“Mm-hm. Did you like it?”

I thought for a second before I answered. “If you’d asked me beforehand if I thought I would like it, I would have said, ‘No fucking way, don’t even fucking try it’… but I ended up loving it.”

He looked down at me. His brown eyes were smoldering. “Did you come from it?”

I bit my lower lip and nodded. “I think so. Whatever it was, it felt amazing.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, and leaned over and kissed me.

After we stopped kissing, I asked, “What else did you like?”

I could see he was hesitating.

“What?” I demanded.

“…I liked the whole ‘I hate you’ thing.”

I grinned.

“You liked that, huh?” I asked in a husky voice.

He nodded shyly.

“It was fucking hot, wasn’t it?” I whispered.

He nodded again.

I propped myself up on my arms so I was looking down at him and said in my sexiest voice, “Well, I… fucking… hate you.”

Except the tone I used was I want you to fuck me ALL NIGHT LONG.

He growled deep in his throat – a feral animal sound that turned me on so much –

And then he sighed, and his head collapsed back on the pillow. “We should save it for later. We need to pack up and go.”

“Awwww,” I pouted. “Do we have to leave?”

“We should.”

“Please can we stay here another night?”

He frowned quizzically. “Why? I thought you said it was a shithole.”

“Eh… it’s more like a run-down dump.”

He laughed out loud. “Now that’s a ringing endorsement.”

“But it’s also fun. Cooking over the fire was like we were in a movie. Aaaaand… we could fuck some more,” I said playfully, like I was trying to entice him.

“Mmmm,” he murmured, obviously into the idea. “But we can do that in a new place, too.”

“Yeah… but we’re already here,” I whispered as I took his cock in my hand and softly stroked it. “And all that time we’d spend walking around the woods, we could spend fucking instead.”

“Aren’t you sore?”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to put to put it in me. You could just lick my clit… and do things to my ass I know you want to do… and I could lick you… and you could come in my mouth…”

As I spoke, his cock began to thicken and lengthen in my hand.

“Oooooh, somebody likes that plan,” I teased.

“Babe,” he growled, “you keep talking like that, I’m gonna have to fuck you again.”

“You keep saying things like that,” I whispered, “and you better fuck me again.”

He turned over on his side, flipping me onto my back, and kissed me.

I squealed with delight, but the sound was muffled by his mouth on mine.

His right hand slipped under my ass and squeezed it…

And I reached for his cock again and felt it getting harder and thicker.

I made a fist around it and broke off our kiss long enough to say, “MINE.”

He grinned and spoke in that deep, rumbling voice of his.

“Yours.”

I don’t know why that turned me on so much…

But my nipples immediately got hard.

“…yeah?” I whispered, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

“Yeah,” he growled, and he started kissing my neck.

I felt him get rock-hard in my hand, heartbeat by heartbeat.

“Oh… Massimo…” I whispered, my eyes closed in ecstasy.

* * *

We ended up deciding to stay in the cabin.

54

Massimo

After a couple more hours of incredible sex – and having to be more inventive to work around how sore Lucia was – we got dressed just enough to be civilized and had lunch.

Only problem was, there wasn’t any firewood left over to start a fire and warm it up.

We ate our food cold right out of the can, but I told her I would go chop some more wood for the evening.

“Enough to fuck in front of the fireplace?” she asked playfully.

“I better chop a lot of wood, then,” I said as I kissed her.

“You better,” she said with a grin, then pushed me away. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

“I thought you hated the cold water.”

“I do,” she said in a low, husky voice, “but I’ve got to get all your cum off me.”

“Mmmm,” I growled as I kissed her again.

She laughed and pushed me away again. “Go chop wood.”

“…alright,” I muttered.

As she walked towards the bathroom, she playfully glanced over her shoulder with a big grin – and lifted the hem of her t-shirt so I could see her delicious ass.

“Hey!” I barked, like You better not get me going again!

She just laughed and went into the bathroom.

I grinned and put on my boots.

Then I grabbed my Glock, the ax, the hatchet, and the canvas wood carrier and headed outside.

Despite it being around one in the afternoon, there was still a lingering chill in the air – but I knew that swinging an ax would quickly warm me up. No need for a flannel shirt.

I heard the sound of the shower starting in the house – followed by Lucia shouting, “Mother FUCKER – ”

And I laughed.

Poor girl…

I was glad I hadn’t told her a new place might have hot water, or she might have taken me up on it.

I hummed contentedly as I found a suitable piece of wood and started chopping.

As I swung the ax, the Glock uncomfortably rubbed my lower back where I had it in my jeans. So I took the pistol from my waistband and put it on a nearby log.

Then I swung the ax again.

THOCK.

THOCK.

THOCK –

The first piece of wood split in two.

I set up half of it on a nearby stump.

THOCK.

THOCK.

THOCK –

The wood block split into two again.

I threw one half onto the ground so I could chop the remaining piece into eighths.

I stepped to the side –

Just as a distant crack echoed through the forest –

And the piece of wood blasted off the top of the stump and flew to the ground.

I stared at where the log had just been –

And I realized in horror what had just happened.

Someone had shot at me.

From the distance of the rifle report, probably hundreds of feet away.

Sniper.

By sheer luck, I’d moved just in time.

I started towards the log where my gun was sitting, 15 feet away –

But the sniper got there first.

Crack!

The surface of the wood next to the Glock exploded in a burst of splinters.

SHIT –

I dove to the ground and took cover behind several huge cross-sections of the tree. They formed a protective barrier between me and the shooter.

My heart thudded in my chest and my mind raced at a million miles a second.

You fucking idiot – you should have left hours ago!

Now you’ve endangered Lucia –

NO, I shouted inwardly. STOP. Slow down.

It was no use beating myself up.

I had to get out of this situation – and to do that, I had to think.

What did I know about what had just happened?

The first shot had been low. If the sniper had wanted to kill me, he would have aimed for the center of my torso.

Either the sniper was a bad shot – or he’d been trying to wound me, not kill me.

That had to be it. A leg shot would incapacitate but probably not kill me. And it would make sure I couldn’t run.

So he didn’t want me dead –

He wanted to take me alive.

However, the second gunshot had happened so quickly after the first that it was hard to believe it was the same gunman.

Probably because it wasn’t.

There were single-bolt sniper rifles, where you had to eject the spent shell casing and load a new round by pushing a lever –

And there were semi-automatic sniper rifles, where the gun did the loading for you every time you pulled the trigger.

Semi-automatics were great for speed but usually encouraged the shooter to rush. And when a sniper rushed, he missed. Load faster, shoot faster, don’t take your time, miss the target.

In order for him to fire the first shot, then adjust the gun to take the second shot, and be that accurate, all within three seconds – he either had god-like abilities or the luck of the devil.

So there were at least two guys. In fact, there were probably multiple teams combing the woods. This was just the one that had stumbled across me.

Shit…

They’d probably radioed the other teams, which meant more were coming.

I had to get to Lucia and get the fuck out of here.

I needed my pistol. If I could fire at them as I ran, I might get to the house in one piece.

I angled my ax above me, trying to use the metal ax head to scrape my gun off the stump –

CRACK!

There was a metallic krck! and a shower of sparks –

And my Glock landed on the ground in front of me.

Unfortunately, the trigger guard and trigger were fucked all to hell – a twisted mass of metal. The sniper had placed his shot in order to ruin the gun.

FUCK he was good.

Not only that, but the shot had been louder – which meant the gunman was closer.

They were coming towards me.

I had to get to the house now.

I started crawling on my belly across the ground –

But when I peeked out from behind the log closest to the house, there was another CRACK –

And dirt exploded in a shower a few feet away.

SHIT.

That had been a warning shot.

Try it again and we’ll kill you.

They knew I would try to get to Lucia – so one of those sniper rifles was undoubtedly aimed at the back door of the house.

In the second it took me to open the door, they would have me dead to rights.

I couldn’t go for the house without risking getting shot.

I was pinned down here behind the giant cross-sections of oak tree.

My only option was to crawl backwards, keeping the logs between me and the shooters.

The barn was about ten feet directly behind me.

If I could just get inside…

Ax in hand, I crawled on my belly towards the barn.

I reached the outside wall. The wooden planks were dry-rotted and crumbling near the ground, and I was able to use the ax to bash a big enough hole for me to crawl through.

Unfortunately, the noise let them know exactly where I was.

Once inside the barn, I crawled behind an empty feed bin before I stood up.

They would come for me. That much was certain. But would they split up? One go for Lucia while the other came for me?

Would they both go for Lucia and take her hostage?

Or would they both come after me to get rid of the biggest threat first?

I had no idea. All I knew was that I had to be ready for them.

I glanced at the front of the barn.

The door had long ago rotted and fallen off its hinges, so the doorway was open – about 12 feet wide and 10 feet tall.

I couldn’t just stand next to the doorway and wait for them, though. That would be the first thing they checked.

I could hide in the loft at the rear of the barn – but then I would have to wait for them to come find me. Bad idea.

…what if I could hide up in the rafters?

There were half a dozen wooden columns sunk into the concrete floor. They reached up into the rafters and held up the entire barn.

Joists – big wooden beams running parallel to the ground – connected all the columns about ten feet up.

I held my ax high overhead and swung it into the wooden column nearest the doorway. The blade sunk into the wood with a solid thock and stayed there.

Then I climbed onto one of the feed bins, jumped, and grabbed onto a joist with my hands.

I prayed it would support my weight as I pulled myself up on top of it.

It held.

Then I crept like a tightrope walker across the joist – praying some more as the wood groaned beneath me – until I reached the wooden column closest to the door.

I wiggled the ax head out of the wood, held it up like a baseball bat –

And waited.

I listened carefully.

The shower wasn’t running in the house anymore.

Had Lucia heard the gunshots? She must have.

I hoped she would run out the front door of the house and hide somewhere in the forest.

I watched the doorway of the barn like a hawk as cold sweat beaded on my forehead and dripped down my face.

A minute passed.

All I could hear was the rustle of the wind in the trees.

And then…

Amidst the dappled sunshine coming in through the doorway…

A shadow blocked out the light.

Someone was standing in front of the barn.

I gripped the ax handle tighter as the barrel of a pistol appeared in the doorway.

A pistol made sense. A rifle was good for long distances, but a pistol was better up close. Easier to aim and fire quickly.

A few seconds later, the gunman crept through the doorway.

He wore a tan hunting jacket. A black rifle hung on a strap across his back.

He swept the pistol back and forth, looking for me in the barn’s shadows.

Unfortunately for him, he didn’t look up.

I stepped off the joist and plummeted down.

He heard the creak of the wood and looked up, but didn’t raise the gun in time –

THOCK!

The ax split his skull right down the center like a ripe watermelon.

He didn’t even have time to scream.

A split second later, my feet hit the concrete floor. Electric bolts of pain shot through my legs as I bent my knees and tried to absorb the impact.

Didn’t help much. I still came crashing down on my hands and knees, agony flaring throughout my body.

At least I was in better shape than the guy with an ax buried in his head.

He crumpled to the floor at the same time as me, his arm flung out, the pistol still in his hand as blood gushed out of his head.

I scrambled over and tried to pull the pistol out of his hand, but the trigger guard caught on his finger –

“STOP!” a man’s voice yelled.

I dove backwards into the shadows, weaponless, and rolled behind the feed bin.

Footsteps clomped on the concrete…

And a shadow appeared in the sunlight on the floor next to the feed bin.

“Fuckin’ hell…” the man muttered, probably as he saw what I’d done to his buddy.

Then he shouted, “Come out!”

I stayed where I was.

“Come out, you piece of shit, or I’ll shoot your balls off when I find you!”

I didn’t move.

“Or maybe I’ll fuck the girl in front of you and make you watch,” he leered.

My blood boiled – but I knew he was baiting me.

I stayed motionless.

I heard two slow footsteps on the concrete…

Then a burst of fast ones as he rushed me.

I tried to scramble around the corner of the feed bin –

“AH!” he yelled in warning.

Shit.

I looked up to see a man in camouflage standing ten feet away, his pistol pointed at my face.

“If they weren’t paying triple for you alive, you’d be a fuckin’ dead man right now,” he snarled. “Get up.”

I slowly got to my feet.

My mind raced, trying to figure out how I could get to him before he killed me –

But I couldn’t think of a single scenario where I didn’t wind up dead.

“Hands in the air,” he ordered.

I raised them above my head.

The camouflaged man pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his jacket while he kept his gun on me. “You’re going to put these on, and you’re going to do it without any funny business, or I’m going to shoot you in the gut and make you crawl back to town. Got it?”

I nodded, defeated. “…yes.”

He was just about to toss the cuffs to me underhanded –

When a sound unlike anything I’d ever heard ripped through the air.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

It was a high-pitched scream of fury straight out of hell.

Lucia came striding through the doorway, a gun pointed at the man’s head –

The shotgun I’d taught her how to use.

Her eyes looked utterly demented, and her face was a mask of pure hatred.

The camouflaged man looked over in panic. He swung his gun towards her –

Too late.

55

BLAM!

The shotgun went off in a blast of yellow light.

Lucia jerked backwards, the force of the recoil slamming through her body –

And the camouflaged man’s head turned into a bloody mask of raw meat.

At 20 feet away, Lucia was far enough that the shotgun blast didn’t take off the man’s head –

But what it did do was horrific.

I watched as his body keeled over with a thud –

And then I looked at Lucia.

She had recovered from the recoil and was standing absolutely still. She held the shotgun pointing down, the smoking barrel touching the ground…

And she was staring at the man she had just killed.

If her scream before had been frightening, what I saw in her eyes was terrifying.

She…

She just wasn’t there.

The woman I knew wasn’t behind those eyes.

They were just… empty. Blank.

“Lucia,” I said as I rushed around the edge of the feed bin.

She didn’t look at me. She just stared at the man on the ground with unblinking eyes.

My heart swelled with gratitude and grief as I gently grabbed her shoulders.

Gratitude that she had saved me –

And grief for what she’d had to do.

“Baby, thank you,” I whispered as I pulled her to my chest and hugged her. “You saved my life.”

She didn’t make a sound…

But the shotgun slipped from her limp hand and clattered on the concrete.

Clack!

I pulled away from her, cupped her face in my hands, and made her look at me.

She just stared right through me.

I was worried, but I thought I knew what she was feeling.

The first time you kill a person is traumatizing – even if it’s to save someone you love.

“Baby, it wasn’t your fault,” I whispered. “You had to do it – you saved me.”

Suddenly, there was a gurgle behind me.

I let go of Lucia and turned around on high alert.

The man in camouflage was still alive.

He hadn’t moved from where he’d fallen…

But he wasn’t dead.

I grabbed the shotgun off the floor and angled the butt downwards, ready to bash in what remained of his skull –

But when I got to him, I could see it was pointless.

His ruined throat gave one final death rattle before he finally went silent.

I kicked the gun out of his limp hand and turned back to Lucia –

But now she was sitting on the ground.

Her black-clad knees were bent, and her arms were wrapped around her legs as she hugged them to her chest.

Not only were her eyes staring straight ahead in vacant horror –

But she was rocking back and forth a little, like an inmate in an insane asylum.

Shit –

This was bad. This was really bad.

I crouched down next to her.

“Baby – you didn’t have any other choice. He would have killed me. You did the right thing.”

She didn’t look at me, and she didn’t make a sound.

“Lucia… we have to go… others are coming right now… Lucia, please, you’re scaring me…”

No response.

FUCK.

This wasn’t just someone traumatized by killing another human being –

This was something else.

She was catatonic – probably in shock – and I didn’t know what to do.

What I did know was that I had to get her out of there.

So I gathered her up in my arms and carried her like a child towards the house.

I stepped over the other dead man – the one I’d killed with the ax – and moved as quickly and carefully as I could.

I could feel her wet hair, still damp from the shower, pressing against my neck as I carried her.

Please God, I prayed silently, please don’t take out my failure on her – PLEASE –

Once inside the house, I set Lucia down on the floor.

She didn’t react; she didn’t make a sound. She just kept rocking back and forth.

I had to move quickly. There was no telling when the other teams would get there.

I threw a couple dozen cans of food into my backpack, then wrapped the bottle of brandy in a hand towel and shoved it in. I figured I could use the alcohol to bring her around when we got to safety.

I found my lighter and can opener and stuffed them in with the food.

I saw my phone and was about to grab it –

Then I thought, What if that was how they found us? What if they tracked it somehow?

So I left it behind.

I ran to the bedroom and grabbed a few of Lucia’s clothes – especially her jacket – and a few of mine.

I looked for the Sig Sauer pistol I’d given her but couldn’t find it –

So I just grabbed my hunting rifle from the corner and ran back to the kitchen.

Lucia hadn’t moved.

I stuffed the clothes in the top of the backpack, slung the rifle over my arm, and put the backpack on over it.

I thought about bringing the five-gallon water canisters but decided against it. I had to move fast, and carrying extra dead weight didn’t make sense. Plus, this house had running water; I could keep going until I found another cabin that had it, too.

I did, however, grab our canteens, fill them at the kitchen sink, and sling them around my neck on their straps.

Finally, I bent down and picked Lucia up.

I was terrified for her.

I went out the back door and carried her far enough away that she wouldn’t see what I was about to do.

I set her down in the pine needles, then went back inside the barn.

I grabbed the first dead man’s pistol, a Beretta M9.

I searched his hunting jacket, found a couple of magazines full of bullets, and shoved them in my backpack.

Then I went to the other dead man and tried to ignore the bloody ruin that had once been his face.

His Glock was ten feet away where I’d kicked it. I grabbed it, searched him, and added a few more magazines to my backpack.

I thought about taking my shotgun, too…

But I was afraid that the sight of it might traumatize Lucia further once she finally came around.

Plus, I’d forgotten the shotgun shells inside, and I didn’t want to waste more time retrieving them. The two dead men’s compatriots were probably getting closer by the second.

I put the Glock in my jeans and held the Beretta in my right hand…

Went back outside the barn and scooped Lucia up in my arms…

And I ran.

56

Once I thought we were out of immediate danger, I slowed down to a walk. I needed to be able to listen for pursuers.

But as much as I strained to hear anything, there was nothing but birds chirping and the wind blowing through the trees. Occasionally we passed by a burbling stream.

Lucia never made a sound. She just lay in my arms, her head against my chest.

Every so often I would whisper, “Lucia? Baby?”

But there was never any answer.

I stopped a couple of times to rest. I drank some water from the canteens, then tried to get her to take some, as well.

When she didn’t react, I didn’t force it. I was afraid if I put water in her mouth, she might choke to death.

When the light faded and the temperature began to drop, I put on flannels and a jacket.

I also took out her jacket and forced her arms through the sleeves.

It was like dressing a mannequin. She had no reaction whatsoever.

The entire time, I whispered to her. “It’s going to be okay… you’re okay, baby… you saved my life… thank you so much… it’s okay, Lucia… you’re going to be okay…”

Although truthfully, I don’t know if I was trying to comfort her… or myself.

As I moved through the woods, I took stock of various cabins. I automatically ruled out the first ones we passed because they were too close to our last cabin.

Only during the third and fourth hours did I begin to pay serious attention to our choices.

The majority were too close to other cabins, or there was a car parked out front.

Finally, as the light edged towards darkness and it truly began to get cold, I found a good option.

It was newer than the last cabin, and I hoped it might have electricity.

I didn’t bother trying to find a key – I just kicked in the back door. The window broke from the force, but the lock gave way instantly.

I went inside with Lucia in my arms.

I nudged the door closed with my foot and looked around.

There was a sofa along one wall. I quickly went over and set her down on the cushions.

She stared ahead with blank eyes – but she immediately clutched her arms around her knees again and went back to rocking herself, which frightened me more than if she’d done nothing.

I took my canteens, backpack, and rifle off. Then I went looking for the bedroom.

I found a comforter, brought it back to the living area, and draped it over her shoulders.

Then I felt her hands. They were freezing cold.

I went to the backpack, got out the brandy, and sat down in front of her. I pulled up my t-shirt to expose my stomach, then placed her hands against me to get the warmth of skin-to-skin contact.

I uncorked the brandy, stuck my finger in it, and pried open her mouth to put a few drops in. When she didn’t react, I did it again.

I hoped it would trickle down her throat – get her coughing – cursing –

Anything was better than her blank, empty stare and the relentless rocking.

The entire time, I spoke to her in a gentle voice.

“We’re safe now. I’m not gonna let anything like that ever happen again, I promise. I fucked up – I let my guard down and I should’ve known better. Everything that happened is on me, not you, okay? I fucked up, and you saved my life. Thank you. You saved me, baby… and it’s gonna be okay… I promise I’m going to keep you safe from now on – ”

Suddenly, she twitched.

I pulled my brandy-soaked finger away from her lips.

She looked up into my eyes –

And her face crumpled into an expression of grief so deep and so painful it pierced my heart like a spear.

“Th-they’re dead,” she whispered, and burst into tears.

57

Lucia

I’m six years old.

I’m sitting in the back seat of the car that Daddy got from the airport.

I’d never been on a plane before – I’ve never even been in a car before! We live in Venice and don’t have cars, just boats.

I’m sitting with a seatbelt over my lap. My stuffed bunny rabbit is in my arms.

Daddy is driving, and Mommy is sitting in the passenger seat next to him.

Daddy’s driving with his left hand, but his right hand is holding Mommy’s. I can see them holding hands through the gap between the front seats.

They’re so happy. I’ve never seen them so happy before, and it makes me happy.

Mommy and Daddy are talking. Every so often, one of them looks back through the seats at me. They smile and ask if I’m okay. I nod and tell them yes.

The world outside is flying by so fast – so much faster than in a boat!

This is the first time I’ve ever been outside of Venice. I don’t remember the name of where we are or where we’re going, but it’s sunny outside and it’s a beautiful day.

And then everything changes.

Daddy slows down for a stop sign… then he speeds up –

And there’s a horrible sound, a CRUNCH loud as thunder, followed by the sound of breaking glass.

It feels like someone’s pushed me hard, and I whip back and forth in my seat as the car skids sideways.

The car comes to a halt, and there’s the loud blare of a horn.

Mommy and Daddy are both in the front seat. Airbags like big white balloons have gone off in front of them.

Daddy looks around at me. There’s blood trickling down his face. He looks frightened. “Lucia, are you alright?”

Mommy turns around to look at me, too. She has blood coming out of her nose. “Lucia – ”

Then there is a scary sound like an angry hornet, the loudest insect in the world –

And a motorcycle pulls up right next to Daddy’s window.

The man riding it is dressed all in black, and he wears a black helmet with a dark mirror where his eyes should be.

I can see him clearly because all the glass in Daddy’s window is gone.

The motorcycle man raises a pistol and fires.

The sound is even more terrible than the car crash, and it happens over and over and over.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG –

Daddy and Mommy both jerk.

Red sprays all over the white airbags.

Drops of something hot and wet spray on my face –

And then the motorcycle man points his gun at me.

I can see the little black circle at the end. Smoke is drifting out of it.

I wait for him to kill me –

But I guess he changes his mind because he lowers the gun and drives off.

There is the sound of another car roaring up next to ours. Men shout, car doors slam shut, and the car drives away.

I’m alone in the backseat of the car.

The horn is still honking loud.

Mommy and Daddy are slumped forward in their seats…

And I scream, and scream, and scream.

It feels like I scream forever.

* * *

Now I’m sitting by myself on a wooden bench in a hallway.

I don’t remember how I got here. It was all a big blur.

I wonder where I am – and then I realize I have to be back in Venice because Nona walks into the hallway. Nona never leaves Venice.

She’s wearing a black dress like she always does…

And when she sees me, she starts to cry.

That scares me, because Nona never cries.

She walks over to the bench, sits down next to me, and takes me in her arms.

And as she rocks me back and forth, she whispers in my ear, I’m so sorry, my sweet girl… I’m so sorry…

58

Massimo

“…and… and that’s when I went to live with her,” Lucia sobbed.

Her body trembled as I held her in my arms.

She had cried non-stop for ten minutes. After that, she was barely able to get out the details of what had happened when she was six years old.

And as she told me…

My heart broke for her.

It shattered into a thousand pieces, and I knew I would never be able to put it back together.

I didn’t cry. I haven’t cried in years, not since I was a teenager and my mother died…

But the room was blurry as I rocked her in my arms.

“I’m sorry, Lucia,” I whispered, and I kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry.”

She pushed herself away from my chest. At first I thought it was because she didn’t want me to hold her any longer –

But instead it was so she could look me in the eye.

“D-don’t leave me,” she whispered in a shaky voice.

“I won’t,” I promised.

“P-please don’t ever leave me,” she begged –

Then she burst into tears again.

I pulled her in close to my chest and whispered in her ear, “I won’t. I’m here – I’ll always be here. I swear I won’t ever leave you.”

She finally cried herself out. When there were no more tears, she fell asleep in my arms…

Her face as innocent and angelic as a little girl.

A little girl who had lost so much.

I kept on rocking her, unwilling to let go.

I made an oath to myself at that moment.

I would never let my guard down again.

I would never fail her like I had today…

And I would keep her safe.

Forever.

No matter what.

59

Lucia

I was in the back of the car again, the one from my childhood vacation.

Except I was my age now – 21.

My parents weren’t there. The front seat was empty.

But the motorcycle rider was outside the broken window with his black helmet and mirrored visor.

He stared at me –

And there was a gunshot, deafeningly loud –

But this time, the gun was in my hands.

I looked down at the smoking shotgun, then back up at him –

And I realized it wasn’t a man on the motorcycle.

It was me.

The helmet was gone, and I was staring at my own face covered in blood.

My whole body jerked –

* * *

And I jolted awake.

I was in a bed. Everything was dark –

But Massimo was lying there in front of me. I saw his dimly lit face and felt his comforting hand on my arm.

“You’re safe,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

Despite what he said, I jerked up on one elbow and looked around, terrified that men in camouflage would be there –

Or a man in black motorcycle leathers with a mirrored visor on his helmet.

“Everything’s okay,” Massimo murmured as he gently stroked my arm. “You’re safe.”

I calmed down enough to take in my surroundings.

The room was silhouetted by moonlight filtering in through the window. I didn’t recognize anything. It was a completely different layout from what I remembered. Even the bed felt different – stiffer.

“Where are we?” I whispered.

“Another cabin.”

“How did we get here?”

“I carried you. You don’t remember?”

The memory of me telling Massimo about my parents came flooding back.

But strangely…

Instead of pain and sadness…

I just felt relief.

I collapsed back on the bed, stared into his kind face…

And I smiled weakly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said as he smiled back. He brushed a strand of hair away from my face. “How are you feeling?”

“…empty.”

His brow knitted together in a frown.

“No, it’s a good feeling,” I reassured him. “Well… not good… but a relief. Like I’ve been carrying around something horrible… and now it’s gone.”

Sadness welled up inside of me from out of nowhere, and my eyes filled with tears.

“Hey… hey,” Massimo whispered, and he pulled me to his chest and hugged me.

After a few sobs escaped my body…

I relaxed.

I felt so safe.

I laughed a little through my tears. “I guess it’s not completely gone.”

“I wouldn’t expect it to be,” he murmured as he stroked my hair.

I loved it… the gentle rhythm of him touching my hair… the feel of his strong arms around me.

Despite the sadness, I felt a peace I hadn’t felt in…

Actually, I’m not sure I had ever felt it before.

Not since my parents died.

Massimo drew back so he could he could look in my eyes. He took my hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. “Thank you for saving my life back there.”

Tears blurred my vision again – but this time, they were happy tears. “Thank you for saving mine.”

“But I didn’t. That was all you.”

“I meant back in Venice.” I grinned. “Even if you did spank my ass in front of God and everybody.”

He laughed, and I saw a look of relief fill his face.

Then we kissed softly…

And he held me in his arms until I slept again.

60

Massimo

I kept the Beretta behind me on the bed where I could reach it.

I stayed awake for most of the night. At best, I dozed lightly. Every creak of the house and noise in the night startled me awake.

But Lucia slept soundly… her face troubled at times, but no less angelic. I watched her for hours as she lay there in my arms.

When dawn peeked through the window, I still held her until she woke.

She looked up at me sleepily… smiled… kissed me gently on the lips… and put her head back down on the crook of my shoulder.

“You watched me the whole night, didn’t you,” she whispered.

“Some of it,” I said.

She looked up at me from under her eyebrows like Tell the truth.

“…most of it,” I admitted.

She smiled again and hugged me, then laid her head back down.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

She nodded. I felt the movement of her head moving against my chest.

We lay there in silence for another minute, then got up to eat.

* * *

We had canned peaches and pears for breakfast. We didn’t say anything as we ate… but I did bring up something important as we finished.

“I don’t think we should stay here,” I said gently.

She nodded but didn’t look at me. “That’s probably a good idea.”

I searched the house and found a few cans of soup I added to my dwindling supply in the backpack. I also found a half-used tube of toothpaste in the bathroom. After we washed our mouths out and splashed our faces with cold water, we set off into the woods.

* * *

I didn’t make the same mistake twice. We kept moving, never spending more than one night in any location.

Sometimes there was electricity and hot water where we stayed, and we could take showers and have a hot meal. Sometimes there wasn’t, and we roughed it.

Lucia never complained.

She seemed lost in a haze of melancholy for several days and didn’t talk much. But she was very affectionate and took every opportunity to hug me and be near me.

I always kept an eye on her. I was worried about how she was handling the trauma of shooting the man at the barn…

And reliving the loss of her parents.

I asked her several times if she wanted to talk about anything, but she always said ‘no.’

However, she would always cuddle up next to me afterwards or hold my hand if we were walking.

I figured she was healing. I did my best to give her the space to do so.

At night, I would hold her in my arms. She was usually tired from hiking, so she would fall asleep quickly.

Sometimes she cried out, troubled by dreams… but mostly her sleep was peaceful.

We weren’t intimate during that time. I wanted to give her the chance to heal, so I didn’t try anything.

I’d been celibate since my father had died, mostly because of circumstances and my depression and grief over losing him. That had been fine. It was like my libido shifted into a much lower gear, and I could relieve things myself if I felt the urge.

But since I’d slept with Lucia, something primal had sparked deep inside me. She had awakened the beast inside me.

I’d had a taste of the best sex of my life – and I wanted more.

Now the longer I went, the more the pressure built up – and the more turned on I was by her beauty.

And her body.

Lying awake with her in my arms at night sometimes made my cock so hard it ached…

But I was careful not to pressure her.

After four nights of moving from cabin to cabin, I was concerned that maybe she no longer felt attracted to me… that perhaps telling me about her parents had somehow made her see me differently.

And then, on the fifth night, that changed.

I was lying in bed waiting for her to finish in the bathroom. We’d found a place with hot running water, and after a quick shower, I was lying in my boxer shorts.

I heard the shower turn off – and after a few minutes, she walked into the bedroom.

She was completely naked.

Her hair was damp and pulled back from her gorgeous face…

And I watched, stunned, as she sauntered over to the bed and lay down next to me.

I immediately got hard – probably the quickest erection I ever got in my life.

As she looked into my eyes, she reached down to my underwear and began softly stroking me over the cloth.

“Will you make love to me?” she whispered.

I nodded.

“Not just sex… but make love?” she asked.

I nodded again.

She helped me pull off my underwear…

And then she opened her legs to me as I took her in my arms.

I took my time before I entered her. I kissed her… caressed her breasts… nibbled at her neck… and squeezed her ass as we French-kissed.

I guess she couldn’t take it anymore, because she was the one who reached down, grabbed my cock, and put the head between her lips.

She was drenched.

First I eased the tip inside her… and then I kept going, inch by inch.

Oh god…

She felt even better than I remembered.

She was still tight – but she seemed to be able to take me more easily.

She moaned and her eyes rolled back in her head as I slowly filled her up.

When I reached as deep as I could go, I didn’t use my fist to take up the extra space at the base of my cock. This time, I was going to move slowly and gently.

We kissed, our tongues softly moving over each other.

When we weren’t kissing, I gazed deep into her eyes as I rocked back and forth inside her.

Sometimes I rolled my hips in a circle, rotating my cock inside her, hitting new spots that made her moan with pleasure.

I clutched her ass with my hands and played with the lips of her pussy as I slowly eased my shaft in and out of her.

She didn’t scream, but she whimpered louder and louder and raked her fingernails across my back whenever she came.

After half an hour of slow lovemaking, she looked at me through heavily lidded eyes and whispered, “I want you to come.”

“Are you tired?”

“No, I could do this all night… but I want to see your face when you come.”

I smiled. “Okay. I’m pretty close anyways – I’ve been holding off.”

I started to pull out of her.

“What are you doing?!” she asked in alarm. She clutched at my back to try to keep me inside her.

“I forgot to get your bag when we left, so you haven’t been able to take your birth control pills.”

She stared deep into my eyes, and a hint of a smile played on her lips.

Then she asked me very seriously, “If I did get pregnant by accident, what would you do?”

I smiled at her and stroked her hair. “I’d ask you to keep it… and I’d ask you to marry me.”

A lot of that was about duty. If I got a woman I cared for pregnant, then I was going to do the right thing.

But… I have to admit… as soon I said the words I’d ask you to marry me, I felt unexpectedly happy… and at peace.

But when I said it, Lucia gasped.

She apparently hadn’t been expecting that answer.

After a long moment, she asked hesitantly, “You wouldn’t… feel like I was trapping you?”

I smiled and shook my head no.

“You’d want to have a baby with me?” she asked, almost in disbelief.

My smile grew bigger, and I nodded yes.

Then a new look appeared on her face…

One of intense desire, so primal and so hot it looked almost like pain.

“Then I want you to come inside me,” she whispered.

“…yeah?” I murmured.

She nodded frantically. “Yes.”

I began to move my hips again.

God she felt so good – so wet and so soft.

When I began moving again, her body quivered, and her eyes rolled back in her head –

But she forced herself to look into my eyes again.

“Come inside me,” she begged.

I nodded and kissed her fiercely as I began to move my cock faster.

I could feel my balls getting tighter – that electric surge of pleasure –

“Oh god – oh god!” she said, her voice high-pitched like when she was getting close to orgasm. She grasped my face with her hands and stared into my eyes as she pleaded, “Come inside me – come inside me – ”

“Lucia,” I grunted as I sped up my thrusts. “Lucia – ”

“Massimo – MASSIMO – ” she cried out, screaming for the first time –

And I roared as I came deep inside her.

She climaxed at the same time, her entire body shaking beneath mine.

Her eyes widened, as big as I’d ever seen them before. I knew she was trying to keep them focused on me –

And we stared deep into each other’s eyes as we both came and screamed each other’s names.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore, and her eyes rolled back into her head as she gave a loud, breathy moan.

I slowed down my movements inside her…

She gradually stopped panting and looked back at me…

And we kissed again for a long, long time as I slowly circled my cock inside her.

When we broke off, she smiled. “You’re still really hard.”

“Do you want to stop?”

She shook her head and smiled even bigger. “Make love to me all night.”

I grinned. “So… do you still hate me?”

She rolled her eyes like a bratty teenager, then said, “Eh… you’re growing on me.”

I laughed and tickled her. She shrieked happily –

And then we went back to hours of long, slow lovemaking.

61

Lucia

The sex had been amazing. Different from all the times before – but absolutely amazing.

Before, it had been all about fucking – especially that first night when I was super-pissed at him.

Hot, animalistic fucking.

Sure, there was emotion and affection after that, yeah… but it was still all about fucking. Sex and orgasms, baby.

Tonight, though…

Tonight, I was all up in my feelings.

My heart felt so full as Massimo made love to me…

It was like the physical sensations took a back seat to what was going on in my soul.

The orgasm fireworks weren’t as intense – still great, just not as mind-blowing –

But the feelings?

The emotions?

I’d never felt that connected to another human being in my life.

I still came, over and over, gentle rolling swells of pleasure that got higher every time…

But I wanted him to come.

I wanted to see his expression. It was such a turn-on for me.

When I told him I wanted him to come, he started to pull out of me –

And then he told me why.

Like a dumbass, I’d totally forgotten about my birth control pills.

…no.

Scratch that.

Not like a dumbass.

I’d had a lot of stuff I’d been working through the last couple of days. A lot to deal with… so it was completely understandable that I’d forgotten.

But he’d remembered.

My first reaction was, Awwwwww, that’s so sweet!

My second reaction was, Hold up… maybe it’s NOT so sweet.

And I ended up asking a super-loaded question.

“If I did get pregnant by accident, what would you do?”

Not the best time to ask, I know – but I wasn’t really thinking straight. Orgasm brain, I guess.

His answer?

It took my breath away.

He smiled at me and tenderly stroked my hair. “I’d ask you to keep it… and I’d ask you to marry me.”

That…

I…

There are no words to describe how I felt other than blown away.

I think I was hoping for something along the lines of, Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you.

I just wanted to know that if I got in trouble, he’d be there for me – whatever I chose.

I wanted to feel safe.

I guess I might have anticipated the part about him wanting to keep it, if I’d thought it through –

But I absolutely did not expect the part about getting married.

As soon as he said it, a tidal wave of different emotions slammed into me.

There was panic – OH MY GOD – like he was talking about something way too fucking serious.

But there was also this…

I don’t know how to describe it, except as incandescent joy.

Just this indescribable burst of happiness I don’t know that I’d ever felt before.

This guy I was so hot for – who made me feel this way –

Both the way he made me feel physically, and the way he made my heart soar –

Would want to…

Would want to have a baby with me.

…and marry me.

There.

I said it.

That was the part that terrified me the most –

But it was the part that made me almost weepy with happiness, too.

And underneath it all, there was this feeling of safety.

Like… for the first time in my life, I wasn’t being tossed around in a raging river by forces I couldn’t control… but that my feet were planted on firm ground. That there was a rock I could depend on, no matter what… a support I’d never had before.

It filled me with comfort and calm and peace –

But I had to be sure.

“You wouldn’t… feel like I was trapping you?” I asked.

He smiled at me – the warmest, most caring smile I’d ever seen – and shook his head no.

I was almost in disbelief. “You’d want to have a baby with me?”

His smile just got bigger as he shook his head yes.

My heart felt like it was about to burst, I was so happy.

But a new feeling took over…

This… just… DEEP longing.

Like…

FUCK I want this man’s baby.

Trust me, I had never felt that before – NEVER –

And while it freaked me the fuck out…

I also wanted his cock inside me more than anything I’d ever wanted my entire life.

It was like the urge to breathe when you’d been underwater for too long.

“Then I want you to come inside me,” I whispered.

His grin just intensified. “…yeah?”

“Yes.”

And damn, did I mean it.

And then…

Though the sex had been really great beforehand…

It got ten times better.

He started to move inside me. There was this intensity on his face –

And it matched the intensity inside me, the part that wanted him to come inside me so bad.

He kissed me hard and began to thrust deeper inside me.

I could feel his passion, and my pussy was going craaaaaazy.

It was the emotions I was feeling – that incandescent joy plus the deep, primal need to feel him come inside me –

And then his breathing shifted. I could tell he was right there on the edge, about to come –

And I had to see him. I had to see his eyes when he came.

I put my hands on his face and made him look at me.

I was having such a hard time focusing on him – all I wanted to do was just let my eyes roll back in my head and give in to the pleasure –

But I wanted to see him come even more.

“Come inside me,” I said as I forced myself to keep my eyes on his. “Come inside me – ”

“Lucia!” he grunted as he thrust harder and faster. I could feel the head of his cock bumping deep inside me, but the sensation was overwhelming pleasure. “Lucia – ”

I screamed, “Massimo – MASSIMO – ”

And his voice was like thunder as he came.

I felt the first explosion of his cock, and that was it. An earth-shaking, mind-melting orgasm swallowed my body whole –

But the entire time, I looked into his eyes, and it was the best sensation I’d ever had in my life.

So much pleasure –

So much happiness –

Fuck, am I really gonna say this –

So much love.

It was like I left my own body – like I couldn’t contain it all, I felt so much in my heart.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I couldn’t keep looking at him – it was too difficult to keep my eyes focused on his, no matter how hot it was –

And I gave in and flung my head back and just moaned as my entire body shook.

Once the highest peak was over, we started kissing…

But I was kind of surprised at how big he still felt inside me.

During a break in the kissing, I said, “You’re still really hard.”

“Do you want to stop?” he asked.

HELL NO.

I shook my head and grinned. “Make love to me all night.”

He joked, “So… do you still hate me?”

And all those feelings welled up in me again…

The pleasure…

The incandescent joy…

(the love)

But there was no way in hell I was going to admit to all that.

I already felt like a baby bird that had just hatched… no more hard shell to protect me…

So I guess I kind of fell back on old habits.

I rolled my eyes and said, “Eh… you’re growing on me.”

He laughed in fake outrage and tickled me – I screamed happily –

And then we did it all over again… and again… and again.

62

Massimo

Despite the hardships we had to put up with, the next week was the happiest of my entire life.

Maybe it was the hardships that drove us closer together. Maybe they made everything more intense.

Whatever the case, it was absolutely amazing.

Long days of hiking through the forest…

Finding a place to shelter for the night…

And blinding-hot sex as soon as we knew we were safe.

Sometimes it was all about me trying to fuck her brains out –

And sometimes it was slow and gentle as we gazed into each other’s eyes.

I felt drunk every time I saw her face when she came – her expression of agony mixed with ecstasy.

I lived for it.

I lived for her.

And when we weren’t having sex, the affection she gave me…

The gentle touches…

The kisses…

I felt like I was floating around on a cloud most of the day.

There was also no more fighting or bickering, which was fantastic.

At most we had fake arguments where we teased each other and playfully slapped each other’s asses –

Which usually led to tumbling into bed – or sometimes a grove of ferns in the forest.

If we were outside, I would keep watch around us while I held my hand over her mouth to stifle her cries as I made her come over and over.

When it was my turn, I would stay absolutely silent as I came…

Although I loved watching her eyes roll back in her head with pleasure as she felt my cock spurt inside her.

Then we’d quickly get up, kiss, readjust our clothes, and set off on our way.

Nights of passion…

Days of affection…

And the camaraderie that came with two people trying to survive a bad situation.

Like I said, I think the hardships – the danger, the hunger, the cold – made our bond that much more intense.

And I began to think, Fuck… I’m in love with this girl.

I wanted to tell her…

But there was a part of me that held back.

…although I still think she knew. Especially from some of the questions she asked… and the answers I gave.

63

Lucia

Yes, tromping around from cabin to cabin every day was tough…

Eating nothing but canned food wasn’t fun…

And not being able to have a fire sucked. Massimo was afraid that the fires we’d had in the first two places might have attracted unwanted attention, so no more fires to warm ourselves in front of.

Which just meant we had to spend a lot more time in bed, skin to skin… usually with Massimo inside me.

The sex at night was so good it curled my toes just thinking about it.

And occasionally we fucked outdoors during the day, with him clamping his hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t scream – a kinky little addition that made me come even harder.

Plus there was this feeling of closeness I’d never experienced with anyone else.

Hell, no one in my life even came close to how much I trusted him.

On our long hikes through the woods, one of the things we talked about was his family.

Dario, the oldest brother and the new don…

Adriano, the hothead who had taken over Florence after the Agrellas’ deaths…

Niccolo, the consigliere…

His fraternal twin Roberto, who handled all the finances…

Valentino, the baby of the family…

And Lars – who wasn’t related by blood, but who everybody treated like a brother after he’d saved Dario’s life in prison.

“Your brother from another mother,” I said.

Massimo laughed. “Exactly.”

He also told me about his new sisters-in-law.

Alessandra, Dario’s wife…

And Bianca, Adriano’s new bride.

He told me all sorts of wild stories connected with the two of them.

About a Turkish gangster who had kidnapped Alessandra because she was the long-lost granddaughter of the family who ran Genoa…

And about a scary Sicilian mobster whom Bianca killed (and in doing so, nearly died herself) when she grabbed the steering wheel and flipped a car going 100 miles per hour.

“Sounds like you have some badass sisters-in-law,” I said in awe.

He nodded. “It’s true, I do.”

He also told me stories about his traitorous uncle and cousin. Fausto and Aurelio had not only conspired to kill Massimo and his brothers, but to turn the rest of the Cosa Nostra against them.

“It certainly worked on Nona and me,” I said, a little frightened by how effective his uncle’s plans had been.

“Thankfully, your grandmother listened to what I had to say.”

“I did, too,” I pouted, wanting my share of the credit.

“And you did, too.” He paused. “…after a bit of persuading.”

“With your cock?” I teased as I reached over and groped him through the front of his jeans.

“Was that what did it?” he asked with a grin.

“Yup. Dick-plomacy.”

He didn’t understand my English pun, so I had to explain it: diplomacy… DICK-plomacy…

Once he got it, he laughed heartily. “I was thinking of tossing you over my shoulder and spanking your ass, but I like ‘dick-plomacy’ better.”

“Well, I do like being spanked… but yeah, I like dick-plomacy better, too,” I agreed.

“Yeah?” he growled.

He stopped walking, turned to face me, and pulled me towards him with his hands on my ass.

“…yeah,” I whispered as I felt his cock getting hard beneath his jeans.

That was one of those times we ended up in a bed of ferns.

64

So the sex was abso-fucking-lutely great…

Until I almost blew it again with another loaded question.

We were lying in bed one night after another round of multiple orgasms, and I was tracing my fingers across his skin.

I noticed he had a couple of round scars on his body.

“Is this a bullet wound?” I asked as I pointed at one on his abdomen.

“Uh-huh.”

“You have two of them?”

“Three, actually. Occupational hazard.”

“Did you get them all at the same time?”

“No.” He pointed them out one by one. “That was from a shootout when I was 20… that happened a couple of years ago when a rival family went after me and my brothers… and that was from protecting Alessandra in Florence.”

The final one was a line of scar tissue on his arm like someone had cut him with a particularly nasty blade.

“You protected her? How?”

“Actually, she protected me – I just didn’t know it at the time. Remember the Turk? He had some of his guys try to kidnap Alessandra in Florence. I hustled her over to our car, but the only reason they didn’t kill me was because they were trying to avoid shooting her.”

“Well, you still protected her,” I protested.

“That’s my job,” he said nonchalantly.

“You mean, in your family? You’re, like, a bodyguard?”

“No – that’s my job as a man.”

I got up on one elbow so I could look at him. “What do you mean, ‘that’s your job as a man’?”

“Men are supposed to be the protectors.” He smiled and caressed my cheek with his hand. “Although… sometimes… they’re the ones who get protected.”

I knew he was talking about what had happened in the barn.

I kissed his hand and smiled…

But I still wanted to know what he was talking about.

“Okay, so – you’re supposed to protect all women?”

“Well… I mean, if I can, I guess. But I was specifically talking about family.”

“Like your sister-in-law,” I said.

“Yes. Although she wasn’t my sister-in-law at the time.”

I know it was completely irrational –

I mean, the chick had married his brother and was now his sister –

But I got hit with a bolt of jealousy.

I don’t know why, exactly…

Although maybe it was just the thought that he would do that for any other woman besides me.

Massimo continued, unaware of the green-eyed monster gnawing at my heart. “I meant more along the lines of a man’s wife and his children.”

Without thinking – and probably because I was still jealous – I blurted out, “So you’d protect our children.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I about had a panic attack.

SHIT – why did I SAY that?!

But Massimo just smiled at me. “Yes… but that’ll be your job, too.”

My fear subsided a little and was replaced by curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“It means that I keep you and our children safe… and you keep our children safe. You’re the last line of defense.”

“…the last line of defense?” I asked uneasily.

“If something happens to me.”

My chest constricted and turned cold. “You said you wouldn’t leave me.”

It was like six-year-old Lucia had taken over my body and was giving voice to my deepest fears.

“The only way I would ever leave you is if I had to die to protect you.” He smiled. “And our children. That’s my job.”

His words slammed into me again with another tidal wave of emotion.

There was grief as I pictured my parents dying in front of me…

But there was also this deep gratitude. Because I knew without question that my parents would have given their lives to save me.

It’s just that they were taken by surprise. They had been killed before they could even make the choice.

But there was another emotion that raced through me:

Overwhelming love.

That this man wasn’t running from talking about having children with me…

That he wasn’t running from talking about his duties…

That it was actually part of his code – the entire definition he had of himself as a man.

That he would fight and even die for me and our children…

And he expected me to do the same for them if the time ever came.

My eyes filled with tears that spilled down my cheeks.

He misinterpreted what my tears meant, though.

He thought that I was thinking of my parents.

Or, more accurately, he thought I was only thinking of my parents.

“Hey… I’m sorry,” he whispered as he gathered me to his chest. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

I pushed away from him. I could see a hint of fear in his eyes, afraid that he’d said something to fuck it all up –

But instead, I only pushed away from him so that I could grab his face and kiss him.

Passionately.

With all my heart.

He kissed me back just as passionately.

When our lips finally parted, he whispered, “What was that for?”

“For being you,” I whispered.

I wiped the tears from my eyes – and he helped, brushing them away with his thumb.

“You okay?” he asked.

Dumbass me – I should have just told him what I was feeling.

I love you. I LOVE you. I LOVE YOU.

That’s what I wanted to do –

But I was afraid.

Afraid he wouldn’t say it back.

So I took the easy way out…

And said the one thing it was easy for me to say:

“I need to fuck you right now.”

He laughed, totally surprised – but to his credit, he rolled with it. “Well, I’m not gonna say ‘no’ to that.”

I straddled him and kissed him desperately, never wanting to let him go…

And as soon as I felt his cock grow stiff enough, I reached down and put it inside me.

And I rocked my hips as I kissed him over and over.

This time, though, I didn’t focus on me and my orgasm –

I wanted to do something for him.

“What can I do to make it hotter for you?” I whispered as I rode him.

“I don’t think you can,” he murmured.

O-ho – a CHALLENGE.

I knew what he liked…

So I reached down, grabbed his hands, and placed them on my ass.

Then I leaned down and whispered in his ear, “I hate you.”

Of course, what I really meant was, I LOVE you.

Maybe that’s the only way I could say ‘I love you’ – with the opposite.

I don’t know.

But I said it over and over again, with all the sweetness and fervor I felt inside me.

He liked it.

When I finally pulled away because I was getting close to coming, he stared up at me like he was hypnotized.

One hand still squeezed my ass, but the other reached up and caressed my breasts as I rode his cock, getting closer and closer to orgasm, and my whispers gradually became shrieks.

“I hate you… I hate you… I HATE you…”

All the while meaning I love you… I love you… I love you…

Until we both came at the same time, and I collapsed on his chest, and we kissed.

65

Massimo

When she told me I hate you…

I knew exactly what she meant.

She was just afraid of saying it.

And to be truthful, I didn’t want to say it, either.

Not because I was afraid of saying the words…

But because I was afraid of what her reaction might be.

She’d told me how she’d run away from relationships in the past. It made sense, given her parents’ deaths.

If she never got close to anyone… then she didn’t have to lose them.

So I didn’t say what I really wanted to say… which was, I love you.

She didn’t want to say I love you for whatever reasons she had…

And I didn’t say it because I didn’t want to scare her away.

So we said it with our actions. With our bodies.

And Lucia said it with her tone of voice whenever she whispered, I hate you.

In retrospect, I wish I’d taken the leap and said I love you when I had the chance…

Because just a few days later, that chance was gone.

66

The sex was incredible… the bond between us grew stronger every second we spent together…

But the hardships began to multiply.

It started when we began to run out of food.

We’d been on our own for over three weeks at that point. Three weeks of hopping from cabin to cabin on a nightly basis.

Luck was on our side: no more signs of Aurelio’s men, plus we’d found several cabins with stockpiles of canned food – enough that we were able to replenish our supplies.

But then a long streak of bare cupboards reduced us to rationing.

Combined with the long hikes every day, it was a recipe for exhaustion… and ultimately disaster if we didn’t do something about it.

I knew we had to go into town soon and stock up. There wasn’t any other choice.

The rains just accelerated the decision.

We’d had an unbroken streak of good weather for weeks – but in the Dolomites, it typically rains a third of the month during July.

Our luck disappeared, and we got rain six days in a row with no sign of letting up.

There was a near-constant drizzle – and occasionally a downpour.

The small rivers in the forest swelled to three times their normal size, which made it harder to cross.

Not only were we slogging through cold, wet forests and across muddy ground…

But when we found a place to stay every night, we couldn’t make a fire to warm up. I was too afraid it would draw attention – and potentially Aurelio’s bounty hunters.

So Lucia and I would strip down naked and jump into bed, which was definitely a plus…

But in the morning, we had to dress in damp, cold clothes and go tromping around in the rain again.

I thought about stealing a car again and driving away – but I quickly abandoned the idea. There were only two roads in and out of Padola. Aurelio’s men would surely be monitoring them. I couldn’t take the chance of running into a roadblock.

Despite all our problems, Lucia didn’t complain, not once – which was a 180-degree turnaround from how we’d started our adventure.

But I knew it was taking a real toll on her. She started to look exhausted and pale.

It got so bad that I finally decided to start staying in one place for two nights at a time. I even broke down and made a fire one evening so she could be warm, although we left first thing the next morning.

When we were down to our last couple of cans of food, I said, “We’ve got to go back into town.”

She looked at me warily. “Are you sure?”

“We’re almost out of food. And we could use some fresh clothes.”

“Ours do smell pretty fucking awful,” she said with a wan smile.

It was true; we hadn’t been able to wash what few items we had. Plus, I’d left most of our clothes behind us when I’d run away from the barn carrying her in my arms.

“I also need to call my brothers and see what’s going on. Maybe things have died down enough that Niccolo or your grandmother can bring us in.”

“Oh God, I hope so,” she muttered. Then she got a worried look on her face.

“What?” I asked.

“Do we have to leave?”

I laughed. “I thought you’d be looking forward to hot showers, warm beds, and a real meal.”

“I AM, but… if we do have to go home… what happens to us? To you and me?”

The worry on her face became real fear.

I smiled and brushed back her damp hair. “Nothing. I told you, I’m never leaving you.”

“You promise?” she whispered.

“I promise,” I said, then kissed her.

67

The trek into town was unpleasant, to say the least.

We didn’t have a car, so we had to walk about six miles in the rain. Because the muddy backroads were so difficult to travel, we left the cabin at 9 AM and finally reached Padola around noon.

The distance was less than what we normally hiked in a day… but we were going to have to walk back, too. Maybe even farther, depending on how easy it was to find a suitable place to stay.

Poor Lucia was wiped out by the time we got to town, but she kept up a brave face and didn’t utter a single word of complaint.

I promised myself that once we got out of Padola – and once I no longer had to deal with Fausto and Aurelio’s vicious plots – I would take her someplace wonderful and show her the time of her life.

I hid the hunting rifle in a thicket on the outskirts of town. Couldn’t exactly go traipsing around with it slung over my shoulder.

Then we continued into Padola.

The first thing we did was buy cups of hot cocoa from a coffee shop. Lucia sipped hers and happily ate three apple Danishes.

While she did that, I made a call from one of the few pay phones in town.

I inserted change I got from the coffee shop and dialed Niccolo’s cell. We had a protocol where I would text him a code if I was calling from a strange number – but that only worked for cells. I was on a pay phone, so texting was out. Instead, I would leave a voice message and call back every five minutes until he answered.

Surprisingly, he answered on the third ring.

He didn’t say anything – also protocol if we broke the rules – so I spoke first. “It’s me, and things are outstanding.”

‘Outstanding’ was part of the code. It let him know there wasn’t anybody forcing me to make the call at gunpoint.

“Thank God – we were worried you were dead,” he said, and I could hear real concern in his voice.

“I came close three weeks ago when we ran into some of Aurelio’s men. Lucia actually saved my life.”

“REALLY.” I could tell he was impressed.

“Yeah, but we had to get out fast. I left my cell phone behind because I was afraid we might have been tracked. And we didn’t go into town again until we absolutely had to get more food.”

“You’re alright?”

“A few pounds lighter, but a diet never hurt anybody.”

Niccolo chuckled. “We’ll fatten you up when you get back home.”

“Speaking of which – ”

“I still don’t trust any of the private jet companies, but I can send Lars and some men to get you by car. He’s getting back tomorrow morning – ”

“From where?”

“All over. He’s been hunting for that assassin who took a shot at Dario.”

“Why?!” I asked, shocked. If Lars hadn’t been able to kill the gunman outright, there was no good reason to go chasing him all over Italy.

“It’s a long story. Things have been… interesting since we last talked,” Niccolo said grimly. “Roberto’s still in Hong Kong and Valentino’s in Sicily – ”

“What?! What do you mean, Roberto’s still in Hong Kong? And why’s Valentino in Sicily?!”

“I can’t go into detail, but let’s just say it’s been a whirlwind the last few weeks.”

Niccolo meant it wasn’t safe to speak over the phone in case we were being monitored.

Considering I was on a public phone that could have been bugged, it wasn’t paranoia on his part.

“Alright… so… what do we do about meeting up with Lars?”

“If my caller ID is correct, then it’s a five or six-hour drive to where you are.”

“Yeah.”

“As soon as Lars gets home, I’ll send him to retrieve you. Plan on 6 PM. Call me again from this number shortly before 6, and I’ll confirm where he should pick you up.”

“Can’t you just send a bunch of our guys today?”

“I want somebody I trust in charge – not just for their loyalty, but to do the job right. In case Fausto or Aurelio rear their ugly heads.”

“What about Adriano? Is he still recovering?”

“No, he’s alright – I might even send him along. But if we’re going to extract you from enemy territory, I’d rather use the guy who did it for a living.”

He meant Lars’s past as a Special Forces operative.

“Okay.”

“Can you make it another night out there on your own?”

“With my eyes closed and my hands tied behind my back.”

“Ha – well, THAT won’t be necessary.”

Despite our impending rescue, I was worried that Lucia and I might be separated.

“What about the Widow?”

“Venice is still in play. It’s not safe for you OR Lucia to go back there – not yet.”

Relief flooded my body. “Okay. Should I at least call her to check in?”

“No – there’s an even greater chance that HER phones are bugged. I don’t want anybody knowing where you are.”

“Too late. After we took care of the two guys who found us, Fausto already knows where we are.”

“But you’ve been able to evade them since then?”

“Yes.”

“Well, no need to send up a flare to let them know you’re still around. I’ll get word to the Widow. Don’t worry about that.”

“Just because I know Lucia will ask – is her grandmother okay?”

Niccolo snorted. “I don’t think you could kill the old bat with a whole jar full of arsenic. She’s fine, last I heard – better than fine. Peacetime bored her. Now she has something to do. Although she’s pretty frantic about her granddaughter.”

“Lucia’s safe. You can tell her that much.”

“Will do. I’m sorry you’ve been stranded out there, brother.”

“Not a problem.”

And it wasn’t. If I hadn’t been stuck out here for three weeks, I would have never had this time with Lucia…

And that would have been an unfathomable loss.

“It’ll be good to have you back home safe and sound.”

“Amen.”

Niccolo chuckled. “Alright… 6 PM tomorrow.”

“Talk to you shortly before then. Give everyone my regards.”

“Will do.”

Then I hung up.

I walked over to Lucia, who had finished up her Danishes. She looked at me with wide eyes.

“…well?” she asked with trepidation.

“We’re getting picked up tomorrow evening and going to my family’s place.”

“Yaaay!” she squealed as she hugged me. Then she pulled back her head to look up at me. “Not that this three weeks with you hasn’t been the best time of my life, but…”

The best time of my life.

I felt the exact same way, and I smiled at her. “Let’s make the next three weeks even better – with a soft bed, hot meals, and a safe place to stay.”

She stood up on her tiptoes, I bent down, and we kissed.

When she pulled back, she had a worried look on her face. “What about Nona?”

“She’s fine – but my brother thinks it’s best if we hang out in Tuscany for a while.”

“But she’s not in any danger?”

“A little… but Niccolo made it sound like she’s thriving.”

“Yeah, that would be Nona,” Lucia said wryly.

“The only thing bothering her is she’s worried about you.”

“Well, I’m in good hands,” Lucia beamed – then begged, “Can we stay in an actual hotel tonight while we wait?”

“It’s still too dangerous.”

“…okay,” she agreed, her voice disappointed but not petulant.

“Let’s go buy enough food for tonight and then go find a new place.”

“Can we get a bottle of wine and fuck like bunnies?” she asked with a naughty smirk.

I laughed. “Sounds good to me.”

Lucia’s eyebrows rose up, and she looked down at where her belly was pressed against my crotch. “I felt that, you know.”

“You keep talking about fucking like bunnies, we might have to go get that hotel right now.”

“Fuck like bunnies, fuck like bunnies, fuck like bunnies,” she chanted.

I laughed, swatted her on the butt, and turned her around. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Man…” she grumbled playfully, then took my hand as we walked off together in the rain.

68

The first thing we did was go back to the clothing store and get an entirely new outfit for Lucia.

The ecstasy on her face when she walked out of the dressing room in a new set of clean, dry clothes?

It was an expression I normally only saw when she was having an orgasm.

“OH MY GOD, THIS FEELS SO GOOD,” she moaned theatrically.

They didn’t have jeans or flannels in my size, but I was able to get a new XXL t-shirt, underwear, and a rainproof parka. After weeks of wearing the same clothes, it felt absolutely luxurious.

Not only that, I bought two of everything – so we could change into something dry when we reached our destination for the night.

“And umbrellas… please, let’s get some umbrellas,” Lucia begged.

I laughed and grabbed a couple of extendable folding umbrellas, too.

We left the shop holding the umbrellas over our heads – but still holding hands.

“Can we eat lunch in a restaurant?” she asked.

“No, I still want to get out of town as soon as possible. But we can buy anything you want at the grocery store.”

“Fine…”

We got a 70-euro bottle of champagne at the grocery store – the most expensive one they had – plus tins of smoked oysters and lobster claws, and even locally-made tiramisu in a plastic take-out container.

When we found the tiramisu in the cold case, Lucia also saw tubs of gelato – Italian ice cream.

“Can we?” she asked in excitement.

“They’ll melt before we get back.”

“Let’s eat them now!”

“Isn’t it a little cold for gelato?”

“I don’t care!”

I paid the grocer for two containers. Then we got some plastic spoons and proceeded to have an orgy of Italian ice cream. She got amaretto and I got banana.

“Sooooo goooooood,” Lucia groaned as she put a spoonful in her mouth.

After weeks of tuna fish and canned beans, the gelato was the best ice cream I’d ever tasted.

As we ate, we talked.

“So what’s the plan for tomorrow?” she asked.

“Lars is going to drive here with some of our guys and take us back. He’s still out of town, or he’d come today.”

After all the stories I’d told her over the last three weeks, Lucia knew exactly who I was talking about – and her eyes grew wide. “If they’re waiting to send Lars specifically… that sounds serious.”

“Niccolo doesn’t want to take any chances.”

“What happens when…”

“When it’s time for you to go home to Venice?” I said softly.

She nodded, her face worried.

I put my finger under her chin and lifted her head lovingly. “I’ll have a talk with your grandmother and my brothers. But no matter what, I’m not ever letting you go.”

She beamed happily and we kissed.

“Don’t worry,” she said impishly. “If Nona throws a fit, I’ll just tell her you knocked me up.”

I laughed. “Let’s tell her a little more diplomatically than that.”

“Aaaah, don’t worry – she’s not gonna kill the father of her great-grandchild.”

“So you think you’re pregnant?” I teased her.

“Why, do I look fat?” she asked as she poked out her belly underneath her new clothes. She held her stomach with one hand underneath, the way a very pregnant woman would. “It’s just a food baby.”

“A what?”

“Ice cream and Danishes. You know – a food baby.”

“Too bad.”

She grinned. “Remember – you said if I got pregnant, you’d marry me.”

“And I meant it.”

She put down her cup of gelato, unfolded a napkin, and put it over her head like a veil.

“I’d make a beautiful bride, wouldn’t I?” she asked as she fluttered her eyelashes like a Disney princess.

I laughed. “Yes, you would.”

Then I looked over Lucia’s head and saw something.

“Hold on,” I said as I walked past her.

“You’re not leaving me at the altar, are you?” she said in mock outrage.

“Nope. Far from it.”

I went over to the gumball machine, checked to make sure it had what I wanted, and started pumping in coins and turning the handle.

It took me seven tries to get what I wanted.

Lucia knew I was messing with the gumball machine. The krrrccck when I turned the handle could be heard throughout the small store.

“What, are you getting me some wedding tattoos?” she joked. “Maybe some bubblegum for the reception?”

“No…” I said as I walked over…

Got down on one knee in front of her…

And held a tiny plastic gold ring with a tiny plastic red ruby on it.

Lucia looked utterly and totally shocked – almost like she’d seen a ghost – and took a step back from me.

I certainly didn’t expect that reaction.

I looked up at her with concern. “Are you okay?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “…do you mean it?”

I didn’t answer right away.

One second we’d been joking around… and then things had gotten very serious, very quickly.

When I didn’t immediately answer, she whispered, “I was joking around before, Massimo, and it’s okay if you don’t want it for real… but… don’t do this if you don’t mean it.”

As I knelt there, I gave it some real thought.

About the previous three weeks…

And all the trials we’d gone through together…

And how every night when I went to sleep, I was happy holding her in my arms…

And how when I woke up, I was happy because I got to see her face.

Like she’d said earlier, the previous three weeks – no matter how tough the circumstances – had been the happiest three weeks of my life.

I made my decision.

“I know this isn’t the ring you deserve, and I’ll get you a better one… but Lucia Fioretti… will you marry me?” I asked quietly.

A sob wracked her body. She put one hand to her mouth…

And then she laughed through her tears and rapidly nodded her head ‘yes.’

Then, smiling with joy, she held out her left hand.

I slipped the toy on her ring finger, stood up… and kissed her.

Suddenly there was a noise behind us.

The only other person in the shop – the old man behind the register – was clapping. He had a big smile on his face.

“Meraviglioso! Congratulazioni!”

Wonderful! Congratulations!

Lucia and I both laughed as we walked over to the register.

“Ma devi comunque pagare la spesa,” he said seriously.

But you still have to pay for your groceries.

69

Lucia

During our hike back through the woods, I held my umbrella in my right hand – and admired the ring on my left.

I held out my hand in front of me at different angles: down low, up high, hand flat, palm facing outwards. The red plastic gem didn’t catch any sunlight since there was no sunlight to catch, but I didn’t care.

I was absolutely giddy.

When I was little, before my parents died, I used to sneak into my mother’s bedroom and play with her jewelry. She kept it in a polished wooden box with black velvet inside – and it thrilled me every time I opened the lid and saw the glittering bracelets and earrings.

But my absolute favorites were her rings. They were way too big for my tiny little fingers, but I loved putting them on and admiring them. Sometimes when Mama caught me, she would smile and take off her wedding and engagement rings and let me wear them for a few minutes.

But my favorite was when I got a ring of my own –

Out of a bubblegum machine.

I was five years old. I don’t remember why I was in the store – whether it was in Venice or on another vacation – but I remembered my excitement when I put in the coin my father gave me, turned the handle clack-clack-clack, and my very own ring came tumbling out in a plastic bubble.

It was cheap – painted shiny gold, with a piece of clear plastic that was supposed to be a diamond – but I loved it.

I wore it every day for months until the gold paint flaked off and the ring finally broke.

Massimo had unknowingly summoned all those memories of when I was five years old, before tragedy destroyed everything…

When I was still innocent and didn’t know my parents might not always be there…

And my most treasured possession was a toy out of a bubblegum machine.

As I looked at my new ring, I knew it was childish…

But that’s how Massimo made me feel: like a child.

In a good way. The best way possible.

Happy… playful… like I was living inside a storybook…

And he made me feel safe.

Safer than I’d ever felt since I was six years old.

“If I had my phone, I would totally take a picture and put it on Instagram,” I said as we started down a muddy back road.

Massimo chuckled. “Wait until we get you a better one.”

“Nope. As soon as I get a phone, I’m posting it.”

“Won’t people make fun of you?”

“Oh yeah,” I agreed happily. “Fuck ‘em.”

He laughed out loud, stopped me in my tracks, and kissed me.

I was the happiest girl in the world.

After we started walking again, hand in hand, I told him, “I used to have a ring like this when I was little.”

“What happened to it?”

“It broke.”

“Did you keep it after it broke?”

“…no,” I said, and suddenly became somber. “I threw away a lot of things when I was little that I wish I’d kept.”

Massimo could tell that something had shifted.

“Like what?” he asked gently.

I stared off into the distance, lost in the past. “I had a little stuffed rabbit that I loved. I don’t know when I got it – it was just always there, ever since I could remember.

“I had it with me when my parents died. Afterwards, I couldn’t bear to look at it anymore… so I told Nona to throw it away. I guess she did because I never saw it again.

“I wish she’d kept it in a drawer somewhere instead… because even though it was a reminder of the worst day of my life… it was the only thing I had besides pictures that was connected to my parents.”

My eyes were misting up, but I looked up at him and smiled as I held up my hand. “This… this will be a memory of the best day of my life.”

He stopped me again, but this time he was serious. He looped his strong arms around me and pulled me in close.

“I want it to be a memory of something else,” he said softly.

“What?”

“That I will always be there for you. I will never leave you… I will always protect you… and no matter what happens, no matter where you go, I will always come after you.”

Tears spilled down my cheeks – happy tears – and I smiled.

Then we kissed out there with the rain dripping down from the trees all around us.

Besides the moment he proposed to me…

It was the most romantic moment of my life.

70

Massimo

The walk back through the woods was long –

But it felt like a stroll through the park because we were both so happy.

I’d never seen Lucia so enraptured – so completely full of joy.

I was happy, too – but every time I looked at her face, it multiplied the happiness that was already inside me.

There were a few darker, more intrusive thoughts along the way –

Like, What will my brothers say when they find out?

But I dealt with those thoughts pretty easily.

Dario married a girl he kidnapped.

Adriano got engaged to a girl he knew for three days.

I’m a fuckin’ model of tradition next to the two of THEM.

It took about four hours to find a suitable cabin.

I even ended up carrying Lucia in my arms the last two miles because she was so worn out.

I didn’t care. I wasn’t carrying a hundred pounds of food since we’d be going back to town the next day… and she didn’t weigh much more than that.

Plus, she looped her arms around my neck and kissed me repeatedly.

I would have walked a thousand miles with her in my arms just for that.

She also held one of the umbrellas over us, so I got the best of both worlds – her in my arms, and I stayed relatively dry.

Finally we reached a cabin that was both deserted and in pretty good shape. I passed up a couple of others that might have been okay but which were pretty rundown. I didn’t want my new fiancée to have to stay in a dump the first night of our engagement.

The place was actually a palace compared to other places we’d slept.

For one thing, it had electricity – and a small portable heater that could be plugged into the wall to warm up a room. We stripped off our wet clothes, lay them over chairs, and pointed the heater at them.

For another, the cabin had hot running water. We took a luxurious shower together – and ended up having sex.

After five days of trudging through the cold and mud, the combination of sex and hot water at the same time was about the best thing imaginable.

Once we got out and dried off, we put on the second set of clothes I’d purchased in town. We would have gone naked, but the cabin was still cold – the tiny electric heater could only do so much.

Lucia’s new clothes were dry, at least. I only had a dry t-shirt and underwear, which rapidly became damp under my jeans. But it was still luxurious by the standards of what I had become used to over the last few days.

Lucia sighed in contentment as she put on her new, dry clothes.

“This is wonderful,” she sighed.

“It’s about to get more wonderful,” I said as I popped the cork on the bottle of champagne.

She screamed happily as the champagne foamed up and spilled out of the neck of the bottle.

I poured out two glasses – not champagne flutes, but regular drinking glasses – and we toasted each other.

“To my beautiful bride-to-be,” I said.

“To my wonderful husband-to-be,” she grinned.

We sipped the champagne, which was only slightly cool. The only chilling it had done was in my backpack on the walk here –

But it was the best wine I’d ever tasted.

We opened the tins of oysters and lobster and had ourselves a feast, followed by the tiramisu.

Life was absolutely beautiful.

Then it got even more beautiful. We started kissing and were about to head back to the bedroom –

When everything went to shit.

71

We were stumbling towards the bedroom, laughing and pulling at each other’s clothes –

When there was a distant crack and the crystalline sound of glass breaking.

I froze for a millisecond –

Then forced Lucia to the floor.

“Get down!” I whispered harshly.

She looked at me in terror as I dropped down beside her and pulled my Beretta from the back of my jeans. I’d learned my lesson since the barn and never went anywhere without a gun within reach.

I went down a mental checklist.

Like always, I’d barred the doors with pieces of furniture: a small table wedged against the back door and a heavy bureau against the front. It wouldn’t stop a determined person from getting in, but it would slow them down – and give me enough time to shoot them.

“Stay here,” I whispered to Lucia.

“Massimo – ”

“It’s gonna be alright,” I promised. “I just have to check it out.”

I crawled across the floor into the den and immediately saw what I was looking for.

A pane in one of the windows had been shot out. Broken glass littered the floor.

Idiot, I thought.

Whoever the shooter was, he’d given away the element of surprise.

It didn’t even seem like he’d been aiming at us when he fired.

For a second, I was worried that they would pitch a Molotov cocktail through the broken pane and try to burn us out –

But they didn’t need to break a window to do that. The entire fucking house was made of wood. All they had to do was throw the firebomb on the roof and let nature take its course.

My hunting rifle was propped up in the corner. I crawled over to it, grabbed it, and then checked to make sure the magazine had five bullets inside. I clacked the first round into the chamber, then held up the gun by the wooden stock and used the sight on the end of the barrel to turn off the switch on the wall.

The lights went off, and we were plunged into complete darkness – which was good. Now the shooter couldn’t see us.

Outside, it was extremely dark because the rain clouds were blocking out most of the moonlight. The shadows between the trees were black as India ink.

I was trying to determine my next move when a voice called out from the woods.

“Herr Rosolini! Can you hear me?”

I froze.

What the hell?

It was a man’s voice – not deep, but not too high.

The Herr part – pronounced like ‘hair’ in English – was German for ‘Mister,’ and the Italian words had a distinct German accent.

Maybe he was Swiss. Switzerland bordered Italy to the northwest, about 300 miles away from Padola. And Switzerland had four official languages – two of which were Italian and German.

But the really odd thing was that the speaker sounded… pleasant.

Chipper, even.

I looked over at Lucia lying in the doorway. Her bewildered expression mirrored my own thoughts:

What the fuck kind of assassin lets you know he’s THERE, then calls out like a friendly neighbor?!

Maybe not an assassin…

But a bounty hunter.

A very strange one.

“Herr Rosolini, I won’t hurt you or the Fräulein, I give you my word – but we really should speak,” the voice called out cheerfully. “Ja?”

Frow-line. German for a young unmarried woman.

Yah – German for ‘yes.’

“The fuck?!” Lucia whispered. “He sounds like Hans Landa!”

“Who?” I whispered back.

“The Nazi in Inglorious Basterds! The same guy was in Django Unchained!”

She meant the actor Christoph Waltz.

I had to admit, the two men did sound incredibly similar.

“Herr Rosoliniiiiiiiii…” the voice called out. “I know you can heeeaaaar meeeeeee…”

“Who are you?” I shouted from the floor.

“Ah – hello, there! Allow me to introduce myself!” he said as though he was addressing a local chapter of a men’s charity. “My name is Friedrich Zollner. Professionally I am known as der Jäger – the Hunter.”

He pronounced it ‘yay-ger,’ like the liqueur Jägermeister.

“Perhaps you have heard of me?” he called out hopefully.

“No.”

“…oh,” he said, sounding a bit crestfallen.

The strangeness of the situation was beyond absurd.

A man who called himself ‘the Hunter’ was tracking me, and he was disappointed that I didn’t know who he was.

But then he rebounded with renewed optimism in his voice. “Well, that is perhaps to be expected. I don’t really run in your circles, after all. In fact, this is the first time anyone from the Cosa Nostra has ever hired me. Normally I work with… well, for the sake of discretion, let us say ‘other parties’ and leave it at that.”

I tried to figure out who those ‘other parties’ might be.

There was no German equivalent of the mafia –

Perhaps the Russian Bratva?

Probably not. I doubted the Russians could stomach his cheerfulness.

The Swiss banking industry was known for its stiff formality – but they could be as ruthless as gangsters when someone crossed them.

“Who hired you?” I shouted. “Fausto?”

“No – actually, your cousin Aurelio. I don’t think he would mind you knowing that.”

Aurelio.

It lent credence to the theory that Aurelio had gone rogue and plotted the Venice caper himself.

Though surely Fausto would have intervened by now, three weeks after the fact…

Zollner continued. “I have no reason to harm you, as you can tell from my announcing my presence so dramatically by shooting out the – how do you say it – Fensterscheibe – ah, the pane of the window. You see, Aurelio is not paying me to kill you – not even to apprehend you. All he wants is Fräulein Fioretti.”

“Too bad,” I shouted.

He sighed theatrically. “Unfortunately, I thought you might say that. By the way, congratulations on your engagement!”

My guts twisted inside me.

“Yes, I had a nice little chat with the store owner after you left. He told me all about the giant man who proposed to the tiny little woman! Herzlichen Glückwunsch – my heartfelt congratulations, truly! But… considering the situation… could I suggest that you rethink your position on the matter? I really don’t want to hurt either of you, especially on such a blessed day – but I will… if forced.”

His voice took on a dark, menacing quality when he said if forced.

The contrast with his previous tone was chilling, even to me.

“I’ll kill you or any of your men who try to come in here,” I snarled.

“Oh, I’m quite alone, Herr Rosolini. After the rather ghastly scene you left behind, the local amateurs Aurelio hired staged something of a revolt. They refused to continue after you unless Aurelio quadrupled their pay. Your cousin decided, why pay amateurs a king’s ransom – when you can get the best in the world for half the total price, ja? The ‘best in the world’ being me, of course.” Zollner chuckled with false modesty. “By the way, I commend you on your brilliant dispatching of the two unfortunate men! From my analysis of the scene, it would appear that you killed one with the ax – and Fräulein Fioretti took out the other with the shotgun. Oh, I’m being so rude! Continually referring to you in the third person – are you there, Fräulein?”

“Yeah, I am,” Lucia shouted. “And you can go fuck yourself.”

“Hahaha – they told me you were a feisty one! I can see they were not wrong!”

“Come on in and find out how feisty I am, motherfucker!”

“Noooo, I think not. I am more than content to wait you out. You didn’t bring many provisions from town… and I know you have a rendezvous planned for 6 PM tomorrow, ja? Either you’ll make a break for it, or I’ll just starve you out. I have plenty of rations to keep up my strength… unlike you.”

My heart dropped.

Somehow he knew about my conversation with Niccolo. He’d probably bugged the goddamn phone –

“Yes, I installed a listening device in the phone booth,” Zollner said cheerfully, as though he’d read my thoughts. “I wasn’t hired until three days after you killed the men at the barn, so you had quite a substantial head start on me – and it was exceedingly difficult to track you. My compliments on your strategy, Massimo. May I call you Massimo? We’re being so formal. Feel free to call me Friedrich.”

I scrunched up my face in disbelief at how strange this guy was.

“You obviously learned from your mistakes,” he continued, “never staying more than one night in a single place… not using the fireplace… well done! That forced me to track you like I might any other wild game. It was quite entertaining, to tell the truth – but I realized you weren’t going to be able to survive forever on the supplies you were finding in these cabins. At some point, like a thirsty animal, you would be forced to leave cover and approach the pond for a drink. I would merely have to lie in wait for it to happen.

“All of this is a roundabout way of saying that I bugged the telephones and waited for you to show yourself in town… like an animal at the water’s edge, you might say… and from there, I tracked you to your new lair. And here we are.”

As ridiculous as Zollner was, I had to admit I was unnerved.

When a man shows you all his cards, he’s either supremely confident in his abilities to beat you no matter what…

Or there’s another card he’s not showing you.

Or maybe a pistol under the table he’s pointing at your balls.

“Now that I’ve found you, Massimo, I would like to make a proposition. You send out Fräulein Fioretti to me… I will escort her back to your cousin… and neither of you will be harmed.”

“No,” I said.

“I will be taking her one way or another, Massimo. I would prefer not to kill you when I do it.”

I would prefer not to kill you when I do it.

Again, that chilling slip of the cheerful mask revealing the sociopath underneath.

“No deal,” I called out.

“And you can go stick your offer up your ass,” Lucia yelled.

Zollner chuckled. “Stick my offer up my ass… well, I don’t think I’ll be doing that, but I will stay out here and let the two of you make the first move. If you change your mind, do let me know before the shooting starts. I am – unfortunately for you both – an excellent shot.

“Gute Nacht! I WOULD say schlafen Sie gut – sleep well – but I don’t think any of us will be sleeping tonight.”

After that, Zollner went silent…

And there was only the drip drip drip of the rain from the trees.

72

Lucia

I couldn’t believe my ears.

What a WEIRD motherfucker.

Every second I expected him to cackle like Hans Landa and say, Ooooh, that’s a bingo!

But when he finally stopped talking, the silence was even creepier.

I looked at Massimo and whispered, “What are we going to do?”

“Get the hell out of here,” he whispered back.

He reached up on a table and grabbed a knife – the one from the mercenary he’d killed in the speedboat in Venice. That had only been three and a half weeks ago, but it felt like a lifetime.

Then he began poking at the gaps between the floorboards, trying to lift them up. He finally gave up 30 minutes later when he pried up one of the floorboards and saw what was underneath.

“Fuckin’ concrete foundation,” he muttered. “I wish I’d picked a shittier cabin to stay in.”

I laughed.

He looked over at me in surprise. “What’s so funny?”

“Who would’ve thought we’d want the worst place possible to stay? And who could’ve guessed we’d get hunted by Elmer Fudd?”

Massimo frowned. “Elmer Fudd?”

“The little bald cartoon guy who hunts Bugs Bunny? ‘Be vewy, vewy quiet…’”

Massimo snorted with laughter, then shook his head. “This isn’t funny.”

“…it’s kind of funny.”

He gave me a sideways look, obviously recalling our discussion three weeks ago about my butt chin.

To his credit, though, he didn’t call me Chinderella.

“What do we do?” I asked.

“We figure out a way to get out of here.”

“Why can’t we just go out the front? I mean, he’s in the back, right?”

“A guy this smart wouldn’t leave something like that to chance. Like he said, he knows we’ll either try to wait him out or we’ll run for it.” Massimo stopped and thought for a second. “But if I distract him…”

“How?”

“I’ll shoot at him.”

“How’s that going to help us?”

“It’ll distract him while you escape.”

It took me a second to realize what he meant – and when I did, I shook my head violently. “NO. I’m not leaving you.”

“Babe – ”

“NO.”

“Lucia… if you get out of this while I keep him pinned down, you can get to town and call Niccolo. I’ll give you the number. Then you can hide out until Lars comes, and he can save me when he gets here.”

“What if Zollner just goes deeper into the woods so you can’t shoot him and then he circles around after me?”

“I’ll know if he does that, and then I can leave the cabin and go after him. At that point, you’ll have a big enough head start that it won’t matter. He won’t be able to catch up with you. Not if I’m coming after him, too.”

“What if he was lying about being the only one? What if there are others out there?”

Massimo got a pained look on his face. “That’s a possibility… and you’ll have to be prepared for it.”

“Prepared how?”

“The one thing they don’t want is to kill you. Which means they’ll be hesitant to shoot at you… but you can shoot at them.”

I got sick to my stomach as I thought about the man I’d killed in the barn.

Worse, I thought about the tailspin it had sent me into for the next several hours.

“I can’t… please don’t ask me to do that…”

“I wouldn’t if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

“But – ”

“Do you remember what I told you my job is?”

“…to keep me and our children safe.”

He nodded. “And do you remember what I said your job is?”

“…to keep the kids safe. But there aren’t any kids – it’s just you and me.”

He smiled as he gently placed a hand on my waist. “You don’t know that. You haven’t been on the pill for weeks now.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. “Stop – that’s not fair. You’re just trying to manipulate me – ”

“You’re right, I am. Because I would do anything to make sure you’re safe. I’d even try to manipulate you into saving yourself… and maybe our unborn child.”

I started to cry. “Isn’t there another way?”

“If you run for it, we have a chance. If you don’t, he’ll just do what he said and wait until we starve to death. If we go now, we have all our strength and energy. This is the best shot we have – right now.”

“Then come with me.”

“Somebody’s got to occupy him while you get away.” He smiled. “Who knows… maybe I’ll get lucky and shoot the bastard.”

“Please don’t make me do this,” I begged.

“This is the only way. At least, it’s the only way we’ve got.” He kissed me softly, then pulled back to look in my eyes. “Will you do it?… For me?”

I lay there looking at him, tears rolling down my cheeks… and finally nodded yes.

“Thank you,” he whispered gratefully, then kissed me again.

73

Massimo

The first part – convincing Lucia – was difficult. But I’d done it.

I truly believed the plan would work. I wouldn’t have gotten her to agree to it if I didn’t.

Maybe Niccolo could have come up with something better. But it was just me, and I did the best I could.

In my heart of hearts, I believed it was our best shot at getting her to safety.

As for me?

I didn’t give a fuck about me.

Whatever it took to keep her safe, I would do without question.

Having convinced Lucia, I set about the second part of the plan.

I needed a blind – something to conceal my movements from Zollner while I shot at him.

So I crawled into the bedroom, pulled the sheets off the bed, and crawled back into the den.

A row of French windows faced the forest. They started about a foot above the floor and reached almost to the ceiling.

It was one of those windows that Zollner had shot a pane out of earlier to get our attention.

Now it was my turn to get his attention.

I crawled into the kitchen… reached up and pulled out the drawer with all the cutlery… and then crawled back to the French windows.

I drove knives through the bedsheet into the walls, basically using them as pushpins. When I was finished, the cloth covered the bottom half of the windows.

Then I cut out a dozen small holes in the bedsheet – big enough for me to see through with my hunting rifle, and low enough that I could comfortably aim through them while lying on the floor.

The sheet was white, which wasn’t ideal – it would reflect any light from the moon behind the clouds.

But the cabin’s interior was completely dark, and the woods outside weren’t much better. Zollner would have an extremely difficult time seeing anything in the shadows.

He would be able to see the muzzle flash each time I fired – but that would only help him see where I’d fired from.

Which meant I would have to move immediately each time I fired.

If he was using a night-vision scope, hopefully the muzzle flash in the pitch black would overload the optics and blind the fuckin’ asshole.

“O-ho, creating a hunting blind, are we?” Zollner called out with a cheerful laugh. “The gazelle turns the hunter’s tactics back on himself! Very clever! I guess this means the shooting will commence shortly, ja?”

I didn’t answer him – but he continued to talk.

“I’ve thought about it some more. To forestall any bloodshed, I’ll sweeten the deal further. I’ll tell you where I will deliver Fräulein Fioretti once she is in my possession. That way, you can come after her and rescue her. I don’t care what you do after I’ve been paid. I am supposed to deliver her someplace very close to Venice itself. Die Insel der Toten – how do you say it – the Island of the Dead, ja?”

I looked over at Lucia. “What the hell?”

“He means the Isle of San Michele,” she whispered. “It’s an island cemetery for all of Venice. Nona’s palazzo is across the water from it.”

Zollner kept talking. “There is a church on the island. I will deliver the Fräulein to your cousin there, at which point I will be paid and leave. You see? I have told you everything! Give her to me, then follow on our heels and rescue her once I’m gone. I do not care as long as I get paid.”

“Why don’t I just pay you triple whatever Aurelio’s paying you, and then you go away?” I shouted.

Zollner chuckled. “Ah, if only I could… but my reputation would be ruined! I would never be hired for another job again! No, I really must insist that you hand over the Fräulein.”

“Then I really must insist you go to HELL.”

Zollner sighed theatrically. “Is that your final answer?”

When I didn’t reply, he said, “So läuft der Hase! In German, that means, ‘So runs the rabbit.’ It’s along the lines of, ‘That’s the way the cookie crumbles.’”

“God, he never shuts up,” Lucia whispered.

Once the blind was finished, Lucia and I crawled to the front room of the cabin. I unlocked a regular window and lifted up the sash so that Lucia could crawl outside.

I gave her the Glock and reminded her how to shoot – and how to eject the clip and reload if she ran out of shots. Then I had her put the extra magazines in her jacket pockets.

I gave her a handful of coins and some 100-euro bills for when she reached town, plus Niccolo’s telephone number on a piece of paper.

“Please don’t make me do this,” she whispered as tears welled up in her eyes.

“It’s going to be alright. Trust me. When you hear the first shot from my rifle, go through the window and run. Understand?”

“I hate you for this,” she said miserably.

I smiled. “Music to my ears.” Then I kissed her as we both lay there on the floor. “Good luck.”

I turned to go –

And she reached out, grabbed my face, and kissed me fiercely.

When it was over, I smiled one last time… then turned and crawled across the floor towards the French windows.

I got my hunting rifle off the floor. As I lay there on my belly, I placed the barrel through one of the holes in the sheet.

The first shot wouldn’t matter. I had no idea where Zollner was, so I had maybe a one-in-a-billion chance of hitting him.

So I just pulled the trigger.

BLAM!

Run, I thought silently to Lucia.

Then I scooted across the floor to avoid Zollner’s retaliatory fire and took up my next position.

74

Lucia

BLAM!

The gunshot startled me.

For a second, I froze.

I imagined the man in the barn as his face became a mask of blood –

And the man on the motorcycle as he aimed his pistol at me –

Then I moved.

I crawled out the window, jumped five feet to the ground, and ran.

It was so dark that it was hard to see – and the ground was so muddy that my feet slipped every few feet –

But I kept on running.

Behind me, more gunshots echoed through the forest.

Crack!

BLAM!

75

Massimo

Crack!

By the time Zollner fired, I was looking through another hole in my makeshift hunting blind.

I heard the tinkle of breaking glass somewhere above me –

But the yellow flare of his muzzle flash was like a beacon in the darkness.

I SEE you, motherfucker!

His first shot was oddly higher than it should have been, and wide of my original shooting position –

But maybe he figured I would move after every shot I took and was trying to anticipate where I would go.

Maybe he was shooting high as a warning. Maybe he wanted me to surrender.

Didn’t matter.

I yanked back on the bolt on my rifle, loaded the next round, and fired at where I’d seen the muzzle flash.

BLAM!

I scooted to the left and looked through another hole, hoping against hope that I might have tagged him –

When a new burst of light flared about a foot away from the original spot.

Crack!

I clenched my jaw.

So he’s doing what I’M doing: moving around.

I quickly reloaded, aimed, and fired again.

BLAM!

I scooted to the right this time and looked out of a hole in the sheet –

Crack!

Now he was firing from a third position!

This was going to be a pain in the ass.

Unfortunately, I only had a limited number of shots left – about 12 –

So I prayed to God for a HUGE favor as I fired into the darkness.

76

Lucia

Crack!

Blam!

Massimo’s gunshots were getting farther away as I ran farther from the house –

And then I tripped.

Something small and unforgiving caught my shin, and I toppled face-first to the ground.

I grunted and pushed up against the mud and wet pine needles so I was on my hands and knees.

When I looked back, I saw a thin line a foot above the ground.

A wire – ?!

Then I felt something step on the gun in my right hand, pinning it to the ground and crushing my finger in the trigger guard.

I looked up in panic to see a man towering above me.

He wore an alpine hat – the type with the side brims slightly folded up.

In his hands, he held a rifle with a huge scope.

I couldn’t make out much of his face in the shadows –

But I heard him as he whispered, “Shhhhh.”

So I screamed my head off.

“MASSIMO!”

“Fräulein,” the man sighed –

Then brought the butt of his rifle down on my face.

77

Massimo

BLAM!

Crack!

Zollner seemed to be rolling back and forth between three different spots.

Either that, or he had people with him who were taking shots, too.

But if that was the case, why didn’t they lay down a blanket of fire?

And why the hell didn’t they aim lower and actually try to hit me? All they did was fire a foot or two above my head.

And why the hell hadn’t I been able to hit anybody?!

Then I heard Lucia scream from somewhere in the woods.

“Massimo!”

I looked over my shoulder in terror.

Shit –

She was right; he DID have other men out there.

I cursed myself for having her take a chance –

And then I forced myself to slow down and think.

Alright – I’m just going to have to go out there and get her back.

Then another gunshot rang out.

Crack!

The window panes had long since been shot out, so the bullet only hit the wall instead.

I’ve gotta kill Zollner first, though.

I took my rifle with me and crawled out of the room on my belly.

Crack!

Another shot came through the French windows but hit the wall two feet above my head.

Rather than exit the same way Lucia did, I pushed aside the heavy bureau blocking the front door and went out that way.

No one was there.

I peered into the woods to see if I could catch a glimpse of Lucia, but it was nearly impossible to see anything in the darkness.

I wondered if I should just go directly after her scream –

Crack!

The gunshot echoed on the other side of the cabin.

No, I decided. I need to take care of Zollner first.

I set off into the woods to the left of the house. Then I circled around so I would come up on Zollner’s flank.

There were no more gunshots.

I crept quietly through the trees with my Beretta out. I moved through the woods from tree to tree, my heart thudding in my chest…

And finally reached the spot where I thought the gunshots had come from.

I steeled myself for the worst possible case – that Zollner was waiting for me – and held out my pistol as I leaned out from behind a tree.

What I saw confused me at first –

Then enraged me.

There were three rifles set up on three separate tripods.

They all had some sort of mechanical devices attached to their triggers – and all three devices were plugged into a cable that fed into a central metallic box.

I was guessing it was some sort of remote control device.

No one had been shooting at me at all.

Or rather, three remote-controlled machines had been shooting – which explained the awful aim.

But that probably meant that Zollner had –

“Lucia,” I whispered, then took off running for the woods on the other side of the house.

78

Lucia

The asshole must have knocked me out.

When I came to, my face hurt – and so did my hands. They were stretched over my head, my wrists were bound, and I was being pulled along by them. My feet and legs were cutting a trough through the mud as Zollner dragged me behind him.

I tried to scream for Massimo –

But something was in my mouth. Some kind of gag.

I tried to kick my feet –

But my ankles were bound, too.

Suddenly we stopped. Zollner let go of my hands, and I collapsed onto the muddy ground.

Above me loomed a bumper; to my right was a tire.

Zollner opened up the rear hatchback of the vehicle. “This would have been so much easier if you’d just cooperated.”

Then he reached down towards me.

I turned on my side and tried to squirm under the car, but Zollner yanked me back and hoisted me onto my feet.

“Into the back you go,” he said in his cheerful voice.

BANG!

I jerked in fear – and Zollner flinched behind me at the same time.

In the silence that followed, we could both hear a hissing sound:

fsssssssssss

Then a second shot – BANG!

fsssssssssss

“Scheisse…” the weirdo muttered behind me.

“ZOLLNER!” Massimo roared from the darkness.

My heart soared!

Then my stomach lurched as Zollner wrapped his arm around my neck and placed the cold muzzle of his pistol against my head.

“You should have waited to kill me once I had her in the Range Rover, Herr Rosolini,” Zollner said cheerfully. “Shooting out my tires will merely prolong the ordeal.”

“LET HER GO!”

“Mmmm… I think not.”

Zollner dragged me with him, keeping my body in front of him.

I tried wriggling out of his grasp –

“Ah, ah, ah,” he whispered as he pressed the muzzle harder into my skin. “Be still, Fräulein. We wouldn’t want my gun to go off, now would we?”

Zollner kept dragging me along as a human shield.

In front of me, I could see the Range Rover…

And in the distance roared a river, its waters swollen with all the extra rainfall.

Zollner pulled me across a dirt road – now a mud road – and back into the forest.

A shadow ran out of the trees across the road and took cover behind the Range Rover. “Let her go, Zollner!”

“Why don’t you come out so we can talk, Herr Rosolini?”

“I thought you were calling me ‘Massimo.’”

“Well, you refuse to call me anything but ‘Zollner,’ so I assume we aren’t quite at that level of friendship yet.”

“Let her go and we can be friends. Plus I’ll pay you ten times what Aurelio’s paying you.”

“O-ho – the amount has gone up!”

“It has.”

“The offer is appreciated – but I already told you: if word gets out that I can be bought off, no one will ever hire me again.”

“I’ll never tell.”

“But Aurelio surely will – make no mistake of that. IF he doesn’t kill me outright.”

“We can keep this between you, me, and Lucia. We’re leaving tomorrow – you can just let us go.”

From the nearness of his voice, I assumed Massimo had followed us into the woods.

“And ruin my reputation? Tsk, tsk, tsk. I think not. That would be professional suicide, as well.”

As Zollner kept dragging me, the river got louder and louder behind us.

“Then name your price,” Massimo yelled.

“Alright… one beeeellion dollars!”

I swear the motherfucker said it exactly like Dr. Evil in Austin Powers.

Then Zollner burst out laughing. “Do you like my impression? I would do the pinkie at the corner of my mouth, but I must keep the gun at your fiancée’s temple.”

Let me tell you, being dragged through the mud with a gun at your head is no picnic.

But being dragged through the mud with a gun at your head by a certifiable whack job is something else entirely.

“I’m losing patience, Zollner!” Massimo roared.

“Then come out and let me shoot you!” Zollner called out cheerfully.

A second later, I heard a car door opening.

My heart leapt with hope. I thought for sure that Massimo would try to start the engine – after all, he’d hotwired the car in Treporti –

Although I had no idea what he would do once he got it started.

“I have the keys, Herr Rosolini,” Zollner shouted. “Even if you could start the engine, the Fräulein and I are already deep within the trees. There’s no way you can reach us.”

The car’s engine roared to life.

He DID hotwire it!

Zollner sighed in exasperation. “I told you, the trees are too crowded here – you can’t possibly expect to come get us!”

Massimo gunned the Range Rover’s engine.

Its tires spun in the mud – and then it got traction.

It turned hard right across the muddy road, its two flat tires going flap flap flap.

Once it was pointed directly at us, its headlights came on in a blinding burst of light –

Pointed right at us.

“Oh… well, that’s inconvenient…” Zollner grumbled as he continued dragging me towards the river.

79

Massimo

I steered the Range Rover towards Zollner and Lucia.

Zollner was right: there was no way I could get the Range Rover through those trees – But I could see what the hell he was doing.

I flicked on the headlights –

There he was, up ahead, about 60 feet into the forest.

He was dragging Lucia along behind him, using her as a human shield –

And he had a gun to her head, just as he’d claimed.

My blood boiled.

I wished I had Lars’s talent with a rifle so I could shoot Zollner between the eyes.

But I wasn’t as good as Lars – so whatever happened, it was going to happen at close range.

I have to say, Zollner’s appearance surprised me.

He was fairly short. I knew he was squatting down to keep behind Lucia, but he didn’t appear much taller than 5’5”.

He wore a brown hunting jacket, brown pants, and a dark green Swiss alpine hat with a ridiculous little feather stuck in the band.

His face was clean-shaven. More than that, I couldn’t make out.

I got out of the Range Rover, ran across the muddy road, and darted behind a tree. Right now, Zollner couldn’t see me – he was probably blinded by the headlights. But as soon as I got in front of the headlights, I would turn into a silhouette… and a target. So it was imperative I use the trees as cover.

The river raged nearby, triple its usual size with all the rain from the last six days.

“Don’t follow me, Herr Rosolini,” Zollner called out through the forest. “I can guarantee it won’t end well for you.”

“Thanks, I’ll take it under consideration,” I shouted as I darted from tree to tree.

“This really is the final time I’ll warn you. After this, the consequences will be on your head.”

“Got it.”

There were a couple of seconds of silence. Then Zollner shouted, “Have you ever heard of the zattere and the zattieri?”

‘Zattere’ meant rafts. ‘Zattieri’ meant raft drivers.

What’s this fucking psychopath talking about?

“No,” I shouted as I darted behind another tree. “Why don’t you enlighten me.”

I figured if Zollner was talking, the less attention he would be paying to what he was doing. Maybe he would slip up and I could shoot him without endangering Lucia.

“Back in the Middle Ages, Venice needed wood desperately for their vast fleet of merchant ships,” Zollner called out. “However, there are no trees in Venice, and they had deforested the banks of the Venetian lagoon in the previous centuries. So the city purchased a large section of the very region we stand in, solely for the timber. But the problem was, how to get all those trees nearly 100 miles to their destination?

“The solution was quite ingenious. An entire industry sprang up where they would cut down trees, then fashion them into rafts and float them downstream all the way to the Venetian lagoon. Once in the larger body of water, the zattieri would steer their craft towards the city. Once they reached their destination, the rafts would be disassembled, and the wood was used for building ships that would sail around the globe.

“Not only that, but the rafts could also be loaded with provisions from the mountain regions! So not only did the Venetians get the wood, they also got metal, cloth, cheese, all sorts of meat and fruits… a splendid assortment of supplies.

“The problem was, you needed an enormous amount of water to float the logs from Padola to the town of Perarola, where the rafts were constructed. Far more water than was normally in the rivers. So the town of Padola built stua, or artificial damns… like the one behind me.”

Shit.

Through the trees, I saw what Zollner was talking about. A stone dam stretched across the river with a covered walkway on top. The dam itself was about 40 feet tall and 100 feet wide. A 20-foot-wide sluice gate at the bottom of the stua was open, letting through a huge amount of raging water.

I was guessing, though, that there was a lot more water backed up on the other side.

Zollner left the trees and started to drag Lucia across the wooden walkway atop the dam.

“They would store up months’ worth of water behind the stua, you see, while they cut the logs.” Zollner had to shout to be heard over the rushing waters beneath him. “Then they would release all that water in one gigantic burst, lifting up all the logs and floating them 50 miles downstream. Once the timber reached Perarola, the zattieri would construct the rafts, which would then be washed another 50 miles down to the lagoon, where they would wind up at their final destination – Venice. Isn’t history fascinating?!”

“Fascinating,” I shouted. Anything to occupy the madman.

Zollner got all the way across the stua’s covered walkway and onto the opposite bank of the river with Lucia.

A few seconds later, I emerged from the trees.

I could see I’d been correct: the water level on the left side of the dam was significantly higher than the fast-moving stream on the right.

As soon as I reached the edge of the walkway, Zollner pulled his pistol away from Lucia’s head.

I crouched behind a wooden column just in time.

BLAM!

The shot blasted splinters out of the wood.

“Don’t come any closer, Herr Rosolini,” Zollner yelled as he dragged Lucia farther back amongst the trees. “This is your final warning.”

I ignored him. I ducked around the column he’d shot and took cover behind the next post.

If Zollner shot at me enough times, he would eventually have to reload –

And I could rush him and tackle him to the ground.

I just had to get close enough.

Zollner pulled something out of his jacket pocket. I took the opportunity to dash 20 feet across the walkway and took cover behind another wooden column.

“You might be wondering why I told you all that about the stua and the zattere,” Zollner shouted.

Because you’re crazy, I thought, even though I said nothing.

“It was because I researched the region when I was hired, Herr Rosolini. I always research the habitat of my prey.

“Not only that, I scoped out this entire area before I came to your cabin. You see, I never leave things to chance… which is why I planted explosives at the base of the stua.”

I froze.

I was already halfway across the dam.

He’s bluffing…

“I told you before that if you chose to follow me, the consequences would be on your head,” Zollner said in a sad voice.

Then he held up the object he’d pulled from his jacket.

“Auf wiedersehen, Herr Rosolini,” he called, and pushed a button on the device.

BOOM!

A massive explosion split the air.

Vibrations like an earthquake shook the dam beneath me.

Oh shit –

He WASN’T bluffing.

80

Lucia

A yellow fireball exploded from the base of the dam Zollner had just dragged me across –

Which Massimo was currently on top of.

I felt the shockwave against my face –

And the entire structure began to shift and sag.

Giant cracks appeared, and even more water began to burst through the dam.

I screamed in panic – but because of the gag in my mouth, I could barely hear myself over the roar of crumbling stone and rushing water.

My eyes were on Massimo, who stood up on the wooden railing of the walkway –

And leaped into the raging river 30 feet below him.

He jumped outwards into the churning waters as far from the crumbling structure as possible.

He cleared the rubble as the dam collapsed in on itself –

But he was immediately swallowed by the river.

I strained my eyes to find him in the darkness –

But I couldn’t see a hint of him.

I screamed in horror behind my gag.

Zollner sighed behind me.

“What a waste,” he said. Then he asked, “Will you walk, or must I pull you again?”

All I could do was scream…

So he yanked my arms over my head and began to drag me through the mud.

81

I couldn’t keep the horrible images from flooding my mind.

My mother and father in the front seat of the car, jerking as the assassin’s bullets struck them –

The man in the barn, his face erupting in blood as I fired the shotgun –

Massimo disappearing beneath the churning surface of the river.

The horror wouldn’t stop.

Neither would the pain. Zollner nearly dislocated my shoulders as he dragged me along.

After what seemed like an eternity, we reached a small cabin with a car parked next to it. He pulled me onto the wooden porch and left me lying there as he banged on the door with his fist.

“Help us – mein Gott, please, help us!” he cried in a panicked voice.

I didn’t understand at first what he was doing –

But as soon as I did, I stared up at him in terror.

“We need your help – a girl is hurt out here!” Zollner continued to shout as he banged on the door.

A light turned on above us, and the door opened the tiniest bit.

A middle-aged man peeked out and saw me lying on the ground. His eyes widened in shock.

I must have been a sight – my entire body covered in mud, my hair wet and stringy.

As soon as I saw the man, I screamed behind my gag and violently shook my head NO!

“Oh, thank God,” Zollner said, relief flooding his voice. “My daughter is terribly injured – can we borrow your car?”

“What’s wrong with her?” the man asked as he opened the door to peer down at me. “Is – is there something in her mouth?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, there is,” Zollner said pleasantly, then raised his gun and shot the man in the head.

BANG!

I screamed and cried as the man collapsed next to me.

Zollner stepped over the body and called out, “Is there anyone else in here?”

There was a woman’s voice – “What was that noise?! Who are – NO! – ”

BANG!

Then her voice stopped, too.

I sobbed as I lay there on the porch.

A minute later, Zollner came out jingling a pair of car keys between his fingers.

“Yaaaay!” he said excitedly, like a child who had just found a prize. “Now – will you walk to the car, or must I drag you?”

All I could do was stare into the dead man’s eyes.

When I didn’t answer, Zollner sighed theatrically.

“You really could make this so much easier on yourself,” he said as he dragged me off the porch and towards the car.

Please, God, I prayed through my tears. Please let Massimo be okay.

82

Massimo

I jumped off the dam rather than dove because I figured it would be better to break my legs than my neck.

I needn’t have worried – the water was deep enough.

That was the one piece of luck in my favor.

Seconds after I jumped, I plunged into hell.

Not a fiery abyss, but chaos and cold.

Ice water swallowed me whole.

Everything was black, and a deafening roar filled my ears.

I whipped around like a monster had me in its jaws.

I covered my head with my arms to protect my brain –

But the rest of my body slammed into outcroppings and boulders.

I held my breath for as long as possible – maybe two minutes, though it felt like an eternity – but I finally broke through the surface to try to get some air.

I ended up with a mouthful of water and got plunged back under.

I was sure I was going to die –

I saw Lucia’s face in front of me in the darkness –

And then I slipped into a slower part of the maelstrom.

I raised my head above water to catch a breath –

And I saw my salvation.

A freshly downed fir tree was drooping over the water 50 feet away.

I kicked with all my might until I was underneath it and managed to snag a branch.

Water roared all around me and dunked me under –

But I was able to grab another branch, then another.

Bit by bit, I pulled myself towards land…

Until I heaved myself onto the muddy shore and collapsed.

I lay there for nearly 10 minutes – battered, exhausted, and chilled to the bone.

But I thought of Lucia…

And how she needed me…

And I shakily pulled myself to my feet.

I looked back up the river from where I had come.

It was impossible to see the dam or what was left of it –

But I estimated I’d been carried half a mile downstream. Probably more.

I had three big problems.

One: Zollner and Lucia were on the other side of the river. No bridges were in sight, so there was no way to get across the churning waters without almost certainly dying.

Two: I was wet and freezing, and the cold night air was only making it worse. I had to find shelter and get warm or I would succumb to hypothermia.

Three: even if I could get across the river, it would take forever to catch up to Zollner. My guess was that he was going to steal a car and get the hell out of Padola.

As though to confirm my suspicions, I heard a distant gunshot on the other side of the river.

Crack!

My heart stopped in my chest as I pictured Lucia getting shot –

But I knew that Zollner wouldn’t do that. He wanted to deliver her safely to Aurelio.

The gunshot had probably been for some unfortunate soul who stood in the way of Zollner’s escape.

The one thing I had going for me (other than being alive) was that I knew where Zollner was taking her: the cemetery island of San Michele.

It was obviously a trap. Zollner would never have revealed that information unless Aurelio wanted me to show up.

But at least I knew where Lucia would be in just a matter of hours…

So I knew where to go.

I limped away from the muddy riverbank, intent on finding someplace to warm up…

After which, I would go save Lucia and get my revenge.

As I stumbled through the darkness, I imagined her smiling face…

And all the horrors I would inflict on Zollner for taking her.

83

I got lucky. The first cabin I stumbled across was uninhabited.

Even luckier: once I broke in, I discovered it had hot water.

I stripped off my sopping wet clothes and stood under the shower until my body warmed up. Once I felt halfway human again, I dried off and searched the cabin for clothing that might fit me.

I wasn’t that lucky, unfortunately. Everything I found seemed designed for doll-sized people.

So I drenched my clothes in hot water, then wrung them out as much as possible before I put them back on. Everything felt cold again within minutes, but I had no choice unless I wanted to go naked.

Once dressed, I walked outside and started limping down the muddy road towards town. The one thing I took from the cabin was a poncho I’d found. At least it kept the drizzling rain from soaking me to the bone again.

I thought about trying to find the property where Lucia and I had killed Aurelio’s men. The cabin would have my cell phone and all the dry clothes I’d left behind – if the police hadn’t found the two dead bodies and confiscated everything as evidence.

However, if I went back to my cabin – the place where Lucia and I had spent the first night – I could retrieve the car I’d stolen from Treporti. And I had plenty of dry clothes at my place, too.

But considering I had no idea where I was at the moment, looking for either of those places would have been like searching for a needle in a haystack.

At least if I kept going down this road, I knew I would eventually reach Padola.

Which I did. After two hours of stumbling along in the dark and nearly freezing to death again, I finally reached town.

It was dark – probably about 2 or 3 in the morning – and nothing was open.

So I went to the phone booth I’d originally called Niccolo from.

I knew it was bugged, but I didn’t give a shit.

In fact, I wanted Zollner to overhear the conversation.

I wanted Aurelio to know I was coming for him.

I still had some change in my pocket, along with a wad of soaking-wet bills, so I dropped some coins into the phone and dialed.

The phone rang five times before Niccolo answered. His voice was a mixture of sleepiness and alarm.

“What’s wrong?”

“Aurelio sent a professional. He got Lucia.”

“Shit. Are you alright?”

“I’m alive.”

“Are you injured?”

“Banged up a bit, but I’ll be fine.”

“Lars isn’t here yet – he’s arriving in another four or five hours – ”

“I know. I want you to let him know he shouldn’t come to Padola. He should meet me somewhere else.”

“Where?”

“I’ll call from the road and let you know. This phone is bugged.”

There was a pause on the other end.

“Then what the hell are you doing CALLING from it, then?!”

“I want Zollner to know that I’m going to fuckin’ kill him,” I snarled. “Do you hear that, Friedrich? You’re going to die a very slow and painful death.”

Niccolo sounded confused. “Let me get this straight – right now, you’re basically sending a MESSAGE to the man who took Lucia.”

“Correct.”

“‘A slow and painful death’ – that’s making it personal.”

“It is what it is.”

“In fact, it’s VERY personal, considering you were just supposed to be Lucia’s bodyguard.” When I didn’t answer, Niccolo groaned. “TELL me you didn’t sleep with her.”

“I could, but I’d be lying.”

“You fucking IDIOT – the Widow will – ”

“It’s not like that,” I interrupted.

“Then what is it LIKE, exactly?!”

“I asked her to marry me.”

Another long pause.

“Every time you speak, I don’t think you can shock me again – and then you go and prove me wrong. You PROPOSED to her?!”

“And she said ‘yes.’”

“Jesus – Massimo – ”

“Don’t start. You can chew me out later when she’s safe.”

“Why are you telling me this over a recorded line?! He’ll have that much more leverage over you – ”

“Zollner already knows. He knew before he came after us.”

Niccolo groaned again. “Wonderful. So tell me, how the fuck are we supposed to save your new fiancée?”

“Zollner is taking her to San Michele, the cemetery island near Venice. That’s where he’s going to turn Lucia over to Aurelio.”

“How do you know all that?”

“Zollner told me.”

“He TOLD you?!”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s quite obviously – ”

“A trap.”

“He’s using her as bait – ”

“Because he knows I’ll come after her.”

“Not only THAT, but he wants you to bring us so he can kill all of us at once!”

“I know.”

“And you want to, what – just walk right into the trap he’s set?!”

“If it’s the only way I can save Lucia, then yeah, I’m going to walk right into it,” I said grimly. “I’ll do it alone if I have to.”

“For God’s sake, don’t do THAT. Just… call me when you’re on the road so I can tell Lars where to meet you. I’ll wake Dario and Adriano, and we’ll put together a plan.”

“Alright.”

“…Massimo?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re alright.”

“I’m alive,” I said. “I won’t be alright until she’s safe.”

84

Lucia

I lay in the trunk of the car as it rattled down the road. I was cold, covered in mud, and my wrists and ankles were still zip-tied. It was pitch black all around me.

But I didn’t give a shit about any of that.

I wanted to die.

All I could think of was Massimo jumping into the raging river and not coming up again.

I kept switching back and forth between that last memory of him…

And the image of my parents, their bodies slumped forward in the car.

My heart hurt so much that I just wanted it to be over.

I wanted to leave and go join them.

I touched my ring in the darkness and smiled despite my grief.

After I took my last breath, Massimo would be there waiting for me…

And then he could take me to my parents.

That’s all I wanted.

The car slowed down and parked on the side of the road. The engine kept running, but I heard a car door open.

I wondered if Zollner had changed his mind and was planning to kill me.

If so, I wouldn’t mind. I wouldn’t even put up a fight.

He popped the trunk and grinned down at me in the dim glow of the trunk’s tiny light bulb. He wasn’t wearing his stupid hat anymore, and I could see his close-cropped hair.

“Good news, Fräulein!” he said, holding up his cell phone and tapping the screen.

Two voices began talking on a recording…

And my heart leaped into my throat as I recognized one of them.

“What’s wrong?”

“Aurelio sent a professional. He got Lucia.”

“Shit. Are you alright?”

“I’m alive.”

“Are you injured?”

“Banged up a bit, but I’ll be fine.”

I tried to sit up – and immediately bumped my head against the inside of the trunk.

It hurt, but I didn’t care.

“HE’S ALIVE?!”

“It would seem so,” Zollner said giddily as he tapped the screen to make the recording stop.

His delight at the situation made me wary. “Why are you so happy?”

“Because we are back on track. Massimo’s apparent death was, how do you say it – a bit of an inconvenience, ja? But now everything is good.”

“He’s going to come find you – and he’s going to kill you.”

Zollner just grinned. “He’s more than welcome to try.”

He slammed the trunk, plunging me back into darkness – but I couldn’t have cared less.

For the first time in hours, I had two things back:

My will to live…

And hope.

I touched my ring and cried with happiness.

He’s coming for me.

85

Massimo

After I made the phone call to Niccolo, I weighed my options.

I could break into the clothing shop and steal some dry clothes…

But there might be an alarm. The police would come, and I would be screwed.

Or I could wait here in town for the shops to open. That was a possibility, but it would take hours.

I could steal a car… but the last thing I needed was for it to be reported as stolen. The cops might stop me on my way back to Venice.

So I decided to go back to my own cabin.

I went to the end of town, turned down a familiar road, and started walking.

Two hours later, I saw the windowless car still parked outside my cabin.

I sighed in relief. No one had found it yet.

I checked inside the broken window. The driver’s seat was sopping wet from all the rain over the last week, but I didn’t care – I only needed it for one last trip.

I walked over to the porch, found the hidden key above the door –

But before I unlocked it, I tried the doorknob.

It opened.

Someone had been here since I’d left.

I considered for a moment whether it might be boobytrapped…

But that made no sense. Zollner wanted me in San Michele; he had no reason to rig my place with explosives.

I opened the door all the way and turned on the lights…

And was hit with a flood of memories.

Since it had been our first 24 hours together, a lot of those memories were filled with arguments… but I still treasured every single one of them.

Most of all, I remembered how we had eaten breakfast at the counter…

How I’d seen her naked for the first time in the bedroom…

All the sexual tension between us…

And the way her eyes had lit up with joy when she’d seen the woods in the morning.

I pulled myself out of my reverie and began to look around.

It was obvious that someone had been there. There were things slightly out of place. Cupboard doors were open that I knew I’d left closed.

It didn’t matter. I wouldn’t be here long.

I went into the bedroom. The air still smelled the faintest bit like her perfume.

My heart ached… and then I grew angry.

I’m going to get her back… and God help any motherfucker who gets in my way.

I quickly stripped down, dried off with a towel, and put on the suit I’d arrived in.

There weren’t any weapons left in the house, but that didn’t matter; Lars would bring everything we’d need.

I grabbed a couple of dry towels, took them out to the car, and laid them over the driver’s seat.

Then I reached under the dash, fiddled with the wires, and started the engine.

I put the car in reverse. I was afraid the wheels would get stuck in the mud, but I was able to turn it around and get moving down the road.

Hang on, baby.

I’m coming.

86

Lucia

Several hours later, the car stopped and the engine shut off.

When Zollner opened the trunk, I blinked against the light of dawn behind him.

Around him stood several guys in dark suits – men I didn’t know but who were indistinguishable from the ones who worked for Nona.

Mafia thugs.

“Jesus,” one of them muttered when he saw me. “What did you do, drag her through the mud?”

“Actually, yes,” Zollner said with a big smile as he pulled me out of the trunk and set me on my feet.

“She’s got a black eye.”

He must have meant where Zollner had socked me with the butt of his rifle.

“You’re very observant,” Zollner said pleasantly, without a trace of sarcasm – which made his reply all the more sarcastic.

“Aurelio’s not gonna be happy about that.”

“Then he’s free to take it up with me, gentlemen. As long as he pays me.”

We were near a boat dock on a deserted shore of the Venetian lagoon. I could see the outline of the city in the distance.

I assumed the speed boat tied to the pier was how we would get to our destination.

“You gonna cut my feet loose, or you want me to hop over there?” I asked sardonically.

Zollner looked at me sideways and waggled a finger at me like I was a naughty child. “Don’t try anything, Fräulein. I would hate to give you another black eye.”

He knelt down behind me and used a knife to cut the zip ties around my ankles.

I thought about kicking him… but decided I wanted to be in good shape when Massimo got there in case we needed to run for it. And having both of my eyes swollen shut wouldn’t help.

“Let’s go,” Zollner said as he gently pushed me towards the dock.

We got into the speedboat with him holding onto my arm. The mafia goons followed, and soon we were racing across the lagoon.

As we circled around the larger island of Murano, the much smaller island of San Michele came into view. It was only 1200 feet from the northwestern shore of Venice – and around half a mile from my grandmother’s palazzo, which was slightly farther south.

I wondered if that was why Aurelio had chosen it. If Nona didn’t agree to his demands, maybe he planned to make her watch through binoculars as he executed me.

Just wait till Massimo gets here, assholes.

The island was basically one giant graveyard, although it had some nice gardens, too. The most striking building on San Michele was the church that the island was named after. It had a 130-foot-tall bell tower and a white-domed façade. While they paled next to Venice’s more impressive cathedrals and palazzos, both the bell tower and white dome were still pretty iconic.

Somebody else on the boat had obviously been reading up on the topic.

“Did you know,” Zollner said excitedly, “that the island – named for Saint Michael the archangel – was originally two smaller islands. They were connected in the early 1800s when the channel between them was filled in.”

“Is that so,” I muttered.

“Ja! Neither of the islands was used as a cemetery until 1804, when Napoleon Bonaparte – who conquered Venice in 1797 – decreed that all corpses should be buried outside Venice for the sake of hygiene.”

“Fascinating.”

Zollner didn’t seem to catch my sarcasm. Either that, or he didn’t care. “What is even more fascinating is that in the decades after it became a cemetery, seawater would erode the island from underneath. Coffins would be sucked underground and out into the bay, where they would float in the water until they could be retrieved and reburied!”

I stared at him. “You’re a weird motherfucker. Do you know that?”

“I’m merely passionate about the things that interest me, Fräulein.”

“Like killing people?”

“Hunting them, mostly.” He looked me in the eye and smiled. “But killing them is fun, too – especially when I’m paid to do it.”

A shiver of dread went down my spine, and I had to look away.

The speedboat pulled up to the dock outside the white-domed façade of San Michele. Two mafia thugs helped me onto dry ground, after which Zollner marched me through a walled courtyard into the church.

We entered the sanctuary – but I could hear two voices arguing before we even got there.

“This is intolerable!” an older man raged.

A younger, colder voice replied, “You need to do what I tell you to do, Father, or you’re not going to like the consequences.”

…Father?

As we rounded a corner, I saw what was going on.

A man wearing an expensive suit was arguing with a priest.

The guy in the suit was tall, though not as tall as Massimo. And he was nowhere near as built.

He was handsome… but his face was cruel and arrogant.

I was guessing this was Aurelio, Massimo’s cousin – and the asshole behind everything that had happened over the last three weeks.

All around him were other mafia thugs in black suits.

The priest was middle-aged. He wore glasses, and his face was red with indignation.

Five nuns cowered in a group 15 feet away.

“You can’t just shut off the island to incoming traffic!” the priest raged.

“It’s a cemetery, not a tourist attraction,” Aurelio said in a bored voice. “Call whoever you need to – just make sure the water buses don’t stop here.”

“And give them what reason?!”

“Tell them everybody has Covid. Tell them there’s a fucking cholera outbreak. I don’t give a shit – just keep all traffic away from the island.”

“Why?!”

I could tell Aurelio was losing patience. “Because I told you to, that’s why.”

“You Cosa Nostra thugs don’t scare me!”

Aurelio smiled. His psychopathic stare chilled me to the bone. “I’m not the kind of Cosa Nostra ‘thug’ you’re accustomed to, Father.”

“I don’t care!” The older man looked away from Aurelio and started shouting at the other mafia goons. “I’m not going to let you desecrate this holy place with whatever evil plans you – ”

As the priest continued to yell, Aurelio casually pulled out a pistol and shot him in the head.

I flinched in horror and all the nuns screamed.

The priest collapsed. He was dead before he hit the ground.

“Too late. Already desecrated,” Aurelio joked. Then he looked over at the nuns. “Somebody needs to make that phone call and shut off all traffic to the island. Who’s going to volunteer?”

The oldest nun in the group raised a trembling hand.

“Good,” Aurelio said, then looked at several of his men. “Take her wherever she needs to go – and make sure she doesn’t double-cross us.” Aurelio turned back to the nun and stared her down. “If you try to tell anyone about what’s going on, I will torture and kill the rest of these women… I’ll make you watch… and then I’ll do the same to you. Do you understand?”

The nun whimpered and nodded.

“Good.” Aurelio gestured with his hand like he was bored. “Lock up the rest of them so they can’t get in our way.”

One mafia thug pulled away the oldest nun and two more goons herded the other women away.

“Somebody find a place to stick this asshole,” Aurelio said as he looked down at the dead priest. Then he smiled darkly. “Shouldn’t be too hard. I mean, it is a fuckin’ cemetery.”

The goons laughed. Two dragged the priest away by his feet, leaving a bloody trail across the tiled floor.

“Herr Rosolini,” Zollner said cheerfully.

Aurelio turned around. “Oh, you’re here. Finally.” Then he turned to me, and his nose wrinkled in distaste. “What the fuck did you do, throw her in a pig sty?”

“You paid me to retrieve her – not have her perfectly groomed.”

“Maybe I should’ve kicked in a little extra, then, so she didn’t show up looking like a sewer rat.”

Aurelio walked over and put one finger under my chin.

I immediately jerked away from him.

“Easy, princess. Just checking to make sure the merchandise is in order so your grandma doesn’t throw a fit.”

“Fuck you,” I snarled.

“Careful, or I’ll take you up on that. Jesus, Zollner – did you have to fuckin’ hit her in the face?”

“She was being difficult,” the Swiss hunter explained without a hint of remorse.

“Next time, hit her somewhere the bruises won’t show.” Aurelio snapped his fingers and pointed at two of his men. “Take her to the nun’s quarters – or the priest’s, or wherever – and have her shower up. I don’t want her looking like shit when the Widow gets here.”

I felt the blood drain out of my face. “My grandmother’s coming here?”

Aurelio smiled coldly. “If she wants to keep you alive.”

My skin crawled as he said it.

“By the way,” Zollner piped up, “Massimo is still alive… and what’s more, he and the Fräulein are engaged!”

Aurelio stared at Zollner –

Then looked at me and burst out laughing. “Oh my god – this is too good to be true.”

Zollner smiled. “I thought you might be pleased.”

I glared at Aurelio. “Massimo’s coming for me.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”

“And when he does, you’re fucked.”

Aurelio gave me a vicious smile. “You know, the two of you getting hitched would make you my cousin by marriage. That is… IF it actually happened. Too bad your fiancé’s not going to make it to the wedding.”

Then his smile disappeared and he motioned with his hand. “Take her away.”

87

Massimo

I pulled off the road an hour after I left Padola and called from a gas station.

Lars had gotten home by then. Niccolo had apparently briefed him because he had a warning for me.

“I looked at a map of the island on the internet, and it’s not good. They’re going to be in the church – which means not only do we have to invade a fortress, but they’re going to have the high ground with the bell tower. If they have a good sniper, they can pick us off as we approach.”

“If Zollner stays after he delivers Lucia, they’re probably going to have an excellent sniper.”

“Great,” Lars said with a sigh. “This is going to be like storming the beaches at Normandy.”

“Yeah, but the Allies won on D-Day.”

“Yes… at the cost of 4400 men.”

“Cheer up,” I said with gallows humor. “We don’t have 4400 men, so it won’t be nearly that bad.”

Lars laughed bitterly, then took down my instructions for where to meet me.

As I got back in the car and started to drive again, I thought about what Lars had said.

If they have a good sniper, they can pick us off as we approach.

I had no doubt that Zollner was a good shot. The only reason he hadn’t killed me back in the woods was because he wanted me to bring my brothers to the slaughter.

This time, Zollner would be trying to kill me.

How could I possibly reach Lucia before I got shot?

As I pondered that question, the driver’s side door started rattling from the wind rushing over it.

I figured I must not have closed it properly, so I opened it up to slam it shut again –

And the instant I did, I got a burst of inspiration.

I immediately turned the car around, went back to the pay phone, and called Lars.

“Did something happen?” he asked in concern.

“Yeah. I got an idea.”

After I told him what I was thinking, he said, “That’s insane.”

Then he added, “Which is exactly why it might work…”

88

Two hours later, I was back in Treporti – the small town where my road trip with Lucia had begun.

The sun was coming up and I was exhausted from lack of sleep. I knew I should try to nap while I had the chance, but it was pointless to even try. My mind was racing a million miles an hour and there was no hope of shutting it off. All I could think of was Lucia and how scared she must be.

In the absence of sleep, I decided I should get some food in me, so I parked in front of a small café.

As I was getting out, an old shopkeeper came out of the place next door and started shouting at me.

“Hey – hey, that’s my son’s car!”

Shit.

In my exhaustion, I’d forgotten I’d stolen it.

What are the chances? I thought wearily.

Actually, in a small town like this… pretty good, actually.

“You STOLE that car!” the old man roared. “I’m calling the cops!”

I did not need this right now.

I pulled out all the money I had left in my pocket – about 3000 euros, all in hundreds.

I peeled off a single bill to pay for breakfast, then held out the wad of cash. It was still damp from my dunk in the river.

The old man was stunned into silence.

“Take that and give it to your son,” I said. “In exchange for his inconvenience… and for you not calling the cops.”

When the old man didn’t reach for the money, I picked up his hand from his side and pressed the money into his palm.

The 2900 was more than the car was worth; it was a piece of crap. But I really couldn’t afford more complications today, so I asked, “You got a pen and paper?”

“Inside,” the old man mumbled.

“Go get it.”

He walked obediently back inside, then came out with a small pad and pen. I wrote down a phone number.

“Have your son call this number tomorrow morning – not today, tomorrow morning – and tell whoever answers that I owe another 30,000 euros for the car. If you don’t call the cops, the man at this number will immediately wire 30,000 euros to your son’s bank account. Do you understand?”

The old man hesitated, then nodded.

“You gonna call the cops?” I asked.

He shook his head no, his eyes wide.

“Grazie,” I said and patted his shoulder. Thank you.

Then I left him standing there in the street and went into the café.

89

After a hearty breakfast of frittata – eggs, bacon, and cheese baked in a casserole – and copious amounts of espresso, I walked out of the café and down to the shore.

I couldn’t see Venice from where I stood, but I knew from my boat ride with Lucia that several large islands were in the way.

I’d see Venice soon enough from the Isle of San Michele.

I only had to wait about 20 minutes before six black Mercedes drove up and parked on the road next to me.

Lars and Adriano got out, along with 20 men who worked as foot soldiers for my family.

A grin spread across my face from ear to ear.

As Lars and Adriano walked over towards me, Adriano held out his arms. “C’mere, you big lug! Jesus, you look like shit.”

I laughed as I hugged him.

Always trust Adriano to give it to you straight.

“That’s what four weeks on the run eating food out of cans will do to you,” I said.

“Yeah, but what’s this?” Adriano said as he patted my overgrown beard. “We should’ve brought a fuckin’ barber, too.”

I chuckled and then embraced Lars. “Thanks for coming.”

“Are you kidding me?” he said. “Wouldn’t have missed it.”

“Always wanted to storm the beaches at Normandy, huh?” I joked.

“NO,” Lars said with a raised eyebrow. “Definitely not. But as long as you do it, I’m going to have your back.”

“Thank you.” I looked at Adriano. “I appreciate you being here, I do… but you’re still recuperating from those cracked ribs.”

“You don’t realize how long you’ve been gone, bro.” Adriano patted his sides. “Fully recovered. Clean bill of health.”

“But you and Bianca just got married a month ago,” I protested. “You shouldn’t go.”

“That’s what I told him,” Lars said.

Adriano shook his head. “You stood shoulder to shoulder with me in Florence when the bullets were flying. Forget that I’m your brother – if I don’t help you after everything you did for me, then I’m not the man Bianca deserves.”

“I think she’d rather have you safe.”

“She wrecked that car and almost died to save you and me. I think she’d rather have a man who tries to be as brave as her instead of a coward for a husband.”

In my exhausted state, that really got me. I had to blink a couple of times as my eyes misted up.

“Niccolo said you proposed to this girl,” Lars said.

“I did.”

“Shit,” Adriano muttered as he studied my face. “You’re really in love with her, aren’t you?”

I nodded.

“Then I’m definitely going,” Adriano said.

I hugged him again, then said, “All right… by the way, did you get that thing I asked about?”

“Of course.”

Adriano gave me a small box, and I opened it.

“I tried to get the closest one to what you described,” he said.

“It’s perfect. Thank you,” I said as I put the box in my pocket.

Then I turned to address the men who had come with Adriano and Lars. “Thank you – all of you. Your presence here today not only means a lot to the family… it means a lot to me. I’ll never forget it.”

The men all nodded and murmured their replies.

You’re welcome.

Of course.

It’s our duty.

Lars popped the trunk of one of the cars and pulled out clothes on a hanger. “Your Guillardo suit.”

Signor Guillardo was a tailor in Florence who specialized in incorporating Kevlar and ceramic plates into his suits and tuxes. They weren’t entirely bulletproof, but they were the next best thing.

“Fuckin’ saved my life when Mezzasalma shot me,” Adriano said.

It was true. The only reason he’d gotten cracked ribs and not a perforated gut was because he’d been wearing a Guillardo tux.

“This isn’t going to be enough, though,” I said. “You brought all the bulletproof vests you could get your hands on?”

“Every single one not being used by the men guarding the house,” Lars confirmed.

“By the way – what happened with that assassin who took a shot at Dario?” I asked.

Lars and Adriano exchanged a look. Lars’s was more along the lines of Don’t you say a fuckin’ word while Adriano just smirked.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“It’s a long story,” Lars said.

“But a very interesting one,” Adriano said with a snorting laugh.

I frowned. “I wondered if the shooter might be Zollner, the guy who took Lucia. He didn’t mention it, but maybe he didn’t want me to know. It was three weeks ago – he could’ve taken the shot at Dario and then – ”

“OH no,” Adriano interrupted with a grin. “It wasn’t him. Trust me.”

Lars shot my brother another look, then promised me, “I’ll tell you after all this is over. Until then, it’s just a distraction.”

“Fine,” I said. “What’s Valentino doing in Sicily? And why’s Roberto in Hong Kong?”

“More distractions,” Lars said. “Later.”

If it was bad news and he didn’t want to tell me, it was probably for the best. I trusted his judgment.

“What about the boats?” I asked.

Lars checked his cell phone. “They should be arriving… now, as a matter of fact.”

Right on cue, three speed boats appeared in the distance. I could hear their engines roaring as they approached along the shoreline.

“You didn’t get them from Venice, right?” I asked. “There’s no chance they’re going to have bombs on them or – ”

“Nope,” Adriano. “We hired them out of Trieste.”

Trieste was a city across the water, about 40 miles from Venice. It was still in Italy but right on the border with Slovenia.

“Alright,” I said, and checked the other contents of the trunk.

Besides the bulletproof vests, there was a huge case that I assumed held Lars’s sniper rifle…

Plus a grenade launcher…

Plus an assortment of all types of assault rifles and pistols.

“Where’s the tools and duct tape?” I asked.

Lars rummaged under some bulletproof vests and pulled out the items I’d requested. “This is unorthodox, to say the very least.”

“Well, I need something for extra protection,” I said. “Zollner will be gunning for me from the second I step off the boat.”

I opened the rear passenger door of the Mercedes and set to work with the tools Lars had given me.

I got the door off its hinges in just under four minutes.

“We could’ve just gotten you a riot shield,” Adriano said as he put on a bulletproof vest.

“A riot shield won’t stop machine gun fire.”

“Let’s try not to expose ourselves to machine gun fire – how about that?” Lars said sardonically.

“Might not have a choice,” I said as I used a knife to rip off the wood lining and leather padding inside the door.

“BRO – do you know how expensive that is?!” Adriano barked.

“A lot less expensive than having me in the hospital for a month,” I answered.

“Roberto would have a heart attack if he saw you doing that.”

“Good thing he’s in Hong Kong, then. If you don’t tell him, I won’t either.”

“Why are you doing that?” Adriano asked.

“You’ll see.”

I finished ripping everything off the inside of the door until it was down to the metal frame.

Then I began wrapping loop after loop of duct tape through the crossbar of the door. I kept the sticky side out and put my left arm through the non-sticky center of the loop. Then I kept wrapping.

Once I’d finished the entire roll of duct tape, I had a heavy-duty sleeve I could carry the door with and still keep my left hand free.

A bulletproof shield taken off a bulletproof car.

Adriano laughed. “You’re the Cosa Nostra Captain America.”

“I can make one for you,” I joked.

“And lug around a 150-pound car door? No thanks,” Adriano said. “You’re the only guy I know who’s strong enough to pull that one off.”

“Plus, I can stick magazines to the tape and keep them handy for reloading.” I demonstrated by sticking five separate clips to the outer surface of the duct tape.

“Huh,” Lars said, mildly impressed. “How’d you think of that?”

“It was a long drive down here.”

“Well, it won’t be a long trip to San Michele, so let me show you what we’re going to do when we get there.”

I set down the car door as Lars produced a computer print-out of San Michele Island.

“I should put on my suit from Signor Guillardo,” I said.

“As long as you can do that and pay attention, be my guest.”

“What about the other guys?” I asked, gesturing with my head to our foot soldiers.

“Lars briefed ‘em before we left,” Adriano told me. “And then he had them repeat it back to him a dozen times while we were driving up from Tuscany.”

Lars looked over at me. “You ready?”

“Go for it,” I said as I started to change clothes. “Tell me all about storming the beaches at Normandy.”

90

Lucia

After showering in the nuns’ quarters, I put on a white dress that Aurelio’s men provided. Just a simple frock – nothing fancy about it. It fit poorly and hung loose on my body, but it was a relief to wear something dry. Bedroom slippers took the place of my muddy hiking boots.

Before I left the bathroom, I turned the ring Massimo had given me around so that the plastic stone faced my palm. Then I made a fist to hide it.

There was no way the assholes were going to take it from me. I’d bite off anybody’s nose who tried.

Once I stepped out of the bathroom, the two thugs marched me through the nuns’ quarters and back into the church.

I couldn’t help but notice the blood-smeared trail the priest’s body had left when they’d dragged it out.

Half a dozen men dressed in black and carrying assault rifles watched as I passed them. One of them said something in Russian, and a couple more snickered.

Wagner mercenaries, I thought.

Same as the assholes who tried to kidnap me a month ago.

Aurelio’s men took me out into a small courtyard, where another six mercenaries were standing around. From there we entered a door at the base of the bell tower.

We wound our way up a long spiral staircase. At the top was a small octagonal room with a lattice of wooden crossbeams overhead. The bells must have been removed – but there was a single wooden chair.

Empty archways on every side of the room led to a balcony with a white railing all around it.

Aurelio was on the balcony. He stared out at Venice, which was only 1200 feet across the water.

Next to him stood Zollner, who had his sniper rifle propped up on the railing. He was looking through the scope down at the cemetery, and was back to wearing his green alpine hunter’s hat with the feather in the band.

Aurelio turned around when his thugs forced me onto the balcony.

“Ah, there you are,” he said. He pulled me over to the white railing. “Stand right here for a minute.”

I glanced down uneasily. To the left was a huge tree; to the right was a red-tiled roof 60 feet down. Between them was a brick walkway on the ground. Unless you were lucky enough to hit the tree, a fall from this height would be fatal.

I wondered if Aurelio planned to push me over the edge.

Instead, he pulled out a cell phone, dialed, and put it on speakerphone.

“Ca’ Fioretti,” a man’s voice answered.

“Put me through to the Widow,” Aurelio said.

The man on the other end was indignant. “Signora Fioretti is not – ”

Aurelio spoke over him. “Lucia, say something to the moron.”

“…put him through,” I said.

I had no idea who the man on the other end of the line was, but he obviously knew me.

A few seconds later, Nona answered.

“Lucia? Are you alright?”

Anybody else would have thought she was calm and collected, but I knew her too well. The higher pitch of her voice let me know she was afraid.

“She’s fine. Aren’t you, Lucia?” Aurelio said smugly.

“Gettin’ there,” I muttered.

“Do you know who this is?” Aurelio asked.

“Aurelio Rosolini, I presume.”

“You presume correctly. Your men must have some binoculars on hand – I’m sure they’ve been watching my boats outside your palazzo for weeks now. Why don’t you borrow a pair and direct your attention to the bell tower on San Michele?”

There was a pause. “I’ll need a moment.”

“Take your time. We’re not going anywhere.”

Zollner pointed at the phone and put a finger to his lips. Aurelio muted the cell.

“You know, I could probably hit her from here,” Zollner said cheerfully.

“It’s 2500 feet to her palazzo,” Aurelio said, surprised.

“I’ve made farther shots than that.”

I looked at them in horror. “NO!”

“Relax, nobody’s doing anything,” Aurelio said. “Stop showing off, Zollner.”

The Swiss asshole smiled. “Just an option.”

“Signor Rosolini,” Nona said from the phone.

Aurelio tapped the button to unmute. “Yes, we’re – ”

“NONA, THERE’S A SNIPER!” I screamed.

Aurelio stepped behind me and put his arm around my throat, crushing my windpipe.

“Don’t,” he hissed in my ear. Then he said, “You must excuse your granddaughter, Signora Fioretti. Yes, there is a sniper up here… but he’s not for you.”

“Don’t worry, Lucia,” Nona said. “I’m behind bulletproof glass.”

Aurelio shot an irritated look at Zollner, who shrugged and grinned like Nobody’s perfect.

“Can you see your granddaughter? Wave for her, Lucia,” Aurelio hissed in my ear.

I lifted my arm and did as he ordered.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

“…what do you want?” Nona finally said.

“An alliance between our families,” Aurelio purred. “Nothing more.”

“And you plan to get it by holding my granddaughter hostage, is that it?”

“Let’s just say she’ll be the glue that binds our agreement together.”

“And if that agreement doesn’t hold?”

Aurelio grabbed my wet hair and forced me up against the railing. “Well, it’s a long way down.”

I felt my stomach lurch. A hundred feet below me, the ground seemed to spin slightly.

“STOP,” Nona snapped. “You’ve made your point.”

“Good,” Aurelio said as he pulled me back from the railing. “I’m glad.”

“I’m assuming you’ll want some kind of meeting to cement our newfound agreement.”

“Absolutely. Clear your schedule for later this afternoon – I have something to take care of first.”

“And what is that, pray tell?”

“Keep watching out the window,” Aurelio said with a sinister chuckle. “It’ll be very entertaining.”

After he hung up the phone, he dragged me over to the chair inside the tower and forced me to sit.

“Tie her up,” he snapped at his two thugs.

One zip-tied my hands behind the wooden chair, then did the same with my feet.

Zollner watched them tie me up. “Such pretty bait,” he said with an avuncular smile, then turned back to Aurelio. “I think I’ll probably lie on the balcony floor. Moving positions will be more inefficient, but I don’t want to make myself a target.”

“However you want to do it,” Aurelio said.

“You’re both dead men,” I said between gritted teeth.

“In the end, we all are,” Aurelio said philosophically. “But not today.”

“Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for your fiancé, I fear,” Zollner chuckled.

Then he clack-clacked the bolt on his rifle.

My blood ran cold at the sound.

91

Massimo

After the briefing, Lars ordered the men into the boats.

Before we left, there was one last thing for me to do, no matter how much I was dreading it:

I borrowed Adriano’s phone and called the Widow’s palazzo.

When a man answered, I said, “I need to speak to Signora Fioretti. Tell her it’s Massimo Rosolini.”

Five seconds later, the old lady answered.

“Your cousin has my granddaughter,” she said, her voice furious.

“Aurelio called you, didn’t he,” I said, my stomach twisting nervously.

“Not only that, he SHOWED her to me.”

I frowned. “What?! Where?”

“They’re in the bell tower on the island of San Michele. I can see her from my bedroom window with a pair of binoculars, along with your cousin and some man in a ridiculous hat.”

Zollner.

I gestured to Lars, who came jogging over. “Is she alright?” I asked the Widow.

“She’s ALIVE, no thanks to YOU. What the hell happened?”

“Aurelio hired a professional hunter who found us and kidnapped her early this morning.”

While I spoke, Lars produced the map of the island. I tapped the bell tower.

Lucia? he mouthed silently.

I nodded and mouthed Aurelio and Zollner as I continued to tap the map.

Lars had suspected that was where Zollner would set up shop. Now we had confirmation that Lucia and Aurelio were there, too.

While we were doing all that, the Widow snarled, “And this hunter – he oh-so-conveniently didn’t kill YOU?”

“It’s a trap. Aurelio wants me to storm the island with my brothers so he can kill us all at once.”

“I see. So you safely sit on the sidelines while my granddaughter – ”

“We’re in Treporti,” I interrupted. “We leave for San Michele as soon as I hang up the phone.”

There was a long pause.

When she finally spoke, the Widow sounded almost apologetic.

“…I see I have underestimated you once again.”

“I called to let you know I’m going to get Lucia.”

“And if you don’t succeed?”

“Then they can bury me right there on the island.”

She chuckled darkly. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Pray.”

“Considering how I’ve lived the last 40 years, I’m not sure those prayers will be answered,” she said wrily.

“Doesn’t hurt to try.” I thought back to Florence, when Bianca flipped the car to save me and Adriano. “Actually – can you get a helicopter to airlift anyone off of San Michele?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Might be a good idea to have two of them, just in case.”

“I should warn you, I will order them NOT to help your cousin, even if he would otherwise live.”

“Fine by me.”

“Alright, they’ll be on standby.” There was another pause, and the Widow asked, “Why are you doing this? It’s not just to gain an ally against your uncle, is it.”

I pondered whether I should tell her…

Then decided I might as well.

“Over the last three weeks, I fell in love with Lucia.”

“…I see. And does she feel the same way about you?”

“She does.”

“Then I should warn you, I lost my son and daughter-in-law when Lucia was very young – ”

“She told me.”

“…she did?” the Widow asked, astounded.

“She told me about the car crash your enemies planned, and the assassin on the motorcycle, and how you came to get her after it was all over.”

Then came the longest pause of all.

“My granddaughter must care about you immensely, Massimo… because she has not spoken to me about it once in the 15 years since it happened.”

My heart both expanded with joy and ached with grief. I realized how much Lucia trusted me… and how much I had failed her by not protecting her.

“I… I didn’t know that.”

The Widow’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Please… bring her back to me.”

“I will,” I promised. “Or I’ll die trying.”

92

Lucia

A mafia goon came running up the stairs to the bell tower.

“Sir, our patrols spotted three speedboats leaving Treporti and heading for Venice. Do you want them to engage?”

My heart skipped a beat.

Both with hope –

And fear.

Massimo’s on one of those boats…

Zollner peered out at the bay through his rifle scope and giggled. “Oh, my – there they are! Full speed ahead!”

“Tell them to attack, but don’t worry if they get to the island,” Aurelio said. “Alert everyone here to get ready.”

The thug nodded, then spoke into his radio as he went back down the stairs.

“Oh, I hope they all make it!” Zollner squealed in excitement. “This is going to be so much FUN!”

93

Massimo

The wind whipped in our faces as the speedboats roared across the water.

We were heading towards the islands of Le Vignole and Sant’Erasmo. The plan was to go between them and then head for San Michele.

Lars was driving the boat I was in. Five men huddled in the seats behind us.

Adriano was piloting another boat with six men, and there was a third boat with the remainder of our guys.

Twenty-three men to take a whole island against a force of God knows how many mercenaries.

Lars’s words echoed in my head:

Odds are they’re in the church on the northwest tip of San Michele. It’s basically a fortress – and the most easily guarded spot on the island.

We can’t attack it directly. That would be suicide. There’s a stone wall surrounding it that we’d have to climb, plus Aurelio’s sure to have at least half his men inside the church. They’d kill us before we could even get out of the boats.

The bell tower next to the church is the highest point on the island, so they’re sure to have a sniper up there. If we get out too close, it’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel for him.

The only choice we have is to split up. Three boats will land at three different spots to the west, south, and east. We get out and cross the island, and all three teams converge on the church. That’s the plan.

After my call to the Widow, we knew Lucia was in the bell tower with Aurelio and Zollner.

We had our target.

Suddenly, I could see a boat speeding towards us across the water. It was still a good 800 feet away.

“INCOMING!” Lars shouted.

All the men crouched down below the edge of the boat.

The windshield was bulletproof and I was in the passenger seat, so I figured I was safe.

“Massimo, take the wheel!” Lars yelled over the wind.

“What?!” I asked, shocked.

“Play chicken with them. At the last second, go LEFT the tiniest bit. I want you to miss them but don’t slow down. The instant we pass them, try to get the boat upright. We’re going to hit their wake, so it’s going to be choppy.”

“Are you sure about this?” I asked as I grabbed the wheel.

“Yup,” Lars said as he got out of the driver’s seat. He grabbed something off the boat floor, then gestured to the guys in the back. “Out of the way!”

I scrunched down behind the windshield and began to sweat. I’d thought the big battle would be on the island – not out here on the water.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Lars settle between the rear seats. He braced a grenade launcher on the back of the boat like he was aiming at somebody following us.

“Hold onto me so I don’t get thrown out!” he yelled at the guys nearby, and they grabbed onto him.

Bullets hit our windshield, chipping and cracking the glass.

Pop pop pop pop!

200 feet away –

100 feet away –

“GET READY!” I screamed, and jerked the wheel at the last second.

We roared past them at a terrifying speed.

The right side of our boat was lifted up in the air, and their bullets smacked the underside of the hull.

Ping ping ping ping!

“NOW!” Lars screamed.

I jerked the boat slightly to the right and tried to get us level.

We slammed into the other boat’s wake, launching into the air like a skier jumping a small hill –

And then I heard the PTUNK of Lars firing the grenade launcher.

I couldn’t help myself – I glanced back over my shoulder.

The projectile shot out over the water –

Hit the inside of the mercenaries’ windshield –

Bounced back inside the boat –

And exploded.

BOOM!

The entire boat went up in a fireball.

Every one of our men screamed with joy.

“FUCKIN’ GREAT SHOT!” Adriano yelled over the earpiece I was wearing. Lars had one, too.

Lars grinned as he made his way back up to the front. “Just lucky.”

Adriano laughed. “Yeah, well, I’d rather be lucky than good ANY day.”

“Let’s try to be both,” I said as I handed the wheel back to Lars.

94

Lucia

There was an explosion somewhere on the water. It was far enough away that it was faint, but the sound was unmistakable.

My heart froze in my chest when I heard it.

“What happened?” Aurelio asked with a huge grin.

“Oof,” Zollner exhaled as he peered through his rifle scope. “It seems our enemies have drawn first blood. Quite a bit of blood, actually.”

Aurelio’s smirk quickly faded.

Zollner turned to him and smiled with Pollyanna-ish optimism. “At least they were mercenaries, ja? Rent-a-cops – is that the term?”

“Awwww,” I said with fake sympathy. “Did your bad guys bite the big one?”

Aurelio glared at me hatefully as he spoke to Zollner. “When they reach the island… make sure you kill Massimo first.”

My stomach twisted with fear.

“With pleasure,” Zollner giggled as he looked back through his scope.

95

Massimo

After Lars blew up the boat, the other mercenaries gave us a wide berth. The most we had to deal with was a few potshots that didn’t even come close to hitting us.

Within minutes, we entered the main bay surrounding Venice.

The island of San Michele was so close to the city that its outline blended with Venice’s – all except the church’s bell tower, which towered above everything else.

As we raced towards the island, our boats split up.

Lars and I would go to the eastern side. There was a boat dock there where we would disembark.

Adriano would go around the island and get out on the west.

The third boat would split the difference and land on the south shore.

The plan was to storm the island and converge on the church in the north. Hopefully, we could split up Aurelio’s forces along the way and take them out in guerilla-style combat.

That was the plan, anyway.

Things didn’t go exactly to plan.

As our boat approached the eastern pier, I got ready.

First I slipped my left arm through the duct tape sleeve on the door. My improvised shield was heavy, but I was so pumped with adrenaline that I barely noticed.

Then I arranged everything else.

I held a Glock in my right hand. My left hand gripped three separate magazines for quick reloading. Another four magazines were stuck to the duct tape wrapped around my left arm, and my pockets were filled with more clips. A holster on my hip held another Glock just in case my main gun jammed.

I was ready.

It was too bad we couldn’t use the grenade launcher Lars had used to blow up the boat. We could have used it to target the church – but we couldn’t risk hurting Lucia.

So we’d have to go in and clear the place out, one by one.

Lars yelled instructions to our group. “Don’t worry about tying up the boat – just jump off and RUN for it. Get to cover as fast as you can. There’s a sniper up in that bell tower and he’ll be gunning for you.”

Lars steered the boat into a docking area cut into the shoreline. A pier ran around the rectangular perimeter. There was open ground for 40 feet, then a wall that separated the dock from the cemetery.

As the boat pulled up alongside the dock, I was the first to jump off the boat.

There was a distant Crack –

And something slammed HARD into my makeshift shield.

96

Lucia

“Bullseye!” Zollner shouted.

I screamed.

I imagined Massimo lying on the ground bleeding –

The man on the motorcycle fires his gun at my parents –

“You got him?!” Aurelio asked.

Zollner sounded confused. “Well, it was dead center, but… he appears to be carrying… a car door?!”

I lifted my head, eyes wide.

“…what?” Aurelio said in bewilderment.

Zollner laughed. “I’ll bet he took it off a bulletproof car… clever boy!”

Suddenly I could feel my heart beating again.

Aurelio was pissed. “Take out the others, then.”

There was a clack-clack! as Zollner worked the lever on his rifle. The brass shell ejected and hit the rooftop with a metallic clink!

“I shall,” Zollner said cheerfully as he aimed again. “Oh, look – they’re wearing bulletproof vests! That’s so cute. Effective against a nine millimeter round, ja… but not so good against a .338 Laupa Magnum.”

CRACK.

97

Massimo

The fact that I’d been shot at before I was five feet off the boat stunned me for a second –

But Lars never broke stride as he raced for the wall. He knew it was the only thing that would shield us from Zollner in the bell tower.

“RUN!” he screamed.

I immediately sprinted for the wall, too.

By the time I reached safety, the other men were almost there –

Except for Lorenzo, who had stumbled getting out of the boat.

His chest exploded in a cloud of red.

A split second later, we heard the crack! of the gunshot as the sound finally caught up with the supersonic bullet.

98

Lucia

“Ha! Got him,” Zollner said gleefully.

“Was it one of the brothers?” Aurelio asked. “Or the blond-haired guy?”

“No, but their turn is coming soon enough,” Zollner said confidently. “We won’t count the first shot because of Massimo’s clever little shield, so let’s say… I’m one for one.”

Clack-clack –

Clink.

I felt like I was going to throw up.

99

Massimo

Shit.

I stared helplessly at Lorenzo. He lay on his back, choking on his own blood as a dark stain spread out beneath him on the gravel.

Lorenzo had fought alongside me, Lars, and Adriano back in Florence.

He was a good man –

And now he was dying.

One of the other guys, Rocco, moved to help Lorenzo –

“NO!” Lars yelled as he flung his arm out and stopped him. “That’s just what the sniper wants. You go out there and you’re dead.”

Rocco watched in anguish as Lorenzo lay twitching on the ground. “But – h-he had on a bulletproof vest – ”

“The sniper’s using rounds that can get through our armor,” Lars warned us.

Our foot soldiers looked at each other in horror as they realized that nothing they had on would protect them.

Adriano’s voice spoke through my earpiece. “What happened?”

“Zollner shot Lorenzo,” I said dully.

“Mother FUCKER,” Adriano swore.

“Everybody, listen up,” Lars said as he gripped his rifle. “I’m splitting off from the group like we planned. Follow Massimo – and always keep something between you and that bell tower. If you can see IT, then the sniper can see you.”

The men all glanced at Lorenzo in fear.

“Good luck,” I said to Lars.

“You, too,” he replied, then went right. He kept close to the wall and disappeared around the corner three seconds later.

“Everybody – behind me,” I said as I lifted my shield and stepped out from behind the wall.

Our entrance into the cemetery was a tree-lined walkway.

Unlike a traditional graveyard with tombstones in the ground, this section had white marble walls lining a straight path. The marble walls were basically crypts where coffins were kept, with individual compartments stacked five high on top of each other. The area was reserved for the wealthier citizens of Venice who could afford something a bit fancier for their final repose.

We didn’t run – we didn’t want to run headlong into a group of mercenaries waiting for us – but we walked as fast as we could. We also took cover behind trees and whenever horizontal pathways broke up the main boulevard.

One odd thing about the marble walls was that each crypt had a picture of the deceased along with their name. The tiny circular photographs were covered with plastic to make them weatherproof.

The grim irony did not escape me:

Hundreds of the dead watched as four dead men walked past.

Don’t think like that, I chided myself.

It’s going to be fine – it’s going to be –

CRACK!

To my left, Emilio – another man who had fought alongside me in Florence – fell to the ground as blood sprayed across the white marble walls and the smiling photographs of the dead.

100

Lucia

“Two for two,” Zollner said with a chuckle.

Clack-clack –

Clink.

101

Massimo

“GO, GO, GO!” I yelled as we reached the end of the white marble crypts.

We’d hit an intersecting pathway.

In front of us was a ten-foot wall, so we could only go right or left.

I broke left, and my two remaining men followed close behind.

The good thing was that the wall would protect us from the sniper.

The bad thing was that Lars said this would be a perfect place for the mercenaries to show up.

He was right.

A man in black stepped into view 50 feet ahead of us and opened fire with his assault rifle.

My men dove behind trees lining the walkway while I crouched down behind my shield. The bullets went ping ping ping across the metal.

I don’t think the mercenary knew I had the car door when he stepped out to fire at us – and I don’t think he knew what it was, so he was confused.

A second later, he was dead.

I held out my Glock to the right side of the door and fired.

BLAM BLAM BLAM!

The mercenary jerked and went down.

“Got one,” I said as I stood up and started walking again.

“We keepin’ score?” Adriano joked.

“No, just celebrating the small wins.”

As I passed by the mercenary, I shot him in the head to make sure he stayed down.

Then I turned right down the pathway he’d emerged from. My men followed close behind me.

In the distance, I heard gunfire.

Brattatattatat!

Blam! Blam! Blam!

“Engaging,” Adriano said in a hushed voice over the earpiece.

Crack!

The shot echoed through the cemetery –

“Shit,” Adriano hissed. “He got Luca.”

102

Lucia

“Three for three,” Zollner said.

Clack-clack –

Clink.

Sweat was dripping down my face.

Please God, I prayed.

Please let Massimo be okay –

103

Massimo

The rest of the way was hard-fought.

My men and I cut through a more traditional part of the cemetery filled with stone slabs in the grass. Then we took cover behind a tiny chapel with a domed ceiling.

We could have taken a more direct route to the church, but as Lars had predicted, gunmen were waiting for us at the end of the 150-foot-long corridor. There were at least five of them, and they fired at us from around a corner as we rushed into the graveyard.

They were funneling us towards the central pathway that led to the church…

So that Zollner could get at us.

Luckily, we were still shielded from him by a series of buildings – for now.

On our way through the graveyard, we exchanged fire with another three mercenaries. Two we killed, and one withdrew –

But I lost another man. Gerardo was shot in the leg and couldn’t walk, so we left him hidden in the bushes.

The entire time, I heard gunshots across the island –

And the sporadic but relentless crack! of Zollner’s rifle.

Every time I heard it, I winced…

Because I was fairly sure it meant one of our men had died.

Finally we reached the semicircular courtyard that led to the church.

The only way in was 80 feet of wide-open space.

I knew that there were mercenaries hidden around every corner –

But the worst threat by far was Zollner in the bell tower.

A sniper above us, and God knows how many gunmen waiting for us at ground level –

It was going to be like walking straight into a buzzsaw.

Adriano came running up from the west, directly across the open pathway from me.

He’d started out with six men on the boat –

But now there were only two remaining.

From behind us, another five men came running out of the graveyard, darting from tree to tree.

Lars, Adriano, and I had come to the island with 20 men –

And only 8 were still standing.

Not good… especially considering that the hardest part of the battle lay directly ahead.

There was no sound in the cemetery. After all the gunfire, it was eerie… like the calm before the storm.

“What do we do?” Adriano whispered across the 20-foot-wide entrance to the courtyard.

“Lars?” I said as I ejected the clip from my Glock, popped in a fresh magazine, and jacked the slide to load the first round.

“I think I’ve got a bead on the sniper,” he spoke through the earpiece. “Does he wear some kind of hat, by any chance?”

“That’s him. What about Lucia?” I asked, my heart thudding fearfully in my chest.

“I see a girl’s head. I think she’s sitting in a chair. She’s got a black eye, but otherwise she seems okay.”

My blood boiled to hear that my cousin – or Zollner, or someone – had laid hands on her. “What about Aurelio?”

“He’s hiding inside the bell tower, so I can’t get a clear shot. And I only have one. Once I take it, they’ll hunker down and I won’t get another.”

“Alright… go after Zollner.”

“He’s lying on his stomach on the balcony. Because of the angle, I can’t see his body. I can see a bit of the hat, but just the top of it. Whenever he moves the gun to aim at a new target, he brings his head up slightly – so I need somebody to force him to move the gun.”

“So… somebody needs to go running out into the courtyard, is what you’re saying,” Adriano said.

“Pretty much.”

“I’ll go,” I said. “I’ve got the bulletproof shield.”

“How many times has he fired at you since you got off the boat?” Lars asked.

“Just once.”

“Then that’s no good. He knows he can’t penetrate your shield, so he’ll ignore you – and you’ll just end up fighting 20 mercenaries.”

“There are 20 mercenaries?!”

“Two or 20, it doesn’t matter – you’re not going to draw Zollner’s fire.”

I looked back at my sole remaining foot soldier.

I hated to send him out into what was quite possibly a suicide mission, but –

“Guess it’s me, then,” Adriano said.

“What?!” I cried out.

“You want the top job, you take the risks,” he said as he looked me in the eyes. “Get ready, Lars – I only wanna do this once.”

“NO – ” I shouted.

104

Lucia

“What’s going on?” Aurelio demanded from where he stood beside me. Once the gunfire had started getting closer, he’d retreated inside the bell tower like a coward.

“Our friends have gathered at the courtyard, just as we expected,” Zollner said with a chuckle.

“Massimo?” Aurelio asked.

My heart skipped a beat when the bastard said his name.

“He’s there, but he still has that verdammt shield of his.”

“What about Adriano?”

“I believe the other brother is… yes, he poked his head out for a peek, now he’s gone again. I believe he is going to make a run for it.” Zollner chuckled. “Seven for seven, coming up.”

“What about Lars?”

“The Swede? Haven’t seen him.”

“He’s supposedly good with a rifle.”

Zollner snorted. “If he thinks he can make the shot, he’s welcome to try.”

My mind raced frantically.

If somebody was going to run out into the courtyard – Massimo or one of his brothers –

I had to distract Zollner.

So I screamed at the top of my lungs with my best ear-piercing, blood-curdling shriek.

105

Massimo

“Wish me luck,” Adriano said.

“ADRIANO!” I yelled just as he bolted out into the open –

And a high-pitched scream from the bell tower pierced the air.

Lucia!

Adriano dove and rolled behind a bush.

CRACK!

A bullet missed him by inches and blasted up chunks of concrete from the sidewalk.

A second later, mercenaries began firing from the other side of the courtyard.

“Uh, guys – ?” Adriano said as he flattened himself on the ground.

“Lars!” I shouted.

“Not yet… not – YET – ”

106

Lucia

I heard the CRACK of the rifle over my scream.

“Gottverdammnt!” Zoller roared, the first time I had ever heard him angry. “AURELIO, SILENCE HER!”

Aurelio hit me across the face – hard.

Not a slap, but a punch with his fist.

My head snapped to the side and I quit screaming, momentarily dazed.

Then I heard the dreaded sound.

Clack-clack –

Clink.

“There he is, hiding behind the bush,” Zoller purred as he adjusted his aim. “Auf wiedersehen, Herr Roso– ”

Suddenly, the hunter’s hat blew off his head –

Along with the top half of his skull.

Blood sprayed the inside of the bell tower.

My white dress – and Aurelio’s fancy suit – were flecked with spots of red as a distant crack reverberated over the island.

Zollner slumped onto his side as a pool of red gushed out across the balcony.

I should have been traumatized.

I should have thought of my parents –

Or the man I’d shot in the barn.

Instead, a white-hot surge of triumph raced through me, unlike anything I’d ever felt before.

“FUCK YEAH!” I screamed.

Then I leaned forward in my chair and shrieked at Zollner’s corpse. “FUCK YOU, MOTHERFUCKER!”

I turned to Aurelio standing next to me.

His face had gone paler than fallen snow.

“You’re next, asshole,” I spat.

107

Massimo

“I think I got him,” Lars said in my ear.

A split second later, I heard the voice of the woman I loved screaming from the bell tower:

“FUCK YEAH! FUCK YOU, MOTHERFUCKER!”

“You got him,” I said, my heart soaring.

Then I turned to the men behind me and shouted, “LET’S GO!”

I charged into the courtyard, bellowing at the top of my lungs, my shield held out in front of me as I fired my gun.

All of my men charged into the courtyard behind me, guns blazing.

Adriano leaped up from his hiding place, firing and screaming like a madman.

Two, three, four mercenaries went down –

But two of our men went down, too.

I felt a burst of pain on my right side.

I turned and fired at a mercenary in the shadows and took him down with one shot.

One of the Russians screamed something that was probably Fall back! –

And the mercenaries began retreating across the courtyard into the church.

Dozens of bullets blasted my shield, and the glass pane turned opaque from all the cracks in it.

Ping ping ping ping ping ping

Something struck my leg with a horrific pain, but I ignored it and kept going.

And then we were in the church.

The mercenaries crouched behind pews – hid behind corners –

But one by one, we took them down.

Unfortunately, they took three more of my men with them.

Not all of them were dead, but they were so badly wounded they couldn’t keep going.

In the end, it was only me and Adriano as we burst out of the back of the church.

The bell tower was 20 feet away across a tree-lined courtyard.

Gunshots echoed behind us in the church, and I felt a sharp pain flare in my back.

“GO!” Adriano screamed as he crouched next to the door and returned fire. “I’ll hold them off!”

I staggered towards the bell tower.

A man in a suit – one of Aurelio’s thugs – was inside the doorway.

He opened fire –

But I slammed the car door into him like a battering ram.

When he fell to the ground, I dropped into a crouch and slammed the bottom of my shield into his head with a crunch, turning his skull to pulp.

Then I started up the stairs.

Man after man was on the stairwell, firing down at me.

The vast majority of shots I blocked with the shield, but ricochets and pieces of shrapnel buzzed around me like angry bees.

Every man that appeared, I shot him –

Or I bludgeoned him to death –

Until there were a dozen dead bodies in my wake.

I dropped the magazine from my gun and reloaded.

Then I staggered up the last few stairs to the top of the bell tower.

108

I held up my shield in front of me.

As I reached the top of the stairs, the gunfire down below ceased.

“It’s over,” Adriano said.

But I didn’t answer him because I was too overpowered by the sight of Lucia.

She was sitting in a chair, her hands bound behind her.

She had a black eye, but other than that, she seemed unharmed.

She stared up at me with tears running down her cheeks –

And a smile of utter joy on her lips.

But her smile slowly faded and was replaced with horror.

I could imagine why.

My shield was caked with the blood and brains of a half-dozen dead men.

My own blood dripped down my face and into my beard, pouring out of tiny shrapnel wounds I’d suffered from the gunfight in the bell tower.

I must have looked like a demon straight out of hell.

But I was a demon of vengeance –

And my final quarry was in front of me.

Aurelio crouched down behind Lucia’s chair, his eyes wide with terror –

And a pistol at her head.

“S-stop,” he said, though his voice was terrified rather than commanding.

I glanced over to my right.

Zollner’s body was lying on the ground, the top of his skull a bloody mess.

“Looks like your mad dog got put down, cousin,” I said quietly.

Aurelio’s entire body was trembling. I could hear the gun shaking in his hand.

“I’ll kill her if you come any closer,” he threatened.

“I’m staying right here. Are you alright?” I asked Lucia, looking at her tenderly.

“Yes.” She paused, then said, “…considering. Better than Elmer Fudd, anyways,” she said, tipping her head towards Zollner’s corpse.

I laughed darkly, then looked at Aurelio. “Listen to me, cousin. Are you listening?”

“Don’t you – ”

“Shhhhh,” I hushed him. “Even after everything that’s happened, I’m willing to cut you a deal. If you put down your gun, I’ll put down mine. I won’t hurt you. You’ll have to go before the Council at Rome and tell every Cosa Nostra family what you and Fausto did… but they’ll decide your punishment, not me or any of my brothers.”

“You gotta be fucking KIDDING me,” Adriano growled in my ear. “Hold on, I’m coming up.”

I ignored my brother and focused on Aurelio.

The fear had left my cousin’s eyes, and I could see cunning creeping back into them.

“But,” I continued, “if you hurt her in any way… I’m not going to kill you. Not today. Not in a month, or two months, or a year. I’m going to take you somewhere no one will ever find you… and I’m going to torture you for weeks on end.

“First, I’m going to crush your balls with a pair of pliers. I won’t do anything else – I’m just going to listen to you scream. Then I’m going to cut off your cock… an inch at a time… day by day. But I’ll cauterize the wound so you don’t bleed out. In fact, I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you alive. I’ll give you blood transfusions… antibiotics… feed you through a tube… anything I need to so you stay alive as long as possible.

“Then, after I’ve turned your dick into a charred stump, I’ll start taking off your fingers, joint by joint… day by day… one by one. Once I’m done with your fingers, I’ll do your toes the same way. Then your hands up to the wrist… then your feet up to the ankles.

“But I’m not going to cut off your arms and legs. No. I’m going to break them in a hundred places, along with all your ribs… and I’m going to stuff you in a tiny little cage in a fetal position… and I’m going to leave you hooked up to the IVs and everything else to keep you alive… and I’m just going to leave you like that, in agony, in your own shit and piss… alive… for years. And I’ll come visit you every day and say, ‘Remember that time you could have saved yourself, cousin? Remember when I was willing to cut you a deal?’ And you’ll beg me to kill you… but I won’t. I’ll keep you alive, in an unending hell of pain, until you die at a ripe old age.”

“Jesus,” I heard Adriano whisper in my ear.

“OR… you put down your gun… and I won’t hurt you. You’ll stand trial before the Council… but I won’t harm you, and neither will any of my brothers or my men.”

Lucia stared at me, unsure what to think of the demon in front of her talking about horrors beyond imagining.

But Aurelio?

Aurelio was listening.

“Swear it,” he demanded.

“I swear it on my life – on my soul. May I die and burn in hell if I break my word to you.”

He looked at me sideways as though trying to figure out if he should trust me…

And then he lowered his gun to the floor and set it down.

“Kick it over here,” I instructed.

He did.

I tossed my own gun to the side, then took off my shield and let it thud to the floor.

I limped over to him, a kind smile on my face. “Good choice, cousin. Stand up.”

He obeyed, but he looked at me uncertainly.

I smiled… patted his cheek with my bloody hand…

And then grabbed his jacket and pushed him backwards onto the balcony.

My face was a mask of rage –

And his face was absolute terror.

“You PROMISED!” he shrieked. “You SWORE – ”

“On my life. But I don’t give a shit about MY life. Only my brothers’ and HERS. But I will be merciful and make it a quick death.”

“YOU SWORE ON YOUR SOUL!” he screamed.

I smiled at him – but this time with fury and hatred. “Then I’ll see you in hell.”

I heaved him up in the air, raised him over my head –

And I threw him over the side of the bell tower.

He screamed all the way down, 130 feet –

Until his head struck the walkway on the ground and a sheet of blood spattered across the tiles.

It was over.

It was finally over.

109

I staggered over to Lucia and pulled a folding knife from my pocket, which I opened with a click. I knelt behind her chair and carefully cut the zip tie binding her wrists.

I had to be extra careful because I was losing feeling in my hands.

I knew I didn’t have long.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” I wheezed as I moved in front of her to free her ankles.

I expected her to answer.

What I didn’t expect was for her tiny hands to grab my face, force me to look up at her –

And then she kissed me. Passionately. Without any regard for the blood spattering my face.

When she pulled away, she was smiling and sobbing.

“I knew you’d come for me,” she whispered, and she showed me the toy ring I’d proposed to her with. “I knew it.”

I smiled, overjoyed.

But I still had work to do.

I carefully cut the bindings on her ankles. Now I couldn’t feel my hands at all.

“There,” I whispered. “You’re free.”

I tried to get up –

But my legs gave out from beneath me, and I fell back against the interior wall of the bell tower.

“MASSIMO!” she screamed as she rushed to my side.

She grabbed one of my hands, and her eyes widened with shock. “Your hands – they’re so cold!”

“It’s… it’s okay…”

“HELP!” she screamed as she turned to the stairwell. “HELP US, PLEASE!”

I heard Lars’ and Adriano’s voices in my ears.

“I called the Widow. We’ve got a chopper coming in – hang on, Massimo – ”

“Massimo, hang on, I’m coming up, just hang on – ”

“Thank you, guys,” I whispered. But the voices were distracting me from Lucia, so I pulled the earpiece out and let it fall on the floor.

“I did my job,” I whispered.

Lucia got right up next to me and cradled my face in her hands. Tears were spilling down her cheeks. “What job?”

“I kept you… safe. I failed twice… but in the end… you’re okay…”

She nodded frantically. “You saved me – you did!”

“…if… there’s a baby… you have to keep it safe…”

“Don’t talk like that, please don’t talk like that!”

I chuckled. “…do you… do you still hate me…?”

She burst into sobs and shook her head.

“No… I love you… I love you so much…”

Those were the sweetest words I’d ever heard in my life.

I smiled, tears filling my own eyes as I put my hand on her cheek.

If only I’d been able to feel it as I touched her.

Adriano came staggering up the steps, clutching his side.

“Oh no – no, no, no, NO – Mass, you fuckin’ hang on!” he shouted as he got down on his knees opposite Lucia.

He pulled up the edge of one of my bulletproof vests. I could tell from how he breathed in sharply that whatever he saw, it wasn’t good.

He pressed both hands against my side. “Just fuckin’ hang on, you asshole – hang on, help’s coming – don’t you fuckin’ die on me, Mass!”

Lucia was bawling. She held my face in her hands and kissed me. I could taste the salt of her tears on my lips.

“Don’t leave me,” she sobbed. “Please don’t leave me – please – you said you’d never leave me!”

I hated to break her heart like this…

To leave like her parents did…

But the edges of my vision were growing dark.

“…I’m… sorry, baby…”

I smiled one last time.

“…I… love you… too…”

And then darkness took over completely, turning everything to black.

110

Lucia

I was there when Massimo blacked out.

I kept talking to him, whispering in his ear, kissing his face, and telling him I loved him.

I cried the entire time.

Adriano elevated Massimo’s legs and kept pressure on his wounds. He told me Massimo’s heart was still beating, so keep talking and tell him to stay with us.

I was there when Lars showed up.

It was funny – after all of Massimo’s stories, I felt like I knew him and Adriano, even though I’d never seen them before.

“Are you the one who killed Zollner?” I asked.

He nodded somberly.

“Thank you,” I told him, then went back to whispering in Massimo’s ear.

Lars couldn’t do anything we weren’t doing already, so he left to go help any of his men who might still be alive.

I was there when the first helicopter landed in the courtyard outside the church.

Lars directed the EMTs to the bell tower, and they came rushing up the stairs.

They took over for Adriano and put pressure bandages on the wounds they could find. They strapped an oxygen mask to Masimo’s face and put a plastic collar around his neck. With Adriano’s help, they got him on a big plastic board to carry him, then slowly transported him down the stairs. It took all the EMTs’ strength just to get him down to the ground level. At that point, Adriano and Lars took over to carry Massimo to the helicopter.

I followed them every step of the way.

Another helicopter was hovering nearby, waiting for the first one to take off so it could land and help the other wounded.

I was about to climb in beside Massimo when one of the EMTs said, “Signorina, you can’t go with us – ”

“The hell I CAN’T,” I yelled over the helicopter’s blades. “My grandmother is the Widow of Venice, she’s fucking paying you, and I’m going with him whether you like it or not.”

The EMT glanced over at Adriano and Lars.

Lars motioned with his hand like Let her onboard.

“You heard the lady,” Adriano shouted.

The EMTs let me in the helicopter.

“Thank you,” I yelled at Lars and Adriano.

“Take care of him for us!” Adriano yelled.

“I will!” I yelled right before they shut the door.

While we were in the air, the EMTs hooked him up to IVs of blood and fluids.

The entire time, I kissed Massimo’s face and whispered frantically, “You can’t leave me… you can’t… I love you… you promised me you wouldn’t leave me…”

The helicopter landed on the roof of the hospital five minutes later.

I got out and ran beside them as hospital personnel put him on a gurney and wheeled him into the building.

I only left him when they wheeled him into the ER for surgery.

“Signorina – ”

“I know,” I said, then bent down and whispered in his ear, “I love you. Come back to me.”

I kissed him on the lips and let them usher me out.

I sat numbly on a chair outside surgery as a nurse checked on me, shining a light in my eye and asking me questions. I guess she was worried because of the blood on my dress – but she backed off a little when I told her it wasn’t mine.

Then there was a huge commotion at the end of the hall.

A group of men in black suits came striding towards me –

And at their center was my grandmother, her long black dress sweeping the floor as she walked.

“Nona,” I said, and my entire face crumpled.

I stood up, and she took me in her arms.

I put my head on her shoulder and wept uncontrollably.

“I’m so sorry, my darling,” she whispered as I sobbed. “I’m so sorry, my sweet child…”

111

Massimo

You promised you wouldn’t leave me…

I love you…

Come back to me…

Lucia’s voice echoed in the darkness…

And was slowly replaced with the sound of slow, steady beeping.

When I opened my eyes, I was looking at a ceiling with acoustic tiles and fluorescent lighting. Off to the side, sunlight streamed in from behind floor-length curtains.

Then I heard the voice I loved.

“Oh my god… you’re awake…”

I looked over to see Lucia stand up from a chair next to me. She was no longer wearing the blood-flecked white dress she’d had in the tower, but a pretty blouse and skirt.

And she was smiling ear to ear as her eyes filled with tears.

“Hey, baby,” I croaked. My lips and mouth felt dry.

Lucia leaned over the metal railing of a hospital bed and kissed me passionately on the lips.

When she pulled away, I gently touched the side of her face. I was concerned – the black eye she’d had when I saw her at the bell tower was beginning to turn yellow and green.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She laughed and clasped my hand with both of hers. “I am now. Hold on – I have to tell the others you’re awake!”

She frantically kissed me once more, like she couldn’t bear to tear herself away from me –

Then ran to the hospital room door, flung it open, and shouted into the hall, “HE’S AWAKE!”

Then she ran giddily back to my side and tenderly touched my face.

“How long was I out?” I asked.

“All night. They operated on you after the island, and you’ve been sleeping ever since.”

I heard the sound of footsteps, and Lucia stepped aside so I could see who it was.

There was Adriano and Lars, who I expected…

But the others shocked me.

Dario…

Alessandra…

Niccolo…

And the Widow, who came swishing in wearing one of her long, black, starched dresses.

Bianca came in, too, and Adriano wrapped an arm around her.

“Oh, wow,” I said, surprised.

“‘Oh, wow’?” Niccolo joked. “The conquering hero wakes up after defeating death – and his first words are ‘Oh, wow’?”

“Actually,” Lucia beamed, “they were, ‘Hey, baby.’”

“Much more romantic,” Niccolo agreed.

“I just didn’t expect to see you all here,” I said.

Dario approached the bed and grabbed my hand in both of his. My big brother was normally stoic, but I could see the barely contained emotion behind his smile. “I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to Papa… so there was no way I was going to risk that again.”

I arched an eyebrow. “That bad, huh?”

“Aaaaah, he’s just being dramatic,” Adriano said.

“Not too dramatic,” Lars said. “You were shot 17 times.”

I stared at him. “…what?!”

“Now who’s being dramatic?” Niccolo quipped. “Yes, you were shot 17 times… but only three bullets got through. We’re going to have to send a fruit basket to Signor Guillardo.”

“I think something a little better than that,” Alessandra said reproachfully.

“Okay… a gold-plated fruit basket,” Niccolo relented.

Alessandra bent down and kissed me on the cheek. “You scared us.”

“Ah… it was nothing,” I said, and smiled at my other sister-in-law. “Bianca went through a lot worse when she saved my life.”

Bianca smiled and gripped my hand. “I didn’t get shot 17 times, though.”

“Yes, don’t downplay how incredibly brave you were,” Lucia scolded me. “You were amazing.”

Then she leaned down and kissed my lips softly.

When she stood back up, the Widow cocked an eyebrow. “Massimo… where is my granddaughter, and who is this young woman you’ve replaced her with?”

“Cut it out, Nona,” Lucia said, though she was smiling.

“Not that I’m not happy to see all of you,” I said, “but where are Roberto and Valentino?”

I noticed that Alessandra stiffened and looked unhappy.

“Both of them send their regards,” Niccolo said. “Roberto is on his way back from Hong Kong – he should be here within a few hours. And Valentino is in Sicily. We’ll see him soon enough.”

“Sicily?” I asked. “Is he meeting with them like I met with Signora Fioretti?”

Alessandra seemed to get even more irritated by the question.

Dario tried to put his arm around her, but she pulled away coldly.

Niccolo ignored the drama and gave me a plastic smile. “You could say that.”

I could tell something was wrong. I was just about to ask what it was when the Widow interrupted.

“Hopefully it doesn’t go quite the way our meeting did,” she said drily.

“Let’s hope,” I agreed. Then I looked over at Adriano. “Are you okay? You looked pretty rough when you came up the stairs at the bell tower.”

“Eh…” He shrugged as he patted his side. I noticed his shirt was more filled out than usual, like there were bandages underneath. “Got shot a couple of times, re-busted a couple of ribs. Been there, done that.”

“I’m sorry…”

He burst out laughing. “What the fuck are you talking about?! You were the one who led the charge – the only reason any of us walked out alive was because you rushed in like a crazy man and took 17 bullets for us.”

“Ham,” Lucia said.

I looked up, not understanding why she was using the English word for pork. “What?”

“H, A, M. It’s a Jay-Z song. Hard As a Motherfucker.”

“Lucia,” the Widow scolded her – but everyone else burst out laughing.

“I knew I liked her,” Adriano said with an approving grin.

“What about you?” I asked Lars. “Are you okay?”

“I had the easiest job of all,” he said modestly. “I only had to take one shot.”

“Well,” Lucia said, “it was a fucking important one.”

“Lucia!” the Widow said primly. “Language!”

“Nona, give me a break!” Lucia complained as everyone else laughed again.

“What about our other guys?” I asked.

Lars looked grim. “Fourteen dead. The rest were wounded.”

A silence fell over the room.

Fourteen dead…

I thought of poor Lorenzo lying in the gravel, dying from Zollner’s bullet to his chest.

“I would like to contribute to the families of the fallen,” the Widow said to Dario. “And to the others who lived… who helped save my granddaughter.”

Dario bowed his head slightly in a sign of respect. “We’ll take care of them, but anything additional you wish to give them would be a very kind gesture. Thank you.”

“Wait – how did none of us get arrested?” I asked.

The Widow answered. “Once the police found out that the men who kidnapped my granddaughter were Wagner mercenaries, I was able to persuade them to classify the event as a terrorist attack. A few well-placed ‘donations’ persuaded them to look the other way on the elite private organization I hired to secure her safe return.”

“You hear that?” Niccolo joked as he pointed at me. “You’re part of an elite private organization.”

“I thought that’s what we always were,” Adriano chimed in.

“What happened after the bell tower?” I asked.

Niccolo gestured around the room. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No, I mean… you’re here,” I said to Niccolo. “So is everything safe now?”

“Signora Fioretti has reestablished control over Venice,” Dario said diplomatically, “and invited us here as her honored guests.”

“Does that mean the mercenaries surrendered?”

The Widow scoffed. “More like turned tail and ran.”

“We killed everybody on the island,” Lars said. “When the ones on the boats heard their boss was dead, they decided to make a hasty retreat.”

Niccolo gave me the evil eye. “About that part where their boss was dead…”

“…what?” I asked innocently, although I knew what was coming.

“You could have let him live.”

“I think he did exactly the right thing,” Adriano said.

“Yes, well, you enjoy shooting people we could otherwise use as bargaining chips,” Niccolo said sardonically. Then he turned back to me. “If we had Aurelio, we could have forced Fausto to the bargaining table.”

The Widow snorted derisively. “You honestly believe a man who would betray his own blood would drop all his plans because his son failed him and was captured?”

Niccolo knew better than to argue with the most powerful mafiosa in all of Italy. “I’m just saying…”

“Sometimes,” I said, “it’s better to set a fearsome example.”

The Widow looked at me with an approving smile and nodded slightly.

Niccolo glanced at the two of us and knew something was up.

“…perhaps,” he grumbled.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dario said. “Our brother is alive and Lucia is safe. Our families are whole. That’s all I care about.”

“Speaking of family…” I said, then frowned. I looked up at Adriano. “My clothes – ”

“I remembered,” he said with a grin as he pulled something out of his pocket. “Once they took them off you, I made sure to grab it.”

He handed me the small box.

“Thanks, man,” I said.

“Don’t mention it.”

“Signora Fioretti,” I said to the Widow, “I would like to ask your blessing for the hand of your granddaughter in marriage.”

The entire room gasped.

Dario and Niccolo, in particular, looked at the old woman, worried how this might play out.

Lucia regarded her grandmother with both fear and excitement shining in her eyes.

The Widow stood up straight and smiled slightly. “I give you my blessing… and I welcome you into my family as my grandson.”

Everyone in the room broke out in a cheer.

I opened the box. Inside was a fairly close match for the toy ring I had given Lucia in the grocery store…

Except on this one, the band was really gold, and the stone was an actual ruby. Adriano had raided our mother’s old jewelry boxes for something that came close.

“Lucia Fioretti… I love you – will you ma– ”

Lucia burst into tears before I even finished.

“Yes – yes – YES!” she cried out as she leaned over and kissed me on the mouth.

Everyone in the room clapped and cheered.

When Lucia pulled away, I took the ring out of the box.

“Now we can replace the other one,” I said as I reached out –

She jerked her hand back like she’d touched a hot stove. “NO. I’m never giving this up.”

“But – ”

She smiled down at me through her tears. “It’s a reminder of the happiest day of my life. Well… the second happiest day, now.”

I grinned back at her and slipped the ring on her finger next to its more modest twin.

She leaned down and kissed me again.

Everyone else cheered and clapped some more – except for the Widow.

“Two rings?” she asked, perplexed. “Did I miss something?”

“I… kind of already proposed to her a few days ago,” I explained.

“I see,” the Widow said. “Well, that’s very – ”

“Nona,” Lucia warned.

“I was going to say, ‘Romantic,’” the old lady replied. “Come here.”

Lucia smiled, then walked over and hugged her grandmother.

“We have a wedding to plan!” Alessandra said happily.

“It’ll have to wait,” Niccolo said. “We have another one to attend first.”

“What? What are you talking about?” I asked.

I noticed that Alessandra straightened up again. Both her face and her body language grew cold.

Niccolo glanced over at her and sighed, then looked back at me. “As soon as you can travel, we need to go to Sicily.”

“Why?”

“Because Valentino’s getting married there.”

I frowned in surprise. “To that girl who works in the kitchen? What’s her name – Caterina?”

Alessandra looked away, her face furious.

“No,” Niccolo said quietly. “It’s an arranged marriage – to the daughter of the Cosa Nostra family that runs Sicily.”

Pre-order MAFIA KINGS: LARS now for the special price of $2.99!

LARS will cover the three weeks while Massimo was with Lucia.

(Don’t mind the release date on the Amazon book page – I’ll publish the book as soon as I finish writing it.)

After that will be ROBERTO, where we discover what he’s been up to in Hong Kong…

Followed by VALENTINO, where we’ll find out all about that arranged marriage.

MASSIMO EPILOGUE

If you’re already on my email list, you can download the Epilogue for Massimo here! You’ll be prompted to enter your email address to make sure you’re on the list.

You can also download the Epilogue for Adriano here.

If you’re not on the mailing list yet, join here and you’ll immediately get the Epilogue for Dario. Then come back here, click the previous links, and you can get the other Epilogues.

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…

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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

Mafia Kings: Lars (Pre-order now)

***

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)