MAFIA KINGS: VALENTINO

DARK MAFIA ROMANCE SERIES #6

OLIVIA THORN

Copyright © 2024 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.

ALSO BY OLIVIA THORN

Mafia Kings: Dario

Mafia Kings: Adriano

Mafia Kings: Massimo

Mafia Kings: Lars

Mafia Kings: Roberto

Mafia Kings: Valentino

Mafia Kings: Niccolo (Pre-order now)

***

AS OLIVIA THORNE

Billionaire Romance

ALL THAT HE WANTS

The Complete Series

***

THE BILLIONAIRE’S KISS

The Complete Series

***

BILLIONARE BAD BOYS

The Billionaire Bad Boys Collection

***

Motorcycle Romance

MIDNIGHT DESIRE

The Complete Series

***

Rockstar Romance

(Careful - cheating, love triangle, Happily For Now ending)

ROCK ME HARD

The Complete Series

1

Caterina

As far back as I can remember, I loved to cook.

My grandmother used to teach me when I was little. I would crack eggs for her, then spend several minutes fishing out the broken shells that always fell in. Nonna would smile and not say anything, but she would always double-check before she combined the eggs with the other ingredients.

I would knead dough with her on the kitchen table, my tiny hands chubby and pink next to her wrinkled ones.

When I was older, she let me cut up the tomatoes, garlic, and onions that formed the base of many of her sauces. The recipes were a family secret passed down from her grandmother.

She taught me how to brown the meat just so… how to tell exactly when to remove the pasta from the boiling water… and how to combine ingredients so that all the flavors blend harmoniously, with no one taste overpowering the others.

I loved my grandmother, and I know she adored me.

Because of her, I have always seen cooking as an act of love.

So I guess it was fitting I met the man of my dreams in a kitchen.

2

Iwas the middle child of five kids. Our house was crazy – total chaos. The only peace I found was with my grandmother in the kitchen. She lived with us and cooked for the entire family.

My father was a bricklayer, and my mother was a schoolteacher. With so many mouths to feed, their salaries didn’t stretch nearly far enough.

My father was very serious. People used to joke that he was more German than Italian.

Always be early. If you’re on time, you’re five minutes late.

You owe your employer your very best efforts.

Never, EVER give less than 100%.

My mother prized getting good grades above everything else.

I was not serious at all, which irked my father – and I was terrible in school, which exasperated my mother.

Me?

I just wanted to cook.

My grandmother passed away when I was 11, and it was the saddest day of my life…

At least for another ten years.

But I kept on cooking and preparing all the family’s meals by myself.

I didn’t mind. I actually loved it. Working in the kitchen made me feel close to Nonna, like she was still with me.

I’ll say one thing: my parents never complained about my cooking. That was the one thing they didn’t criticize about me.

When I hit 12, I developed another obsession:

Boys.

I went boy CRAZY.

All I could think about was the cute boys at school. I would fantasize about kissing them.

I dreamed up ways of getting them to notice me. At first I tried making cannoli for them – hard pastry shells stuffed with sweet ricotta cheese and things like chocolate or nuts. They loved them, but they didn’t do anything but ask me for more cannoli.

When I finally got the attention I craved, it didn’t come from the boys in my own class – but older boys in school.

Much older.

I’m joking! They were only two or three years further along than me.

But they still seemed so worldly and cool.

Some of them even smoked.

Oooooh!

Real bad boys.

And I got plenty of their attention!

All it took was getting boobs.

I ended the school year flat-chested and came back the next fall more developed than every other girl in my grade level. All the older boys came flocking to me after that.

It was uncomfortable dealing with grown men leering at me, which felt icky and gross –

But cute boys a couple years older than me?

Bring it on.

I kissed a boy for the first time when I was 13.

I had sex for the first time when I was 14, with my first real boyfriend.

It was all downhill from there.

Sex and cooking and cute boys… that was all I could think about. Which distressed my parents to no end.

I kept my romantic activities secret by sneaking out at night. I’d learned from the best.

My older sister snuck out for years before she got married. She got pregnant at 18 from her boyfriend, which – since my parents were devout Catholics – meant automatic marriage. Her boyfriend would’ve been a dead man otherwise.

My sister was a huge cautionary tale for me. I knew I didn’t want to settle down yet, so I sure as hell couldn’t get pregnant. As a result, I always used condoms, and I got on birth control as soon as I could, just to be sure.

Anyway, my older sister had doled out a constant stream of candy to me and my sister so we wouldn’t snitch on her. Once she moved out, the candy stopped. But when I started sneaking around, I had to bribe my younger sister again, who demanded her cut every Friday afternoon. I used to tell her she was worse than the mafia about getting her ‘payments.’

I could hide my sneaking around… but I couldn’t hide my terrible report cards.

My mother and father both yelled at me non-stop, telling me I was ruining my life. But I already knew I didn’t want to go to university. University was for people who wanted to read and study – to become doctors, lawyers, scientists, engineers…

Bleh.

In Italy, if you don’t want to go to university, you choose a profession while you’re a teenager and go to a school specifically for that. You basically choose your life path when you’re 15.

I went to a high school for the hospitality industry – an istituto professionale. That was the closest I could get to being able to cook all the time.

However, if my parents had told me there would be tons more cute guys at university, I might have done better in school.

My parents eventually found out about my ‘extracurricular activities.’ We lived in a small town, and people talked. Probably some boys bragged about sleeping with me, their parents overheard, they started gossiping about it, and then some busybody decided to inform my parents.

“I have to hear from other people that my daughter’s the town slut?!” my father raged.

That stunned me.

One, that he’d found out –

And two, that he would ever call me that.

It was horrible to hear him say it.

Not to mention it was totally unfair. Yes, I’d slept with a few more guys than other girls had – but almost everyone in my class was hooking up. It’s not like I was the lone sinner in a sea of saints. And I wasn’t sleeping with just anybody. Most of the time I had boyfriends, and I was always faithful to them while we were dating.

I just tended not to stay in relationships long. I got bored easily.

But once my parents knew, they clamped down hard. I couldn’t sneak out anymore at night, which sucked donkey balls.

My parents always compared me unfavorably to my brothers and sisters – my grades, my behavior, the way I dressed – but one day my mother said something that took the cake.

“Why can’t you be more like your sister and marry a nice boy?” she wailed.

“What, you mean the sister who snuck out just like I did, but got knocked up by one of the guys she was banging?” I said angrily.

My mother slapped me in the face.

I stared at her, stunned –

Then ran back to the bedroom I shared with my little sister and burst into tears.

Nonna would have never done that, I thought. Nonna NEVER would have hit me.

At that moment, I vowed to move out as soon as I possibly could.

I graduated a few months later at 17. By the way, all Italians who aren’t on the university track graduate at 17. It’s not like I did anything impressive.

As soon as school was over, I went looking for a job so I could get the hell out of my parents’ house.

The problem was that I came from a small town in Tuscany, the vast countryside in central Italy. Our town wasn’t a tourist attraction, so there wasn’t a lot of work in the restaurant business.

That’s why I moved to Florence, the nearest big city with tons of tourists.

My parents were happy to see me go. They made a lot of snarky comments about my sex life, but I just ignored them.

I was overjoyed to move to Florence. I lived with two roommates in a tiny apartment, but it was still less cramped than my family’s house.

And I could date as many cute guys as I wanted. And there were plenty of cute guys in Florence.

I went to parties and discos, drank too much, had fun with boys –

Everything was awesome. Except for one thing.

No good restaurants in Florence would hire me as a cook. Sure, I could work in a tourist trap and make 2000 gallons of spaghetti per day – but I didn’t want that. I wanted to work in a really good restaurant.

I didn’t mind chopping vegetables for two years and working my way up, but that wasn’t even a possibility. Everybody I interviewed with said I had to go to a fancy culinary institute first.

I told them I’d already learned how to cook from my grandmother, but they all laughed in my face.

Every girl who comes in here learned how to cook from her grandmother. You need more than THAT.

I didn’t have the money for a culinary institute, and I couldn’t ask my parents.

More accurately, I WOULDN’T ask my parents. I didn’t want to owe them anything or give them any sort of control over my life again.

Besides, I already knew they wouldn’t give me a cent. They’d say that if they gave me money, they’d be supporting my ‘loose lifestyle.’

The reality was they didn’t have any money to spare, anyway.

So I worked crappy jobs making 2000 gallons of spaghetti a day and tried to save my money to go to a culinary institute.

Unfortunately, I was as good at saving as I’d been at school.

I tried – I really did! It’s just that what little money I had left over every month magically disappeared.

For the first three years in Florence, life was great… until it wasn’t anymore.

I felt trapped in my horrible job.

I had fun with boys, but I never fell in love.

I began to get depressed…

And then one random bit of information changed my life forever.

I was visiting my parents for Christmas (always a fun time as they nagged and criticized me endlessly) when Aunt Giovanna came over for a drink.

Giovanna wasn’t my real aunt but my mom’s best friend. I’d known her all my life, and she treated me like her own daughter. And she wasn’t nearly as critical as my own mother.

Plus she had a bawdy sense of humor, which I loved.

As she was sitting there at our kitchen table, she bit into one of the pastries I’d made. That was what I did when I came home: I did all the cooking and baking for my family. I enjoyed it, and it (usually) kept my parents off my back.

“Mmf,” she moaned, her eyes rolling back into her head. “Caterina, your cooking is better than sex.”

I laughed.

Momma cried out indignantly, “Giovanna!”

“Well, it is. At least better than sex with Federico.” Federico was her husband of 30 years; they quarreled all the time. “When I can even get it, it’s over in three minutes – but I could eat your pastries all night.”

I laughed even harder. Momma scolded Giovanna some more.

“Tell me, piccolina,” Giovanna said, using the nickname she’d called me since I was a baby. It meant very small one. “Are you conquering the restaurant business in Florence?”

I snorted. “Hardly. I have a crappy job at a tourist joint that pays me minimum wage.”

“Well, if it’s money you want, my sister told me she heard the Rosolinis are hiring for their kitchen.”

Everyone in town knew about the Rosolinis. They were the richest family in Tuscany and lived about 30 minutes away from my town.

The Rosolinis lived in a palace – or so said the handful of men lucky enough to have done odd jobs on the property. The men would gossip about it over glasses of grappa in the town square, insisting that the mansion rivaled the Vatican in its splendor.

It had to be an exaggeration… but I was always curious about how big an exaggeration.

However, it was widely known that the Rosolinis were mafiosos.

There wasn’t any proof, exactly. They didn’t extort money from local businesses, which is what you would expect out of the mafia.

But the patriarch of the family was known as il Mostro – ‘the monster’ – because of stories about how he’d had some people killed 20 years ago.

Why, nobody knew for sure. But everybody would nod their heads knowingly and say, Mafia.

Several years ago, it was in all the newspapers that the oldest son went to jail for bribing judges in Florence.

He took the fall for il Mostro, everybody said. Mafia.

So the Rosolinis were not only rich…

They were dangerous.

As soon as she said they were hiring, my mother hissed, “Giovanna!”

“What?” Giovanna exclaimed indignantly. “That’s what my sister said!”

“No daughter of mine is going to work for – for them!” my mother snapped.

She couldn’t even bring herself to say the word ‘mafia.’

But I was intrigued.

Hesitant, yes –

But if I could make a lot more money than what I was making now –

And actually cook in a rich family’s kitchen?

I knew I had to find out more.

When Aunt Giovanna hugged me goodbye later that night, I whispered, “How would I apply for that job you mentioned?”

She gave me a sly smile. “I’ll ask my sister. She knows all the gossip.”

3

And that was how I got an interview with the Rosolinis.

An old boyfriend of mine who still lived in town (and who I occasionally still hooked up with when we were both single) drove me out into the countryside for the interview.

Using Google Maps, we turned down a small road bordered by tall, thin cedar trees, then drove until we reached a massive stone wall with iron gates.

We sat there in his car, wondering what the hell we should do, when a voice blared out of a speaker on the wall.

“State your business.”

The voice was so loud that we could hear it clearly through our rolled-up windows.

I opened the car door and stepped out timidly into the freezing winter air.

“I’m – I’m here for the job in the kitchen,” I called out nervously, my heart thudding in my chest.

“Your name?” the voice snapped.

“C-Caterina Martinelli.”

There was a long pause, and I wondered if I would even get in to do the interview.

Maybe I was going to lose the job before I even got a chance.

Then the voice said, “Stay there. We’re sending someone to get you.”

I helpfully suggested, “My friend could drive me up to the – ”

“STAY. THERE. We’re sending someone to get you.”

I quickly got back in the car, terrified of pissing off the voice any more.

My ex-boyfriend stared at me. He was clearly as nervous as I was. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“No,” I admitted. “But I’d like to see the house, at least.”

We waited for two minutes – and then the gates opened up.

On the other side was a black Mercedes. A man in a black suit and white shirt got out of the passenger side and motioned to me.

I got out of my ex’s car.

As I started walking towards the Mercedes, my ex rolled down his window and stuck his head out. “What about me?”

“Wait here,” the man in the black suit said.

“Just – out here?” my ex said, a bit surprised and definitely annoyed.

“Yes.”

“What if somebody comes up behind me? Or wants to leave from your direction?”

“Then get out of the way.”

“It’s okay,” I reassured my ex. Although I sounded so nervous, I doubt he was reassured at all. “I’ll be out soon.”

My ex grumbled and got back in the car.

As I walked over to the man in the suit, the gates closed behind me. I heard them creak and I jumped.

“I need to search you,” the guy said.

“Um… okay…?”

He checked my purse, then gave me a quick pat-down.

“Ooh, I didn’t know this was part of the interview process,” I joked flirtatiously.

He didn’t even crack a smile. He just opened up the rear passenger-side door for me.

O-kaaaay…

I got in meekly without a word.

He shut the door behind me and got back in the car.

The driver did a three-point turn, and we headed up towards the house.

I don’t know that the property was quite as impressive as the Vatican (since I haven’t been to Rome)… but it was still pretty damn amazing.

First we drove past vineyards and orchards. The road sloped upwards, and when we broke out of the trees, I saw it: a gigantic mansion at the top of the hill, three stories tall. It looked old – maybe 500 years old or more.

“Wow,” I murmured.

Neither of the two guys in the front seat said anything.

We reached a circular drive in front of marble steps and a pair of bronze doors.

The guy got out and opened my door. “Let’s go.”

I got out, a little clumsy from my nervousness. As the Mercedes drove off, the man led me up to the bronze doors.

A couple of other guys in identical black suits were lounging around the entrance. If they were mafia, they looked more like they were on a smoke break than keeping guard.

My guide directed me into the house. It was even more amazing on the inside, with thick Persian rugs, crystal chandeliers, and old artwork on the walls.

He led me through a maze of hallways until he pushed back a swinging door to the kitchen –

And what a kitchen it was! There were ancient stone walls, yes, but also marble countertops, an absolutely gigantic island filled with two dozen bowls and glass jars, and lots of sleek, modern appliances.

I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.

A woman stood next to the island, looking at a sheet of paper in her hand. She was tall and imposing in a black dress, and her curly grey hair reached to her shoulders. She looked over at the sound of the door.

“Signora Lombardi,” the man greeted her.

“Thank you, Benvenuto,” she replied. “You may go.”

He nodded, then walked out the door we’d come in through.

“So,” Signora Lombardi said, “you must be Caterina.”

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

“A local girl,” she said – not a question but a statement of fact.

“Yes, ma’am. I live in Florence, but I’m from Castelfiorentino.”

She looked down at the piece of paper in her hand, which I realized was a printout of my résumé. “I’m not familiar with this restaurant you work at.”

“Um… it’s a touristy kind of place.”

“I see.” She sounded the slightest bit contemptuous. “Well, all that really matters is whether you can cook, and I’ll be the judge of that. Here you can see we have bowls full of various ingredients.”

I stepped closer so I could see into the bowls. They were all filled with different things: eggs, flour, onions, garlic, tomatoes, strawberries, lemons, spinach, basil, fennel, spinach, and many other things. There were glass jars filled with dry pasta – long spaghetti, spiral fusilli, and bowtie farfalle, just to name a few. Small bowls had anise, cloves, and other spices. There was a glass pitcher filled with milk and an unlabeled green bottle of olive oil. Salt and pepper shakers made of crystal sat off to the side. Two bottles of wine – one red, one white. And on big marble platters were several different types of cheese – parmesan and ricotta, in particular – and a soft hunk of butter as big as my fist.

“On your résumé, you indicated you could cook over two hundred dishes by memory,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am. My nonna taught me.”

“Well, you have two hours to cook whatever you like using these ingredients and only these ingredients.”

I looked at her in surprise. “You want me to choose?”

She seemed to take my reaction as being unhappy –

When in fact I was overjoyed.

I get to cook in THIS kitchen?!

And whatever I WANT?!

Every day at work, I fixed the same damn thing: marinara sauce with meat. You couldn’t even really call it cooking since I used sauce out of jars. The only thing I did was sauté onions and garlic, combine it with the meat sauce in giant pots, then boil hundreds of pounds of pasta.

“Yes, I want you to choose,” Signora Lombardi said with a hint of annoyance. “If that distresses you, you can exit the interview now if you wish.”

“No, ma’am!” I said happily.

With two hours, I figured I could make a whole meal to knock her socks off.

It was a pity I couldn’t make the pasta from scratch, but that would take more time.

There was just one problem.

“Um… my ride is waiting out by the gate,” I said. “He thought I’d only be in here for half an hour.”

“I’ll have one of our men tell him to go home,” Signora Lombardi said.

“Uh… he might not leave unless I tell him myself.”

Signora Lombardi gave me a tight smile. “Then he can wait.”

I could read between the lines:

Stop bothering me about your little friend.

“Okay,” I said sheepishly.

While Signora Lombardi made a phone call on her cell, I tried a few ingredients and was delighted. The basil was fresh from the garden, and the olive oil was spectacular.

“This tastes like it was just pressed,” I said in wonder.

Signora Lombardi gave me the first hint of a smile. “It’s harvested from the trees on the estate.”

“It’s amazing! By the way, is there any meat?” I asked.

“In the refrigerator.”

After finding some ground beef, I decided to make a nice tagliatelle alla Bolognese, a pasta dish with tomato sauce and beef. Besides the traditional garlic and basil for flavoring, I could use a bit of anise and cloves to really make the sauce pop.

In addition, a simple peasant bread with bits of olive in it would be wonderful fresh from the oven.

And a nice zuccotto, a creamy dessert cake where I could use fresh strawberries as garnish.

Once I figured out where all the pots, pans, and cutlery were, I grabbed an apron and set to work.

Signora Lombardi sat at a nearby breakfast table and worked on a laptop. Occasionally she would glance up and watch me for a moment, then go back to whatever she was doing.

I was in heaven the entire time, doing the thing I loved the most (well, besides sex) in the most beautiful kitchen I’d ever seen. I was a little nervous at the beginning, but mostly I just enjoyed myself.

About an hour and a half into my cooking, there was a noise as the door opened behind me. I was so into my cooking that I didn’t look up –

Until I heard the sexiest voice ever.

Deep and playful, and smooth as the best red wine you can imagine.

“What smells so good? And who’s this that looks so good?”

I turned around in surprise – and gasped.

There stood the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in my entire life.

And not just a boy like the guys I dated back home or in Florence, but a man.

He was tall, probably about 6’2”.

He was built, with broad shoulders. He wore a loose-fitting white linen shirt, so I couldn’t see his body incredibly well, but the neck of the shirt was open fairly low –

And Madonn, what a chest. Sculpted pecs bronzed by the sun, with just the perfect amount of chest hair.

His sleeves were rolled up, too, exposing muscular forearms and big hands.

Like, BIG hands.

Which made me immediately wonder how big something else was.

But it was his face that took my breath away.

He had sculpted cheekbones… a granite jawline… sensual lips… flawless skin… and the most playful brown eyes I’d ever seen. A half-smile pulled at the corner of his incredibly kissable mouth. Several days of scruff made him look sexy as hell. His dark brown hair was wavy and fairly long, and was tousled and wild. He looked like a supermodel who’d just gotten out of bed ready for a photo shoot.

He was more handsome than any movie star or musician I’d ever seen, and my heart skipped a beat.

Not to mention my pussy fluttered with craving.

Sorry! Maybe that’s TMI –

But it did!

As soon as our eyes met, he burst into a grin.

He had a million-dollar smile with perfectly straight, white teeth.

“Hellloooo, signorina,” he said flirtatiously. “That is, I’m hoping it’s signorina.”

Signorina was equivalent to Miss in English – meaning an unmarried woman – versus Signora, which was the same as Mrs.

I blushed furiously, but I grinned right back at him. “Definitely yes.”

That made him grin even wider. “Well, that’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”

His eyes trailed down my body, pausing on my breasts.

I think most women don’t particularly like it when men do that –

But when the hottest guy in the world is undressing you with his eyes, it’s awesome.

His gaze felt like a caress, and I immediately felt my nipples harden.

Along with other parts of my body getting more hot and bothered.

I so wanted to sneak a peek at his crotch – but I restrained myself.

Barely.

“Ahem,” said an annoyed voice.

Signora Lombardi.

I’d forgotten she was there.

The hot guy looked over and flashed her the same charming smile. “Oh, hey, Signora.”

“Hello, Valentino,” the woman greeted him frostily.

Valentino.

Oh my god – it was a perfect name for him.

Be MY Valentine, baby – over and over again, all night long!

“Signorina Martinelli is here interviewing for a job in the kitchen,” the older woman said.“Interviewing, huh? Smells like she’s cooking a feast.” Valentino looked back at me and continued undressing me with his eyes. “So, you got a first name, Signorina Martinelli?”

He was so flirtatious, it was crazy.

I loved it.

“Caterina.”

“Caterina… I like that. As you already heard, I’m Valentino. Nice to meet you.”

He walked over to me, his arm extended – and my heart skipped a beat again.

I’m going to get to touch him!

I caught a whiff of the sexiest men’s cologne I’d ever smelled as he came forward –

And then he took my hand in his.

Ohhhhhhhh…

His hands were so big that they dwarfed mine.

And they were warm… almost hot to the touch.

I could just imagine them all over me… cupping my breasts… reaching between my thighs…

“Remember my name,” he purred, then gave me another wink and that killer smile. “So you can scream it over and over again later on.”

OH MY GOD.

I got wet right then and there.

“Valentino!” Signora Lombardi shouted. “She is here interviewing to be an employee, not one of your little playthings!”

Valentino laughed and put up his hands like Don’t shoot! “Sorry, Signora. Beautiful women just bring out the bad boy in me.”

…beautiful…

…women?

HE THINKS I’M BEAUTIFUL?!

If Valentino had taken my hand and pulled me off to a bedroom – or anywhere else – I would have happily gone with him, no questions asked.

The only part that gave me pause was ‘one of your little playthings.’

Which meant he had a lot of women.

Although with a face and a body like that, it made total sense for him to be a player.

I didn’t care.

I was too caught up in the sight of him – the smell of him – the touch and sound of him.

And I really, really wanted to know what it was like to taste him.

“Leave,” Signora Lombardi ordered.

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled. Then he looked over at me. “See you later… Caterina.”

The way he said my name, it was like he was about to kiss me…

Or was murmuring it between my thighs right before he went down on me.

“Bye,” I said, somewhere between giddy and orgasmic.

He grinned at me one last time, then started for an exit at the other end of the kitchen.

I got a good look at his ass as he went –

Oh FUCK.

The most perfect ass that God ever made.

I was so hot and bothered, it was ridiculous.

Then I noticed Signora Lombardi glaring at me.

I quickly turned back to the stove to check on my saucepan.

But I felt something…

A tingle at the back of my neck.

I turned to look over my shoulder –

And caught Valentino checking out my ass as he was about to leave the room.

His eyes raised to mine. Rather than embarrassed at being caught, he seemed mischievously delighted – and gave me one last perfect smile and a wink before he left the room.

Saints help me, I was dripping wet.

Signora Lombardi cleared her throat in irritation, though, and I quickly went back to work.

4

Valentino

Fuuuuuck.

You ever have a moment when you know your entire life just changed?

Meeting Caterina for the first time was like that for me.

One minute I was walking down the hall, when I smelled something amazing in the kitchen and walked in to check it out.

The next, I was staring into the eyes of a seriously cute girl –

And something just clicked.

It felt like an invisible spark of static electricity – but all pleasure, no pain.

I didn’t know why I reacted that way, exactly.

She wasn’t the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen…

But there was just something about her that made me want her. Badly.

Not to brag, but I get a lot of chicks. Between my looks and my family’s money, I kind of have my pick.

Usually I go for club girls. You know – thin Instagram models who only eat salads and have a cocaine problem.

I’d had enough of them over the last few years. In fact, I was bored with them. They all blurred into one another.

Caterina was nothing like that. She was 100% the girl next door.

Cute rather than hot…

A few extra pounds instead of rail-thin…

But Madonn, those curves.

She had a killer rack straining against her blouse. And real, too – not fake tits like most of the girls I slept with.

But her eyes…

They were open… and trusting… and kind.

So unlike the calculation I felt from the girls I dated.

I wonder how rich he is?

How expensive a purse can I get him to buy me?

Not to mention I got the feeling – just a feeling – that Caterina had a wild side.

Maybe it was the way she stared at me openly, not looking away like most girls trying to play hard to get.

I could tell she wanted me, too, and that made me want her all the more.

And the fact that she could cook?

Madonn. Absolute heaven.

So I turned the charm up to 11…

And the sex appeal to 12.

You should’ve seen the look she gave me when I hit her with the line, Remember my name so you can scream it over and over again later on. I think she creamed her panties.

I probably could have pulled her right then and there if it hadn’t been for Signora Lombardi cock-blocking me.

So I just left her wanting more, which was good.

Because I definitely wanted more.

In fact, as I left, I checked out her ass.

Holy mother of God.

Her ass… FUCK.

Big… firm… round… delicious…

Too many of the Instagram models I dated had flat asses. Some did squats in the gym to get a booty – but they had nothing on Caterina.

All I could think of was bending her over the island, grabbing her ass with both hands, and watching my cock disappear as I slid inside her.

And then me pounding her…

And her screaming in pleasure.

FUUUUUCK.

I was starting to get hard –

And then she looked over her shoulder and caught me checking out her ass.

I loved it.

She was obviously looking around to see if I was looking at her.

I gave her a wink and a smile as I walked out the door.

Right then and there, I decided she had to get hired so I could see her again.

Actually, I was planning to do a lot more than just see her.

5

Caterina

Iimmediately went back to my cooking. But as I put the finishing touches on everything, I imagined that I was cooking it all for Valentino…

That I was seducing him with my cooking.

That once he tasted my food, he would take me to bed and ravish me all night long.

I guess it worked, because when I finally dished everything up for Signora Lombardi, she tried a bite of the tagliatelle alla Bolognese and her eyes widened.

“Oh – oh, that’s good,” she murmured.

Then she tried a slice of the bread, with its crackly outside and soft, pillowy inside. She tried it by itself without any olive oil or butter – and her eyes widened again.

“Mmf,” she said, her mouth full as she chewed.

It was a good ‘mmf.’

Finally, she tried a bite of the zuccotto.

This time her eyes closed and she made a face like the love of her life had just slipped his cock inside her.

“Mmmmm,” she moaned with her mouth closed.

I really hoped Aunt Giovanna was right when she said my cooking was better than sex.

“Mm… very good. Excellent,” she said as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Better than I’ve had in many Michelin-starred restaurants.”

I beamed like a five-year-old at Christmas.

“If it were up to me, I would hire you in an instant,” Signora Lombardi said.

My smile fell.

“…but it’s not up to you?” I asked, crestfallen.

She smiled sympathetically. “There’s someone else you need to talk to first.”

The next part of the interview was far scarier.

Signora Lombardi took me to a parlor near the front door of the mansion. Inside was a dark wood-paneled room filled with leather chairs. Bottles of expensive booze sat on a bar by the wall, and the faint scent of cigar smoke lingered in the air.

A guy was working on a sofa, sorting through sheets of paper laid out on a coffee table in front of him. He was dressed in a light blue dress shirt, although it was open at the neck and untucked over his expensive dress pants.

He looked like he could have been Valentino’s brother, except he was several years older, clean-cut, and more slender than muscular.

And not as hot.

Definitely very, very cute…

Just not as hot as my dream boy.

“Signor Rosolini,” Signora Lombardi said. “This is the new prospect I was telling you about – Caterina Martinelli.”

The guy looked up, locked eyes with me, and gave me a charming smile.

“Ciao, bella! Call me Niccolo. Please – sit,” he said, motioning towards a chair opposite him.

I looked at Signora Lombardi, who gave me an encouraging nod. I sat down and watched nervously as she walked out of the parlor and closed the door behind her.

“Relax, relax! You’re very tense. A drink, perhaps?” Niccolo offered.

I could have used one, but I thought it might not be wise to booze it up in front of my prospective employer. “Um… no, thank you.”

He gave me a wry smile and waggled his finger at me. “Good – good! That was a test. A little one. Don’t need people drinking on the job. You passed. In fact, you can stop worrying – you practically have the job. Signora Lombardi was effusive in her praise for your cooking. I can’t wait to taste some of your dishes.”

The words were quite complimentary, and I forced a smile –

But one word stood out in particular.

“…practically?” I asked.

“Well, there is the matter of the background check,” Niccolo said. “You don’t have a criminal record, do you?”

“Oh, no,” I said, extremely grateful that the cops had let me and my friends off after that drunken party in Florence a year ago.

He grinned. “I already knew that. We checked you out before you even stepped foot on the property. But I need to ask you a few questions.”

I swallowed hard. “Okay.”

He leaned back, his arms flung out on either side and resting on the top of the sofa, and fixed me with a piercing gaze.

“What have you heard about my family?” he asked in a casual tone.

Oh shit.

“Um… that you had a palace…”

Niccolo laughed.

“I don’t know that I’d call it that, but it’s nice to hear that’s the word on the street.” Then he stopped laughing, and his smile faded. “I meant specifically about my family, though. And I urge you to be completely and totally honest with me.”

Oh shit. Oh SHIT.

“I…”

He cocked his head to the side and waited, never taking his eyes off me.

“That… you’re…”

I trailed off.

“Yes?” he said as he raised his eyebrows.

I couldn’t answer him and look him in the eye at the same time.

“…that you’re mafia,” I whispered.

There was a long silence…

And then Niccolo burst out laughing again.

I looked up in surprise.

“You look so nervous, bella,” he said. “Don’t worry – I’m well aware of the rumors about my family. Let me assure you, they’re just that: rumors. We’re importers and exporters. We deal in wine and olive oil. We have one business here, another business there. What we are not, however, is anything having to do with organized crime. So you can relax.”

I did relax. He seemed so friendly… so charming…

And then his smile turned a bit cold.

“However… there is one thing we demand from everyone who works for us, and that’s an oath to uphold our privacy. We don’t quite have a palace, but – as I think you’ve guessed – my family is quite wealthy. And that makes us targets. For con men, grifters, thieves, thugs… that’s why you might occasionally see men with guns on the property. They’re our bodyguards. We’ve been robbed before, you see. In fact, the government robs us every year on tax day,” he said, chuckling at his little joke. “But anyway, we expect complete confidentiality and discretion from our employees. No telling anyone about what goes on here. No gossip, no stories, nothing. Not to your parents… not even to your boyfriend.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I said truthfully.

A lot of exes, but no current boyfriends.

“Well, good – one less person to tempt you, then!” he said cheerfully. “We’ll have you sign a pile of NDAs – that’s Non-Disclosure Agreements – but I wanted to be sure there was nothing that might prevent you from maintaining my family’s… secrets, you might say.”

His gaze wasn’t exactly threatening…

But it wasn’t friendly, either.

There was an implied threat in everything he was telling me.

He was trying to make sure I got the message without having to say it out loud:

Snitches wind up in ditches.

I was pretty sure the Rosolinis were mafia.

Niccolo was subtly letting me know that they were… and was that going to be a problem?

Now, I didn’t know anything about the mafia other than what I’d seen in movies and heard from gossip in my town.

Normally, I would have run away out of fear –

But I hated my life in Florence.

And if I could get a job somewhere like this, cooking for a living, then I’d do just about anything Niccolo required.

Especially if there was going to be a certain incredibly handsome man dropping by the kitchen now and then.

“I won’t tell anyone,” I promised.

“Good – good!” Niccolo said, then clapped his hands together. “You’ll live here on the estate in the house – ”

“I will?!” I asked, shocked.

“Yes, you’ll get your own room! It’s quite small, I’m afraid, but you’ll have access to the grounds when you’re not working. It’s quite beautiful here. I’ll arrange for one of our bodyguards to take you on a tour if you like. Now, unfortunately, no matter how great a cook Signora Lombardi says you are, there’s a bit of a hierarchy in the kitchen – and I don’t want to be poisoned by your jealous co-workers,” he joked. “So you’ll be starting out on breakfast and lunch, where you’ll aid the main cook in meal prep. Eventually you’ll move up, but that might take a while.”

“I’m fine with that,” I said, and I was. I would’ve cut onions and garlic for years in a top restaurant if I could’ve only gotten a chance to be a chef.

“Good! So, in addition to room and board, I believe my brother Roberto said we could offer you – ” He checked a piece of paper on the table. “Four thousand euros. Yes, that’s correct.”

“Four thousand a year?” I asked in disbelief.

I mean, I knew they were going to give me room and board in a gigantic mansion, but 4000 euros was practically nothing.

Niccolo frowned. “What? No – good God, no. Four thousand a month.”

I stared at him in shock.

I made 1500 euros a month at my current job.

They were going to pay me nearly three times that amount.

And to live in a palace!

With an insanely hot guy nearby!

When I didn’t say anything for ten seconds, Niccolo prompted me with, “Signorina Martinelli?”

“Oh – I’m sorry – that’s – that’s wonderful,” I exclaimed.

“Good! I’m glad it’s to your liking. You do realize that your paycheck is less about your job in the kitchen, and more about the confidentiality that we discussed earlier, correct?” he asked, with just a hint of a menacing tone beneath his cheerful words.

Now it was all out in the open:

I was being paid for my silence.

They were absolutely mafia – or something similar.

But again:

Dead-end job back in Florence. No hope of achieving my dream.

Versus living in a mansion and cooking for my job.

I just had one question.

“I understand,” I said. “Um… is Valentino related to you?”

Niccolo looked taken aback – then got a dark look on his face. “Yes, he’s my youngest brother. I take it you met him?”

The brother part was great!

It meant that the hottest guy I’d ever seen probably lived in the mansion, too!

But I was afraid Niccolo was angry at me. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to talk to the family or something.

“In the kitchen,” I said meekly.

“He hasn’t sexually harassed you already, has he?” Niccolo asked, and I suddenly realized the source of his displeasure.

I wanted to say, I don’t think it’s sexual harassment if you really, REALLY want to fuck the guy.

But that would have been career suicide.

Hey, new mafia boss, I really want to bang your little brother.

Instead, I said, “No – not at all!”

“Hmph,” Niccolo grunted. “Give it time.”

I was hoping I wouldn’t have to give it too much time.

As it turned out, I didn’t.

6

Valentino

Istopped by the kitchen later, hoping Caterina would be there.

She wasn’t – but the delicious smell of her cooking still lingered in the air.

I didn’t see anything, though. The kitchen staff was beginning to prepare lunch, and they must have put Caterina’s food away.

“Would you like me to fix you something, sir?” Nuncio asked. He was the 40-something head chef on the breakfast and lunch shift.

“There was a girl in here earlier cooking something. What happened to the food?”

“We packed it up and put it in the refrigerator. But she was just an interviewee – I’m sure it wasn’t that good. I can cook you a steak if you like – ”

“No, I want to try her food. Fix me a plate, will you?”

Nuncio looked annoyed, but then he gave me a fake smile. “Certainly, sir.”

He had one of the other workers spoon some pasta and sauce out into a bowl and heat it in the microwave, then cut me some bread and put out a plate with a slice of zuccotto.

I tried the pasta.

Holy shit it was good.

Then I tried the bread, dipping it in some olive oil.

Fuck – it was even better.

And last I tried the cake.

I’d never had a dessert give me an orgasm before, but that slice of zuccotto almost did.

“Holy shit – this is incredible!” I exclaimed, then asked the kitchen staff, “Did any of you try it?”

“As I said, sir, she was an interviewee,” Nuncio said contemptuously. “And with no formal training, I might add. I’m glad you liked her food, but I doubt it would meet my standards.”

I wanted to say, Maybe you should pull that stick out of your ass and try this instead –

But I ignored him and immediately went up to Roberto’s office on the second floor. He was plinking away at his keyboard, staring at his screen like always.

I swear to God, if Roberto could fuck spreadsheets, he’d be the happiest man on the planet.

“Hey – are you the one who’s deciding who to hire for the kitchen?” I asked.

Roberto glanced over at me, then went back to his computer. “I’m not handling any of that. I just gave the salary info to Niccolo.”

“So Niccolo interviewed them?”

“Yes.”

Great.

Niccolo was a fuckin’ hardass – the worst of my brothers if you wanted to get something out of him.

Dario was really cool. It sucked that I hadn’t seen him in nearly four years – not since he’d gone to San Vittore, the shithole prison where he got sent after taking a fall for Papa and Uncle Fausto.

To be honest, I was in awe of Dario. He was a total badass. And he was going to be Don someday, after Papa – everybody knew it.

But the awesome thing was that he was going to get out in six months.

I was literally counting down the days until we had him back home.

Adriano had a crazy temper, but you just had to know how to handle him. If I just waited out the shouting, he usually calmed down and was like, Fine. Whatever. Do whatever the fuck you want.

Roberto? Roberto didn’t give a shit about anything but finances and stocks and bank accounts. As long as what you wanted wasn’t too expensive, he was cool with it.

Massimo was the most laidback of all. He reminded me of a surfer, just chillin’ and waiting for the next wave. He never, ever gave me a problem. In fact, I probably enjoyed shooting the shit and bantering with him most of all.

But Niccolo…

Niccolo was a prick.

Yeah, okay, he wasn’t a prick all the time. He was actually really funny.

And super smart. Way too fuckin’ smart for his own good, if you asked me.

But if you wanted something from him, and it didn’t match up with what he wanted… god damn he could be a dick about it.

So now I had to go charm the asshole to make sure Caterina got hired.

And I knew just how to do it.

I went into the kitchen and told Nuncio, “Fix me another plate with what that girl cooked earlier. I want Niccolo to try it.”

Nuncio looked like the stick went even further up his rectum, but he forced a smile. “If you insist, sir.”

“I insist.”

He did it, but he definitely wasn’t happy about it.

I went looking for Niccolo and found him in the parlor, looking over some papers.

I caught a hint of perfume in the air as I entered –

And immediately knew Caterina had been in there with him.

I swear to God, just thinking about her turned me on.

Niccolo glanced up at me and made a face. “Oh, look, it’s Casanova, sniffing around for his next conquest.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, right,” he said sarcastically, then noticed I was carrying a plate of food. “What do you have there?”

“There was this girl cooking in the kitchen earlier – ”

“‘I have no IDEA what you’re talking about,’” he said, obviously mimicking me. Then he went back to his normal voice. “Do me a favor and cut the bullshit, will you?”

“What?! She was a really good cook! I want you to try some of her food.”

“Signora Lombardi already told me she was excellent – ”

“Yeah, but you gotta taste this for yourself.”

“I’m not hungry – ”

“Just TASTE it, will you?”

Nic grumbled as I set down the plate in front of him. “Not on the paperwork – Jesus.”

After he’d cleared away his things, he took the fork on the plate and took a bite of the pasta.

His grumpy look immediately turned to surprise.

“Well?” I asked.

“Not bad,” he conceded.

“‘Not bad,’” I said, mocking him back. “Try the bread.”

He bit into the bread –

“Damn,” he said.

“Right? Now try the cake.”

He took a bite –

And went “MMPH!” in ecstasy.

“See?!” I said triumphantly.

He wiped his mouth on the napkin I’d brought him. “You didn’t need to go through this entire act. I already hired her.”

“Oh,” I said, surprised. “Well – good. Now you know you made the right decision.”

Niccolo gave me some side-eye. “And your interest in her has nothing to do with the fact that she’s an attractive girl with certain… ahem… prominent physical attributes.”

“You really shouldn’t talk that way about a new hire,” I deadpanned. “It could get you sued.”

“I appreciate your concern,” he said drily. “Valentino, I’m serious: do not mess with her. It really could result in a sexual harassment lawsuit, which means Uncle Fausto would rain down hell on your head, to say nothing of Papa.”

“I’m not going to touch her,” I lied. “Really – I just think she’s an amazing cook.”

“With large breasts and a pretty face,” he said dourly.

“You forgot her amazing ass,” I joked.

“Valentino – ” he warned.

“I won’t lay a finger on her. When does she start work?”

“Next week – which means we won’t get sued for at least a week and a half.” Niccolo scrunched up his face. “If you’re not going to touch her, then I want you to swear to it.”

I started backing my way out of the room. “So, I gotta go do this thing – ”

“Valentino,” he snapped.

“There’s more of her food in the fridge if you want it,” I said as I opened the door. “But you’ll have to hurry ‘cause I think I might go eat the rest of it.”

“Valentino – ”

“See ya!” I said as I exited the room.

“VALENTINO!” he yelled as I closed the door. “Do NOT make me regret hiring her!”

Whether Niccolo would ever regret hiring her…

I was damn sure I wouldn’t.

7

Caterina

Imoved into the Rosolini mansion later that afternoon. The plan had been to wait until next week – after I could retrieve all my clothes from my apartment in Florence – but a couple of things sped up the schedule.

My ex drove me home. The entire time, he complained bitterly about having to wait three hours and being dissed by a bunch of ‘mafia goons.’

“I could’ve taken ‘em,” he boasted.

Yeah. Sure, buddy. Keep dreamin’.

He was even more resentful when I didn’t want to hook up afterwards.

“I drove you all that way and waited around for nothing?!” he fumed.

In the old days I might have given in, but all I could think about now was Valentino.

Why settle for hamburger (my ex) when you could have filet mignon?

He drove off in a huff like a spoiled child when I didn’t give him what he wanted.

When my parents found out where I’d been, they were ten times worse.

My mother saw the gigantic smile on my face and asked what was going on.

“I got a new job,” I announced happily.

When I told her where, she blew her lid and went and got my father.

The two of them started screaming at me about how stupid I was being.

“What kind of a fool goes to work for a mafia family?!”

“You’ll shame us in front of the entire town!”

“Just watch – you’ll end up in a shallow grave somewhere!”

I decided I couldn’t hang around for an entire evening of this, so I shut myself in the bathroom and used my cell phone to call the number Niccolo had given me in case of emergencies.

“Yes?” a man answered on the other end.

Not Niccolo’s voice, and definitely not Valentino’s.

“Uh, hi – I’m Caterina Martinelli. I just got hired this afternoon to work in the kitchen. My parents, are, uh, freaking out. Is there any way someone could come to pick me up, like, right away?”

“Someone will be there in 30 minutes.”

“Thanks. The address is – ”

“We already know the address.”

Then he hung up.

Well, that wasn’t ominous at all.

Still, it was better than the two crazy people screaming at me from the other side of the bathroom door.

I came out, brushed past them, and hurriedly went into my room to pack. I threw everything I had into my suitcase and waited out the screaming until a black Mercedes pulled up in the driveway.

Through the window, I could see a man in a black suit and tie get out of the car and head for the house.

When I lugged my suitcase to the front door, my father stepped in front of me. “If you go out there and get in that car, you’re never coming back in this house again. Do you understand me?”

I glared at him furiously.

Nonna never would have said that to me.

Nonna would have asked me please not to go, and I probably would have listened to her. But even if I didn’t, she would have never threatened to cut me off.

All the years of my parents never supporting me –

Of criticizing me –

Of comparing me to my brothers and sisters –

Of calling me a slut –

All my resentment and quiet suffering came crashing down on me in one single moment.

“Gladly,” I snarled.

My father looked shocked. My mother gasped.

Then my father shook his head in disgust and stepped aside.

My parents at least had the good sense to be quiet when the mafia guy knocked on the door and I opened it.

“I’m ready,” I said.

He took my bag and headed for the car.

I followed him down the walkway, then looked back at my mother and father standing in the open door.

My father was glaring at me hatefully.

My mother looked both heartbroken and disgusted.

Then my father slammed the door shut.

In contrast, the guy in the black suit held the rear car door open for me.

With a heavy heart, I got in the Mercedes, and we drove away.

In the months to come, I Facetimed my little sister occasionally on my phone…

But that was the last time I ever saw my parents.

8

Isettled into my new life pretty quickly.

I got my own room for the first time ever! As Niccolo had said, it was tiny – a twin bed in the servants’ quarters, with little more than a dresser and a wardrobe – but it was mine.

I told Niccolo about my clothes in Florence, and he arranged for a guy to go pick up my things. I called my roommates to warn them and to say goodbye. They were happy for me, but they all told me to come back as soon as I could so we could all go clubbing.

That was the hardest part: giving up my friends in Florence. I didn’t mind not seeing my family at all… but my friends were another matter entirely.

The first week on the job was easy but tough at the same time.

Easy because it didn’t require me to learn anything new or do anything crazy. I knew how to chop fruits and vegetables, which was 90% of my job.

But it was hard because the other kitchen staff were kind of assholes to me.

There were both men and women, and they were all much older than me – most of them in their 40s or 50s – and had a very set way of doing things.

I was the new kid, the intruder, and they treated me brusquely and kept me at arm’s length. They definitely didn’t let me cook anything.

Signora Lombardi was pleasant towards me, but I rarely saw her. She ran things behind the scenes – ordering food, scheduling people, and making sure everything ran smoothly.

Also, I had to get up at 5AM every morning to do kitchen prep for breakfast and lunch. So it was just me in the huge, dark kitchen for an hour and a half. All alone… peeling potatoes, cutting up onions, and slicing fruit.

I was very lonely. Not just in the mornings, but all the time.

And bored. SO bored.

Even worse, I never saw Valentino. I looked for him constantly, but I never saw him anywhere in the house.

Which sucked. Seeing him again was one of the things I was most looking forward to… and one of the reasons I was so excited about the job.

I know that’s crazy. Some hot guy I didn’t have a shot with had flirted with me, and I took a job partly just so I could see him again.

But it was still how I felt.

I began to wonder if I’d made a terrible mistake.

No roommates, no going out, no partying, no hot guy, no sex.

I felt like I was going crazy.

In fact, I began to wonder if I should quit and just go back to Florence.

Then something happened that completely changed my mind.

It was 5:30 AM and I was yawning my way through food prep, trying to wake myself up with a double shot of espresso.

That was at least one great thing. They had a super-expensive coffee maker that made the best cappuccinos and espressos I’d ever tasted.

Then the door banged open and he walked in.

Valentino.

I looked up and stared at him in shock.

He was wearing club clothes: a tight, black silk shirt open at the neck… black pants… and expensive leather shoes. He’d obviously been out all night and was coming back just now.

As soon as he saw me, he stopped in his tracks, stunned.

Then a big grin appeared on his face. “Well, hello.”

9

Valentino

I’d been in Florence for almost a week doing shit for Uncle Fausto.

Ever since Dario had gone to jail, Fausto had gotten paranoid that the government might be tapping our phones and monitoring our emails. So every month, somebody had to go deliver messages and cash to the guys who bribed our network of judges and cops in Florence.

Since I was low man on the totem pole, that job usually fell to me.

During the day, I met with our guys and had a few meetings with people who worked for the Agrellas – the Cosa Nostra family who ran all the street-level shit in Florence, like drugs and prostitution.

At night, I partied.

Sometimes with people in our own organization; sometimes with lower-level dudes in the Agrella family; and sometimes just with guys I knew from years of going to Florence.

The one thing I stayed away from on this trip was girls.

I didn’t hit up any of my regular booty calls when I came to town.

I didn’t go up to any hot chicks in the clubs.

And if a girl came over and talked to me, I’d be like, Sorry, tonight I’m just hanging with my friends.

One of my buddies noticed and asked me what the fuck was going on.

“Just not feelin’ it,” I yelled back over the music.

“What the fuck?!” he laughed. “When the fuck have you ever not ‘felt it’ – especially if they have tits like that chick had?!”

I didn’t tell him I was thinking about a chick with even bigger boobs – and all natural…

A thick little hottie with an ass to die for.

Not coming made me start to get edgy and super horny…

But all I could think about was Caterina.

Nic had said she would start in a week.

I was planning on getting back home before she started.

Despite what I’d said to my brother, I definitely had plans to seduce her…

And I wanted to make sure I was there to greet her on her first day.

I was planning to go back home after my last meeting with the Agrellas, but the guys insisted I go out clubbing with them.

I tried to get out of it, but they acted all offended.

It was kind of a ritual to go out drinking with them on my last night in Florence, and I didn’t have a good excuse to bow out.

And Uncle Fausto would be pissed if I didn’t keep up appearances… so we went out for a late dinner and then to the clubs.

I had one drink, then switched to soda water and lime so I could drive.

I shot the shit with the Agrella guys and had a few laughs –

But as soon as they were drunk enough and had some girls interested in them, I got the fuck out of there.

I went back to my hotel room, grabbed my suitcases and threw them in the Bugatti, and got the hell out of Florence.

This voice in my head kept saying, I should just spend the night. Get some sleep and drive back home tomorrow morning.

But I had this feeling in my gut that I had to get back home.

All I could think about was Caterina.

Which was pretty insane. She was just another girl – like the dozen or so I’d turned down all week at the clubs.

Except… she wasn’t.

There was something different about her.

Maybe it was the way she smelled… something the animal in me responded to…

Part of it was definitely her body. She was so different from all the chicks I normally slept with.

I couldn’t stop thinking about her curves…

About taking her from behind…

Sinking my cock deep inside her while I gripped that spectacular ass in my hands…

Whatever the reason, I couldn’t keep my mind off her.

And it was driving me a little crazy.

Not just ‘a little,’ either –

She was driving me crazy.

And I wasn’t going to be able to rest until I had her.

I sped down the deserted highways and got back home in an hour.

Whoever was manning the surveillance camera on the gates sounded surprised to see me back home at 5:30 in the morning, but he let me in without any questions.

I dropped off the Bugatti at the garage – we always had somebody there in case of an emergency – and told the guy in charge to have somebody take my bags up to my room.

By the time I walked in the front door, I was hungry and wanted something to eat before I hit the sack.

I barged into the kitchen, expecting it to be empty –

And there she was.

Holy fuck, she looked even better than my fantasies.

She didn’t have a lick of makeup on, which let me see how naturally beautiful she was.

In the past, I’d definitely run into the Go to bed with a 10 and wake up with a 5 problem, so I liked knowing how a girl looked when she wasn’t dolled up for the club.

Caterina was beautiful.

And her hair – it was messy, but I loved it. It looked like she’d just woken up after a couple hours of sleep after I’d fucked her all night long.

She wasn’t wearing a bra, and I could see a hint of her nipples poking through the silky cloth.

FUCK.

I got to a quarter erection just from seeing that.

She stared at me with huge eyes, like a deer caught in the headlights –

And suddenly I wanted her more than anything I could ever remember.

This was it.

I was going to fuck this girl –

I had to fuck this girl –

Right here. Right now.

I gave her a smile and turned up the charm.

“Well, hello.”

10

Caterina

“…hi,” I squeaked out.

I was very aware that I was not looking my best. Every morning, I’d always put on makeup just in case I saw Valentino – but after no sign of him for six days, I eventually gave up.

I was getting up at 4:15 in the morning to put on my face, I was frickin’ exhausted, and if I wasn’t going to see him, what was the point?

So of course he shows up the first morning I wasn’t wearing any makeup.

Plus, I’d overslept because I was so tired, and I’d had to throw on my clothes in a hurry. I looked pretty sloppy with my hair all mussed up.

I’d figured that if any of the kitchen staff said anything when they came in to fix breakfast, I’d just go back to my room and tidy up.

So of course this was the time he decided to show up.

He didn’t seem put off by my looks, though, because he walked over right in front of me with that million-dollar smile.

He got so close I could smell his cologne and a hint of cigarette smoke on his clothes.

I tried to smell any alcohol on his breath –

Nope. He definitely wasn’t drunk.

He didn’t even seem buzzed. More like he was 100% sober.

“It’s good to see you,” he grinned. “I thought you weren’t starting work until tomorrow.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “I was supposed to, but – wait, you knew when I was starting work?!”

“Of course. I specifically asked about it.” Valentino chuckled. “Niccolo told me to leave you alone… but I told him that should be up to you.”

“…oh,” I squeaked again, suddenly feeling a hot flush all over me.

“When did you start?” he asked.

“Like – six days ago.”

“Six days ago?!” he exclaimed. “Shit – if I’d known that, I would’ve been back here way earlier!”

“Where… where were you?”

“Eh, just hanging out in Florence. I thought Nic said that’s where you’re from.”

“I am, yeah. I mean, I lived there. I’m not from there. But I lived there. For a couple of years. With roommates.”

Good Lord, I sounded like an idiot, even to myself.

“I looked for you in the clubs,” Valentino said, staring into my eyes, still giving me that movie star grin.

“…you did?” I asked, my heart pounding.

“Yeah. I mean, Florence is a big city, so I knew it was kind of stupid to think I’d run into you… but I kept an eye out for you.”

I figured he was lying – or just sweet-talking me –

But I loved it.

He was letting me know he was into me.

He was so fucking hot, I was definitely into him –

And that made me bolder.

“So you were in Florence, going to nightclubs?” I asked.

“I was. Just drove back from one, as I’m sure you can tell.”

“Why’d you drive home so early?”

“I dunno. Just had a feeling I should get back here.” He grinned. “Looks like I was right.”

I swallowed hard as my heart pounded in my chest.

“Did you go out at night when you lived in Florence?” he asked.

“All the time. What…” I paused, then decided to go for it. “What would you have done if you’d seen me at a nightclub in Florence?”

His grin only got bigger.

“Well… since it’d probably be loud with all the music… I would have walked over and done this.”

He got right up next to me, his body pressing against mine.

His muscles felt so hard against my curves…

And I could feel the heat of his body radiating into me.

Oh blessed Mary, take me right now!

Then he nearly sent me into hysterics.

He leaned in…

Brushed my hair away from the side of my head…

And put his lips right next to my ear.

The touch of his lips on my skin nearly made me whimper.

“I’d probably have to shout it since the music would be so loud,” he whispered sexily into my ear, “but since it’s so quiet, I can do it like this. And I’d have said, ‘You’re incredibly hot. Do you want to dance?’”

“Yes,” I moaned.

And not just a little moan –

But like a PLEASE FUCK ME moan.

I wasn’t even thinking – it just slipped out.

As soon as I said it, I blushed furiously, my face burning red-hot.

He pulled back to look me in the eyes.

Oh god, I was so embarrassed –

And yet I wanted him so bad, I couldn’t look away.

His eyes lowered to my chest, and he grinned. “Looks like you might want to do a little more than dance.”

I glanced down to see what he was talking about –

Oh Jesus!

I hadn’t worn a bra, I was so exhausted when I woke up –

And my nipples were erect and pressing hard against the white shirt I wore for work.

For a second I was embarrassed –

And then I was like, Fuck it.

I want him.

He knows it.

There’s no use pretending.

“Yes,” I whispered back.

“Yes, what?” he asked with a grin.

I stared him right in the eyes and said, bold as brass, “I want to do a lot more than just dance.”

He looked absolutely delighted. “That’s good – because I do, too.”

He put his hands on my waist and pulled me into him, my body against his crotch –

And I could feel his hard cock pressing against me.

OH GOD.

I gasped –

And that’s when he bent down and kissed me.

His mouth was warm and sweet, and I could taste a trace of whiskey on his lips.

When I got over my complete shock about two seconds later, I opened my mouth wide to him –

And grabbed both sides of his head and kissed him back passionately.

Suddenly we were going at it hard and crazy, his tongue deep in my mouth, his hands all over me, one clutching at my ass, the other cupping my breast –

And my hands clawing at his muscular back, my body grinding against his hard cock, wanting so bad to feel it inside me.

But when he started hiking up my skirt, I freaked out.

“No!” I whispered and giggled frantically, batting his hand away.

“No?!” he asked incredulously.

“Not here!” I whispered back. “I’ll get fired!”

“You won’t get fired,” he murmured as he kissed me again and fondled my breast at the same time, his fingers tweaking my hard nipple through the cloth.

I pushed him away, laughing. “I just started working here!”

“Nobody’s going to find out.”

“People are going to come in here!”

“Yeah – you are,” he whispered into my ear as he nibbled my earlobe.

God, I wanted him so bad.

I would have gotten fired just so I could fuck him once.

“No!” I giggled and pushed him away. “People will show up soon!”

Valentino looked around the deserted kitchen as though to prove a point. “Who? My brothers don’t get up until 7 at the earliest, and it’s not even 6!”

“The other kitchen workers!” I said, then moaned as he continued to fondle me.

“When?” he demanded.

“I don’t know – 6:30 – ”

“Which gives us plenty of time,” he grunted as he lightly bit my neck.

OH GOD.

I couldn’t keep putting him off –

Because I didn’t want to keep putting him off.

“Well, not here!” I insisted, though I was moaning as I said it.

“Alright – in there,” he whispered.

I looked at where he was pointing.

“The pantry?!” I whispered back.

I knew the room was huge, with lots of shelves filled with jars and cans –

And plenty of room to move around in.

“Yup,” Valentino said.

Then he forcefully took my hand and pulled me towards the room.

I let him.

In fact, right then, I would have let him do just about anything he wanted.

11

Valentino opened the door to the pantry, turned on the light, and then shut the door behind us.

We looked at each other for a second –

And then I attacked him.

Basically grabbed him by the hair on either side of his head and kissed him frantically.

He kissed me back even harder, but kept his body arched away from mine so he could unbutton his shirt.

He got frustrated with how slow it was going, though, and ripped it.

Pop pop pop!

Buttons went flying everywhere and clattered on the floor.

I pulled back to take him in under the light of the single bulb above us –

Oh my GOD.

He was ripped.

Huge pecs – washboard abs – bulging biceps – massive shoulders –

And in the light from above, dark shadows played across every single curve of his muscles.

He was the hottest guy I’d ever seen, much gotten to kiss.

And now we were going to fuck.

I was wetter and more turned on than I’d ever imagined possible.

He clasped me again, kissing me wildly.

I ran my hands all over him, feeling how strong and massive he was.

His body was hot as hell –

But I wanted something hotter.

My hands reached to his belt and fumbled with the buckle.

He laughed and pulled away, then gazed seductively into my eyes as he growled, “Do you know how hard you make me?”

“No, but I really want to find out,” I purred as I finally got the belt unbuckled and the top button of his pants undone.

He grinned – unzipped –

And from the fly in his black boxers, out popped the biggest cock I had ever seen in real life.

“Oh my GOD!” I exclaimed in delight and wonder.

I mean, he was big.

MUCH bigger than any other guy I’d ever been with.

And gorgeous. Big, swollen pink head… very thick… and long. So long.

He laughed. “You like it?”

My answer was to reach out, cup his shaft in my hand, and moan as I stared at it.

“I love it,” I whispered, unable to take my eyes off it.

I slowly ran my hand up and down his underside.

His cock spasmed in my hand – getting suddenly bigger with a single contraction, then slightly decreasing in size.

A single drop of pre-cum oozed from his tip, sparkling like crystal in the light.

Valentino grunted like an animal in heat –

And I dropped to my knees in front of him.

I couldn’t help myself.

I had to taste him.

I grasped the base of his cock with one hand and was barely able to get my hand all the way around it.

I licked the underside of his shaft just below the crown, making him spasm again…

And then, moaning, put my entire mouth around his head.

His salty taste filled my mouth, and I luxuriated in the slipperiness of his pre-cum across my tongue.

“Oh fuck,” he hissed.

Then I began to suck, moving my head back and forth – slowly at first, then a little bit faster.

“Oh FUCK,” he groaned.

Then I went down on him further and further, taking two inches, three inches, four inches in my mouth, and still not even halfway down his cock.

“FUCK!” Valentino moaned, bracing himself against the shelves with one hand.

God he was big – I could barely open my mouth wide enough to take all of him. I’d never be able to deepthroat him – not without a lot of practice.

It turned me on SO MUCH.

And the feel of his hard cock in my mouth, gliding across my tongue?

I wanted him in my pussy so bad.

Apparently he felt the same way, because he reached under my arm and pulled me insistently to my feet.

His face looked tortured – like a wild animal in pain –

And he ripped my blouse open, just like he had his own shirt.

Pop pop pop! went the buttons.

With any other guy, I might have yelled, HEY! –

But with him, it just turned me on even more.

He stared at my tits like he’d just seen God –

And then he roughly clutched at them, manhandled them, squeezed them.

I threw my head back and moaned.

Then he was hiking up my skirt and pulling at my thong.

I wiggled as he slid it down my thighs, tracing my wetness across my skin –

And when my thong fell to the floor, I stepped out of it.

As soon as I did, his huge hands reached under my skirt –

Grabbed my ass –

And hoisted me effortlessly into the air.

I gasped and giggled. I’m definitely not a tiny little thing, yet he’d just lifted me like I was a rag doll.

I wrapped my legs around his waist. I felt one of his hands clutch my ass cheek and support all my weight –

As his other hand disappeared to grab his cock.

Seconds later, there was the delicious sensation of his head, huge and swollen, pressing against my pussy lips.

He looked at me expectantly.

I think he was waiting for me to say Condom! –

But I didn’t.

Because I wanted to feel all of him.

Every inch of his cock inside me, skin on skin.

Stupid, yes –

And not something I’d ever done before, not on my first time with someone –

But I couldn’t help myself.

I wanted it too bad.

And I was on birth control, so no problem there.

When I didn’t say anything, he gradually let me lower down –

And I felt his tip enter me, his pre-cum-soaked head slippery between my lips.

JESUS –

Even the tip was huge!

He stared at me feverishly –

I stared at him back, frowning, my mouth open in an ‘O’ because just the tip felt so good –

And then he slowly lowered me down on him.

OH FUUUUCK!

I can’t begin to describe the sensations.

So hard –

So big –

Filling me up –

A pressure and a pleasure unlike anything I’d ever felt before –

And it just kept going, and going…

And getting deeper and deeper.

I groaned LOUDLY as I kept sliding down on him.

He broke out into a grin.

“I thought you were afraid people would find out?” he teased me.

I remembered my previous worries, but they seemed a million miles away now. All I wanted was his huge cock.

I whimpered, “I’ll be quiet.”

“Yeah, well, I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you’re not quiet,” he growled.

And then –

He started to fuck me.

Jesus God, did he fuck me.

Like I’d never been fucked before in my life.

Like a wild animal –

Total abandon –

With more pleasure than I’d ever even come close to.

He thrust inside me, fast and hard and DEEP –

And kissed me like he was possessed.

I kissed him back just as hard – raking my fingernails over the skin of his shoulders and back, unable to control myself.

I tried to not make any noise.

I tried, I really did!

But it was goddamn near impossible.

In the silence, the wet slap slap slap! of his cock inside me turned me on so much –

That I would start whimpering and moaning, and have to bite my lower lip hard to keep from screaming.

Especially when my first orgasm hit.

We’d only been fucking for maybe two minutes when I suddenly felt it build inside me, hot and crazy and uncontrollable –

And I shrieked out loud as it rolled through me like a tidal wave of pleasure.

I could usually only get off during sex with a lot of clit play –

And here Valentino was, making me come harder than I ever had before, just with his cock!

Not only that, but in the past, every guy had either come before me – or couldn’t control himself when I came.

I’m a screamer usually, and it sends most guys over the edge.

Not Valentino.

He just grinned like the cat who ate the canary –

And kept on thrusting deep inside me, hard and fast.

In the past, guys I’d been with had always stopped fucking once they came –

And they always came when I did, if not long before.

So I’d never had an orgasm before where the guy kept going.

And it was craaaazy.

My pussy felt so sensitive –

TOO sensitive –

It was kind of uncomfortable –

But then I was overcome with waves of pleasure from him fucking me, and I came again not 30 seconds later.

“OH FUCK!” I screamed this time as an even more powerful orgasm rolled through me.

My entire body bucked and shivered, and I threw my head back –

And banged the back of my skull against a shelf.

“OW!” I cried out.

“Oh shit!” Valentino whispered and stopped. “Are you okay?”

“Ohhhh,” I said, half laughing, half whimpering in pain.

He looked into my eyes tenderly. “Seriously – are you okay?”

But then I realized what I wasn’t feeling anymore:

His cock thrusting inside me.

I nodded and whispered, “Don’t stop.”

He grinned, kissed me –

And then went back to fucking me like a god.

It took me another minute at most to come again –

And then after that, the orgasms came hard and fast, waves of pleasure rising and falling, overlapping, until I couldn’t tell where one started and the other began.

I gouged my fingernails into his skin, trying not to make any noise, but I kept moaning in a whisper-scream, “Oh, Valentino! Valentino! Oh FUCK, VALENTINO!”

I lost count of how many times I came.

Suddenly, Valentino grunted and groaned.

Then he hissed, “I’m gonna come – I’m gonna come – ”

“Yes, yes!” I whispered frantically, biting his lower lip as I rode him, “Come for me, baby – come for me – ”

“I gotta pull out – I gotta – ”

“NO!” I whispered fiercely. “No, I’m on birth control – come inside me! Come inside me!”

“OH FUCK!”

Valentino held onto me, nearly crushing me with his huge, strong arms –

And I felt his cock spasm uncontrollably inside me –

A jet of hot, liquid warmth literally spurting deep inside me, so powerful that I could literally feel it.

And the sensation pushed me over the edge into my own final orgasm.

“OH VALENTINO!” I screamed, unable to keep quiet any longer, as I worked my own hips, grinding against him, taking him into me, even more slippery than before.

Finally we stopped, both of us panting and sweaty…

His cock still hard inside me, but neither of us moving.

He looked at me in silence.

I was suddenly afraid that, having come, he would realize he’d just made some terrible mistake by fucking the servant girl –

But instead, the corners of his eyes crinkled up with his smile, and he leaned in, closed his eyes, and kissed me tenderly.

I kissed him back, floating on a cloud, caught in a dream.

It was the perfect moment, and I wanted it to go on forever.

12

We must have kissed for an entire minute when he pulled away from me and said, “Now you know why I told you to remember my name.”

I laughed, partly in embarrassment at how many times I must have cried out Valentino!

He frowned like he was turned on. “Oh fuck – I can feel your pussy gripping my cock when you laugh like that…”

“Oh my god…” I murmured, my voice husky.

I wanted to fuck him again, I was so turned on.

Apparently he was, too, because his eyes got all sexy, and he leaned forward to kiss me.

I leaned forward, too –

Not to kiss him in a romantic way, but a Fuck me RIGHT NOW! kind of way.

Right as our lips were about to meet, there was a creaking noise outside the pantry.

“Oh FUCK,” I whispered in absolute terror.

We froze and waited in silence –

But nothing came.

No footsteps, no human sounds, nothing.

Valentino laughed. “It’s an old house. It makes sounds all the time. Don’t worry, nobody’s up yet.”

But fear had thrown cold water all over me. “Yeah, but they’re gonna be! I gotta get dressed!”

He chuckled, lifted me off his still-hard cock, and set me down gently on the floor.

Once he was out of me and I was standing, I felt his cum trickling down the inside of my thigh –

And I wanted to fuck him again.

Even though my pussy was sore from his size, and all the muscles in my belly had gotten the workout of my life from all those orgasms –

I wanted to fuck him again. For HOURS.

I looked down longingly at his wet, shining cock and wished we could keep going.

“Here,” he whispered, bending to the floor. He picked up his shirt and handed it to me. “Use this to clean up.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, shocked.

It was an odd bit of chivalry – but it was still chivalrous all the same.

“Of course.”

I used his shirt to mop between my legs.

It was a good thing I did, because there was a lot to clean up.

He shoved his cock back into his pants and buckled up. I was actually sad to see that gorgeous thing disappear from sight.

I stepped back into my sopping-wet thong and remembered my blouse no longer had most of its buttons on it.

“Oh shit!” I hissed. “I’ve got to go back to my room and change.”

“Sorry about that,” Valentino whispered.

“Don’t be – it was fucking hot,” I purred, and kissed him.

He kissed me back twice as hard, then pulled away and tilted his head towards the door.

“You ready?”

I nodded nervously…

And he opened the pantry door.

We peeked out.

There was nobody in the kitchen.

We both tiptoed out and faced each other – me holding my blouse closed with one hand, him standing there half-naked with his wet shirt balled up in one hand.

This was the part where it was going to get awkward. I just knew it.

The part where he said, This was fun, but it can’t happen again.

Or where we both stuttered and stumbled and said something like, See you around.

I hated that.

I hated that I’d just had the absolute best sex of my life – by a country mile – with the hottest guy I’d ever been with, and it was probably going to be the last time, too.

But…

All good things must come to an end, I guess.

“Well…” I started –

And then he surprised me by bending over and kissing me passionately.

I felt his hand slip inside my blouse and cup my left tit, then gently tweak my still-hard nipple.

In two seconds flat, I was ready to fuck him again.

So ready.

But he pulled back, gave me that million-dollar smile, and winked. “Till next time.”

Then he walked out of the kitchen, leaving me in stunned silence.

I stood there for about fifteen seconds, not knowing what the fuck had just happened –

And then I saw the clock on the wall.

6:12.

SHIT!

I ran as quietly as I could in the darkness all the way across the mansion to the servants’ quarters.

When I got to my room, I changed my underwear, put on a bra and a new blouse, and then ran back to the kitchen.

6:21.

My coworkers would be showing up any second.

Fuck!

I looked around for signs of what had happened –

And realized there were buttons all over the floor of the pantry.

I frantically got on my hands and knees and picked up every one I could find –

And realized there were big dollops of wetness on the floor.

Valentino’s – mine – probably both.

I ran back out, got paper towels, and cleaned everything up.

Then I sniffed the air.

It totally smelled like somebody had had sex in there.

I flung the pantry door open and closed, trying to air it out –

Then finally got a box of matches and lit one after the other, hoping to disguise the scent with the smell of smoke.

By 6:28, I was back at my station, chopping onions like nothing had happened.

The first kitchen hand walked in three minutes later.

He sniffed the air, then turned to me. “Did you light matches in here?”

“I’m a little gassy this morning,” I said, blushing hard at saying something so embarrassing. “So I tried to cover up the smell.”

“UGH,” he groaned, then glared at the smaller-than-usual pile of chopped onions in front of me. “What did you do, spend half the morning in the bathroom?”

“I’ll go faster,” I promised.

And I did.

Twenty minutes later, I was still running behind. The entire kitchen staff was irritated with me –

But it was worth it.

SO worth it.

I was only afraid of one thing:

That after he got some post-nut clarity, I’d never see Valentino again.

That he would ignore me…

Or just smile politely…

And worst of all, that I would never get to have that gorgeous cock inside me again.

I needn’t have worried.

He saw me three more times throughout the day. Every time, he could barely repress a smile.

The last time, he leaned down when no one was watching and whispered in my ear, “Get here earlier tomorrow morning.”

My nipples hardened at the sound of his voice.

You better believe I got there earlier – 4:30, thirty minutes before my usual time.

I did as much prep as I could, as fast as I could –

Until he showed up at 5.

We didn’t say a word –

We just started kissing and frantically undressing each other –

And we fucked in the pantry again.

This time in all sorts of different positions:

Him taking me from behind, his muscular thighs slamming into my ass with every thrust…

Him lying on the floor with me riding him, and him sucking my nipples…

And again with me lifted in the air, my legs wrapped around his waist.

We stopped at 6 so I could finish my work and not raise suspicions.

I’d brought a hand towel to clean off, plus a change of clothes just in case.

He left me with another kiss and a wink. “See you tomorrow.”

I worried every time that he would change his mind and that I’d never get to fuck him again –

But he kept coming back…

Over…

And over…

Every time, no matter what.

Early mornings became my favorite part of the day –

By far.

13

Valentino

FUUUUUUCK.

Caterina was like crack cocaine –

From the very first hit, I was hooked.

That first time we fucked in the pantry was incredible.

The way she got down on her knees…

The way she teased me with her tongue…

The way she absolutely worshipped my cock…

The way she looked up at me with her eyes half-closed, like she had the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted in her mouth…

It was the best blowjob I’d ever had in my life.

And then it only got better.

When I lifted her up and put my cock inside her…

God DAMN.

She didn’t ask me to use a condom, which was super-fucking hot.

So I got to feel every soft, wet inch of her pussy, which felt amazing.

She was able to take all of me, which was amazing. Not all the girls I’d been with could do that.

And she didn’t wince or grit her teeth or tell me to Go slow, go slow!

She just moaned and screamed my name over and over.

She was so passionate, and uninhibited, and flat-out fucking sexy –

I’d say it was probably the hottest sex of my life.

Naaah…

It was definitely the hottest sex of my life.

Now, part of me was a little hesitant.

She obviously had a past if she was that good at fucking.

But mostly I was like, Whatever.

Every girl I’d ever been with had a past. I wasn’t exactly out there scoping for virgins.

And it was just a fling, anyway.

I mean, it wasn’t going to last.

She worked for my family. It wasn’t like we were going to date.

And even though I was totally into her, I figured I’d lose interest after a couple of times fucking her, like I always did with other girls.

Except…

I didn’t.

Lose interest, I mean.

The sex just got hotter.

She just got hotter.

That girl was like sexual napalm.

It got to where I had to have her twice a day… then three times a day.

I couldn’t stay away.

I was hypnotized by the girl –

And hooked on her body.

Her pussy… her tits… that incredible ass…

Her mouth…

Her beautiful face…

Her eyes…

That was my favorite thing to fantasize about, actually:

Looking into her eyes when she had an orgasm.

The way she tried not to scream and failed every time –

And the way her eyes got wide and then rolled back in her head when she came.

When I wasn’t fucking her, I was thinking about fucking her.

Daydreaming about her made my mouth water…

And just seeing her working in the kitchen made my dick hard.

After only two days, I stopped returning texts from my regular chicks.

I didn’t return calls.

I sure as hell didn’t meet up with any of them.

Yeah, I’d flirt with random chicks if I was out doing errands in Florence – mostly just ‘cause it felt good to see their eyes light up and know that they wanted me.

But that was all just ego. Just for fun.

When it came to sex, all I wanted was Caterina.

And I wanted her as much as possible –

As often as I could fuck her –

In as many ways as I could fuck her.

I was completely obsessed.

Yeah, it wasn’t going to last –

I knew it couldn’t last –

But I was going to enjoy the hell out of it while it did.

14

Caterina

As time went by, things got crazier with Valentino.

We took more chances – which was thrilling, but also really scary.

I was always convinced I was this close to being found out and getting fired.

But I wanted him so badly, I took ALL the risks.

We went from fucking in the pantry at the beginning of my shift…

To him pulling me into the pantry anytime I was the only one working in the kitchen.

After lunch, it was usually slow for an hour before the evening crew came on for dinner –

And sure enough, Valentino would come calling.

Mostly we did it in the pantry… although sometimes we fucked in one of the 2000 bathrooms in the giant house.

Occasionally it was in a spare bedroom…

And even once or twice outside, in the beautiful gardens.

Then he started visiting me in my room in the servant quarters at night…

And we’d fuck for hours before I’d kick him out so I could at least get some sleep before I had to get up and start my shift.

I could never say no to him.

I tried… but I didn’t really want to say ‘no.’

Not to that beautiful face…

That incredible body…

Or that huge, gorgeous cock.

So I always fucked him. Always.

I knew it wasn’t going to last, so I was going to enjoy it while it did.

Why wouldn’t it last, you might ask?

Well, I mean, I was a girl who worked in the kitchen –

And he was in the richest family in Tuscany.

Not to mention he was in the mafia, though neither of us ever talked about that.

Not that we had a ton of time for talking.

We started talking more at night, though, when he began to sneak into my room.

I’d tell him stories about Nonna and how I’d always wanted to cook.

He’d tell me stories about his mother, who had died from cancer when he was only 13.

He broke my heart the way he talked about her.

For somebody (me) who’d had a bad relationship with her own parents, the love he had for his mom was like something out of a storybook…

And it made me like him all the more.

One of his stories really stood out to me – because it involved both love and food.

“She used to make me this special version of almond milk when I was little,” he said one time. “She learned it from my grandmother – my dad’s mom – who was Sicilian.

“Mom would soak almonds for two days, then blend them up… but when she strained out the milk, she would add back in some of the pulp so it was kind of grainy. Then she would put a big spoonful of cherry preserves in the bottom.

“I used to love that. Sometimes I’d stir it up so the cherries were mixed in, but a lot of times I’d just drink all the sweet milk so I could eat the cherries by themselves.” He smiled sadly. “She made it just for me. None of my brothers liked it that much… so she made it just for me.”

“She didn’t have servants fix it for you?” I asked, surprised.

“No, she did it all herself.”

That astounded me.

His mother was a rich woman who lived in a palace. She had servants who would do anything she commanded…

And yet she went through the trouble of soaking almonds, grinding them up herself, and fixing the drink…

All because her youngest son enjoyed it.

“She loved you,” I murmured.

“Of course,” he said casually.

“No, I mean – I really enjoy cooking for people. It’s how I show I love them. It sounds like that’s how she showed love for you.”

Valentino got really quiet.

Then he said, “She’s buried out in the orchards, you know. We have a little graveyard for my grandparents and her. I… I go out there and talk to her sometimes.”

“What do you tell her?”

What he said next broke my heart.

“When I was 12 years old, I wanted to be cool like my brothers, so I pretended that I didn’t like the almond drink anymore. I was really rude the last time she fixed it for me, when she was still sick. So now I tell her…”

His voice choked up.

“I tell her that I miss her… and I miss being able to taste that drink… and I’d do almost anything to be able to have her make it for me one more time.”

I nearly cried.

I hoped somebody loved me enough to talk about me like that one day.

When he saw the tears in my eyes, he smiled and kissed me tenderly.

One thing led to another, and we had sex.

But it was slow and sweet for the very first time.

If I didn’t know any better, I might have said we’d made love.

But that wasn’t what we were doing.

I had to remind myself:

This is just a fling.

This is just for fun.

But of all the nights we spent together in my tiny little servant’s room, that was the one that stood out the most…

And the one that I wished could happen again. Or something like it, anyway.

It never did.

The rest of our sex life was on fire, it was so hot –

But I always looked back on that night with a special place in my heart.

Sometimes I wished things could have been different…

And that once in a while, he’d take me softly in his arms and make love to me.

15

The longer I worked at the house, the more I saw of the extended family – Valentino’s brothers, father, uncle, and cousin.

I already knew Niccolo from the day I got hired. Something about him always scared me a little. He would seem happy and in a good mood – but underneath, I got the sense that he could turn on a dime and get furious. Not to mention that he would mess with your mind… and enjoy it.

Another brother scared me, too: Adriano. I saw him blow up at a couple of men who worked for the family, and I made a promise to myself right then and there never to be on the receiving end of his temper.

Just to be clear, Adriano was never mean to me. He was pretty distant – he never spoke to me unless he wanted something – but he would always make eye contact with me when he entered the kitchen and nod at me in greeting.

That was more than I could say for some of my bosses back in Florence.

In contrast, Massimo was a giant teddy bear. He would smile and be pleasant whenever he saw me, asking me how my day was. I loved Massimo.

Roberto was kind, as well. He was quiet and kept to himself, but he would smile and say hello whenever we saw each other.

But the brothers’ father, Leonardo? The difference between him and most of his sons was like night and day. He was most like Valentino: full of laughter and charm.

The people in my town had whispered about Leonardo’s nickname, but for a guy they called il Mostro, he sure was friendly. If he saw me in the kitchen, he would tell me I was so pretty that I ought to be married to a prince from Monaco instead of there in his kitchen. And he always complimented my work, even though I was still only doing prep.

By the way, everyone on staff was instructed to address Leonardo as Don Rosolini.

Now, it could have been an old-timey way of addressing the leader of a rich family… Lord Rosolini…

But I’d seen The Godfather.

I knew the kind of man you called ‘Don’ in Italy.

Let’s just say that the mafia vibes were clearer than ever.

But even if he was mafia, Don Rosolini was kind to me and made me laugh.

On the other hand, Valentino’s Uncle Fausto made my skin crawl.

He was nice to his brother and his nephews, but he treated the kitchen staff like we were beneath his contempt. He rarely spoke to us, and when he did, he acted like we were too stupid to understand anything.

His son Aurelio was even worse. He was an out-and-out asshole. He would complain about everything and insult us to our faces.

Once he threw a temper tantrum and slammed a big metal bowl of sliced fruit across the room, scattering it everywhere. When everybody stared at him in fear, he screamed, “WELL?! PICK IT UP!”

Everyone in the family was very different. Some were wonderful, like Valentino and his father…

Some were pleasant, like Massimo and Roberto…

And some were awful, like his uncle and cousin.

Niccolo and Adriano weren’t awful, exactly… but I still kept my distance.

There were others I kept my distance from, too: co-workers who were nasty to me.

Shit rolls downhill – and when Fausto or Aurelio were assholes to some of my co-workers, they just passed along a big steaming helping to me.

I learned to avoid them at all costs.

One of them was an old Sicilian woman, Filomena. She somehow found out about me and Valentino, and every time I saw her, she gave me the evil eye or sneered.

I wanted to tell her, Bitch, mind your own business! but I bit my tongue.

If I’d learned anything in life, it was to not make waves – so I just avoided her as much as possible.

I guess that was a problem I had in general: avoiding confrontation instead of speaking my mind. Running away instead of holding my ground.

I hid having sex from my parents until I got busted… and then I ran away to Florence.

After I went to work for the Rosolinis and my father basically told me I was no longer welcome, I never tried to contact them again.

It wasn’t because I was like Fuck you! so much as I just couldn’t stand the conflict.

Like with my parents, I didn’t see any good coming out of fighting Filomena, or Niccolo, or anyone else… so I basically just went along to get along.

For a while, that was enough.

But they say that if you don’t decide things for yourself, someone else will decide them for you.

I eventually found out they were right.

16

All in all, I really enjoyed my job and where I worked.

And though I might not have gotten every single thing I wanted from Valentino – like the occasional tender lovemaking – I still didn’t want things to ever change.

But they did.

Everything does, eventually.

The first huge change was when a Swedish man named Lars came to the house.

He was very handsome. Not as handsome as Valentino, obviously – but still plenty hot.

Lars had been in prison with Dario, Valentino’s oldest brother. Once Lars got out, Dario sent him to his family so they could give him a job.

They gave him a job, all right: overturning the apple cart.

Apparently he had been a soldier, because he began training all the men who worked for the family – and Valentino and his brothers – in self-defense and firing guns.

Overnight, the grounds around the mansion turned into a military base.

Valentino trained for hours in the afternoon and was so worn out that he temporarily stopped coming to my room at night.

Which was good in that I finally caught up on some much-needed sleep –

But I was beginning to get irritated with Signor Lars.

At least Val would still come into the kitchen in the early morning hours and fuck my brains out. That part didn’t change, thankfully.

Then tragedy struck:

Valentino’s father died. A heart attack out of nowhere.

The brothers were devastated – especially Adriano, who had a soft side I’d never realized existed.

Valentino was in so much pain, I did everything I could to comfort him.

Mostly it was just holding him at night as we lay in bed, slowly stroking his hair. We didn’t have sex for almost a week…

And when we did, I did my best to drown him in pleasure so he could forget his grief, at least temporarily.

The next big change was that Fausto and Aurelio left – and took half the household staff with them.

I never knew exactly what Fausto did, but I knew he did something important. Very important. The way everyone deferred to him, it was like he was the second most powerful person in the house after Leonardo.

After Leonardo’s death, Fausto no longer worked for the family. Instead, he went out on his own.

If that wasn’t some mafia-style shit, I don’t know what is.

The day after Signor Leonardo’s funeral, more than half the kitchen staff was gone. Signora Lombardi, Nuncio, and most of my older co-workers left to go work in Fausto’s new home.

Which, in a way, was great for me.

I didn’t have to deal with Fausto’s arrogance or Aurelio’s nastiness anymore.

I also got an immediate promotion to fixing lunch and breakfast with the few morning staff left.

It was chaotic and three times as much work, but I was finally doing what I loved: cooking.

And people noticed.

Valentino always told me my food was amazing, so that wasn’t new.

But Roberto and Massimo both stopped by the kitchen to tell me that the quality of breakfast and lunch had improved immensely, which made me swell with pride.

Adriano merely nodded and said, “Good shit,” every time he finished a meal and saw me.

Others might not see that as huge praise, but considering who it came from, it really was.

Even Niccolo stopped by and complimented me… although that didn’t make me trust him anymore.

And then Signor Dario got out of prison and came home.

He took over his father’s spot because everybody on staff was instructed to call him Don Rosolini (cough cough, mafia, cough cough).

Dario was handsome as hell. After Valentino, he was probably the hottest of the brothers.

But… he made me really nervous.

He was never mean to me, not once. In fact, he frequently smiled if he saw me in the kitchen.

He was just so… imposing.

Like a king. Mysterious and powerful.

And dangerous.

There was definitely something that felt very dangerous about him…

Like he was the mafia incarnate.

A week after Dario arrived, Alessandra showed up.

I loved Alessandra! She was like the sister I wish I’d actually had. She was sweet and kind – and she liked being around me, unlike my actual siblings.

I found out early that she was extremely innocent.

She wasn’t just a virgin – I had to explain everything about sex to her.

EVERYTHING.

She was terrified when she showed up, poor thing. I eventually found out that Don Rosolini had kidnapped her (cough cough, MAFIA) and brought her to the estate.

The whole kidnapping thing shocked me –

But I guess Alessandra got over it because she started sleeping with Dario a week after she arrived.

For somebody who didn’t know anything about sex when she showed up, she sure moved fast!

Because she had a good teacher. Ha!

The one time I got mad at her was when she looked at my phone when I wasn’t around (I was probably in the pantry with Valentino, ahem) and then ran away.

Niccolo asked me questions afterwards.

He acted all nice, like he was just concerned…

And then he got angry. Very angry.

I was already nervous around Niccolo after the way he acted when he hired me.

Let’s just say that getting in trouble with him once was enough for a lifetime.

I was very put out with Alessandra after that, but she was incredibly apologetic, and I forgave her.

It worked out for her, though, because the errand I demanded she do as penance led to her sleeping with Dario for the first time.

That girl…

Like a cat, she always landed on her feet.

17

Valentino

Ithought I was keeping it on the down-low with Caterina –

Especially compared with Dario.

Once he started sleeping with her, you could hear Alessandra screaming in his bedroom from just about every corner of the house.

But apparently I wasn’t being quite as careful as I thought.

Niccolo came to me one day and said in irritation, “What would you do if I ordered you to stop seeing that kitchen girl?”

Shit.

Not a good situation –

But I did what any good player does in a situation where he’s caught:

Deny, deny, deny.

I put on my best poker face and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Niccolo smiled sarcastically. “Let me remind you, then: I’m talking about you fucking her in the kitchen. Specifically the pantry. You were a bit more discreet when she first started and only did it in the early morning hours before anyone else showed up for work – but now it’s starting to get out of hand.”

My stomach plummeted.

SHIT.

“I’m not going to stop seeing her,” I said, a warning in my voice.

Like, Don’t fuck this up for me, Nic.

“I figured. My guess is you’d just set her up in an apartment in Florence and fuck her there. If we’re going to spend that much money, we might as well get some work out of her.”

I know Nic meant it as a dark joke, but it pissed me off.

“She’s not a fucking whore,” I growled.

“Oh – my mistake. Is she your girlfriend, then?” he asked with fake sweetness.

He kind of had me on that one…

And I hated him for it.

“…no,” I grumbled.

“Mm-hm. I know you, Val. You’re going to continue doing whatever you want, no matter what I say. So at least keep it quiet. It’s bad for the other workers’ morale for you to do it so openly. Got it?”

“…got it,” I seethed.

He turned to go.

I knew Nic was the new consigliere –

But he was still the know-it-all brother who’d annoyed me my entire childhood, and his ordering me around stuck in my craw.

So I said something that I knew would stick in his.

“You wanted to fire Cat, didn’t you? But Dario wouldn’t let you,” I taunted him.

It was a guess more than anything –

But I’d apparently scored a direct hit.

Niccolo looked back and smiled coldly. “Given his recent experiences, Dario has a soft spot for men with… ‘problematic’ relationships.”

He was talking about Alessandra, and we both knew it.

But Nic being Nic, he had to get in the last word.

“Keep it in the bedroom,” Niccolo ordered. “If she’s not your whore, then stop fucking her like a whore.”

And he walked away, leaving me enraged.

I swore someday I’d make him pay for his snotty attitude –

I just didn’t know how quite yet.

But until then, I decided not to press my luck…

And started taking Caterina to spare bedrooms in the house whenever I wanted to be with her.

18

Caterina

When Alessandra first got involved with Dario, I told her to have fun.

But when she started talking about marriage, I warned her:

There aren’t any glass slippers at the end of the story.

I told her to enjoy being with a hot, powerful man who was amazing in bed –

But I also told her not to get attached.

To guard her heart.

To not expect too much.

What I didn’t tell her was that I was actually preaching to myself.

Valentino was the best thing that had ever happened to me…

But I knew it was never going to go anywhere.

Even though he was a shameless flirt with other women (which made my blood boil – although it also made me want him all the more), I was 99% sure he didn’t sleep with anyone else after we started hooking up.

But he was a mafia prince.

And I was the girl who worked in the kitchen.

When Valentino smiled at me, it was like the sun coming out of the clouds.

When he held me, it was like I was completely safe.

And every time he fucked me, it was like going to heaven without having to die.

But I had to keep reminding myself:

You’re not Cinderella.

This isn’t a fairy tale.

There’s not going to be a happily ever after.

I just enjoyed it for what it was:

Banging a really hot guy who was the best I’d ever had.

What I wouldn’t admit, not even to myself…

Was that I fell in love with him.

And then…

Alessandra married Dario.

I was ecstatic for her! She was my best friend, after all –

And, I’m not gonna lie, the idea that she’d bagged a Rosolini gave me hope.

But some crazy things came out in the weeks before her marriage.

Like she was actually the long-lost granddaughter of another ‘family’ up north.

A mafia princess. She just never knew it.

She kind of proved it, though, when she shot Filomena.

The old bitch was trying to kill Dario –

And she’d poisoned Signor Leonardo! He hadn’t had a heart attack, after all – it was Filomena who’d killed him!

I always hated the old woman because she was a holier-than-thou busybody. I had no idea she was a murderer, too.

Anyway, Alessandra was a badass and shot the bitch dead.

Which shocked me to no end, and made me respect her as well as love her.

Alessandra’s mafia background didn’t change anything between us, though. Neither did her getting married to Don Rosolini.

She was still the same Alessandra – good-hearted and sweet.

I was her maid of honor at her wedding.

I was the first person she told when she got pregnant.

And when she married the man of her dreams?

Like I said, it gave me hope.

But then something happened with Valentino.

Something that shattered my heart into a thousand little pieces and reminded me I was just a girl who worked in the kitchen…

And not a princess anyone wanted to marry.

It reminded me that fairytale endings only happen to women like Alessandra…

And not to girls like me.

19

Valentino

Honor.

Duty.

Family.

That’s what it means to be in the Cosa Nostra.

At least, that’s what they all drilled into me growing up: my father… my brothers…

And my uncle, who turned out to be a fucking traitor.

‘Honor, duty, and family,’ my ass.

To be honest, though, I didn’t give being in the Cosa Nostra a lot of thought.

To me, it meant ‘Life is great.’

Party all the time…

Bang hot chicks…

And then I met Caterina, and I didn’t want to sleep with anyone else.

It’s not like it was serious, though.

It was just a fling.

It wasn’t going to go anywhere.

I kind of figured I’d wind up marrying some daughter of a mafia family.

I mean, when Dario married Alessandra, we all thought she was just some sweet little girl from the middle of nowhere –

But it turned out she was actually related to a Cosa Nostra family in Genoa.

Adriano married a random chick he met in Florence. Bianca was really cool, but she wasn’t Cosa Nostra.

However, I just figured that was a one-off exception, and me and the rest of my brothers would end up marrying mafia chicks.

So I didn’t take things too seriously with Cat.

She was just a cool chick who was great in bed…

Who I couldn’t stay away from.

She was the first thing I thought of when I got up in the morning…

And the last thing I thought of when I went to sleep.

(…sometimes in her bed.)

But it wasn’t serious or anything.

Or at least I thought it wasn’t…

Until some really bad Cosa Nostra shit came knocking on my door.

It was the day after Adriano’s wedding. We’d just found out the night before that Uncle Fausto had stabbed us in the back.

After breakfast with the newlyweds, Massimo left to go sweet-talk the Widow – the old mafiosa who ran all of Venice – into backing us against Fausto.

A little after lunchtime, I went down to see Caterina when a bunch of servants walked out of the kitchen. Cat was the last of them, and she had a puzzled look on her face.

“Hey,” I said nonchalantly. I tried to keep it lowkey between us when there were other people around. “What’s up?”

She broke into a huge smile as soon as she saw me. “Oh! Hello!”

I glanced at the other servants walking away. “Why’s everybody leaving?”

“Your brothers and Signor Henriksson wanted the kitchen.”

By ‘Signor Henriksson,’ she meant Lars.

I thought it was cute how formal she was about everybody’s names.

But the part about them clearing the room was odd.

“Which brothers?” I asked.

“Don Rosolini and Signor Niccolo.”

I frowned slightly, wondering if I should walk in and see what was going on –

Naaaah.

Why waste a golden opportunity?

I checked to make sure the other servants were gone before I put my hand on the small of her back and whispered in her ear, “Good… I have something I want to show you.”

She giggled as I led her down the hallway.

By the time we entered one of the guest bedrooms down the hall, we were French kissing and our hands were all over each other.

“Mm – mmf,” she groaned, then pushed me away. “I should get back – they might want something!”

“If they cleared the room, they want privacy,” I said as I shut the door and locked it. Then I closed the window curtains so nobody could see from outside.

Cat looked worried. “But if they want something and I’m not there – ”

I stopped her protests with my mouth on hers. Then I grabbed her ass in both hands and squeezed.

She moaned…

Then pushed me away again.

I was a little bit annoyed –

Until she began to frantically unbutton my shirt.

She grinned as she whispered, “Didn’t you want to show me something?”

“Yeah. I wanted to show you…”

I unbuckled my pants and pulled my boxers down so she could see the head of my stiff cock.

“…how hard you make me,” I growled.

“Madonn,” she moaned as she looked down at my cock.

I loved that look she had whenever she saw it –

Like it was the most spectacular thing she’d ever seen, and that it hurt not to have it inside her.

She immediately sank to her knees, tugged my boxers down further, and took me in her mouth.

FUUUUUCK.

She cradled my balls in one hand, tickling my sack with her fingertips –

As she slowly moved up and down on my shaft.

Her eyes were closed in bliss as she went down deep on me… pulled back… and then looked up at me with those gorgeous doe eyes I loved so much.

Then she smiled and winked…

And keeping eye contact, sank almost all the way down, deepthroating me.

“Oh fuck,” I groaned as I smoothed her hair away from her face, wanting to take in the sight of her lips wrapped around the base of my cock.

She started to gag a little and pulled back.

A little strand of saliva hung from her lower lip to the head of my cock.

“I want it inside me,” she moaned as she ran her fingers up and down my wet shaft.

“That’s all you had to say,” I growled as I picked her up and tossed her on the bed.

She gave a shrieking laugh, then clamped her hand over her mouth like Oh no!

“That was nothing,” I said as I pulled up her dress around her waist. “I’m gonna make the whole house hear you.”

“No!” she whispered with a grin, like You better NOT!

“Yes,” I rasped as I reached for her panties.

When I brushed against the fabric between her legs, it was already drenched. I could smell her sweet, musky wetness.

“No,” she insisted, though she helped me out by lifting her ass.

I pulled the underwear off and tossed it on the floor, then forced her legs apart with my hands.

“Oh yes,” I said as I lowered myself between her thighs, angling my cock towards her pussy.

“NoOHHHHH,” she gasped as I pushed my swollen head inside her –

And then slid my entire shaft inside her.

Her pussy was soaking, and I was wet from her going down on me, so I sank inside her without the slightest bit of resistance.

“Oh God!” she whispered, her mouth open and her face contorted like she was in pain – even though I knew it was all from pleasure.

She began to moan and rake her fingers across my back as I thrust inside her hard and fast.

Slap slap slap slap slap

“Oh – God – oh – FUCK,” she whimpered.

“Oh Cat,” I groaned in her ear.

“Val – oh – FUCK – ”

“God, baby, you’re so – ”

I didn’t finish the sentence because I heard the first CRACK outside the house.

I froze.

It sounded like a suppressed rifle shot.

Because of Hollywood, people thought a suppressor completely silenced a gunshot, but it didn’t. It just muffled it. You could still hear it – and there was a particular signature to the sound. Lars had taught us that.

A second after the first shot, there was another.

CRACK.

“Val?” Caterina said. I was still inside her, but I wasn’t moving a muscle. “What’s wrong?”

I ignored her and listened –

And then I heard muffled shouts from inside the house.

“Shit,” I muttered as I pulled out of her.

“Val, you’re scaring me,” Cat whispered.

“Something’s wrong,” I said as I pulled up my pants and tried to hide my erection beneath my pulled-out shirt. “Get dressed, we’ve got to go.”

She looked at me fearfully as she pulled on her panties.

A second later, my suspicions were confirmed.

“Valentino!” a man’s voice yelled out in the hallway. “Sir, where are you?”

One of my family’s foot soldiers – a guy named Roreto.

He’d known exactly where to come looking for me, so I guess my little romp with Caterina wasn’t exactly a secret.

I opened the door just enough to look out. “What’s wrong?”

Roreto spun around to look at me. At least he hadn’t known exactly which room we’d been in. “Your brother – Don Rosolini – someone tried to kill him.”

HOLY SHIT.

I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, not giving a damn if he saw Caterina behind me. “Is Dario okay?!”

“He’s fine,” Roreto said as he glanced behind me into the bedroom, “but I’m supposed to take you to the safe room.”

“I’ll be there in a minute. You can go.”

When Roreto didn’t move, I yelled at him.

“I SAID GO!”

He nodded and hurried away.

I turned back to Caterina. She’d heard everything, and her face was pale and terrified.

“I have to get you somewhere safe,” I said as I grabbed her hand and pulled her along behind me.

“But your brothers – you have to go to them!”

“After I get you somewhere safe!”

I hustled her down the hallway until we reached a room I knew didn’t have any windows. “Stay in here and lock the door until I come back for you – or you hear the all-clear.”

“The ‘all-clear’?”

“Somebody will shout that it’s safe to come out. But until they do, you stay in here with the door locked – understand?”

“Val…” she whimpered, her voice trembling.

I kissed her hard, then pulled away.

“It’s gonna be okay,” I promised. “Just stay in there with the door locked, and don’t come out until you hear from me or one of the soldiers.”

She nodded and stepped inside.

The last thing I saw was her ghostly white face as the door closed –

And then I ran for the panic room.

20

The stone walls and lack of windows in the panic room were perfect protection from bullets.

When I entered, Dario was holding Alessandra, and Adriano had Bianca in his arms.

Niccolo looked over at me and snarked, “Finally!”

“What happened?”

Before anyone could answer, Alessandra pushed away from Dario’s chest and looked at me frantically. “Where’s Caterina?!”

“She’s safe,” I reassured her. “She’s fine.”

Alessandra calmed down and sank back into Dario’s arms.

“Well, now we know what you were doing,” Niccolo snarked. “Like we couldn’t smell it on you.”

“Do not fucking start with me right now,” I snapped. “What happened?”

Nic glanced at Alessandra, then pulled me aside and whispered, “A sniper tried to hit Dario.”

“Is he okay?” I whispered back.

“He’s fine.”

“What about everybody else?”

“Everyone’s fine.”

I looked around the safe room. “Where’s Roberto?”

“I sent someone to get him.”

“What about Lars?”

“He went after the shooter.”

“Then I’m going with him.”

If Lars was chasing the asshole who came after our family, there was no way I was going to wait around in a safe room.

I turned to leave –

But Niccolo grabbed my arm. “The hell you are!”

“Somebody needs to have his back!” I snarled.

“Half of our foot soldiers are already out there!”

“Then I should go, too!”

“They’re trained for this!”

“So am I!”

Nic knew it was true. He and Roberto had bailed on the military training Lars had put all the foot soldiers through – but me, Massimo, and Adriano had stuck it out to the bitter end.

It wasn’t bragging to say I was one of the best. All our soldiers were pretty good, but I was better than 90% of them.

“You’re a target,” Niccolo whispered harshly.

“If you’re worried about targets, do you really think it’s a good idea to have all of us here in here together?” I challenged him loudly enough for everyone to hear. “What if there’s a bomb?”

I got exactly the reaction I was looking for.

Alessandra and Bianca both gasped.

“Could there be?!” Bianca cried out.

“No!” Niccolo said in exasperation.

“Get him the fuck out of here!” Adriano roared.

Dario just gave me a reproachful look.

Niccolo glared at me and hissed, “After this is all over, you and I are going to have a serious talk.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said dismissively as I bolted out of the panic room.

I sprinted for the armory – another stone room with a locked steel door – and picked up an AR-15.

Then I ran outside to join the foot soldiers.

I headed for the nearest group walking into the olive groves. They were surprised when they saw me running towards them, but I noticed a couple of guys give approving glances at each other, like Not bad.

A guy named Araldo said, “Sir, you should go back to the house.”

“Fuck that,” I snapped. “Are you looking for the shooter?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

And that was that.

21

We didn’t find him.

Lars came back empty-handed, but he confessed to something pretty shocking:

He thought the sniper was a woman.

Even weirder than that, he thought it was a woman he used to date.

As soon as I was alone with Niccolo, I said, “And you thought me sleeping with Caterina was a problem.”

“Ha ha,” Niccolo said without laughing.

After Lars’s big revelation, though, Nic and I never did have that ‘serious talk’ he’d mentioned.

I went and looked for Caterina in the room where I’d hidden her, but she wasn’t there.

After a brief search, I found her with 20 other servants in a windowless room being guarded by foot soldiers. They’d apparently moved her in with everybody else.

I pulled her out of the room and embraced her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine – are you okay?!”

“I’m fine now that I know you’re safe,” I said, and kissed the top of her head.

We didn’t slip away to have sex, though.

Attempted assassinations were kind of a buzzkill –

And I didn’t need Niccolo giving me more shit.

A hell of a lot happened over the next few days.

Massimo got attacked when he went to see the old lady who ran Venice. Shortly after that, he went off the grid with the Widow’s granddaughter. We didn’t hear from him at all, and there was no way to contact him.

For some fuckin’ reason, Niccolo and Roberto just up and left for Hong Kong. No explanation.

When I asked Dario about it, he said, “I’ll tell you when the time is right.”

Which was ‘mafia don’ for Quit asking questions.

Niccolo came back a couple days later without Roberto.

When I asked Nic what happened in Hong Kong, he said, “Business,” and walked away.

Which was ‘consigliere’ for Shut the fuck up and quit asking questions.

At least Dario was nicer about it.

Then Lars left for London to chase down his ex.

We didn’t hear from him after that. He never answered his cell phone.

Things were getting downright dark. Dario and Niccolo were tense as hell, and Adriano walked around like he might explode any second.

Nobody said it out loud, but everybody was worried that Massimo and Lars might be dead.

And nobody would tell me what the fuck was going on with Roberto.

It felt like the whole world was crashing down around us in slow motion…

But at least I had Caterina.

22

Caterina

Things were going awful for Valentino. I could tell because he was distracted and worried, which never happened.

I normally steered clear of asking him anything about his family – but he was so stressed out that I couldn’t help myself.

One night, after we’d had sex in my bedroom, I was lying in his arms with my head on his chest.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“It’s great,” he replied absentmindedly. “You were incredible, like always.”

I smiled. “So were you. But I was talking about everything else going on around the house.”

“…oh.”

Val was quiet for a few seconds, but he finally asked, “What do you know?”

“Well… I’d have to be blind not to notice that Signor Massimo and Signor Roberto are – ”

I could hear the smile in his voice as Valentino interrupted me. “You can just call them Massimo and Roberto. Niccolo’s not waiting in the shadows to jump out and yell at you.”

“If he is, then he’s a pervert,” I joked.

Valentino laughed. “I’ll tell him you said that.”

I bolted up from his chest in a panic. “NO!”

Val laughed even harder. “I was kidding! Relax!”

“Don’t even joke about that.”

Valentino thought my reaction was hilarious, but he rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. You were saying – you’d have to be blind not to notice what?”

“That Signor – uh, Massimo and Roberto are gone. And Mr. Henrik– uh, Lars – is gone, too.”

Valentino frowned a little, but I could tell he was listening intently.

“And Alessandra won’t tell me what’s going on, either,” I continued. “Normally she tells me everything. When she keeps things to herself, I know it’s serious. What’s going on? Are they worried someone will try to kill Don Rosolini again?”

Valentino looked at me for a long moment, then sighed. “You can’t repeat to anybody what I’m about to tell you – understand?”

“I promise.”

“No, I mean, seriously. Dario and Niccolo would get furious if they knew I was talking to you about this.”

My stomach churned in fear.

I absolutely did not want either of them angry with me –

But if I could help Valentino by listening…

“I’ll take it to my grave,” I swore.

Valentino looked satisfied. “You remember my uncle Fausto and Aurelio, my cousin?”

“Of course.”

I’d been happy when they left the house after the death of Valentino’s father.

I hadn’t been so happy to see them at Alessandra’s wedding – and then Adriano and Bianca’s wedding just a week ago.

“He betrayed us,” Valentino snarled. “Uncle Fausto is the one who tried to have Dario killed.”

It was like he’d thrown a bucket of ice-cold water on me.

“What?!” I whispered in shock. “He’s your family!”

“I know,” Valentino said grimly.

“But – that’s horrible!”

“I know.”

“Is that why Massimo and Roberto and Lars are gone? To try to – to take care of it?”

I couldn’t bring myself to say To kill your uncle.

“It’s complicated,” Valentino replied. “Massimo is helping out another family after Aurelio attacked them. Lars went after the shooter who tried to kill Dario… and who the hell knows what Roberto’s doing.”

“So everybody’s worried,” I said, finally realizing why Alessandra always looked so nervous and pale.

“They’re trying to keep their shit together, but, yeah – everybody’s losing their fuckin’ minds.”

“You poor thing… you must be so stressed out…”

“That’s putting it mildly,” he grunted.

I stroked his face tenderly with my hand. “What can I do to help you?”

Just a second later, I felt his cock brush against my side. He had been soft as I laid on top of him – but now I could feel him growing erect, heartbeat by heartbeat.

“Oh,” I said humorously, and reached my hand down and held him. Madonn, he felt so good in my hand… thick and heavy, big and hot, and getting harder every second. “I see somebody woke up.”

Valentino grinned and said, “That’s how you can help me.”

“How?” I said seductively as I ran my fingers up and down his rapidly hardening cock.

“By helping me forget all that other shit,” he murmured, then rolled me onto my back.

I helped him forget a lot that night.

Several times, actually.

23

Valentino

No matter how bad things got with my family, I always had Caterina to calm me down.

But then things got a shit-ton worse.

One afternoon, I was about to go find Caterina and drag her away for a quickie when Niccolo intercepted me in the hallway.

“Come into the parlor,” he said grimly. “We need to have a serious discussion.”

Shit.

I figured he’d finally gotten around to chewing me out for that crack I made about the bomb in the panic room.

As I followed him into the room, I protested, “Look, I didn’t mean to…”

I trailed off when I saw Dario sitting behind his desk in the corner.

He only did that when something big was about to go down.

“Mean to what?” Niccolo asked as he shut the door behind us.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Sit,” Dario said in his mafia don voice.

Like, Do what I say or there will be consequences.

I sat down nervously in one of the chairs.

Niccolo sat on the sofa and stared at me grimly.

“Why is everybody being so serious?” I asked.

“We sent Massimo to Venice to court the Widow as an ally,” Niccolo answered. “That’s why he’s protecting Signora Fioretti’s granddaughter – so that if we get the chance to argue our case before the Council, we’ll have the Widow on our side.”

The Council was a meeting of the most powerful Cosa Nostra families in Italy. It didn’t happen very often; in fact, it had only happened a few times since I was a kid, back when Papa was still alive.

The night of Adriano’s wedding, when we found out Fausto had betrayed us, Dario had suggested calling a meeting of the Council.

At the time, Niccolo had said we needed more proof.

Maybe we had enough proof now…

But I still didn’t understand why that would stress Nic and Dario out so much.

“Why do we need the Widow on our side?” I asked.

“When the Council hears a case, every family gets a single vote. However, five of them –Rome, Venice, Sicily, Naples, and Milan, the five most powerful families – get two votes apiece. If they vote together – which they often do – then they can overrule the rest of the Council. So it’s crucial that we peel off as many votes as possible from the Five Families.”

That was interesting. I’d never known that before.

“Since we’re the ones bringing the case, we don’t get a vote,” Niccolo continued. “And as the accused party, Fausto and Aurelio won’t get a vote, either. Which means we need as many people on our side as possible.

“We can count on the Oldanis from Genoa since Alessandra is their granddaughter.”

That had been a big surprise – finding out that Alessandra was actually a secret mafia princess. Her father had been a servant for the Oldanis; after they fell in love and Alessandra’s mother got pregnant, they ran away to start a new life. Alessandra had grown up not knowing anything about her grandparents.

“But some of the families can be bribed,” Niccolo continued. “I’m absolutely certain that Fausto paid them off, so we need as many of the Five Families to back us as possible. Hence sending Massimo to Venice.”

“Okay – but why are you guys acting so grim?”

Niccolo sighed. “We’ve made overtures to Don Vicari of Sicily. Do you remember him?”

Hell yeah, I remembered him. Scary motherfucker with a big, bushy black mustache. I’d seen him at several weddings when I was a kid. What I remembered most about him – other than the mustache – was how all the other mafia dons gave him a wide berth. When Don Vicari’s name got mentioned, Papa would mutter under his breath and cross himself.

Sicily was the birthplace of the Cosa Nostra, and Don Vicari was old-school mafia. Coldblooded as fuck. No mercy, no quarter.

“I remember,” I said. “What about him?”

“He’s agreed to throw his support behind us… for a price.”

I laughed and scoffed at the same time. Made sense he’d try to extort us. “How much does he want?”

Niccolo looked pained. “He doesn’t want money.”

“Then what? Part of our territory?”

“No.” Niccolo paused. “He wants a husband for his youngest daughter.”

I frowned. “But what does that have to do with…”

I trailed off as soon as I realized exactly what Niccolo meant.

“ME?!” I shouted in disbelief.

Niccolo didn’t say anything. Neither did Dario –

But their silence was all the confirmation I needed.

“What the FUCK!” I roared. “Why ME?!”

“Dario’s married. So is Adriano. Massimo is…” Niccolo paused. “…out of contact at the moment.”

“What about Roberto?!”

“He’s on official family business in Hong Kong.”

“So?!”

“So Don Vicari has requested an immediate audience.”

“Make him wait until Roberto gets back!”

“One does not tell Don Vicari to wait,” Niccolo said darkly. “Besides, Roberto handles all the money for the family. We can’t afford to lose him.”

“Well – YOU do it, then!”

“I’m the family’s consigliere. I’m not moving to Sicily.”

“Then make her move here!”

“That was another one of Don Vicari’s conditions: that her husband stay in Sicily with the family.”

At that, I jumped up from my seat. “NO!”

“Valentino – ” Niccolo warned.

“FUCK THAT! I have a life here! I have shit going on! I’m not just going to – ”

“Valentino,” Dario growled from the corner.

A shiver went down my spine.

It was like hearing a wolf snarl ten feet away from you when you hadn’t even known it was there.

It was the only thing he’d said since he’d told me to sit. I’d almost forgotten he was even in the room.

I immediately got quieter and more respectful, but I kept on talking.

I knew who I had to convince… and it wasn’t Niccolo.

“Dar– ” I started, then immediately caught myself when he narrowed his eyes. “Don Rosolini… please… I’m begging you. Please don’t make me do this. Please.”

Dario glared at me, then looked at Niccolo.

Sort of like, YOU handle this.

My stomach dropped as I realized maybe it was Niccolo I had to convince…

Which meant it was a lost cause.

Once Nic decided he wanted something done his way, he never compromised. He was like a pit bull with a bone.

I had to try anyway, though.

“Why Don Vicari?” I pleaded as I turned back to Niccolo. “Why can’t we cut a deal with the families in Rome – or Naples, or Milan?”

“Because none of them will talk to me,” Niccolo said coldly. “I tried calling all of them dozens of times. Don Vicari was the only one who responded.”

“Try again!”

“What’s the fucking problem here? We’re not asking you to cut off your left nut – we’re asking you to go live in a palace in Sicily!”

“What if I don’t want to go live in a palace in Sicily?” I said angrily.

“‘What if I don’t want to go live in a palace in Sicily?’” Niccolo mimicked me, making me sound like a whiny little bitch. “Everyone else has been called on to sacrifice for the family. Now it’s your turn, so man the fuck up.”

“Who’s fucking sacrificed for the family?” I shot back – and immediately regretted it.

Niccolo looked livid. “Well, for ONE, Dario took the fall for all of us and went to prison!”

I winced. “Yeah, okay – ”

“He spent four years in that shithole San Vittore while Camorra assassins tried to slit his throat!”

San Vittore was the worst prison in all of Italy.

The Camorra was another organized crime group in Italy – and the sworn enemies of the Cosa Nostra.

“I know, I know,” I said regretfully, knowing I’d fucked up.

But Niccolo was just getting started.

“Adriano nearly got killed by Mezzasalma in Florence! Massimo is currently putting his life on the line so we can get the Widow on our side! Lars, who’s not even our flesh and blood, could be dead for all we know!”

“And Roberto’s having to sign a bunch of contracts in Hong Kong,” I said sarcastically.

“Don’t fucking start about Roberto,” Niccolo snarled. “When you’ve carried the entire family’s finances on your shoulders, then you can say something.”

“What about you?” I challenged him. “What the fuck have you sacrificed?”

Niccolo stood up from the sofa, his face a mask of fury.

I had to admit, he looked intimidating as fuck.

“I’M the one who keeps the family’s continued existence forefront in my mind, day and night! After Dario, I’m the one who bears responsibility for whether we live or die while you’re off fucking the help!”

“Don’t talk about her that way!” I yelled at him.

Niccolo looked shocked –

And then he burst out laughing.

Which just made me angrier.

“Is that what this is all about?!” he asked incredulously. “You don’t want to stop banging that kitchen girl?!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I roared.

I was so enraged, I cocked back my arm to punch him in the face.

I saw a flash of surprise in Niccolo’s eyes –

But before I could do anything, Dario roared, “VALENTINO!”

I froze and looked over at him.

Dario was standing behind his desk.

He looked angrier than I’d ever seen him before.

I dropped my arm.

Nic asked in an ice-cold voice, “Were you about to hit your consigliere, Valentino?”

“No,” I snarled, “I was about to hit my brother, who’s being a fucking asshole.”

“Because he said something about the servant girl you’re sleeping with,” Niccolo said sarcastically.

I glared at him. “Her name is Caterina.”

Niccolo burst out laughing again. “Oh – excuse me! ‘Caterina.’ I didn’t realize you two were about to get married.”

“We’re – no – ”

“Are you two serious, or not?” Nic demanded.

I felt like I was standing naked on a stage with a spotlight on me.

“Well… no, but – ”

Niccolo immediately became angry again. “Well, if you’re not serious, then what the fuck does it MATTER if you marry Don Vicari’s daughter?!”

I squinted as I tried to remember. “Have I ever even met her? She never came to any of the weddings, did she?”

“No,” Niccolo conceded. “Don Vicari was very protective of her. Apparently, she’s never left Sicily.”

“So you want me to marry some girl I’ve never even seen before?! How do I know if I could even fall in love with her?!”

Niccolo reacted like I was insane. “Do you even know what an arranged marriage is? It’s not about love – it’s an alliance between two families! That’s it.”

“Yeah, but I’m the one who has to stay married to her forever!”

Niccolo sighed in exasperation. “Jesus, are you that naïve? You fuck her, she pops out some kids, Don Vicari’s happy, and we get a long-term ally. In the meantime, you can bang all the kitchen girls in Sicily you want on the side. It’s a win-win.”

“Dario didn’t have an arranged marriage!” I shouted. “He married for love! So did Adriano! So did Papa and Mama – ”

“What’s your fucking point?” Niccolo snarled.

“My point is, when I get married, I want to get married for love!”

Niccolo laughed. “Ohhhhh – now you’re Mr. Romantic. And I suppose you’ll be completely faithful to this hypothetical wife?”

“Yes!”

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” he sneered. “You’ll fuck anything that walks by in a skirt – ”

“NOT SINCE I’VE BEEN WITH CATERINA!”

My outburst took even me by surprise.

It was the first time I’d admitted it to anyone in my family.

Once again, Niccolo looked at me in total shock. “You really are serious about this girl, aren’t you?”

“I…”

I trailed off.

It felt like it was too much to say that Caterina and I were serious.

As much as I liked her – as much as I wanted her – I couldn’t bring myself to go that far.

“Valentino,” Dario said quietly.

Both Niccolo and I looked over at him.

He walked out from behind the desk and stood in front of me. His eyes seemed to bore straight into my soul. “Caterina is Alessandra’s best friend. She was the maid of honor at our wedding.”

“Yes,” I agreed, not knowing where this was going.

“I don’t relish the prospect of breaking the heart of my wife’s best friend,” Dario said grimly. “So if you agree to marry Caterina today… I’ll call off the deal with Don Vicari.”

I stared at Dario in shock.

MARRY her?

“Dario!” Niccolo hissed, but immediately fell silent when Dario raised one hand.

He didn’t even look at Niccolo; the entire time, Dario kept his eyes focused on mine.

“You mean… I just have to agree to marry Cat?” I asked in shock.

“No. I mean, you marry her today. I’ll call in a priest from Florence to officiate. We can get the forms taken care of through a judge on our payroll. We’ll have the marriage here in the house this afternoon. Just us – just the family.

“Not only that, but you swear to me you’ll be faithful to her your entire life. No other women, no affairs. I’m not risking our family’s future on a sham marriage you agree to just so you can sleep with dozens of other women.

“You agree to all that – the marriage and lifelong faithfulness – and I’ll call off the deal with Don Vicari.

“So… what will it be?” he finished.

“I…”

I couldn’t make my mouth work.

It just…

Moving this fast…

It was insane!

“Well?” Dario asked.

I looked helplessly between him and Niccolo.

“Your don asked you a question,” Niccolo snapped.

“I… I just… I’m not ready to settle down yet,” I said miserably.

It was the truth.

Caterina was great –

She was amazing –

But I was only 22 years old.

I hadn’t thought I’d get married until I was at least as old as Dario.

I had my entire life to live…

And I didn’t want to trade away all my freedom.

As soon as I said it, Dario’s shoulders dropped the tiniest bit.

Like he was either relieved…

Or disappointed.

But he didn’t say anything.

Niccolo was a lot more vocal.

“FUCK you!” he snarled at me. “This isn’t about Caterina – this was never about her! This is about you being an immature asshole and not being willing to do your part for the family!”

I was once again considering punching Nic when Dario snapped, “Consigliere – you’re not helping.”

Niccolo immediately went silent.

Dario turned to me. “In an effort to make you see our point of view, I’m going to tell you everything – but you are not to repeat it to anyone else. Not even to Adriano, and certainly not to Alessandra or Bianca. Do you understand?”

“…yes,” I said, suddenly very nervous.

“You already know that Massimo and Lars are out of contact. We obviously hope it’s not the case, but we have to face the possibility that they’re both dead.

“What you don’t know is that Fausto extorted and blackmailed various bank officials. The morning the assassin shot at me, those bank officials helped Fausto transfer 28 million euros out of our accounts. He essentially destroyed our finances in one fell swoop.”

I stared at Dario in shock. “We’re broke?”

“We have enough money to last another month, if that. Roberto is in Hong Kong trying to get back the 50 million euros we invested with the gambling syndicate so we’ll have the resources to keep fighting. If Roberto doesn’t succeed, then Don Vicari’s support might be our only chance at survival.”

What Dario was saying was horrifying…

That we were crippled and on the verge of death…

And yet, I still couldn’t bring myself to agree to what he wanted.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do this if the situation weren’t dire,” Dario said.

“Then don’t ask me,” I pleaded.

He sighed sternly. “If you won’t honor my request, then you will follow my command. You will marry Don Vicari’s daughter. Am I understood?”

There was nothing more I could do or say.

My don had spoken.

“…yes, Don Rosolini,” I whispered.

Dario patted me on the shoulder consolingly, then walked towards the door. “Say your goodbyes, but make it quick.”

“What?” I asked in shock.

“We’re flying out in half an hour,” Niccolo said sourly.

I stared at him in shock. “Half an hour?”

“What, is that not enough time for one last fuck for the road?” he sneered.

I was going to break his jaw, I swore to GOD –

“Niccolo,” Dario said sharply as he opened the door.

Niccolo sighed resentfully. “Alright… you can take a little bit longer than half an hour.”

Dario nodded, then left the room.

“And what’s this ‘we’re flying out’ part?” I asked in alarm.

“You and I are going to Sicily,” Niccolo said.

GREAT.

“I thought we couldn’t fly anywhere,” I said, trying to weasel my way out of it.

“Roberto and I flew to Hong Kong.”

“Yeah, and Lars said you were taking an insane risk!”

“Don Vicari sent his own plane.”

“It’s already here?!” I asked in astonishment.

“Yes. And he has personally guaranteed our safety.”

“And you believe him?!”

Niccolo smirked. “Here’s the first lesson for your new life: when a Sicilian swears to you on his mother’s life, do not question his integrity. It will not go well for you.”

The idea of going to live in Sicily –

Of getting married to some girl I’d never seen before –

Of leaving Caterina –

It made me physically sick.

“Go say your goodbyes,” Niccolo ordered.

“What the fuck am I supposed to tell her?” I asked, panicked.

“I don’t know – tell her it was fun. Tell her it’s not your fault. Tell her you have to fulfill your duty to your family. I don’t care what you tell her – just GO!” he snapped as he pushed me roughly towards the door. “And make it fast!”

I shuffled out of the room like a zombie.

It was like my feet were encased in lead…

And my heart felt even heavier.

It only got worse from there.

24

Caterina

Iwas working in the kitchen when Valentino walked in.

I saw his body out of the corner of my eye – I could identify him from his broad shoulders and muscular arms a hundred feet away – and I smiled automatically as I looked over at him.

My smile died when I saw his expression.

He looked like death warmed over.

I wiped my hands off on a dish towel and quickly walked over to him.

Marianna was making pasta at the other end of the kitchen island. She tried to act like she wasn’t going to eavesdrop, but I ignored her.

“Did something happen to your brothers?!” I whispered, my heart beating faster with fear.

“…no… not exactly…” Val muttered, his voice a croak. Then he took my hand. “I need you to come with me.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Marianna. She was openly staring now, but looked away when I caught her eye.

“I’m working,” I whispered.

He grabbed my hand. “We need to talk.”

His words were as frightening to me as a moan from a graveyard at midnight.

“O-okay,” I stuttered, and let him lead me out of the kitchen and down the hall.

Valentino didn’t say anything, and I didn’t ask, but I felt absolutely sick with dread.

If it wasn’t something about his brothers getting hurt, then it could only be one thing:

Niccolo had finally ordered him to stop seeing me.

Or… even worse… maybe Don Rosolini had given the order.

Niccolo had always looked down on us sleeping together. Val told me it was because his brother thought it was bad for morale.

I had to admit, Niccolo had a point. The gossip about me and Val was non-stop. A lot of times when I entered a room, my co-workers would abruptly quit speaking and look away, like they’d been talking about me behind my back.

The gossip I could deal with.

Niccolo was a much bigger problem.

I never told Valentino, but I secretly believed that bad morale wasn’t Niccolo’s only objection.

I figured Niccolo thought I was unworthy of his little brother.

Me – a lowly servant – and Val, a Rosolini. The richest and most powerful family in Tuscany.

It didn’t matter to Niccolo that Alessandra had worked in a café when Dario met her (probably because she turned out to be a long-lost mafia princess).

It also didn’t matter that Alessandra’s father had been a servant before he’d run off with Alessandra’s mother.

No. Valentino was Niccolo’s brother, and I was a nobody who worked in the kitchen.

Thank God Valentino had ignored Niccolo’s objections up until now –

But it was only because no one had given him a direct order.

I knew that if Don Rosolini told Valentino to stop, he would have no choice.

I’d feared all along that this day was coming, and it broke my heart.

Valentino led me into a deserted bedroom and closed the door.

For a moment, I held out hope that maybe something bad had happened – that Val just needed comforting – and I glanced at the bed.

I fantasized about taking him tenderly into my arms… holding him… kissing him… and making love to him to make him forget all his troubles.

Unfortunately, none of that happened.

Not even close.

“What is it, baby?” I whispered as I caressed his cheek with my hand.

He stared at me for what seemed like forever, looking like a condemned man about to be hanged…

And then he brought my world crashing down.

“My brother Niccolo set up an arranged marriage with a family in Sicily. I… I have to marry some girl.”

Of all the things I had been expecting to hear, ‘arranged marriage’ would never have made the list. Not in a million years.

I staggered backwards like he’d punched me.

“W-what?! Why?!”

“It’s this war with Fausto I told you about. We need allies, and apparently this is the only way to get them.” Val scoffed bitterly. “According to Niccolo, anyway.”

I looked back at the bed.

Just a second ago, I had thought maybe we would tumble into it.

Now I wondered how many nights we had left.

“When is all this supposed to happen?” I asked, tears blurring my eyes.

He winced. “I… I have to leave as soon as I walk out of this room.”

Horror flooded my body.

“WHAT?! NO – tell them no!”

“…I can’t. Dario gave me a direct order.”

When he said that, my heart stopped for a second.

I tried to pretend I just worked for a rich family in the countryside…

But I knew the Rosolinis were mafia.

And whatever else you did in a mafia family, you never went against your don. That was a guaranteed death sentence.

Valentino had never told me that; no one in the house had. It was just common knowledge from growing up in Italy. You absorbed the lesson in childhood, like Boys do this and girls do that.

If Don Rosolini had given Valentino a direct order… then it was hopeless.

If he’d just told us not to see each other, we could have cooled things off for a couple of weeks. After that, I knew I could count on Alessandra to argue my case for me. I was sure she could get me back in Don Rosolini’s good graces.

Even if the situation was worse – if Valentino had broken up with me of his own accord – that would have been horrible, but there would still be a chance we could get back together.

But this?

Marriage?!

And in Sicily?!

There was no coming back from this.

This was the end –

There was absolutely no hope.

I still tried to bargain, though.

“We can leave – we can run away together,” I said desperately.

Valentino looked at me like I was insane. “I can’t do that. I can’t go against my family.”

“Baby – ”

He grabbed my hands and held them tight. “I’m sorry. I’m more sorry for this than anything else in my entire life… but I have to do what they tell me, Caterina. I’m sorry.”

That was when I broke down.

He held me in his arms as I sobbed uncontrollably.

We stood like that for nearly five minutes, me crying against his chest…

Until there was finally a break in my tears.

Then he tilted my face back gently with his fingers so he could look me in the eyes.

“…I’m sorry,” he whispered, then kissed me gently on the lips.

It was the most tender kiss he had ever given me –

And I drank it in like wine.

Then… it was over.

“I have to go,” he whispered again…

And with one tortured look back at me, he walked out the door and closed it behind him.

For a second, I just stood there trembling –

And then I collapsed on the floor in a heap, wailing like a dying animal.

I was in more pain than I had ever felt in my life.

Amidst the agony, the truth became crystal clear to me –

A truth I had tried to ignore from the very first time we were together.

I was in love with him…

And now I had lost him forever.

25

Valentino

When I walked away from the bedroom, I heard Caterina howl in pain –

And I wanted to die.

But I kept on walking. I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other and make my way up the stairs to my room.

I told myself over and over again, It was just a fling…

It wasn’t serious…

She’ll get over it.

But at the moment, it felt like I might never get over her.

Not that I would have admitted that to anyone.

Hell, I couldn’t even admit it to myself.

I threw some clothes and shoes into several suitcases, along with some suits in hang-up bags.

When I was almost ready to go, Niccolo walked in. “Don’t forget to bring your tuxedo.”

“Why?” I asked angrily.

“Because you’ll need it to get married in.”

He walked out, and I snarled under my breath, “Motherfucker.”

But I packed the tuxedo all the same.

A foot soldier drove me and Niccolo out to the airfield amongst the olive trees. I ignored my brother the entire way.

An old jet was waiting for us on the airstrip.

And when I say ‘old,’ I mean old. The fucking thing looked like it was out of the 1970s.

“We’re supposed to fly in that?!” I exclaimed as we pulled up.

“Second lesson,” Niccolo said. “When a Sicilian offers you something – whether it’s a ride on his plane or a glass of wine – never, ever criticize it. EVER.”

I scowled at him as we got out of the car.

The foot soldier carried my suitcases, and I took the hang-up bags with the suit and tuxedo.

I noticed Niccolo didn’t have so much as a carry-on.

“You’re not bringing any clothes?” I asked.

“I won’t be there that long.”

“But I’ll be there for fucking ever,” I snarled.

Nic didn’t say anything.

We boarded the jet, which had seats that looked like they hadn’t been replaced since 1979. The leather was scuffed and ripped in places.

There wasn’t a stewardess to help, so I just stashed my bags in a closet near the entrance.

“Can’t this guy afford a better jet?” I muttered to Niccolo.

“What did I say about criticizing Sicilians?” Niccolo whispered harshly.

“Yeah, yeah. Is he poor or something?”

Niccolo smiled grimly. “He’s probably the richest man in the Cosa Nostra. Only the Widow of Venice has more money.”

“And he can’t get a new fuckin’ jet?”

Niccolo gave me a SHUT THE FUCK UP look as the pilot came out of the cockpit.

He was an old guy, probably close to 70, and brown as a walnut from years in the sun. He looked pretty strong, but it was hard to ignore the white hair – on his head and growing out of his ears.

He told us gruffly in a Sicilian accent that we’d be in Palermo – the capital of Sicily – in an hour and a half. Then he told us to strap in and went back to the cockpit.

“Maybe Don Vicari should get a new pilot, too,” I muttered.

“I’d bet you a million dollars that guy has flown combat missions in the military,” Niccolo said. “Not to mention a thousand drug runs through NATO and Russian territory. If there’s anybody in the world you want flying your plane through a storm, that’s the guy.”

I looked at Niccolo dubiously.

“You have a lot to learn about Sicilians,” he said drily.

I took a seat as far away from Niccolo as I could get. For most of the flight, I just stared out the window and ignored him completely.

About halfway there, though, he came over and sat down in the seat opposite me.

“I realize you hate me right now,” he said, “but I’m trying to do what’s best for the family.”

“Which includes fucking me over, apparently,” I snarled without looking at him.

“If it’s the girl – ”

“She has a name.”

“If it’s Caterina, then why didn’t you take Dario up on his offer?”

He didn’t say it snidely or anything – but the question enraged me all the same.

“I’m 22 years old,” I said. “What the fuck were you doing when you were 22?”

“Preparing to be a consigliere,” he said quietly.

“Oh, that’s all you were doing? ‘Cause I seem to remember you, Dario, Adriano, and Massimo partying your asses off.”

“But not Roberto?”

“I don’t think Roberto would know a party if it spat in his face.”

Niccolo chuckled. “That’s probably true.” Then he grew more serious. “We had our fun back in the day, yes… but it wasn’t all fun. Dario wasn’t much older than you are now when he went off to prison.”

“He was 26 – not 22. And he got out of prison. Somehow, I don’t think I’m going to be getting out of this marriage.”

“Dario got out, yes, but he only got out alive because he met Lars. People tried to kill them all the time in San Vittore.”

“And, what, it’s gonna be peace and love where I’m going? No danger at all? Give me a fucking break.”

Niccolo narrowed his eyes. “In the past, whenever war broke out, I’m sure the men who got drafted bitched and moaned about all the guys before them who hadn’t had to serve. But in the end, when war comes, they hand you a gun, and you go fight.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get as many good years as Dario and Adriano and I had, but believe me: war has come to our doorstep. Times have changed. We’ve all picked up our guns, and now it’s your turn to serve. I’m sorry it had to be this way, but don’t get angry at me – get angry at Fausto and Aurelio.”

“Oh, believe me, if I ever get the chance, I’m going to shoot them both in the back of the head,” I snarled. “But it’s not Fausto or Aurelio who’s forcing me to go to Sicily.”

“No, it’s not. It’s me and Dario,” Niccolo said. “And you can hate us for the rest of your life, if you want.”

“I’m pretty sure it was all your idea, so I just think I’ll hate you for the rest of my life.”

“Be that as it may… if you don’t marry Don Vicari’s daughter, and he and the rest of the Council vote against our family… then Fausto gets to do whatever the fuck he wants. And right now, he’s winning. So when you get gunned down like they tried to do to Massimo last week, and you’re lying there bleeding in the dirt, you’ll be wishing you’d gone to live a life of luxury in the Sicilian countryside.”

“At least I’d die a free man, with a gun in my hand and nobody telling me what the fuck to do,” I snapped.

“Then I guess you should have taken Dario’s deal,” Niccolo said coldly.

He got up and walked away.

I guess you should have taken Dario’s deal.

I hated Niccolo with a passion right now –

But his words had the ring of truth.

I thought back to Caterina, my heart aching, and wondered, Why didn’t I?

Why DIDN’T I take the deal?

If I was going to be honest, it’s because it scared the shit out of me.

Dario’s words echoed in my memory:

You SWEAR to me you’ll be faithful to her your entire life. No other women – no affairs.

I was 22 years old. I had no fucking clue what I wanted out of life –

But I knew I didn’t want to have to make that decision right now.

I wanted time.

I wanted to party.

I wanted to be young.

Did I care for Caterina?

Hell yes, I cared for her.

I couldn’t keep my hands off her. I wanted her, deep in my bones.

But promising to be married to her for the next 50 years?

And never getting to touch another woman, ever?

That scared the hell out of me.

And, yeah, while I was getting forced into a similar mess by having to marry some chick I’d never even met…

It felt different.

In one situation, I was being forced to do it.

In the other… I’d have to willingly do it.

I’d have to make the choice.

And as fucked up as it sounds…

I almost preferred being forced to do it.

At least that way, I could hate Niccolo and blame him…

Instead of putting it all on myself.

But one other thought lingered in the back of my mind:

Maybe there was something I could do or say that would blow this whole thing up.

Maybe I could make Don Vicari come to the conclusion that I wasn’t the right guy for his daughter.

If I could make him bail on the deal…

Then maybe I could go back home to Caterina…

And it would be like none of this had ever happened.

26

Caterina

For almost half an hour, I lay curled up on the spare bedroom floor, sobbing my heart out.

I hurt so bad it felt like I might die.

Actually, I wanted to die.

I just wanted this awful hurting inside me to end.

When my tears finally slowed down, I realized I should probably clock out and tell them I wasn’t feeling well. That way, I could go back to my room and not have to try to fake it through the rest of the workday.

I didn’t think I could handle the stares and whispers once the story got out. And thanks to Marianna hearing Valentino say, “We need to talk,” I was pretty sure it would get out pretty damn quick. Especially once somebody saw me and put two and two together.

I went to the bathroom to clean up. Thank God I hadn’t worn much makeup today, because what little I had on was a mess. I washed up and did my best to look presentable, but my eyes were still red and swollen.

If I could just make it to the kitchen without being stopped…

Or without breaking down again…

That last part was the hardest. Not starting to cry again.

I kept my head down as I walked back to work.

A couple of other servants walked by, but they rarely talked to me anyway, so they didn’t notice.

But Alessandra did.

I was almost to the kitchen when she saw me. She was coming down the hallway in the opposite direction, and she called out cheerfully, “Hi, Caterina!”

When I heard her voice, my heart stopped in my chest.

I thought about turning around and running in the other direction –

But my feet froze.

I looked up the tiniest bit –

And out of the edge of my vision, I saw her happy expression turn to worry.

“Caterina?” she said as she walked up to me. “What’s wrong?”

I lifted my face – and as soon as I made eye contact with her, my lip started to tremble and the tears started flowing.

“Caterina!” she cried out in alarm as she wrapped her arms around me.

As soon as my head was on her shoulder, I started crying again. My entire body shook with my sobs.

“What’s wrong?!” she asked as she stroked my hair. Then her voice turned angry. “Did Valentino do something?!”

“N-n-no…”

She held me at arm’s length and dipped her head so she could look into my downcast eyes. “Cat, tell me the truth: did he cheat on you?”

I shook my head ‘no.’

Alessandra frowned. “Was he cruel to you? Did he hurt you?”

“N-no… it w-wasn’t his fault…”

“What wasn’t his fault?!”

“N-Niccolo said that because of the stuff going on with their uncle, they h-had to get allies… so he t-took Valentino to S-Sicily for an arranged marriage.”

On those last two words, I burst into a howl of pain.

Not as loud as the howl Alessandra gave, though.

“WHAT?!” She put her hands on my cheeks and forced me to look at her. “Niccolo forced Valentino into an arranged MARRIAGE?!”

She looked both shocked and outraged.

I nodded ‘yes.’

Then Alessandra got this look on her face.

If she’d had a gun in her hand, I would have yelled for Niccolo to run (even if he was responsible for breaking my heart).

“Come with me,” she snarled, then took me by the hand and started pulling me behind her through the hall.

I had never seen Alessandra angry before. Ever. She’d told me she’d occasionally been snippy with Dario back when he brought her to the mansion against her will – but I’d never witnessed her anger firsthand.

I could honestly say this after having seen her:

When she was pissed, Alessandra was scary.

I went with her willingly, not really thinking about where she was leading me –

Until we reached the parlor.

The room where the Rosolini men always met to discuss business.

Mafia business.

A foot soldier stood in front of the door, his hands crossed in front of his suit jacket.

He looked at Alessandra in surprise –

“Out of my way!” she yelled.

The guy’s eyes widened, and he immediately stepped back from the door.

When the mafia don’s wife yells at you to do something, you do it.

As soon as I realized what Alessandra had in mind, I dug in my heels and started trying to pull my hand out of her grip. All my tears immediately dried up as absolute terror gripped me.

“It’s okay, I’m alright, I’m fine now!” I babbled frantically.

“Nonsense – you are not alright! NONE of it is, and I plan to get to the bottom of it!”Alessandra pulled me forward with unbelievable strength as she banged open the door.

“DARIO!” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

Oh SHIT – oh shit, oh shit, oh SHIT –

The Don was alone, sitting at his desk and reading some papers.

As soon as he heard Alessandra’s shouting, he looked up in alarm –

And then he saw me.

Don Rosolini immediately closed his eyes like he had a migraine.

“Sir?” a voice asked off to my left.

I looked over to see one of the family’s foot soldiers standing guard.

“It’s alright, Onofrio,” the Don said wearily. “Please give us a minute.”

The guy quickly left the room.

I would have given just about anything to go with him.

Especially when Alessandra started yelling.

“What is this I hear about Niccolo taking Valentino off to Sicily for an arranged MARRIAGE?!” she shouted.

I mentally crossed myself as I watched the Don. He did not look happy.

Mother Mary and all the saints in heaven, please protect me –

Don Rosolini scowled. “We need to talk about this in private.”

“No, we don’t – we need to talk about it RIGHT NOW!” Alessandra yelled. “Did you really send Valentino off to Sicily to get married?!”

“Niccolo came up with the plan, but yes, I agreed to – ”

“HOW COULD YOU?!” Alessandra shouted. “You know he and Caterina are in love!”

Oh shit!

I didn’t know if I’d go quite that far.

Well…

Actually…

After the way my heart had broken into a thousand pieces…

I knew I was in love with Valentino.

But I had no idea if he felt that way about me.

I knew he was amazing in bed…

And I knew he always made sure I had at least five or six orgasms for every one of his…

But love?

He’d never told me he loved me.

So for Alessandra to say that he was in love with me…

I wasn’t sure that was the truth.

But all that was forgotten as Don Rosolini stood up from his desk.

If I ever walked by a graveyard at midnight and saw the Grim Reaper rise up from amongst the graves…

I was pretty sure he would look like Don Rosolini at that moment.

His face was dark, and his eyes were furious as he walked slowly around the desk and came towards us.

Alessandra, though?

She didn’t seem fazed at all.

She just scowled right back at her husband.

Me?

I would have been running in the other direction if I hadn’t been frozen to the spot in terror.

He stopped right in front of Alessandra, looming over both of us.

Without looking at me, he said coldly, “Caterina, if you would wait outside.”

I whispered, “Yes, Don Roso– ”

“No!” Alessandra snapped. “She deserves to be here to hear whatever you’re going to say!”

Don Rosolini stared down at Alessandra.

If he ever looked at me like that, I think I would have crawled off into a corner to die.

“Let go of her hand,” he said to his wife. “Now.”

His voice was eerily calm, but it was scary.

Alessandra glared at him for a second –

But she finally relented and let go of my wrist.

I was too frightened to move.

“Caterina,” he said calmly, though he never took his eyes away from Alessandra’s face.

“Yes, Don Rosolini,” I whispered and nearly fell over my own feet as I scurried away.

“Don’t go far, Cat!” Alessandra called out to me.

I didn’t have it in me to answer. I just opened the door and stumbled out.

When I got into the hall, Onofrio and the other foot soldier – the one Alessandra had ordered out of the way – were standing on either side of me…

With their ears pretty close to the door.

I realized they were eavesdropping.

Mother Mary and Joseph – did everybody in this house gossip?

Onofrio closed the door gently behind me.

That was when the yelling began.

At least from Alessandra.

“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!”

“Lower your voice,” the Don said coldly.

“Alright – what the hell were you thinking?!” she said in a quieter but no less angry voice.

I knew I should leave.

I knew this was a private discussion between the two of them –

And I would get in so much trouble if the Don caught me –

But I desperately wanted to know what had happened with Valentino.

I looked at Onofrio, waiting for him to shoo me away –

But he just cocked one eyebrow and put a finger to his mouth.

Shhhh.

Alright… if he was going to let me stay, then I had to hear.

“We’re in a war with Fausto,” Don Rosolini said. “We need allies. Niccolo thought that the Sicilians were our best bet. Our only bet.”

“Niccolo, Niccolo, Niccolo,” Alessandra spat. “Just because he comes up with some cockamamie idea, you think you have to go along with it?!”

“You don’t understand.”

“I understand that they love each other!”

What Don Rosolini said next made me cringe – partly because I already feared it was true.

“Valentino doesn’t love her.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I offered to let him out of the arranged marriage if he married Caterina instead… and he said ‘no.’”

The Don’s words…

They simultaneously knocked the wind out of me and ripped what remained of my heart out of my chest.

Onofrio winced sympathetically…

But I barely noticed.

I just stumbled away from the door, stunned…

And then burst into tears as I ran for my room.

27

Valentino

The pilot announced over the intercom that we’d be landing in Palermo in 15 minutes. Between the crackling of the speaker and his Sicilian accent, I could barely understand him.

Niccolo came over, sat down opposite me, and buckled up.

“You can literally sit anywhere else in the plane,” I snapped, gesturing at the empty seats around us.

“Not if I want to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to YOU.”

“Good, you can just listen. That’ll make it shorter.”

“Niccolo – ”

“Shut up. This might be our last opportunity to talk by ourselves, and you need to know what you’re walking into.”

I stared at him. “What do you mean, ‘what I’m walking into’?”

“Sicilians aren’t the same as other families in the Cosa Nostra, and you haven’t been around any of them long enough to know the differences.”

“Papa was Sicilian,” I pointed out.

“Nonni and Nonna were from the old country, yes,” Niccolo said, using the words for ‘grandfather’ and ‘grandmother.’ “But they had Papa after they came over. He was raised in Tuscany, and he married a girl from Florence. He was always more Tuscan than he was Sicilian.”

“But – ”

“I need you to be quiet and listen, alright? We don’t have much time.”

“If it was so fucking important, why didn’t you talk to me before?”

“Because you were being a snot-nosed little punk.”

“Fuck you.”

“Valentino, this is a direct order from your consigliere, and it holds the same weight as an order from your Don: shut the fuck up and listen to me.”

Niccolo wasn’t playing around.

I grumbled, but I didn’t say anything else.

“Sicily was conquered repeatedly throughout the last 2500 years. The Greeks, the Romans, the Arabs, the French, the Spanish – every few hundred years, the island changed hands.

“This led to a streak of fatalism amongst Sicilians. They’re a proud people, but they’re a conquered people. There’s a sort of… underlying attitude that there’s nothing they can do about their fates.

“That’s the environment that gave rise to the Cosa Nostra. The mafia was able to flourish because it was a bunch of men who said Fuck it and decided to take control of their destinies – and everyone around them just accepted it as inevitable, something they couldn’t do anything about. That is, until the Cosa Nostra finally took it too far, the civilians had enough, and the cops and judges started jailing everybody in the 1980s.

“The most far-sighted families of the Cosa Nostra started spreading into the rest of Italy long before that. They were secretive about it, but they built their power bases outside Sicily.”

“Like Nonni,” I said.

“Like Nonni,” Niccolo agreed. “And the other families in the Council, too.

“But here’s the thing: Sicilian mafiosos are old-school. They’re brutal. They rule with an iron fist, not the velvet glove. And they are not afraid of death.

“They’re also exceedingly proud. That’s why I told you never to question a Sicilian’s integrity. That wasn’t just some cute bullshit I was throwing around.”

“So you’re saying a Sicilian never lies?”

“No – but you know how when we make a promise, we swear on the things we cherish the most?”

It was true. In the Cosa Nostra, if you took an oath on the life of your children, your wife, or your family, you were making a blood oath. If you swore on something important and then went back on your word, you were basically calling down ruin on yourself and risking the deaths of everyone you loved.

Superstitious, maybe…

But we all believed it deep down in our bones.

“That comes from the old country,” Niccolo said. “If a Sicilian makes a promise to you and swears on something he considers holy, that’s a promise he’ll never break. To do so would be an infamia. Other Sicilian gangsters – his allies, not just his enemies – would kill him on principle alone because he can never be trusted again.”

“Fascinating,” I said sarcastically. I was still fucking pissed at him. “Why are you telling me all this?”

Niccolo leaned forward, and the expression on his face was intense. “Do NOT make any promises to a Sicilian you don’t intend to keep. Because if you go back on your word… they’ll fucking kill you for it.”

A shiver ran up and down my spine.

I could tell Niccolo was deadly serious.

But all this talk about promises made me think of something.

“Why does Don Vicari even need an arranged marriage?” I asked. “Is his daughter hideous or something?”

Bad enough I’d had to leave Caterina…

What if I had to marry some chick who looked like Gollum?

“I doubt it,” Niccolo said nonchalantly.

I knew enough Niccolo-speak to realize he was trying to skirt around the truth.

“But you don’t know,” I pressed.

“No, it’s true, I haven’t ever seen her – but I doubt it.” Niccolo smirked. “She might not be up to your usual standards, but I’m sure she’s a perfectly ordinary girl.”

“Then why hide her? Why not bring her to any of the weddings?”

“That’s another thing about Sicilians: they’re intensely protective of their women. Intensely. Don Vicari’s probably been hiding her away, waiting for the right opportunity to make the best match.”

“A match that’ll benefit him,” I said sourly.

“Of course. I already told you, that’s the entire reason for an arranged marriage: to build alliances between families.”

“Then why not build alliances with other families on Sicily?”

“If I had to guess, I’d bet it’s because he already controls all of Sicily, and now he wants to expand his power base and branch out.”

“Then why us? We’re in the middle of a war, and we’re kind of losing. We’re not exactly the best family to make an alliance with.”

Niccolo smiled grimly. “Don Vicari is not looked upon kindly by the mainland families of the Cosa Nostra. They think he’s too violent, too… unsophisticated.”

“A country bumpkin.”

“Never use that term around him. Never, not even as a joke,” Niccolo warned. “Yes, the Sicilians aren’t quite as worldly as some of the other families… but they’re ten times deadlier. Just remember that.”

“So basically what you’re saying is, we’re the only ones desperate enough to strike a deal with him.”

“More or less.”

Fuckin’ GREAT.

My brothers were auctioning me off like a goat to some bunch of hick psychopaths, and their daughter probably had a unibrow.

Then I thought of something.

“Wait a second,” I said. “Mezzasalma was Sicilian.”

Mezzasalma was the guy who’d wiped out the Agrellas in Florence – and nearly killed Adriano while he was at it.

The only reason we’d finally gotten him is because he kidnapped Bianca. While Adriano and Massimo were chasing them, she yanked on the wheel of Mezzasalma’s car and wrecked it like the fucking badass she was.

“Yes,” Niccolo agreed, “Mezzasalma was from Sicily.”

“What if Don Vicari had something to do with Mezzasalma trying to kill us?!”

“I asked that already. He swore on his dead wife’s soul that he knew nothing about Mezzasalma’s plans. Don Vicari says he gave Mezzasalma the green light to leave Sicily and strike out for new territory on the mainland, but he says he had nothing to do with Mezzasalma targeting the Agrellas – or us.”

“And you believe him?” I asked incredulously.

“Dead wife’s soul,” Niccolo reminded me. “Not a lot of things you can swear on that are more serious than that.”

“Unless he fuckin’ hated his wife.”

“Again, do not make jokes like that around Don Vicari,” Niccolo ordered. “Ever.”

“I wasn’t going to,” I protested angrily.

“Actually, his dead wife brings me to my final point, and it’s something that’s not usually acknowledged – even by Sicilians. Especially by Sicilians.”

“What?” I asked, curious.

“Sicily is actually a matriarchy – and the Sicilian Cosa Nostra even more so. It looks like a patriarchy on the surface, what with men doing all the killing and keeping a tight lid on their women… but at the end of the day, Sicilian mothers rule their sons. Wives don’t rule their husbands, usually – but mothers do. Their influence is subtle, but it is absolute.” Niccolo shrugged. “Not something that’ll necessarily be useful to you, and I would never mention it to Don Vicari unless you want a swift kick in the balls… but it’s something I’ve seen play out in my dealings with Sicilians.”

“You mean watching Fausto’s dealings with Sicilians,” I said sarcastically.

Niccolo had basically been Fausto’s apprentice for years before the old bastard betrayed us.

“Yes,” Niccolo said, annoyed. “Watching Fausto’s dealings with Sicilians.”

“Fausto’s a full-blooded Sicilian,” I pointed out.

“But he grew up in Tuscany, too, just like Papa.”

“Yeah, but he betrayed his family. That’s something only the most cold-blooded asshole would do.”

“Well, good thing we’re forging an alliance with the Sicilians, then.”

“Why’s that?”

Niccolo smiled grimly. “Because it might take a few Sicilians to kill a Sicilian. Oh – one more thing.”

“What?”

“You might be harboring some delusion that you’re going to change Don Vicari’s mind. Maybe you think you can piss him off juuuuust enough that he’ll call the whole thing off.”

I put on my best poker face and said coldly, “I wasn’t thinking that at all.”

Niccolo smirked, and I knew then that he knew the truth. The fucker was a genius at reading other people’s minds.

“Well, in case I’ve inadvertently planted the idea in your brain – don’t. I assured Don Vicari that you would go along with the agreement. I said you wouldn’t like it, but that you’d go along with it for the sake of the family. He agreed to overlook your lack of enthusiasm.

“But if you try to sabotage the deal – if you do something to piss him off or make him think that I lied to him – then there’s a good chance neither of us will walk out of the meeting alive.”

I swallowed hard.

Niccolo could really sell a scary story when he wanted to.

“So you’re saying he’s some kind of evil mastermind?” I asked.

“Not in the way that you mean. From what I know about Don Vicari, he’s not particularly clever. He’s not a strategist. He’s a two-dimensional thinker and, as a result, has many blind spots. His consigliere is rumored to be the brains of the operation.

“What Don Vicari is, is ruthless. Brutal. He has an iron will and the resolve to do whatever the fuck he sets his mind to. Which is why I want him on our side, and why I wouldn’t want to face him as an enemy.”

“But you just said he’d kill us.”

“What I said was that if you try to sabotage the deal or make him think I lied to him, there’s a good chance neither of us will walk out of the meeting alive.”

“He wouldn’t kill us,” I sneered. “He wouldn’t dare start a war with Dario.”

“Besides the fact that he already knows we’re in a war with Fausto and we’re not exactly winning, there’s one last lesson I have for you,” Niccolo replied. “Don Vicari’s a Sicilian, and Sicilians don’t give a fuck. So, whatever you were thinking of doing… don’t.”

Then he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat as the plane started to descend.

28

As we approached the airport, I pulled up my window shade and looked out.

Sicily is the biggest island in the Mediterranean, just west of the toe of the ‘boot’ of Italy.

Palermo is its biggest city and sits on the northern shore. Through the window, I could see the port and the massive docks for all the cruise ships.

The city itself was an odd mix of the old and new. There were lots of ancient buildings, usually tan with orange-colored roofs… and then it became this sprawling, modern city that stretched for miles.

What I noticed most of all were the mountains. They surrounded everything: the city of Palermo and pretty much the entire northern part of the island.

The plane landed at the airport, which only had two runways.

When we got off the jet in a hangar, a black BMW was waiting for us.

The driver – a sour-looking guy in a suit 15 years out of style – stood by the car.

“Your names?” he asked my brother in a Sicilian accent.

“Niccolo and Valentino Rosolini.”

He gestured to the rear doors. “Get in the car.”

Not much in the way of hospitality.

Niccolo and I settled into the backseat. At least the car was a lot newer than the jet.

“We will reach the Don in 30 minutes,” the driver said to us as he pulled out of the airport.

I looked at Niccolo. “Does Don Vicari live in Palermo?”

“No, that’s just where we’re meeting.”

“Why didn’t we fly onto his property?”

“Because no one knows for sure where it is, and he probably doesn’t want us to know. One more lesson: Sicilians are famously paranoid.”

“You would be, too,” the driver said in a grumpy voice, “if everybody tried to kill you all the time.”

“Agreed,” Niccolo said pleasantly, then gave me a look. See? Be careful what you say.

We drove for 20 minutes along the coast. Once we got off the highway, we started down winding streets bordered by tan residential buildings. The two- and three-story ones looked like they were a couple of centuries old, but the taller apartment buildings might have been built in the last few decades.

It wasn’t the best neighborhood. A lot of the buildings looked rundown, and there were piles of garbage along the street. Cement walls along the road were plastered with tacky billboards for grocery stores and car dealerships.

If this guy wants to meet HERE, I thought, I don’t see how he’s the richest man in the Cosa Nostra.

I had to eat my words. The rundown neighborhood gave way to a nicer area, and the car pulled up to a huge hotel that sat behind a tan wall with metal gates.

A white-gloved porter let us in, and we parked in front of the lobby.

I noticed a couple of things.

Number one: the valets eyed our car nervously and kept their distance.

Number two: when the driver got out, nobody came over to take the keys from him or drive the car somewhere else. Apparently he was just going to leave it there, and nobody was going to say otherwise.

Number three: when Nic and I got out, the driver didn’t make the slightest effort to open our doors for us.

Not that I cared; I wasn’t a spoiled little rich boy who needed my car door held open for me. But it was interesting that the driver genuinely didn’t seem to give a fuck about offending us.

He led the way into the lobby, which was insane.

In The Godfather Part II, Michael Corleone goes to Cuba to see another gangster about investing in Havana casinos. The problem is that he goes at the end of 1958, just as Fidel Castro’s forces are about to seize control and turn the island communist.

Anyway, the hotel in the movie is amazing: beautiful, huge, and built over a hundred years ago with a lot of old-world charm and luxury.

That’s what this hotel reminded me of: the Cuban hotel in The Godfather Part II. It looked like somebody had transported it right from the film into modern-day Palermo. The polished wooden check-in desks… the plush red-and-gold carpet… the white hallways and high-arched doorways.

The driver led us past all that and down the hall.

I noticed once again that all the desk workers and bellhops glanced nervously at us as we passed. Still, nobody said anything or even smiled in greeting.

Apparently they knew we were there for Don Vicari…

And they knew who – and what – he was.

The driver ushered us into an elevator made of dark wood and brass trimmings. When we got out on the fourth floor, we walked down the luxurious hallway past a dozen rooms until we reached a couple of big-ass doors. On the wall was a brass plaque engraved with the words La Suite Presidenziale – The Presidential Suite.

The driver knocked twice.

At the same time, Niccolo flashed me a look: Don’t do anything stupid.

Then the door opened, and we walked into a completely different world.

Half a dozen guys stood around in the foyer of a giant suite. They ranged from my age to late 40s, and they all wore suits that were either cheap or a decade out of style.

These guys definitely didn’t give a shit about fashion.

A couple of them patted me and Niccolo down. Satisfied that we weren’t carrying, they led us through another set of doors…

And into the main living room of the suite.

At the far end of the room, in a throne-like wooden chair, sat Don Vicari.

He was in his late 50s – about my father’s age when he died.

Once upon a time, Vicari had probably been a real bruiser. He was built like a heavyweight boxer and still had a muscular body, but he also had a gut.

He wasn’t fat, though – at least not around the face. No jowls, no double chin. More like he was just… solid. Meaty. A guy you did not want to get into a fistfight with.

His suit was even worse than his men’s: casual, old, and out of style. It looked like he’d stopped buying new clothes 20 years ago.

The only flamboyant thing he wore was a diamond set into a heavy gold ring. Not like a wedding ring, with the rock exposed, but with the diamond sunk deep into the gold base.

His hair – combed straight back from his forehead – was thinning slightly but still jet black.

The mustache was exactly the same as I remembered it: big and bushy, a real porn ‘stache. No beard, although he had five o’clock shadow on his chin and cheeks. Which was impressive, considering it was early afternoon.

But it was his eyes that stopped you in your tracks.

They were just… dead.

The brown irises were so dark that they appeared almost as black as the pupils… and he stared at you like a shark would: utterly unconcerned about whether you lived or died.

A stone-cold killer’s eyes.

I liked to think I was pretty tough…

But when this guy looked at me, a shiver ran down my spine.

“Don Vicari,” Niccolo said cheerfully. “Good to see you.”

“Sit,” the bastard said in a gravelly voice as he gestured at two empty, much smaller chairs opposite him.

No How do you do.

No Thanks for coming.

Just Sit.

We sat.

Niccolo smiled and played the part of the respectful guest. “Thank you for having us. It’s an honor.”

“Such a great honor that your don couldn’t be bothered to come,” Vicari said.

He didn’t sound pissed off or angry. More like he was just saying Bullshit in a bored tone of voice.

Niccolo’s smile tightened. “As you know, an attempt was recently made on my brother’s life. Blame me for his absence – I was the one who insisted he not accompany us.”

“Hrm,” Vicari grunted, then looked at me. My skin crawled as he peered at me like he was buying a horse. “So this is him.”

“This…” Niccolo said theatrically, “is Valentino.”

Vicari looked me up and down dubiously. “He’s a little too pretty.”

“Give me a gun and I’ll show you who’s a little too pretty,” I shot back.

Niccolo gave me a death stare like I’LL KILL YOU MYSELF IF YOU SAY ANY MORE SHIT LIKE THAT.

But Vicari laughed.

Well… he gave one single, barking laugh.

However, he didn’t smile. His brain apparently didn’t let his face know that he found it amusing.

“Heh. That’s funny.”

Niccolo looked back at the mafia don with a desperate grin. “Valentino… he’s a kidder, that one!”

“Alright,” Vicari said, and looked back at Niccolo. “Let’s talk.”

Niccolo gestured with one hand like, Go right ahead.

“He marries my daughter, I back you at the Council,” Vicari said. “In addition, I’ll loan you 20 of my men to go up against Fausto.”

“Only 20?” Niccolo asked. His voice held the first hint of displeasure I’d heard from him since we’d walked in the door.

“Twenty Sicilians are worth a hundred Tuscans,” Vicari said – not boastful, just like it was a matter of fact. “But I’m not giving you any money.”

Niccolo smiled tightly. “We have the money situation under control.”

After what Dario had told me, I knew that was an outright lie.

“Good,” Vicari said. “He’ll live here in Sicily for the first five years. You can come visit, but he stays in Sicily. After five years, we can talk.”

“Reasonable,” Niccolo agreed.

I was getting pissed about being talked about in the third person – and that my entire life was being negotiated without me having any say in the matter –

But for the moment, I kept my mouth shut.

“I want grandchildren,” Vicari said. “Lots of them. And I want them as soon as possible.”

“May it be so,” Niccolo said with a smile.

When I didn’t say anything, Vicari looked at me and said, “Understood?”

“Understood,” Niccolo interjected.

“I want to hear him say it,” Vicari said, not taking his eyes off me.

“I understand,” I said coldly.

Vicari settled back in his chair like he was taking my measure. After a few seconds, he spoke. “You got something to say, say it now.”

“We discussed the situation – ” Niccolo started –

But Vicari raised a hand without looking at him, and Niccolo fell silent.

“Well?” Vicari asked me. “Say it.”

I looked at him for a long moment…

Then asked, “Why does your daughter need an arranged marriage?”

“Heh,” Vicari laughed, again without any change in expression. “What you mean is, is she an ugly cow.”

Niccolo started panicking. “I’m sure that – ”

“I’m talking to my future son-in-law,” Vicari said without looking away from me.

Niccolo shut up and just sat there unhappily.

“She’s a pleasant-looking girl,” Vicari said. “Not a great beauty, but nice enough. But she’s an odd duck. Always got her nose in a book. Always reading.

“I’ve brought her suitors before. She didn’t care for any of them. But she’s 24 now. It’s time. She waits any longer, she’s gonna be an old maid.”

Jesus…

Niccolo had told me a lot about Sicilians, but he didn’t mention they were assholes.

“I can’t promise she’ll be a great wife, but we’ve got servants for cooking and cleaning,” Vicari continued. “You’ll have to make do with the rest. Any other questions?”

“Why me?” I asked.

“I remembered you. I figured you were pretty enough for her. Plus, your family’s desperate,” Vicari said. He wasn’t mean-spirited, just matter-of-fact. “And I want to expand out of Sicily. It’s a good match. Anything else?”

“What about Mezzasalma?”

“Ah. The elephant in the room.” Vicari nodded, almost approvingly. “Mezzasalma controlled the southern part of Sicily. Ragusa, Pozzallo… Rosolini, too. That’s where your grandfather Vito came from.”

I’d heard that ever since I was born: that my family’s name was the same as the town my grandparents came from. I’d never seen it, though. I’d never even set foot in Sicily before today.

“Jacopo Gargano took over Vito’s territory when he left,” Vicari explained. “Mezzasalma was his enforcer. Then Mezzasalma killed Gargano and his entire family. Wiped them all out one night as they slept in their beds.”

“And you were okay with that?” I asked incredulously.

“My father was fine with it. He was in charge back then. He never had a problem with Mezzasalma. Mezzasalma was respectful to him. And he always paid my family our cut. Besides, Gargano was weak; Mezzasalma was strong. In Sicily, the strong eat the weak. That’s just the way of things. My father saw no reason to get involved.

“When my father died and I took over, I could tell Mezzasalma was going to be a problem one day. He was getting too rich off the drugs he was smuggling in from North Africa. Of course, he was making me rich with the percentage he was paying me – but I knew he’d eventually try to do to me what he did to Gargano. So I was always on my guard.

“That’s why, when he came to me and asked to go the mainland, I gave him my blessing. I took over his territory, promised him a cut of all future profits, and off he went.” Vicari shrugged. “Mezzasalma stopped being my problem and became someone else’s.”

“Yeah – ours,” I snapped.

Niccolo glared at me, but I ignored him.

Besides, Vicari didn’t seem offended.

“I never thought he would try to take down your family. He was always sentimental about your grandfather. I would’ve never guessed he’d try to kill the rest of you.”

“Would you have told us if you’d known?” I asked.

“No,” Vicari said matter-of-factly.

“Why not?!”

“Because I didn’t owe you shit. Just like you didn’t owe me shit. Which is another reason this marriage is good for you.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because once you marry my daughter, you become sangue di mi sangue.”

The words probably meant Blood of my blood…

But the right way to say ‘blood of my blood’ was actually Sangue del mio sangue.

The literal translation of Sangue di mi sangue was Blood from my blood.

I figured it was a Sicilian saying –

But I had no idea what it meant.

“…what?” I asked, puzzled.

“It’s an old Sicilian blood oath,” Niccolo said in a quiet voice.

“The oldest,” Vicari said. “Older than omertà. You know omertà?”

“The code of silence,” I said.

“Honor and silence,” Vicari said. “Sangue di mi sangue is an unbreakable promise. It means that you’re not only part of my family… you’re my flesh and blood. Anybody who fucks with you, fucks with me. And nobody fucks with me.”

“Does that mean you’ll be supplying us with more than 20 men?” Niccolo asked hopefully.

“It means HE’S sangue di mi sangue,” Vicari said, pointing at me. “If your uncle fucks with him, then I’ll take it as my personal mission to destroy Fausto. But you? You’re just an in-law… and in-laws get 20 men.”

“Wonderful,” Niccolo said drily.

“So if I’d been ‘blood of your blood,’” I said sarcastically, “then you would have warned us about Mezzasalma?”

“Of course,” Vicari said. “But don’t take it personal. Nothing about it was personal. Like I said: in Sicily, the strong eat the weak. Whoever Mezzasalma went after, the strongest would win – and that’s exactly what happened. He went after the Agrellas and he slaughtered them like pigs. Then he went up against you – ”

“And we fucked his shit up.”

For the first time, Vicari smiled – although it was the most chilling, blood-curdling smile I’d ever seen.

“And you fucked his shit up,” he agreed.

“Apparently it’s not just Sicily where the strong eat the weak,” I said coolly.

“Apparently not. In fact, that was another reason I wanted the marriage. Any men who could take out Mezzasalma are allies worth having.”

I laughed.

Vicari frowned. “What’s so funny?”

“Because it was a girl who took out Mezzasalma.”

Vicari stared at me blankly. “…what?”

Niccolo jumped in. “Actually, Adriano was the one who shot him – ”

“But it was Bianca who wrecked the fucking car,” I snapped.

I figured credit where credit was due.

“A girl, you say,” Vicari muttered.

“My sister-in-law.”

“Huh.” Vicari thought for a long second… then shrugged. “Bad luck catches up with us all sometimes. I guess it caught up with Mezzasalma.”

Bad luck my ASS.

Vicari wouldn’t admit a woman could kill somebody like Mezzasalma.

“The old woman who tried to kill Dario a couple months ago was Sicilian, too,” I snapped.

“Don’t know anything about her,” Vicari said dismissively.

Filomena had been Sicilian; Alessandra was Tuscan – or at least she’d grown up in Tuscany, like me and my brothers.

I was about to taunt Vicari with a few snide remarks about how Tuscans could kill Sicilians, but Sicilians apparently couldn’t kill Tuscans –

When Niccolo stepped in and said, “We should talk about the wedding.”

“I want it done as soon as possible,” Vicari replied. Then he added with a sneer in his voice, “We can do it tomorrow if your don is willing to come out of hiding.”

The insult about Dario coming out of hiding was a pretty big one, but I glided right past it because –

TOMORROW?!

I felt like I might vomit.

Niccolo didn’t smile this time. “Tomorrow is far too soon. We have one brother who’s working with the Widow of Venice – ”

“THAT old bitch,” Vicari grunted.

Niccolo clenched his jaw. “At any rate, Massimo is unreachable at the moment, and we have no idea when he’ll complete his mission. My brother Roberto is in Hong Kong negotiating a financial deal.”

I noticed Niccolo didn’t mention anything about Lars. Maybe he didn’t want to give away all our weaknesses, especially with our enforcer gone.

Vicari snorted. “Negotiating a financial deal at a time like this?”

Niccolo had just about had enough. I could hear it in the coldness of his voice when he said, “So we can hire more than 20 Sicilians.”

Vicari heard the disrespect in Nic’s voice and glared at him. “Watch your tone, consigliere.”

“Then don’t imply my don is in hiding,” Niccolo shot back angrily.

Whoa.

Vicari and Niccolo stared each other down like gunslingers in a western.

Electricity crackled in the air. Vicari’s goons tensed up behind him.

I didn’t know what the fuck they thought Nic was going do without a gun, though. Maybe jump up and try to choke their boss?

However it panned out, I was really hoping this little pissing match would sink the whole deal. Then I could go home to Caterina –

But Vicari blinked first.

“Two weeks,” he said.

Niccolo shook his head. “That’s still – ”

“Two weeks, with the understanding we’ll postpone if the situation with your brothers gets worse.”

Niccolo sat there for a second in silence, considering…

Then nodded. “Alright.”

My stomach plummeted.

My fate was sealed.

“Anything else?” Vicari asked Niccolo.

“I can work out the details with your consigliere over the next two weeks.”

“My consigliere is dead.”

“Oh,” Niccolo said in surprise. “I’m sorry to hear that. How did he die?”

“I killed him,” Vicari said, then gave that horrifying smile again. “He was terrible at his job.”

Nic and I both sat there, stunned.

Vicari had killed his own consigliere –

Which was shocking. Unheard of.

A don had probably killed his consigliere at some point in the past –

But I’d never heard of it happening in my lifetime.

A consigliere was a don’s most trusted confidant. The Number Two Man in the organization, chosen for his loyalty.

If Vicari had murdered his consigliere…

Then he was letting us know he was capable of just about anything.

It rattled me…

And though he tried not to show it, it rattled my brother, too.

“…I see,” Niccolo said. “Well, then… I’ll just work out the details with whoever your new consigliere is.”

“You can work them out with me… since I won’t be replacing him anytime soon.”

Don Vicari stood up, signaling the meeting was over.

Niccolo and I stood up right after him – half out of respect, and half the same way you’d flinch if a king cobra flared its hood.

Vicari turned to me. “We should get going. It’s a two-hour car ride.” Then he looked at Niccolo. “My driver will take you back to the plane.”

“Excellent,” Niccolo replied. “I’d like a word with my brother before I go.”

Vicari motioned like, Go ahead.

Niccolo walked away from all the other gangsters. I quickly followed him.

“What the fuck have you gotten me into?” I whispered in a panic.

“Sicily,” he said drily. “Just play by his rules and everything will be fine.”

“Niccolo – ”

“Listen to me,” he whispered urgently. “Without a consigliere, Don Vicari will have no restraints – no voice of reason to temper him. He’ll do whatever the fuck he pleases. Any dark impulses will be magnified, any blind spots will become mountains. And if things go to shit, he’ll blame people around him rather than take responsibility. Do not put yourself in a position where he can blame you for anything. Do what he says at all times.”

“Niccolo, you can’t leave me here,” I said frantically.

“We have no choice. The die is cast,” he said grimly. “Now calm down – I need to tell you one last thing.”

“What?” I demanded.

“Up until now, you’ve had the luxury of being young. Impetuous. Acting without thinking. Little to no responsibility. Doing only what you wanted, when you wanted. You can’t afford those luxuries anymore. From here on out, this is an entirely different game. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“No,” I snarled.

“Then I’ll make it clearer for you.” Nic looked me dead in the eyes. “Do your duty to your family, whatever the cost.”

Then he hugged me briefly…

Walked out of the room…

And never looked back.

29

Caterina

Iwas crying in bed when I heard a light knock on the door.

“Go away,” I sniffled.

“Caterina, it’s me,” Alessandra’s muffled voice said. “Please let me in.”

I still loved Alessandra just as much as the first day she walked into my kitchen…

But the fact that she was now my boss’s wife kind of complicated our friendship.

I thought about telling her again to go away…

But I gave in, dragged myself out of bed, and unlocked the door.

Then I collapsed back onto my bed and buried my face in my pillow.

Alessandra closed the door, sat at the foot of the bed, and put a consoling hand on my leg.

“…you listened in, didn’t you,” she asked sadly.

I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. I was too humiliated by what Don Rosolini had said.

“How much did you hear?” Alessandra asked.

“Enough,” I said miserably.

“Caterina, listen to me: you have to go to Sicily.”

Of all the things I’d been expecting her to say, that had not been one of them.

I looked up from the pillow in shock. “What?!”

“You have to go to Sicily.”

“Why?!”

“To get him back!”

I looked at her like she was crazy. “Your husband gave Valentino a choice between me and an arranged marriage… and he chose the arranged marriage.”

“Dario didn’t want to marry me at first,” Alessandra said. “He didn’t change his mind until he almost lost me.”

“That was different,” I protested.

“How was it so different? Two brothers – one sleeping with a café waitress, the other with a kitchen worker – ”

“You’re a freakin’ long-lost mafia princess,” I grumbled.

“We didn’t find that out until after Dario kicked me out of the house.”

I squinted. “Didn’t you ask him to leave?”

“You’re missing the point,” Alessandra said impatiently. “Dario wasn’t going to marry me until he almost lost me for good. That’s what changed his mind. If I know Valentino, he’s probably cursing himself right now for not taking the deal. By the way, it was all Niccolo’s idea – did you know that?”

“Yeah… that’s what Valentino said, more or less.”

“Well, if I know Niccolo, he laid it on pretty thick. He probably told Valentino how this was all about the FAMILY,” she said in a pompous voice, “and how it was necessary for everyone’s survival and blah blah blah.”

I chuckled in spite of myself. It wasn’t the best imitation of Niccolo ever, but Alessandra had captured his self-importance pretty well.

“And I’ll bet you a million dollars that Niccolo brought up Dario spending four years in prison – for the FAMILY,” Alessandra said darkly. “Niccolo’s a master manipulator. I’m sure he guilted Valentino into thinking he had to do it.”

“But your husband gave him a choice, and he said he didn’t want to marry me!”

Alessandra smiled like she knew something I didn’t. “I’m guessing you didn’t stick around long enough to hear when Dario said the two of you had to get married.”

I frowned. “No – when?”

“Today.”

I stared at her. “WHAT?!”

“Exactly!” Alessandra crowed. “If I asked you, ‘Caterina, do you want to marry Valentino NOW – RIGHT NOW, in the next 15 minutes’ – would you do it?”

“I…”

“Well?!” Alessandra tapped her elegant gold wristwatch for comic effect. “Tell me now! Time’s running out! YOU HAVE TO TELL ME NOW!”

I realized she was trying to drive home how much pressure Valentino must have been under…

But even without the theatrics, I recognized how insane the choice was.

If she’d asked me three hours ago in the kitchen – back before I knew anything about the arranged marriage – I would have laughed in her face.

Girl, are you crazy?! We’re just having a good time!

Now that Valentino had broken my heart, the question about marrying him was even more complicated.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to entrust my heart to him a second time.

And if I had been the one Don Rosolini had asked…

If my decision could have called off the arranged marriage…

I still wasn’t sure.

I mean… it was a lot.

“That’s a big step,” I said lamely.

“It’s a HUGE step! Now imagine having to take that step with two brothers pressuring you to do your duty to the family, and one of them went to prison so you didn’t have to!”

She didn’t mention the part I knew we were both thinking:

Two brothers in the mafia.

But… still…

“What if he really doesn’t want to marry me?” I asked miserably.

“There’s only one way to find out. Go fight for him.”

My stomach clenched in fear. “I can’t do that!”

“Do you want him?”

I paused –

Then realized that no matter how much he had hurt me…

Hell YES I want him.

“Yes,” I said.

“How much?”

It was scary to say it – but I said it anyway. “More than anything.”

“Then go and claim him. Fight for him.”

“He’s in an arranged marriage – by the mafia!” I said, whispering the last word frantically.

Alessandra made a humorous face. “I didn’t say it would be easy.”

“You’re going against your husband by even suggesting this!” This time, I whispered the entire sentence.

Alessandra got a dangerous look in her eye. “Dario should have never agreed to this in the first place.”

Blessed Virgin…

I was glad Don Rosolini wasn’t around to hear her talk like that…

“I’ve never even been to Sicily!” I protested.

“I hadn’t even been out of Tuscany when Dario brought me here,” Alessandra said.

“Even if I could go to Sicily, I’m not rich! I have to work this job to survive – because I don’t have any money!”

Alessandra gave me a mischievous grin. “That’s not going to be a problem.”

She bent over and got her purse off the floor, which I didn’t know she had with her. My head had been buried in my pillow when she walked in.

She undid the clasp, pulled out a huge roll of cash with a rubber band around it –

And held it out to me.

I stared at her in shock. “I can’t take your money!”

“Of course you can!” she said as she pressed it into my hand. “Dario took away your happiness. The very least I can do is try to help you get it back.”

I stared at her for another few seconds in shock –

Then burst into tears.

“Thank you,” I sobbed as I hugged her.

She laughed as she hugged me back.

Oh shit…

I’m going to Sicily!

But then I realized something.

Sicily was a very big island… the same size as a lot of smaller countries.

And I had no idea where to go.

“Where is Valentino, exactly?” I asked.

Alessandra stared at me in shock. “Um… that’s a good question.”

“You don’t know?”

“No… but I know how to find out.”

Panic slammed into me all at once. “You can’t ask Don Rosolini, or Niccolo, or any of them – they’ll know something’s up!”

“Don’t worry,” Alessandra said slyly as she pulled out a cellphone, “I wasn’t going to.”

She went into her contacts on her phone, then tapped the screen and held it up to her ear.

After a second, someone answered.

“Hello, Nonna!” Alessandra said happily. “Yes – I’ve been meaning to call you, too! But I have a favor to ask you, and no one – not even my husband – can know about it.”

I froze in fear.

Alessandra was talking to her grandmother, who she hadn’t even known about until a few months ago.

Signora Oldani…

A member of the Oldani family…

Who belonged to the Cosa Nostra.

Alessandra was calling in a favor from the mafia on my behalf…

And not only that, she was keeping Don Rosolini in the dark about it.

I waved my hands and tried to tell her No!

Alessandra said, “Hold on one second, Nonna,” and muted the phone.

“You can’t do this!” I whispered frantically.

“Do you want Valentino back?”

“…yes…”

“Then this is how we do it.”

“Couldn’t you just call him?” I asked. “Valentino, I mean?”

“The first thing Dario did when he brought me here was take away my phone,” Alessandra said. “Even if the Sicilian mafia don is letting Valentino keep his, I’ll bet you they’ll be monitoring his calls and listening in somehow. No… this is the only way.”

As she went back to the phone call, I sat there trembling on the bed.

This is a bad, BAD idea…

30

Valentino

We left the hotel in a caravan of Alfa Romeo SUVs, all black.

Don Vicari didn’t like to splurge on his jet, but at least his cars were only a few years old.

Vicari sat behind the driver. I sat behind the guy riding shotgun.

He was literally riding shotgun, by the way: he had a sawed-off double-barrel Remington between his legs, angled down towards the floor.

I prayed that Niccolo had been right about Sicilians being extremely paranoid. Otherwise, it sure looked like they were expecting to get ambushed by somebody.

As we got on the interstate, the BMW sedan carrying Niccolo went one way while the rest of the vehicles went the other.

Don Vicari stared silently at the driver’s seat. Neither the driver nor the guy riding shotgun said anything, either.

It freaked me out a little how nobody was talking…

But I didn’t really want to talk anyway, so I gazed out at the scenery.

Palermo seemed to go on forever. It was way bigger than Florence, the city closest to my home.

Well…

What used to be my home.

Suddenly, a ringtone broke the silence.

Shotgun Guy reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a cell phone. He answered it, listened, and then held out the phone. “It’s for you, boss.”

Vicari took it. “What,” he said emotionlessly.

His face darkened.

“Tell him you’re not hanging around to take him back,” he growled.

After the guy on the other end said something, Vicari looked even more pissed off. “Fine. Fuck him, then.”

He hung up the phone and passed it back to Shotgun.

“Your brother switched plans on me,” Vicari said without looking at me.

My heart beat faster from hope. “Dario?”

“No, the consigliere.”

“Oh.” Nic. “What did he do?”

“He’s not taking the jet back to Tuscany.”

“What?” I asked, surprised.

Vicari’s face twisted into a bitter scowl. “Maybe he doesn’t trust me to deliver him home in one piece.”

“That’s not it,” I replied.

Vicari turned slowly to look at me – sort of like, You got somethin’ you wanna fuckin’ say?

I quickly explained.

“The very first thing Nic told me was to never question a Sicilian’s integrity. He said you swore on your dea– uh, your departed wife’s soul that we’d be safe, so I know he trusts you 100%.”

Vicari stared at me for a few seconds longer.

Then he gave a mildly surprised “Huh.”

At least he no longer seemed pissed off.

“Did Niccolo say why he’s not flying back?” I asked.

“No.”

I could tell he was still annoyed, so I dropped it.

Fuckin’ Niccolo. Drags me to Sicily and sticks me in an arranged marriage – but do the rules apply to HIM? Oh, FUCK no.

Don Vicari went back to staring wordlessly at the back of the driver’s seat.

I pulled out my phone to scroll through Instagram –

And, to be honest, I wanted to see if Caterina had texted me.

“That reminds me,” Don Vicari said as he held out his hand. “Give it here.”

“What?” I asked in shock.

“Give me your phone.”

“Why?!”

“I don’t want you talking to girls back home when you’re supposed to marry my daughter in two weeks.”

He’d kind of nailed me.

But I wasn’t going to give up that easily.

“There aren’t any girls back home,” I lied.

Don Vicari gave me a contemptuous smirk. “I had my people check you out.”

“…oh?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“They say you’ve got quite the reputation as a ladies’ man.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” I said humbly… even though it wasn’t.

For the first time ever, Vicari actually smiled. Not one of his creepy serial killer smiles, but something with actual warmth.

Of course, he wasn’t looking at me when he did it. He was staring off past me into the distance, lost in thought.

“You know, I was a ladies’ man back when I was your age. I courted all the most beautiful girls in Sicily. Fucked most of ‘em, too.”

The driver and the shotgun guy both laughed.

“They know my reputation,” Vicari said as he pointed at his men. “‘Big Dick Vicari.’ Isn’t that right?”

“That’s what they say, boss,” Shotgun said with a grin.

Um…

Okay…

“Caused a lot of problems for my old man,” Vicari said cheerfully. “Angry fathers trying to kill me. We had to make a lot of problems go away.”

I was assuming that by ‘go away,’ he didn’t mean bribing them.

Jesus fucking Christ…

“Hell, I probably got a lot of bastard kids all over Sicily. Never wore a condom, not once, and I never pulled out.”

The guys in the front laughed even harder.

I was getting intensely uncomfortable with this conversation.

“Of course, all that stopped when I met my sainted Matelda,” Vicari said, switching on a dime from happy to somber. “God rest her soul.”

The driver and shotgun guy both immediately stopped laughing, too.

Shotgun actually crossed himself.

Then Vicari turned to me. “So when a pretty boy with the face of a movie star tells me he hasn’t got any girls back home, I know he’s either lying or he’s a finocchio.”

Finocchio was the word for ‘fennel’ – but also a slur for being gay.

“So which is it?” Vicari asked coldly.

“…there was a girl,” I said back just as coldly. “But not anymore.”

“Good,” he said as he held his hand for my phone. “Let’s keep it that way.”

“I need it to talk to my family!”

“You can have it back whenever you want to call them.” When I didn’t move, Vicari growled, “It wasn’t a request.”

I wondered what would happen if I just said ‘no’ –

But I noticed that Shotgun was watching the rearview mirror to see what I would do. The driver glanced into the mirror every few seconds for the same reason.

Then Vicari gave me that chilling smile I’d seen earlier – the one where the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’d hate to have to treat my new son-in-law like my consigliere.”

A shiver ran down my spine…

And I finally handed my phone over in angry silence.

Vicari slipped it inside his suit jacket. “And just so we’re clear, you will not be fucking other women. You’ll be faithful to my daughter your entire marriage, or I’m gonna have something to fuckin’ say about it. Capiche?”

“Capito,” I muttered.

Understood.

What else could I say?

Nah, I’m gonna fuck whoever I want, you old mafia son of a bitch.

That was a good way to wind up like his dead consigliere.

Normally, I would’ve been angry.

This wasn’t exactly the ‘Bang all the kitchen girls in Sicily you want on the side’ situation Niccolo had promised.

But I was so heartsick over Caterina, I couldn’t even think about any other women.

All I wanted was her.

Actually, I was more pissed that Vicari had taken my phone away than I was about him threatening me to stay faithful.

Without my phone, there was no way I could contact Caterina.

But Vicari wasn’t finished.

“Also, my daughter is a virgin,” he warned, “and she’ll remain a virgin until her wedding night.”

I wanted to say, When I fuck her, you don’t want me to pull out, right?

But again, I didn’t want a punch to the face or a bullet to the back of my head.

“Of course,” was all I said.

Don Vicari nodded, then went back to staring at the back of the driver’s seat.

We rode the rest of the way in silence, which was fine by me.

For about the thousandth time since landing in Sicily, I wished to God I had taken Dario up on his deal.

Because right about now, I could have been taking Caterina to bed as my wife…

Instead of riding in a car with a fucking psychopath.

31

The highway followed the coast and eventually headed up into the hills. Soon we took a smaller highway farther up into the mountains.

The view was gorgeous – especially the sparkling blue of the Mediterranean behind us.

Cat would have loved to have seen this, I thought bitterly.

As far as I knew, she’d never seen the Mediterranean.

And now I’ll never get to take her.

Thirty minutes later, we took an off-ramp into nowhere. There were only a few scattered villages along the two-lane road. Everything else was rolling hills that went on for miles, full of scrub brush, boulders, and a few cedar trees here and there. Occasionally you would see a crumbling stone building, probably 200 years old, that the inhabitants had abandoned.

Then things got worse.

The road narrowed to one lane with a stomach-churning drop on one side. If there hadn’t been metal guardrails, it would’ve been incredibly easy to just go sailing off the cliff.

Thank God there wasn’t any traffic coming in the opposite direction. I had no idea how they would have gotten past us.

The road itself was awful. Chunks of asphalt were broken away, and there were potholes everywhere. The ride became a series of jarring bumps as the caravan continued.

Finally, after 25 minutes of driving out into the middle of nowhere, I saw what looked like a large stone building in the distance. It was surrounded by tall, skinny cedars and had a sloped roof of rounded clay tiles.

Is this it? I wondered.

Sure enough, we turned down a gravel road towards the building. After a few minutes, we reached a massive brick wall with a wrought-iron gate, much like the one my family had around our property in Tuscany.

Unlike ours, though, there were no surveillance cameras or automatic gates – just two guys with shotguns standing guard.

As soon as they saw the cars, they unlocked a chain around the bars and pulled the gates open.

After we drove through, they shut the doors again and locked the chain.

Beyond the brick walls, there weren’t any trees – just lots of dry grass and rocky ground. Probably so nobody could sneak across the property and attack it.

We soon came to the building I’d seen from the road. Its three-story walls were made of massive sandstone blocks worn down by centuries, with two dozen arched windows barricaded with metal bars.

I wondered if the bars were to keep people out… or in.

The SUV drove around the corner, and I realized that the wall belonged to just one of two buildings that made up a larger compound.

Between the two buildings stood a massive iron gate – not made of bars with space between them, but a solid sheet of hammered metal.

Perfect for stopping bullets, I mused.

In the right of the metal slab was a single doorway big enough for a person to walk through.

The armed guard at the doorway saw the SUVs and went inside. Then he and three other men manually pulled back the iron gate on creaking hinges so the caravan could drive through.

As we entered, I noticed the rooftop terraces on either side of the gate. At least half a dozen men stood atop them, each with a high-powered rifle.

Snipers nest.

The SUVs pulled in between the two buildings, and I realized it was actually pretty beautiful inside.

The gravel gave way to a worn cobblestone road that stretched for at least two hundred feet between the buildings.

Off to the right was a grassy courtyard. The fountain in the center had what looked like an ancient Roman sculpture of a woman pouring water from a jug.

Terracotta pots lined the drive and hung from chains embedded into the stone walls. Inside them were colorful flowers and desert-looking plants.

The SUV parked in front of the entrance to the main building: giant doors made of weathered wood with iron trim and massive rings as doorknockers.

Vicari waited as the driver quickly hopped out and opened the Don’s door.

I noticed Shotgun didn’t do the same for me, though.

“Come on,” Vicari said. “Time to meet your future wife.”

I warily got out and stood by the car as the big wooden doors opened.

Half a dozen guys wearing black pants, white shirts, black vests, and caps came out first. They all had shotguns or rifles, so I was guessing they were foot soldiers.

Then came a tiny little bird of a woman, maybe 4’10”. Her face was wrinkled as a walnut, with skin browned by decades of harsh sun, and white hair pulled back in a tight bun.

She wore an old-timey black dress with a high neck, lots of black lace, and long sleeves that came down to her wrists. A widow’s dress.

A servant girl in an apron held her arm as she walked. The old lady took small steps, and it was a long process just to travel a few feet – but she grinned happily the entire time.

“That’s my nonna,” Vicari said. “Ninety-one years old and sharp as a tack. Come say hello.”

I followed Vicari dutifully over to the old woman, who had finally reached the bottom of the steps.

“Nonna,” Vicari said, “this is the Rosolini boy.”

She looked up at me and smiled. Her teeth were tiny and yellow, though she was missing a few.

“Not bad, right?” Vicari said. “I got a good one – right?

“Very pretty,” she agreed in a thick Sicilian accent.

I burst out with a chuckle in spite of myself. “Thank you.”

She reached up and patted my cheek softly as she grinned. “You a good boy.”

It was a surprisingly tender gesture…

Especially since we were surrounded by guys with guns, and her grandson was a stone-cold killer.

“And here’s my daughter, Isabella,” Vicari announced.

I followed the Don’s gaze –

And was immediately confused.

There was a girl standing in the open doorway…

But she was actually kind of cute.

She had a nice face, even with zero makeup on.

She was also really shy. She looked at me, but when our eyes met, she glanced away and blushed.

Her hair was dark brown, curly, and extended past her shoulders.

Her clothes were old-fashioned – a floral print dress with dark brown flowers on a light brown background. Everything about it was incredibly modest: sleeves halfway to her elbows, a neckline that hid her collarbones, and a hem down to her knees. She also wore white stockings, flat brown shoes, and no jewelry of any kind.

Clothes could be changed. The one thing I wasn’t crazy about was how thin she was: tall and skinny with no boobs or hips to speak of.

One of the things that drove me wild about Cat was her curves. She weighed a few extra pounds, yeah, but in all the right places. I knew a lot of guys liked thin chicks, but I’d take a thick woman any day of the week.

Unfortunately, my wife-to-be was more of a beanpole.

Another girl was standing behind her – much shorter and rounder with jet-black hair. Cute, too, but in a different kind of way. Given her apron, I took her for a servant. Her expression was blank as she gazed down at me.

All in all, I probably would have gone for the servant girl instead of my new fiancée.

But neither of them could hold a candle to Caterina.

“Come here and meet your new husband,” Vicari demanded.

The tall girl meekly descended the steps and stood beside her great-grandmother, who beamed up at her and put an affectionate hand on her arm.

“I’m Valentino Rosolini,” I said politely.

“Isabella Vicari,” she replied in a quiet voice, then blushed and looked down at the ground – all without smiling.

This was going to be a struggle, I could tell.

But I was a charming motherfucker, if I do say so myself, so I figured I could get her laughing and talking in no time.

“We should probably get to know each other,” I said with a smile. “Is there someplace the two of us can go and talk?”

“Not alone, you won’t,” Vicari said sternly.

I looked over at him in surprise –

And noticed the old lady was scowling.

Jesus –

What did they think I was going to do, get her behind the nearest bush and go at her like a dog in heat?

“We’ve got dinner set up out back,” Vicari said. “You can talk to her there – with everyone else.”

“…okay…” I said, taken aback at their lack of trust.

I followed Don Vicari as he strode into the house, but I paused at the threshold and glanced back at Isabella.

She was smiling in a resigned sort of way at her grandmother.

“Pretty, eh?” the old lady said cheerfully as she pointed in my direction.

Isabella glanced up at me – saw I was looking at her – and blushed furiously before dropping her eyes.

I sighed as I walked into the house.

This was going to be a weird fucking marriage.

32

The hotel Nic and I had met Don Vicari in was straight out of The Godfather Part II.

Now, sitting outside Don Vicari’s house, I found myself in a scene from the first movie.

Michael Corleone (played by Al Pacino) is hiding out in Sicily. While he’s there, he sees a beautiful girl named Apollonia and gets struck by the thunderbolt. That’s the Sicilian way of saying love at first sight.

He immediately wants her – needs her – and the only way to do that in Sicily back in the 1940s was to get married (unless you wanted her father or brothers to shoot you in the head).

So Michael talks to her father and goes to visit the girl for the first time. While he’s there at the house, he’s surrounded by a couple dozen of her relatives, from great-grandmas to 5-year-old cousins.

That was pretty much what lunch was like.

There was a massive table set out on a back porch with tons of Sicilian food: caponata made with eggplant, risotto with peas and bits of meat in it, bowls full of pasta, and lots of cold cuts and peasant-style brown bread. Plus homemade wine in bottles without labels.

Everything was simple but delicious – and very different from the food I was used to back in Tuscany.

Around the table sat two dozen relatives, mostly women with a lot of little kids.

Servants flitted back and forth, filling glasses and bringing new platters of food.

And in the background stood a bunch of armed foot soldiers.

Don Vicari sat to my right. Across from me sat Isabella. Her great-grandma sat next to her and across from Don Vicari.

The old lady smiled constantly. She didn’t eat much, but she could really put the wine away.

Also, I noticed that Isabella’s servant girl hovered in the background directly behind her, watching with that same emotionless expression I’d seen on her face earlier.

“Those are my older daughters, Abriana and Marcella,” Vicari said, pointing out two women in their late 20s or early 30s. They both looked up and smiled dutifully, then turned back to yelling at their kids. “Everybody else are their in-laws – sisters, cousins, aunts. Their husbands couldn’t be here because they’re busy running my territories down south. After you settle in, you’ll go meet my son Rocco. Start learning your new job. He’ll show you the ropes.”

“My new job?” I asked, surprised.

“What, you think you’re gonna lounge around all day for the rest of your life?” Vicari said contemptuously. “No. You’re gonna work, just like everybody else. Rocco’ll show you the ropes.”

“Great,” I said unenthusiastically. Then I looked up at Isabella. “Well, now that I’ve got a job, I’ll need to have fun when I’m off work. What do you do for fun?”

“Reading, mostly.”

“…reading,” I repeated, not sure if I’d heard correctly –

Because reading sure didn’t sound like fun to me.

Clubbing, skiing, going out with friends – those were fun.

Reading was homework.

Isabella smiled. “I love reading.”

So… everything Don Vicari had said about her being a bookworm really was true.

Great.

“Plus,” she added, “there’s not much else to do around here.”

I glanced over my shoulder.

There were some shaded areas with trees behind me, but beyond that it was rolling hills that went on and on for miles, with nothing but dried-out, brown vegetation.

“…yeah,” I said gloomily, then turned back to my lunch.

“Right now I’m reading My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante,” Isabella said eagerly. “And I love Rupi Kaur.”

“…Roopee… Car?” I asked, not knowing who the fuck she was talking about.

“Yeah – she got very famous on Instagram, then started publishing her poetry.”

“So you found her on Instagram?”

“Oh no,” Isabella said very seriously. “Papa won’t let me have a computer.”

Okay, THAT’S weird.

“What about your phone, though?” I asked. “I mean, that’s where most people use Instagram, anyway.”

“Papa won’t let me have a phone, either.”

I stared at her like she just told me she liked to eat raw goat meat.

Although I had to say, in retrospect, Don Vicari taking my phone seemed a little more understandable now.

“The filth that’s out there these days,” Vicari grumbled. “The internet is filled with it.”

The great-grandmother crossed herself and murmured, “Infamia.”

I stared at them like I’d realized I was eating with a bunch of Martians.

I wanted to say to Vicari, Wait – WHAT do you do for a living, again?

And WHAT was that you said earlier about how many Sicilian girls you fucked before you got married?

But I didn’t want a bullet in the back of my head, so I just kept quiet.

“What do you read?” Isabella asked cheerfully.

“…um… Men’s Fitness, I guess. Sometimes.”

Isabella frowned. “What’s that?”

“A magazine about getting ripped.”

“…ripped?”

“You know. Bigger muscles.”

“Oh.” She looked puzzled. “But what books do you read?”

I chuckled. “I haven’t read a book since I left school.”

Isabella looked momentarily horrified – then she brightened. “Oh – so you finished university.”

“No, I didn’t go.”

Her eyes widened. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.”

“So you haven’t read a book in – four years?”

“…uh… yeah.”

“…I see,” she murmured.

“No need to read books if you’re out in the real world,” Vicari said through a mouthful of food.

Isabella looked down at her lap.

I immediately wanted to come to her defense –

But it was kind of hard to do when I hadn’t read a single book since high school.

We mostly ate in silence after that.

33

The awkwardness continued after dinner.

Don Vicari told us he had business to attend to, but he apparently remembered what I’d said to his daughter earlier.

“You two should get to know each other better,” he said.

I already knew Isabella well enough to realize this was going to be the worst arranged marriage of all time. I didn’t need to get to know her any better.

I just wanted to call Niccolo and bitch him out for ruining my life.

But I didn’t have that option, seeing as Don Vicari had my phone.

“Isabella, show him around the property,” he ordered – then added, “Chaperoned, of course.”

“Yes, Papa,” she replied timidly.

By ‘chaperoned,’ I assumed somebody would watch us from a distance.

I didn’t realize that every fucking woman at the lunch party except for the great-grandmother would walk along behind us.

Probably the only reason the great-grandmother didn’t go was because she was too slow.

Not only that, but four foot soldiers with shotguns accompanied the group.

I couldn’t fuckin’ believe it.

There I was, walking through the gardens behind the house with my future wife…

While 15 relatives and female servants chatted with each other about 20 feet behind us…

And four dudes with shotguns came along, too.

Fuckin’ weird.

“Is this normal?” I asked Isabella in a low voice as we started the walk.

“What – being chaperoned?” she asked in surprise.

I looked over my shoulder. “If that’s what you call this – yeah.”

“It’s normal if boys visit, yes.”

“I’m not a boy,” I said humorously.

I thought it was funny –

But Isabella’s face immediately clouded over, and she stared down at the ground in embarrassment. “Of course not – I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine,” I said, alarmed that she was acting like I’d yelled at her. “I’m a boy. It’s cool.”

She looked over at me and forced a halfhearted smile, then looked down at the ground again.

Jesus…

I guess that’s what having Don Vicari for a father will do to you.

“So… uh… have many boys come to visit?” I asked.

“No. Just a couple of times.”

“And did you go out on chaperoned walks?”

“Yes.”

“What happened after that?”

“We didn’t have much to talk about, and they never came back.”

Lucky them.

Apparently, they weren’t locked into an arranged marriage.

“Well, since I’ll be sticking around,” I said, only half-joking, “what do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know,” she said quietly.

This was like pulling teeth.

“How about you tell me your favorite place you’ve visited?” I asked.

“I’ve been to Palermo a couple of times.”

“No, I mean, like, outside of Sicily.”

“I’ve never been outside of Sicily.”

“WHAT?!” I shouted.

The entire group of women behind us fell silent –

And two of the foot soldiers reached for their guns.

“It’s cool – it’s fine!” I yelled at them.

The women all looked at me distrustfully –

Especially the darker-haired servant girl, who was walking directly behind Isabella and staring at me intently.

At least the foot soldiers relaxed.

“Jesus,” I muttered, then turned back to Isabella. “Seriously – you’ve never been off of Sicily before?”

“No. In fact, I’ve only been off our estate maybe a dozen times in my life.”

“Oh my God,” I said in shock.

“You shouldn’t do that,” she whispered.

“Do what?”

“Take the name of the Lord in vain.”

Holy fucking SHIT.

I wanted to ask her, Do you KNOW what your father does for a living?!

But I didn’t say anything. I was too surprised.

Isabella whispered, “Not that I care. I don’t. But some of the others are very religious.”

She gestured with her head behind us.

I turned to see a couple of the older women giving me the stink-eye.

Okay, good to know.

“Thanks for the heads-up,” I muttered.

“You’re welcome,” she whispered, then returned to her regular voice. “So, where have you been?”

“Lots of places.”

“Like where?” she asked excitedly. “Have you been to Rome?”

I chuckled. “Uh… yeah.”

“Naples?”

“And Paris, and London, and Barcelona, and New York, and Los Angeles, and Zurich, and – ”

“Oh my God!” Isabella exclaimed –

Then her eyes grew wide. She clapped a hand over her mouth and looked back guiltily.

I glanced around to see all the women giving her the stink-eye –

Except the dark-haired servant girl, who was having a hard time suppressing a smile.

Huh…

“You’ve been everywhere!” Isabella whispered in awe.

“Not even close,” I said. “I haven’t been to Africa, or Asia, or Australia, or South America – ”

“But I haven’t been anywhere,” she said mournfully. “I’ve only read about them.”

“And seen them in movies,” I added.

She didn’t say anything.

“And seen them in movies – right?” I prodded.

“Papa won’t let me watch television.”

WHAT… THE ACTUAL… FUCK.

Don Vicari was a fucking monster.

“Okay, that’s got to change,” I said, shaking my head in astonishment.

“Papa doesn’t like change,” she said apologetically.

“I’m starting to realize that.”

I looked behind me again –

And noticed the servant girl was staring at me.

When our eyes met, she quickly looked away.

I stepped in closer towards Isabella. “What’s with you and – ”

“Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah!” the Sicilian women started yelling at me –

All except the servant girl, who looked amused.

“What?! What?!” I yelled back at the women.

Isabella winced. “You should probably keep an arm’s distance between us at all times.”

Holy fucking –

“Alright – ALRIGHT!” I yelled at the women as I stepped back. “There! Happy?!”

They stopped shouting, but every single woman was giving me the stink-eye now –

Except for the servant girl, who had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing.

“What’s with your servant girl?” I asked Isabella.

Isabella glanced behind us. “Ludavica? She’s been with me since we were children. Her mother worked here, too, until she died a few years ago. Ludavica’s my best friend in the whole world.”

“Oh. Well, that’s nice.”

Isabella flashed a smile behind her at Ludavica, then turned to look off into the distance. “If I didn’t have her here, I think I’d go insane.”

I 100%, totally and completely understood what she meant…

Since I was starting to go insane here, too.

34

As it got close to sunset, Isabella said she was tired, so she went back to the house with Ludavica and all the women.

Three of the foot soldiers went with them, but the fourth stayed with me.

As a guide?

A bodyguard?

A jailer?

Who knew. Maybe all three.

He was dour, that was for sure. He had a particularly bad male version of Resting Bitch Face – ‘Resting Bastard Face,’ I guess, with a grimace like he’d just bit into a lemon.

He looked like he was in his late 30s, but when I asked him, he said he was only 27.

Life was hard in Sicily, apparently.

But the weather was great. It had been around 85 degrees Fahrenheit in Palermo, but up here in the mountains, it was in the mid-70s.

Since there was nothing better to do – no phone, no internet, no TV, no nothin’ – I decided to go exploring on my own.

Well… with Resting Bastard Face along for the ride, anyway.

The ‘gardens’ I’d walked through with Isabella (and 3000 of her female in-laws) had mostly been a bunch of different plants the kitchen used for spice and herbs, along with fruit trees and some ornamental bushes with red berries. Everything had the scraggly look of plants that could thrive in an arid environment, which Sicily definitely was.

I left the gardens and headed out into the rolling hills.

You could literally see for miles. Lots of craggy grey boulders poking up out of patches of green; the rest was dry brown fields.

“Do they grow something here?” I asked RBF (short for Resting Bastard Face).

“Grain,” he said dourly.

Talkative guy.

From far away, I heard the clanking of cowbells. A half-mile away, maybe more, a bunch of them dotted one of the hillsides, grazing amongst the boulders.

In the far distance – quite a few miles away – there were a couple of small villages: one to the east, and one to the south. I doubted more than 500 people lived in either one. I could only tell they were east and south because the sun was setting in the west, a ball of golden light disappearing behind the clouds on the horizon.

Between the villages and Don Vicari’s, there was the occasional crumbling stone building with a collapsed roof and walls falling in.

But there was one stone building pretty close to the property, maybe half a mile away, that was in excellent shape. It was old, yes, but it still had shutters over the windows, the wooden door was closed, and the roof was obviously well-maintained.

Thinking it was a horse stable or something, I turned to RBF. “What’s that over there?”

He just shook his head somberly.

“What?” I asked.

“It is not for you,” he said in his thick Sicilian accent.

Now I really was curious. “What’s in there?”

“Ask Don Vicari,” he said coldly, then gestured with his hand back to the main house like, THIS way.

I thought about ignoring him and walking over to see for myself –

But decided I would get my answers later.

I could just imagine Niccolo laying out another rule:

Never argue with a Sicilian with a shotgun.

Especially when you’re unarmed, and he doesn’t particularly like you.

We returned to the house, where a servant escorted me to my bedroom.

It was just as rustic as the rest of the place: exposed wooden beams and white plaster walls.

There was a stone fireplace, a wardrobe, a dresser, and a rickety brass bed.

Back in my family’s house in Tuscany, our walls were decorated with art from the last four centuries.

Here in Sicily, I had a framed print of the Virgin Mary with her heart in flames.

Fuckin’ great.

My suitcases were waiting for me, but I didn’t unpack – not yet.

It felt like giving in… like admitting defeat.

Part of me still believed something might happen and I could get out of this nightmare.

The day I unpacked my clothes was the day I gave up all hope.

Instead, I went to the bathroom to wash up.

Everything inside was ancient: a toilet with the water tank several feet above the commode, a claw-foot tub (no shower), and a single narrow sink on a pedestal.

I turned on the water and splashed water on my face. At least it was nice and cool.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

“Coming,” I yelled as I toweled off, then walked over.

When I opened the door, there stood Ludavica – Isabella’s servant girl.

What the fuck?

I half-wondered if she was there to try to bang me –

But the sullen expression on her face didn’t seem to be pointing in that direction.

Not that I would have, anyway. I was still depressed about Caterina – and even if I hadn’t been obsessing over Cat, banging your future mafia wife’s servant was an excellent way to get a hot lead enema.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“I’m very protective of Isabella,” she said coolly.

Her voice was deeper than I would have thought, and kind of raspy. I liked it. A smoker’s voice, though I didn’t picture her as a smoker.

“…uh… okay,” I said, not sure where this was going.

“I just want you to know that if you hurt her… ever… either now or anytime during your marriage… if you hit her, or abuse her emotionally, or demean her in any way… Don Vicari won’t have the chance to do anything to you, because they’ll find you bled out in your bed with your dick cut off. Capiche?”

WHOA.

Normally I would’ve been pissed off at a guy for talking to me like that –

But it was kind of funny coming from a 5’1” girl in an apron.

I grinned in spite of myself. “Is that how Sicilian servants talk to future husbands around here?”

“This isn’t a joke,” Ludavica seethed. “Do not even think of hurting her.”

I put up my hands like she was mugging me, though I couldn’t stop grinning. “I’ll never harm a hair on her head. I swear on my father’s soul.”

Ludavica looked at me distrustfully… then nodded once, like she was satisfied with my answer.

She turned to go –

“Hey, could I ask you a favor?” I asked.

She looked at me warily. “What?”

“Could you grab me one of the books Isabella likes? Maybe that Car person – ”

“Rupi Kaur.”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“You want to read poetry by Rupi Kaur,” she said incredulously.

I shrugged. “Isabella and me don’t really have much in common, so I thought it might be a good start if I read something she liked. You know… so we can talk about it. But don’t tell her about it. I want to surprise her.”

Ludavica looked at me like I’d just ripped off a disguise I’d been wearing, and she was mildly shocked to see who was really underneath.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she mumbled.

“Thanks.”

Ludavica nodded… looked at me one last time, like I’d pulled off a strange magic trick… and then walked away.

I waited ten minutes for Ludavica to bring the book, but she didn’t show. Guess she had issues slipping it out from under Isabella’s watchful eye.

It was dark outside, but it was still very early – around 9PM.

Since I didn’t have a TV or phone – and no way to entertain myself in my room except for rubbing one out – I started wandering the halls of the house.

The floors were hardwood. They’d been waxed recently, but the wood was scarred and pitted like it had seen a lot of wear over God knows how many years.

The walls were a mix of grey stone and white plaster, with exposed wooden beams in all the ceilings. The only pictures on the walls were religious icons and hunting stuff – like a shadowy painting of dead pheasants hanging up in a row.

The furniture was a mixture of patterned cloth and creaky leather upholstery.

The house was mostly silent, with the tick tick tick of a grandfather clock the loudest sound.

Just like Isabella said, there were no televisions in the house. Or any computers, for that matter.

Don Vicari liked living in the fucking Stone Age, I guess.

I smelled something good from the kitchen – garlic and onion sautéing in butter – and I opened the door to look inside.

A couple of older Sicilian women, probably in their 50s, looked up at me without saying anything.

As I closed the door, a fresh jolt of heartache hit me.

I realized that I’d gone into the kitchen back home so many times, I’d half-expected to see Cat there…

And when she wasn’t, it hurt.

As I walked through the house, I kept thinking of San Vittore, the prison where Dario had served his time.

I’d only visited once, but it had made a searing impression on me.

San Vittore was hell on earth. The stench… the screams… the ugliness…

Don Vicari’s house was nothing like it. It smelled clean, like floor wax. It was quiet. And despite being plain and old-fashioned, it was nice enough to look at.

But despite the differences…

They were both prisons.

And unlike Dario, it seemed I would be here for life.

SHIT…

WHY didn’t I say ‘yes’ and marry Cat?

“There you are,” a deep voice said behind me.

I twitched in surprise and whipped around.

Don Vicari was standing in a doorway behind me.

“Heh,” he laughed in that humorless way, like I was an idiot he found vaguely amusing. “You don’t have to be scared of anything around here. None of my enemies are stupid or insane enough to set foot on my property.”

“You just startled me,” I said defensively.

“Mrm,” he grunted with a smirk, like he didn’t believe me. “Tomorrow you’ll go meet Rocco in Pozzallo. He’ll take you around and show you what to do.”

“Okay,” I agreed, seeing as there wasn’t much else I could do but agree.

“Better get to bed.”

I raised one eyebrow. “It’s barely past nine.”

“Yeah, but you’ll be leaving at five. They’ll have breakfast for you ready in the kitchen at 4:30.”

“In the morning?” I asked, stunned.

“No, in the afternoon,” Vicari said contemptuously. “Of course in the morning. Pozzallo’s three hours away.”

JESUS.

“Okay… so where am I staying tomorrow night?”

Vicari frowned like I was stupid. “Here.”

I stared at him in shock. “You want me to drive three hours there, then three hours BACK?!”

“You won’t be driving. One of my men will take you.”

“What am I supposed to do in the car for six hours?!”

He shrugged. “Watch the scenery.”

“Can I get my phone back so I can at least have it on the trip?” I asked hopefully.

“No.”

“Then how am I supposed to be able to wake up at 4:30?”

“There’s an alarm clock in your room. Use it. We don’t take kindly to lateness or laziness around here.”

Then he turned and walked off.

I stood there in shock.

Wonderful.

Welcome to Sicily.

When I got back to my room, a black book with white drawings of two bees on the cover was lying on my pillow.

I picked it up and read the title:

Milk and Honey by Rupi Kaur.

Ludavica had come through for me.

Although the prospect of reading poetry was about as appealing to me as eating plain oatmeal.

The title was in English, so I flipped through the pages –

Everything inside was in English, too.

Great.

I could speak English really well – Papa had made sure we had the best tutors money could buy – but I wasn’t a fan of reading in general. Reading in English was even further down the list.

I picked up the little brass alarm clock on the nightstand and spent a few minutes fiddling with it, trying to figure out how it worked. I’d never seen one before in real life – only in movies.

Trust an asshole like Don Vicari not to have radio alarm clocks.

After setting the alarm just slightly past the current time and successfully getting it to go off (JESUS CHRIST THAT’S LOUD), I set it for the next morning and stripped down to my boxer briefs for bed.

As I slipped under the sheets – not like our luxurious sheets at home, but soft enough – I thought about what the next 24 hours held for me.

Getting up before it was dark…

A three-hour car ride…

And poetry.

Three of my favorite fuckin’ things in the whole wide world.

That was sarcasm, if you didn’t catch it.

Then my mind drifted to getting up early back at home for an entirely different reason, and I thought about my actual favorite thing in the world:

Fucking Cat.

Looking into her eyes as she came.

Hearing her scream –

The way it felt to bust inside her without a condom –

FUCK.

I had to stop thinking about her…

Otherwise it was going to be a long fucking night.

35

Caterina

Ilay there in the dark, staring up at my ceiling, unable to sleep.

Alessandra had asked her grandmother for help, and Signora Oldani said yes.

Apparently, she had contacts in other families’ households and was going to reach out to someone she knew in Sicily – a nephew of one of her longtime servants.

Signora Oldani said there were no guarantees, but she would have an answer for us tomorrow.

As I lay there in bed, my mind racing, tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

But the idea of what lay ahead terrified me.

I’d never been outside of Tuscany before.

The idea of going to an island 700 miles away where I didn’t know a single soul –

And trying to find Valentino while he was living with a mafia family –

It was inconceivable to me.

But like Alessandra said, If you want Valentino back, this is how we do it.

There didn’t seem to be another way…

And to be honest, I would do anything if I could just see him again…

Just kiss him again.

So I tried to quiet my mind and fall asleep…

Because tomorrow could potentially be a long, long day.

36

Valentino

Inearly had a heart attack when the brass alarm clock went off at 4:15.

Fucking Don fuckin’ Vicari –

After I slammed the fucking clock so it shut up, I thought about staying there in bed for a few minutes longer…

But I remembered the mafia don’s warning:

We don’t take kindly to lateness or laziness around here.

Besides, my heart was racing so hard after having a goddamn cymbal factory wake me up that I decided to just get going.

Since I only had a bathtub, I did a quick once-over with a washcloth. Then I dressed in slacks and a white linen shirt, took the copy of Milk and Honey with me, and made my way groggily down the hall.

An old servant lady was in the kitchen. It was pitch black outside, but she was already hard at work getting breakfast ready for the family.

She’d prepared me a plate of cold cuts, cheeses, grapes, and rough brown bread. Not exactly a fancy breakfast, but it tasted good.

More important was the strong coffee she’d brewed in a metal pot. The kitchen didn’t have a fancy espresso machine, but the oily black liquid she’d fixed was twice as strong. I was wired by the time I finished my second cup.

Just as I was finishing up, a clean-shaven guy walked into the kitchen. He couldn’t have been any older than me. He had jet-black hair and was about my height with a wiry build – maybe not super-strong, but definitely not weak.

He wore a cheap black suit like Don Vicari’s guys at the hotel yesterday, but he styled his hair very carefully with gel.

“Hey, boss, you good to go?” he asked.

“You my driver?” I asked.

“Yes I am. The name’s Paulo.”

With just that little exchange, Paulo was more talkative than 95% of the other Sicilians who worked for Don Vicari – and a hell of a lot friendlier.

“Cool, I’m Valentino. Let’s do it,” I said as I stood and picked up the book of poetry. Then I told the kitchen lady, “Thanks for breakfast.”

She just nodded silently and went back to work.

Like I said: talkative.

Paolo led the way outside, where a black Alfa Romeo SUV was parked on the gravel drive. Over the scrunch of the rocks beneath our feet, I heard a familiar sound clanking far away in the darkness.

“Are those cows?” I asked, astounded they would be up that early.

“Yeah. The fuckers never shut up,” Paolo said. “‘Scuse my French.”

“Speak French all you want,” I said as I got in the front passenger seat.

Paolo looked at me in surprise as he got behind the wheel.

“I’m not a little old lady you need to fuckin’ chauffeur around,” I told him.

“Alright, then,” he grinned, and started the engine.

We talked as Paolo made his way through the winding roads in the hills.

We were both a little wary of saying too much – especially about his employer and my future father-in-law – but I found out a lot about the family operation.

“Rocco’s basically the capo of the south side of Sicily,” Paolo explained, using the word for ‘boss’ that described a Cosa Nostra leader just below the don and consigliere. For instance, Adriano was capo of Florence. “His brothers-in-law Tony and Santiago work for him. You met his sisters Abriana and Marcella yesterday, right?”

“Yeah,” I said, recalling the don’s other two daughters. “Work for him doing what, exactly?”

“Ahhh, you know,” Paolo said evasively.

“No, I don’t.”

Paolo glanced over at me. “Word is you’re from another family.”

He meant another Cosa Nostra family.

“Yeah, so?”

“So… you know.”

I sighed in exasperation. “Our operation was mostly bribing judges, cops, and politicians.”

“Oh.” Paolo smiled tightly. “Well, this ain’t that.”

“What is it, then?”

“Collections, mostly.”

He meant protection rackets. Extortion.

“From who?”

“Shopkeepers, mostly. They take a cut from the pimps and drug dealers, too.”

Great.

Don Vicari was old-school mafia, and so was his son Rocco… which meant they did all the old-school shit that people hated the mafia for.

“Don’t tell Rocco I told you that, though,” Paolo said with an edge of nervousness in his voice.

“Don’t worry, I’ll play stupid,” I promised. “What’s Rocco like?”

“Uhhh… he’s… interesting.”

“Interesting how?”

Paolo paused for a second, then said, “What we say in the car stays in the car, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good. You could say Rocco’s got a Napoleon complex.”

“Little man syndrome,” I suggested.

“Exactly.”

Paolo was saying Rocco was short, and he felt the need to overcompensate by being a total dick.

Good to know.

“Is it really three hours to where we’re going?”

“‘Fraid so.”

“Great,” I said as I pulled out Milk and Honey.

Paolo glanced down at the book. “Huh. Didn’t figure you for the poetry type.”

“I’m not,” I sighed. “But Isabella is.”

“Ah, the Don’s daughter. She’s a nice girl.”

“She seems that way,” I agreed.

“‘Seems’ that way?” Paolo said in surprise.

I looked over at him like, You didn’t know?

“Shit, the Don really did an arranged marriage, huh?” Paolo asked.

“Yeah,” I said grimly.

“Fuuuuuuck. I thought that shit went out of style fifty years ago.”

“So did I.”

He laughed. “Bet you thought you were gonna have an easier life marrying her than getting up at the buttcrack of dawn and driving three hours to do gangster shit, huh?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “I did.”

While Paolo drove, I read some poetry and was instantly surprised. Not by the poetry itself – but that Isabella was reading it. It had some pretty hardcore feminist stuff in it.

I smiled. She was smuggling stuff into the house that Don Vicari wouldn’t approve of, right under his nose.

He had a rebel in the house and didn’t even know it.

But poetry is like ouzo, a Greek liqueur that tastes like licorice:

Some love it, but I’m not a fan. And I definitely hadn’t developed a taste for it.

I eventually got sleepy, put the book down, and reclined the seat.

“I’m gonna take a nap.”

“Go for it, boss,” Paolo said.

I closed my eyes. With the hum of the engine and gentle vibration from the car, I was out in just a few minutes.

When I woke up, we were driving along the coast. The sun was sparkling over the Mediterranean as we sped down a highway with a lot more traffic on it.

“How long was I out?” I asked as I squinted against the light.

“Maybe an hour.”

“So we’re not even close yet, are we.”

“A little more than halfway. We just passed Catania.”

I had no idea where Catania was, but now I knew it was about halfway to Pozzallo.

As I rubbed my eyes, I thought about all the times I’d woken up in Cat’s bed.

My heart ached, and I would have given just about anything to be beside her right now.

Inside her would’ve been even better.

Maybe I could at least call her, though. I’d memorized her number a long time ago in case of emergency.

“Can I borrow your phone?” I asked.

Paolo winced. “Sorry, boss. That was the one thing they told me I absolutely could not do.”

I was expecting his answer, but it pissed me off all the same.

“‘They’?” I asked.

“My boss,” he clarified. “Which he got from his boss.”

“Isn’t Don Vicari your boss?”

“He’s, like, my boss’s boss’s boss.”

“They’ll never know you loaned it to me,” I said, then added, “What happens in the car stays in the car, right?”

“Not if they’d chop my dick off if they find out.”

“Can I at least use Google Maps so I can see where the fuck we’re going? I have no idea where Pozzallo is, how big it is, or anything.”

“…yeah… I guess I can do that much. But seriously, don’t go callin’ or texting any chicks, okay?” he said worriedly.

“I won’t,” I grumbled.

Which had been the one thing I really wanted to do.

I punched in our destination and looked at the map. I saw that Pozzallo was on the southeastern coast of Sicily – a sleepy little beach town, possibly a touristy area.

Then I backtracked along the blue line to see what else we would pass –

“Holy shit!” I exclaimed.

“What?”

“Rosolini’s on the way!”

Paolo gave me a weird look. “So?”

“So my last name is Rosolini! My grandfather came over to Tuscany from Rosolini!”

“Huh,” Paolo said noncommittally.

“Let’s stop by.”

Paolo gave me another look. “It’s just a little town out in the middle of nowhere.”

“Is it far out of the way? It doesn’t look like it from the map.”

“No, it’s maybe a five-minute detour, but – ”

“Then I wanna see it!”

Paolo winced. “But Rocco’s expecting us at eight, boss.”

“I’ll handle Rocco. You just take me to Rosolini.”

“But – ”

“It’s where my family came from. Don Vicari wouldn’t begrudge me this.”

“Yeah, but – ”

“Did they specifically tell you not to stop anywhere along the way?”

“No, but – ”

“Then what happens in the car, stays in the car.”

Paolo shook his head glumly. “I’m gonna regret this. I just know it.”

All my life, I’d heard that Rosolini was this fairytale-like town: charming, quaint, beautiful beyond compare.

My grandfather died before I was born, so I heard all the stories from my father. He told me that my grandfather had left behind his and Nonna’s beautiful home in Sicily to come to Florence, where he could create a better life for their family.

Back in Sicily, my grandfather was a small fish in a small pond. But in the wide-open waters of Tuscany, he made a name for himself – and created a kingdom for his family.

My grandfather had spoken of his old town reverentially. My father told me it was true – that Rosolini was more beautiful than anything Florence could offer.

It was always curious to me why he never took me and my brothers there to visit.

I was about to find out.

Paolo pulled off the main highway and continued down a road towards the town.

I could tell things weren’t going to match the fantasy when I saw all the graffiti along the way.

The outskirts of the town had a decidedly industrial feel – storage facilities and warehouses – and the older buildings were crumbling. Weeds choked the side of the road.

Things’ll get better, I told myself.

Even Florence is ugly in the new part of town. The Old Quarter is where it’s beautiful.

And it did get better.

And it was quaint… and kind of charming…

But not nearly as good as my father had made it sound.

All the satellite dishes poking up from all the roofs didn’t help.

We reached a huge square in the middle of town. Paolo parked, and I got out and looked around.

On one side was an old sandstone church, probably four stories tall.

The church was fairly impressive, over twice as tall as any nearby buildings, with a couple of statues of saints on top of the roof.

But once you’ve seen St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, or even the Duomo in Florence… let’s just say Rosolini’s suffered by comparison.

I looked around the rest of the square.

There were no fountains or statues – just a few lampposts.

Everything else was kind of bland. Beige two-story buildings.

The whole place felt old – but not like a medieval town, where you could feel the centuries in the cobblestones.

More just… worn out. Tired.

I could imagine it 60 years ago when my grandfather was here – during a festival, with a thousand people in the square and brightly colored decorations on the buildings. Old-timers sitting in street cafés, drinking coffee and wine as children ran past.

But now, at 7:45 on a weekday morning, it was deserted.

From a side street, I could hear the putt putt of a scooter racing past, but not much else.

No church bells, no laughter, no talking… just the silence of a dead town.

Now I knew why my father had never brought us to visit.

The fantasy had been better.

“Let’s go,” I said to Paolo as I got back in the SUV.

37

An hour and a half later, we pulled off the main highway, navigated through a bunch of smaller streets, and wound up at an open-air café within sight of the Mediterranean.

Outside on the patio, a bunch of wannabe tough guys were sitting and standing around.

They were trying to look like badasses but not quite pulling it off.

To the average person, they were probably frightening – but none of them had the presence of Dario, Adriano, or Massimo. And they didn’t look one-tenth as scary as Don Vicari.

Plus, they were all dressed in tracksuits or clubbing clothes, with too-tight shirts to accentuate their biceps.

Super try-hard, super cringe.

In the center of the group was a smaller guy holding court. He was dressed in a black tracksuit with red and white piping on the sleeves and legs. He wore a wife beater under the unzipped jacket, although he probably shouldn’t have. It revealed his slight gut.

I could tell he was Don Vicari’s son just from the facial resemblance: the same vicious eyes, the same meaty nose. But he didn’t have a mustache, and his hair was buzzcut down to a dark fuzz on his scalp.

All in all, he looked like a cheap, two-bit thug.

How he acted towards me didn’t change my impression.

“Ahhh, here he is,” Rocco half-joked, half-sneered as Paolo and I walked up. “My new brother-in-law. Pop said you were pretty as a little girl. He wasn’t kiddin’, was he, boys?”

They all laughed.

“Better than being ugly as fuck,” I replied.

Rocco’s smile faded as he glared up at me. “You’re late.”

“What, did I hold you up from eating another pastry?”

The tough guys around him shifted uncomfortably. Apparently nobody talked back to Rocco.

“Funny guy,” Rocco said in a pissed-off voice. Then he turned to Paolo and tapped his Rolex. “What the fuck?”

Before Paolo could speak, I said, “That’s my fault. I ordered him to go see Rosolini.”

Rocco gave me a bewildered look. “Why?”

“My family’s originally from there.”

“That piece of shit town? My condolences,” he said with a laugh, and all his buddies laughed, too.

That pissed me off.

Partially because I kind of agreed with him –

But I wasn’t about to let him know that.

“My last name’s Rosolini,” I said coldly.

“Then I’m doubly fuckin’ sorry,” Rocco said with a grin. “Must suck to be named after a shithole.”

All his buddies laughed again.

I smiled. “Well, we can’t all be named after child-molesting, wannabe priests.”

‘Vicari’ was Italian for ‘vicars,’ which were lower-level representatives of the Catholic church.

There were a couple of scattered laughs from the dumber thugs –

Until they realized Rocco was pissed, and they shut the hell up.

“What did you just say?” Rocco asked, his nostrils flaring.

“Oh – I thought we were just having fun. But sure, if you want me to say it again: we can’t all be named after – ”

Rocco shot to his feet, his chair scraping on the concrete, and stomped over to me.

I had to stifle a smile.

Dude was 5’3”. He didn’t even come up to my chin.

I soooo wanted to reach over and rub his head like I would a little kid –

But guns might get pulled if I did that, and I didn’t have a gun.

So… not a good idea.

There was silence from all his friends as Rocco glared up at me, his chest all puffed out like an angry rooster.

Then he gave a dead-eyed smile. He was obviously copying his father, but Rocco couldn’t quite make his look as unnerving.

“You’re a real joker, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Sometimes.”

“You like bustin’ people’s balls, huh?”

“Only if I know they can take it.”

That last comment was totally calculated on my part.

I was implying that he could take it.

If Rocco overreacted and got pissed off, then he was showing he couldn’t take a joke – and I knew he wouldn’t want to admit to that.

Much as I hated Niccolo at the moment, I had to give him credit. He was a master of verbal judo, and I’d picked up a few things from watching him over the years.

Rocco realized the bind he was in and reacted just like I thought he would.

“This guy, huh?” he said with a grin to his buddies, and everybody started chuckling again, albeit uneasily. “You hungry, tough guy?”

If he was trying to build bridges, I figured I should meet him halfway. “I could eat something.”

Rocco’s smile disappeared. “Well, too fuckin’ bad, because you’re late. Late fuckers don’t eat, they go straight to work. Now let’s go.”

Okay… not trying to build bridges, then.

Just trying to cut me down to make himself look like a tough guy.

This was going to be a long day.

Paolo stayed behind. Lucky him.

As the rest of us left the café, Rocco rattled off a bunch of introductions. “This here’s Tony and Santiago – also your new brothers-in-law. They’re married to my kid sisters. That’s Mooch, and Bracco, and – ”

I stopped listening and just nodded after Rocco quit talking. “Nice to meet you.”

“Okay, Movie Star, listen up and watch the pros do it. Time to make the money.”

By ‘making money,’ he meant extorting it.

Rocco and his buddies strolled from shop to shop, laughing and jabbering as they went, acting like it was Friday night instead of Wednesday morning.

Every time Rocco and his friends entered a restaurant or shop, the owners immediately tensed up, like they were expecting trouble.

Nothing bad happened, though.

Not at first.

Rocco’s spiel was pretty much the same every time.

“Heeeey, Luciano, what’s good? This here’s my new brother-in-law, Movie Star. That’s what we’re callin’ him. You’re gonna be seein’ him a lot in the months to come, so memorize the face. Now where’s my fuckin’ money?”

The shopkeepers handed over envelopes stuffed with cash. Rocco would count it – moving his lips like he was too stupid to do it in his head – and give a nod of approval. “Alright. See you next month, Luciano.”

We hit 15 shops, one after another.

I got more and more nauseated as time went on.

It was like I was trapped in a shitty movie, forced to watch a bunch of douchebags play tough guys and shake down the powerless.

I wished I could rewrite the movie. I wanted to reach over, tear the money out of Rocco’s hands, give it back to the shopkeepers, and deliver a little speech: These assholes won’t be back again – ever. Keep your money. Spend it on your family.

But I knew that was a good way to earn myself a beatdown.

Not from Rocco and his minions. I was pretty sure they were all show, and that I could take them with the training I’d gotten from Lars.

But Don Vicari’s hardened foot soldiers were another matter.

For the first time, I clearly saw what Dario was trying to do when he took over after Papa died.

Dario had put his foot down: no more drugs, no more human trafficking, no more prostitution, no more extortion – all things Papa and Fausto had been involved in.

Dario got some pushback from Niccolo and Roberto, but he held fast, and we’d gotten out of the dirtiest aspects of the business.

Yeah, we were still outlaws –

But we didn’t prey on the weak.

Not like Don Vicari and Rocco.

I knew the everyday people they were shaking down hated them for it.

And all of this ill will for what – a few bucks?

I’m sure it was a fair amount of cash for the shopkeepers, but it was chump change for the Cosa Nostra.

Back before Fausto fucked everything up, our family made ten times more money than Rocco’s stupid extortion racket.

If Don Vicari was richer than us, why bother with this penny ante bullshit?

The only conclusion I could come up with was this was the way Don Vicari kept his idiot son and his dipshit sons-in-law busy.

At least there wasn’t any violence –

Until one of the shopkeepers couldn’t pay.

It was a tourist shop, the kind of place that sells t-shirts and stuffed animals with ‘I Heart Italia’ on them.

The old guy who ran it looked like he was in his 60s. Grey hair, glasses, dress slacks, and polo shirt.

As soon as he saw us enter the shop, his face filled with terror.

“Nazzareno!” Rocco called out in a chipper voice. “It’s your favorite customer!”

There were a couple of tourists looking at metal paperweights of the Colosseum – two sunburned women with frizzy blonde hair.

“Please,” the old man said to the women in broken English. “Please, we close.”

One of them answered in an American accent. “But it’s the middle of the – ”

“Urgent meeting,” I said in English. “We need to confer with our friend here. You can come back later.”

“But – ”

“ESCI DI QUI!” Rocco roared at the top of his lungs.

I don’t think the women understood Italian, but they understood getting screamed at.

They bolted out the door without another word.

Then Rocco turned back to the old man. “So, Nazzareno – where’s my fuckin’ money?”

“Signor Vicari… please…” Nazzareno begged.

“Please what?” Rocco asked, turning his head slightly like he was hard of hearing.

“I don’t have your money this week…”

“You what?” Rocco asked in fake surprise.

His reaction let me know he was expecting this all along.

This was all a set-up.

They were about to make an example of the old guy.

My stomach tightened with dread.

“My wife has been very sick, Signor Vicari,” Nazzareno whimpered. “I’ve had to take her to doctors in Palermo – ”

“What the fuck do I care about your wife?” Rocco asked.

One of the meatheads used his arm to rake a bunch of knick-knacks onto the floor. All the dipshits laughed.

If I’d had a pistol, I would have gunned them all down.

“Please, Signore,” the old man said, nearly crying. “I have to close the shop when I take her – ”

“Then fuckin’ hire somebody, you old cheapskate.”

“I can’t afford to hire anyone – no one wants to work for what I can pay – ”

“I don’t give a shit about your problems, Nazzareno. I only care about my fuckin’ money, and this is the second time in two months that you’re late,” Rocco said.

Another asshole ripped down a display of t-shirts hanging on the wall. Dozens of shirts collapsed to the ground.

The old man glanced in terror at the guy who’d torn down the display, then looked back at Rocco. “I know, Signore, but – ”

“You know what we do to people who’re late?” Rocco asked in a low, threatening voice.

Nazzareno winced. “Please, Signor Vicari – I can give you everything in the cash register, but – ”

“But it’s not gonna be enough, is it?” Rocco said with fake sympathy.

Another asshole sent a tabletop of snow globes crashing to the floor.

All the glass shattered, and water spilled over the floor in a wave.

Nazzareno hurriedly opened the cash register and held out a handful of small bills.

“Here – I can give you eighty – no, a hundred!” Then he dug coins out of the register and held them out, too. “This is another eight euros – nine – eleven – ”

Before he could finish counting, Rocco slapped his hand and sent the coins clattering to the floor.

“I don’t want your fuckin’ pocket change,” Rocco snarled. “I want my fuckin’ money in twenties, fifties, and hundreds. You know that.”

Then he grabbed the bills out of the old man’s hand. “Looks like you’re four hundred short, Nazzareno. Now I’m gonna have to take it out of your hide.”

Rocco pulled back his hand in a fist –

“STOP,” I shouted.

Rocco looked back at me in utter shock. “What the fuck’re you doing?”

I pulled out my wallet and fished out four bills. “I’m giving him a loan.”

Rocco stared at me like I’d grown a second head.

For that matter, so did the old man – and all the mouth-breathers Rocco called friends.

“Well?” I said as I held out the cash.

Rocco looked at the money, then at me – and his entire face turned into a scowl. “OUTSIDE. NOW.”

I let him stomp past me, then followed him into the street.

“What the fuck’re you doing?!” he seethed as soon as we were outside.

“Don’t you think this is beneath you?” I asked.

“‘Beneath me’?! Who the fuck do you think you are, Mother Fuckin’ Teresa?”

“Beating up old men isn’t going to make these people respect you.”

“No, it’s gonna make them fear me, and then they pay me on time!” he roared. “What the fuck kind of mafioso ARE you?”

“Not the kind who beats up old men.”

“What’re you gonna do, you fuckin’ moron – give money to every goddamn lowlife who can’t pay his bills? Huh?”

“You can do whatever you want to the pimps and the drug dealers, but leave the shopkeepers alone.”

Rocco laughed and shook his head incredulously. “Pop said you Tuscan fucks were soft, but I didn’t know how right he was. Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

He started to push past me to go back into the shop –

But I stopped him with a hand to the chest and pushed him back.

He slapped my arm away. “GET YOUR FUCKIN’ HANDS OFF ME!”

I stepped right up to him and growled low enough that the others couldn’t hear me. “Do not go back in that shop, or I’m gonna hand your ass to you in front of all your buddies and the entire town. THAT’S not gonna make you look so tough.”

Rocco stared at me, his face full of fury –

But I just stood there, never looking away.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he snarled. “Go back to my father’s, you fuckin’ retard. School’s over for today, and you fuckin’ failed.”

“Fine,” I said coldly. “Do you want your money or not?”

I held out the four hundred to him.

He glared at me with all the hatred he had inside him –

And then he snatched the money out of my hand and stomped down the street towards the next shop.

“COME ON, LET’S GO!” he screamed at his buddies.

As they walked out of the shop and followed Rocco, some looked at me in bewilderment. The others sneered in contempt.

I just waited until they rounded the corner. I didn’t think it was wise to pick another fight. There was only so much I could get away with before the knives and guns came out.

The old man stood in his shop doorway, staring at me like he couldn’t believe his eyes.

I reached into my wallet and pulled out the rest of the cash I had in my wallet – everything I’d brought from Tuscany – and held it out to him. It was probably a couple thousand euros.

“That should be enough so he’ll leave you alone for a few months,” I said.

The old man looked down at the money and shook his head in terror. “I – I thank you, but I cannot – ”

“It’s a gift, not a loan. I’m not like them. Take it.” When he still hesitated, I said, “For your wife’s sake.”

His eyes filled with tears, and he hesitantly took the money.

“Che Dio ti benedica, signore,” he whispered.

God bless you, sir.

“Let’s hope,” I muttered, and walked off to find Paolo.

I found him down the street, talking on his phone as he watched me. He must have been following us at a distance.

As I walked up, he said something into his cell, then hung up and put it in his pocket.

“Who was that?” I asked suspiciously, wondering if he was reporting back to Don Vicari.

“Just a girl,” he said, then shook his head. “You’re not making much of an effort to fit in, you know.”

“You saw that?”

“Enough to know you just made an enemy out of the wrong guy.”

“Yeah, well, he ‘fired’ me for the day, so let’s go home.”

Rocco turned and led the way down the street. “Just do me a favor: when you tell ‘em why we’re back early, make sure they know I had nothin’ to do with it.”

“Not a problem,” I said grimly.

38

Caterina

The next morning, Niccolo still hadn’t returned from Sicily. I knew better than to ask questions.

At 8:30, Alessandra knocked on my door. When I answered, she was grinning like a loon, her cell phone at her ear. “It’s him!”

I gasped because I thought she meant Valentino –

But then I realized she was talking about the person her grandmother knew. Her contact inside the Sicilian gangster’s operation.

“Hold on,” Alessandra said into the phone, “I’m putting you on speaker.”

When she did, I heard street sounds: voices calling in the distance, a car driving past.

“I can’t talk long,” the voice said impatiently.

It was a man, probably in his early 20s.

“This is Caterina, the person we’re doing this for,” Alessandra said. She motioned for me to speak.

“…hello,” I said hesitantly.

“Hello,” the voice said curtly. “What do you want to know?”

“We need to know if you can arrange a meeting with Valentino,” Alessandra replied.

“Yes.”

“How can you be sure?” Alessandra asked.

“Because I’m lookin’ at him right now.”

My heart leapt in my chest.

“Valentino’s there with you?!” I cried out.

“No, he’s across the street with some other people.”

“Can I talk to him?!”

“NO,” the man snapped.

I looked at Alessandra in a panic. She waved me off reassuringly.

“Are you sure you can arrange a meeting in the future?” she asked.

“YES. How many times do I have to say it?”

“HOW?” Alessandra snapped right back at him.

“I can’t go into specifics. You’ll just have to trust me.”

“You don’t want us to be able to identify you to the Vicaris,” Alessandra said drily.

“Ding ding ding,” he said sarcastically. “Give the lady a prize.”

Alessandra made a face. It was obvious she thought he was an asshole.

I did, too –

But if he could get me to Valentino…

“Tell us what Caterina needs to do.”

“She needs to get to Sicily as soon as possible. I don’t know how LONG I can guarantee a meeting.”

“How about tonight?”

I looked at Alessandra in shock. She ignored me.

“Perfect.”

“Should she fly into Palermo?”

“No. Fly into Catania – that’ll be closer to where Valentino will be.”

“What should she do when she gets there?”

“Take a taxi to a hotel. Keep your phone on and charged so I can reach you, day or night.”

“Alright, I’ll give her your number. She’ll text you when she knows her arrival time.”

“Fine. Look, I’m taking a big risk here. I could get whacked for this, so I’m expecting something big enough to make it worth my while.”

“Hold on,” Alessandra said. She switched the phone off speakerphone and told me, “I’ll be right back.”

“Alessandra – ”

“I’ll be right back,” she promised, then went out into the hall and closed the door behind her.

I sat there on my bed, feeling guilty that she was doing so much for me…

And that it sounded like it was going to cost her even more than what she’d already given me.

But none of that was helping me calm down, so I pulled out my phone, opened Google Maps, and typed in ‘Catania.’

It was a small city on the eastern coast of Sicily –

Farther away from Florence than I’d ever been in my life.

My heart started beating rapidly in my chest.

That’s when the door opened and Alessandra walked in.

She was no longer on the phone, and she looked positively giddy.

“It’s all set!” she said.

“How much did he want?” I asked worriedly.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Alessandra – ”

“I said don’t worry about it.” She sat down on the bed next to me and took my hands in hers. “I can afford it, and I’m happy to help.”

“Alessandra – ”

“You were my only friend when I came here. You were the first person in this house who showed me real kindness. The others – Massimo, Lars, Roberto – were nice to me because they felt sorry for me, but they still followed Dario’s orders and kept me under lock and key. They became important to me, eventually – but you were my friend when there was nothing in it for you, just because you’re good and kind. Please – let me repay the favor. Please.”

My eyes welled up, and I hugged her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Just make me one promise.”

“What?”

“Do whatever you have to do to get Valentino back.”

“What if he really doesn’t want me?” I moaned.

She laughed. “I know him well enough to know better.”

“But what if?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I know this is scary, but this is your one chance to get him back – and you deserve a shot at happiness. Now – go to Sicily and claim your man.”

I nodded, tears in my eyes, and hugged her again.

39

Valentino

It was a long drive back to Don Vicari’s. I dreaded what would happen the entire way.

Rocco had probably already let his father know what happened in Pozzallo…

And Don Vicari was probably going to have something to say about it.

I was right on both counts.

When Paolo pulled up to the compound, a foot soldier was waiting for me by the side of the gravel drive. “The Don wants to see you.”

Great.

Paolo gave me an uneasy half-smile – Good luck, bud – and I followed the foot soldier into the house.

He took me to a door at the far end of the house and knocked.

“Come in,” said a gruff voice.

The foot soldier gestured – Go in – then walked off.

I entered a small study that was white like all the other rooms in the house.

It was lined with shelves. There were very few books, though. Mostly it was displays of old hunting rifles, knives, and binoculars.

Don Vicari was sitting behind a large wooden desk, which took up half the width of the room.

As soon as he saw me, he got a sour look on his face.

“Sit,” he said, pointing to a wooden chair across from the desk.

I sat down and braced myself to get ripped a new asshole.

It didn’t go quite the way I expected, though.

“You got balls, kid,” he said grudgingly. “I’ll give you that much. Going up against my son, in front of all his men, in a town you don’t run? You got a bleeding heart and shit for brains, but you got balls.”

“Uh… thank you… I think.”

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

“Rocco was hassling an old man with a sick wife,” I said. “I didn’t want to see an old man get beat up, so I offered to pay for him.”

Vicari rubbed his chin thoughtfully, not saying anything.

Then he finally asked, “Are your brothers pussies?”

I immediately got angry. “Excuse me?”

“Anybody who owes them money and doesn’t have it – do they just let them walk away? ‘Cause only a fuckin’ pussy does that.”

“My family doesn’t steal from old men,” I snarled.

“So you look down your nose at me. Is that it?” Vicari asked coldly.

I wanted to say, Well, YEAH –

But I knew I was swimming in dangerous waters and needed to be careful.

“We do our fair share of illegal shit,” I said darkly. “We pay off politicians so they give contracts to the people we tell them to. We pay off judges to throw out cases or give verdicts we want. We pay the police to make sure investigations go nowhere or evidence gets ‘lost.’

“And people pay us a lot of money for those government contracts, and those court cases, and those botched police investigations. Businessmen. Other politicians. Rich people whose kids get in trouble.”

“You control the docks on the west coast, from what I hear,” Vicari said.

“Yeah, and we do have a protection racket so shit doesn’t get stolen or ‘misplaced’ – but we’re dealing with businessmen. Politicians. Rich people. What we don’t do is go around beating up old men who don’t have any money because their wives are sick.”

Vicari looked at me for a long time.

I just waited.

Niccolo said that in a negotiation, after you’ve laid out your offer, the first person to speak is the one who loses.

Again, I pretty much hated my brother right now –

But he was a smart motherfucker.

And in this case, he was right.

Vicari grumbled. “Sometimes Rocco uses a heavier hand than he should with civilians. When it’s pimps and drug dealers, it’s fine to break a few arms and legs – maybe even kill ‘em. Make an example so nobody else steps out of line.

“But I told him to use a lighter touch with the shopkeepers. Most of ‘em are scared shitless and pay on time. If they want to pay but can’t, I told Rocco to just run up the debt and tack on interest. Keep them on the hook.

“But unless a guy is openly defiant – unless he refuses to pay and threatens to make trouble – don’t burn down his fuckin’ shop. Don’t take his livelihood away from him. Otherwise, how the fuck is he gonna pay us?

“But you… you were openly defiant,” Vicari said, wagging his finger at me. “So what the fuck am I supposed to do with you?”

“Maybe don’t make me work with Rocco anymore,” I suggested.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he said, with that cold laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m going to cut you some slack this time because you’re gonna be my son-in-law. But this time and this time only.

“You’re gonna go out with Rocco again tomorrow, and you’re gonna follow his orders. No more of this bullshit. No more making him look bad in front of his men. Got it?”

“I have one question.”

Vicari leaned back in his chair and snorted in exasperation. “What.”

“Once I marry your daughter, am I going to be one of Rocco’s thugs? You just want me to be one of those meatheads who works for him?”

“Two of those ‘meatheads’ are my sons-in-law,” Vicari reminded me.

I tried a little bit of flattery. “Your older daughters seemed pretty smart from what I saw of them yesterday at dinner. But I don’t know about their taste in men.”

“Neither do I.” Vicari chuckled, and this time he actually seemed amused. “In answer to your question: no, I got bigger things in mind for you than being one of Rocco’s flunkies. But first you gotta learn the territory. You see how it all works. Then we talk. Got it?”

I knew he was letting me off the hook and that I should get out while the getting was good.

“Got it,” I agreed.

“Good. Now get the fuck out of here.”

I stood up and started for the door –

“And don’t be late for dinner,” he ordered. “I want you to spend more time with Isabella.”

“Yes, sir,” I said and left the room as fast as my feet would take me.

40

Caterina

It took a while before Alessandra said it was okay for me to leave.

I assumed she had to pay the guy in Sicily, but she wouldn’t tell me for sure – just that we had to wait.

I was a nervous wreck as I packed. Niccolo still hadn’t come home from Sicily, and I was hoping I could be gone before he arrived.

Then the big moment arrived.

Alessandra came to get me just after 3PM.

“You ready?” she asked with a sympathetic smile.

I nodded, trying to look braver than I felt – but I had never been more scared in my entire life.

As I lugged my battered suitcase down the hall, Alessandra walked beside me, giving me advice.

“You’ll be fine – just keep your money safe from pickpockets. But if something happens, call me. You memorized my cell number, just in case?”

“Yes,” I said nervously.

“Good.” She put a reassuring hand on my arm. “It’s going to be okay. It’s all going to work out just fine.”

I forced a smile, but I wasn’t confident.

I had never even flown on an airplane before –

And here I was, about to go straight to the airport in Florence and fly to Sicily!

“Well…” Alessandra said as we reached the door.

“I guess this is it,” I said as I turned to face her.

We looked at each other –

And then both of us welled up with tears as we laughed and embraced.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” I sobbed.

“Hopefully you won’t be away for long,” she whispered into my ear.

I wasn’t nearly as hopeful as she was.

The idea that I could go to Sicily, find Valentino, and convince him to disobey his family’s orders?

It sounded like a fairy tale to me.

Alessandra was sure it would work, though.

When I’d told her my doubts, she said, I’ll believe for the both of us.

Right now, she was doing all the believing.

But I wanted Valentino back so badly I was willing to try just about anything.

That was immediately put to the test.

“Alessandra,” a voice said darkly.

We stopped hugging and looked over to see Don Rosolini and Niccolo striding towards us.

Both of them looked angry.

Not only that, but two foot soldiers were behind them.

My heart literally stopped in my chest.

“Open your purse,” Niccolo commanded me.

I stared at him like a deer in headlights.

“When did you get back?” Alessandra asked, evidently surprised to see him.

“Half an hour ago,” he answered, then turned to me and snarled, “I said – ”

“She’ll do no such thing!” Alessandra interrupted.

Niccolo pointed at her. “You stay OUT of this!”

Alessandra looked like she was about to tear Niccolo limb from limb –

But Don Rosolini jumped in first.

“I’ll handle it,” he said as he gave his brother a warning look.

Niccolo immediately went silent.

Don Rosolini looked at me. “I need to see the contents of your bag.”

Alessandra stepped in front of me, shielding me from her husband. “Why?”

Don Rosolini glared at her. “The fact that I said so is sufficient.”

That didn’t satisfy Alessandra. “Tell me why you need to see her bag!”

Don Rosolini clenched his jaw, but he answered. “One of the servants reported that she thinks Caterina has come into possession of a great deal of money – more than she could have possibly saved while working here.”

Marianna!

I’d bet good money it was her.

She was the only one I’d told I was leaving. When she’d asked how I could just up and quit, I’d told her that I had some money saved. Apparently she’d been suspicious.

That back-stabbing BITCH!

I couldn’t see Alessandra’s face because I was standing behind her, but her voice was scathing. “That’s how you occupy your time now – going around listening to servants’ gossip?”

“Do not defy me, Alessandra,” Don Rosolini said coldly. “Caterina, open your bag.”

I watched as the two foot soldiers moved to either side of me –

And was sure I was about to die.

Alessandra kept looking at her husband, but she said calmly to me, “Open your purse, Caterina.”

My heart stuttered. “M-ma’am – ”

“Open your purse and show him.”

My hands trembled as I opened my bag –

Revealing a thick wad of bills with a rubber band around them.

“HA!” Niccolo said triumphantly.

“I gave it to her,” Alessandra said.

His eyes opened wide. “…what?! Why?!”

“Why do you think? So she can leave here and start a new life.”

Niccolo quickly got over his surprise and went back to being surly. “Servants are not allowed to leave our employ without the express permission of myself or the Don.”

“She has my permission.”

“That’s not enough,” Niccolo said with a trace of contempt in his voice, like he was talking to a child.

I had never heard Alessandra speak like she did next…

And frankly, it scared me a little.

“I am the wife of your Don, consigliere,” she said, her voice cold as steel. “You would do well to remember your place when speaking to me.”

I had never seen Niccolo that shocked before.

Apparently I wasn’t the only one surprised by the way she was acting.

“There are security risks involved!” he protested, trying to justify himself. “She can’t just leave – ”

“She’s heartbroken. Staying here is a reminder of everything she’s lost – everything you TOOK from her,” Alessandra seethed.

Niccolo turned to his boss in exasperation. “Dario – ”

“Go wait over there,” Don Rosolini commanded as he pointed at the other end of the foyer.

Niccolo stared at him. “Are you serious?!”

Dario gave him a warning look…

And Niccolo shook his head in angry disbelief, then walked away.

Don Rosolini turned back to Alessandra. “Niccolo’s right. We are in a delicate situation, as you well know. We can’t afford to let people come and go as they please.”

“Are you worried about Caterina’s safety, or her loyalty?” Alessandra asked coldly.

“Both.”

“Caterina was my first friend when I came here – my only friend. When you forced me to come here that night from my father’s café, she was the only one who showed me kindness. Are you really suggesting that my best friend is going to betray the family?”

When she said that, my heart swelled up and tears sprang to my eyes.

But Don Rosolini was not affected in quite the same way. “Might I remind you, my uncle and cousin betrayed the family.”

“Yes, well, I’d say that says something about your family, not Caterina,” Alessandra snapped.

The look Don Rosolini gave her made me fear for both our lives.

Just when I thought he might have me killed and Alessandra taken upstairs to be beaten, Alessandra spoke again – but this time her voice was pleading rather than angry.

“Isn’t it enough that you sent Valentino away to marry some stranger? Isn’t it enough that you broke Caterina’s heart? Now you have to punish her, too, by making her stay where she’s reminded of him everywhere she goes? This woman, who was the only person to make me feel safe and cared for when I came here?”

Don Rosolini looked from his wife to me.

My eyes welled up from Alessandra’s words.

Maybe my tears moved him. Either way, his expression softened.

“Where are you going?” he asked quietly.

I dropped my eyes. “T-to Florence, Don Rosolini.”

“Since this happened so quickly, I’m assuming you don’t have a job lined up yet.”

“N-no, sir.”

“Stay right here,” he commanded me, then walked towards Niccolo.

My heart froze. I was expecting them to confer on whether I could leave –

And from Niccolo’s expression, apparently he was expecting that, too.

But Don Rosolini walked past his surprised brother into the study and closed the door.

I looked at Alessandra, who shrugged.

Half a minute later, Don Rosolini walked back into the foyer.

My heart was beating so rapidly that I thought I might have a heart attack.

I half-expected him to be holding a gun.

I was sure he would point it at me and pull the trigger –

But then he held out his hand.

In it was another roll of bills, even larger than what Alessandra had given me.

“Here,” he said.

I gasped. “Sir – I can’t – ”

He didn’t bother to argue. He just took my hand, pressed the money into my palm, and folded my fingers over it. “Go somewhere nice. Take a vacation. Try to forget… and heal.”

I was overcome with emotion and burst out sobbing.

Alessandra smiled at her husband like, I KNEW there was a reason I fell in love with you.

“Dario!” Niccolo shouted as he stomped over. “This is unbelievable! You can’t just – ”

“Do you have any money?” Don Rosolini asked.

“What?” Niccolo asked, momentarily distracted from his tirade.

“Do you have any money?” Don Rosolini repeated.

“Uh – yes, but – ”

“Give it to her.”

Niccolo stared at his brother. “Are you serious?”

“Give it to her,” Don Rosolini growled.

Niccolo stared for a second longer in shock –

Then fumed as he pulled out a wallet, took out another several thousand euros, and thrust them at me angrily.

I was too scared to take it from him –

So the Don took it instead and put it in my hand with the rest of the money.

“Che Dio ti accompagni,” he said quietly.

May God go with you.

With that, he signaled to his men, and he turned and walked out of the foyer.

Niccolo glared at me and Alessandra one last time, then followed along behind them.

Once they were gone, Alessandra exhaled loudly in relief.

I looked at her in surprise.

“You weren’t the only one who was scared,” she whispered with a lopsided smile.

I burst into tears and hugged her again. She held me close.

“Thank you,” I sobbed. “For everything you’ve done for me.”

“Thank you,” she whispered into my ear, then pulled away so she could smile at me through her own tears. “For being there when I needed you. I’m glad I can finally repay the favor.”

We cried a little more, hugged again, and then she said, “It’s time.”

She led me outside where a black Mercedes was waiting. As I stuffed the money Don Rosolini had given me into my purse, the driver of the car put my suitcase in the back.

“Pickpockets,” Alessandra reminded me as she pointed at my purse.

“I’ll hide some of it in my bra.”

“Good. I’m here if you need to call me.” She leaned in close and whispered, “Remember everything I told you.”

I nodded.

“It’s all going to turn out fine,” she reassured me with a smile. “I’ll believe for the both of us.”

I hugged her one last time, then got into the car to begin my journey.

To Sicily…

And Valentino.

41

Valentino

The dining room was in another white-walled room, but this time, wooden cabinets lined the walls and showed off old porcelain figurines and gold-rimmed plates.

Isabella and I arrived at the same time. After my run-in with Don Vicari earlier, I wasn’t about to be late.

Nobody else was there yet, so I decided to make conversation with my bride-to-be.

“Hey,” I said with a smile.

“Hello,” she said bashfully.

“I read Milk and Honey,” I said, then tried to remember one of the lines. “‘Sex takes two’ – wait, hold on… there was something about consent…”

Isabella’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

“You can’t tell my father!” she said in a panicked whisper. She glanced behind me, probably to make sure he wasn’t coming down the hall.

“I won’t,” I said, surprised by how afraid she was. “But you were the one who said the book title in front of him, you know.”

“My father hasn’t ever read a book of poetry,” she whispered. “I knew he’d never open it. But if you tell him what it’s about – ”

“I won’t!” I said, like Jesus, calm down!

“Thank you,” she said, relieved. Then she frowned, puzzled. “How did you get a copy?”

“I borrowed yours.”

Back to full-blown panic.

“What?! Did you come into my room?!”

“No, Ludavica got it for me!”

God damn.

If this was what she was going to be like all the time, it was gonna be a long fucking marriage.

Isabella looked angry. “Ludavica gave it to you?! She didn’t ask me!”

“I asked her for it so I could read it as a surprise,” I said hastily, not wanting to get the servant girl in trouble. “So you and me could have something to talk about.”

“…oh,” Isabella said, stunned. “That’s… that’s really nice of you.”

I suddenly felt bad for her.

It seemed nobody in her life had ever taken an interest in the things she loved.

I tried to lighten things up with a jokey tone of voice. “I was kind of surprised you liked it.”

“Why?” she asked with a frown. She was acting like I’d offended her.

“Well, it’s kind of spicy.” I nearly added, For a virgin, but I didn’t think she’d appreciate me bringing that up, so I kept it to something she’d told me herself. “Especially for somebody who can’t watch TV or go on the internet.”

“Oh,” she said, her anger gone. “I guess that’s true.”

“Maybe we could talk about the book later,” I suggested.

“Not here,” she whispered frantically.

“Okay, okay – where, then?”

“…I don’t know…”

That sadness in her voice… like she would never be able to discuss something she loved, at least not openly.

Suddenly, she looked past me and forced a smile. “Hello, Daddy.”

I turned to see Don Vicari walking towards us down the hall.

“What are you two talking about?” he asked suspiciously.

“Just the books she’s reading,” I replied.

“Oh,” he replied like he couldn’t care less. “Go sit down. I’m hungry.”

He brushed past us and went into the room.

I felt even worse for Isabella than before.

A father who treated her like she was barely there…

But who terrified her, too.

Especially if he should find out what she was secretly like.

As much as I didn’t want to marry the girl…

I made a promise that I’d be a thousand times better to her than her asshole father.

Dinner was just me, Don Vicari, Isabella, and the great-grandmother, who was helped into the room by a servant.

No Ludavica. I guess she wasn’t allowed to be present for family meals.

We sat around a huge wooden table made for 12 people. Don Vicari sat at the far end with the old lady at the other.

Isabella and I sat opposite each other in the middle of the table. Even though we were the closest in distance, the whole setup felt strange and stiffly formal.

For the antipasto, there was some weird kind of dish I’d never seen before. It looked like tiny fish skins wrapped around a bunch of stuff.

“What’s this?” I asked, poking at the silver, scaly thing on my plate.

“Sarde a beccafico,” Isabella informed me. “Butterflied sardines stuffed with breadcrumbs, parsley, pine nuts, and raisins.”

I was not a fan of sardines.

“Are sardines a big part of Sicilian cooking?” I asked.

“Fairly big, yes. My father loves them.”

“…great.”

I tried a bite –

And my mouth got flooded with fishy taste.

Fuckin’ sardines…

I forced it down with a big swallow of red wine, which was just okay – not like the fantastic wines my family produced in our vineyards. But at least it killed the fishy taste.

Isabella smiled. “Not to your taste?”

“It’s fine,” I said as I drank more wine and tried to swish it around in my mouth inconspicuously.

Don Vicari didn’t say much. When he did open his mouth, it was talk about boring-ass things like how there hadn’t been enough rain and everything on the property was dying.

I noticed the old bastard loved to complain, complain, complain.

That seemed to be his greatest joy in life: being dissatisfied and pissed off.

The old lady didn’t say anything at all. She just ate in silence. Whenever I looked over and caught her eye, she gave me a big smile before going back to her food.

The main course was Sicilian-style tuna steaks, which were ten times better than the sardines: not fishy at all, and the sauteed garlic and tomatoes they were cooked in were quite good.

It was during the main course that things went sideways.

“So,” Isabella asked, “how was your first day at work?”

I glanced over at Don Vicari, who gave me a dark look.

“Um… uneventful,” I answered.

“That’s funny – I’ve never heard anyone describe being around my brother as ‘uneventful.’”

“Well, you know…” I said, then trailed off, not wanting to get in trouble with the Don.

“My guess is that the evenings will be pretty uneventful, too, without TV or internet,” she said slyly.

Nice. A callback to our secret conversation in the hallway.

“Probably so,” I agreed with a smile of my own.

“If you get bored, I went through my books and found some you might like. I figured you weren’t really one for history or philosophy, but I have a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. Have you ever read that?”

“I saw the movie a long time ago.” When she looked at me blankly, I said, “The one with Guy Pearce and Henry Cavill.”

She looked at me like I’d said some weird Icelandic names. “…who?”

Jesus Christ.

“Never mind. But yeah, I liked the story.”

“You might like the book, then,” she said cheerfully.

I shrugged. “Sure. Why not.”

If the complete lack of entertainment around here continued, I was going to have to find something to fill my time.

Don Vicari snarled at the end of the table, “If you want to waste your time with your nose in a book, Isabella, fine – but don’t waste his time, too.”

I looked at him, shocked.

It wasn’t just a dick thing to say – he was actually angry, way out of proportion to anything she’d actually said.

Isabella blushed deep red and looked down at her plate in shame. “Yes, Papa.”

“Apologize to him,” Don Vicari commanded.

“I’m sorry, Valentino,” she whispered, unable to look me in the face.

I sat there in shock for an instant –

And then I lost it.

I turned to Don Vicari and snapped, “What the hell was that?”

The old bastard looked at me in surprise.

“She was just trying to be nice to me,” I said angrily.

The shock quickly drained from Don Vicari’s face and was replaced with pure rage.

I guess nobody’d spoken to him that way for quite a while.

And possibly the last guy who had spoken that way to him had wound up dead.

A deathly silence filled the room.

It was at that point I realized I might have seriously fucked up.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Isabella staring at me. Her face was white as a ghost.

“What did you just say to me?” Vicari seethed.

I had a choice.

I was already under his thumb as far as the work situation went. Nothing I could do about that.

But this was an entirely different matter.

I could back down and let this asshole grind me under his heel, now and for the rest of my life…

Or I could stand up for myself –

And Isabella.

I knew that if I did stand up for the both of us, it could go badly –

But if I didn’t, my life here in Sicily was going to be hell on earth.

So –

FUCK this guy.

“My future wife was trying to be kind to me,” I said in a cold, vicious tone that matched Vicari’s own. “She was trying to share something with me that means a lot to her – something that she loves. And since she’s going to be my wife, I won’t have anyone talk to her like that.”

Don Vicari looked like he was about to kill me –

But before he could say anything, I hit him with the haymaker:

“After all, don’t you want me protecting your daughter after we marry? Sir?”

Again, credit to Niccolo for the verbal judo. He’d taught me the general principle a couple of years ago when he was explaining how a consigliere could negotiate for his don.

If somebody challenges you, you figure out the one thing they CAN’T say ‘no’ to without making them look like an idiot.

Then you pose a question where they’re FORCED to say ‘no’… or they have to agree with you.

Vicari just sat there stewing in his hatred – but what the fuck could he say?

No, I don’t want you protecting her.

Nobody but a shitheel would say that.

I guess he could’ve said, I’m her father, so I can talk to her any way I want.

But my immediate reply would have been, Well, I’m going to be her husband. And I don’t let ANYONE talk that way to my wife.

If there’s one unspoken rule in the Cosa Nostra – and Italy, really – it’s that you don’t fuck with a man’s woman. And I don’t mean sexually (although it goes for that, too).

What I mean is this:

If you insult a man’s woman, you just insulted him.

If you abuse her in any way, you just abused him.

And if the woman is his wife?

The insult is ten times worse.

If you don’t stand up to the other guy – if you don’t act like he just spat in your face – then you just proved you’re not a man.

Nobody will respect you – and they shouldn’t.

A man who won’t stick up for his woman is a piece of shit, unworthy of respect.

The same rule had to apply in Sicily. If anything, it was probably an even bigger rule around here.

If Vicari was going to get in a pissing match with me over this, then he was the fucking asshole – and we both knew it.

Even if he was a mafia don, that didn’t make the rule go away.

I know, I know –

Most guys, if their woman got insulted by a mafia don, would just sit back and take it.

Because if they didn’t take it, they might wind up dead.

But other men would look at them with contempt or pity…

And their wives sure as hell wouldn’t respect them anymore.

But me?

I wasn’t the kind of guy to sit back and take it.

So if Don Vicari and me were gonna throw down –

Might as well get it over with.

At least none of his hired goat-fuckers with shotguns were in the room.

If it was an even fight, I might even kill him before he could kill me.

But…

It didn’t come to that.

He backed down.

“Waste your time, then,” Vicari snarled. “See if I care.”

And he went back to eating his food.

I glanced over at Isabella.

Though she still looked like she’d crapped a brick, I saw something else in her eyes:

Awe.

I winked at her – with the eye opposite Don Vicari, so he couldn’t see (I wasn’t that stupid). Then I went back to my food.

We ate the rest of the meal in silence.

At the end, Don Vicari got up and left without a word.

“Thank you,” Isabella whispered.

I nodded and smiled. “No problem.”

She got up and left…

And I was alone with the great-grandma.

She got up from her chair with great effort…

Walked over to me, her face blank…

And raised her hand towards my face.

For a second, I thought she was going to slap me for talking to her son like that –

And I’d have to take it.

No way I was going to do anything back to an old lady.

But instead, she patted my cheek softly.

“You a good boy,” she said very seriously.

Then she smiled sadly and walked out of the room.

42

Caterina

Alessandra told me not to tell the driver I was going to the airport.

The driver might tell Niccolo, who would get suspicious.

So I had the car drop me off in my old neighborhood of Santa Maria Novella, near the train station. From there I took a train to the airport and bought a last-minute ticket on a flight to Catania, Sicily.

Flying in a plane for the first time was wild. My heart was beating wildly as it took off – but once I could look out the window at a miniature version of Florence below, I fell in love with flying and decided I want to do this MORE!

I stared out the window at the landscape below for the entire trip. My favorite part was seeing the big blue expanse of the Mediterranean, and then Sicily slowly getting closer like a 3-D map filled with mountains.

I freaked out a bit when we landed, but once it was over, I was sad that it had ended.

I got off the plane in Catania at 8:00 PM. Having never been in an airport before, I was a bit confused about getting my suitcase – but I figured it out.

Once I got my bag from the baggage area, I searched on my phone for hotels and booked online.

I still had my credit card from when I lived in Florence, so I didn’t need to use the cash Alessandra had given me.

Once that was done, I went to the taxi stand and got the driver to take me to my hotel.

It was a modest place run by one of the big American companies, but that was fine. I only needed someplace to sleep until I heard from my contact.

I wasn’t hungry – I’d completely lost my appetite when Valentino left – but I forced myself to eat dinner, which was basically just some crackers and peanuts from the lobby vending machine.

After that, I plugged in my phone to make sure it was charged and turned on the TV to distract me.

It was terrifying to trust some stranger whose name I didn’t even know –

Who might double-cross me and leave me hanging.

But what choice did I have?

I had to see Valentino again.

As long as there was a chance, I would do anything.

I found Legally Blonde on pay-per-view – one of my all-time favorite movies – and settled in to watch it when my cell phone buzzed.

My heart skipped a beat, wondering if it was about Valentino –

But it was Alessandra.

Are you okay? she asked.

I smiled.

At least someone was looking out for me.

I’m fine, I texted back. Just got to the hotel.

Be careful…

I will, I replied.

When the movie was over, I lay there looking up at the ceiling…

And wondered if Valentino was thinking of me.

If he’d thought of me at all since he’d left.

43

Valentino

All I could think about the next day was Cat.

I had a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo that Ludavica had brought to my room after dinner. I’d been reading it as Paolo drove us to meet Rocco.

In the story, a guy named Edmond is engaged to a beautiful girl named Mercédès, but three of his friends betray him and get him sent to prison because one of the guys wants Mercédès for himself.

At first, I saw myself as Edmond: betrayed by someone close to him (Niccolo) and separated from the woman he wants (Cat).

Then Edmond gets sent to prison on an island – which in my case was Sicily.

The only problem with my version was that Edmond was engaged to Mercédès. He wanted to marry her.

I had the chance to marry Cat…

But I said ‘no.’

When I realized that, my version started to fall apart.

Niccolo didn’t want Cat. I knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt.

And Niccolo didn’t betray me. He was an asshole, for sure – but I knew he was trying to save the family.

I still hated him for it, but he didn’t fuck me over just to fuck me over.

Not only that, but three of Edmond’s friends stab him in the back… and I wasn’t prepared to say Dario had fucked me over.

He’d actually given me a chance to walk away, and I’d turned him down.

In my version, it was like Edmond’s friends had said, You can marry Mercédès right now and we’ll leave you alone. So what do you want to do?

And Edmond said, Naah, I think I’ll go to prison instead.

When I realized that, I had to quit reading.

Instead, I daydreamed about Cat.

I missed everything about her.

Her body –

Her smile –

Her laugh –

Her eyes –

Everything.

Thinking about her – and not being able to have her – felt like being stabbed in the heart.

For the thousandth time, I wished I’d told Dario Yes.

When I closed the book, Paolo looked over. I was in the front seat next to him, same as yesterday.

“Hey, boss – can I ask you somethin’?”

“Sure,” I said, expecting to hear a question about Florence or Tuscany.

“Could you put in a good word for me with the Don?”

I looked over at him in surprise. “What?”

“It’s just… I’ve been working as a driver for a couple of months, and they’re not moving me up,” Paolo moped. “I’m not makin’ hardly any money.”

“I’m sure they’ll promote you when they’re ready.”

“That’s just the thing – I’m not sure they’ll ever be ready,” Paolo griped. “Things don’t move as fast here in Sicily. People stay stuck in the same job for years.”

“What do you want?” I asked, then added sardonically, “You wanna be in Rocco’s crew?”

“It’d pay a hell of a lot better than what I’m making now. Those guys make four or five times what I do.”

“Don’t ever join Rocco’s crew,” I warned him. “Those guys are fucking assholes.”

“I know, I know – but maybe, if you could put in a good word for me – ”

“You know I’m not exactly on Don Vicari’s list of favorite people, right?” I asked humorously.

“But you’re gonna be his son-in-law.”

“If he doesn’t kill me first.”

Paolo looked at me in shock.

“I’m kidding,” I said. After a second, I added, “Mostly.”

“You got pull, though, boss,” Paulo pleaded. “One word from you and I’d be set.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I said, not wanting to make any promises.

“Thanks, boss,” he said happily. “Thanks a lot.”

I shook my head and sighed.

Paolo had no idea what he was asking for.

If he did, he might want to stay a driver forever.

44

Caterina

Istayed up most of the night, unable to fall asleep. Instead, I doomscrolled Instagram and watched TikTok videos until I finally passed out sometime around 4 AM.

When I woke up around 8, I blearily checked my phone –

And freaked out when I saw a text had come in at 7 AM.

The buzzing of the phone must not have been loud enough to wake me.

I frantically opened the message and read it.

I’m taking your guy to Gela.

Look on the internet and book a room at Casa di Violetta.

Hire a taxi to take you there. Get the address off the internet and give it to the driver.

Text me when you get there.

When I can, I’ll text you where to meet us.

And DON’T wear any perfume. I don’t want to take him back home smelling like you.

Another text message had come in at 7:30:

Text me back to confirm you got this.

My heart nearly leapt out of my chest as I texted back, I got it!

Then I ran around the room like a chicken with its head cut off.

After all, I was an hour behind.

I have to pack!

I have to go NOW!

I hurriedly showered and threw on some clothes. I figured I could do my makeup in the cab or at the hotel in Gela.

I searched Hotels.com for Casa di Violetta but couldn’t find it.

I looked on Google, found the number, and called. They had several rooms available, so I immediately booked one.

Then I threw everything into my suitcase and zipped it.

When I checked my purse to make sure I had everything, I hid most of the cash deep at the bottom, then wondered how much it would cost to get to Gela.

I checked the distance on Google Maps –

ONE HOUR AND TWENTY MINUTES?!

That’s going to be an expensive cab ride!

I stashed 500 euros within easy reach at the top of my purse, just in case, and ran for the elevator.

I was going to see Valentino!

45

Valentino

We were meeting Rocco in a town called Gela, another small beach resort on the southern coast of Sicily.

Gela was a lot farther west than Pozzallo, which meant it was closer to Don Vicari’s compound. Paolo got us there in only an hour and a half.

We found Rocco and his boys in another café, sitting outside in their tracksuits.

“Well, well, well,” Rocco said as I walked up with Paolo. “Look who’s here – Mr. Bleedin’ Heart.”

I didn’t say anything. I just stood there grimly.

Rocco stayed in his chair. He knew better than to stand up next to me and look like a school kid.

“Am I gonna have any fuckin’ trouble out of you today?” he snapped.

“No.”

“No, sir,” he corrected me.

All his rent-a-thugs snickered.

“Don’t push it,” I warned him.

He glared at me, then broke out into a smirk. “The only reason I’m puttin’ up with your sorry ass is because Pop said I had to. But you so much as step out of line or give me any lip, I swear…”

He trailed off to imply a threat. It wasn’t very scary.

I wanted to say, You swear what, exactly? You’ll send me back home to Daddy because you’re too much of a pussy to handle it yourself?

Instead, I replied, “I won’t say anything.”

“Good. But just so I don’t have to listen to your fucking whining, today we’re starting with the scum of the earth. Does that meet your approval?” he asked mockingly.

“Fine.”

“Good. Let’s roll.”

Paolo moved to follow the group as they all moved into the street –

“No,” Rocco snapped. “You’re not part of my crew. You stay here.”

Paolo watched forlornly as I walked away with Rocco and his gang.

Don’t be in a hurry to be a gangster, I wanted to say to him.

Someday, you might just get your wish.

God help you if you do.

We hit the back alleys of Gela, looking for the guys who sold drugs.

Most of them coughed up immediately, producing fatter stacks of bills than the shopkeepers from the day before.

A couple of guys weren’t exactly flush with cash, though.

One pleaded for an extension; Rocco punched him in the stomach so hard the guy crumpled to the ground. Rocco told him to have the money (plus a 50% late fee) in five days, or Rocco would break both his thumbs.

The other guy tried to run for it when he saw Rocco down the block.

Big mistake.

Three of Rocco’s thugs took off at a run.

I guess those tracksuits were good for something.

Three minutes later, Rocco got a phone call on his cell.

“You get him? Good. Where are you? Alright – see you in a few minutes.”

We walked until we found an alley where the three thugs had the drug dealer pinned up against the wall.

His clothes were so-so – it looked like he shopped at the same Armani Exchange as Rocco’s dipshits – but his eyes were rimmed with red, and he kept sniffing like he had a cold.

Classic case:

An idiot who got high on his own supply.

Actually, on his boss’s supply, which was his really big mistake. Besides running.

“Rocco, man, this is all a misunderstanding,” the guy pleaded. “I got your money – I just gotta go get it. See, I got these guys who all owe me a grand, but they’ve been giving me the runaround. I been on their ass all week about payin’ me back. If you go with me, you could, like, scare the shit out of them and get ‘em to cough up!”

Rocco nodded his head like he was listening sympathetically –

And then, out of nowhere, he punched the guy in the jaw.

Might have broken it from the way the guy howled.

A couple of people walking by the alleyway stopped to gawk.

“WHAT THE FUCK’RE YOU LOOKIN’ AT?!” Rocco roared at them.

They immediately disappeared.

Rocco turned back to the guy. “You owe me six grand, you stupid fuck.”

“No – no, it’s only three,” the guy protested.

Although with his broken jaw, it sounded more like, No, ih on-ee hree.

“It was three grand a month ago, before all the late fees. Now you owe six.”

“Rocco – ” the guy pleaded, tears in his eyes.

“Show this piece of shit what happens when he’s late on his bills,” Rocco said to his gang.

That was what they were waiting for –

Probably the main reason they worked for Rocco, the sick fucks.

They kicked the shit out of him.

The guy screamed and wailed and held up his hands to defend himself – but the thugs just broke his fingers as they stomped on him.

I usually had no sympathy for drug dealers, but Jesus. When they were through with him, the guy was a mangled, bloody mess on the filthy floor of the alleyway.

“Now you owe 7000,” Rocco said right before he spat on him. “Have my money in two weeks, bitch, or next time we put you in the ground.”

The guy just moaned as Rocco and his boys walked away, laughing and high-fiving.

“You wanna pay his fuckin’ debt, too, Mr. Bleedin’ Heart?” Rocco asked me.

“No, I’ll let him handle it,” I said, depressed as hell from what I’d just seen.

After the drug dealers came the pimps. We found them at no-tell motels, the kinds that rented by the hour. Sleazy-looking assholes with open shirts and gold chains around their necks. Predators and bottom feeders.

In the rooms behind them were the women, on breaks between customers.

Some were brash and funny as they catcalled Rocco’s men, offering them a discount.

But the vast majority were frightened and didn’t make eye contact.

Many of them were drug-addicted, with red-rimmed eyes and glassy stares. Some had needle tracks up and down their arms.

My stomach hurt every time I saw one of them sitting in the background, slowly rocking back and forth, staring into space.

I remembered how Dario had banned all pimps in our territory and ordered that all the women were to be offered 5000 euros if they would get out of prostitution and do something else.

At the time, we’d all thought he was crazy –

But now, standing outside those tawdry hotel rooms, I decided it was the best thing he’d done since he became Don.

The pimps were almost all on time with their payments. The ones who weren’t gave Rocco most of the money and promised the rest by the end of the day.

I looked past them at the lost souls under their control. I knew exactly where the pimps were going to get that money…

And I wanted to kill every last one of them for what they were doing to those women.

46

Caterina

Getting to Gela took an hour and a half.

The taxi driver let me charge my phone on a cord he had plugged into his cigarette lighter. Luckily, the cord was long enough to reach into the backseat – because I kept checking my phone every two minutes for more texts, which never came.

The driver was pretty happy; he should have been. The cab fare cost 130 euros, but he’d refused to take me for less than 300.

“No way in hell I’m going to get a passenger in Gela to drive back to Catania,” he said, so I’d given in.

He let me out in front of Casa di Violetta, which was a tiny hotel set back along an alley. I knew it was near the beach because I could hear seagulls cawing.

I checked into the hotel, which was old but cute. It had a large wooden counter the clerk stood behind… watercolors of the seaside framed on the walls… and an orange-and-white-tiled floor.

There was no elevator, unfortunately, so I had to lug my suitcase up three flights of stairs.

The room was old but cute, just like the hotel – but it was also roomy with a queen-size bed. The bathroom was dated but clean. There was a balcony, too, but unfortunately it looked out on the building across the alley.

I put my suitcase down…

Checked my appearance in the mirror over the dresser…

Then held my breath as I texted, I’m here.

After that, I waited.

Five minutes later, a text came from my mysterious contact.

I’ll text you where to meet us. I’m going to try to pull him away now.

I sat there staring into the mirror, trying to contain my excitement even though my heart was almost beating out of my chest.

I’m going to see him!

Not tomorrow, not next week –

Today!

I tried to push any bad thoughts out of my head, but they still kept cropping up.

What if he doesn’t want to see me?

What if the girl he’s going to marry is really beautiful and he’s fallen in love with her?

What if it was all just sex for him, and he never really cared about me at all?

All my worries kept gnawing at me, but none of them could compare with the single thought that kept flashing through my brain like a lighthouse in the darkness:

I’m going to get to see Valentino!

47

Valentino

After collecting from the pimps, Rocco said we were going to break for lunch. He and his buddies strolled towards a pizza joint, the kind that serves fast food to tourists.

He’d just collected over $10,000 in protection money, but he was still going to eat at a shitty restaurant.

Figures.

“I’m surprised, Movie Star,” Rocco sneered. “You didn’t try to pay for a single one of them.”

“I only pay for normal people, not pimps and drug dealers.”

“Oh, you’ll be happy then – we’re doing the shopkeepers after lunch,” he said, and all his thugs laughed.

Suddenly Paolo came trotting up. “Hey, Valentino, something important came up – I need you to come with me.”

I immediately saw a light at the end of the tunnel.

I turned to Rocco. “Look, I don’t want to be there for the shopkeepers, and you don’t want me there – so can we call it a day?”

Rocco gave me a smile of smug superiority. I’d just asked his permission in front of his minions, establishing that he was the boss.

But I could see the wheels turning.

I could guess what he was thinking:

Do I humiliate him and MAKE him watch me shake down the shopkeepers?

Or do I let him go now, avoid another scene, and keep it so everybody KNOWS I’m the boss?

Rocco chose the second option –

With a twist.

“Say ‘please,’” he sneered.

I balled my hands into fists and made a calculation of my own.

Do I refuse to give in and then have to hang out with this asswipe for the rest of the day –

Or do I say one little word and walk away?

“…please,” I muttered, but couldn’t bring myself to make it sound like I meant it.

Rocco narrowed his eyes like he was pissed I hadn’t completely bowed down to him…

But he must have decided it wasn’t worth the chance I’d make him look bad in front of his boys later on.

“Get outta here,” he said dismissively, then walked into the crappy pizza joint.

I turned towards Paolo and smiled. “That was great. Thanks.”

“Glad I could help, boss, but I was serious – I need you to come with me.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll know when we get there.” Paolo started down the street. “Come on!”

I frowned as I followed him.

Paolo was friendly and eager as always, but I didn’t like his mysterious vagueness.

The farther we went down Gela’s winding streets, the more paranoid I got.

What if he was taking me to get killed by some of Don Vicari’s men?

But –

Why?

It made no sense. I’d done nothing to deserve it.

Unless Uncle Fausto had cut a deal with Don Vicari…

But then why out here, where a dozen people walked by every minute?

Why not just wait to kill me until I was back at the compound?

I was sure Don Vicari had the local police in his pocket – but probably only as far as protection rackets went.

Even corrupt cops couldn’t overlook a murder in broad daylight with dozens of witnesses.

Paolo led me down a deserted side street – a cobblestone walkway with old, crumbling buildings looming over us.

That’s when I decided enough was enough.

I came to a halt and barked, “Paolo!”

He stopped and looked back at me in surprise. “What’s wrong, boss?”

“Where the fuck are you taking me?”

“Just over here!” he said, pointing down the winding street.

“I want to know where you’re taking me!” I demanded angrily.

“I wanted it to be a surprise, boss.”

“What to be a surprise?”

“She’s just over here.”

My mind immediately flashed to Isabella.

Had he smuggled the Don’s daughter out of the compound?

Was he insane?

“Who?!” I demanded –

And then Caterina stepped out from behind the corner.

48

Caterina

Iwas hiding in a doorway when I heard Valentino’s voice –

And my heart leapt into my throat.

“I want to know where you’re taking me!”

He sounded angry, which made me afraid.

Then I heard the voice I knew from the phone. “I wanted it to be a surprise, boss.”

“What to be a surprise?” Valentino demanded.

“She’s just over here.”

Just as Valentino shouted, “Who?!” I stepped out of the doorway and into the middle of the tiny street.

When Valentino looked over at me, his expression was complete shock.

I smiled at him tentatively –

But when he just stood there, my heart plummeted.

This was a mistake –

He didn’t want to see me –

I shouldn’t have come –

And then he broke into a sprint, grabbed me around the waist, and swept me off my feet.

He kissed me so hard he took my breath away.

All my fear disappeared –

And was replaced by overwhelming joy.

I looped my arms around his neck and held on with all my might as I passionately kissed him back.

Finally he pulled me back to my feet so he could look me in the eyes.

“What – how – ?” he sputtered, his eyes still round with surprise.

“Miss me?” I asked jokingly.

He grabbed me again and held me tight, his hand on the back of my head.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he whispered.

His voice nearly broke with emotion.

I started crying – happy crying this time – and he kissed me again.

“How did you find me?! How did you get here?!”

“Alessandra helped me.”

Valentino looked stunned. “She did?!”

The guy who’d brought Valentino coughed. “Ahem.”

I got a good look at him for the first time. He wore a black suit, black tie, and a white shirt, much like the foot soldiers who worked for Don Rosolini.

And he was grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

“I’d say you’ve got about two hours, boss. Then I gotta get you back home.”

Valentino stared at him. “You were in on all of this?!”

The guy laughed.

“I was.” Then he grew somber. “Seriously, though, Don Vicari can never find out about this. He’d kill me.”

“Not just you,” Valentino said grimly.

“I’ll call your lady – I got her cell phone number – but when we gotta go, we gotta go. You should, uh, probably take a shower before we leave, if you know what I mean,” the guy said with a wink. Then he pointed down the road. “She’s already got a room waiting for you.”

Valentino stared at me in shock. “You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

“How are you paying for all this?!”

“Alessandra gave me money.”

“Holy shit,” he muttered in amazement. “If Dario finds out – ”

“Let’s go,” I begged him, pulling at his arm.

“You should listen to your lady,” the guy in the suit said, then turned to go. “Two hours, boss!”

Then he walked back down the street, leaving me alone with Valentino.

“Well?” I prodded him with a big smile.

He kissed me once more, hard –

Then took my hand. “Let’s go!”

We ran all the way to Casa di Violetta.

49

Valentino

Iwas stunned.

Astonished.

Totally floored.

When I saw Caterina there in the street, my brain basically short-circuited.

This is impossible –

This is a dream!

And yet there she was.

And the fact that Paolo was in on it?!

Un-fucking-believable.

To do this behind Don Vicari’s back was literally insane.

But once Caterina told me that Alessandra was involved (which was insane of her in a much less dangerous way), I understood.

My sister-in-law must have paid Paolo a nice chunk of change to risk his life like that.

But after I realized all that, I didn’t give it a second thought.

I had Caterina here –

And I wanted her.

NEEDED her –

The same way a dying man needs water after wandering in the desert for three days.

Her cleavage in that low-cut blouse –

Her sweet taste when I kissed her –

The softness of her tits against my chest –

The feel of her incredible ass when I clutched it –

I had to have her.

I had to fuck her.

RIGHT NOW.

And from the hungry way she looked at me, I knew she wanted me just as bad.

We ran all the way down the street, laughing like two little kids.

Casa di Violetta was a tiny hotel – an ancient building that had been converted – with only a dozen or so rooms for rent.

There was no one in the lobby but the desk clerk. He eyed us suspiciously as we ran past him and up the stairs.

I was behind Cat all the way, grabbing her ass as we went. She giggled and batted my hand away playfully.

When we made it to the fourth floor, she was huffing and puffing a little from running – so I scooped her up in my arms.

She shrieked and laughed, then pointed down the hall. “The room’s that way.”

“You got the key?” I asked as I walked over to it.

“Yes, here it is – put me down and I’ll – ”

“No way.” I took the key from her and crouched down enough to insert it into the lock. “I haven’t gotten to touch you for this long – there’s no way I’m letting you go.”

I opened the door and carried her across the threshold like a bride.

As soon as we were inside the room, I set her down, grabbed the key, slammed the door, locked it –

And basically attacked her, kissing her frantically on her mouth and neck.

She moaned and arched her head back.

I buried my face in her cleavage, then nibbled my way up her neck and kissed her again.

Her hands fumbled at my belt.

I yanked up her skirt so I could pull down her panties –

Only to find she wasn’t wearing any.

Her pussy was already dripping wet.

FUCK!

I couldn’t wait to get her naked.

Not, I was looking forward to her being naked –

But, I HAD TO FUCK HER RIGHT NOW, NAKED OR NOT.

She already had my belt undone.

I finished the job by undoing my button and zipper.

My cock sprang out, rock-hard and ready to go.

I hiked up her skirt around her waist and lifted her with both my hands.

As she wrapped her legs around me, I positioned my head between her lips –

And eased her down on my cock.

“OHHHHH,” she moaned loudly.

“Oh fuck,” I groaned.

She was so wet, I was all the way inside her within two seconds.

I slammed her back against the wall so I could pump my hips and thrust inside her as deep as I could.

“OH VAL!” she cried out, her head on my shoulder.

My face was buried in her hair, and I inhaled deeply.

That smell – that ‘Caterina’ scent that was unique to her – was like a drug.

It made me so hard my cock ached, and I thrust even faster.

“OH GOD, VAL!” she cried out, her fingernails clawing at my back.

I clutched the softness of her ass in my hands, kneading her flesh with my fingertips –

“OH – OH – OH MY GOD, VAL – AAAAAH!” she screamed as she came.

If it hadn’t been so long since I’d been inside her, I might have been able to control myself.

But the intoxicating caress of her pussy –

The scent of her hair –

The sound of her screaming –

It pushed me over the edge.

“OH CAT – FUCK!” I bellowed.

I came so hard I felt it from the top of my head to my toes.

My coming got her even more turned on, because she screamed even louder and raked her fingernails down my back.

Finally, both of our orgasms died away, and we were left holding on to each other.

I pulled back so I could look at her.

When she smiled at me, she looked happier than I’d ever seen her.

“I missed you so much,” I murmured.

She laughed. “I missed you, too.”

And then we kissed – soft and slow, with my hard cock still deep inside her.

50

Caterina

Val took my breath away the way he fucked me against the wall – all throbbing, overwhelming passion.

I was so turned on, and wanted him so badly, that I came almost immediately –

And so did he.

It was incredible…

But as he lifted me off his cock and set me back on the floor, I was a little sad it was over so quickly.

I could feel his cum sliding down the inside of my thigh, and it turned me on all over again. I wanted him to fill me up with even more of it.

He must have seen something in my expression because he asked, “What’s wrong?”

I smiled. “I’m greedy. I never wanted to stop.”

“Good, because we’ve got about another hour and fifty minutes to go.”

I frowned. “But you just came.”

He laughed. “Do you see it going down?”

I looked down and gasped.

It was true – he was still hard as ever. The only difference was that his entire shaft was slick with my wetness.

I moaned and reached down to stroke it softly, to feel his skin slippery and hot under my fingers.

His cock spasmed at my touch, and a tiny bead of white cum welled up from his slit.

I wanted to lean down and suck it so bad.

“This time, we can take things slower,” he said in a husky voice as he unbuttoned his shirt and cast it to the ground.

I just stared at him and felt my pussy getting tingly and hot all over again. I’d almost forgotten how perfect his body was.

His broad shoulders…

His massive pecs…

His washboard stomach…

His huge biceps and muscular forearms…

The perfect amount of dark chest hair against his tan skin.

While I stroked his wet cock with my right hand, I ran my left hand over his chest, luxuriating in the feel of his warm skin.

He grinned as he shucked off his shoes, pulled his boxers and pants completely off, and removed his socks.

He stood in front of me naked, like Michelangelo’s David come to life – just with bronzed skin.

And a much larger and very hard cock.

He kissed me softly as he undressed me.

Once I was naked, I suddenly felt very shy.

I was standing there with a Greek god – the most perfect man I had ever seen, in real life or on the internet –

And I was just…

Me.

Not thin…

Twenty (okay, maybe thirty…something) pounds heavier than I wanted to be…

Nowhere near an Instagram model or a Victoria’s Secret Angel.

But the way he looked at me…

The hunger on his face as he stared at my breasts…

The look of awe as he gazed at my body…

He made me feel like a goddess.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the bed…

Flung back the comforter…

And picked me up and threw me on the mattress.

I shrieked and giggled, then held my breath as he prowled up my body like a voracious jungle cat, kissing my thighs and belly.

He finally got to my breasts, which spread to each side of my body.

Not my favorite thing about them. I wished they were way more perky –

But the way he cupped one in his huge hand and brought my hard nipple up to his mouth, then began to suck –

I forgot all about my insecurities and just moaned in pleasure.

Then he braced himself on his elbows and used both hands to smoosh my breasts together so he could go back and forth from one nipple to the other, licking, sucking, pulling at them with his lips.

I groaned and reached down for his cock. I wanted it inside me so badly!

He chuckled – he knew what I was after! – and softly kissed his way up my neck until his face was right above mine.

His beautiful eyes stared into mine, and I could feel the tip of his cock right between my lips.

I squirmed, shifting my hips to get him inside me –

But he pulled back so it was just out of reach.

“You tease,” I scolded him.

He grinned, then slowly eased inside me, just enough that I could feel his thick, swollen head.

I gasped –

And then he pulled out.

“AH!” I exclaimed in exasperation. “PUT IT IN!”

He chuckled, then took my face tenderly in his hands. “Look me in the eyes.”

I did what he asked.

As he gazed at me tenderly…

He slowly eased inside me.

“OhhhhHHH,” I groaned, struggling to keep my eyes open and focused on his.

He was so big…

And so thick…

That he filled me up completely.

And he kept going… and going… and going…

Until he was all the way inside me.

We hadn’t had sex in three days, and he was so huge that it bordered on hurting.

But it hurt so GOOD.

I groaned as he rocked back and forth inside me, gazing deep into my eyes…

And then he leaned down and started whispering in my ear.

“Babe…

“I missed you so much…

“Your pussy…

“Your gorgeous tits…

“Your perfect body…

“Your beautiful eyes…

“The way you look when you come…

“The sounds you make when you come…

“All I could think about was you…

“Fucking you…

“Making you come over and over…

“Being inside you is heaven…

“How soft you are…

“How wet you are…

“How good your pussy feels squeezing my cock…

“You’re the best, Cat…

“I want you so much…”

I loved it.

I loved the dirty talk…

Although I ached to hear him say three little words more.

He didn’t…

But it was enough just having him inside me, filling me up, rocking inside me, whispering in my ear.

I moaned and clutched at his back with my fingers…

Feeling his weight on me, heavy and sexy, as he moved between my legs.

When I came, it was a gentle, rolling orgasm that swelled like a soft wave on a lake.

Then, as he continued to whisper in my ear, I came again…

Another overlapping wave of pleasure…

Until I was coming every thirty seconds, one after another, gentle waves that made me go higher and higher…

Completely unlike the other orgasms I’d had…

Soft as silk…

Gentle as a caress…

One after another, lifting me higher and higher…

And I just moaned and moaned.

After nearly ten minutes of that, he whispered, “I want you to be on top.”

Even though I was having a fantastic time, I nodded. “Okay.”

He rolled over on his back with his cock still inside me, pulling me on top of him as effortlessly as if I was a pillow.

I loved the way he could just toss me around like I was a doll and move me like I weighed nothing.

Now that I was on top of him, his cock was hitting deep inside me in a completely different place, and I felt completely new sensations.

I moaned louder as I grinded my hips…

Feeling the delicious girth of his thick base…

And the head of his cock stroking an intensely pleasurable spot deep inside me.

Not only that, but my breasts were hanging heavy and full in his face – and he played with them, cupping them, lifting their weight in his palms, groaning as he sucked hungrily on my nipples.

One of his hands reached down behind me, and I felt him cup my ass cheek hard –

And then his fingertips touched the back of my pussy and stroked me there as his thick cock filled me up completely.

Those gentle waves from earlier were replaced by a completely different feeling.

A building sense of urgency –

Getting bigger and bigger by the second –

Something deeper and more powerful about to crash through me.

Suddenly he reached his other hand down to my ass and lifted me a couple inches up as he pulled back his hips –

And drove himself HARD and FAST inside me, over and over, slamming inside me as deep as he could go.

OH FUCK!

He was SO deep –

And SO thick –

And the head of his cock kept hitting that incredible spot deep inside me, faster and harder, over and over –

Our bodies slapping wetly against each other, fwop fwop fwop fwop –

My tits swinging in his face, brushing against his skin, as he grunted with the effort of not losing control.

When I came, it was a tidal wave crashing into me, through every inch of my body, deep inside my pussy and radiating out to the top of my head and the tips of my fingers and the soles of my feet.

“OHHHHH MYYYYY GOD!” I screamed as I came harder than I’d ever imagined possible.

It was too much for Valentino.

“CAT – OH GOD, CAT!”

I felt him explode inside me –

My second-favorite feeling in the world, right after me coming –

And his cock pulsed even bigger inside me, stretching me out just the tiniest bit more –

As hot cum spurted deep inside me with such pressure that I could feel it hitting the deepest parts of my pussy.

Which made me just come even harder.

I screamed so loud I went hoarse as he continued to fuck me –

Until he gradually slowed down and eventually stopped.

I collapsed on top of him, glistening with sweat, exhausted from the contractions that still pulsed inside me…

Once every five seconds… then ten seconds… stretching out longer and longer, until I was left in a place of drowsy pleasure, sweet and warm and safe.

He stroked my hair with his hand as I lay there on top of him, his cock still inside me.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

Again, I would’ve preferred to hear another three little words…

But those three words were enough for now.

51

Valentino

After we both came the second time, Cat snuggled up next to me on the bed.

“That was fucking incredible,” I said.

“So incredible,” she murmured, her eyes closed.

“It’s funny, though.”

“What’s funny?” she asked sleepily.

“You usually wear that perfume I like.”

“Your driver told me not to. So you wouldn’t smell like me when you went back home.”

Smart.

Speaking of Paolo –

I looked over at the clock radio on the bedside table (and was immediately jealous that it was a clock radio, not a fucking brass alarm clock).

We had an hour and fifteen minutes to go.

I hated this new life of being at the beck and call of others. Running around whenever they ordered me to. Feeling like I had to punch a clock.

Even though I’d had to do whatever Dario said, I had a shit-ton more freedom back home.

I thought of Niccolo again angrily. It had all started with him – his fucking plan to marry me off –

And yet someone else had gone around him.

“You said Alessandra helped you?” I asked Cat.

“Mm-hm,” she murmured, still blissed out from the sex.

But I had questions, and very little time to get the answers.

“How?”

“She asked her grandmother for help.”

Holy shit.

Her grandmother – who Alessandra didn’t even know about just a few months ago – was part of the Cosa Nostra family that ran Genoa. The Oldanis.

If she was helping Alessandra go around Dario’s orders –

That was crazy.

If I did that, I might get thrown out of the family for betrayal.

If one of our foot soldiers did it, they would be executed.

I doubted Dario would do either to Alessandra – he definitely wouldn’t kill her –

But other mafia dons would have, no question.

Don Vicari wouldn’t have hesitated.

However, divorce was probably on the table. If Dario and Alessandra stayed married, it would be the end of him ever trusting her again.

In addition, Signora Oldani was risking a war with our family by interfering.

I was pretty sure Dario wouldn’t go that far…

But Niccolo might.

After all, he was the one being humiliated without knowing it.

Savage glee bubbled up inside me.

Fucker!

Too bad I couldn’t ever taunt him about it since it would endanger Alessandra.

“But how did Alessandra’s grandmother get in touch with Paolo?” I asked.

“That’s the guy’s name?” Cat asked sleepily. “Paolo?”

“Yeah.”

Cat shrugged, her eyes still closed. “Alessandra just said her grandmother knew people in different families.”

“And Signora Oldani paid Paolo?”

“I think Alessandra did.”

My eyes opened wide. “How much?”

“Mm-um-know,” Cat mumbled. I don’t know.

Shit…

Paolo was risking a lot doing this.

If Don Vicari found out, he’d kill him.

And, to be honest, Paolo would deserve it.

Any servant who would sell out his don, no matter for how much, was a traitor.

Which meant I couldn’t trust Paolo, either…

Because if he’d sell out Don Vicari, he’d sell me out, too – in a heartbeat.

Shit.

Things just got a whole lot more complicated.

“I wanted Alessandra to call you, but she said they would probably listen in on the call,” Cat murmured.

“She was right. Don Vicari took away my phone, and I’m sure he would have made me talk in front of him if I got on the phone.”

Cat lifted her head to look at me. “Really?”

“Really. Did Paolo tell you anything else? Anything odd?”

“No – other than he didn’t want me to know his name.” Cat frowned. “Why are you asking me all these questions? Is something wrong?”

I didn’t want to worry her, so I told a little white lie.

“No – I was just curious. Don Vicari is probably the most secretive guy in the – ”

I paused. I didn’t want to say Cosa Nostra.

“ – that I know, so it was pretty incredible that you found me.”

Cat laid her head back down on my chest.

She was silent for a few seconds. I figured she was anxious because she knew I’d been about to say Cosa Nostra –

But that wasn’t it at all.

“What’s she like?” she asked quietly.

“Who?”

Cat lifted her head and gave me a pissed-off look. “The girl you’re supposed to marry.”

Oh.

Yeah.

I chuckled. “I’d completely forgotten about her, to be honest.”

Cat glared at me playfully. “Good. You better not have been thinking about her while we were having sex.”

I laughed even harder. “If I did, I think I’d lose my erection.”

“Why? Is she ugly?”

“No – no, she’s fine. She’s just not my type.”

“What is she?”

“A bookworm. And thin as a rail.”

Cat looked hurt. I knew she was sensitive about her weight – which was ridiculous to me. She should’ve known by now I couldn’t get enough of her body exactly the way it was.

“No boobs, no ass, no nothin’,” I added.

Cat looked a little less hurt, but now she was annoyed. “So that’s all that matters? Boobs and ass?”

I suppressed a smile and grabbed her chin with my thumb and forefinger. “Nope. Not by a long shot.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So… what’s your type, then?”

“Beautiful face… gorgeous eyes… a good heart… loyal… the kind of girl who would come halfway across Italy to find me…”

“All the way across the world if she needed to,” Cat said softly.

I smiled. “All the way across the world if she needed to. And I want somebody who can cook… who fixes the best pappardelle al cinghiale I’ve ever had.”

It was no joke – Cat made the best pasta with wild boar sauce I’d ever tasted, even in the fanciest restaurants in Italy.

“And zucotto,” she said with a smile, naming a sweet dessert cake she was amazing at.

“And zucotto.”

“And bistecca alla Fiorentina… and ribollita… and arista,” she said, rattling off some of my favorite dishes.

“All of it,” I agreed.

“Anything else?” she purred.

I made a face like I was thinking. “Huge tits and a spectacular ass.”

She slapped my chest, but she was grinning now.

“And the best sex I’ve ever had.”

She looked at me with a sweet smile. “…really?”

“You had to ask? Seriously?”

“That’s not a ‘yes,’” she said, playing at being annoyed.

“Yes – yes – a thousand times yes,” I said, and kissed her.

She kissed me back, then laid her head down on my chest.

She was quiet again for a few seconds before she spoke again.

“…are you really going to marry her?” she asked quietly.

Hearing the pain in her voice made my heart ache for her –

For both of us.

“I don’t want to,” I said.

“But you’re going to,” she whispered without looking at me.

“Dario ordered me to.” I hated myself for doing it, but I started listing off all the reasons Niccolo had given. “We need allies to fight my uncle. Massimo and Lars could be dead… wait, have you heard anything?”

She shook her head. “No.”

I exhaled. “Then there’s still hope.”

There was a long pause…

And then she whispered, “I don’t want you to marry her.”

“If there were any way I could get out of it, babe, I would.”

She didn’t say anything.

I put my fingers under her chin and forced her to look at me. “We don’t have much time left, babe, and I want us to spend it being happy… with each other.”

She looked at me blankly for a few seconds…

Then smiled sadly, leaned forward, and kissed me.

52

Caterina

Ididn’t tell Valentino that I’d overheard Alessandra’s conversation with Don Rosolini…

About how Val had said he didn’t want to marry me.

As much as it hurt me to know he’d said it…

And that he wasn’t going to own up to it…

I still kept quiet.

Probably because I didn’t want to ruin the moment.

Papa had always lectured me, Don’t make waves.

When I made waves with my parents, I’d lost them.

I couldn’t bear to lose Valentino…

So I said nothing.

Plus, Alessandra had gone to gigantic lengths for me to see him again. I didn’t want to spoil it.

And Val was so happy to see me. I’d never seen him so happy!

Until I started talking about the arranged marriage, I had been happy, too.

Not only that, but I finally had him in my arms.

Why waste what little time I had on talking about my feelings, when I might never have the chance to be with him again?

Plus…

And I’m not proud of this…

But Val was like a drug to me.

And I was addicted.

His cock could take me to levels of pleasure I’d never experienced with anyone else…

Places I hadn’t even thought possible until I’d been with him.

And his kisses were better than being drunk.

So I put all the other stuff out of my mind…

Stuffed it down in the darkness.

Reminded myself that if this was the last time I ever got to have sex with him, I wouldn’t want to waste it on something I couldn’t change.

So I kissed him…

And he kissed me back…

And we fucked again.

But this time, I think I held a little piece of me back…

Even though I wouldn’t admit it.

53

Valentino

We had sex again – and while it was incredible, I could tell something was off with Cat.

Like she wasn’t 100% into it.

I mean, she came like she normally did –

And she screamed my name like she normally did –

But something in her seemed sadder. Not quite all there.

I didn’t say anything, though.

We had this limited time together – why ruin it?

I’d dodged a bullet talking about the arranged marriage.

Part of me thought she wouldn’t want to have sex again.

But we did –

And it was great.

However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something she was holding back.

54

We’d just finished and were lying there all sweaty and spent when her phone suddenly rang.

“Oh shit, that’s him!” Cat exclaimed as she jumped up to answer the phone.

I groaned inwardly.

Playtime was over.

Back to the real fuckin’ world.

“Hello? Um… no, not yet… okay…” Cat looked at me apologetically as she handed me the phone. “He says he wants to talk to you.”

I took it from her. “Yeah?”

“I told you to be ready to go in two hours,” Paolo said, half nervously, half pissed.

I clenched my jaw.

I already had Don Vicari and Rocco telling me to Dance, little monkey –

I didn’t need a fuckin’ driver chewing me out, too.

Especially one who had already turned traitor on his boss.

“I’ll jump in the shower and be ready in five minutes,” I said coldly.

“Alright, well, hurry it up.”

“Make that ten,” I snarled.

“Look, man – if the Don gets suspicious, it’s BOTH of our dicks on the chopping board.”

I noticed he wasn’t calling me boss anymore.

Now it was Look, man.

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled. “Just wait in the lobby.”

“I’ll be outside in the car,” he said

His refusal to follow my orders irked me even more.

“What about Caterina?”

“She can stay in the hotel tonight.”

“Am I going to see her again?”

I was nervous that this was the last time, but it came out as irritation with Paolo.

“When I find out where you’re working tomorrow with Rocco, I’ll tell her. She can meet you there.”

Sweet relief flooded through me.

But now there was another problem.

“How am I supposed to get away from Rocco?” I asked.

“That’s on YOU, man. I can only tell her what town you’ll be in.”

I didn’t like his tone of voice – It’s YOUR problem, not MINE – but I brushed that aside as I tried to figure out a solution.

“See you outside in five minutes,” Paolo ordered.

“Yeah, sure,” I said dismissively, then hung up.

“What’s going on?” Cat whimpered.

I stood up. “The good news is I get to see you again.”

The look on her face was pure joy. She rushed into my arms and hugged me tight.

“The bad news is, I need to figure out how to get away from the asshole I work with every day.”

Cat frowned. “What asshole?”

“Don Vicari’s son, Rocco. I have to follow him around and do stupid bullshit.” I thought for a second, then asked, “Did Alessandra give you any cash?”

“Oh, yes,” Cat said happily as she ran for her purse. “So did Don Rosolini and Niccolo.”

“…what?!”

I couldn’t have heard that last part correctly.

“They stopped me before I left. Niccolo searched my purse and found the money Alessandra gave me. She told them it was so I could start over somewhere else. Don Rosolini not only gave me a lot more, he ordered Niccolo to give me what was in his wallet.”

“WHAT?!” I shouted, then burst out laughing. “Niccolo had to give you money because Dario ordered him to?!”

“Yes,” Cat said, beaming.

“I’m sure that stuck in his craw,” I chuckled.

I loved the idea of Dario overruling Nic and ordering him around.

Good.

FUCK him.

“All together, they gave me a lot,” Cat said as she dumped out her purse’s contents on the bed.

I figured she was just impressed because it was more money than she’d ever seen at one time, but I didn’t have particularly high hopes –

Until I saw the giant wads of cash that fell out on the sheets.

Holy SHIT!

I grabbed the rubber-banded rolls of bills and looked at them.

One was 20s and 50s – probably 10,000 euros –

And the other was 100-euro bills. Possibly 20 grand.

Plus there was a lot of loose money, too. Maybe another couple of grand.

All told, about 35,000 euros.

Daaaaaaamn!

I mean, I’d seen entire briefcases full of money – millions in single transactions –

But I hadn’t been expecting Cat to have 35 large.

“Can I have 10,000?” I asked. “I’ll pay it back later.”

“You’re not going to spend it on her, are you?” she asked bitterly.

“No,” I said in a pissed-off voice, “I’m going to bribe her brother to leave me alone so I can see you.”

“…oh,” Cat murmured, and immediately looked ashamed. “I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m jealous she gets to be around you, and I don’t.”

My heart immediately softened, and I took her in my arms. “You don’t have to worry about her, babe. She can’t hold a candle to you.”

“Yeah, but… you’re marrying her,” Caterina said. She looked like she was on the verge of crying.

“But you’re the one I want,” I whispered. “The only one I’ll ever want.”

I kissed her long, slow, and sweet.

I was starting to get hard…

And then Cat felt my cock against her belly, moaned, and put her hand on it.

Now I was no longer starting to get hard; I WAS hard.

I was just about to throw her down on the bed again –

When her phone rang.

Cat looked at the number and said worriedly, “It’s him – Paolo.”

“Mother fucker,” I snarled as I snatched up the phone and answered it. “What?”

“It’s been five minutes,” he bitched.

“See you in 20,” I snarled, then hung up.

Cat looked at me in shock. “I thought you had to go!”

“Not yet, I don’t,” I said as I pushed her down on the bed.

She giggled and moaned –

Opened her legs to me –

And used her hand to guide my cock inside her.

55

After giving Cat a couple of orgasms, I came inside her.

Then I pulled her into the bathroom where we showered together – fast, but enough to get the scent of sex off me.

I dressed quickly. She was still naked and wrapped in a towel when I stuffed the ten grand in my pocket and kissed her.

“See you tomorrow,” I said with a grin.

She giggled as I pulled off her towel –

Grabbed her ass as I kissed her once, twice, three times –

And then gave her a final, tender kiss before I jogged down the hall towards the stairs.

I looked back to see her waving at me, her naked body hidden behind the half-closed door – but I could see her beaming face.

I grinned and blew her a kiss before I disappeared down the stairwell.

When I walked out of the hotel, Paolo’s car was sitting along the curb.

I got in the back instead of the front passenger seat like I normally did.

When he looked at me in the rearview mirror, he was steaming.

“I told you to be down here half an hour ago,” he seethed.

“We need to have a fuckin’ talk,” I said coldly.

“Yeah, you’re goddamn right we – ”

“Which means I’m gonna talk, and you’re gonna shut the fuck up and listen.”

I saw the resentment and hatred in his eyes, but I also saw fear. He was used to being ordered around by guys above him, and he fell into line pretty quickly.

“I appreciate you connecting me with Caterina,” I said. “I do, I really do. You’re taking an incredible risk.”

“Damn straight,” he muttered.

“But I’m pretty fucking sure you didn’t do it out of the goodness of your heart.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I’m guessing it was my sister-in-law who paid you.” When he didn’t answer again, I snapped, “This is the part where you tell me where the money came from.”

“…some bank in Genoa,” he grumbled.

So… Alessandra’s grandmother.

“How much?”

“Not enough,” he snapped.

“How MUCH?”

“…fifty grand,” he muttered.

Not much money to risk your life over, I thought.

But I didn’t tell him that.

“Okay, so you’re getting a nice chunk of change,” I said. “But just because you chose to do it does not mean you get to order me around. I’m not your buddy. I sure as hell don’t answer to you. In the future, if you want me to do something, you ask me. Politely. You don’t tell me what to do. Got it?”

“If Don Vicari finds out – ”

“How’s he gonna find out unless you tell him?”

“If we’re late – ”

“He’s not gonna give a shit if we’re 30 minutes late.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You don’t know anything about high-level guys. He’s thinking about money in and money out, who he’s got to kill – he doesn’t give a shit about me being half an hour late.”

I hoped I was right about that…

But there was no way I was going to admit doubt and play into Paolo’s paranoia.

“Fine,” Paolo grumbled, “but – ”

“No ‘buts.’ You’re not the boss here. I am. You’re getting paid to help me see Caterina, and I appreciate that, but remember who works for who.”

“I don’t work for you,” Paolo shot back. “I work for the Don.”

And you also betrayed him, I thought, but didn’t say it.

Instead I snarled, “And I’m marrying the Don’s daughter in a couple of weeks, so it would probably be a smart play to stay on my good side, wouldn’t you think?”

Paolo glared at me in the rearview mirror, but this time he stayed quiet.

“Let’s go home,” I said, then added sarcastically, “So we’re not thirty-five minutes late.”

Paolo put the car into gear, and we started off down the road.

He didn’t say a single word to me all the way back to Don Vicari’s.

I could live with that.

It just gave me more time to daydream about Cat…

Fucking her today…

And all the things I was going to do to her tomorrow.

56

That night, I talked to Isabella again outside the dining room.

“Did you have a good day?” she asked.

“A great day.”

Although it had nothing to do with Rocco or Don Vicari, that was for sure.

Isabella gave me a wistful smile. “I envy you.”

“Why? You have a bad day?”

“No… I read a lot, which was nice. And I took a walk in the garden with Ludavica.”

That sounded like a pretty fucking boring day to me, though I didn’t say it out loud.

And by Isabella’s standards, it was probably just fine.

“So what’s the problem?”

“Well… it’s just that I have to stay here all the time. And you get to go all over Sicily.”

“Yeah, but I’m working with Rocco,” I said, though it was only half true. I didn’t exactly work with him much today.

“But you’re still visiting places I’ve only heard about… and I’ve lived here my entire life.”

I felt a little guilty.

As restricted as my life was, it was a hell of a lot freer than hers.

And…

If I’m going to be honest…

I felt guilty that I was supposed to be marrying her in less than two weeks.

And while she was here, trapped in a prison…

I was free, out there having sex with Cat.

I didn’t want to marry Isabella…

But I definitely felt sorry for her.

I promised myself that when I had the opportunity, I would make sure she got to experience the outside world she so badly wanted to see.

Dinner was uneventful.

The only thing Don Vicari said to me the whole time was, “You learning a lot from Rocco?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, definitely.”

Mostly what a stupid prick he is.

But I kept that part to myself.

57

Ithought about Cat all evening.

She was the last thing on my mind when I fell asleep –

And the first thing I thought about when I woke up.

With morning wood, I might add.

I didn’t do anything about it, though.

I was planning on saving all my energy for her.

I took the ten grand Cat had given me, stuffed it in my pocket, and went down to breakfast.

Paolo didn’t show up until I was finished.

When he did, he looked pissed off.

Too bad.

“Where’re we going today?” I asked.

“Ragusa,” he said grumpily.

“How far away is that?”

“Two and a half hours.”

Good to know.

When we got to the car, I got in the backseat and demanded Paolo’s phone.

“Why?” he asked angrily.

“Because I need to tell Cat where we’re going.”

He was sullen as he gave me his phone… but he still gave it to me.

When I called, Cat answered sleepily – because it was still 6 o’clock in the fucking morning.

She also sounded apprehensive – probably because she thought it was Paolo calling her.

“…hello?”

“Hey, babe.”

“Hey!” she said brightly, now fully awake. “What’re YOU doing calling me?”

“I wanted to hear your beautiful voice.”

“Awwww…”

I could practically hear her blushing over the phone.

“And I wanted to tell you where to meet me today. We’re going to Ragusa.”

“Ragusa?”

“Yeah. I won’t be there for another two and a half hours, and I’ve still got to deal with Rocco. I might not be able to get away early. But whether I do or not, go ahead and get us a really nice hotel room. Like, a great room. Then text the details to Paolo, and he can tell me where to meet you.”

“Okay!” There was a pause for a few seconds – then she said, “Google Maps says Ragusa’s only an hour away from me.”

“Good – go back to sleep if you can. Get some rest, because I’m going to give you a good workout later on.”

She giggled.

Paolo rolled his eyes in the rearview mirror, which annoyed me.

“Alright, babe, I gotta go. I got Paolo listening in, and I don’t want him hearing all the stuff I’m going to do to you later.”

She giggled again. “Alright… I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

I hung up and handed the phone back to Paolo.

Neither of us said a word to each other the rest of the way.

58

Ihad to admit, Ragusa was pretty fucking spectacular.

We came in across a 200-foot-tall bridge that stretched for nearly a mile. A whole other town was down in the valley below.

Ragusa was a medieval walled fortress that rose up out of the steep hillside. The lower part of the town was newer (as in, built in the last 300 years); we were headed for the older part at the top.

The entire way, our SUV had to weave through cobblestone streets that could barely fit two cars side-by-side.

The buildings looked like they were all built 800 years ago, and they marched up the hill in tiers, with steep steps connecting the different levels.

Paolo parked the SUV, pulling it up on the sidewalk. All the other cars did the same.

“We gotta walk from here,” he announced.

We strolled up a couple of side streets until we reached a gigantic square – although it was more like an uneven rectangle that sloped 600 feet up to a big-ass church.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“The Duomo di San Giorgio Ragusa.”

It was massive – at least three stories tall, with ornate columns and arches all over the yellow stone exterior. Since it sat at the top of the hill, on one of the highest points in town, the church towered over everything else.

The presence of such an overwhelming symbol of religion didn’t bother Rocco, though. He sat with his boys outside a café, acting like assholes – talking too loud and laughing even louder.

“Hold on,” I said to Paolo. “Hang back until I know what’s going to happen.”

Paolo didn’t say anything, but he waited about 30 feet away as I walked over to Rocco.

“Oh, look – it’s Mr. Fuckin’ Movie Star,” Rocco sneered.

“Can I talk to you a second in private?” I asked.

“Whatever you wanna say to me, you can say in front of my boys. Unless you’re embarrassed you’re on your period.”

All the guys howled with laughter.

I just looked at Rocco coldly. “Like I said – in private.”

“And I said, you can say it in front of my – ”

“It’s about your father.”

Fear flashed across Rocco’s face.

It didn’t last – he quickly went back to his same old bluster – but he stood up and snarled, “Well why didn’t you fuckin’ say so? Hold down the fort, boys.”

I led him over to a side street, far enough away that his friends couldn’t hear us. A few tourists drifted past us from shop to shop, but it was early enough in the morning that there weren’t that many people around.

“What’d Pop say?” Rocco asked in a quiet voice.

“Nothing. I just wanted to get you away from your men.”

Now anger twisted Rocco’s expression. This time, it didn’t disappear.

“What the fuck?! Why the fuck are you – ”

“You don’t want me here,” I interrupted. “And I don’t want to be here. So what do you say we come to an arrangement?”

He narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I don’t want to go around breaking drug dealers’ legs or harassing shopkeepers. So if your father asks, why don’t you pretend like I was here…”

I pulled out the wad of 10,000 euros.

“…and I’ll give you a little something for your trouble.”

Rocco looked at the money greedily and literally licked his lips.

That told me everything I needed to know.

All that money he collected every day? He didn’t keep much of it. The lion’s share went to his father, and a chunk of the rest went towards paying his men. He was probably lucky if he was clearing 10%.

Unfortunately, when I mentioned Don Vicari, his face went cold. “You want me to lie to my father?”

“A little white lie. Not to mention you’ll get me out of your hair.”

“And you think I’m gonna lie to my father for – what, a couple thousand?”

“Ten large.”

Rocco unconsciously licked his lips again.

He might have been a mafioso and the Don’s son, but he was probably on a fairly strict budget.

Whatever vices he was into – hookers, alcohol, cocaine, who knew – ten grand could buy him a good time.

But in the end, fear of his father won out.

“Fuck you,” he sneered. “I’ll let Pop know you tried to bribe me to get you out of work.”

I still hated Niccolo, but he’d taught me something else valuable over the years:

If your first offer gets turned down, find out what the other person truly desires. Because there’s always something.

“If you don’t want the money, then what do you want?”

Rocco paused for a second like he was afraid to name his price –

And then an ugly smirk curled across his face.

“I want to punch your fuckin’ lights out in front of my boys.”

Ah.

So that was it.

I’d humiliated him that first day by standing up to him.

I’d made him lose face.

His buddies probably didn’t look at him quite the same way.

They knew he wasn’t top dog anymore – that the new guy could fuck with him and get away with it.

And if I could, well…

Maybe they were starting to push back, too.

It was probably little things…

Like moving a little slower when Rocco ordered them around.

Maybe muttering under their breaths.

If he didn’t nip it in the bud, soon he’d have all sorts of disrespect flying in his face…

At least until he made an example out of somebody.

But Rocco struck me as the kind of guy who couldn’t make an example out of anybody.

Not unless they were weak and powerless.

So if he could punch out the guy who started it all…

That would solve all his problems, wouldn’t it?

Normally, I would have told him, Go fuck yourself.

No way I would have taken a fall.

No way I would allow myself to get humiliated by a fuckin’ loser.

…but.

If it meant being able to be with Cat…

If it meant being able to hear her come again…

Then I would swallow the bitter taste of bile that rose in my throat.

“You can punch me in the gut,” I said. “Once. I’ll sink to my knees, you scream some shit at me, and you’ll make your point.”

“No. I want to – ”

“You punch me in the gut once and tell me to hit the road, or I’ll just spend the entire day with you and your boys.” I ran my thumb along the edge of the bills with a soft frrrrrip sound. “And I’ll pay off anybody’s debts I want to until I run out of money.”

Rocco stared at me in shock – then outright hatred.

He knew I was offering him two choices:

Play it MY way…

Or I’ll fuck you over in front of your friends even worse.

“…alright,” he finally agreed. “One in the gut.”

“And tell me to get lost.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t go getting cute and try to hit me again, because I will get back up,” I warned, “and I will fucking put you down.”

“Okay, okay,” he said angrily.

“Good.”

I started to pocket the 10,000 euros –

“What’re you doing?” he barked. “I want the cash, too!”

I glared at him. He was pushing it.

But the money was nothing to me.

Cat was everything.

And if it helped seal the deal…

“You better keep your side of the bargain, or so help me God, I’m taking the money back by force,” I hissed as I handed it over.

“Okay, okay,” he said happily as he stuffed the money in his pocket. Then he stood there looking hesitant. “Um… how do we…?”

“You can’t run this fucking outfit!” I said angrily, loud enough for his buddies to hear me. “You can’t run SHIT!”

He stared at me like a deer in headlights.

“Hit me,” I whispered from between clenched teeth.

He finally reared back his arm and socked me in the stomach.

Two things.

One: he telegraphed his punch clear as day.

Using what Lars had taught me about hand-to-hand combat, I could have easily sidestepped him and broken his jaw before he knew what hit him.

But I just stood there and let him do it.

Two: his punch was weak as shit. Barely even hurt.

I had to act like hell to sell it –

But extra time with Cat was on the line, so I did what I had to.

I grunted loudly, doubled over, and sank down on one knee.

“Yeah – yeah, that’s what you get!” Rocco yelled at me like the worst actor in the world. Then he warmed up a little bit, letting his true feelings shine through. “The only reason I don’t beat the shit out of you is because you’re marrying my fuckin’ sister, you goddamn pussy – so get the fuck out of here and don’t let me see your face again!”

Then he turned and stomped back to the café.

Our little performance, however fake-looking to me, apparently convinced the Neanderthals.

They all stood up from their seats and watched in alarm, apparently wondering if they should jump in and stomp me in front of all the tourists.

“Hey boss,” one of them called to Rocco, “you want me to – ”

“No – fuck that piece of shit,” Rocco snarled as he stormed past his goons and headed down the street. “Leave him and let’s get to work!”

Every single guy immediately fell in behind Rocco, their respect for him fully restored.

He’d definitely made a good deal for himself.

But seeing as I was going to get Cat all to myself for the rest of the day, and every day –

And all I’d had to sacrifice was a little bit of my pride –

I figured I’d made a better deal.

I stood up and walked over to Paolo, who stood there smirking.

He had obviously figured out what was going on.

Paolo might have been a traitor, but he wasn’t dumb. I’d give him that.

“Well,” he said. “That was interesting.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, watching Rocco and his dipshits as they disappeared into their first shop a hundred feet away from us. “You hear from Cat yet?”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Paolo said. “And I think you’re gonna like the place she booked.”

59

Paolo drove us along a road at the bottom of Ragusa, outside the walls of the city.

On one side of the road were rocky cliffs and scrub brush; on the other, a 50-foot drop down into a gully full of bushes.

Just when I was about to ask what the hell kind of hotel Cat had booked, Paolo slowed down and parked alongside the road.

On the other side of the street, stone steps led up into overhanging trees. Above the trees, a sheer rock cliff rose 50 feet up to the wall surrounding Ragusa.

“Where’s the hotel?” I asked.

“It’s not the entire hotel – just one of their rooms,” Paolo explained, then pointed up the rock cliff. “The main hotel is up there.”

“What?!”

“Just go up those steps, boss.”

So we were back to Hey, boss.

Paolo checked his watch. “By the way, I’m asking you to be back down here in six hours.”

Maybe he’d learned his lesson.

“I’ll do my best,” I said, and I meant it.

I got out of the SUV, looked both ways, jogged across the street to the base of the steps, and started climbing.

The steps were steep and zigzagged back and forth.

After a couple of twists and turns, I reached a grassy patch with a patio and table –

And a frosted glass doorway set into a stucco wall built right into the cliffside.

Cat opened the door, grinning like a loon. “You made it!”

“What the hell is this place?!”

“You’ve got to see it to believe it. Come in!”

She held the door open –

And I walked into something like that looked like it was out of Lord of the Rings.

The hotel room was inside a cave with sloping walls and a low ceiling made of tan stone. The floors were white marble.

The ‘cave’ had tons of modern touches: a long dresser with a flatscreen TV on top of it…

Recessed lighting placed in hidden crags…

A huge king-size bed against the cave wall…

And a glass-enclosed shower at the rear of the cave. You could basically have a show while you lay in bed as your woman washed up.

Over on the left side of the room, there was a sunken bath that was carved into the floor. Steps led down into what looked like a three-foot-deep tub made of marble, just like the flooring. Over the tub was a metal faucet, and off to the side was a wooden bench stocked with towels.

“Holy shit,” I murmured.

I’d been to my fair share of luxurious hotel rooms, but they were basically all the same. Whether it was the Four Seasons, the Waldorf-Astoria, the Ritz-Carlton, or the St. Regis, they were variations on a theme: boxy, rectangular rooms.

This…

This was something else entirely.

Cat grinned happily. “Did I do good?”

I took her face in my hands.

“You did amazing, baby,” I said right before I kissed her.

60

Caterina

Icouldn’t believe my luck: the most luxurious room in Ragusa was available. And since nobody had stayed in it the night before, I was able to pay a little extra and get it at 10 AM.

When the driver brought me down from the city to the hotel room, I was apprehensive. From the outside, it didn’t look like any hotel I’d ever seen before, that was for sure.

But when I got inside, it was like a fairy tale.

I literally gasped when I saw it.

Like a magical cave where the princess hides away from the villain, waiting for her prince to find her.

And now my prince was here.

His look of shock and delight when he saw the room was priceless.

“Did I do good?” I asked happily, knowing I had.

He put his hands on both sides of my face and said, “You did amazing, baby.”

And then we kissed.

I melted right then and there.

I’d made up my mind when I walked into this room that I was going to enjoy every second of it. It was too beautiful a place to be unhappy in.

No thoughts about the world outside…

Or things Val might have said a week ago…

Or things that might happen later…

Every second I spent in the room was going to be about joy, and pleasure, and fun.

I swore to myself I would do it –

And the second he kissed me, I literally forgot about everything but him.

Well…

Him and the wine.

I pulled away when he started to undress me. “Wait – there’s champagne!”

He turned and followed me as I ran over to the table near the door.

I pulled out a chilled bottle from the bucket of ice. “Want a glass?”

“Absolutely. Here, let me open it.”

As I got two champagne flutes, he tore off the foil and popped the cork.

Once we each had a full glass, he lifted his in a toast. “To great sex with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever been with.”

I was flattered –

But also a little disappointed.

I wanted a little something more than a toast to ‘hot sex with a pretty chick.’

Although, I’ve got to admit…

When the hottest man you’ve ever seen says you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever been with…

That part was really nice.

But I wanted more…

So I did it myself.

“To us,” I said simply.

“To us,” Valentino agreed.

I might have been imagining it…

But he sounded almost wistful.

You promised only joy and pleasure and fun in here! I reminded myself.

We clinked glasses, then sipped a little as we stared into each other’s eyes.

While the champagne was excellent, it wasn’t what I really wanted.

“Alright, enough of that,” I said as I set down my glass. “Now on to the good stuff.”

61

Val leaned over to kiss me –

But I playfully dodged him and went over to the bathtub.

He watched me, confused –

Until I grabbed a couple of towels by the sunk-in tub and dropped them on the marble floor in front of him.

Then he was all smiles.

I knelt down and grinned up at him as I undid his belt and pulled down his pants.

He was only starting to get hard, but he was growing stiffer with every heartbeat.

Madonn, I loved seeing his cock when it was soft…

Because it was still really big. Much bigger than all of my previous boyfriends when they were at their hardest.

I loved how thick it was…

How heavy it looked when it swung back and forth…

And how soft and hot it felt in my hand.

It was also one of the few times it was easy to get him all the way in my mouth.

I immediately took all of him, opening my lips and sliding him along my tongue until his head hit the back of my throat.

I remember seeing this Facebook post with a 100-year-old drawing of a woman choking. There was somebody’s hand in her mouth, with the first two fingers crammed in all the way to the knuckles.

I guess the fingers were trying to dislodge something, but her eyes were kind of rolled back in her head like she was enjoying it.

The caption on the drawing was, Saving from choking.

Some girl had written beneath it in a comment, Save me some more! Same me some MORE!

I’m pretty sure she wasn’t talking about fingers in her mouth.

And right now, as Valentino’s cock expanded, filling up my mouth, I could feel the head of his cock pressing against my throat…

And all I could think was, Save me some more! Same me some MORE!

I moaned, my eyes rolling back in my head. “Mmmmmmmm…”

I loved the taste of him – salty and sweet.

I loved the smell of him – musky and masculine.

And I loved the feel of him.

Soft, hot skin against my tongue…

And his size getting so big I could barely handle him.

I started moving my head back and forth on his cock.

I cupped his balls, huge and heavy, in my right hand as I did it – playing with them, tickling them.

“Oh, fuck…” he groaned. “Oh, Cat…”

As his cock got harder, the angle changed, and I had to ‘stand up’ straighter (even though I was on my knees) to keep it in my mouth.

Eventually, it got fully erect –

And he was so long that I could no longer suck him while kneeling on the floor.

I let his cock pop out of my mouth and licked him from his balls to the tip of his head.

Then, because I knew he loved my blowjobs so much, I stood up and bent over so I could take him in my mouth again.

I didn’t love the angle…

But I loved what I got to put in my mouth.

However, he was so big at that point, it was difficult to deepthroat him –

So I concentrated on sucking his head and the first few inches of his cock.

I used my left hand to move up and down his wet shaft and my right to tickle his balls.

He groaned and put his hands on the back of my head.

He never forced me down on him – partly because he never had to.

I knew he wanted more, so I gave him more: bobbing up and down on his cock, taking him as deep as I could without gagging.

Then he surprised me.

He stopped me and pulled me to my feet so I was standing straight in front of him.

He looked like he was drunk, or hypnotized, or high.

He also looked hungry.

He immediately started unbuttoning my blouse as fast as he could. At the same time, he stepped out of his pants and underwear.

I quickly unbuttoned his shirt, too.

Off came my skirt –

Then both our shoes –

And when we were both completely naked, he kissed me as he gently nudged me back towards the bed.

I thought he would push me down on the mattress –

But instead, he picked me up under my armpits and threw me.

I screamed – half-surprised, half-delighted – as I landed on the bed.

I loved how strong he was, and that he could manhandle me so easily.

I stared up at him – a gorgeous Greek god with a massive, raging hard-on.

As I bit my lower lip seductively, I opened up my legs to him… for whatever he wanted to do to me.

He looked down at my pussy like a treat he wanted to devour.

And then… he did.

62

Valentino

Fuck, Cat was hot.

I loved watching her hit the bed – her tits wobbling and jiggling.

After she stopped laughing from surprise, she stared at my cock and got that look I craved: complete and utter worship.

Then she looked up at me and bit her lip, which turned me on even more…

And slowly parted her legs, inviting me in.

I gazed down at her shaved pussy.

It was so beautiful – her lips pink and soft, and so, so wet –

That I had to have a taste.

I leaned down onto the bed, hovered my mouth just a millimeter above her pussy –

And slowly, softly rubbed my lips against hers.

“Ohhhhhh,” she moaned as her legs twitched.

I kept brushing my mouth against her pussy until my lips were wet…

And then I started licking her.

I started down below, closer to her little pink asshole…

The tip of my tongue tickling her…

Then I licked up to her lips…

And slipped my tongue inside her.

I went as deep inside her as I could go, touching her in the hottest, wettest places I could reach.

“Ohhhhhh…” she sighed.

Then I came out, traced my way up to her clit…

And slowly began to lick it.

To circle it.

To suck it.

“OHHHHHH,” she groaned.

I did that for a few minutes, lapping at her, playing with her –

Then I shifted on the bed so I was lying perpendicular to her body.

I licked my pointer and middle finger, making sure they were completely wet.

Then, as I bent my mouth back down to her clit, I slowly slid my fingers inside her.

“OHHHHH,” she moaned again as I licked her clit the entire time.

Once I was all the way inside her, I began doing the ‘come hither’ motion – angling my fingers up and moving them like I was telling somebody to come closer.

I could feel the slightly raised surface of her g-spot.

I began rubbing it slow and soft…

Then faster and firmer…

All while I sucked and licked her clit.

I’d made Cat squirt a couple of times back in my family’s mansion, and she really enjoyed it –

But it created a mess, obviously. She hated getting the sheets soaked since we were the ones who had to change them afterwards.

If we didn’t, the other servants would find them, which she absolutely did not want to happen.

Of course, today we were in a hotel room…

And it would be somebody else’s job to change the sheets.

“OH, VAL – OH FUCK, OH VAL – OH MY GOD!” she cried out, thrashing her head back and forth.

I took that as a good sign and kept going –

Licking –

Sucking –

Rubbing –

“I’m going to come, I’m going to come!” she shrieked –

Which gave me just enough time to get my face out of the way.

But I kept rubbing her g-spot.

“OHHHHHHHHH!” she screamed.

Her entire body arched, her feet planted on the mattress, and her legs lifted her slightly up off the bed –

And hot liquid sprayed from her pussy, wetting my forearm, the sheets, and even the floor.

I stopped rubbing because I knew it was too much for her – too uncomfortable to keep going –

So I watched with a big grin as she collapsed on the bed, her entire body shuddering. Her breasts heaved on her chest as she gasped for breath, and her eyes rolled back in her head in ecstasy.

It was a whole minute later when she rolled her head over and opened her eyes.

It took a second for her to focus on me… but when she did, she smiled like she was both happy and exhausted.

“Oh… my… GOD,” she said, then laughed.

I laughed, too, then crawled up the bed until I was lying next to her.

We kissed for a bit, and then I asked, “What do you want now?”

Even though I couldn’t see it, I felt her hand wrap around my cock as she stared into my eyes.

“I want you inside me,” she whispered.

63

Caterina

Iloved squirting. I’d done it with a few guys in the past.

It was just this overwhelmingly intense pleasure –

This primal feeling of pleasure and letting go –

But afterwards, I was so ridiculously wet that I could barely feel a guy’s cock inside me.

That is, until I met Valentino.

He was so big that my pussy being soaked just made it easier for him to slip inside me…

But it didn’t diminish how filled up I felt.

As he got on top of me and I guided the head of his cock, I looked into his eyes…

And he smiled and winked at me as he sank deep inside me with a single, long stroke.

HOLY SHIT!

I gasped – both with pleasure and surprise.

That was INTENSE!

Once he was all the way inside me, he stayed still as we kissed…

And then he began to slowly grind inside me.

He stayed as deep as before…

But he began to rotate his hips, angling his cock in a circle, hitting all sorts of spots.

I moaned and writhed as he drove me out of my mind.

He began to thrust –

Pulling out, then slamming back inside me with a wet smack! of our bodies together.

I groaned every time he plunged deep inside me.

I raked my fingernails down his back…

And moaned louder and faster as I got closer to coming.

Suddenly, he stopped fucking me –

Pulled out –

Lowered his head to my pussy –

And started licking my clit.

“VALENTINO!” I cried out, my body arching in pleasure.

I grabbed the hair on his head and forced him to lick me harder –

And I came. Loudly.

But just as I was beginning to reach the end of my orgasm, he got up on his knees –

Roughly flipped me over on the bed –

And forced me into a kneeling position, my ass in the air and my chest on the bed.

Then he slid his cock inside me again and started fucking me doggy-style.

Hard.

And deep.

SO deep.

He was hitting spots he’d never touched before –

That I didn’t even know existed –

And it felt amazing.

“OH – OH – OH GOD – ” I cried out as he pounded me.

I twisted the sheets in my hands and hung on for dear life as I came again.

Overwhelming pleasure shook me.

I was still in the kneeling position with my breasts pressed against the mattress.

My thighs quivered, I felt so weak.

And still he kept pounding me from behind –

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

I was just about to beg him to let me rest for a second when he pulled out…

And I was immediately disappointed.

The sensations were too much, but they felt so good!

Then he pushed and toppled me onto my side on the bed.

I was about to say What’re you doing –

When he jumped onto the floor, dragged my body towards him, positioned my ass right on the edge of the bed –

And started fucking me again.

I was lying on my side, he was standing up –

And in this new position, he was hitting all new places inside me.

I groaned some more and reached for my clit.

I began rubbing myself, harder, faster –

Until I was screaming again, pleasure rocking my body from head to foot.

Before I knew it, he pulled out –

Got me in a new position –

And started fucking me again.

He was relentless.

Insatiable.

We did half a dozen different positions –

And I came every single time.

Every single time, it was slightly different.

Throbbing, pulsing orgasms…

Light, fluttery, fast ones…

Contractions deep inside me…

And the lovely feeling of clitoral orgasms – sometimes alone, sometimes blended with other types.

Finally, I guess, he couldn’t take me constantly screaming his name anymore –

Because he bellowed out my name as he came inside me.

“CATERINA!” he howled –

As I felt his cum spurt inside me.

After it was over, he collapsed on top of me…

And we chuckled as we stared into each other’s eyes.

“That was… a lot of orgasms,” I said breathlessly.

“I just had one,” he teased me. “I need to catch up.”

“You nearly pounded me through the mattress!” I exclaimed. “I can’t take ten of your orgasms!”

“Nine, then.”

“Two. Maybe.”

“Eight.”

“Three,” I suggested.

“Seven.”

“If we’re going to do this, I need a drink first,” I said.

“Coming right up.”

He got out of bed and walked over to the champagne flutes to top them off.

As he walked, I stared at his gorgeous ass – muscular and perfectly shaped.

And then, when he walked towards me, I watched, hypnotized, as his perfect cock – only halfway hard, but still massive and heavy – swung with every step.

Ohhhhhh…

He gave me the champagne flute as he stood by the bed, his gorgeous cock just a foot away from my face. “Here you go.”

“I think I’ll have the drink later,” I murmured as I set it on the bedside table…

Reached for his cock…

And started to suck him all over again.

64

Valentino

It was a wild morning.

And afternoon.

We would fuck like bunnies for an hour…

Take a rest, sipping on champagne and munching on snacks from the mini bar…

Then go at it again.

Over the course of six hours, I came five times.

Caterina lost count after her 20th… and that was pretty early in the day.

Finally she stopped me.

“I… I can’t anymore,” she gasped. “The muscles in my stomach feel like I’ve done a couple thousand sit-ups.”

“Just from orgasms?”

“Just from orgasms.”

“They oughta have a gym where women can work out like that.”

She laughed. “That would be a gigantic hit.”

To be honest, it was probably for the best that we stopped. It was getting close to the time when Paolo wanted me to finish.

He’d been respectful, so I didn’t want to be a dick just to be a dick.

“I need to go soon,” I said, getting up from the bed.

“No,” Cat pleaded, holding onto my arm with both hands.

“You’ll see me again tomorrow morning.”

“But I want to see you tonight,” she whimpered.

“Tomorrow morning,” I said gently, then hauled her up to a sitting position. “Come on, take a shower with me.”

We went behind the glass partition and I turned on the water.

It was amazing – the rocky wall on two sides, and the single glass pane on the other. The fourth side was completely open, and the water drained into a small trough in the marble floor.

We didn’t say much…

Just kissed each other…

Soaped up each other’s bodies…

Touched each other tenderly…

And washed each other’s hair.

It felt very close… very intimate.

When we were finally done, we toweled each other off.

Then Cat lay down naked in bed.

She was on her side, the curve of her hip beguiling as fuck, watching me with a smile as I put on my clothes.

When I was finished, I walked over and bent down in front of her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She put a hand on my face and looked into my eyes like she wanted to ask me something –

But instead she just smiled sadly. “…tomorrow.”

I kissed her softly one last time…

And then I was gone.

65

Caterina

It was a sensual treat to shower with Val…

His big, strong hands roaming over my breasts, my ass, my neck as the overhead shower sprayed us with hot water.

Then it was wonderful being dried by him…

His strong, powerful arms wrapped around me, his hands rubbing the soft towel against my skin.

As I lay in bed, I enjoyed watching him get dressed – his sexy muscles disappearing bit by bit behind his stylish clothes.

First his massive legs were covered up by his pants…

Then his bulging arms went into his sleeves…

And finally his washboard abs and gorgeous chest disappeared as he buttoned up his shirt.

It was like a reverse striptease.

But when he came over to me, bent down, and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I desperately wanted to beg him not to leave.

Don’t you want this to last forever?

Don’t you want US to last forever?

Do you HAVE to marry her?

Why can’t we just run away and do this for the rest of our lives?

But I had sworn that this room would be about fun… and pleasure… and joy…

And all those questions would only bring pain.

So instead I just tried to smile sweetly and agreed. “…tomorrow.”

He left, and I rolled onto my back on the bed.

The ache between my legs was a pleasurable reminder of everything that had just happened…

But the ache in my heart was a reminder of everything horrible to come.

66

Valentino

The ride home was great.

Paolo appreciated that I got out to the car on time.

After a few minutes of pleasant chatting, we stopped talking, after which I replayed movies in my head of my morning with Cat.

The sounds she’d made.

The way her breasts had felt in my hands –

The way her pussy had caressed my cock.

The look on her face as she came over and over and over.

It had been a fucking great day.

A great day fucking, you might say.

So when we got back to Don Vicari’s compound, I was feeling pretty good.

That all changed at the drop of a hat.

I had just walked into the kitchen when an older servant looked up at me.

There was no mistaking the look of terror on her face.

I stopped in my tracks, wondering what the fuck had happened.

All of a sudden, an angry voice boomed from the other side of the house.

“IS THAT HIM? SEND HIM IN HERE!”

It was Don Vicari –

And he sounded furious.

Shit.

Shit, shit, SHIT –

My mind raced.

Had he found out about Cat?

Was she in danger?!

Was I about to be killed?!

Everything in me wanted to run –

But I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other until I got to the study.

When I walked into the room, Don Vicari was sitting at his desk, a demonic scowl on his face.

Rocco was standing next to him.

My first reaction was You fucking son of a bitch –

But then I realized that Rocco hadn’t sold me out. Not intentionally, at least.

His eyes were downcast, his lips were quivering, and he looked like he might start crying any second.

There was a bright red mark on his cheek –

Like he’d been viciously slapped.

Or maybe even punched.

The ‘tough guy’ had gotten smacked around by Daddy.

But then I realized what that meant for me:

Nothing good, that was for sure.

“You wanted to see me?” I asked.

“Where the fuck were you today?” Vicari snarled.

I stared at him in surprise.

Oh shit.

“Yeah,” Don Vicari said with a savage smile. “I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere. Rocco didn’t know I had a mole in his crew. He called me earlier to tell me Rocco punched you and left you behind, and then you just disappeared. So tell me, pretty boy – what the fuck were you doing?”

I knew from Rocco’s expression that the jig was up.

No point in lying.

…unless it was lying by omission.

“In exchange for punching me in front of his crew – so he got to look tough in front of his guys – Rocco let me go,” I said. “So I went drinking.”

Rocco, who had been staring at the floor like a five-year-old, looked up at me in surprise.

Don Vicari frowned. Apparently he hadn’t been expecting a confession.

(Even though I left out the part about who I was drinking with. And what else I was doing with her.)

“Bullshit,” Vicari snapped.

“It’s the truth.”

“Where were you drinking?”

Shit.

“I don’t know Ragusa,” I said. “Somewhere near some steps.”

There were a shit-ton of steps in Ragusa, so I figured it could’ve been anywhere.

Don Vicari narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Let me smell your breath,” he demanded.

I’d told him about the drinking because I knew I could sell it.

Not only had Cat and I drunk the complimentary bottle of champagne that came with the room…

We’d also drunk another two bottles from the mini-fridge.

Okay, okay…

She’d had maybe three glasses total.

I’d drunk all the rest.

I was still mildly buzzed from two and a half bottles of champagne over the last six hours.

Not only that, but I was 100% sure he wouldn’t smell sex on me because I’d taken a shower –

And he wouldn’t smell anything else because Cat had followed Paolo’s advice about not wearing perfume.

I walked over to Don Vicari, leaned over, and breathed in his face.

By the way, this was – by far – the weirdest fucking thing that had ever happened to me in the Cosa Nostra: a mafia don sniffing my breath like he was a parent busting a 13-year-old kid for raiding the liquor cabinet.

“What the fuck is that?” he barked.

“Champagne.”

He looked at me with disgust. “Champagne?! What the fuck are you, a faggot?”

My blood boiled in one second flat.

I didn’t care if anybody was gay or not –

But I knew Vicari did.

And he was quite obviously questioning my manhood –

The worst insult he could level at me.

I about lost my fucking mind –

And I was already buzzed –

So I did something I probably shouldn’t have.

Scratch that:

Something I definitely shouldn’t have.

“No,” I hissed, “and if you ever call me that again, I’ll slap the fucking shit out of you.”

Rocco looked over at me in wide-eyed terror.

Don Vicari was shocked –

And then his expression turned murderous.

He leapt up and swung his arm at me in an open-handed slap –

But I’d studied hand-to-hand combat for months under Lars.

I didn’t even think. I just blocked him.

My forearm struck the inside of his, HARD, and stopped the blow.

Rocco looked like he was about to shit a bowling ball.

To be honest, as soon as I’d realized what I’d done, I almost shit one, too.

Don Vicari looked absolutely astounded –

And then he came stomping around the desk, shoving Rocco out of his way.

This time, though, his hands were balled into fists.

He bellowed like a bull and swung at me –

But I stepped out of range.

He swung at me again –

And I stepped back once more.

At which point he reached into his jacket and pulled out a revolver –

Which he aimed directly in my face.

Fuck this.

If I was going out, I wasn’t going out like a bitch.

“All I said was, ‘Never call me a faggot again,’” I snarled. “Is that the kind of pussy you want in your family? Somebody who’ll let another man call him that? Somebody who’ll just drop his pants and bend over?”

Vicari glared at me over the barrel of the gun –

And then he started roaring with laughter.

He doubled over, both his hands (including the one with the gun) braced on his knees, and proceeded to bust a gut.

I’d only ever heard him laugh in that psycho way of his, or maybe chuckle a little –

Nothing like this.

Neither had Rocco, apparently.

He looked like he’d just seen aliens walk out of a spaceship.

He kept glancing between me and his father like, Am I on drugs?! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!

I had no clue.

I thought about trying to disarm Don Vicari and take away the gun –

But then I’d have to shoot my way out of a compound surrounded by a hundred Sicilians with guns.

No thanks.

I decided to ride it out and see what happened.

When Don Vicari stood up 60 seconds later, he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

“Fuckin’ hell – when I said you had balls, kid, I didn’t even know the half of it,” he said, snorting with laughter as he put his gun back in his jacket.

“I don’t like being called a faggot,” I said casually, like it was all just a funny misunderstanding.

“I can see that,” he chuckled, then shook his head. “Why the fuck would you pull this bullshit just so you could go drinking?”

“…I like getting drunk,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

Don Vicari started laughing again and turned to Rocco. “He likes to get drunk!”

Rocco hesitantly smiled, but his eyes were still wide with fear.

In this instance, Rocco was smarter than I was.

I started laughing along with Don Vicari, thinking the danger was past –

And that was when he sucker-punched me.

His fist slammed into my gut like a sledgehammer.

Rocco couldn’t hit, but his old man sure as shit could.

I wasn’t ready for it. All the air went out of me, and I collapsed to my knees in pain.

Vicari grabbed my hair, yanked my head to the side, and bent down close to my ear. “That’s for talking back to me, you little cocksucker. Do not EVER do that again. If you disrespected me like that in front of anybody else but my son, I’d put a bullet in your head on principle. Do you understand?”

I just nodded, unable to say anything because I still couldn’t breathe.

“And this – ”

Vicari slammed an open palm into my face, knocking me to the floor.

I’d been punched by over a dozen guys in my lifetime.

Most of them didn’t punch half as hard as Don Vicari’s slap.

“ – is for not following my fucking directions and doing your goddamn job,” he snarled.

I lay there sprawled on the floor, unable to breathe –

And then air finally rushed back into my lungs. I inhaled with a groan.

My left ear was ringing, the side of my face hurt, and my guts felt like they were on fire.

Don Vicari stood up and straightened his jacket. Then he looked over at Rocco.

“Despite him being a shithead, that took some fuckin’ balls,” he said. “You could learn a lesson or two from him.”

“…yes, Papa,” Rocco whimpered.

“Now get up,” Don Vicari growled at me.

I forced myself onto my knees and staggered back to my feet.

Vicari glared at me. “You think my business is so beneath you? You think you don’t have anything to learn? Then you can just stick around the compound until you get married.”

SHIT.

I tried not to betray my panic –

But if I couldn’t get out of the compound, then I couldn’t see Cat.

FUCK!

“I’m sorry – ” I started.

“Too fuckin’ late for that,” Don Vicari barked. “You don’t want to do as I say, you can sit around here with your thumb up your ass.”

Rocco laughed like a kiss-ass. “That was a good one, Papa!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Don Vicari snapped contemptuously.

Rocco went quiet and cast his eyes at the floor.

If I wanted to see Caterina again, I had to think of a way around Don Vicari’s order.

“Why don’t I take Isabella out and show her Sicily?” I suggested, my breathing still ragged from the punch.

Vicari looked at me like I was speaking another language.

“She said she’s only been to Palermo,” I continued. “Anytime I mentioned how I visited other cities and countries, she couldn’t get enough of it.”

When Vicari didn’t say anything, I kept talking –

Which I realized violated Niccolo’s rule about Whoever speaks first after the offer is made loses the negotiation, but fuck it. I was panicking.

“I mean, I can spend time with her here, or I can spend time with her there,” I said. “I might as well go see the cities you control – and make her happy at the same time. Right?”

“Why do you want to get away from here so bad?” Vicari asked. “Did you fuck some whore today?”

“No, I did not,” I said.

My irritation was real – mostly because I hated him referring to Cat that way, even though he didn’t know who she was.

“And as for wanting to get away so bad, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s boring as shit around here.”

Vicari glared at me – Watch it, boy – then asked coldly, “You expect me to reward you for disobeying my orders?”

“I thought you’d want me to make your daughter happy. Especially since she’s miserable around here,” I said, then decided to take a gamble. “Why do you think she reads so much? Because it’s boring as shit. She wants to know what it’s like out there – and the only way she can do that is by reading books.”

Vicari seemed to consider that.

I think the only thing he disliked more than me was his daughter’s fondness for books.

“I don’t want you taking her out drinking,” he finally said. “Or trying to corrupt her in any other way.”

My mind raced –

And I remembered the tough chick who’d come to my bedroom door the other night.

If you hit Isabella, or abuse her emotionally, or demean her in any way… Don Vicari won’t have the chance to do anything to you, because they’ll find you bled out in your bed with your dick cut off.

“Send Ludavica along as a chaperone,” I suggested. “She knows better than to lie to you, right?”

I’d figure out how to get around the ‘lie to you’ part later.

The Don thought for another few seconds, then said, “It’s not safe.”

“I thought you ran Sicily,” I retorted. “Who would be stupid enough to mess with your daughter?”

“There are plenty of stupid people in the world, boy.”

“So send some foot soldiers along,” I suggested, then realized I was going to make my life a lot harder if Vicari followed my advice. Then I had a bright idea. “But that might draw attention… why don’t you just give Paolo a gun? He’d make a good bodyguard.”

“…Paolo?” Don Vicari asked, slightly confused.

“Molinari,” Rocco spoke up, then dropped his eyes quickly when his father glared at him. “He’s been driving Valentino around.”

“So he was in on your little scam,” Vicari said to me angrily.

Shit.

“He just dropped me off,” I said. “He didn’t know about the thing with Rocco. I met him at the pick-up point. He never knew I was out drinking.”

“What was the pick-up point?” Vicari asked.

He was trying to catch me in a lie –

But I was ready for him.

“That big church in Ragusa,” I said. “The Duomo.”

Vicari didn’t seem 100% satisfied, but he didn’t seem as suspicious anymore, either.

“You could tell Isabella it’s a wedding gift from you,” I suggested, trying to get off the topic of Paolo. “I’m sure she’d love it.”

Vicari stared at me for another moment, like he was trying to see through me –

And then he said, “I have something to show you. Come with me.”

Great.

As we walked out of the study, Rocco started to follow us –

“Not you,” Vicari said contemptuously. “You stay here. Or better yet, go back home to your wife.”

Rocco blushed a deep shade of crimson and stared at the floor as we left.

As much as I hated the guy, I pitied him.

He was exactly what I didn’t want to end up being:

A dog on a leash, with Don Vicari holding the other end.

67

Don Vicari was silent as we walked out the back of the house.

Given the pile of shit I’d just talked myself out of, I kept my mouth shut so I didn’t accidentally step back in it.

Every foot soldier we passed bowed their head in respect.

All of them said either “Padrone” or “Don Vicari.”

He didn’t even acknowledge them.

We passed through the gardens, then headed for the rugged hills around the property.

That’s when I realized where we were headed.

The barn.

The one that the foot soldier had told me, It is not for you.

What with all the travels to Pozzallo, Gela, and Ragusa, I’d totally forgotten about the barn –

But as we headed right for it, I was filled with a sense of dread.

Don Vicari started talking. He didn’t look at me as he spoke.

“Isabella doesn’t think I read at all, but I do. Not as much as her, but some. History, mostly.

“In one book, I read that dogs basically chose to be domesticated.

“You see, the first hunter-gatherers were nomads. When they moved from place to place, they encountered wolves everywhere they went.

“At night, when humans sat around the fire, the most docile wolves would approach the fire. The humans would feed them, the same way that people throw food to birds on restaurant patios.

“When the humans left to find better hunting grounds, the same wolves would follow them. They would continue to go up to the campfires at night, begging to be fed.

“Eventually, those wolves would breed with each other. After all, they had abandoned their packs, and new packs wouldn’t accept them – so they only had each other to mate with. Because of genetics, their pups were even more docile towards humans.

“After ten generations, you had wolves that gladly lay at humans’ feet and were treated like pets. In short, you had dogs.

“After that, humans bred them for different purposes. Some dogs pulled sleds. Some helped with hunting. Others became guard dogs. They began to look different, too. Long hair, short hair… long legs, short legs…

“Humans are like dogs, boy. Our entire race has selectively bred out the wild animal in us, until all that remains are fancy little poodles and lapdogs.

“But some men… some men still are wolves. They were never turned into dogs to begin with. They’re wild and dangerous, through and through.”

We reached the barn and paused outside, where a couple of foot soldiers stood guard by a sliding wooden door.

They waited for a command from Don Vicari, but he didn’t give one. He was still intent on his story.

“I’m a wolf,” he said with a cruel smile. Then his smile turned into a look of disgust. “Rocco is not. He’s a lapdog pretending to be a wolf, and failing miserably. I thought I could teach him to be a wolf… but I was wrong. You either are or you aren’t.

“The question is… are you a wolf… or are you a dog?

“I saw your wild side earlier when you dared to cross me.

“But is it just a side of you… or are you a wolf, through and through?

“Because, if you’re a wolf, know this:

“If you ever cross me again… I will rip your fucking throat out.”

A shiver ran down my spine.

I believed him.

I wanted to say, Well, old man, you’d die if you tried it because I’d rip YOUR fucking throat out at the same time–

But there was something he wanted me to show me, and I wanted to know what it was.

“Open the door,” Don Vicari ordered the foot soldiers.

One of the men grabbed the handle and pulled the door back.

The first thing that hit me was the smell.

It floated out like poison gas – the stench of shit and stale piss and rotting meat.

It was ten times worse than San Vittore, the hellhole where Dario had been imprisoned.

I nearly vomited.

Then I saw the source of the smell.

There was a naked man inside the barn. He was doubled over on his knees on the dirt floor, but his arms were held up by iron chains bolted to the brick walls of the barn. Smaller chains hung from the ceiling as well.

He had been tortured. Horribly.

Strips of skin had been peeled from his body, exposing patches of raw muscle.

The rest of his skin had burn marks and blisters everywhere.

His fingers were bent at terrible angles, snapped like matchsticks.

The rest of him – the parts that weren’t flayed or burned or broken – were coated with dried blood. A swarm of insects buzzed all around him in the air.

At first I thought he was dead –

Until he lifted his head weakly and whispered, “…please… Don Vicari… kill me…”

His single eye stared up at me in agony.

The other eye was gone – just a dark socket.

Most of his teeth were broken. Not pulled – shattered.

Then my eyes grew accustomed to the shadows in the barn.

I saw that the smaller strands I’d thought were chains…

Were actually plastic tubes hooked to IV bags suspended from the ceiling.

They all led to needles in his arms.

There was one IV bag filled with blood and a couple filled with clear liquid.

All of them had words printed on the plastic.

Medical supplies.

That’s when I understood.

They weren’t just torturing him…

They were actively keeping him alive so they could keep on torturing him.

I had heard about Hell during sermons in church, about the torments of the damned –

But now I saw it in front of me in the flesh.

I knew my father had killed men who had betrayed him before – Niccolo had told me –

But it had always been quick.

A bullet to the back of the head, and it was over.

Not like this.

Never like this.

I stepped back in overwhelming horror –

But Don Vicari’s hand clamped the back of my neck and forced me to look.

“When you first arrived with your brother in Catania, I told you that I killed my consigliere,” he said without emotion. “Not precisely true. I’m in the process of killing him, you see.”

I stared at the thing on the floor of the barn, barely recognizable as human –

Until Don Vicari spun me around to look at him.

He smiled – the terrible smile of a wolf.

“He betrayed me,” Don Vicari said.

The smile turned into a snarl.

“DON’T BETRAY ME… OR ELSE.”

68

That evening at dinner, I couldn’t eat.

All I could think about was the man chained in the barn… the horrors of his wounds…

The way he had whispered, Please… KILL me…

Don Vicari seemed to take pleasure in my distress. He smiled throughout dinner like he’d heard an amusing joke.

The great-grandmother kept her eyes on her plate, not ever looking up from it as she ate.

Isabella kept glancing back and forth between me and her father.

Finally, she timidly broke the silence.

“Is… is something wrong, Valentino?”

“He just had a hard day at work,” Don Vicari said.

“Oh – I’m so sorry.” The look of concern she gave me was real.

I smiled weakly but couldn’t bring myself to say anything.

“But there’s good news,” Don Vicari announced. “I’ve decided to let Valentino escort you around Sicily to various towns. So you can see the sights. An early wedding present, you might say.”

The great-grandmother looked up in surprise.

Isabella stared at her father, her lower lip quivering. “Are you… are you serious?”

“Of course I am,” he said, almost in annoyance. “I wouldn’t have said it if I weren’t serious.”

Isabella suddenly burst into tears, jumped up from her seat, and ran around the table. She hugged her father from the side as she continued to cry. “Thank you, Papa – thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Don Vicari smiled even wider as he patted her arm.

It was one of the few times I’d ever seen him look genuinely happy… like he was a normal human being.

The great-grandmother beamed at Isabella and Don Vicari.

“I can’t take all the credit,” Don Vicari said, his smile shifting to something sly and wolfish. “Your fiancé was the one who suggested it.”

“Really?!” Isabella sobbed.

She flew from her father’s side and ran towards me as though she was going to hug me –

Then she stopped short, like she knew she shouldn’t come any closer.

Still, she shifted from foot to foot like an excited child on Christmas morning.

“Thank you, Valentino! Thank you!”

The look on her face was sweet but heartbreaking.

No one should be that happy about traveling 50 miles away from their house.

It should’ve been their God-given right. Something they’d done all their lives.

“What do you say, boy?” Don Vicari asked, his voice happy but tinged with dark warning.

I forced a smile. “…sure. You’re welcome.”

Isabella went back to her father and showered him with hugs.

The old lady looked over at me and beamed. “You a good boy,” she said, loud enough for the entire table to hear.

If she knew the truth about why I’d suggested I take Isabella to other towns, I doubt she would have felt the same.

As I gave the same forced, sickly smile to the great-grandmother, Don Vicari caught my eye.

When I looked at him, he smirked and stared me down.

I remembered his warning at the barn – both what he’d shown me and what he’d said:

DON’T BETRAY ME.

OR ELSE.

I looked down at my plate again and continued to push my food around my plate.

69

Back in my room, I considered exactly what the fuck I had gotten myself into.

Should I continue to see Cat?

The smart answer was No –

But I’d never been one for the smart answer.

The truth was, I had nothing else but her –

And the idea of never seeing her again was fucking torture.

Speaking of torture, the only things that blotted out the horror of what I’d seen in the barn were my memories of Cat’s face –

Her eyes –

Her smile.

She was the angel who saved me from visions of Hell.

But if I kept seeing her, I was endangering her.

If Don Vicari found out about her…

However, if I didn’t continue seeing her, I was letting that fucking psychopath win.

The real truth?

I needed her.

It had been the truth back home – and it was especially true now.

Every waking minute without her, I plotted and I schemed to see her again.

To fuck her again.

To be with her again.

She was my drug. My addiction. My heroin, my crack cocaine.

Especially now, when the rest of my life was destroyed.

As far as real drugs go, my brothers and I had indulged every now and then – in Ibiza, Amsterdam, Barcelona.

Cocaine, ecstasy… party drugs. None of us had ever gotten addicted. We’d been able to ‘hit it and quit it.’

Part of that was because my father had always spoken about drug addicts with contempt, and none of us wanted to be the son who disappointed him.

However, Niccolo argued that some people were just trying to blot out the horrors of the world.

Abuse… grinding poverty… hopelessness.

Funny that it was Nic – the brother I hated – who’d argued for compassion.

But now I totally understood what he’d meant.

I’d seen something I’d never be able to unsee…

Something that would follow me to my grave…

And all I wanted was to blot out the memory with something pure. Something beautiful. Something wonderful.

But I couldn’t endanger her… I couldn’t lose her…

So the decision would have to be hers.

I would let her know the dangers, and I would let her make the final decision.

If it was No, I can’t take that chance, then I would accept it and tell her to run far away from Sicily.

But if she said Yes…

Then I was going to have to see her again.

I wanted her too badly.

I ached in my bones to see her again…

To fuck her again…

To simply hold her again.

However, I couldn’t talk to her until I had Paolo’s phone tomorrow morning.

Until then, I had another problem.

If any of this was going to work, I was going to need to get somebody else on board…

Or, sooner or later, I’d be completely fucked.

I was careful to avoid Don Vicari, the old lady, or any of the servants as I crept to Isabella’s room.

When I finally got there, I knocked lightly on the door.

A girl’s voice called out, “Who is it?”

“Valentino,” I said in a quiet voice.

There was a long pause.

Then –

“…what?!”

“I need to talk to you,” I whispered.

I heard the lock unlatch. The door opened an inch, and one eye stared through the crack.

“What are you doing here?” Isabella whispered frantically. “If my father catches you – ”

“Trust me, I know. Let me in, I need to talk to you.”

She looked panicked. “I can’t – ”

“I’m not going to touch you or make a pass at you, but I need to come in. Please.”

Isabella paused…

Looked behind her at something…

Then opened the door.

“Hurry,” she whispered.

I stepped into the room, and she shut the door behind me.

As I passed by her, I noted what she was wearing: a long, light blue, shapeless nightgown that stretched from her collarbones to her ankles. It was sleeveless, which was the only thing remotely sexy about it. In fact, it looked like it might have been in style 30 years before I was born.

But as soon as I was inside, I got a surprise.

Ludavica was standing on the other side of the room, wearing a nearly identical nightgown in pink.

“What are you doing in here?” I asked, confused.

“Helping her get ready for bed,” Ludavica snarled. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

Whoa.

Touchy servant girl.

I turned back to Isabella, who had locked the door again. “Can we talk in private?”

“Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of Ludavica.”

“This is private.”

Isabella crossed her arms and looked at me sternly. “I’m not sending her out of the room.”

“I’m not going to rape you if that’s what you’re afraid of,” I said angrily.

She recoiled at the word but shook her head. “I don’t care. Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of her.”

I looked over at Ludavica. It was obvious she wasn’t going anywhere.

I had no intention of gambling my life on her silence –

But at some point, I was going to have to take a chance. I didn’t have any other choice.

I decided to give them just enough information that I could figure out how they might react.

“No offense, but I need to tell you something that could get me killed, and I need to know she’s not going to go ratting to your father,” I snapped.

Isabella’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

“I think I can trust you since we’re going to get married. Her, I don’t trust at all.”

“She won’t tell my father anything. Neither will I.”

“That’s not going to do me any good if she – ”

“I swear on my mother’s soul that I won’t tell,” Isabella interrupted, then looked over at Ludavica. “Lu?”

Ludavica didn’t look happy, but she muttered, “I swear on my mother’s soul I won’t tell.”

“There? Satisfied?” Isabella asked.

They’d both gone full Cosa Nostra and sworn on something holy to them.

“Yeah… okay,” I relented.

I started to speak –

Hesitated –

“…well?” Isabella prodded me.

“I don’t want to get married to you.”

She didn’t react the way I thought she would.

She gave an amused smile and raised one eyebrow. “You risked a beating from my father just to tell me that?”

I stared at her in shock. “You don’t care?”

She chuckled. “I don’t suppose this ever crossed your mind: do you really think I wanted to marry you?”

I know it was kind of arrogant of me –

Okay, really arrogant –

But I was a little offended.

I was all like, WHAT?!

Hot chicks all over Italy throw themselves at me, and you’re not interested?!

“I… uh, okay,” I said, my pride bruised.

“My father thinks I’m going to be an old maid,” Isabella said sourly, “so he decided to go back to the 19th century for a solution, which was to marry me off to another family for his own business interests. So, if that’s all you wanted to tell me, I suggest you go back to your room before somebody comes and – ”

“There’s another girl,” I blurted out.

Isabella blinked. “…oh.”

She didn’t seem hurt – just surprised.

So I kept on going.

“She’s here in Sicily. She followed me after my brothers forced me to come here. I didn’t work with your brother today; I was with her.”

Isabella stared at me, wide-eyed –

And then comprehension dawned on her face.

“Ohhhhhhhhh,” she said, then laughed. “So this whole ‘taking me to see other towns’ is just a ruse to see her.”

“…yeah,” I admitted, stunned that she didn’t sound angry.

“Pretty clever.”

“You’re not pissed off?”

She smiled. “Like I said, I didn’t want to get married to you in the first place. At least this way, I’m getting to do something I always wanted to do.”

I had to admit, I was completely thrown for a loop.

I’d expected to have to convince her, or plead with her, or bargain –

But she didn’t seem to care.

“Then you’re okay with me seeing this other girl?” I asked incredulously.

“Sure,” she said with a shrug. “As long as you get me out of this house.”

“…okay,” I said, stunned. “It’s a deal.”

Then I remembered there was another party to this agreement.

I turned and looked at Ludavica. “And you’re not going to tell?”

She looked amused. “I could give a rat’s ass who you’re banging.”

Damn.

Okay…

I looked back at Isabella. “So… we’re cool?”

“We’re fine,” she said in amusement. “Have you sufficiently unburdened your conscience?”

“I guess…”

“Then you should probably get back to your room.”

“Yeah – okay,” I said as I headed for the door.

“One question, though.”

I looked back warily. “Yeah?”

“Do you love her?” Isabella asked in a soft voice. She sounded genuinely curious.

Despite her complete lack of anger, the question struck fear inside my gut.

“I… I hadn’t thought about it,” I muttered.

Isabella’s eyes widened. “You hadn’t thought about it?!”

“I just – I – it’s complicated.”

Now Isabella looked irritated. “A woman comes all the way here for you – you risk my father beating you within an inch of your life – and you hadn’t ‘thought about it’?”

I flashed back to the barn.

I think it’d be a lot worse than beating me within an inch of my life.

“…no,” I said lamely.

Isabella frowned. “You should probably start to think about it, then.”

I didn’t know what to do –

So I just nodded like an idiot.

When she didn’t say anything, I asked – like an even bigger idiot – “Can I, uh, go now?”

Isabella sighed, then said, “Lu, check the hallway, will you?”

Ludavica crossed the room, unlocked the door, and peered outside.

“Coast is clear,” she whispered.

“Goodnight, Valentino,” Isabella said in mild exasperation.

“Goodnight,” I said, then crept out into the darkness.

It was at that point I realized something:

I was never going to understand women.

Ever.

70

Another upside of not having to work on Rocco’s crew was that I didn’t have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn anymore.

I was eating breakfast around 8 the next morning with Isabella and Ludavica – under the watchful and disapproving eye of an older kitchen servant – when Paolo walked in.

“Hey, boss,” he said cheerfully.

Guess he was happy about his promotion to Isabella’s bodyguard.

“Good morning,” I said.

“Signorinas,” he said respectfully to Isabella and Ludavica.

Isabella smiled back at him and said Ciao.

Ludavica said Ciao but didn’t smile.

Then Paolo turned back to me.

“Hey, boss,” he said excitedly, “take a look at this!”

He opened his suit jacket to reveal a shoulder holster and revolver.

“You know how to handle that thing?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said, offended.

“Okay.”

“So – where’re we headed this fine morning?” he asked Isabella.

“I asked Papa if we could go to Cefalù, and he said yes.”

“Where’s Cefalù?” I asked.

“About an hour and a half north of here,” Paolo said. “On the coast.”

I frowned. “How far is Cefalù from Ragusa?”

Paolo looked at me with wide eyes and a fake smile like, What the fuck are you asking THAT for? “Uh… three and a half hours, give or take?”

Shit. That meant Cat’s taxi would have to drive pretty far.

I needed to call her as soon as we got out of here.

“Alright, then – let’s get going,” I said.

We all walked out to the SUV. I got in the front passenger seat beside Paolo, and both girls got in the back.

As soon as Paolo was on the main road, I said, “Let me see your phone.”

He laughed nervously and looked at me like, Are you crazy?! “Uh… why, boss?”

“So I can call Caterina.”

I said it mostly to see what his reaction would be.

He didn’t disappoint.

He swerved into the oncoming lane, although he recovered quickly enough.

Luckily nobody was coming in the opposite direction.

“Jesus, don’t kill us!” I barked.

Paolo laughed nervously again. “Who’s Caterina?”

“We already know,” Isabella informed him from the backseat.

Paolo looked around in bug-eyed terror. “You do?!”

“Yes.” Then Isabella looked at me. “Is that her name? Caterina?”

“Yeah,” I said uncomfortably.

It was a little weird talking to your future wife about the girl you were banging.

“That’s a pretty name,” Isabella said sweetly.

“Yeah,” I said lamely.

What was I supposed to say?

Thank you?

I agree?

Instead, I focused on Paolo. “Your phone.”

Paolo was sweating now. “This is a bad idea.”

“Now you know why you got your promotion.”

He glared at me –

But he got distracted when Isabella said, “We can keep a secret.”

Paolo looked at them in the rearview mirror, then shook his head and swore under his breath.

“PHONE,” I said.

He pulled it out and slapped it into my palm.

“Pull off the road up ahead,” I ordered him.

“Why?”

I glared at him. “So I can talk to her outside the car.”

“What, we don’t get to listen to your conversation with your girlfriend?” Isabella teased.

“She’s not my girlfriend. And no, you don’t.”

“Awww,” Ludavica complained playfully.

“Not your girlfriend?!” Isabella exclaimed. She was having more fun than I’d ever seen before. “What is she, then – your mistress?”

“I think she’s a fuck buddy,” Ludavica said, which made Isabella gasp –

And then both girls collapsed into gales of laughter.

I glared at them in the rearview mirror, then looked at Paolo. “Pull over – now.”

Once I was outside the SUV – and had shut the door on the girls’ playful taunts and Paolo’s obvious panic – I dialed Caterina.

“…hello?” she answered warily.

“It’s me.”

“Hey!” she said, her voice suddenly full of joy.

I remembered Isabella’s remark about Cat being my girlfriend but quickly brushed it off.

“So, ready to see me again?”

“Of course!”

“Good. But there’s something we need to talk about first.”

Caterina sounded worried. “…oh?”

“Don Vicari found out I didn’t work with his son yesterday.”

“Does he know about us?” she asked fearfully.

“No – I told him I went out drinking, and he bought it. But in order to get out of the house to see you, I had to come up with another excuse.”

“…which is…?”

“I have to take Isabella with me and show her around the city.”

There was a long pause.

“Is that her name?” Cat finally asked. “Your wife?”

“Future wife,” I said in annoyance. “Yes, that’s her name.”

Another long pause.

“How are you going to keep her from finding out about us if you’ve got to show her around?”

“She already knows.”

“SHE ALREADY KNOWS?!”

I’d never heard Cat scream before. It took me by surprise.

“It’s cool, it’s cool,” I said quickly. “She’s fine with it. She doesn’t want to get married to me, either, but she wants to go out and see Sicily.”

“And you believe her?!”

“Yes. You wouldn’t believe how much her father has her on lockdown. She’s only left her house a couple times in her life.”

I could hear the bewilderment in Cat’s voice. “And she’s HOW old?!”

“Twenty-four, I think. Look, that’s not the important part – ”

“Oh, the part where you told your future wife about us isn’t the important part,” Cat said sarcastically. “What’s the important part, then?”

“The important part is her father’s a fucking psychopath, and yesterday I saw what he did to somebody who crossed him,” I said angrily. “It wasn’t pretty. In fact, it was pretty fucking horrible.”

Silence.

“Look,” I said, trying to bring it down a notch, “I called you to warn you. If you don’t want to run the risk, I’d understand – ”

“If I don’t want to run the risk,” she repeated in disbelief.

“Yeah. Of him finding out.”

“Val… I walked out of the house right under the nose of Niccolo and Don Rosolini. If either of THEM had found out I was going to see you, I don’t think it would have ended well.”

“They wouldn’t have done anything to you – they would’ve just stopped you.”

“Well, I’m sure they wouldn’t be so nice about it if they found me here in Sicily.”

“They still wouldn’t do anything to you,” I said in exasperation.

“Are you trying to back out?” she asked softly. “Are you just trying to just let me down easy?”

“What?! No! Absolutely not!”

“Are YOU afraid?”

“Yes!” I said, then clarified. “Not for me. I’m afraid for you. If anything happened to you… I don’t think I could live with myself.”

“Aww…” Cat seemed genuinely happy to hear me say it. Then she added, “But if something happens to me, I’m pretty sure it’ll happen to you, too. So you won’t have to live with yourself long.”

“THAT’S dark,” I said with a chuckle.

“I guess it is.” She sighed. “Look, I KNOW this is dangerous. I don’t care. I only want to be with you. So if you’re asking me, then I’m in. All the way. We’ll just have to be careful.”

I wondered how careful Don Vicari’s consigliere had been.

But I had to admit, I was relieved by Cat’s choice.

“Okay,” I said happily. “Alright, good.”

“Where do I meet you?”

“A place called Cefalù. It’s pretty far from Ragusa – about three-and-a-half hours.”

“Then I better get going.”

“Call or text me when you get there. Or call or text Paolo, I guess.”

“I will. I can’t wait to see you!”

“Same here, babe,” I said warmly, a huge swell of emotion surging in my chest. “I l– ”

I stopped myself.

I had been about to say something I had never said to any woman –

And which wasn’t a good idea to say now.

Especially now.

“…yes?” Cat whispered hopefully.

I struggled to answer…

Then finally just said, “I’ll see you soon.”

Another long pause.

“…see you soon,” she said sadly, then hung up.

Shit.

For somebody who was going to get laid in a few hours, I was suddenly incredibly depressed.

I remembered what Isabella had said last night:

Do you love her?

A woman comes all the way here for you – and you hadn’t ‘thought about it’?

You should probably START to think about it, then.

I stood there for a long time, thinking…

And then I looked through the other calls on Paolo’s phone until I found it:

Alessandra’s number.

It was one of many Lars had made us all memorize.

I pressed the number and waited, my heart beating twice as fast.

“Hello?” a familiar voice answered.

“Alessandra?”

“Valentino!” she cried out joyously. “What are you doing calling from THIS number?!”

“He lent it to me.”

“So it’s going okay?”

“Yeah – yeah, it’s going great. I’ve seen Caterina a couple of times in the last couple of days.”

“I know!” Alessandra said impishly.

“…you do?”

“She’s been texting me. I’m so happy for you two!”

She sounded so joyful, it lifted my spirits the tiniest bit.

“I just wanted to say ‘thank you’ for doing this,” I said humbly.

“You’re more than welcome!”

“Dario doesn’t know yet, does he?”

She sounded a little grim. “No. At least, he hasn’t said anything. But you know Dario. He has a way of looking into your eyes and knowing what you’re thinking.”

She couldn’t have put it better. My oldest brother had an almost spooky way of reading people.

“But Niccolo has given me crap ever since Caterina left. He suspects something, and he won’t let up.”

“That’s because he’s an asshole.”

She laughed. “Only sometimes.”

I wanted to say, Talk to me when he forces YOU into an arranged marriage –

But I didn’t want to ruin things.

Instead I said, “Well, I just thought it would be safer to call you than call them.”

I could hear the concern in her voice as she asked, “Why? Is there something you need? Does Caterina need more money? She’s too shy to ask for it, isn’t she? I can get it to her – ”

“It’s not that,” I said. “I was… I was wondering about Massimo and Lars.”

“…oh.”

That single word told me everything I needed to know.

“There’s still no word,” she said gently.

My stomach sank.

“What about Roberto?”

“He’s not back from Hong Kong yet.”

Shit.

I had hoped that if Lars and Massimo were back home safe and Roberto had gotten the money, then maybe Dario would pull me out of Sicily –

And Cat and I could actually have a chance together.

But nothing had changed.

Dario still needed the alliance with Don Vicari so we could stand a chance against Uncle Fausto.

“I guess nobody called you because there wasn’t any news,” she said sympathetically.

“It’s okay… I just wanted to check in,” I said glumly.

“Are you alright?”

“Just worried.”

“I know… we all are. And I hate what they made you do. I really do.”

“Thanks,” I murmured. “Thanks for everything, but… I should probably go.”

“Okay. Please, if you need anything – anything at all – just call me.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Give my love to Cat when you see her again.”

“I will. Bye, Alessandra.”

“Goodbye.”

I hung up the phone, my heart heavy, and trudged back to the car.

When I opened the door, Isabella and Ludavica were teasing Paolo, who looked beyond uncomfortable.

“Come onnnn,” Isabella said. “You mean to tell me you don’t know anything about Valentino’s girlfriend? Excuse me, his ‘mistress’?”

“Fuck buddy,” Ludavica reminded her, and they both dissolved into howls of laughter.

Jesus Christ.

It was like being in a car with a couple of drunk high school girls.

Paolo looked at me with a sickly expression like, How the hell could you leave me alone with them?!

“Let’s go,” I said as I held out Paolo’s phone.

“Ooh, I wanna see it!” Isabella said as she snatched it away from me.

Ludavica clapped in excitement.

“What?! NO!” Paolo cried out as he twisted around in the seat. “Give it here!”

“I won’t call anybody,” Isabella reassured him. “I just want to look on the internet.”

“For what?” I asked.

“I don’t know – anything!”

“You’ve never even been on the internet.”

“Now’s the perfect time to start, then.”

Paolo looked at me in a panic. “Boss?”

I sighed. I didn’t have it in me to fight over a goddamn cell phone. “Let her have it.”

“But – ”

“It’s the least of all the secrets we have going on,” I said grimly.

“Yeah,” Isabella agreed. “The least of all the secrets.”

Paolo grumbled, then turned back around in his seat and started the engine.

“Um… Valentino?” Isabella asked.

“Yeah?”

“…how do you get on the internet?”

71

Caterina

Ihung up the phone and stared off into space.

He was going to say ‘I love you.’

And then he didn’t.

Why didn’t he?

I already knew the answer:

Because he doesn’t love you.

It hurt like hell to admit that.

Like my heart was made of glass and had cracked in a dozen places without breaking.

Part of me wanted to just leave Sicily behind forever… to start over again somewhere else…

But I knew I couldn’t.

I wanted him too much.

Even if he only gave me scraps of his time, I couldn’t turn them down.

I looked around the beautiful cave I’d spent the night in – alone.

Everywhere I looked was a reminder of Valentino…

And all the things he’d made me feel when he was here.

This is all I might ever get.

Seeing him in secret…

Fucking him like it’s the last time.

Is that enough?

I sat there for a long time asking myself that question.

I finally decided it was…

If the alternative was I never got to be with him again.

We didn’t have much time left together.

Once he was married, I doubted we would be together anymore.

So… I would take the little I could get, because I couldn’t walk away from him.

Not while I could still kiss him again…

And feel him inside me again.

I got up from the bed with a heavy heart and started packing to go to Cefalù.

72

Valentino

Teaching Isabella and Ludavica how to use an iPhone was like trying to teach two time travelers from the 1800s.

It astounded me how little they knew –

But it wasn’t their fault. They’d been closed off from the outside world ever since they were little. Maybe even since they were born.

Anyway, they marveled over how they could see almost anything.

I thought they might start Googling porn – dick pics, maybe –

But they didn’t.

I guess they were too innocent.

Instead, it was all about works of art. Paintings, statutes, that sort of thing.

And pictures of cities – Tokyo, Athens, Moscow.

And cat videos.

They seemed to like those.

“It’s so cute!” Isabella cried out – a lot.

When we finally got to Cefalù, I took the phone back.

“Awwwww!” both girls whined.

“Time to go see the world in person and not on a fuckin’ phone,” I said as I handed it to Paolo.

“…okay,” Isabella grumbled.

Cefalù was a beautiful medieval town on the seaside.

Narrow, winding streets made of cobblestone.

Apartment balconies overhead with brightly colored laundry drying on the railings.

And everywhere you looked, shops for tourists: cafés and restaurants, clothing stores, knick-knack stalls full of tchotchkes.

There were all those shops for tourists because there were tourists everywhere. They thronged the streets, snapping pictures, and stopped off for cappuccinos or glasses of wine.

Isabella and Ludavica alternated between staring at everything in openmouthed wonder and shrinking away from the crowds of people.

It was no wonder they shrank away: there were probably more people in the streets of Cefalù than they’d seen at any one point in their entire lives – except maybe at mafia weddings. Maybe.

I got on one side and positioned Paolo on the other. We ran interference for the girls, acting as bodyguards as we pushed our way through the crowds.

We finally reached a place where the tourists thinned out, and I herded the girls over to a streetside restaurant. We took a table and gave the server our orders, which came out a few minutes later. I had a beer, Paolo had coffee, and both Isabella and Ludavica got glasses of white wine.

“Wow,” Isabella said, her head swiveling around to take it all in.

“What’s it like getting out of the house for the first time?”

“Amazing,” she murmured as she stared around.

She meant it. Though she was clearly overwhelmed by all the people, I could see in her eyes that she was taking in all the little details.

“Oh my gosh – it’s a Testa di Moro!” she cried out.

That’s ‘head of a Moor’ in Italian.

‘Moor’ was the old term for any Muslim from North Africa hundreds of years ago.

“A what?” I asked, looking around.

“Those faces over there! I’ve read about them, but I’ve never actually seen one before!”

Isabella pointed at a nearby shop with a bunch of ceramic pots sculpted to look like human faces, always in pairs.

One was a man with a mustache and a turban, and the other was a beautiful woman, sometimes with a crown.

I’d seen variations of them in tourist shops in Pozzallo and Gela but hadn’t thought to ask about them. Mostly because I hated Rocco and his crew and didn’t want to talk to them.

“What are they?” I asked.

“They’re a Sicilian thing,” Paolo answered.

Isabella nodded. “There’s a couple different legends. One is that back when Sicily was under Arab control – in the 9th and 10th centuries – a Sicilian woman of noble birth had an affair with an Arab man. When her family found out about it, they executed them both and turned their heads into vases as a warning.”

“Jesus,” I said, appalled.

“Forbidden love,” Isabella said with a sigh. “Not looked upon highly by my countrymen.”

“It’s grimmer than the other version,” Ludavica agreed.

“Which is what?” I asked.

“Sicilian woman has an affair with a Moor, but she finds out he’s going back to North Africa – and that he has a wife and a kid he forgot to tell her about. So the Sicilian chick kills him and chops off his head, then turns it into a vase to grow basil.” Ludavica smirked. “I prefer that version.”

“Why?!”

“I prefer just the guy getting his head chopped off instead of the woman.”

“Ugh,” I said.

“You’re awful squeamish,” Ludavica teased me.

I wanted to snap, Yeah, it hits pretty hard after what I saw in the barn yesterday –

But instead I said, “No, you Sicilians are just fucked up.”

Ludavica laughed. “I won’t argue with you on that one.”

“And this is a Sicilian tradition?” I asked.

“Yes,” Isabella said. “People use them in their homes for flower pots.”

“Then why haven’t you ever seen one before?”

She made a wry face. “Papa thinks they’re morbid.”

I laughed darkly. “THAT’S pretty fuckin’ ironic.”

“What are you talking about?”

I stared at her like You CAN’T be THAT stupid.

“Because of what he does for a living?” she asked, then gave me a pshaw. “Your family does it, too.”

I scoffed. “You might wanna ask your father’s former consigliere about it.”

Isabella immediately went pale. “Eliseo?”

“Is that the poor bastard’s name?” I asked. “Eliseo?”

“Eliseo Marconi. What do you know about him?”

I wanted to say, What’s left of him is out in your barn being slowly tortured to death –

But something was off.

Isabella looked like a terrified girl in a horror movie, standing in front of a door in a dark house…

Who knew there was something terrible in the next room and knew it might destroy her…

But was still trying to build up the courage to confront the unthinkable.

Ludavica’s expression confirmed it.

She was practically begging me with her eyes:

Please don’t say anything – PLEASE.

I immediately backed off. “Why – what do you know?”

“Papa said he embezzled a bunch of money and ran off,” Isabella said quietly, her face still pale.

“Yeah… that’s what I heard from Rocco,” I muttered. “That he ran off. But your dad’s trying to find him.”

Color flooded back into Isabella’s face.

Ludavica looked grateful.

Paolo just seemed confused.

But Isabella’s voice was still sadly haunting as she said, “I hope Papa never finds him.”

Too late, I thought, but I kept that to myself.

After the grim detour about Eliseo Marconi, things gradually went back to normal.

After eating lunch, we walked around. The girls went into lots of clothing stores and oohed and aahed over the outfits.

“You know your father would never let you wear any of these,” I cautioned.

“I know, but I can look,” Isabella said grumpily.

Two hours after we arrived, Paolo got a text from Cat.

“Your lady friend, boss,” he said, holding the phone out to me. “She’s at someplace called the Minerva.”

I’m at the Hotel Minerva. Room 404.

I used Google Maps to find it.

It was only seven blocks away and a few blocks north, right on the seaside.

“Alright, thanks,” I said as I handed the phone back to Paolo.

“I’ll see you in the lobby in – how about four hours?” he said.

“Make it five.”

“Oooooooh, somebody’s got stamina,” Ludavica smirked.

I shot her a look like STOP.

“Have fun with your girlfriend,” Isabella teased me.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Your mistress, then.”

“Not my mistress, either.”

“Fuck buddy,” Ludavica chimed in.

“NO – ”

“Your forbidden lover,” Isabella said as she put her clasped hands next to her cheeks.

“I’m leaving now,” I said loudly.

The two girls catcalled me about my ‘lover’ and ‘mistress’ as I walked away.

The last glimpse I caught of Paolo seemed like he was asking, Why ME, God?

I chuckled.

Careful what you wish for, dude –

Like a promotion.

You might just get it.

73

Ifound the Minerva – a tiny hotel, more like the one in Gela than the luxurious cave in Ragusa – and bounded up the stairs.

I knocked on Room 404.

The door opened a crack, and Caterina looked out at me.

“Hey,” she said with a smile…

Though she seemed very subdued.

I pushed my way in, shut the door, and kissed her –

But she wasn’t very passionate as she kissed me back.

I pulled away from her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

She leaned in to kiss me –

“What’s wrong?” I asked again.

“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

“Bullshit. Are you going to tell me, or are we just going to ignore it?”

She looked up at me with a sad but defiant look. “What do you think is wrong?”

I knew.

But the pit of my stomach filled with dread at naming it…

So I lied.

“I think you’re having second thoughts about seeing me.”

She glared at me. “Now who’s slinging bullshit?”

She started to walk away –

But I grabbed her arm and pulled her back to me.

“Let go!” she yelped, trying to fight me off.

I had no choice.

I had to tell her the truth, or I might as well walk out.

If I said nothing, we’d end up wasting what precious time we had.

“It’s because I was going to say ‘I love you’ on the phone, but I stopped myself,” I said. “That’s it, isn’t it.”

She looked at me in shock, tears in her eyes –

And then nodded silently.

My heart suddenly swelled with the same emotion I’d felt hours before.

I started to speak –

Stopped myself –

Fuck, man, don’t do this – DON’T DO THIS –

“I love you,” I said.

Cat immediately burst out sobbing and clasped a hand over her mouth. Then she removed it and smiled as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I love you, too.”

I pulled her to me… wrapped her up in my arms… and just held her as she cried.

After a moment, she asked with a sniffle, “Why didn’t you say it on the phone?”

“Because it makes the whole situation worse.”

She pushed away from my chest so she could look me in the eyes. “What?! Why?!”

“Because we can’t do anything about it,” I said grimly. “In a week and a half, I have to get married. I have to. I have no choice. And it fucking sucks to marry a woman I don’t want, and who doesn’t want me… when I’m in love with the woman I can’t have.”

Cat looked at me a long time in silence.

She finally whispered, “Then why did you turn down Don Rosolini when he said you could marry me instead of her?”

I backed away in horror. “You heard that?!”

“I heard him tell Alessandra about it.”

I felt ashamed –

And guilty as hell –

But I immediately became angry.

Because I couldn’t bear those other feelings.

“You knew and you never told me?!” I asked, enraged. “WHY?!”

Cat stood there looking at me, tears pouring down her cheeks…

And she gave me the saddest smile I’d ever seen.

“It hurt too much to tell you,” she whispered. “And I wanted you so badly.”

That killed me.

It broke my fucking heart.

This woman…

This amazing woman…

She’d known all along about what a piece of shit I was…

And she still wanted me anyway.

My voice broke as I said hoarsely, “I’m sorry… I was a fucking idiot. I’d do anything to go back in time and tell Dario ‘yes.’”

“So do it,” she whispered, taking a step forward. “Tell them you want to marry me and not her.”

“They won’t change their minds.” I scowled. “Niccolo won’t change his mind.’

“Then run away with me!” she begged as she took my hands in hers.

“I can’t.” I felt desperate – like a rat trapped in a barrel slowly filling with water. “Massimo might be dead… Lars, too. We’ve lost all our money, and Roberto hasn’t gotten it back. This thing with Don Vicari might be the only chance we have to stop Uncle Fausto. I can’t run away and leave them in the lurch. I can’t.”

She gave me that sad smile again –

But this time, she cupped my cheek with her hand.

“I know,” she said softly. “I just had to ask.”

“I’m sorry,” I croaked out.

She hesitated. Then…

“I am, too,” she whispered. “But it’s not under our control… so we just have to make the best of it, I guess.”

“How do we do that?” I asked. I was angry at Niccolo, at Don Vicari – at the entire fucking world.

She smiled sadly. “Make love to me… and tell me you love me.”

I pulled her to me.

Half of my heart was filled with grief… and the other half was filled with love.

“I love you,” I whispered. “I love you.”

When I kissed her, I tasted the salt of her tears.

74

Caterina

My heart was breaking…

But it felt so full, too.

He’d said it!

I love you.

And I knew he meant it, with all his heart. I could see it in his eyes.

When he took me to the bed and we undressed each other, his touch and his kisses were tender.

When he laid me back on the mattress, I opened my legs to him –

I opened my soul to him.

He gazed into my eyes as he positioned his body between my thighs…

And I felt the tip of his cock slowly part my lips.

I wasn’t as turned on as I normally was – my heart was definitely in, but the rest of me wasn’t quite on board yet –

And he felt even huger than normal.

“Go slow,” I whimpered. “Please, go slow.”

He did. He withdrew… then eased his head inside me… then pulled out, leaving me wanting more…

And he slowly repeated it, entering just half an inch, teasing me, then pulling out…

Until I was so wet and turned on, I couldn’t bear not having all of him.

“Okay,” I whispered as I clutched his perfect ass in my hands and tried to pull me inside him.

He smiled, knowing he had me. “What do you want?”

“I want all of you,” I groaned.

He gave me what I wanted.

He eased all the way in, deep inside me, the thickness of his cock completely filling me up.

I gasped in pleasure –

And then he made me gasp another way.

“I love you,” he whispered as he rocked gently back and forth inside me.

Tears sprang to my eyes.

“I love you, too,” I whispered.

He kissed me softly…

Then deep and passionate…

As his movements became thrusts, faster and faster.

“I love you,” he murmured.

“I – oh! – I love – OH! – you,” I cried out as every movement brought me closer and closer to orgasm.

“Cat – I love you, Cat – fuck, I love you,” he whispered in my ear as he thrust deep and hard and thick inside me –

“OH – OH – I – I LOVE – OHHHHHHHH – ”

I came more powerfully, more deeply, more intensely than I ever had before –

As he kept whispering I love you in my ear.

We went on like that for nearly half an hour – him bringing me to the heights of ecstasy with both his cock and his words.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I couldn’t get enough.

Of either!

Both his cock, and him saying he loved me.

When he finally got close –

When I could see it in his eyes and hear his shallow breathing –

I had enough presence of mind to say, “I love you, baby – come inside me! Come inside me, Val – I love you, I love you, I – ”

He roared and bellowed, both of us screaming, “I LOVE YOU!” at the same time –

I came at the same time as I felt him explode deep inside me.

Then he collapsed in my arms, body heaving, lungs gasping for breath.

It was the first time we had ever made love.

I mean, really, truly made love.

I just prayed it wouldn’t be the last.

We talked while we rested – about what had happened before I arrived in Cefalù, and if there had been any trouble with the Sicilian mafia boss’s daughter.

“No, she’s having the time of her life,” Val said, then got an impish smile on his face. “You could meet her if you want to.”

I looked at him like he’d just suggested we eat raw sewage. “NO.”

He chuckled, then started teasing me. “She knows all about you, you know.”

I was not amused.

“All about me, huh?” I asked as I poked him. “ALL about me?”

His chuckle turned into a laugh as he tried to ward off my pokes. “No, no – not all about you – ”

“All about me, huh!” I repeated as I started tickling him.

“Watch it, woman,” he growled playfully.

“You watch it!”

Then he started tickling me, and I started shrieking, and it all became a sweaty pile of bodies on the bed.

As we lay there panting, I said, “Val?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t ever ask me about meeting her again. I may have to put up with you marrying her, but I don’t ever want to meet her, or see her, or anything else.”

“…okay,” he said quietly.

We had sex several more times that afternoon. Though it was still fucking fantastic (and fantastic fucking – haha), it never quite reached the same emotional peaks as the first time.

Finally, after our last go-round, I got a text on my phone from Paolo.

We’re in the lobby.

My heart sped up with fear.

WE’RE in the lobby.

As in Paolo…

And the woman Valentino was going to marry.

“Paolo’s in the lobby,” I said, keeping my voice neutral.

“Great,” he said grumpily. “Tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

I sat on the bed and listened as he took a shower, then watched as he came out drying himself off.

He was so gorgeous just walking around naked…

It hurt to think this might be one of the last times I ever got to see it.

“You okay?” he asked with a frown. “I kind of expected you to join me.”

I forced a smile. “If I’d gotten in the shower with you, it would’ve been more than a few minutes.”

“Hmph,” he grunted, then kissed me before he started dressing.

Once he was ready to go, he looked at me and caressed my face.

“I love you,” he murmured.

“I know,” I said.

“Ohhh – it’s gone from ‘I love you, too’ to ‘I know,’ huh?” he said, tickling me again. “Goin’ all Han Solo on me, huh?”

“Stop – STOP!” I shrieked as I laughed. “I love you too, I love you too!”

“You better,” he said as he stopped tickling me and kissed me one last time. Then he pulled away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You better,” I said, a big smile on my face as he winked and pulled the door shut behind him.

Then I let the happy façade drop.

I did love him.

And I was so happy that he’d finally said it!

And yet…

It hurt so much that he wouldn’t do anything about it.

I understood. I did.

I knew he couldn’t go against his family…

But it just killed me that I was the one who would pay the price.

75

Valentino

Ileft Cat’s room feeling vaguely unsettled.

The first part, when I’d walked in the room and she’d been all distant, had sucked.

Then…

When I’d finally had the courage to tell her I love you…

THAT part had gone GREAT.

The sex…

It was fucking mind-blowing.

I’d never felt like that before.

I’d seen a whole new world of emotions in her eyes as she came…

And me?

I’d felt…

Free.

Alive.

In love.

But now…

Leaving her…

Something wasn’t right, and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

When I got down to the lobby, Paolo was waiting for me.

Isabella and Ludavica were in a parlor next to the front door, oohing and aahing over paintings and coffee books laid out in the sitting area.

“Boss…” Paolo said grimly.

“Don’t start,” I warned him.

Isabella looked over, a teasing expression on her face. “Did you – ”

But when she saw my expression, she stopped short.

“Did I what?” I asked gruffly.

“You told her, didn’t you,” she said with a gentle smile.

“Told her what?”

“That you love her.”

That stopped me dead in my tracks.

“How did you know that?” I asked in wonder.

“So you did.”

“…yeah.”

I felt intensely uncomfortable admitting that to the woman I was supposed to marry.

“Good,” Isabella said with a little smile, like she approved… although for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“I could just tell.”

“You got that from reading books?”

“…yeah,” she said, and her smile turned mysterious.

Then she and Ludavica walked out the door and headed for the SUV, with me and Paolo following along behind them.

76

Despite Paolo being a worrywart, nothing bad happened. We got home in plenty of time.

At dinner, Don Vicari asked, “Did you enjoy your day out?”

Isabella started talking his ear off about Cefalù – the buildings, the restaurants, the ocean breezes, everything.

The old guy barely paid attention to her. He just grunted Mm-hm and That’s nice.

I think she was so high from her experience that she didn’t notice. Or didn’t care.

She just beamed like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.

“Can we go to another town tomorrow?” she asked eagerly.

“I suppose,” he said as he continued to cut his meat.

“Where?”

“I’ll talk with your fiancé after dinner.”

After dinner, Isabella almost went skipping out of the dining room.

The old lady came up and beamed as she patted my cheek.

“You a good boy,” she said, then followed her great-granddaughter.

Don Vicari had a slightly different reaction.

“I don’t care where you go tomorrow, just as long as I don’t have to hear every goddamn detail,” he said crankily as he walked out of the room.

Fuckin’ bastard.

Still…

We had his permission to keep going on.

That’s all I needed.

So that’s how we got to see Messina, on the northeastern tip of Sicily… and Augusta… and Santa Maria del Focallo.

Isabella and Ludavica were like two kids in a candy store.

They visited every museum, saw every famous landmark, and basked in the sunshine in outdoor cafés.

For the first time, they were truly experiencing freedom – and they enjoyed every second of it.

I can’t say I was experiencing freedom, exactly…

But every town we visited, I got to see Cat.

That was enough for me.

She was always happy when I first arrived – but I could tell she was having a harder and harder time as the days went by.

As the wedding approached.

I didn’t ask her what was wrong because I already knew.

We just held each other and made love…

And tried to ignore the disaster just over the horizon.

Speaking of the wedding, I asked Isabella where we were going to be married.

I was expecting a big church. Maybe a cathedral in Palermo, so Don Vicari could show off how rich and powerful he was.

I hadn’t seen any big preparations taking place – no flower orders, no futzing over the reception menu, no drama about the wedding dress – but I figured he had people handling it behind the scenes.

So I was surprised when Isabella said, “At the chapel outside Resuttano.”

“…Resuttano?”

I’d never heard of it.

Isabella smiled at my puzzlement. “It’s a little place about five miles from here. There’s a chapel on the outskirts of the village. Papa and Mama got married there. So did my Papa’s parents, and Bisnonna, too.”

Bisnonna was her great-grandmother – the 91-year-old who kept calling me ‘good boy.’

“That’s where we’re getting married?” I asked in shock. “A chapel in a village?”

“Well, yeah. Rocco, Abriana, and Marcella all got married there. Why – did you want something bigger?” she asked with a frown.

“No – no, that’s great.”

But I still double-checked with Don Vicari at dinner.

“I understand we’ll be getting married in the chapel outside Resuttano.”

“That’s right,” he said, not even looking up from his veal parmigiana.

“So… not a big church.”

“Yes,” he said contemptuously, “chapels tend not to be very big.”

I ignored his snark. “Who’s coming?”

“Your family.”

“No one else?” I asked in surprise.

“Nonna,” he said, gesturing to his grandmother. “Plus Rocco, my other two daughters, and their families. Why, were you expecting someone?”

“Well, it’s just… normally, a ton of other families show up.”

By ‘families,’ I meant the Cosa Nostra.

The people who controlled cities like Rome, Milan, and Venice.

Don Vicari smirked. “Did they show up at your brother’s wedding? Not Don Rosolini’s – the other one.”

He meant Adriano’s.

Virtually nobody had gone to Adriano’s wedding, and Don Vicari knew it. Other than Alessandra’s long-lost grandmother from Genoa, every single Cosa Nostra family had believed we’d slaughtered the Agrellas, our longtime business partners in Florence.

In reality, it was a gangster named Mezzasalma, with my Uncle Fausto backing him from the shadows. But the entire Cosa Nostra thought we’d betrayed them, and they stayed away because of it.

“No,” I answered. “They didn’t go to Adriano’s wedding.”

“So why would they show up at yours?”

“I thought they might show up at your daughter’s,” I said coldly.

“Well, she’s marrying you… and in case you haven’t noticed, your family’s still in bad odor with the rest of the families.” Then he shrugged. “Fuck ‘em. They never came to the weddings Papa invited them to, so I never invited them when I took over.”

“Language,” the old lady snapped.

“Sorry, Nonna,” he said.

“So… just our two families at a chapel outside Resuttano,” I clarified.

“That’s it,” Don Vicari said, and gave me that cold, chilling smile.

I knew where the disaster would be: outside Resuttano.

And I knew when it would happen: in less than ten days.

So the only thing left was to enjoy what little time I had left with Cat.

I threw myself into it with a sense of desperation – and so did she.

We savored every minute… often staring at each other wordlessly, smiling sadly, as we lay in each other’s arms after sex.

Despite the disaster on the horizon, we were happy for a few hours each day.

In Messina…

And Augusta…

And Santa Maria del Focallo.

Then we went to Ortigia.

That’s when everything changed.

77

First we went to Siracusa – Syracuse in English. It’s a seaport in the southeast.

Isabella was all excited. Syracuse is apparently one of the oldest cities in Sicily, with a history stretching back to the ancient Greeks.

We had a boring morning looking at ruins in a giant park, which Isabella couldn’t get enough of –

And then we went to Ortigia, where I was meeting Cat.

Ortigia was a small island off the coast of Syracuse, with a single bridge connecting it to the mainland. Though there were plenty of thousand-year-old buildings, it also had the feel of a beach resort town.

The west side of Ortigia looked out on a bay filled with sailboats.

Along the walkway bordering the water, restaurants served Aperol spritzes and massive seafood platters under shaded canopies.

One hotel even had a bayside sunning deck complete with a DJ spinning dance music.

The place was jammed with tourists and felt like a fucking party.

“Whoa,” Isabella said as she stared at the throngs of people.

I knew she was overwhelmed. Ortigia was by far the most crowded place we’d been in, even more than Cefalù.

“You alright?” I asked.

“I’m fine,” she reassured me.

“I love it,” Ludavica said. She was bobbing her head along to the DJ’s set.

“We can go someplace a little less jampacked,” I offered, ignoring the dirty look Ludavica gave me.

“No – I love the sailboats,” Isabella said as she stared out dreamily at the bay. “I’ve read about them all my life, but I’ve never seen one. Except in drawings in books.”

Jesus.

To live an entire life without ever seeing a sailboat – not even on TV –

It was hard for me to comprehend.

Me, the girls, and Paolo got a seat in a restaurant so Isabella could have a view of the bay. And we were out of the broiling summer sun, so that was a plus.

Paolo checked his phone.

“You got a text, boss. She’s at the Locanda dell’Ortigia,” he said, then held it out to me.

I read the rest of Cat’s message:

Locanda dell’Ortigia, Room 301. Meet you out front – the view is amazing!

I checked Google Maps on Paolo’s phone and saw the hotel was on the waterfront on the opposite side of the island.

“See you guys later,” I said as I gave Paolo back his phone.

“Enjoy your sex,” Ludavica taunted me.

Isabella tried to shush her but laughed in spite of herself.

“I will – thanks,” I said with a smile as I walked off.

I cut through the sandstone-colored buildings in the center of the island until I got to Ortigia’s eastern shore.

Things were a lot more subdued on this side. No tchotchke shops or tourist-packed restaurants. In fact, almost no restaurants at all, despite the wide-open view of the Mediterranean.

Most of the buildings were centuries old and had been renovated into hotels or living spaces, so there were only a few tourists here and there. Most of them were heading for the hotspots on the west side.

I walked along the sidewalk that bordered the Mediterranean.

To my left was a one-way street with cars parked on both sides of the road – probably local residents. There was hardly any traffic.

To my right was an iron railing that protected you from falling 20 feet into the water below.

I passed a couple of stairs leading down to the ‘beach,’ if you could call it that. It was mostly a bunch of giant, craggy rocks next to the ancient seawall that surrounded the entire island.

A ring of boulders farther out in the water formed a breakwater – enough that you could swim without getting tossed around by the waves.

I saw one guy swimming laps while a girl took selfies on one of the giant rocks.

Other than that, it was deserted.

As I was looking down at the water, I heard a voice.

“Hey, hot stuff!”

I looked and saw Caterina on the other side of the street.

I grinned and immediately started towards her –

“Wait, hold on,” she said, and crossed over to me instead.

We kissed by the iron railing, the waters of the Mediterranean lapping down below us.

Then she rested her head on my chest so she could look out at the view.

“Isn’t it beautiful here?” she murmured.

“It is.”

“We’ve got a window that looks out over the sea. It’s spectacular!”

“Let’s go up and see it,” I said, a seductive tone in my voice.

She grinned. “I wanted to look at it out here because I knew that as soon as we up to the room, you’ll have me naked and in bed in 30 seconds flat.”

“Probably true,” I admitted as I squeezed her ass.

After a few seconds of passionate kissing, she took my hand.

“Okay, enough of the view. I want to have sex,” she said as she led me across the street.

I chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”

And it wasn’t true – it didn’t take 30 seconds to get her naked and in bed.

It took 67.

I counted.

I was deep inside Cat and on my way to making her come the first time –

When I heard rapid knocking at the door.

“What the fuck?!” I exclaimed.

“Was I too loud?” Caterina whispered, mortified. “It is the middle of the day…”

“You’re fine – WHO’S THERE?!” I yelled angrily.

I’d put out the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign, so if it was Room Service, I was going to kick somebody’s ass.

“Boss, I’m sorry to interrupt,” came Paolo’s muffled voice, “but we got a big problem!”

“Goddammit,” I muttered as I pulled out of Cat and walked towards the door. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s Isabella – something bad happened, boss!”

SHIT.

My head filled with visions of Don Vicari torturing me in his barn.

I was so unnerved I didn’t even bother to put a robe on.

I just opened the door a crack so I could hear Paolo better. “What ha– ”

WHAM!

The door slammed into my face – and my cock.

I staggered backwards as stars filled my vision and pain filled my crotch.

“WHAT THE FUCK!”

Then I looked up to see Paolo standing there with his revolver pointed in my face.

Except it wasn’t the old, nervous, shit-eating Paolo.

This guy’s eyes were cold –

And his expression was even colder.

“Get over there by the bed,” he commanded as he slammed the door behind him.

Caterina screamed and pulled the sheet over her exposed body.

Paolo swung the gun over towards her. “Shut the fuck UP, bitch!”

Caterina immediately dropped from a scream to a whimper.

While the pistol was pointed at her, I calculated whether it was better to play it safe or lunge at him.

If I went for the gun, it could go off and Caterina could get hit –

So I decided not to do anything.

Not that I could have, because Paolo took a quick step back and aimed at me again.

“Don’t go getting any crazy ideas, asshole. Now get over by the bed.”

I backed up until I was against the mattress.

Paolo’s eyes drifted down below my waist –

“Jesus Christ, some guys get all the fuckin’ luck,” he muttered, then looked me in the eyes again. “Put on some fuckin’ clothes.”

“Just point that thing somewhere else, will you?” I growled as I picked up my pants and stepped into them.

“I could say the same to you,” he joked, then glanced at Cat. “With a pipe like that, I can see why you keep coming after him like a crack whore.” He looked her up and down lecherously. “And why he likes his little crack whore. Damn.”

Rage consumed me. “DON’T YOU FUCKING TALK TO HER LIKE – ”

“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” he interrupted. “I’m the one in charge here, not you.”

“What happened to Isabella?” I asked angrily.

Paolo laughed. “Nothin’. She’s still out there with that other chick, pointin’ at sailboats like a fuckin’ moron.”

Shit.

He’d tricked me…

And I’d never seen it coming.

“This is a shakedown,” I said bitterly, finally realizing what was going on. “Just like Rocco does for his father.”

“I guess you could call it that. Though you’re gonna have to cough up a lot more than some two-bit drug dealer.”

I cursed myself silently.

I’d known Paolo was a traitor to Don Vicari –

But I hadn’t thought he’d be a traitor to me.

I’d let myself be lulled into a sense of false security, thinking he’d be happy with whatever cash Alessandra had thrown his way.

As much as I hated Niccolo, I had to admit, he never would have let this happen to him.

He never would’ve let his guard down, and he would’ve seen it coming from a mile away.

“I h-have some cash,” Caterina said miserably as she pointed at her purse on the dresser.

Paolo rifled through it while keeping his gun on me.

“Not bad,” he said as he pulled out the money and stuffed it in his pocket. “But that’s chump change compared to what you’re gonna pay next.”

“That’s all we’ve got,” I snarled. “We don’t have anymore.”

“Maybe you don’t, but that sister-in-law of yours does.”

Alessandra.

He means Alessandra.

Paolo threw Cat’s purse at me. Despite being caught off-guard, I caught it.

“Now get out the phone and call her,” Paolo ordered.

“My family’s broke, you idiot. My uncle stole all our money – ”

“Then how the fuck did she pay me 50 large? And I’d watch who you call idiot, IDIOT, seein’ as I’m the one who’s got the fuckin’ GUN.”

“It was her grandmother that paid you, not my sister-in-law,” I said. “Another family in Geno.”

“I don’t care who pays me, but somebody’s fuckin’ payin’ me. So here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna call her up and get her to send me one million euros in Bitcoin – ”

“One MILLION?!” I shouted.

“Yeah, or Don Vicari’s gonna find out where you been stickin’ your dick all week. I’m guessin’ he’s not gonna be too happy about it.”

“Did you stop and think what he’s going to do to you once he realizes you went behind his back?” I asked.

For the first time, Paolo’s face showed uncertainty.

He obviously hadn’t considered what to do if I said ‘no.’

He’d just automatically assumed I would pay up.

Which meant he was a moron with a half-baked plan.

Except that means you got played by a moron, said a voice in my head that sounded like Niccolo.

Fuck off, I told the voice. I’m handling it.

It took Paolo a second, but he finally recovered.

“If you don’t pay, then I kill you. Or maybe I’ll kneecap you so you can’t walk, then call Don Vicari after I’ve gotten the hell out of Sicily. Let him finish the job.”

I must have twitched, because Paolo gave me a sadistic grin. “Yeah, I noticed you didn’t tell Isabella about what Don Vicari’s doin’ to Eliseo out in the barn. What was that all about? Tryin’ to save her from finding out Daddy’s a stone-cold psycho?

“Or maybe I’ll just shoot off your cock and fuck your bitch in front of you while you bleed out. Show her what she’s been missin’.”

He leered at Caterina though he kept the pistol pointed at me. “What do you say about that, sugar tits? Ready for a real good time?”

That was it.

That last part –

Him talking to Caterina like that –

I fucking lost it.

I acted on instinct –

Instinct honed by hundreds of hours training with Lars.

Paolo’s gun was pointed at me, so even if it went off, she wasn’t in danger.

Just me.

While Paolo was still eyeing Cat, I threw the purse out from my chest like a basketball.

The bag was heavy enough that when it slammed into Paolo’s face, his head jerked back.

“WHA– ”

Before he could get the word out, I was already on him.

I grabbed the revolver in his hand first.

That was the most important thing – to stop him from firing.

Not only so he wouldn’t kill me, but so nobody would hear and come running.

I clamped a hand against the revolver’s hammer.

The fool hadn’t cocked it.

Even if he tried to pull the trigger, the hammer wouldn’t be able to move –

And if the hammer couldn’t move, the gun couldn’t fire.

Paolo struggled, but he was still disoriented by getting hit in the face.

That’s when I dropped down with all my weight pulling on his forearm –

And slammed his elbow across my bent knee.

I heard his arm CRACK as it bent in a direction Nature never intended.

He screamed in agony –

But by then I’d knocked the gun out of his hand. It went clattering across the marble floor.

Paolo swung at my head with his left fist.

He didn’t land a solid punch, but even the glancing blow made me see stars.

I slipped behind him so I could use a chokehold to cut off his air.

I couldn’t take the chance that anyone would hear him scream again.

The fucker had just tried to blackmail me –

And threatened to rape the woman I loved.

So he was going to die.

As I put him in a chokehold, he reached over his head, trying to grab at me –

But I kicked his knees from behind.

His legs buckled –

And I SLAMMED his head into the tile floor.

Dazed, he stopped struggling for a couple of seconds.

A couple of seconds was all I needed.

I dragged him across the floor and into the bathroom, just five feet away –

Then plunged his head into the toilet.

When he realized what was going on, he tried to fight back –

But I stood up, grabbed his shoulders, planted a knee in the center of his back –

And forced his face underwater.

He screamed, but it came out as bubbles and a muffled “Bllrrbbb!”

I bore down with all my weight and stayed clear of his one good arm as it flailed around.

His other arm was bent sickeningly at the elbow where I’d broken it.

He stopped screaming –

Then started choking as he involuntarily inhaled water.

Within twenty seconds, his body began jerking uncontrollably as he drowned to death.

I waited another full minute until the spasms ceased and he was still as a rock.

I finally backed away, sweat pouring down my chest and back.

I didn’t realize how strenuous that had been –

How hard it was –

To kill him.

I killed him!

I stared at the body in horror.

It wasn’t that it was my first time. I’d killed other people before.

But I’d always shot them.

Cold – impersonal – at a distance.

Never with my bare hands.

And never somebody I’d actually known –

Even if they were a piece of shit who’d betrayed me for money.

I stared down at Paolo’s lifeless body and tried to get a handle on my emotions.

Then I heard Caterina wail behind me.

I ran to her and put my hands on her arms. “Are you okay?!”

She nodded as tears streamed down her face. “Y-yes – are YOU okay?!”

“I’m fine,” I said as I pulled her into a hug.

Then, slowly, I began to realize the consequences of what I’d just done.

“…oh fuck…” I whispered.

“What?”

“Fuck – FUCK!” I swore as I stood and started pacing.

“What’s wrong?!”

“How the fuck am I supposed to explain this to Don Vicari?!”

“I don’t – oh,” Caterina said, her eyes widening as she realized just how much shit we were in.

First problem:

I’d just killed a man.

Self-defense or murder, it didn’t matter –

I now had a dead body on my hands.

The bigger problem:

Don Vicari could never know about Paolo’s death.

Because if he found out where it happened, he’d know I was fucking someone other than his daughter.

Then he’d want to know why it happened.

I mean, it wasn’t like I was just going to kill a guy randomly in a hotel room.

If Vicari got Paolo’s phone, he would find the texts and phone calls leading to Alessandra –

And Cat.

I turned around in horror. “Did you rent the room under your own name?”

“Y-yes?” she whimpered, like Why is that so horrible?

FUCK!

I grimaced. “If you paid under your real name, that means we can’t just leave the body and run for it.”

“Because the cops would find out,” she murmured.

“I’m more worried about Don Vicari finding out.”

She struggled to think of a solution. “What if – what if I paid for another two weeks and left the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door?”

“It wouldn’t matter. Somebody would eventually smell him and come looking.”

“…oh my God… I’m so sorry, Val…”

I laughed darkly. “Babe, it’s not your fault – it’s mine for trusting that fucking piece of shit.”

“But I trusted him, too.”

“Yeah, but I knew he was a piece of shit, and I didn’t keep my eye on him. This is all my fault, not yours.”

I had to figure out what to do – and quick.

More than anything, I wanted to call my brothers –

But then I’d have to explain what I’d been doing with Cat.

I couldn’t risk telling them.

Not Dario…

And especially not Niccolo.

This was my mess, and I was going to have to get us out of it.

“What can I do to help?” Caterina whispered.

I looked back at her, and suddenly my heart swelled.

This woman I’d put in so much danger –

She was asking how she could help.

What we could do. Together.

“Let me think for a second and I’ll figure it out,” I said reassuringly, then kissed her.

As I paced back and forth, the pieces came together slowly…

And there were a few things that would depend on luck…

But I had a plan.

First I went over to Paolo’s body and rifled through his pockets.

“What are you doing?” Cat asked.

“Getting your money back,” I said as I pulled out the cash he’d taken.

I kept some for anything I might need to buy over the next several hours, then put the remainder back in her purse.

Cat made a face – probably because she’d now have to touch money I’d pulled off a corpse – but she didn’t say anything.

I took Paolo’s phone in case I needed it.

I dumped his wallet and keys on the floor.

I used a washcloth to wipe off the gun so my fingerprints wouldn’t be on it.

Then I sat on the bed next to Cat and explained what was going to happen next.

I had to hide Paolo’s body where no one would find it.

I had to make it look like he’d run for it.

I had to destroy his phone so they couldn’t trace it…

And I had to get rid of his gun.

“I need to ask you something, though. It’s going to suck, but I need you to do it, or this whole thing could fall apart.”

“…what?” she whispered.

“I need you to stay here with the body and make sure nobody comes in.”

“WHAT?! Val, no – ”

“We have to make sure nobody from the hotel comes in and finds him. If they do, it’ll be all over the news, your name will be out there, Don Vicari will find out – ”

“Why can’t you stay?” she whimpered.

“Because somebody has to tell Isabella what’s going on. We need her help, or we’re fucked just as bad as if a housekeeper finds the body.” I paused. “I mean, I suppose I could describe her to you… but then you’d have to go out and – ”

“No,” Cat said, her voice suddenly flinty. “No, I’ll… I’ll stay here.”

“You don’t want to meet her,” I said, remembering what she’d told me days ago.

“No,” she said coldly. “I don’t.”

Fuck.

Since I wasn’t attracted to Isabella in the slightest, I didn’t see her as anything but the sweet, sad daughter of a psychopathic gangster –

But that’s obviously not how Cat thought of her.

The fact that she’d rather stay with a dead body than meet Isabella made it crystal clear.

“I’m sorry, babe,” I murmured. “About everything.”

“Please… just hurry.”

“I will,” I promised, then kissed her.

78

Caterina

After Val left, I quickly got dressed.

I tried dragging a wardrobe in front of the door, but it was too heavy –

So I leaned a wooden chair underneath the doorknob.

I’d seen it done in movies and TV shows.

I hoped it would keep people from opening the door –

But at the very least, I figured it would make a racket and warn me.

That was the only chair in the room, though, so I sat on the bed as far away from the body as I could get.

I could still see the dead man’s shoes sticking out of the small bathroom.

I should have paid for a larger room with a bigger bathroom, I thought –

And laughed.

The man I loved had just killed someone –

And I was thinking, If I only had a bigger bathroom to hide the corpse!

I didn’t feel bad about the dead guy at all.

As far as I was concerned, as soon as he pulled a gun on Valentino, he deserved to die.

I wasn’t even freaked out that Val had killed him.

When it happened, I’d felt –

Relief.

Joy.

Anger – like GET HIM!

And… strangest of all…

A little turned on.

Like, This man is willing to kill for me.

I know it should have horrified me that Val had just killed a man –

But it made me want him even more.

Not like I wanted to throw him down on the bed and jump him right then and there –

But it made me WANT him.

To be with me and only me…

Forever.

And when he held me afterwards?

I felt safer and more protected than I ever had in my life.

I couldn’t really explain it.

All I knew was that I wanted Val to get back as soon as possible…

And I never wanted him to leave.

But I knew he would. Eventually.

I thought about what he’d said –

About me about going to find his fiancée.

I mean, I suppose I could describe her to you, but then you’d have to go out and –

My skin crawled at the thought.

I didn’t even know what she looked like, and I didn’t want to know.

As long as she was just a name, then it was almost like she wasn’t real.

I could pretend she was just some character in a story.

But the idea of meeting her?

The woman who was going to get him instead of me?

Who was going to make love to him for the rest of his life –

Wake up to him in the morning –

And have his children?

If it was a choice between her and staying with a corpse, I preferred the dead body.

79

Valentino

Iran back to the east side of Ortigia – back to the tourists and sunbathers and people who didn’t have a care in the world.

I found Isabella and Ludavica in the same spot I’d left them. They were laughing and drinking white wine as they ate fried calamari.

Isabella looked at me in surprise. “Why are you back so early?”

“He ran out of steam and needed some oysters for stamina,” Ludavica joked.

“Lu!” Isabella scolded her but laughed all the same. “Where’s Paolo? He said he had to talk to you.”

I sat down opposite them, leaned over the table, and motioned them to come close enough that no one around us could hear.

“I need you to NOT react when I tell you something,” I whispered. “Do you understand?”

Both Isabella and Ludavica nodded nervously.

“I’m serious,” I growled.

“We’ll be quiet,” Isabella promised.

Ludavica nodded. “Promise.”

“Alright.” I paused. “Paolo’s dead.”

Both girls’ eyes widened in shock, but they stayed true to their word: neither gasped or cried out.

“What happened?” Isabella asked.

“He tried to blackmail me for a million euros.”

“What?!”

“Yeah. He said either my family paid him, or he was going to tell your father about me and Caterina.”

The color drained from Isabella’s face. “Does that mean… that you were the one who…”

She trailed off, but I knew where she was going.

You were the one who killed him.

I nodded.

Isabella was silent for a moment.

I thought she was going to freak out – start screaming and call me a murderer –

But instead she asked, “Is Caterina okay?”

Her concern for Cat touched me.

The fact that she was even thinking about her revealed a lot about who Isabella was deep down.

“She’s fine,” I said. “But we have a big problem.”

“‘We’?” Ludavica asked angrily.

“Lu,” Isabella hissed.

Ludavica shut up.

“What’s the big problem?” Isabella asked me.

“I need to make sure he disappears, if you get my drift.”

Isabella frowned. “Can’t you just tell Papa he attacked you?”

“In a hotel room? Registered in Caterina’s name?”

“…oh. Yeah, I guess that won’t work.” Isabella got a look of grim determination on her face. “What do you need us to do?”

“Stay here at the restaurant. Just keep ordering food and drinking,” I said as I pulled out three hundred euros and laid them on the table.

“That’s all you want us to do?”

“Yes – but you’re going to have to keep doing it until after dark.”

Ludavica’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a long time.”

“Yeah, but I can’t do anything until it gets dark.”

“What are you going to do?” Isabella asked.

“The less you know, the better. Do you have a phone number to call your father?”

Isabella looked surprised. “Yes, but do you really think that’s a good – ”

“Don’t call it. Not until I tell you I’m ready.”

“Why would we call him at all? Can’t you just drive the three of us back home?”

“I have to make it look like Paolo ran. If he ran, he wouldn’t leave us the keys.”

“…oh. Yeah, that would look suspicious. But why can’t we help?”

“Because when your father asks you questions, I need you to be able to lie.”

“I can lie to my father easier than you think,” Isabella said.

Yeah, right.

“I need you to lie convincingly, and it’ll be easier if you just stay here all night. You can say Paolo told you he had to take a call, then he left and never came back. The servers will be your alibi. If anybody asks them, they’ll say you were here the whole time.”

“What about you, though?” Isabella asked. “Where are you going to say you were, if you weren’t here with us?”

I grimaced. “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“We can help,” Isabella said.

“Speak for yourself,” Ludavica grumbled.

Isabella shot her an angry look.

Ludavica rolled her eyes – but she didn’t say anything else.

Isabella looked back at me. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“For right now, stay here. I’ll come back if I need you.”

“Okay,” Isabella said quietly. “By the way, do you have him on his back or his front?”

I frowned. “What difference does that make?”

“Lividity. Gravity’s going to pull all the blood in his body to the lowest point. If you have him facedown, his face is going to turn purple.”

“…oh,” I said uneasily.

Paolo’s face being purple could potentially fuck up my plans.

“How long ago did you – uh, did all this happen?” Isabella asked.

“About half an hour. Why?”

“Because rigor mortis starts to set in one to two hours after death. After eight hours, he’ll be stiff as a board.”

“Shit,” I snarled.

That would definitely fuck up my plans.

I wished I was back home in Tuscany, where nobody cared about lividity and rigor mortis and shit like that. You just dug a hole in the olive groves and threw the asshole in.

“How do you know all this stuff?” I asked.

I figured she’d learned it from her father –

But I was wrong.

“I read a lot of murder mysteries. How were you planning on moving him?”

“I don’t think this is a good – ”

“You didn’t know about lividity or rigor mortis,” she interrupted. “You might be overlooking something else.”

She had a point.

“Well?” she prodded.

“Ever seen Weekend At Bernie’s?”

Her face twisted in confusion. “…what?”

“It’s a movie – never mind. I was going to grab a bottle of wine, pretend we were drunk, take him out to the water, go for a swim, and then weigh him down with rocks.”

“Eh – that’s risky,” Isabella said, like she was weighing the pros and cons of how to patch a tire. “If anybody sees you up close, it’s over.”

“That’s why I was going to wait until dark.”

“People could still see you, though.”

“Which is why I was going to have Cat provide a distraction.”

“Not bad… but I think it’d be better if you find a luggage shop, buy the biggest suitcase you can, cram him inside before rigor mortis sets in, and take it down to the water with you.”

“People aren’t going to think it’s weird I’m taking a suitcase down to the water?”

“Take a look around you,” she said. “Seriously – take a look.”

I turned to glance at the tourists strolling by.

In the crowd of hundreds, I saw at least six people wheeling suitcases behind them.

“This island is full of people heading to and from hotels,” Isabella said. “Nobody’s going to think twice if they see you pulling a suitcase around. But if they see you dragging around a guy who’s stiff as a board, they’re definitely going to have questions.”

Crap.

She was right.

“What about getting the suitcase down to the water, though?” I asked. “I’ve got to go down a bunch of stairs to get there.”

“I thought you said Caterina was going to provide a distraction.”

SHIT.

Everything Isabella was saying made sense.

“Be sure to get a suitcase with wheels,” she added. “It’ll be way easier to move him. And I’d get a hard shell – something that can’t get ripped on the rocks.”

“Okay,” I muttered.

“Leave a bit of the zipper open so water can get in. You don’t want it to start floating because of air trapped inside. Actually, maybe you should let it float until you get it out into deeper water, then open the zipper a few inches so water can get in. Once it’s deep enough, put a few rocks inside just to be sure.”

“I was going to weigh him down,” I grumbled.

I mean, I had thought of some things.

Isabella ignored my petulant tone; she was figuring out the specifics. “After you leave here, get the suitcase first. Don’t waste any time, because rigor mortis is going to set in fast.

“Once you’ve taken care of that, go buy two new sets of clothes and shoes – as close to what you’re wearing right now as you can find.”

“Why?!”

“The Mediterranean’s crystal clear. It won’t be an issue at night, but if you stow the suitcase too close to shore, people will be able to see it during the daytime.

“Which means you’re going to have to swim out far enough so nobody can see it – which means you’ll be drenched from head to toe. And people will remember a fully dressed, dripping-wet guy coming up out of the water.

“So you need one set of clothing to take the suitcase out into the water… and you need a dry set to change into before you walk back to the hotel.”

“Why can’t I just change into these clothes?” I asked, pulling at my shirt.

“Because you can’t have any salt water on them. My father might smell it when he questions you. Once you’ve had a shower, you can change back into these clothes and throw the wet ones away.”

“…oh.”

I had to admit, I was impressed. She’d thought through every angle – way more than I had.

She’d make a fucking great consigliere.

“By the way,” she said, “buy a suitcase that’s black, or gray, or a neutral color so it won’t look out of place on the seabed. Nothing red or orange. You don’t want it to be easy to see from the surface.”

“You sure you don’t do this professionally?” I asked in amusement.

“Like I said, I’ve read a lot of murder mysteries.”

“Alright… I guess I’m going with your plan.”

Hers was a hell of a lot better than Weekend At Bernie’s.

“Don’t forget to get rid of his license and anything else with his name on it, like credit cards,” Isabella whispered. “Wipe everything off before you ditch them so your fingerprints aren’t on them. And from what I’ve heard Papa say about cell phones, you need to remove the battery so the police can’t trace it.”

I’d already thought about that, but I thanked her anyway.

“Let us know if you need help with the distraction part,” she offered.

I nodded as I stood up. “Will do.”

“Good luck,” Isabella said with a sympathetic smile.

“Thanks.”

I was going to need it.

80

Idid everything Isabella said.

I checked Google Maps on Paolo’s phone, found a luggage store within walking distance, and bought the biggest hardshell suitcase they had – a monster with wheels and a collapsible handle.

When I got back to the room, I knocked on the door. “Cat, it’s me.”

When she opened it, her face was full of relief.

We hugged as soon I shut the door and locked it –

But she immediately asked, “What’s that for?”

“For moving him.”

“That’s how you’re getting him out of here?”

“Yeah,” I said, deciding not to tell her where the plan came from.

Cat hovered by the door, a terrified look on her face, as I unzipped the suitcase and laid it next to Paolo’s corpse.

“…do you… do you need me to help?” she asked timidly.

“I think I’ve got it.”

I hooked my arms under his armpits and heaved him into the air. Or tried, anyway.

Christ!

I figured he was about 170 pounds. I could deadlift 450 and bench 300, but trying to handle a corpse was harder. Dead weight was limp like a sack of jelly.

At least rigor mortis hadn’t set him.

But lividity had.

Cat cried out as I lifted him.

“What?!” I asked.

“His face…” she said, cringing.

I looked in the mirror. Paolo’s face was already mottled purple.

Isabella had been right.

Let’s hope she’s right about the rest of it, too.

I wrestled the body into one half of the suitcase and tucked his arms, legs, and head inside until he was in a fetal position.

His wallet was on the floor with his keys, right where I’d tossed them earlier.

I took everything out – especially his driver’s license and credit cards – and wiped down the wallet and keys before tossing them in the suitcase with him.

I supposed if I really wanted to make sure they couldn’t identify him, I’d pull out his teeth and cut off his fingertips…

But I wasn’t gonna be that hardcore about it.

If I got lucky, it would be months before he was found.

That would be enough.

I wiped down the pistol and tossed it in.

Then I pulled his cell phone out of my pocket and turned it off.

I had no idea how to get the battery out, so I just hit the screen against the corner of the sink until it shattered, then bent the phone completely out of shape. I wiped it down and threw it in with the body.

Then I zipped the suitcase and struggled to get it upright.

It was going to be a shitshow getting this thing down the stairs…

But I was thankful I’d talked it out with Isabella.

At least I wouldn’t have to do Weekend at Bernie’s with a body that was stiff as a board.

“What do we do now?” Caterina whispered.

“We wait.”

I sat on the bed and held her in my arms.

While I did, I told her what I needed for the distraction.

“Can you do that?” I asked.

“I – I think so. But what happens after you get rid of him?”

“You’ve got to get out of Ortigia. Go back to Ragusa or Cefalù.”

“How do I get in touch with you?”

“Talk to Alessandra. I’ll call her, too – she can be our go-between.”

Cat looked at me in a panic. “This is the last time I’m going to see you, isn’t it?”

“No,” I insisted, but I couldn’t be sure.

I had no idea if I was even going to survive this.

If Don Vicari found out what I had done…

Caterina buried her face in my chest. “I can’t lose you! I can’t!”

“You won’t,” I whispered as I stroked her hair. “We’ll figure something out. I promise.”

“You could run away with me,” she pleaded. “Right now.”

Her offer was more tempting than ever before –

But I knew that if I ran, Don Vicari would hunt me down.

Then he’d go after my brothers.

Instead of only fighting Uncle Fausto, they’d be battling Vicari, too.

And despite all the fucked-up shit Fausto had pulled, I was pretty sure Don Vicari was worse.

I still might have done it – run away with her –

But if Don Vicari found me, he would find Cat, too.

And there was no telling what he might do to her.

I flashed back to the nightmare in the barn –

And immediately pushed it out of my head.

“No,” I whispered. “No… it’s all going to be just fine.”

I doubted I convinced her, seeing as I couldn’t even convince myself.

81

Ihad more to do before dark.

Cat was so freaked out by the body that I sent her to buy clothes for me instead.

While she was out, I had her drop Paolo’s ID and credit cards in separate sewer grates, careful to wipe off her prints before she ditched them.

She returned an hour later with a duffel bag. Inside were two sets of shirts, pants, and shoes that closely resembled what I was wearing.

I changed into the first set of clothes, stashed the second set in the duffel bag, and threw in a towel from the hotel.

Then I waited until half an hour after sunset –

Which was already fucking late at 8:30 PM.

Ordinarily, we would have been back at Don Vicari’s by 6.

He probably started calling Paolo’s phone around 6:30…

And then it was a two-hour drive from his home to Ortigia.

I just prayed he hadn’t already sent his men to search for Isabella.

Because if he had, and they found me before I got rid of the body…

I was fucked.

Once it was dark enough, I sent Caterina outside to wait for me.

If I got arrested, I didn’t want her to get caught, too.

Then I moved the body.

There wasn’t an elevator, so I only had one other option.

I strained to keep the suitcase semi-upright as the wheels dropped from stair to marble stair.

CLACK!

CLACK!

CLACK!

Luckily, only two people passed me on the stairs.

They gave me a glance but didn’t pause to talk.

Five minutes later, I exited the side door of the hotel, sweating profusely.

I rolled the suitcase to the street along the Mediterranean and scanned for pedestrians.

There were several strolling along the sidewalk –

Exactly where I needed to go.

FUCK.

I was definitely going to need that diversion from Cat.

I looked around.

There she was, one street over, just like I’d told her.

She gave me a worried smile and started walking towards me –

And then I heard Isabella’s voice.

“Valentino?”

I whirled around.

I was suddenly plunged into a nightmare:

Cat walking towards me from one side –

And Isabella and Ludavica approaching from the other direction.

Oh SHIT –

Cat’s going to blow a fucking GASKET!

Despite my stress, I realized how funny the situation was:

I was more worried about Cat and Isabella meeting than I was about the dead body I was carting around.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I whispered at Isabella as she walked towards me.

“Val?” Cat said behind me, her voice trembling. “Who are they?”

FUCK, FUCK, FUCK –

“You must be Cat,” my future wife said brightly as she walked up. “I’m Isabella. This is Ludavica, my – uh, my servant.”

Isabella extended a hand to shake.

I just knew that Cat was going to slap it away, or cuss her out, or something –

But instead, she took Isabella’s hand.

Hesitantly, but she took it…

And shook it limply before letting go.

Cat looked like she was trying hard not to cry.

I felt fucking awful –

And I took it out on Isabella.

“WHY are you HERE?”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Ludavica snapped.

I turned on her next. “I don’t remember asking you a goddamn – ”

“They’re here, Valentino,” Isabella whispered, her voice panicked. “My father’s men – they’re here.”

My heart stopped in my chest.

“Where?” I asked hoarsely.

“I saw one of them in the crowd, so Lu and I slipped away.”

“How did you know where to come?!”

“Paolo mentioned the hotel name, remember?”

She was right.

You got a text, boss. She’s at the Locanda dell’Ortigia.

“What do we do?” Isabella asked, frightened.

SHIT.

I turned to Cat. “You’ve got to leave. Get a taxi and go somewhere – anywhere but here – but you have to leave NOW.”

“I can’t leave my things!” Cat cried out. “That’s all I have!”

I wanted to say, Except for your fucking LIFE, which you’re going to lose if you don’t LISTEN to me!

But I didn’t want her to panic, so I said, “Babe, you have to trust me – ”

“She’s got a couple of minutes,” Isabella interrupted. “My father’s men are looking on the other side of the island. I doubt they’re searching over here yet.”

“But – ”

“You still need to change,” Isabella said as she pointed at my shirt. “If you show up wearing that, my father will know the difference.”

Goddamn it!

The plan was falling apart.

“Bring his clothes down here when you come, but hurry,” Isabella said to Cat. “We’ll be waiting in that alley over there.”

Cat nodded frantically, then ran back inside the hotel side entrance.

“Why did you do that?” I asked angrily.

“Because we need to talk,” Isabella said as she headed for the alley.

“Talk about what?!” I asked as I dragged the suitcase behind me.

“You don’t have time to change clothes anymore, and your hair’s going to be wet when they find us.”

“Okay?” I said, like AND?

“They won’t buy our story, so we need a new plan. I came up with one on the way over here, but you’re not going to like it.”

“Well, the current plan is fucked, so I don’t think the new one could be any worse!”

“Just wait till you hear it.”

“What is it?”

“I’m going to lead my father’s men directly to you.”

I stared at her in shock.

“…what?!”

Isabella quickly explained.

She was right: I absolutely fucking hated the new plan.

But it was the only chance we had.

82

Cat returned in record time with her suitcase – and my bundled-up clothes.

After she handed them to me, I said, “You gotta go now, babe. Please, just find the nearest taxi and get the hell out of Ortigia.”

“When am I going to see you again?!” Cat asked frantically.

“Alessandra will tell you. Now GO.”

I kissed her passionately –

Maybe for the last time ever –

And pushed her gently away.

Cat looked back over her shoulder as she walked down the street.

I stared after her, feeling like my entire life was slipping away…

Until she went around a corner and was gone.

“You didn’t mention she was so pretty,” Isabella said quietly.

“Not something I wanted to discuss with my fiancée,” I snarled.

Isabella rolled her eyes and pointed at the hotel side entrance. “Go get dressed in there.”

I glanced at the suitcase with Paolo’s corpse inside. “And leave that out here with you?”

“Just go!” Isabella snapped as she shoved me towards the door.

Huh.

She could be tough when she was mad.

Inside the stairwell, I stripped off the newly bought clothes and put on my old ones. Then I came out and handed the new clothes to Isabella.

“Lu will take care of these,” she said. “Now go.”

“What about the distraction?”

“I’m handling that,” Isabella said. “Now GO!”

Ludavica took the clothes and walked quickly in the opposite direction.

I crossed the street towards the Mediterranean, pulling the suitcase behind me.

A group of tourists were heading right for me – an older group in their 60s.

I was sweating bullets –

Until Isabella screamed in Italian, “HELP ME! PLEASE, HELP ME!”

The tourists all stared across the street. I could hear them muttering in German.

“Was ist los?”

“Warum schreit sie?”

I glanced over my shoulder –

And saw Isabella step out under a street lamp with blood smeared all over her face.

JESUS.

I knew it was a ploy –

And yet she looked so fucked-up, I almost ran to help her myself.

The tourists gasped. One of the women screamed.

Then they dashed across the street to help.

Good job, Isabella.

I kept going –

Until I reached steps that led down to the sea.

The waves were crashing on the rocks below as I scanned the water.

PLEASE God, don’t let anybody be swimming right now.

You’d have to be a fucking idiot to be down there in the darkness –

But the world was full of fucking idiots.

And I was about to become the poster boy for them.

Luckily, no one was in the water.

I started down the metal stairs.

The suitcase clacked loudly as the wheels hit each step.

I prayed no one would hear it over Isabella’s screaming.

I reached the bottom and stepped out onto the nearest rocks.

They were slick and slimy with algae, and I struggled to keep my balance as water crashed over my shoes and pants.

I glanced up above me.

There wasn’t anybody along the walkway.

It was now or never.

I grunted and dragged the suitcase –

And stepped off into the water.

Cool water soaked my pants.

I didn’t go deep – only up to my thighs before my shoes hit the rocky bottom.

Isabella had been right about the suitcase: the air trapped inside caused it to be a little buoyant.

It didn’t float, exactly, but it was easier to pull through the water.

I trudged across the seafloor until I was neck-deep –

Then started swimming.

It was a fucking struggle.

The suitcase was heavy enough that it kept me underwater.

I would drag the bag out as far as I could until my lungs were burning –

Then kick to the surface for a quick gasp of air before heading back down.

I’d flail around in the darkness until I found the suitcase handle, then start all over again.

Every time I went up to breathe, I would check to see if anyone on the street was watching.

I didn’t see anyone, so I kept going.

My tenth time underwater, I reached the boulders that formed the breakwater around the swimming area.

I knew the water was deeper because it took longer to find the bag. Plus, my ears hurt from the pressure.

I couldn’t leave Isabella alone much longer, so I shoved the suitcase underneath the edge of the largest boulder.

It was a lot harder than it sounds since I did it all blind.

I opened my eyes at the end. They stung in the saltwater –

But there wasn’t much point. All I could see were a bunch of blurry shapes in the semi-darkness.

At least I could tell the black suitcase blended in with the base of the boulder.

I felt for the zipper, found it, yanked it to the side –

And finally I saw something:

A stream of bubbles, silver in the moonlight.

As they rose past my face, the suitcase settled heavily on the seafloor.

My lungs were screaming. I couldn’t stay under much longer.

I found a couple of small rocks and shoved them through the gap –

Then hastily zipped the bag up again.

I kicked off the bottom and swam to the surface, at least ten feet up –

And got slammed against the side of the boulder by a wave.

FUCK.

I was exhausted, but I swam as fast as I could back to the stairs.

Once there, I dragged myself up the steps, water cascading off my soaked clothes.

Just before I reached street level, I peeked over the retaining wall to see if anyone was watching.

No one was.

Everybody was gathered around Isabella, who was still crying loudly across the street.

Good girl.

I climbed up on the guard wall and stepped over the iron railing.

There was no longer anything keeping me from falling into the Mediterranean.

Ludavica stood back from the group around Isabella, her eyes roving the street.

She was looking for me.

As soon as she did, she screamed, “NO!”

That was my cue.

Before any of the bystanders could see where Ludavica was looking, I jumped off the wall into nothingness.

I aimed for the water beyond the rocks directly below.

I easily cleared them –

But I was still jumping 20 feet into waist-high water.

I tried to break my fall by buckling my legs, but it didn’t help much.

My feet screamed in agony as they slammed into the rocks on the bottom.

My upper body kept going, toppling over –

And when my head hit the seafloor, everything went black.

83

Complete darkness.

Then I was aware of cool water sloshing over my head, which seared with pain.

There was shouting above me –

Then next to me.

Someone hoisted me out of the water, turned me over –

And I was blinded by a light as bright as the sun.

Turns out it was just somebody’s cell phone flashlight shining in my face.

A couple of hard thwacks on my back –

And I vomited water and coughed till my throat was raw.

Hands grabbed me roughly – two beneath my armpits, another two clamped around my ankles –

And carried me like a dead body up the stairs.

They set me on the ground and propped me up in a seated position…

Until a black car glided up next to us.

The back door opened, and they heaved me inside.

Isabella was there. Ludavica was right behind her. Both of them looked terrified.

“Are you alright?!” Isabella cried out. “Oh God, he’s bleeding!”

I thought, Ha – you should see yourself.

My eyes focused briefly on her blood-smeared face –

And then I blacked out again.

84

“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!” Don Vicari roared.

It was past midnight, and we were all in the Don’s study.

Isabella sat on a chair, her face pale but cleaned up. There were a couple of stitches in a cut near her hairline.

Ludavica sat next to her, unharmed but terrified.

I was wrapped in a blanket – less to keep me warm than to make sure I didn’t get the furniture wet – as an old Sicilian country doctor cleaned the scrapes and cuts on my face with iodine. I hadn’t even been allowed to change my clothes before the questioning started.

“I told you, Papa,” Isabella said in a timid voice. “Paolo slammed my head against the wall. Valentino chased after him, and… I… I don’t remember much else.”

Don Vicari looked furiously at Ludavica. “What happened?!”

She pointed at me with a trembling finger. “Paolo knocked him over the railing into the water.”

Vicari glared at me. “Well?”

“I ran after him, but he pulled his gun, which is why I hesitated. Then… I don’t remember much else.”

I knew my injuries would sell the story for me. The right side of my face was bruised and cut, and the doctor said I’d suffered a mild concussion. Not to mention I’d nearly drowned.

Don Vicari stood there fuming in silence –

Then shouted “OUT!” at the doctor.

The old man got out of there real fast.

Don Vicari leaned down in front of me, his eyes blazing. “Why the hell would Paolo do all this?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you know?”

“Earlier in the afternoon, he left the restaurant to go make a phone call,” I said. “When he didn’t come back, I went to go find him, but I couldn’t.”

“You LEFT my daughter by HERSELF?!” Vicari roared.

“She was in a restaurant full of people. She was safe. Besides, I thought I’d find him and be back in five minutes.”

“You should’ve called ME!”

“I don’t have a phone, remember?” I snapped. “Besides, I didn’t think he was a fucking traitor – I just thought he was slacking off on his job.”

Vicari looked like he wanted to break my face –

But he got control of himself. “He disappeared from the restaurant, but you caught up with him at some point. How?”

“He’d been gone several hours by the time it got dark. At that point, I didn’t think I should leave the girls alone – so I took them with me, and we all went looking for him.”

A lot of the details in my story wouldn’t hold up if Vicari’s men questioned the restaurant staff. For instance, that I’d taken the girls with me.

However, I’d been in the restaurant when I’d told them I’d killed Paolo. I was hoping that in the hustle and bustle, the restaurant workers would be fuzzy on the details.

If not, I was fucked.

“And you found him,” Vicari snarled at his daughter.

“Yes,” Isabella said.

Vicari looked angrily at me. “Why weren’t you together?”

“We were just a block apart,” I replied. “One street over from each other. I figured we could cover more ground if we spread out.”

Vicari turned back to Isabella. “And what was Paolo doing?”

“He was on the phone. He was acting… strange.”

“Strange how?”

“Like he was nervous.”

“Did you hear what he said?”

“Not really… but I heard him mention Eliseo.”

Of course, it was all a lie.

When we were discussing the plan – when it went from just hiding the body to Isabella and Ludavica playing an important part – I’d told Isabella to mention the consigliere’s name.

Why? she’d asked.

Just trust me.

Turns out I was right.

Don Vicari’s reaction was powerful and instant.

He stepped back, a look of shock on his face like he’d been slapped –

Then he leaned over and screamed at Isabella, “WHAT DID HE SAY?!”

Isabella flinched and started crying. “I don’t know! I just heard him say Eliseo’s name!”

I had to hand it to Isabella.

When she’d told me, I can lie to my father easier than you think, I’d thought she was being overly confident.

But – hell – even I was buying her performance.

Vicari stood up, his face a mask of rage, and paced back and forth like an angry tiger.

Finally he turned to Isabella and Ludavica. “The two of you – go to bed! NOW!”

They both scrambled for the door.

Once they were gone, Vicari turned to me.

“Let’s go,” he snarled.

“Where are we going?” I asked warily.

He smiled evilly. “I think you know.”

I did.

The barn.

“Can I change into dry clothes first?” I asked as I stood.

“No,” he said as he pushed me out the door.

85

Vicari marched me through the darkness, an old-school kerosene lamp hanging from his hand. It was just the two of us, and he didn’t say a word the entire time.

I staggered along beside him, keeping the blanket wrapped around me tightly.

We finally reached the barn. A lone foot soldier was keeping watch.

“Open it,” Vicari barked.

The foot soldier hurriedly opened the sliding door.

I breathed through my mouth this time, but the stench was so bad I could taste the putrid air on my tongue.

Eliseo Marconi was still chained up. He still had the IVs, too, but it didn’t look like he had much more life in him.

His breathing was ragged. He was slumped over, and his head hung just inches from the dirt floor.

His infected wounds were even worse than the last time I’d seen him. His entire body looked like one giant, weeping sore.

In the light of the lantern, with all the shadows around him, he truly looked like something out of Dante’s Inferno.

“WAKE UP!” Don Vicari shouted.

I winced as he kicked the consigliere in the head.

The guy jerked, then slowly raised his ruined face.

“…Don… Vicari…”

“Were you working with anyone else?” Vicari seethed.

The consigliere frowned. “…what…?”

Vicari squatted down with the lantern in front of the consigliere. “Tell me the truth, Eliseo. Were you working with anyone else?”

The guy looked slowly from Vicari to me like he didn’t understand.

Vicari was squatting down beneath me. The foot soldier was still outside the barn.

Nobody else but the consigliere could see my face…

So I silently mouthed, Paolo.

The consigliere frowned.

I mouthed it again, more exaggerated.

PAOLO.

For a second, I was afraid that maybe the consigliere would sell me out –

But no.

He saw that I’d given him a chance to end his misery, and he played his part to the hilt.

“…Paolo…” the consigliere whispered.

Vicari was silent for a second –

Then he exploded in rage.

“WHAT DID YOU TELL HIM?! WHAT DID YOU DO WITH THE MONEY?!”

The consigliere chuckled. “…it’s… gone. Paolo… has it all…”

“WHERE IS IT?! WHERE IS IT?!”

The consigliere’s chuckle became a taunting laugh. “…fuck you… you stupid fucking moron…”

And then he spat in Vicari’s face.

I froze.

I was expecting the Don to pull out a gun and empty it into the guy’s head.

Instead, Vicari slowly stood up, the very picture of calmness.

He pulled out a handkerchief…

Wiped the bloody spittle from his face…

And then said coldly, “One more question. Were you working with Fausto Rosolini, too?”

I looked at Don Vicari in shock.

What the fuck?!

Where did THAT come from?!

The consigliere looked up at me. Seeing my confused reaction, he didn’t know what to do.

“…I… what…?” he wheezed.

“I guess not,” Vicari said.

Then he stepped back –

Swung the kerosene lantern overhead –

And smashed it down on the consigliere’s head.

The glass broke –

And flaming liquid engulfed the man’s body.

“AAAAAAAAGHHH!” he screamed.

I staggered backwards in terror.

Don Vicari stood there and watched the man writhe in his chains as the fire consumed him.

As a last little touch, Vicari threw the handkerchief – the one he’d wiped off the spit with – onto the man’s back and watched it burn.

The smell of charred meat filled my nose –

And it was all I could do to keep from vomiting.

I really had been transported to Hell.

Don Vicari waited until the consigliere slumped over for the last time.

He was still on fire – but all that was left was a charred husk of a corpse.

Vicari looked over his shoulder at the foot soldier and said, “Get that cleaned up.”

Like he had spilled a bit of milk in the kitchen.

Then he turned back to me. “Well, I guess you were telling the truth.”

I hadn’t been – not at all.

I’d just lied and gotten away with it.

“My men are already scouring all of Ortigia and Siracusa for that little shit,” he said darkly. “And once they find him… I’m going to have a new occupant for my barn.”

Paolo was lucky he was dead.

There really were fates worse than death. Eliseo Marconi could attest to that.

But all of that was a fleeting thought –

Because I was really only interested in one thing.

“Why did you ask if he was working with my uncle?” I demanded.

Don Vicari put his arm around my shoulder and led me out of the barn.

“We should go back to the house. You need to call your family.”

86

“…and Massimo just got out of surgery,” Niccolo said. “The doctors said it was touch and go, but they think he’ll pull through.”

I sat there in Don Vicari’s kitchen, my cell on speakerphone on the table.

“…pull through?” I repeated, my voice shaking.

Massimo was the biggest of us all –

The strongest.

He wasn’t supposed to ‘pull through’ –

He was supposed to be fucking invincible.

“He was shot 17 times. Only three got through his body armor, but the ones that did were pretty bad.”

“But he’s going to be alright – isn’t he?” I whispered.

Niccolo paused… then said softly, “I won’t lie to you, Val. I THINK so… but he has to make it through the night first.”

He has to make it through the night first.

I didn’t think I’d ever heard Niccolo say something more frightening.

“But Adriano’s okay?”

“He’s fine. He reinjured his ribs, but he’s alright.”

“And Lars?”

“He’s fine, too. In fact, if it hadn’t been for him, they’d have ALL been killed.”

“What about the rest of our guys?”

Niccolo sounded pained. “Most of them died. Fourteen out of twenty. The rest were wounded – some pretty seriously.”

“But Aurelio’s dead?”

“Yes,” Niccolo said grimly. “Massimo threw him off the bell tower.”

“Jesus Christ…”

My mind raced as I tried to process everything I’d heard.

That morning, while I was in Ortigia, Massimo had led an assault on the Isle of San Michele – a cemetery island just off the coast of Venice. He’d been trying to rescue the Widow’s granddaughter, who had been kidnapped by Aurelio and some mercenaries.

Massimo, Adriano, Lars, and 20 of our guys had gone in.

Only a handful had walked out…

And now Massimo might not make it, either.

“I’m coming to Venice,” I said.

“No you’re not,” Don Vicari said.

He was sitting across the table, listening in on the call.

“The fuck I’m not,” I snarled at him.

He just narrowed his eyes. “You’re not leaving this house until after the wedding.”

“LOOK – ”

“Valentino,” Niccolo interrupted, “listen to me. There’s nothing you can do here. I’ll call you every hour if you want, I swear – but we NEED Don Vicari’s help right now. Fausto is still out there, and I’m sure he’s lost his mind over what happened to Aurelio. He’s not going to fight with the gloves on anymore, and it’s going to get ugly. We need Don Vicari’s forces more than ever. Do you understand?”

“But – ”

“We’ll see you at the wedding – Massimo, too. It will all be fine, I promise. But until then, do whatever Don Vicari tells you to. Do I make myself clear?”

I glared at Vicari hatefully, but I mumbled, “…yes.”

“Good.” Niccolo paused. “I understand there was some sort of… trouble earlier?”

“It’s fine,” I muttered.

“Then why wasn’t I able to reach you?”

“I’ll tell you at the wedding,” I said acidly.

Nic knew I was telling him to fuck off; given the situation, though, he couldn’t do anything but take it.

“…fine. We’ll talk then. Don Vicari, thank you for protecting my brother.”

“Hmph,” Vicari grunted. “He has a habit of putting himself in harm’s way.”

“It’s an inherited trait in our family. But both my brother Dario and I greatly appreciate your help with – ”

“Is Alessandra there?” I interrupted.

“I was speaking with Don Vicari,” Niccolo said coldly.

“Yeah, I heard,” I snapped. “Is Alessandra there?”

“Yes, but – ”

“Put her on.”

“I don’t – ”

“PUT HER ON, NIC.”

Niccolo was silent for a moment – seething in rage, no doubt.

But then he said, “Hold on, I have to go get her.”

There was silence.

“That’s Don Rosolini’s wife, yes?” Vicari asked me.

“Yeah. My sister-in-law.”

Vicari narrowed his eyes. “Why do you want to speak with her?”

Why, indeed.

I couldn’t exactly tell him that I wanted to know about Cat –

So I said, “Niccolo has a habit of putting the best spin on news. She’ll tell me the truth.”

“I see,” Vicari said.

He didn’t sound convinced.

After another 60 seconds of sitting there in silence, Alessandra suddenly came on the phone. “Valentino?!”

“Hey, Alessandra,” I said, then added as a warning, “I’m sitting here with my future father-in-law.”

“Oh… hello,” Alessandra replied.

“Mrm,” Vicari grunted.

“Tell me the truth: is everyone okay?” I asked.

“Well – I mean, I’m sure Massimo will be okay – the doctors said – ”

“But everybody else – everybody we love – they’re okay? You’ve talked to Adriano and Lars and everybody else?”

There was a short silence.

I didn’t know if she was confused –

Or if she was just shocked to hear me use the word ‘love’ in connection with Cat.

“Yes,” she finally said. “I promise you, everybody you and I love is alright.”

I exhaled.

Cat’s safe.

“…thank you,” I murmured.

“Do you want me to pass on a message?”

“Yeah. Tell them I can’t wait until I see them again. And that I love them.”

Another pause.

Then she said, “Okay. I will.”

“Thanks, Alessandra.”

“Do you want to speak to Niccolo again?”

“No,” I said decisively.

“Alright… well… goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

I hung up the call.

“Can I keep this?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“No,” Vicari said.

“Then I’m going to go take a shower,” I announced.

I got up and limped towards the door –

When Vicari said out of nowhere, “All that talk about ‘love.’”

I turned and looked at him.

My heart was beating faster; I was afraid he’d figured it out.

“What about it?” I asked.

He looked at me for a long moment in silence…

Then said contemptuously, “That shit is what makes you weak.”

If I could have killed him right then and there, I would have.

Instead, I just gave him a Fuck you smile. “Maybe so. But I don’t care if it does.”

And I turned away and walked out of the kitchen.

After my shower, it took me hours to fall asleep. I couldn’t stop worrying.

About Massimo…

About Caterina…

And that I might never see her again.

At least she was safe.

That was more than I could say for my brother.

87

When Don Vicari summoned me the next morning to his study, I couldn’t read his expression. It was completely blank.

“It’s your brother,” he said emotionlessly as he pressed ‘Speakerphone’ on the cell.

“…hello?” I asked, terror creeping up my spine.

“He’s fine!” Niccolo said joyously. “Massimo just woke up and he’s going to be fine!”

I sank down weakly in the chair opposite Don Vicari’s desk.

“Thank God,” I breathed.

Niccolo chattered on for a while about Massimo’s good prognosis. Then he asked Don Vicari, “Given the circumstances, can we postpone the wedding?”

The fucking bastard replied, “No.”

“Don Vicari,” Niccolo said patiently, “it’s only five days away. I’m not sure Massimo will have recovered enough to attend – ”

“Then let him stay in the hospital.”

Niccolo was trying to hide it, but I could tell he was getting pissed. “Don Vicari – ”

“We had an agreement.”

“You said the wedding could be postponed – ”

“If the situation with your brothers got worse,” Vicari interrupted. “Your cousin is dead, and Fausto’s on his heels. I’d say the situation has improved.”

“Massimo was nearly killed,” Niccolo snapped.

“But he wasn’t. Your cousin, on the other hand, was. On the whole, a good trade-off. The wedding proceeds as planned.”

What an unbelievable asshole.

Of course, I’d seen him torture and burn a man alive, so… not a big surprise.

I had no interest in listening to Niccolo try to fight a battle that couldn’t be won, so I asked, “What about Roberto?”

With all the horrible news last night, I’d forgotten to ask.

“Good news there, as well,” Niccolo said, though he wasn’t quite as chipper as before. “He’s returning from Hong Kong around 8 o’clock tonight.”

I almost asked, Did he get the money? –

But I caught myself in time.

“Did he – was he successful?”

“VERY successful,” Niccolo said, back to fully happy.

I sat back in my chair in shock.

If all of my brothers and Lars were alive…

And Roberto had gotten back the 50 million…

Then what the fuck did we need Don Vicari for?

“I want to call off the wedding,” I said.

Don Vicari looked up at me sharply.

“Uh – what?” Niccolo said.

“Everybody’s alive. We got what we needed from Hong Kong. There’s no need to go through with the wedding anymore.”

“Don Vicari – may I speak to my brother in private?” Niccolo asked. I could hear the fear in his voice.

“No,” Vicari growled as he stared at me hatefully.

I stared right back at him. “I don’t want to marry your daughter. You know that. And she doesn’t want to marry me.”

Come on, you shithead – come on, be a proud motherfucker and say that if I don’t want your daughter, then me and my family can go fuck ourselves. COME ON –

But he just stared at me in silence.

Niccolo was panicking. “Don Vicari – ”

“Shut up, consigliere,” Vicari snarled.

That’s it, you prick – insult my brother!

Piss him off so bad he’s GUARANTEED to fuck you over if you don’t let me out of the deal!

But Niccolo kept quiet, much to my surprise.

Don Vicari stared at me in silence for another moment, then said coldly, “So you don’t want to marry my daughter.”

“She’s a nice person. I like her. But I don’t want to marry her. And she definitely doesn’t want to marry me.”

“And you know this how?”

“Because she told me.”

Don Vicari gave me that blood-curdling smile. “Too… fucking… bad.”

I gripped the arms of my chair in anger, but before I could say anything –

“Your brothers made a deal with me,” Vicari continued. “They don’t get to back out now just because the deal became less favorable for them since they signed.”

“They never signed shit,” I snarled.

“They made an oath. That’s more binding than any piece of paper.”

“I never got a say.”

“Like I said before: too… fucking… bad. I arranged this marriage for business reasons. Reasons that have nothing to do with my daughter’s happiness. In fact, I couldn’t give a shit about my daughter. She’s a means to an end to get what I want. I care even less about you.”

I stared at him with complete hatred –

But at least the cards were all on the table now.

No more bullshit.

“So if you want out of the deal, consigliere,” Don Vicari said mockingly to the phone, “fine – but you’re going to be down one brother after I put a bullet in this one’s head.”

I wanted to kill him –

I wanted to leap across the desk and fucking gouge his eyes out –

“The wedding will proceed as planned,” Niccolo said coldly.

I stared at the phone in horror. “Nic – ”

“Valentino, when I left you in Catania, I told you to do your duty to your family. THIS IS NOT DOING YOUR DUTY TO YOUR FAMILY.”

The fucking spineless traitor!

“But – ”

“You WILL marry Don Vicari’s daughter, and there will be NO more discussion about it. Am I understood?”

“Fuck you, Nic,” I snarled.

I immediately regretted what I’d just said.

Don Vicari smiled like a cobra about to watch a mongoose get spitted and roasted on a fire.

“Fine,” Niccolo said, his voice even colder than Don Vicari’s. “I’ll go get Dario.”

“What?! No – wait,” I said, suddenly unable to breathe.

“Since you won’t listen to me, I think it’s time we involve him.”

The idea of what Dario would say to me –

The idea of his rage directed at me –

Of his disappointment –

His being ashamed of me –

It was more than I could bear.

“ALRIGHT!” I yelled. “Alright, goddammit, I’ll marry her! Okay?! I’ll marry her.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

Then Niccolo hissed, “Don’t you EVER disrespect me again. Am I understood?”

“…yes.”

It was true – what I’d done was about as shitty a thing as you could possibly do in the Cosa Nostra.

I had shamed Niccolo in front of another family. Not only would it make him a laughingstock, but it would make it exponentially more difficult to deal with Don Vicari in the future.

To Vicari, Nic would always be ‘the consigliere who bends over when his underlings tell him to go fuck himself.’

If I wasn’t his brother – if I were just some foot soldier who worked for our family – Niccolo would have told Don Vicari to go ahead and shoot me. And to make it long, drawn-out, and painful.

But I was desperate…

My back was against the wall…

And Nic was taking a psychopath’s side instead of mine.

I’d done the only thing I could do in the moment.

The way I saw it, he’d left me no choice.

But then it got worse.

“Make him apologize to me,” Don Vicari said with a smile.

I stared at him in shock –

And then absolute hatred.

No way was I apologizing to that human shit stain.

I didn’t give a fuck what Niccolo said –

I’d go down fighting. Even if Vicari shot me, I’d claw out the fucker’s eyes before I died.

I steeled myself, waiting for Niccolo to give me the order –

But surprisingly, he said, “No.”

Vicari looked at the phone angrily. “What did you say?”

“You’ve won your battle. You get to marry your daughter off and secure our participation in your future expansion, all at my brother’s expense. No – I will NOT require him to apologize.”

Vicari was quickly becoming enraged. “I’m warning you, consigliere – ”

“Or what?” Niccolo snapped. “You’ll call off the wedding? We both know THAT’S not going to happen. You’d never jeopardize your plans. Or maybe you’re threatening me with killing my brother? If it hasn’t been made obvious to you yet, I’m not terribly fond of him at the moment.

“But if you DO harm Valentino in ANY way, rest assured – as soon as we’re finished with Fausto, we’ll come knocking on YOUR door. In fact, maybe we’ll deal with you FIRST, just for the hell of it.

“Trust me – you do NOT want that.

“So no, you’re not getting an apology from Valentino, from me, or anyone else. Either continue with the wedding, or don’t. But that’s the end of our business today.”

Vicari sat there, his face red, veins pulsing in his temples.

He looked like he wanted to jump across the desk at me and gouge my eyes out.

But what could he do?

He’d overplayed his hand just to be fucking petty – and everybody knew it.

Including Don Vicari.

If he’d still had one, a consigliere would have told him not to push his luck.

Too bad he’d killed his consigliere last night.

Could’ve used him before he went and humiliated himself.

“Fine,” Vicari seethed. “Our business is complete.”

And he stabbed the screen with his finger and hung up the phone.

I wanted to smile in the old fucker’s face –

But I knew that would be signing my death warrant…

So I just sat there staring at him emotionlessly.

“Get the fuck out of my sight,” he snarled.

I quickly got up and left the room.

88

The next couple of days were horrible.

I couldn’t leave the property; I couldn’t contact Cat; and I was about to lose all my freedom in just a few days.

The only thing that was even halfway comforting was Isabella.

I saw her and Ludavica often. I would run across both of them in the gardens as I paced, trying to keep my worry and hatred at bay. They were always reading, every single time.

Isabella looked up from her book with a compassionate wince. “Things pretty bad?”

“You have no idea,” I muttered.

“I’m sorry,” she said kindly.

I sat down on the bench next to her and Ludavica.

Since the whole conversation with Don Vicari about Your daughter doesn’t want to marry me, I noticed he’d become a lot more lax about chaperones breathing down our necks.

Or maybe it was because the wedding was just 72 hours away.

Six of one, half a dozen of the other.

“Your face is looking a lot better,” Isabella said.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

It was nice of her to lie.

The right side of my face looked like a bad Halloween mask. The bruises had started to turn green and purple, and all the little cuts were scabbed over.

Okay… in reality, I’d looked a lot worse in years past. I’d gotten in a couple of fights when I was a teenager and come out with two black eyes. (You should’ve seen the other guys, though.)

I knew it would all eventually heal…

But I still felt like shit every time I looked in the mirror.

Cat’s going to think I’m the ugliest thing she’s ever seen.

But I knew that wasn’t true.

If anything, she would tell me I was still the hottest guy she’d ever seen. She was a sweetheart that way.

Thinking of Cat made me think of losing her –

And suddenly I felt worse than before.

Isabella misinterpreted my expression.

“Are you and my father… okay?” she asked hesitantly.

“No.”

“…oh.”

I thought about telling her what her father had said about her –

I couldn’t give a shit about my daughter. She’s the means to an end to get what I want.

But what would be the point? To make Isabella as miserable as me?

She’d had Don Vicari for a father all her life. That was punishment enough.

“Aren’t you upset?” I asked her.

She frowned. “Why would I be?”

“You’re gonna be forced to marry me in three days.”

She smiled. “I can think of worse fates.”

“I can’t,” Ludavica muttered as she stared at her book.

“Ha ha,” I said, not laughing – although it was pretty funny.

“Lu,” Isabella scolded her, then turned back to me. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said with a half grin. “Even if she hates me, I kind of like her.”

Ludavica snorted.

“She’s not seeing the whole picture,” Isabella said. “Neither are you.”

“And what’s the whole picture?” I asked bitterly.

“I only got to leave this place a couple of times until you came along,” she said softly. “I’ve seen more in the last week than the rest of my life combined. I’m hoping that once we’re married, maybe – just maybe – we can get the freedom we both want. And deserve.”

“Not as long as your father has anything to say about it,” I grumbled.

“We’ll see,” she said cryptically. “We’ll see.”

89

Forty-eight hours before the wedding, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I had to see Cat.

Even if it was just one last time…

I had to see her before everything else was taken away from me.

So I did the unthinkable.

I went to see Don Vicari in his study.

He glared up at me hatefully. “What?”

“I’d like to call my sister-in-law Alessandra,” I said.

“Fuck off. You can talk to her when she arrives for the wedding.”

I gritted my teeth.

This was the part I really, really, really didn’t want to do –

But even the chance of seeing Cat was worth it.

“If you allow me to have a short phone call with her, I’ll apologize for everything I said the other day.”

Vicari looked at me, surprised –

And then broke out into a vicious smile. “Alright. Let’s hear it.”

I swallowed the bile that rose up in my throat. “I want your word first.”

“At least you’re learning something,” he said smugly. “Alright… you apologize to my liking, then I’ll allow you a phone call with your sister-in-law. Which I will listen in on.”

Fucking son of a bitch.

“And what does ‘to your liking’ mean?” I asked.

“Exactly what it sounds like.”

“I’ll apologize. What I’m not going to do is grovel.”

“Then fuck off.”

I would have gladly given my left arm to kill him.

But getting one last chance to see Cat was worth almost any sacrifice…

And it wouldn’t even require the loss of any limbs.

…just my pride.

I at least knew one thing was certain:

He didn’t give a shit about me saying I didn’t want to marry Isabella.

He only cared that I had offended him.

I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I tried to convince my brother to cancel the wedding. I shouldn’t have done that. You were right; you made a deal with my family, and I tried to sabotage it. That was disrespectful and wrong of me. I ask your forgiveness for my foolish behavior.”

“And for disrespecting me as your new Don,” he snarled.

I stopped short.

Dario was my Don.

But…

Vicari had a point.

I was marrying into his family…

And he was the leader of that family.

“…and for disrespecting you as my new Don,” I said quietly. “For that, I ask your forgiveness.”

Vicari sat there smirking, obviously quite happy to see me bowing down to him.

And though I could see he was thinking about humiliating me further…

I knew he was also trying to avoid overplaying his hand like he had with Niccolo.

I was also betting he was itching to find out what was going on with my family.

He didn’t trust me – or them – any further than he could throw us.

But he did have one more way to put me in my place.

He stood up from his chair…

Extended his hand…

And waited.

He wanted me to kiss the diamond ring on his middle finger like he was the fucking pope or something.

I stared at the ring.

Everything inside me recoiled in disgust.

But I forced myself to walk over…

Stoop down…

And kiss the ring.

When I stood up, I was silent.

Vicari looked enormously pleased with himself.

After all, he thought he’d just broken me.

“Alright… you can have your little phone call.”

90

My cell sat on the desk between us. I put it on speakerphone and hit the Contact for Alessandra.

She answered after just a few rings.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Alessandra.”

“Valentino! How are you?”

“Not bad. I’m here with Don Vicari.”

‘Not bad’ was a code word we used when we called each other.

Lars had come up with a list of them.

Outstanding let you know that the speaker didn’t have a gun to his head and that nobody was listening in who shouldn’t be.

Not bad, though, meant Proceed with caution.

I’d told her that Don Vicari was listening in, yes, but I’d used the code word to emphasize extra caution.

I knew Alessandra was familiar with Lars’s code.

I just hoped she realized I was using it.

“Good,” she said. “Hello, Don Vicari.”

“Hello,” he said gruffly.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Outstanding! Massimo’s out of bed and walking around all on his own!”

Outstanding!

So she did get it.

“That’s awesome,” I said, and I meant it. I was happy to hear my big brother was okay – and that nobody was listening in on her side of the conversation. “Will he be able to come to the wedding?”

“I’ll be honest… all of us think he should stay in Venice and rest, but he absolutely insists on being there. I don’t think anything but a direct order from Dario would keep him away – and maybe not even that.”

I chuckled.

“Tell him thank you.” And then I said something she knew was out of character for me: “I really want everybody I love to be there at the chapel.”

The last time I’d used those words – everybody I love – was the night I’d found out Massimo was shot.

I had specifically been talking about Cat.

In fact, ‘everybody’ might as well have been code for ‘Caterina.’

Alessandra had picked up on it then; I was hoping she would pick up on it now.

From her reply, I was pretty sure she got it.

“I’m sure everybody will try. What’s going on?”

“I wanted to know when everybody was coming.”

“Last I heard, we’re flying over to Sicily the morning of the wedding.”

“Would it be possible for everybody to come 24 hours ahead of time? I’d really like to see everybody.”

“No,” Don Vicari interjected.

I’d planned for that.

“Come on,” I asked him, pretending to plead. “What’s 24 hours ahead of time?”

“NO,” Vicari snapped. “Don’t ask again.”

I hadn’t been trying to convince him.

I’d been emphasizing ‘24 hours ahead of time.’

Alessandra got the hint.

“I think it would be possible, Valentino, but if your father-in-law doesn’t want it – by the way, Don Vicari, what time IS the wedding on Saturday?”

He frowned like he couldn’t quite decide if something was up or not. “Noon.”

“And it was at that little chapel near – what was the village? Retusanno?”

“Resuttano.”

“Right, Resuttano.”

Alessandra was letting me know she’d tell Cat to be at the chapel outside Resuttano at noon tomorrow –

Twenty-four hours before the wedding.

My heart leapt in my chest, but I managed to keep a poker face.

“But you’ll be flying into my private estate,” Don Vicari said dourly.

“Oh – wonderful! I can’t wait to see it!”

“Hrm,” he harrumphed.

“Did Roberto get back okay?” I asked.

“He did! He brought someone, too!”

“Who?” I asked, surprised.

“A woman from Hong Kong.”

“What?!” I said, shocked.

I wondered if she was the one with the 50 million euros.

“Who is she?” I asked.

“Her name’s Mei-ling. She’s very nice, but I’ll let you ask him about her. You know he’s extremely private, and he’s been a bit cagey about her.”

Holy shit…

Had Roberto – a boring stick in the mud, if there ever was one – hooked up with some chick in Hong Kong?!

If it was true, then I was seriously pissed off.

Here I was, about to get forced into an arranged marriage, and Roberto was chasing pussy in Hong Kong.

But I let it slide. I’d find out more later.

Alessandra and I chatted, and I asked a bunch of questions to camouflage my intentions about Cat.

At the end, I said, “Thanks, Alessandra. For everything.”

“You’re welcome. I can’t promise Massimo will be there… but I’m sure he’ll want to be.”

I knew she wasn’t talking about Massimo.

“I look forward to seeing everybody.”

“And I know everybody wants to see you. Take care. Goodbye, Don Vicari.”

“Goodbye,” he said coolly.

When Alessandra hung up the phone, Don Vicari looked at me. “Well? Satisfied?”

I would be if it worked.

91

Iwas overjoyed after talking to Alessandra.

I did my best to contain myself during dinner with Don Vicari and the old lady. However, Isabella must have noticed I was in a better mood because she kept glancing over at me.

After dinner, I had to take a walk outside because I was so excited.

I’m going to see Cat tomorrow!

Just as I was about to enter the gardens, I heard a woman’s voice behind me.

“Valentino?”

I looked around to see Isabella walking towards me.

Just her – no Ludavica.

“What’re you doing out here?” I asked.

“Looking for you.”

“Better be careful,” I joked. “Your dad will send in the stormtroopers if he sees us together.”

She frowned. “Nazi stormtroopers?”

I’d meant Star Wars – but whatever.

“Yeah. Those.”

“Now that we’re about to be married in two days,” she said, “I think everybody’s a bit more relaxed.”

Now that we’re about to be married in two days.

Even in the hot summer air, the words still sent a chill down my spine.

They were about the only thing that could puncture my happiness about Cat.

“…yeah…” I muttered.

“Can we take a walk?” she asked as she gestured towards the gardens.

I looked around. “Where’s Ludavica?”

“She’s inside. I wanted to talk to you privately.”

I raised one eyebrow. “That sounds kind of serious.”

“It is.”

“Oh. Alright – let’s go.”

We walked along the path, our feet crunching in the gravel. All around us were trees and bushes with fragrant flowers.

“So what did you want to talk about?” I asked.

“You seem… different today. Happier.”

“Yeah?” I said casually.

“Is it because you’re going to see Caterina before the wedding?” she whispered.

I stopped in surprise. “How did you know?”

She smiled. “I didn’t until just now. But it was the only thing I could think of that would make you this happy.”

Shit.

Niccolo would’ve seen that one coming from a mile away.

“So you are?” she prodded.

“…yeah,” I admitted as we started walking again.

“When?”

I looked at her, trying to figure out if she might possibly betray me.

“I won’t try to stop you,” she promised. “And I won’t tell Papa. I swear on – ”

She paused as she tried to think of something sacred to her.

If she said my father’s life, I was going to tell her to go fuck herself.

“On every book I’ve ever loved,” she said, “and all the ones I’ll read and love in the future.”

…oh.

Okay.

For Isabella, I knew that was the equivalent of swearing on the souls of her children, her grandchildren, and her great-grandchildren.

“Tomorrow at noon,” I said.

Isabella looked at me in alarm. “She’s not coming here, is she?”

“God, no. I’m meeting her at the chapel.”

“How are you going to get there?”

“I’ll walk.”

She nodded thoughtfully.

Then she asked, “You’re not thinking of… running away with her, are you?”

I looked at her in surprise. “What? No.”

She looked at me sideways. “Really?”

“I can’t. I’d be betraying my family if I did.”

Isabella exhaled like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “Good.”

“Did you think I was going to run off?”

She smiled sadly. “I was afraid you might.”

“Why? You don’t want to marry me, either.”

“No, but… we might be able to help each other get what we want.”

“Okay, no more vague bullshit,” I said. “What the hell are you talking about?”

She hesitated…

Then finally spoke.

“Before the… problem in Ortigia,” she said, by which I knew she meant Paolo, “I got to taste freedom for the first time in my life. The days you took us to those cities? Those were some of the happiest times in my entire life.

“I don’t care if you’re with Caterina after we’re married. As long as you can get me out of here – me and Ludavica – you can do whatever you want. I’ll be happy for you to do that.”

I frowned. “You’re telling me that after we’re married, you’re perfectly fine if I cheat on you with another woman?”

Isabella looked frustrated. “Didn’t you ever wonder why I wasn’t interested in marrying you?”

Actually, yeah, I did.

Like I said, hundreds of the hottest chicks in Italy had thrown themselves at me –

But the beanpole bookworm?

Not interested in the slightest.

When I didn’t immediately answer, Isabella kept talking.

“I mean, by all objective standards, you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever met.”

Okay, I’ll admit it:

I’m a little vain.

Okay, fine, whatever –

I’m really fucking vain.

So her saying that totally stroked my ego.

“Thank you,” I said with a seductive smile.

She harrumphed. “I wasn’t complimenting you. I was asking you, didn’t that make you wonder?”

“I mean… yeah, kind of.”

“Well… you’re in love with Caterina… and I’m in love with someone else, too.”

I was totally taken aback. “Who?! A guy who works for your father?”

Isabella narrowed her eyes like I was a fucking idiot.

“Not a guy.”

Oh.

Wait –

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

92

“You’re GAY?!” I exclaimed.

Isabella looked like she was about to shit a brick as she looked around wildly.

“Would you keep it DOWN?!” she hissed.

“Sorry, sorry,” I whispered. “But – you’re GAY?!”

“Yes.”

Again, I’m a little vain –

Okay, a lot vain –

So my ego was relieved.

No wonder she isn’t into me –

She likes CHICKS!

Now it all makes sense!

“Who is it?” I asked.

Isabella really looked at me like I was an idiot. “One guess.”

“Holy SHIT – Ludavica?!”

Isabella looked like she was going to murder me.

“Sorry, sorry,” I whispered again. “When the fuck did that happen?!”

“Years ago.”

“Years ago?!”

“I think we always had a crush on each other, but neither of us did anything until the night I turned 18.” Isabella got a dreamy smile on her face. “She kissed me on impulse, like she couldn’t control herself anymore.

“I was shocked.

“I mean, I wanted her, too – but I thought she could never, ever feel that way about me.

“When I didn’t do anything, she was terrified. She started apologizing and crying – until I kissed her back. Then… well… it just happened naturally.”

“Wait a second,” I said. “You two have had sex?!”

Isabella frowned like I was the stupidest idiot God ever created. “Of course we’ve had sex.”

“How many times?” I asked, my eyes wide.

“Why are you asking?”

“I’m just curious, that’s all.”

“Too many to count.”

“Dozens?”

“Hundreds, at least.”

HOLY FUCKING SHIT!

I know it was really shallow of me, but suddenly, getting married to Isabella didn’t seem so bad.

I mean –

Threesomes, baby!

Isabella angrily put both hands on her hips. “This information is not meant for your sexual gratification, you pervert!”

“Aw, come on – you gotta admit, it’s kinda hot.”

“I thought you were in love with Cat!”

Shit.

“…yes… yes, I am,” I said grudgingly as all thoughts of threesomes slipped away.

Cat was fantastic in bed, but I knew she’d never go for a threesome – because I’d already asked.

Her response had been pretty final.

NO.

NEVER.

DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT.

“Alright, so – you two are in love,” I said, coming back to reality. “Aren’t you worried your father will find out?”

“Of course I am. If he found out, he’d kill me.”

“Yeah,” I admitted, “he’d probably be pretty pissed.”

Isabella stared at me like I just wasn’t getting it. “No, Valentino… he’d literally kill me. Actually, he’d probably have someone else do it for him.”

I laughed.

She didn’t laugh back.

“Are you fucking serious?” I whispered.

“YES, I’m serious. My father is the most homophobic man I’ve ever met – and in the Cosa Nostra, that’s saying something. He hates gay people. Mostly gay men, but lesbians, too.

“If the other mafia families in Sicily – and God forbid, Italy – found out that his daughter loved another woman, he would be utterly humiliated – and my father will never willingly subject himself to humiliation. Which is why he’d have one of his thugs take me and Ludavica out in the fields, shoot us in the back of the head, and bury us in a shallow grave.”

I stared at Isabella in shock.

I wanted to say, He’d never do that – he’s your father –

But then I remembered what Don Vicari had said to me:

I couldn’t give a shit about my daughter. She’s the means to an end to get what I want.

And I had to admit, Yeah, he’s capable of it.

Which blew my mind. My father was old-school Cosa Nostra and pretty homophobic – but if me or one of my brothers had been gay, he would’ve still loved us. He wouldn’t have liked it, and he probably would have pretended like that part of our lives didn’t exist – but we’d still be his sons.

In fact, everybody had kind of thought Roberto might be gay, and my father never treated him one bit different.

And my brothers? None of us gave a shit about whether someone was gay or not.

Okay, okay, I guess we had some prejudices – like we thought gay guys weren’t going to be as tough in a fight as a straight guy.

But if a man who worked for our family was gay, all we cared about was whether he was loyal to us and was good at his job. That was it.

So the idea that Don Vicari would murder his daughter…

It was unthinkable.

An infamia.

And… unfortunately… I knew it was probably the truth.

“There are honor killings in the Middle East every day,” Isabella said softly. “Fathers and brothers kill their daughters and sisters just because they had sex before marriage, and those assholes think it besmirches their honor. You think they’d be okay with it if their sisters or daughters slept with another woman?”

“This isn’t the Middle East,” I protested.

“No, but it’s not just the Middle East. It happens in America – in the UK – ”

“Yeah, with Muslims.”

“Islam doesn’t have a monopoly on men who hate gay people,” she shot back. “My father is a relic from the 19th century – he never even made it into the 20th, much less the 21st. Me being gay would be just about the worst thing I could possibly do to him, outside of betraying him to his enemies. And he might even prefer the betrayal.”

Shit.

Every single word she said rang true.

“And you were still with Ludavica, knowing he might kill both of you?”

Isabella shrugged helplessly. “What else was I going to do? I love her. Without her, this place would be the loneliest prison in the world. With her, it’s close to paradise. But it’s still paradise inside a prison where we could die any day. And I was deathly afraid the paradise might end.

“All those suitors my father brought around? I didn’t reject them because I didn’t like them… although I didn’t like them. But I never expected to like any man I had to marry.

“I said ‘no’ because they were all like my father: they hated gay people. I knew that none of them would accept me and Ludavica. And if they found out after I was married, they would definitely kill her, and probably me. With my father’s blessing,” she added bitterly. Then she gave a dark laugh. “They wouldn’t marry me if they knew I wasn’t a virgin… and they’d kill me if they knew I was gay.”

I remembered what Don Vicari had said to me in the car:

My daughter is a virgin, and she’ll remain a virgin until her wedding night.

I guess I made a face because Isabella asked, “What?”

“Something your dad said.”

“What was it?”

“He basically threatened to kill me if I had sex with you before we got married.”

She snorted. “Besides his 19th-century views on virginity, he probably wanted a Plan B in case you didn’t work out.”

“What do you mean?”

“In case you bailed. If I’m not a virgin, no Cosa Nostra asshole my father would approve of would ever want to marry me. And if you bailed, he’d definitely force me to marry one of them.”

“But I’m Cosa Nostra,” I said. “Why’d you think I would be different?”

“To be honest, I didn’t have a choice. My father got angry I was rejecting all his picks, so he forced me into marrying you.

“But I lucked out. You’re open-minded… you’re kind… and you made an effort. When you read the Rupi Kaur book, I knew there was something different about you. None of the other men would have even considered doing that.

“And then, when I found out about Caterina, that was the first time I thought,

Maybe this could work. Because you can be with the woman you love… and I can be with the woman I love. And my father never has to know.”

I rubbed the lower half of my face.

Everything she was saying made sense. Still…

“What about children?” I asked. “You know your father wants grandkids.”

Isabella made a face. “I don’t know… we can figure it out. A turkey baster or something.”

“A turkey baster,” I laughed, mostly in disbelief.

She laughed a little, too. “I’m sorry, Valentino, but I do not want to have sex with you.”

“Yeah, that much is obvious, if you prefer a turkey baster over my cock.”

She laughed harder. “I’m sure you have a very nice – thing – but yes, I’ll take the turkey baster any day.”

“Jesus, you really are gay.”

“Yup.”

We laughed together –

And suddenly, everything felt different.

Like we had a shared secret, and it was the two of us against her father.

“Do we have a deal?” she asked hopefully.

“Deal.” I grinned as I stuck out my hand. “Turkey baster and all.”

She laughed as we shook on it.

93

Icould barely sleep that night, I was so excited.

Not only was I going to see Cat – I had a plan out of this fucking mess.

Even though I only got a couple hours of sleep, I was filled with energy when I woke.

I couldn’t wait to see her!

Everything was going to be just fine!

I ate breakfast on my own, then walked outside –

And suddenly realized I had no idea which direction Resuttano was.

As I was standing there staring out at the horizon, I heard a voice behind me.

“Don’t know where to go?”

I turned around.

It was Ludavica.

“Oh,” I said, taken aback. “Uh… you know about that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course. She tells me everything.”

“Oh.”

Made sense.

That’s what people in love were supposed to do.

“Isabella realized you probably didn’t know where to go, but she thought it would look a little obvious if she came after you. So she sent me instead.” Then Ludavica got a little pissed. “For the record, I was totally against telling you. But for some unknowable reason, she trusts you.”

“And you don’t?” I asked, annoyed.

She sighed. “You seem okay… but let’s be real. She’s from a mafia family, but she’s naïve. You’re from a mafia family, and I don’t know you. I don’t know what you’re capable of. I know what her father’s capable of, though, and it scares the shit out of me.”

“…yeah,” I muttered, thinking back to the barn.

“Please don’t fuck us on this one,” Ludavica whispered desperately. “Please. She’s all I have.”

I nodded. “I understand. And I won’t – I promise.”

Ludavica looked into my eyes as though searching for the truth…

And then finally relented.

“See that old ruin on the horizon, about half a mile away?” she said, looking over at the left side of the property. “Walk towards that and keep going. After about three miles, you’ll be on top of a ridge. You’ll see Resuttano in the distance. The chapel is on the outskirts of the town – you’ll reach it before you get to Resuttano.”

“Thank you.”

Ludavica nodded glumly, like she was sealing her own fate, and walked away.

94

Iwent back to the kitchen and got an old wine bottle filled with cold water. It was a hot summer’s day, and I didn’t want to walk ten miles round trip without something to drink.

I ambled around the property for almost an hour, trying to make it look like I was lost in thought.

The point was to see if any of the foot soldiers were watching.

None of them paid me the slightest attention, so I headed for the ruins Ludavica had pointed out.

It was an old farmhouse made of stone, long since abandoned and caved in. Vines had covered the walls, and birds nested in what was left of the wooden rafters.

In the distance, Don Vicari’s compound looked like a dollhouse.

I waited on the opposite side of the ruins, waiting to see if someone would come after me –

But no one did.

So I kept walking.

I ambled through fields of grain and over hills until I reached a hilltop, just like Ludavica had said.

Down in the valley was a tiny village. Maybe a hundred small buildings.

And there, about a quarter mile from the village, was a tiny chapel. I could tell by the cross on the roof.

That’s what I headed for.

As I got closer, my heart beat faster and faster. I was nearly overcome with nervousness.

It felt like I was getting close to the actual, real beginning of my life –

IF she shows up.

I wasn’t much of a praying man, but I prayed to God that Cat would be there.

I finally reached the chapel. It stood alone in a field, with an ancient graveyard off to the side filled with weathered tombstones.

The chapel itself was small, maybe 40 feet wide by 80 feet long, with a cross on the top and a small bell tower on the back.

The doors were all wood – dark, weathered brown with iron door knockers.

There were stone steps up to the main door. I walked up and tugged at the handle.

Surprisingly, the door was open. Or maybe not surprisingly at all. It was a house of God out in the middle of nowhere; maybe it was open at all hours to anyone who needed Him.

I opened the door and walked inside. I’d expected it to be dark inside, but there was a beautiful stained glass window of Christ on the cross. People I assumed were Mary and several apostles looked up at him in anguish.

The sunlight filtered through the glass, turning everything in the chapel to red, orange, and yellow.

The walls were lined with faded tapestries of the stations of the cross. Other than those and a few small statues of saints, there wasn’t much decoration.

The floors were polished wood. Ten rows of uncomfortable-looking, rough-hewn pews lined a central aisle.

The altar was a podium on top of a short, raised platform with steps leading up to it.

To the left of the platform was a table with dozens of small candles. After a thousand people lighting and praying over them, the melted wax had covered every inch of the surface.

Directly to my right, there was a wooden confessional booth with two chambers: one for the priest and the other for the person confessing. Both doors were closed.

The air was still and smelled like ancient wood and candle wax.

Everything was as silent as a tomb.

So far as I could tell, no one had been in here for days.

I looked at my watch.

11:57 AM.

“Caterina?” I called out quietly.

There was a slight noise behind me, and my heart leapt.

I turned to see her in the doorway of the church.

“Val,” she said as she gave me a soft, sad smile.

95

Caterina

When I left Valentino in Ortigia, the last image I had was of him standing in the street –

Next to the woman he was going to marry.

I hadn’t wanted to see her – ever.

I’d told him that.

As long as I didn’t know what she looked like, it was like I could pretend she didn’t exist.

That she was just a story.

That somehow the whole situation wasn’t real.

But as soon as I met her…

The house of cards came tumbling down.

Even worse, she was cute.

And thin.

Her body was the exact opposite of mine, and my insecurities gnawed at me.

Is that what he REALLY wants, but he just tells me what I want to hear?

I knew that wasn’t true –

Or at least, I thought it wasn’t true.

But the green-eyed monster had its claws in me, and they were sharp.

To top it all off, she was nice. Sweet.

She reminded me a lot of Alessandra. Not in her appearance, but her kindness and friendliness.

I wanted to hate Isabella.

I wanted her to be a fucking bimbo –

An ugly slut –

A stupid mafia whore –

But she wasn’t.

She was sweet, kind, gentle, and polite.

And cute.

And thin.

God, why did she have to be so fucking thin?!

When I took the taxi out of Ortigia, I was a wreck. Sobbing one minute, furious the next. A whole flood of thoughts and emotions rolled through me.

I TOLD him I never wanted to meet her! I TOLD HIM!

How could I leave him?! He’s in danger!

Am I ever going to see him again?!

Oh God – is he going to die?!

Why was she so NICE to me?! I’ve been sleeping with her fiancé!

But he was MINE FIRST!

But I kept coming to one in particular – the one that absolutely destroyed me.

She’s the one who gets to marry him.

Once I got over my pity party, I texted Alessandra and told her everything.

Well… not about the dead body in the suitcase.

Just that Valentino was in trouble and had sent me away, I’d met Isabella, and now I wasn’t sure if I would ever see him again.

I’ll let you know as soon as he contacts me, she promised.

What if he doesn’t?!!! I texted back.

You know he will. It’s going to be okay. Just BREATHE.

I followed her advice and breathed deeply.

It didn’t help.

I followed Valentino’s advice and had the taxi take me far away –

To Marsala, a city on the other side of Sicily.

The entire time, I was miserable.

All I could think of was Valentino.

If he’d been caught by the police –

Or worse, by the gangsters –

If he was even alive –

And oh my fucking God, why does SHE get to have him?! She doesn’t even WANT him!

I found a hotel on the internet.

Just as the bellhop was opening the door to the room, I got a text from Alessandra.

I just talked to him! He’s fine!

Call me as soon as you can!

He gave me a secret message:

‘Tell Cat I can’t wait to see her again and that I love her.’

When I read that, I burst into tears.

The bellhop looked at me in astonishment. “Signorina… you do not like the room?”

“No,” I said, smiling through my tears. “I mean, yes – it’s wonderful. Everything’s wonderful.”

96

When I called her, Alessandra told me everything.

She didn’t mention anything about a dead body, though. I didn’t want to say anything for fear of the phone being tapped, so I assumed Val had gotten away with it.

“When am I going to be able to see him again?” I asked.

“I don’t know, Cat. I got the feeling it might be a while. But as soon as I hear anything, I’ll let you know immediately.”

I wanted to scream, But you don’t understand!

He’s going to get married in just a few days, and I might never see him again after that!

What made it worse was that – for the first time – I actually knew and believed he was going to get married.

Because I’d seen his bride.

Instead, I just whispered, “Okay.”

“Don’t give up hope, Cat,” Alessandra pleaded.

But I already had.

Not of seeing him again –

But of getting to keep him.

I didn’t venture out of the room once while I was in Marsala. I just ate room service and watched TV.

Every few hours, I would text Alessandra:

Any word?

And every time, it was the same reply:

Not yet.

For two days, I stayed in a horrible limbo of not knowing what was going on.

I was haunted by horrible image after horrible image.

Valentino and Isabella at the altar – him devastatingly handsome in a tux, her looking radiant in a beautiful bride’s dress.

The two of them laughing and running as crowds pelted them with rice.

Them in some beautiful hotel room with the moonlight streaming in…

As he slowly took off her dress…

Then kissed her…

And laid her back naked on the bed and –

I nearly vomited every time I thought of them like that.

And yet, I couldn’t stop myself from picturing it over and over and over.

Finally, Alessandra called and put me out of my misery.

“He wants to see you!” she said happily.

I shrieked with happiness.

That was the last bit of joy I felt, though.

“There’s a tiny village called Resuttano. He wants you to meet him at the chapel on the outskirts at noon tomorrow!”

“The chapel,” I repeated, dread suddenly filling my insides.

“Yes. On the outskirts of – ”

“Is that where he’s getting married?” I asked quietly.

Alessandra paused.

During her silence, I saw all the horrible images again:

Isabella in a wedding dress I would never get to wear…

Valentino undressing her in the moonlight and –

I forced myself to stop.

When Alessandra spoke, I could hear the pain in her voice. She knew what I was going through.

“…yes. That’s where the wedding will be.”

“The day after tomorrow?”

“…yes.”

“And you’ll be there?”

“Yes.”

“With Don Rosolini, and Niccolo, and Adriano, and – ” I stopped and frowned. “Did Massimo, Lars, and Roberto come back yet?”

“Yes. A lot has happened over the past few days. But there was so much going on with you and Valentino, I didn’t want to add to the stress.”

She told me everything.

About how Massimo, Adriano, and Lars had stormed an island to rescue the daughter of the mafiosa who ran Venice.

Massimo had been shot multiple times. Luckily, he was on the mend – but it had been touch and go for a while.

His brothers will risk their lives to save some girl…

But I can’t even get Valentino NOT to marry a woman he doesn’t want, and who doesn’t want him.

In addition to my misery, I felt overwhelming guilt.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “Your brother-in-law almost died, and I’m bothering you with some stupid schoolgirl crush – ”

“Stop it,” Alessandra commanded. “You LOVE him, and he loves you. You KNOW that.”

“Alessandra, tell me the truth – am I a fool?”

“What?! Why would you say that?!”

“He’s going to marry her, and I just keep hanging on like a pathetic, stupid – ”

“STOP. Don’t talk like that. He wants to see you – ”

“For one last romp in the hay before he gets married.”

“You don’t know that. Maybe he’ll finally see how stupid and insane this whole situation is, and he’ll run off with you – ”

“He won’t. I’ve asked him over and over, and every time it’s the same thing: ‘I can’t betray my family.’”

Alessandra was silent.

We both knew I was right.

“If I stay with him, I’ll always be the other woman. I’ll always be the dirty little secret he keeps hidden.”

“Oh, Cat… I HATE Niccolo for doing this to you,” Alessandra said, real anger in her voice. “And I hate that Dario went along with it – ”

“It’s not them, Alessandra. It’s Valentino. He’s choosing to do this. He’s choosing to marry her. I just… I just don’t think he wants to be with me enough to say ‘yes’ to me.”

“Oh, Cat…”

I sobbed. “I want him so badly… but I can’t keep doing this.”

She let me cry for a minute. When she finally spoke, I could tell her heart was breaking for me.

“Whatever you do, you should go see him tomorrow… even if it’s only to say goodbye.”

97

So I went.

Like the stupid, pathetic fool I was…

I went.

Right after I talked to Alessandra, I packed and checked out. Then I hailed a taxi.

The driver hadn’t even heard of Resuttano before. He had to look it up on Google Maps.

We drove for three hours. Then he dropped me off at a bed and breakfast – the only inn in the village.

I spent a sleepless night tossing and turning…

And then, the next day at 11:30, I walked through the town towards the chapel, with Alessandra’s words echoing in my ears:

You should go see him tomorrow… even if it’s only to say goodbye.

I made my decision.

If he would run away with me, then everything would be perfect.

It would be a fairy tale come true.

But that wasn’t what I thought would happen.

Though it made me sick to my stomach, I promised myself that he if refused to leave with me…

That if he was actually going to go through with marrying her…

Then this would be the last time I saw him.

I would leave Sicily and probably die of a broken heart…

But I would end it.

So when I was walking towards the church and saw him in the distance, my heart stopped.

I froze as I watched him walk into the church.

Half of me wanted to rush to him, to fling myself into his arms, to kiss him madly –

But the other half wanted to run away.

To flee the heartbreak I knew was coming.

The part of me that wanted him was too strong.

I hurried down the lane, across the churchyard, and then stopped outside the door.

My entire body was trembling –

From desire or fear, I didn’t know which.

Then he said my name –

“Caterina?”

And it was the most beautiful music I’d ever heard –

Because he said it.

I walked up the steps and paused, my heart beating wildly in my chest.

He turned. All I could see of him was a silhouette in the red and golden light of a stained glass window –

But I would have known that profile anywhere.

“Val,” I whispered, my heart both breaking and full of love.

He stepped forward into the light from the doorway, and I could finally see his face.

I put my hand to my mouth in shock.

The entire right side of his face was horribly bruised. Not only that, he had dozens of scrapes and cuts.

He gave me a lopsided smile. “Not so good-looking anymore, am I?”

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I dropped my hand and smiled. “I’d give everything I have to wake up to that face… exactly the way it is right now… for the rest of my life.”

He looked at me with a combination of pain and longing.

I stared at him with tears in my eyes.

And then I was running to him –

And he swept me up in his arms.

Before I knew it, his mouth was on mine, and his hands were all over my body –

And I gave in.

One last time.

98

At first I looked around and panicked about where we were – a church, of all places! –

But when I felt his hard cock under his pants, I just moaned and closed my eyes.

His mouth kissed my neck, then went lower –

Until he slipped the top of my dress off one shoulder, pulled down one cup of my bra, and was sucking on my nipple.

I groaned and fumbled blindly with his belt since I still had my eyes closed.

I didn’t want to see the people in the stained glass window – or think about them seeing what I was about to do.

I think I was taking too long, because Valentino finished unbuckling his pants for me. He unzipped his fly –

And suddenly I felt his hard cock in my hand, hot and thick.

I caressed his shaft and felt it stiffen even more.

He groaned –

And then his hands were hiking my dress up to my thighs.

His fingers hooked my underwear and pulled it down.

I quickly stepped out of them, leaving them on the wooden floor.

He pulled up my dress again –

Grabbed my ass and hoisted me up –

And as I looped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, I felt the firm pressure of his head between my lips.

“Oh!” I cried out as he pushed inside me.

First the thick, swollen crown –

Then the first couple of inches, which he withdrew till only the tip was inside me –

Then in and out, little by little, until most of his cock was covered in my wetness.

Then he plunged all the way inside me.

I kept my eyes closed as I cried out in ecstasy.

And then he began fucking me –

Right there in the middle of the chapel.

I moaned and shrieked as he thrust inside me, fwop fwop fwop fwop.

At one point, I opened my eyes in a daze –

And remembering where I was, I shut them again immediately.

Suddenly Valentino was walking with his cock still inside me.

I felt cool stone press against my back –

And he began fucking me against the wall of the church, harder and faster.

I couldn’t control myself.

As I came, my screams filled the rafters of the chapel.

And then I came again.

And again.

The wrongness of what we were doing –

The sacrilege of where we were doing it –

It made it so dirty.

And raw –

And nasty –

And sinful –

And sweet.

So, so sweet.

I needed this.

I wanted this.

I wanted him.

And if she was going to get to marry him here –

Then at least I got to fuck him here.

To claim him here.

To make him mine one last time.

I guess he got tired of holding me up because he gently lowered me to the floor.

Once I was lying down, he began whispering passionately in my ear as he fucked me even harder.

“Baby –

“Oh, fuck, Cat –

“Your pussy –

“You feel so good –

“I want to fuck you forever –

“To be inside you forever…”

I’m going to hell for this for SURE, I thought –

But as long as I was already going to hell, I was going to enjoy the ride.

And holy shit, did I enjoy the ride.

I came over and over, with one orgasm blending into another, until I didn’t know where one started and the next began.

Valentino kissed me hard, his tongue in my mouth, sliding over my tongue, and he groaned.

I felt him explode deep inside me –

His cum, thick and hot, filling me up.

I came even harder and screamed even louder.

When it was over –

When the spasms of his cock slowed down, then finally stopped…

And my own orgasm was fading into a pleasurable hum all over my body…

I realized what I’d done and cringed in shame.

I’d let him fuck me…

And then come inside me…

On the floor of a church.

Specifically, on the floor of the church he was getting married in tomorrow.

To another woman.

I’m going to hell, I’m going to hell, I KNOW I’m going to hell…

But in that moment?

Getting to have him one last time –

In one of the most passionate moments we’d ever shared?

It was worth it.

99

Val’s face was buried in my neck as he murmured, “Oh my God… holy shit…”

I giggled. “You shouldn’t curse in a church.”

“Considering what we just did, I think cursing in a church is the least of my sins.”

“Mm… probably so.”

He turned his face to mine –

We kissed –

And then he broke it off excitedly.

“I forgot to tell you the good news!” He chuckled. “Well, I guess I didn’t forget so much as I got distracted.”

My heart leapt in my chest.

You don’t have to marry her!

Say you don’t have to marry her –

Please, tell me you don’t have to marry her!

But when I spoke, I kept my voice neutral and calm. “What?”

“Isabella’s gay!”

I stared at him.

Not what I’d been hoping to hear.

He kept talking. “Remember that other girl in Ortigia? Ludavica? Isabella’s with her! So they’ll be together, and you and I can be together!

“Then why is she marrying YOU?” I asked, horrified.

“Because her family doesn’t know.”

Pain flooded my heart, and I pushed him off me as I turned my face away.

“What?” he asked, confused.

I couldn’t say anything.

I felt sick.

“What?!” he repeated. “I thought you’d be happy!”

I looked at him in horror. “Happy about what?”

“That you and I can keep on sleeping together after the wedding! Isabella knows, and she doesn’t care!”

I wanted to vomit.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?!” he asked.

I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t – not without screaming.

“Say something!” Valentino demanded angrily.

I tried to keep my voice calm as I answered. “You’re going to marry a girl you don’t want… who doesn’t want you… and who’s actually in love with another woman… and you’d rather do all that than be with me. And you thought I’d be happy about that?”

He looked as though I’d slapped him.

I stood up, walked over, retrieved my panties from the chapel floor, and stepped into them.

“It’s not like that,” he said as he got to his feet and zipped up his pants.

“What’s it like, then?!” I asked angrily.

“Babe – ” he said, reaching for me –

“Don’t!” I half-whispered, half-sobbed as I backed away from him.

“I have to do this. You know that. I have to do what Dario ordered me to. I have no choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

“But we can be together now!”

I swear to God, he sounded happy as he said it.

I stood there in agony.

I fucked him in a church…

And now I really AM in hell.

I didn’t say anything for a long while.

When I did, it was a whisper.

“…no.”

I could hear the disbelief in his voice. “…what?”

Tears started streaming down my cheeks. “Leave her. Come with me. Let’s run away and never look back.”

“Didn’t you hear anything I just said?!”

“Yes. I heard, and I’m still asking you. I’m begging you. Please.”

He stood there, caught between indecision and despair.

Then, finally:

“I can’t.”

That’s when I knew it:

This is it.

This is the end.

It’s over.

I sobbed, my entire body wracked with pain.

“Babe,” he whispered, and reached out again –

But I put up a hand to ward him off.

Eventually, I got enough control of myself to speak.

When I did, I smiled sadly.

“I love you,” I whispered. “I’ve always loved you – from the first moment we were together. I didn’t know it then, but I know it now. I want to be the one to marry you. I want to be the one to have your babies. I want to be the one you grow old with.

“But… you don’t want that. Not enough to actually do anything about it.

“And that’s… it sucks. It really, REALLY sucks. But it is what it is. You never promised me forever. You never lied, not once.

“But here’s the thing, Val: I’ve always been your dirty little secret. The servant girl you fucked in the pantry. The one you wouldn’t admit to your family you were sleeping with. The one you didn’t want to marry.”

His face contorted in pain. “Cat – ”

“Just – let me finish, alright? I need to say this – for me – so let me finish. Please. Just give me that.”

He stood there in silence, waiting.

I looked down at the floor… sobbed again for a few seconds… then looked up and forced myself to say it.

“I can’t do it anymore. I can’t go on being the second choice… the dirty little secret you’re ashamed of.

“I love you. A part of me will always love you. But… now I have to start loving myself.”

I went up to him…

Kissed him softly on the cheek…

And walked out of the chapel, sobbing my heart out.

But I never looked back.

100

Valentino

Iwatched her walk away.

I wanted to run after her more than anything in the world –

But I didn’t.

Because I knew she was right…

And the least I could do was let her go.

I’ve always been your dirty little secret.

The servant girl you fucked in the pantry.

The one you wouldn’t admit to your family you were sleeping with.

The one you didn’t want to marry.

I felt worse than I ever had in my entire life.

Even worse than when my father died.

Because what I had with Cat had died, too…

And it was all my fucking fault.

I love you.

A part of me will always love you.

But… now I have to start loving myself.

I watched her through the open door of the chapel until she disappeared in the distance.

And when I knew she was gone…

And there was no chance she could see me…

I sank down on the floor…

And I cried.

I stayed in the chapel for over an hour, staring at the wall, haunted by how much I’d lost –

And how seriously I’d fucked up my life.

Finally, I walked out and shut the doors…

Like I was burying something inside.

My happiness, maybe.

Or a little bit of my soul.

I stumbled back towards Don Vicari’s like a zombie.

That’s exactly what I felt like:

A zombie.

Dead inside.

When I got back to the compound, none of the foot soldiers bothered me.

Nobody said anything until Isabella saw me shuffling up to my room.

“How did it – ” she started happily –

And then she saw my face.

Her eyes widened, and she looked like she might cry.

“Oh, Valentino,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry…”

“…me too,” I mumbled, then turned and kept on walking.

“Valentino?” she asked.

I stopped but didn’t look back at her.

“You and I… we’re still… we’re still good, right?” I could hear the fear in her voice. “We’re still getting married tomorrow… right?”

I stared straight ahead.

“…yes,” I finally muttered.

After all…

I didn’t have any other choice.

101

That was the worst night of my life.

I didn’t come out of my room for dinner. I just laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, and thought about all the things I could have done differently.

I couldn’t sleep.

All I could do was replay the scene with Cat over and over.

I love you.

A part of me will always love you.

But… now I have to start loving myself.

It was good she’d said that.

About loving herself.

Because I knew I’d never loved her well enough…

And that was why she had to leave.

Part of me didn’t know how she walked out.

If it had been me, I’m not sure I could have left her.

I had to hand it to Cat…

She was a hell of a lot braver than I ever was.

The night dragged on like it would never end…

And then it did.

The sun came up…

Cold morning light glowed through the window…

And I forced myself out of bed.

I had to.

After all…

I was getting married today.

I took my tuxedo out of the wardrobe. The same one Niccolo had told me, You’ll need it to get married in.

I wanted to take a straight razor to it.

Rip it into shreds and burn it.

But I put it on all the same.

Maybe they could bury me in it.

102

Caterina

After the chapel, I ran back to my room at the bed and breakfast. I sobbed openly in the streets.

People looked at me in concern as I passed, but I hid my face and ignored them.

As soon as I was back in my room, I texted Alessandra.

I did it. It’s over.

She immediately called, and we cried together.

I told her everything Valentino had said –

Including the part about Isabella.

“She’s GAY?!” Alessandra gasped.

“Yes.”

“Maybe that’s grounds for stopping the wedding!”

I thought about how nice Isabella had been when I met her in Ortigia…

And realized that if she was hiding it from her family, there was probably a damn good reason.

“Would she be in danger from her father if he knew?” I asked.

Alessandra paused. “…yes. She probably would.”

I remembered what Valentino had said about Don Vicari.

Her father’s a fucking psychopath, and yesterday I saw what he did to somebody who crossed him. It wasn’t pretty. In fact, it was pretty fucking horrible.

“No,” I murmured. “Forget about it. Besides, it’s over.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“…yes.”

I paused.

“No. I don’t know,” I whispered.

And it was true.

I had no idea if I would ever be alright again.

It sure as hell didn’t feel like it.

I’d told Valentino, I have to start loving myself.

But I didn’t feel like I was loving myself.

In fact, it didn’t feel like there was anything left to love.

I’d left my heart and soul back in that chapel…

…with him.

“We’ll be flying in tomorrow just before noon,” Alessandra told me. “Do you want me to come find you after the – afterwards?”

I knew she’d almost said ‘after the wedding.’

I was glad she hadn’t.

The words – even unsaid – felt like a needle through my heart.

I didn’t know if I could bear to hear them aloud.

“No. I don’t want Don Rosolini or Niccolo to find out you helped me.”

“I don’t care if they know.”

“Well, I do. I don’t want to get you in trouble – not after everything you’ve done for me.”

“It feels like I haven’t done anything,” she said angrily. “I almost want to help you burn down the chapel, or – or create some kind of disaster so it can’t happen.”

I laughed. “Well… I kind of already desecrated it.”

“What are you talking about?”

When I told her, Alessandra gasped.

“YOU DIDN’T!”

“I did.”

“OH MY GOD!”

“Maybe it won’t count. Them getting married, I mean.”

“I wish that were the case.” Then she joked, “Well… I guess a part of you will be there, anyway.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “My ass-print on the floor.”

I began to giggle.

So did she –

And we laughed until we cried.

I told Alessandra I would call her after I left Sicily. Maybe we could meet in Florence once everything was over.

What I didn’t say was that I was afraid it would never be over.

Not for me.

I thought about leaving Resuttano immediately – getting a taxi to Catania and flying out that very afternoon –

But I couldn’t.

I was exhausted. Utterly spent.

And the idea of trying to figure out what to do – where to go – paralyzed me.

I think, too, that in the back of my mind, I was hoping Alessandra was right.

That some disaster would occur…

So the wedding wouldn’t happen…

And Valentino would finally come for me.

If I wasn’t physically nearby, he wouldn’t be able to find me. So I couldn’t leave.

Not yet.

I knew it was all just a fantasy –

But I didn’t have anything else to keep me going.

I’d told Alessandra that girls like us didn’t get fairytale endings.

She did, though.

Apparently, all I got was a fairy tale…

And one that would never come true.

But it was all I had.

I didn’t sleep – not one wink.

I just lay in bed and cried.

At some point in the middle of the night, though, I started thinking about things Alessandra had said.

I guess a part of you will be there.

Maybe that’s grounds for stopping the wedding!

Some kind of disaster so it can’t happen.

Maybe it was my exhaustion…

Maybe I’d gone insane from sorrow…

Or maybe after what I’d done in the chapel, a demon got hold of me.

But I began to realize I could stop the wedding all by myself.

I wouldn’t ‘out’ Isabella – there was no way I would do that –

But there was something else I could do that would stop everything in its tracks.

I was raised Catholic, but I’d been to a couple of Protestant weddings – and it had always shocked me when the priest (or preacher, or whatever Protestants called them) said, If anyone present knows of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.

I’d always looked around, holding my breath to see if anybody said anything.

My Protestant friends were kind of wild, so there was always a chance –

But nobody ever spoke up.

But there’s always a first time, I thought excitedly.

The only problem was that Catholic priests never said the part about ‘If anyone knows of any reason.’

Maybe it’s time they did, I thought grimly.

Or I can just say it my own fuckin’ self.

When the morning light peeked through the window, I hopped out of bed.

I had to get ready to go to a wedding.

103

Valentino

Ididn’t go down to breakfast. I would have thrown up anything I tried to eat.

Nobody bothered me until 11 AM when a foot soldier knocked on my door. “The boss wants to see you in his study.”

I shuffled downstairs to see what the Devil had to say.

Don Vicari looked up at me angrily when I walked in –

But I guess the tuxedo took him by surprise.

“You’re already dressed,” he said, almost in wonder.

“Didn’t you hear? I’m getting married today.”

I meant it sarcastically… though it came out more depressed.

Vicari looked at me for a long while.

He must have decided I was finally broken because he didn’t push it further.

He just stood up behind his desk and said, “Your brothers will be here in a few minutes. Do you want to go meet them?”

“Why not,” I muttered.

Might as well go see the people I’d sacrificed the rest of my life for.

Our SUV was part of a fleet of black cars that drove to an airstrip several miles from the house.

I noticed the runway was in the exact opposite direction from the chapel.

I wished we could drive past it and keep on going forever.

No such luck.

The cars parked about 200 feet back from the airstrip.

Don Vicari and I sat in the back seat of the SUV.

Nobody spoke until we heard the low roar of an approaching plane.

“Here they come,” the driver announced.

I watched out the window as a passenger jet came in for a landing.

It was a brand new Gulfstream – completely unlike the outdated relic Nicolo and I had flown over in.

I started to get out of the SUV –

“Wait,” Don Vicari commanded.

We sat there until the door of the plane opened up, and two men walked out onto the airstrip.

When I saw Lars was the first man, relief washed through me.

Niccolo was the second –

And all my relief turned to rage.

“Let’s go,” Don Vicari said.

A dozen of his foot soldiers accompanied us as we walked towards the plane.

“Stop here,” Don Vicari said when we were 30 feet away.

I ignored him and kept on walking.

What was he going to do – refuse to let his daughter marry me?

Lars grinned at me – then frowned as I got closer.

“What the hell happened to you?” he asked. I knew he meant my bruises and cuts.

“It was a rough week.”

“Jesus,” Niccolo said. “You look like death warmed over.”

“Nice to see you, too… bro,” I snarled.

Nic looked surprised – but if he had a comeback, he bit his tongue.

I hugged Lars. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Likewise.”

After I let go of Lars, Niccolo moved to hug me –

But I stepped back out of reach.

Nic just stood there, a stony look on his face.

“Hello, Consigliere,” Vicari said mockingly. “Where’s your Don?”

“Still onboard the plane,” Niccolo answered.

“That’s a shiny toy you have there.”

“On loan from Signora Ferretti.” Niccolo smiled politely. “She sends her regards, by the way.”

“How nice of the Widow to do so,” Vicari sneered. “Tell your boss he can come out now.”

“First we need to lay down some ground rules.”

“Really,” Vicari said.

I knew that tone of voice.

It was the way he’d addressed his own consigliere back in the barn… right before he’d burned him alive.

Careful, Niccolo, I thought nervously.

“I know it’s customary at weddings for the guests to arrive unarmed,” Niccolo said.He was talking about Cosa Nostra weddings.

Nobody had come to Adriano’s wedding because they thought we’d betrayed the Agrellas, so it was a moot point –

But tons of families had come to Dario’s wedding, and they’d all checked their guns at the door.

On wedding days, all differences were put aside. If you couldn’t do that, you just didn’t show up.

For a mafia don to allow his guests to be harmed at a wedding he was hosting would be an infamia – and the rest of the Cosa Nostra would kill him for it.

“However,” Nic continued, “this is anything but a customary wedding, and the circumstances are anything but ordinary. So we need to hold onto our guns.”

“The hell you will,” Vicari barked.

“I’m afraid, given the situation with my uncle, it’s non-negotiable.”

Vicari’s face grew red. “You insult me by insinuating I would let something happen to you on my daughter’s wedding day?”

Like you give a shit about your daughter, I thought.

“Blame me,” Lars said.

Vicari stared daggers at him. “And who the fuck are you?”

“Don Rosolini’s head of security. Given that he and his brothers have survived several assassination attempts over the last three weeks, I can’t allow them to be unarmed. I’m sure you can understand.”

“So you’re the Enforcer,” Vicari said with an ugly laugh. “What are you – a Swede?”

“I am.”

“You speak pretty good Italian for a Swede.”

“Thank you.”

“So you should understand it when I say this, Swede: FUCK OFF. This is Cosa Nostra business. Shut the fuck up and keep your goddamn nose out of it.”

I held my breath.

For a mafia don to say that to another mafia don’s Enforcer –

It was basically the same thing as spitting in the Don’s face.

Lars didn’t react to the insult.

I noticed Niccolo clenched his jaw, though.

Vicari turned to Nic and said, “Here’s the deal, Consigliere: my men will take your guns now. You have my word that no harm will come to you or anyone else on that plane today. I swear it on the soul of my departed wife. That should be enough for you.”

“I have no doubt that you will do your best to keep us safe, Don Vicari,” Niccolo said, “but you can’t swear on behalf of my uncle. So we’re keeping our guns… or I’m getting on the plane with my Head of Security and we’re flying back home.”

I stared at Nic in shock.

Vicari shrugged. “Fuck off, then.”

He turned towards the cars and signaled his men to follow him –

“And we’ll be taking Valentino with us,” Niccolo said.

My heart stopped when he said that.

YES –

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PLEASE!

This whole shitshow might finally be over, and I could go get Cat!

Vicari turned back slowly and glared at Niccolo. “The hell you will.”

“Relax, Don Vicari. You’ll have guns… we’ll have guns… it’ll be an old-style mafia wedding where everyone’s packing,” Niccolo said with a cold smile. Then he dropped the smile. “Or there will be no wedding at all.”

Vicari stared at Nic hatefully for another moment…

And then a cruel smile crept across his face.

“An old-style mafia wedding,” he said with a dark chuckle. “Why the hell not.”

My heart plunged.

My fate was sealed.

“Then it’s agreed?” Niccolo asked.

“Agreed,” Vicari said. “Bring out your family.”

“Everyone,” Niccolo called out loudly, “Don Vicari has graciously agreed to our request. You can come out now.”

104

Dario was the first off the plane. He held his hand out to help Alessandra descend the steps.

“Don Vicari,” he said once they both reached the ground, “thank you for your hospitality.”

Now Vicari was all sugar and spice. “It’s my great honor and privilege to have you on my island today, Don Rosolini.”

Of course, we all noticed how he said MY island.

As though all of Sicily belonged to him.

As Dario approached me, he looked at my face and frowned. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” I said grimly.

Dario looked over at Vicari –

“It was somebody else,” I muttered.

“A traitor,” Vicari said loudly. “Rest assured, once my men apprehend him, the scoundrel will spend a very long, very miserable time paying for it.”

“A traitor?!” Niccolo asked with fake surprise. “And you didn’t want us to keep our guns.”

Vicari just scowled at him.

Dario gave me a half-smile, then hugged me. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too.”

Once he let go of me, Alessandra was waiting. I could see from the pain in her eyes that she knew everything that had happened with Cat.

She hugged me tight and whispered in my ear, “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you.”

She pulled back to look at me. “Are you alright?”

“…no. No, I’m not.”

She nodded sadly, then joined Dario.

Adriano and Bianca came next.

“Jesus,” he grinned as he hugged me, “I’d hate to see the other guy.”

Me, too, considering he’s a bloated corpse right now, I thought.

Bianca and I air-kissed on both cheeks, and then she and Adriano joined Dario and Alessandra.

Next off the plane was Massimo.

Seeing him was a complete shock.

He descended the stairs like an old man, slowly and carefully, wincing with every step.

Once he reached the tarmac, he used a cane to hobble over to me.

I knew he’d been hurt badly in the gunfight –

But actually seeing it shook me to my core.

Massimo was the biggest and the strongest of all of us – a mountain.

If this could happen to him…

Then anything could happen to any of us.

He smiled as he limped over. “I like your face. It’s an improvement.”

I laughed.

Same old Massimo.

I hugged him –

But I heard him suck in his breath in pain.

That’s when I knew it was really bad.

I immediately let go of him. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t worry, rimbambito,” he said, using his favorite insult for me: numb nuts. “You look worse than I feel.”

“Thanks,” I said sarcastically, but we both laughed.

Then I noticed someone was behind him –

A really beautiful but really short chick, barely five feet tall.

I stared at her in surprise. “Who’s this?”

“Ah,” Massimo said. “Lucia, meet my brother Valentino. Valentino, Lucia.”

“You probably know me as the Widow’s granddaughter,” the girl said with a smirk as she air-kissed me on the right and left sides of my face.

I laughed. If she was cool using her grandmother’s nickname like that, I figured she was all right.

“Lucia’s my fiancée,” Massimo added.

I stared at him in shock – then looked at her for confirmation.

“It’s true!” she laughed as she held out her left hand.

There were two rings on her finger:

A beautiful gold one with rubies and pearls…

And what looked like a cheap plastic imitation.

“I don’t understand,” I said, stunned.

“Some crazy shit’s happened over the last three weeks,” Lucia said.

“That’s putting it mildly,” another voice said.

I looked over to see Roberto, impeccable in a three-piece suit with his hair slicked back.

He grinned. “Good to see you in one piece. Even if you are a little worse for wear.”

“Same here.”

As we hugged, I whispered, “Everything’s cool? You got the money?”

“I got the money,” he confirmed. “We live to fight another day.”

“Good, I…”

I trailed off as the hottest Asian chick I’d ever seen came walking down the steps of the plane.

“What the hell?” I exclaimed.

“Ah – this is Mei-ling,” Roberto said. “My fiancée.”

I stared at him. “WHAT?!”

“It was a surprise to us, too,” Niccolo said dourly.

“Hey – I got the funds back,” Roberto reminded him.

“Yes, as you keep reminding me,” Niccolo retorted.

“Hello,” the Asian woman said in a sexy British accent. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“Uh… yeah… you, too,” I said as I shook her hand.

“Some crazy shit happened in Hong Kong, too,” Lucia joked.

“Did everybody get a fiancée while I was gone?” I asked – and not happily.

After all, they apparently got to choose THEIRS.

“Um…” Lars said. “Actually… yes.”

I stared at him. “What the fuck?!”

He pointed at the plane, and I turned around –

To see Wonder Woman walking down the steps.

Okay, she wasn’t Wonder Woman, exactly…

But she was the spitting image of Gal Gadot: tall, athletic, and hot as hell in a slinky blue dress slit all the way up her thigh.

“I’m Rachel,” she said with a smile and yet another British accent. “Nice to meet you.”

I stared at her. “Wait – aren’t you the one who tried to kill Dario?!”

She winced. “It was a misunderstanding.”

“All is forgiven,” Dario reassured me.

“I… okay,” I said, stunned, as I shook Rachel’s hand.

“Crazy shit, right?” Lucia chimed in.

Niccolo glared at her. “Could you not curse so much?”

“Could you fuck off?” Lucia replied sweetly.

Niccolo just grumbled to himself and looked away, shaking his head.

“If you’re done with the introductions,” Don Vicari said loudly, “we should make our way to the chapel. My daughter and other members of my family will be arriving there shortly.”

“Let’s go,” Dario said, then hugged me around the shoulders with one arm as we all made our way to the cars.

I walked to the SUV, stunned.

It looked like everybody in my family got a fucking happy ending to their stories –

Except me.

105

Caterina

After I showered and did my hair, I got dressed.

Of all the decisions I made that morning, you would think the one to go crash a mafia wedding would be the hardest.

But no –

I agonized over the dress.

When Valentino saw me, I wanted to look as beautiful as possible.

I kept going back and forth between a blue one and a white one –

Until I realized, I can’t wear white!

I don’t want to upstage the bride on her wedding day.

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I burst out laughing hysterically.

But I still went with the blue.

I got to the chapel a quarter before 11.

I’d been planning on earlier, but I’d stalled and procrastinated…

Mostly because I knew this was the most insane thing I’d ever done in my life.

I think part of me was hoping everybody would already be there and it would be impossible to go forward with my plan.

I watched the chapel like a hawk the entire time I approached it –

But no one was there.

No flower vans, no cars, nothing.

If there had been anyone there, I would have backed out.

But the chapel was deserted…

So I kept going.

When I opened the door and walked inside, I glanced around and winced.

I’d fucked Valentino there, standing up…

And there against the wall…

And there on the floor.

Not that the memories were bad.

Far from it. In fact, they were incredibly hot.

But considering where we’d done it, I was mortified.

I checked the confession box where I was planning to hide.

Nothing inside but a wooden seat and a threadbare velvet cushion.

I had a little time, so I figured I better cover all my bases and apologize.

I went to the front of the church, stood beside the table full of prayer candles, and looked up at the stained glass window.

Jesus’s face was raised in agony to the sky. The Virgin Mary looked equally in pain.

It felt like they were averting their eyes from the horrible sinner.

“I am so sorry about yesterday,” I whispered. “Please forgive me.”

I crossed myself and started for the confessional –

Then turned back and whispered, “And if you could, please help me pull this off. Amen.”

Suddenly, I heard voices outside: two men calling to one another.

“There’s nobody out here.”

“Check inside anyway.”

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head.

THEY’RE EARLY!

But I hadn’t heard any cars –

And the wedding wasn’t supposed to be until noon!

“Shit!” I hissed, then glanced back over at my shoulder at Jesus and Mary and whispered, “Sorry!”

Then I started tiptoeing as fast as I could for the confession box.

One of the men’s voices suddenly called out in alarm, “Hey – the door’s open!”

SHIT!

There was no way I was going to make it to the confessional in time.

And even if I could, this was a mafia wedding. They were going to check every possible hiding spot for assassins.

You IDIOT!

It would serve me right to get killed in a church I’d desecrated.

I looked around wildly.

Think, Cat, THINK –

And then I saw the answer to my prayers:

A place to say prayers.

I hustled back to the table full of candles and found a tiny box of matches.

I fumbled it open. My hand was trembling as I struck a match and lit a candle.

I heard the squeak of floorboards far behind me –

Then a man yelled, “Hey you – turn around! Slowly!”

I looked over my shoulder –

And screamed.

A tall man in a black suit and tie stood 50 feet away with a pistol aimed at me.

When I freaked out, he must have realized I wasn’t a danger, because he lowered the gun.

“What are you doing here?!” he yelled at me.

“What am I doing here?!” I yelled back. “What are you doing in here with a gun?!”

Of course, I knew exactly what he was doing:

Making sure the church was safe for a mafia wedding.

He put his pistol in a holster under his jacket and walked up to me. “You can’t be in here.”

“I’m saying prayers for my mother who died last week!” I wailed at him. “And you come into a house of God with a gun, telling me I can’t be here?!”

“Keep it down,” he said gruffly.

A much shorter man appeared as a silhouette in the doorway.

He had his gun out, too –

Which made me scream again.

“What the fuck?!” the short guy shouted.

“It’s just some woman saying prayers,” the tall man answered.

“Well, get her the fuck out!”

“What are you doing in here with guns – and cursing?!” I yelled.

You hypocrite, I thought.

You were doing a LOT worse in here yesterday.

But I still kept going. “This is a place of worship! This is a – ”

“Get the fuck outta here, lady!” the short man yelled – but he holstered his gun, too.

“I’m saying prayers for my mother!” I said, my voice on the edge of tears – which was easy to do, considering how terrified I was. “She died – ”

“Last week, I heard,” the tall guy said. “You still have to leave.”

“But I don’t know if she died in a state of grace! She had cancer, but the priest got there too late for Last Rites! I don’t know if she – ”

“All right, all right,” the tall guy said wearily. “Say your prayers and get out.”

“What the fuck, man?!” the short guy shouted.

“Go check the confessional!” the tall man yelled back at him. “And stop cursing – it’s a church.”

“It’s a fuckin’ chapel,” the short guy said contemptuously.

“A chapel’s still a church. Now check it.”

The short guy muttered curses under his breath as he walked over to the confession booth and opened both doors – first the one for the priest, then the one.

Thank God I didn’t hide in there.

“Empty,” the short guy announced, then said to his partner, “Go check in the back.”

As I lit another match and a couple of candles, the tall guy went to the back of the chapel and poked around.

Once he was satisfied no killers were hiding in wait, he walked over and pointed a finger at me.

“You got ten minutes. Say your prayers and get out.”

“Thank you,” I said gratefully.

I listened as they walked outside bickering.

“Why the fuck did you let her stay?”

“She’s just saying prayers. What’s the harm?”

“The harm is the boss’ll have your fuckin’ balls if she ain’t gone by the time he shows up!”

“She’s just a broad sayin’ prayers. She ain’t no threat.”

Once their voices faded away, I tiptoed over to the confessional booth and hid inside.

Please, Mother Mary…

I know I don’t deserve your help after what I did in here yesterday…

But please, PLEASE don’t let them find me.

106

Valentino

We arrived at the chapel shortly before noon.

My brothers and their wives – and fiancées, for fuck’s sake – were all in the other cars.

I rode with my future father-in-law. Neither one of us said anything the entire way.

The entire time, I was seething inside.

Every single ONE of them got the woman they wanted –

But me?

NO.

I’m the one who has to throw away my entire goddamn life!

As we drove up to the chapel, I saw two of Vicari’s goons out front – one tall, one short.

They were smoking cigarettes, which they quickly threw on the ground and stomped out.

Vicari got out of the SUV and walked over to them. “Well?”

“Nobody around, sir,” the tall one answered.

“Well…” the short one muttered, “there was a chick inside.”

Vicari looked at him sharply. “What?”

“Some woman whose mother died last week, sir,” the tall one said, giving his shorter partner some serious side-eye. “She was saying prayers.”

“Where is she?!” Vicari demanded.

“Uh…” The tall one looked around at the open door to the chapel. “She left, sir.”

“She left?” Vicari asked incredulously. “You didn’t throw her out?!”

The tall one winced. “She was just some woman saying prayers for her dead mother, sir…”

“Idiots!” Vicari snarled, then walked back towards me.

“I fuckin’ told you,” the short one muttered to the tall one under his breath.

“Problems?” Niccolo asked as he got out of his car.

“No,” Vicari answered. “No problems at all.”

Suddenly, I heard an engine in the distance.

I looked over to see a silver car heading for the chapel.

Vicari’s men went for their guns –

“Calm yourselves,” he said loudly. “That’ll be the priest.”

Everyone watched as a silver Rolls Royce pulled up beside Vicari’s fleet of vehicles, and a chauffeur in a suit hopped out.

When he opened the rear door, an elderly man got out. He wore black velvet robes with a red zucchetto – the traditional skullcap worn by bigwigs in the Catholic Church.

“Your Excellency,” Vicari said as he bowed his head to the priest.

“Signor Vicari, so good to see you on this blessed day,” the old man said. “I trust you have what we discussed?”

Vicari handed the man a fat envelope, which disappeared into the priest’s robes.

“Very good, very good,” the old man said. Then he looked at me and winced. “Good heavens, boy – what happened to your face?”

“The bottom of the Mediterranean, padre,” I said.

“Oh… you’re the groom, I presume?”

“Yes,” Vicari answered for me.

“And the bride?”

“My daughter will be along any moment.”

“Wonderful. In that case, I’ll go ahead and prepare for the ceremony.”

The old man hobbled inside the chapel as the chauffeur stayed outside with the Rolls.

In the distance, half a dozen black cars came from the direction of Don Vicari’s compound.

“My family are here,” he announced.

The cars pulled up next to the Rolls, and everyone inside spilled out.

First there was Rocco. For once, he was dressed in a suit.

He walked towards the chapel with a woman carrying a screaming toddler.

As he passed by me, he looked at my face and smirked.

He was less confident when he faced his father. He apparently hadn’t wormed his way back into Don Vicari’s good graces quite yet.

“Ciao, Papa. I’m gonna go inside and – ”

“Wait here for Nonna,” Don Vicari snapped. “Your wife can go in.”

Rocco sheepishly obeyed, gesturing for his wife to go inside.

Next were the sisters, Abriana and Marcella, and their brood of children. Accompanying them were their husbands, two of Rocco’s henchmen I’d seen in Pozzallo and Gela. They all followed Rocco’s wife into the chapel.

Then came the old lady – Don Vicari’s grandmother and Isabella’s great-grandmother.

Vicari helped her out of the car and walked her over to Rocco.

As she passed by me, she gave me a sunny smile.

Even though I felt awful, I did my best to smile back.

Then Rocco took her arm and helped her up the steps of the chapel.

107

Caterina

As I sat in the confession booth, my heart pounded in terror as I listened to the cars drive up outside.

Please, Mother Mary, PLEASE don’t let them look in here… PLEASE…

She must have interceded with God on my behalf – or at least convinced Him to temporarily overlook my sins – because no one bothered to check the confessional.

I listened to creaking footsteps pass by. An old man’s voice muttered as he counted something.

“…eight thousand… nine thousand… good, it’s all there.”

He continued up the aisle.

Moments later, more footsteps followed. There was a screaming baby, followed by couples scolding older children to be quiet.

Eventually, I heard very slow footsteps and a man’s impatient voice.

“Come on, Bisnonna… hurry it up…”

I began to hyperventilate.

What the hell am I doing here?!

What the hell was I thinking –

Interrupting a mafia wedding?!

THIS IS INSANE!

But I couldn’t back out now.

I definitely couldn’t leave without being seen.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

And if Our Lady smiled on her wayward daughter…

Maybe Valentino could be mine once and for all.

108

Valentino

Ludavica emerged from the back seat of the last car.

She did not look happy – and I knew exactly why.

She and I were in the same boat:

Neither of us was going to get to marry the woman we loved.

“Where’s Isabella?” I asked.

Ludavica gestured towards the car. “Waiting for you to go inside.”

“Why?”

She looked at me like I was stupid. “Because you’re not supposed to see the bride until she gets to the altar.”

“Oh… right.”

The bride.

Knowing that the next time I saw Isabella, she would become my wife –

It made my stomach hurt.

I tried to distract myself with chitchat.

“You look nice,” I told Ludavica.

“Thanks,” she said glumly.

She was dressed in a pale pink dress, looking all the world like a bridesmaid –

Which is when I realized that’s exactly what she was.

“Wait – are you the maid of honor?” I asked, shocked.

“Duh,” she said in irritation.

“But I don’t have a best man!”

She glanced past me at my brothers. “Looks like you have plenty of options.”

I turned to look at them.

Dario?

No. He was the Don. I couldn’t ask him – it just wasn’t done.

Niccolo –

FUCK no.

Adriano or Roberto would have been a good choice –

But in the end, I knew who it had to be.

“Hey, Massimo,” I called out, “would you be my best man?”

“You’re asking me now?”

“Yes or no, asshole?”

He grinned. “It’d be my honor. Where are the rings?”

I froze.

I had no idea.

“Here,” Don Vicari said as he walked over and held them out in the palm of his hand.

Massimo struggled to pick them up with his giant fingers.

“How did you know my ring size?” I asked Vicari.

“I didn’t. My daughter’s will fit – you can get yours resized later,” he said dismissively.

Massimo looked at me like Jesus.

Vicari leaned in close and said in a voice only I could hear, “Don’t fuck this up.”

“I won’t,” I snarled.

He glared at me, then turned to the crowd and spoke loudly. “The rest of you can take your places. I’ll escort my daughter inside once you’re settled.”

Everyone filed inside the church – Dario and Alessandra, Adriano and Bianca, Lucia, Roberto and Mei-ling, Lars and Rachel, and Niccolo.

Not to mention a dozen of Don Vicari’s foot soldiers.

As Massimo began to limp inside with his cane, I paused at the doorway and thought of Cat.

Of everything we’d done in the chapel yesterday –

And what she’d said right before she walked out.

I’ve always been your dirty little secret.

The servant girl you fucked in the pantry.

The one you wouldn’t admit to your family you were sleeping with.

The one you didn’t want to marry.

I must have been staring off into space, because Massimo turned and looked back at me.

“You ready?” he asked gently.

I took a long moment to answer.

“No,” I finally muttered. “But let’s fuckin’ get it over with.”

109

The walk down the aisle was the longest of my entire life.

Like I was heading to my own execution.

But still, I took my place at the altar with Massimo.

The priest was there. So was Ludavica. I knew she was miserable inside, but she had a good poker face.

I looked out at the pews.

My brothers, Lars, and their wives and fiancées were sitting on my side of the aisle…

While Don Vicari’s grandmother, his sons and daughters and their families, and his foot soldiers sat on the other.

There wasn’t any music. No organ or piano – not even a recording.

It was just as well.

I was miserable, Ludavica was miserable, and I was pretty sure Isabella wasn’t that happy, either.

Then I heard floorboards creaking.

Don Vicari was at the end of the aisle, walking arm-in-arm with Isabella.

She wore an old-fashioned but pretty white dress and a veil that covered her face.

In her hand was a bouquet of wildflowers.

I was pretty sure Ludavica had picked them.

The last gift she could give the woman she loved…

Before she married someone else.

I couldn’t give Cat a gift…

Unless you counted her freedom from me.

I watched somberly as Isabella and Don Vicari made their way up the aisle.

To my left, I saw movement.

Niccolo was pointing at his face and forcing a toothy grin.

I got the message:

Smile.

I sent him a message of my own with my eyes:

Fuck off, asshole.

Then I turned back to Isabella and Don Vicari.

Everything in me felt heavy and depressed.

The woman in the white dress should’ve been Cat.

Today should have been our wedding.

And the only reason it wasn’t…

Was because I’d fucked it all up.

110

Caterina

Isat in the confessional holding my breath.

I heard footsteps coming down the aisle.

I knew it was the bride and her father…

And my heart broke.

I wanted to cry, but I had to stay quiet, so I forced back my tears.

All I could think was, That should be ME.

That should be ME marrying him today…

Not a woman who doesn’t even love him.

111

Valentino

Don Vicari helped Isabella up the stairs, then took his place on the front pew next to his grandmother.

I noticed that Isabella lingered for a moment, her face towards Ludavica…

And Ludavica pressed her lips together as tears filled her eyes.

I know how you feel, I thought.

Then Isabella turned to me and pulled back her veil.

She looked very pretty. She wore only minimal makeup, and her hair was done.

She smiled haltingly at me like, I’m sorry.

I managed to give her a half-smile back. It’s not your fault.

Then the priest began to speak.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

Everyone in the pews responded, “Amen.”

And that’s when my life started to slip away right in front of my eyes.

112

Caterina

The priest started to speak.

At that point, my heart wasn’t just breaking –

It felt like it might explode from fear.

This is it.

This is the moment to do it –

This is when I should run out there and yell, ‘He can’t marry her – because he loves ME!’

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t move.

I just sat there, terrified, and silently wept.

113

Valentino

The priest started reading Bible verses. All about God making man in his image, then creating woman…

There was other stuff, but I tuned it out.

All I could think about was Cat and how I could’ve married her back home.

About how she knew I’d said ‘no’ when Dario offered me a chance…

And how that must have broken her heart.

But she still stuck by me.

She risked everything to come to Sicily to be with me.

She’d begged me, over and over, to run away with her –

But I’d always said ‘no.’

Why?

Because I had to do it ‘for the family.’

We didn’t know if Massimo and Lars were alive or dead.

And if Roberto didn’t come through, we’d be too broke to fight Fausto.

But Massimo was alive. He was right behind me.

Lars was alive, too.

And Roberto had gotten the money.

In short, all the reasons Niccolo had arranged this marriage –

None of them applied anymore.

And yet I was still going through with it.

Not to mention Massimo, Lars, and Roberto all got to choose the women they wanted to be with.

Not me.

No, Niccolo had decided that for me –

And I fucking hated him for it.

But…

As I stood there listening to the priest drone on and on…

I realized that it wasn’t Niccolo’s fault.

Not really.

Yeah, he’d arranged it all…

But I kept blaming him because I didn’t want to take responsibility.

I had the chance to marry Cat.

I had the chance to run away with her.

I had the option to say No to my family.

I could’ve said, I love her, and I want to be with her, and I’m not marrying Isabella, and that’s that.

But I didn’t.

Because…

In the end…

I was the piece of shit in all of this.

Weeks ago at dinner with Don Vicari, I’d stood up to the fucker when he was an asshole to Isabella.

Because there was an unspoken rule:

A man who won’t stick up for his woman is a piece of shit, unworthy of respect.

And yet…

I hadn’t stood up for Caterina.

I hadn’t stood up for the woman I loved.

I hadn’t even admitted to myself that I loved her until it was too late –

But I’d known.

I’d always known.

It was just like Cat had said:

I’d always treated her like a dirty little secret –

Like a side chick instead of the woman I loved.

Because I was fucking stupid.

Because I wanted my ‘freedom.’

Because I didn’t want to be tied down.

But it all came down to one thing:

I’d acted like a boy…

Not a man.

I’d failed the ultimate test of being a man, and the only one that fucking mattered:

I hadn’t treasured the woman I loved.

I’d let her down over and over and over again.

Cat had never let me down, not once –

But I’d failed her every single time.

I’d been stupid…

And immature…

And selfish…

And I fucking hated myself for it.

It wasn’t Niccolo who was to blame; it was me.

And now I was going to pay for it for the rest of my life.

114

Caterina

As the priest kept going on and on, I silently screamed at myself.

GO!

DO IT!

YOU COWARD!

But something held me back.

At first I thought it was the fear of walking out there in front of Don Rosolini and Niccolo –

Not to mention a lot of other scary mafia people.

I wondered if I was afraid of dying –

But that wasn’t it.

I knew that if it came down to it, I would die for Valentino. And I’d do it happily, as long as he held me in his arms as I slipped away, and the last thing I got to see was the love in his eyes.

Then I wondered if it was because I was ashamed.

Of making a scene –

Of being the ‘other woman’ –

Of crashing in somewhere I obviously wasn’t wanted.

But that wasn’t it, either.

I would’ve done anything to be with him.

I would’ve borne any insult, been shamed within an inch of my life –

If he would just love me in the end.

That’s when I finally realized what I was afraid of:

That he didn’t love me.

That if I went out there and made a grand gesture, he’d ask me coldly, Why are YOU here?

You’re not wanted.

It’s over.

GO AWAY.

He’d chosen his family over me.

He’d chosen a woman he didn’t even love over me.

I’d tried, I’d begged, I’d pleaded with him to love me –

But all of his actions showed he didn’t.

And that was what I couldn’t face.

I couldn’t go out there with my heart exposed and have him say, You’re embarrassing me.

I don’t want you here.

LEAVE.

When he first told me about the arranged marriage and left for Sicily, it nearly killed me.

And when I walked out of the chapel yesterday, that had almost finished the job.

I couldn’t stand in front of him and play the fool again.

I loved him…

But it was obvious he didn’t love me back.

Not enough, anyway.

And so I stayed there in the confessional booth, weeping for the love I’d lost…

The man I’d never get to marry…

And the fact that he’d never really loved me at all.

115

Valentino

Iwas standing there, lost in a sea of self-hatred, when suddenly everything got very quiet.

I glanced at Isabella.

She was staring at me in fright.

Behind her, Ludavica’s eyes were wide as saucers.

I looked at the priest.

He had his eyes fixed on me expectantly like I was supposed to say something.

I could feel the tension in the chapel –

Not just from the priest and Isabella but everybody in the audience.

Dario…

Niccolo…

Don Vicari.

Shit.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Could you say that again?”

The priest looked annoyed. “I said, ‘Have you, Valentino Rosolini, come here to enter into marriage with Isabella Vicari, without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?’”

I stared at him –

But all I could think of was Cat.

The entire world was silent.

There was nothing I could say –

Except –

“No.”

The silence was broken by gasps and angry murmurs.

I turned towards everyone out in the pews –

Dario –

Niccolo –

Don Vicari –

Because it was time.

Time to face the music.

Time to finally be a man.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “but I can’t do this.”

116

Caterina

The priest’s words were like an arrow through my heart.

“Have you, Valentino Rosolini, come here to enter into marriage with Isabella Vicari, without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?’”

And then…

Silence.

I stared in shock.

Valentino wasn’t saying anything.

Five seconds went by –

And then suddenly, I heard the voice of the man I loved.

“Sorry… could you say that again?”

The priest sounded pissed. “I said, ‘Have you, Valentino Rosolini, come here to enter into marriage with Isabella Vicari, without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?’”

Then…

More silence.

I held my breath like I was trapped underwater.

Five seconds went by –

Ten –

This isn’t happening – is it?!

And then the most beautiful word I had ever heard in my life:

“No.”

Suddenly, the entire chapel erupted.

Over the noise, Valentino said something that gave me that most beautiful thing of all:

Hope.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.”

117

Valentino

Ilooked out at everyone in the audience.

I saw the shock on the faces of Roberto, Lars, and their fiancées –

The bewilderment on Adriano’s –

The Did he just DO that?! expression on Bianca’s face –

The Holy SHIT, this is gonna be GOOD! look on Lucia’s –

And the tearful smile on Alessandra’s.

Niccolo was furious – nearly frothing at the mouth.

That didn’t scare me, though.

What scared me was the cold, dispassionate frown Dario gave me –

And the look of psychopathic rage on Don Vicari’s face.

But before anyone could start shouting, I spoke loudly to drown them all out.

“I’m in love with another woman. I have been for half a year now, but I was too stupid to admit it. Her name is Caterina Martinelli.

“She’s the best woman I’ve ever met. She’s kind, and funny, and beautiful, and loyal… and brave. So brave. She risked everything for me.

“But I was a coward.

“My brother Dario gave me a chance to marry her before I came to Sicily – and like a fool, I turned him down.

“She risked her life to follow me here. I’ve been seeing her over the last two weeks.

“But I was still a fool. I let her slip through my fingers.

“I can’t do that again. Even if my family disowns me… even if I make mortal enemies today because of it… I can’t lose her. I can’t. I won’t.

“I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused. Isabella is a wonderful girl, and I’m sure – ”

I turned back to look at Isabella, and my voice faltered.

Her face was whiter than her wedding dress.

Behind her, Ludavica looked like she might faint.

Suddenly, I remembered what she’d told me two nights ago:

All those suitors my father brought around?

I said ‘no’ because they were all like my father: they hated gay people.

I knew that none of them would accept me and Ludavica.

And if they found out after I was married, they would definitely kill her, and probably me. With my father’s blessing.

SHIT.

I hadn’t just ruined Cat’s life and my own –

I might’ve fucked up Isabella’s and Ludavica’s lives, too.

If Isabella was forced to marry somebody else –

And the new guy found out about her and Ludavica and didn’t like it –

GODDAMN IT!

I had to live with the consequences of my actions –

But I couldn’t make them suffer, too.

So I did something I didn’t exactly think through.

All I remembered was Isabella saying, If I’m not a virgin, no Cosa Nostra asshole my father would approve of would ever want to marry me. And if you bailed, he’d definitely force me to marry one of them.

If I just fixed it so nobody would marry her –

Problem solved.

I turned back to Don Vicari and said, “I have a confession to make. In my anger and – and my feeling powerless in all this – I took it out on your daughter. I – two nights ago – I forced myself on her in the garden. Isabella’s not a virgin anymore – because I raped her.”

That’s when all fucking hell broke loose.

Like I said: I didn’t exactly think it through.

118

Caterina

Everything turned around in a second.

My tears of heartbreak turned to joy –

Because Valentino really did love me.

“I’m in love with another woman. I have been for half a year now, but I was too stupid to admit it. Her name is Caterina Martinelli.”

I gasped out loud.

He said it!

He’d said my name aloud to his family and told them that he loved me!

“She’s the best woman I’ve ever met. She’s kind, and funny, and beautiful, and loyal… and brave. So brave. She risked everything for me. But I was a coward.”

I barely heard the rest, I was crying so hard.

He loves me!

And he’s willing to risk EVERYTHING for me!

I was about to burst out of the confession booth –

When I heard something that froze my blood.

“Isabella’s not a virgin anymore – because I raped her.”

I recoiled in horror.

What?!

No –

That’s IMPOSSIBLE.

I knew Valentino.

He wasn’t like that.

He’d been a player, and he was an incurable flirt –

But raping a woman?

No.

He was incapable of it. I believed that to the very core of my soul.

He was lying.

Why, I didn’t know –

But I immediately found out.

119

Valentino

As soon as I said I raped her, Don Vicari sprang to his feet and pulled his gun.

He wasn’t fast enough, though.

Lars was already on his feet, his gun out and pointed at Vicari before the motherfucker could aim at me.

“STOP!” Lars roared.

From there, it was a chain reaction.

Rocco, his brothers-in-law, and the foot soldiers were on their feet, reaching for their guns.

At the same time, Dario, Adriano, Niccolo, and Roberto leapt up and pulled their pistols –

And behind me, Massimo dropped his cane and pulled his.

They all aimed at Vicari –

And Rocco and the foot soldiers aimed at my family –

While the 91-year-old woman stayed seated and looked around in bewilderment.

Dario and Adriano shielded Alessandra and Bianca with their bodies.

Roberto did the same with Mei-ling –

But Rachel pulled a fuckin’ Glock out of nowhere, stood shoulder to shoulder with Lars, and aimed at Don Vicari’s head.

All of Don Vicari’s daughters ducked down and covered their children’s heads as the babies and toddlers started screaming.

And the priest?

He was down on all fours, cowering behind the altar.

The chapel was full of shouts and screams –

Like Hell.

Again, all my fucking fault.

All of it.

Don Vicari pointed his pistol at me and screamed in rage, “I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU – ”

“You do, and I swear to God I’ll send you to hell!” Adriano shouted.

“LET THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN OUT!” Lars roared.

“LET THEM GO!” Dario shouted in agreement.

That made Don Vicari pause.

He kept his gun on me, but he looked down at his crying daughters and his screaming grandchildren.

I doubted he felt any real love for them –

But they were his.

And nobody fucked with his property.

Vicari glared at Dario. “Agreed. Let them go, and we settle this afterwards.”

“Agreed,” Dario said.

“GO,” Vicari snapped.

His daughters grabbed their children and ran out of the chapel as fast as they could.

But none of the women on my brother’s side moved.

“You’re not going to send your women out?” Vicari asked Dario.

“Go,” Dario whispered to Alessandra.

“No,” she said.

He looked angry. “Alessandra – ”

“My place is here with you.”

“You are carrying our child – ”

“I said, NO.”

“If she’s staying, I’m staying,” Bianca said.

Mei-ling’s only response was to hold on tighter to Roberto.

“Rachel?” Lars asked.

“Hell no,” she replied coldly as she stared over the barrel of her gun.

Behind me, Massimo yelled, “Lucia – get out!”

“FUCK no!” she shouted back.

“So be it,” Vicari snarled. “Your brother has dishonored my daughter – and thus me and my family. Not only has he broken his oath to marry her, but he raped her. You heard him; he confessed to it. He has insulted me personally, and my retribution for his actions will be – ”

“No,” said a quiet voice behind me.

It was Isabella.

I looked over at her in surprise.

She was shaking – her entire body was trembling –

But she stepped forward and said in an even louder voice, “NO.”

Don Vicari stared at her in shock and anger. “What did you just say to me?”

“Valentino’s lying,” she said.

Oh shit –

Is she gonna do what I THINK she’s gonna do?!

“Isabella – ” I whispered harshly –

“Why would he lie?” Don Vicari snarled.

“Because he’s protecting me,” Isabella said. “I’m gay, Papa. I’m in love with another woman – and he knows you’d kill me if you found out.”

There was deathly silence in the room –

And then Don Vicari pointed his gun at his daughter.

“WHO?!” he shouted.

Isabella stared him down. “No one you – ”

“Me,” Ludavica said as she stepped forward and grabbed Isabella’s hand.

Isabella looked at her –

And burst into tears.

“No – ” she pleaded –

“Yes,” Ludavica said, smiling at her through her tears. “Yes.”

Don Vicari was shaking with rage.

“How long?” he demanded.

Isabella squeezed Ludavica’s hand, then looked at her father. “Since I was 18.”

He stared at her.

“Six years?” he whispered. Then his voice rose to a shout. “Six YEARS you’ve defiled my house?! Six YEARS you committed this infamia under my roof?! I – ”

“STOP!” another voice screamed.

Everyone in the chapel looked over –

To Isabella’s great-grandmother, who was struggling to her feet.

“STOP!” she repeated. “Put your guns away. I have something to say.”

Don Vicari stared at her. So did Rocco and the foot soldiers.

“I SAID, PUT YOUR GUNS AWAY!” she roared.

“But – Nonna,” he said, gesturing with his head towards Dario, “he’ll kill us.”

She looked over at Dario. “Don Rosolini! Do you give me your word that neither you nor any of your men – or women – will harm my son or any of his men until after I have had my say?”

“I swear on the soul of my unborn child,” Dario answered.

The old lady looked at Vicari with steely eyes. “Put your guns away. Now.”

Don Vicari looked around helplessly…

And then he slowly holstered his gun.

“Do it,” he ordered Rocco and his men.

They all looked at each other in bewilderment –

“DO IT,” Vicari shouted.

They all holstered their guns.

Dario put his away. “Everyone with me, do the same.”

Massimo, Niccolo, and Roberto hesitantly put away their pistols.

Adriano and Lars held out the longest, but when Dario glared at them, they complied.

The last holdout was Rachel.

“Babe,” Lars whispered.

“You gotta be kidding me,” she whispered back.

“Babe,” Lars said more insistently.

Rachel grumbled… then put away the Glock.

“Good,” the old lady said. “Good.”

120

Iwatched in amazement as the old woman hobbled up the steps to the platform.

Rocco tried to help her, but she angrily swatted his hand away.

She walked over to Isabella –

Who was shaking all over.

I swear, she seemed more frightened than when her father was pointing a gun at her.

Probably because, of all the people in the world she didn’t want to disappoint…

It was her great-grandmother.

But the old lady smiled at her kindly, nodded, and then turned around to face her grandson.

“As you know, I had an arranged marriage, too,” she said to Don Vicari. “I was only 18 on my wedding day.

“I was a good wife to your grandfather. I gave him six children, and I was faithful to him all my life. But I never loved him.

“I came to love him, in a way, I suppose… but I loved someone else.

“A girl from my village. Her name was Constantina.”

There was a quiet gasp from Rocco and the foot soldiers.

Don Vicari just stared up at her, bewildered.

“Back in those days, our feelings for each other were considered an infamia. My father would have killed us both if he knew.” The old lady glared at her grandson. “It seems not much has changed.

“The night before my wedding – in this very chapel – Constantina begged me not to go through with it. She wanted me to run away with her. I refused because I was frightened of what would happen to us… and I married your grandfather the next day.

“Two weeks later, Constantina hung herself.”

Tears welled up in the old lady’s eyes and trickled down her wrinkled cheeks.

Isabella sobbed, and she and Ludavica clutched each other even more tightly.

The old lady’s pained expression turned to rage. “So I will be damned if I let you, or any other man, take away my great-granddaughter’s happiness. I have suffered enough for this family – and I will not let her, or the woman she loves, suffer the same fate as the girl who loved me, and who I was too cowardly to save.”

At this, the old woman reached into her black sleeve –

And pulled out a stiletto blade, thin and wickedly sharp.

I froze in shock, unsure of what she was going to do –

When she raked the tip across the palm of her hand, opening up a deep cut.

As blood poured down her fingers onto the floor of the chapel, she reached out and took Isabella’s hand.

“Sangre di mi sangre,” she said loudly.

Then she put her bloody hand on Ludavica’s.

“Sangre di mi sangre.”

Then she turned and hobbled over to me.

For a second, I was afraid she was going to plunge the blade into my heart –

But instead, she reached out for my hand and clasped it in hers, covering my fingers with her blood.

“Sangre di mi sangre.”

She turned back to Don Vicari. “These three are now protected. They are sangre di mi sangre.

“If any man here causes harm to them, it is an infamia – and when I die and stand before the Heavenly Father, I will petition Him, the Son, the Virgin, and the Saints to let that man burn for all eternity – even if I have to burn alongside him.

“I am an old woman, and I know I will die first – but, God willing, I will lie in wait on the other side, and at the moment of that man’s death, I will drag him to Hell myself.”

She pointed at the doors.

“Now GO. And do not harm anyone gathered here today. I have spoken.”

Don Vicari’s men all looked at each other in shock –

And then, one by one, they filed out of the chapel.

Rocco looked at his father helplessly…

And then he bowed his head and walked out.

Only Don Vicari remained.

He glared at his grandmother –

Then turned to Isabella.

“You may be protected by her blood… but from this day forth, you are no daughter of mine.”

Isabella trembled and cried, but she remained silent.

Don Vicari turned to Dario. “Our agreement is ended. I may not be able to exact my vengeance on your brother, but know this: you and I are enemies from this day forth. I will oppose you at the Council – and I hope your uncle kills you and every one of your brothers. Slowly.”

“Noted,” Dario said in an ice-cold voice.

Finally, Don Vicari turned back to me.

All the hatred in Hell blazed in his eyes –

But he didn’t say anything.

I stared right back at him…

Slowly raised my hand, calling his attention to his grandmother’s blood…

And then twiddled my fingers at him.

Bye-bye.

I really wanted to give him the finger…

But I’d learned a tiny bit of restraint over the last two weeks.

Vicari’s face became even more hateful.

He spat on the floor in front of me –

But he stomped out of the chapel without another word.

The old lady watched him go, then turned to Isabella.

She reached up with her unbloodied hand and hugged her.

“I love you, my child,” she whispered. “Go and be happy.”

Isabella bawled as she hugged the old woman back. “I love you so much.”

The old lady patted her back gently, then turned to Ludavica.

“Take care of her for me,” she said quietly.

Ludavica nodded, tears pouring down her face. “I will. I promise.”

The old lady smiled, then turned to me.

She peered up at me seriously –

And then she smiled and patted my cheek.

“You a good man,” she said softly.

Then she hobbled down the steps.

I tried to help her –

But she waved me off.

On her way down the aisle, she paused and bowed her head to Dario…

And he bowed his head deeply to her.

Then she left the chapel on her own, shutting the doors behind her.

121

It was over.

Well…

The threat from Don Vicari was over.

The danger from my own family was just beginning.

Before Niccolo or Dario could say anything, I turned to Isabella.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to – ”

“It’s okay,” she said, smiling through her tears. “I understand. Believe me – I understand.”

She looked at Ludavica –

And the two of them embraced.

I smiled sadly…

Then started down the steps as I wiped the old lady’s blood off on my black tuxedo.

“What the HELL were you THINKING?!” Niccolo raged.

I ignored him.

Instead, I went and stood in front of Dario.

He gave me a cold frown as I spoke.

“Don Rosolini, I am truly sorry for the danger I’ve brought down on you and everyone here today. I understand if you want to disown me and banish me from the family for what I’ve done… but I have to go.”

Then I turned and rapidly began walking down the aisle.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?!” Niccolo yelled.

“To find the woman I love and beg her to forgive me!” I shouted back.

I was almost to the doors of the chapel when I heard a creak behind me.

Then the voice that I loved –

The most beautiful voice in the world –

Called my name softly.

“Valentino.”

122

Caterina

Iwas stunned beyond words.

The drama that had just unfolded –

Everybody nearly dying –

And then the old lady saving her granddaughter like that?

I was bawling.

I had to cry into my sleeve so they wouldn’t hear me.

But then…

When Valentino said, “To find the woman I love and beg her to forgive me,” I lost it.

I heard his footsteps rushing down the aisle –

And that’s when I finally came out of hiding.

“Valentino,” I said, smiling through my tears.

When he turned to me, it was the most shocked I’d ever seen him.

He stared at me in amazement for almost three seconds.

I expected him to rush forward, take me in his arms, and kiss me.

I didn’t expect more than that.

I would have forgiven everything just because of what he’d already said to his family.

He did rush towards me –

But instead of taking me in his arms, he dropped on both knees in front of me and took my right hand in both of his.

“Caterina,” he said, gazing up at me with pain in his face, “I was a fucking idiot.

“I am so sorry for everything I’ve done.

“I’m sorry for every time I made you feel second-best.

“I’m sorry that I treated you like a secret when you were the best thing that ever happened to me.

“I should have been there for you like you were for me. But I wasn’t.

“I loved you from the moment I saw you. I know that now. I was just too stupid and immature to admit it.

“I want my entire family to know that you’re the woman I love – that I’ve always loved – and that I know I don’t deserve you.

“I am so sorry for every time I’ve hurt you.

“And I am begging you… begging you… to give me another chance.

“Please let me be the man I know I can be. The kind of man you deserve.

“I will be faithful to you for the rest of my life.

“I promise to always be there for you – the way you’ve always been there for me.

“I swear to always put you first, before anything or anyone else.

“I will treasure you, and cherish you, and prove my love to you every day for the rest of my life… if you’ll let me.

“I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking you to forgive me – and to give me one more chance to make it up to you.

“And I know I really don’t deserve it… but please, Caterina Martinelli… will you marry me?”

By the time he got to I’m sorry for every time I made you feel second-best, I was crying.

When he said, Let me be the man I know I can be… the kind of man you deserve, I was sobbing.

And by the time he asked me to marry him, I was bawling my eyes out.

As he looked up at me, both pain and hope in his eyes, I nodded and smiled through my tears.

“…yes,” I whispered.

That’s when he jumped up, took me in his arms, and kissed me like he never wanted to let me go.

123

Valentino

When she said Yes, it was the happiest moment of my entire life.

I grabbed her – kissed her like there was no tomorrow –

And then pulled back.

“I love you,” I said, like my life depended on her knowing I meant it to the core of my soul.

She smiled and laughed through her tears. “I love you, too.”

Suddenly, there was an eruption of applause behind us.

We both looked over to see a lot of people smiling and clapping.

Alessandra, first and foremost. She had tears streaming down her cheeks, so was so happy.

All the women – Bianca, Lucia, Rachel, Mei-ling, Isabella, and Ludavica – were clapping and grinning.

And Massimo, Roberto, and Lars were smiling, too.

Adriano gave me a look like, Damn, son, you got some balls.

Niccolo was furious, as I expected –

But it was Dario who unnerved me the most.

He just stared at me with a slight frown.

“Come on,” I whispered to Caterina as I held her hand and took her with me back to my family.

I could tell she was afraid, but she came nonetheless.

I stopped in front of Dario.

“Don Rosolini, I beg your forgiveness,” I said nervously. “I know I went against your orders, and I’m prepared to bear whatever the punishment may be. But I ask for your blessing to marry the woman I love – Caterina.”

Dario looked at me –

Looked over at Caterina –

And then Alessandra tugged on his sleeve with a face like Come ON!

The corner of Dario’s mouth turned up with the tiniest hint of a smile, and his eyes softened.

“You have my blessing,” he said.

Without thinking, I launched myself at him and hugged him.

He laughed and hugged me back.

Alessandra wrapped her arms around both of us.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I heard Niccolo seethe, but I ignored him.

Instead, I pulled back and said to Dario, “And with your permission, I’d like to marry her right now.”

“…now?!” Caterina gasped behind me.

I turned and grinned. “Why not? We have a church and a priest. I don’t want to waste one more second.”

Caterina looked at me wide-eyed. “I – um – okay!”

I looked at Dario. “Do you I have your permission?”

He gave me the same half-smile. “Yes. But I think you need someone else’s permission, as well.”

He gestured with his head towards the altar…

Where Isabella stood with Ludavica.

He was absolutely right.

I ran up the steps towing Caterina behind me.

“Isabella,” I said, “I know this was supposed to be your wedding day, but can we – ”

“Yes,” she said with a huge smile. “Yes, of course!”

Caterina cried out with happiness. “Thank you!”

Isabella laughed and hugged her, and so did Ludavica.

Suddenly, another voice spoke up. “This is highly irregular.”

We all turned to see the priest, who had come out of hiding. He looked pissed.

“I suppose it is,” Dario said as he walked slowly towards the altar. “What would it take to make it happen?”

“I was hired by Don Vicari,” the priest said haughtily. “If I were to do this for you, I would risk his displeasure.”

Dario nodded as he reached into his pocket.

“And as you know,” the priest continued, “he is a proud and dangerous man – ”

Dario pulled out a huge wad of bills and started counting them off.

The priest trailed off as he stared at the money.

Dario held out half his bankroll – around 10,000 euros – and raised his eyebrows. “Will that do?”

“…that will suffice,” the priest muttered as he grabbed the bills and stuffed them into his robes.

Dario pocketed what remained of his money.

“Alright, everyone,” the priest announced, “please take your seats.”

“Um… Valentino?” Massimo spoke up hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“Could I, uh… would it be possible to…”

“Spit it out,” I said jokingly.

Massimo looked bashful. “Could we make it a double wedding?”

Out in the audience, Lucia squealed. “What?!”

“I mean – would you like that?” Massimo asked her.

“YES!” she shouted back happily.

“Would you be okay with it?” Massimo asked me apologetically, then looked deferentially towards Cat. “And if it’s okay with the bride.”

I looked at Cat. “Fine by me, if it’s cool with you.”

Cat laughed. “It would be wonderful!”

Lucia jumped out of the pews, ran up the steps, and got up on her tiptoes. Massimo leaned over and kissed her.

“We’re gonna have to have another wedding in Venice, though, ‘cause my Nonna will kill me if she doesn’t get to watch me walk up the aisle,” Lucia warned.

“Maybe we should wait, then,” Massimo suggested.

“Eh, she’ll get over it,” Lucia said and grabbed his arm. “Let’s do it!”

The priest, however, was not pleased.

“This is HIGHLY irregular,” he sniffed.

Dario narrowed his eyes, then pulled out the rest of the bills and held them up.

The priest grumbled…

Then took the bills and shoved them in his cassock.

“Is there anyone else who wants to join the wedding party?” he asked sarcastically.

“Actually…” Lars said.

We all looked at him in surprise.

Rachel stared at him, too. “Are you serious?!”

“We’ve waited five years,” he said. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

She stared at him some more –

And then a grin slowly crept over her face.

“Okay,” she agreed, then looked at me and Cat. “If it’s alright with you two.”

“The more the merrier!” Cat cried out.

Alessandra was jumping up and down, she was so happy.

“Is there room for one more?” Roberto asked.

Everyone turned to him in shock – including Mei-ling.

“What?!” she whispered.

“Marry me,” he said.

Mei-ling tried to suppress a smile, like there was some secret joke they shared.

“…no,” she whispered.

“Marry me,” Roberto repeated.

“…nooo,” she murmured with a coquettish smile.

“Marry me,” he growled in a commanding voice I’d never heard him use before.

Mei-ling’s smile became an outright grin.

“…alright,” she agreed.

“I don’t believe this,” Niccolo said in astonishment.

“Are these women even Catholic?” the priest asked angrily as he looked at Dario.

Dario sighed in irritation. “Adriano.”

Adriano came forward and held out another wad of bills, which quickly disappeared into the priest’s robes.

“Fine,” the priest grumbled.

Lars and Rachel came up the steps, hand in hand, followed by Roberto and Mei-ling.

“Alright, if that’s all – ” the priest started.

“Um… Valentino?” Isabella asked hesitantly.

I looked over at her –

And saw her holding hands with Ludavica.

They both looked at me hopefully.

I looked at Cat. “Babe?”

Cat gave them the most beautiful smile and said, “This was your day originally… so of course.”

Isabella and Ludavica both cried out in happiness and hugged Cat.

I gotta admit, I was on Cloud Nine –

And then the priest went and ruined it.

“Absolutely not,” he snarled.

We all looked at him.

He gestured at Isabella and Ludavica in outrage. “They’re – you know what they are. As a representative of the Catholic Church, I absolutely cannot marry them.”

Everybody stared at him in shock –

Except Lucia.

“Let me get this straight,” she said angrily. “You came here to do a mafia wedding with a whole bunch of killers – ”

“Lucia,” Massimo whispered.

“What?! I killed a guy with a shotgun blast to the face!” she yelled at the priest. “Did you ask about that? No.

“And you KNEW all those assholes who walked out of here earlier were thieves and murderers. Did you care about that? NO.

“But just because these two girls are gay, you’re gonna refuse to marry THEM – but you’re more than happy to take a bunch of Cosa Nostra blood money to marry everybody else?!”

Man, I fucking loved this chick.

She was going to be my favorite new sister-in-law, I could just tell it.

After Alessandra, of course. Seeing as she got me and Cat back together.

The priest sputtered. “This is – I – homosexuality is an abomination in the eyes of the Church, and I will not – ”

He was interrupted by someone racking a Glock.

Schick!

The slide jacked back, followed by the clink! of the ejected bullet hitting the floor.

Dario stood there with his gun out.

It was pointed at the floor, yeah… but it was out.

All he’d done was eject one live round and put another in the chamber –

But the sound it made was the point.

“If you take my money,” Dario said coldly, “then you do what I ask. And I’m ‘asking’ you to marry everyone here. Everyone.”

On cue, Lars, Rachel, and three of my brothers – Adriano, Roberto, and Massimo – pulled out their guns and racked the slides, too.

Schick schick schick schick schick –

Followed by a cascade of bullets hitting the floor.

Clink clink clink clink clink!

Niccolo looked around –

Grumbled, “Ah, what the fuck” –

And pulled out his gun and racked the slide, too.

The priest stared in shock –

Then forced a smile.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today – ”

124

It was an awesome wedding.

It was an even better wedding reception.

We got married in Resuttano, but afterwards we went to the other side of Sicily, as far away from Don Vicari as we could get.

The old lady came through for us a second time, because three empty cars were waiting for us outside the chapel.

There was a piece of paper on the dash of one car, along with a handwritten note and a telephone number:

Call after you leave Sicily.

Lars and Rachel checked the cars out thoroughly for bombs, but after they were satisfied, we drove three hours and found a little village in the middle of nowhere.

We sat outdoors around a stone table, feasted on food from the only restaurant in town, and drank glass after glass of champagne.

Cat sat on my lap, her arm draped lovingly around my shoulders.

Everybody was happy –

Except for Niccolo.

He just sat back in his chair, frowning the entire time, a dark cloud over his head.

After we finished lunch, Dario said diplomatically to Isabella, “I’m assuming your days in Sicily have probably come to an end.”

“Yes, but that’s alright. Lu and I have lived our entire lives on one tiny patch of land. It’s time to see other places.”

“Well, you’re welcome to stay with us until you figure out where you’re going,” Alessandra offered.

Dario looked at his wife in surprise.

“Well?” Alessandra asked. “Isn’t she?”

“…yes,” Dario said, recovering with a polite smile. “We would be delighted to have you.”

“That’s very kind. Thank you.”

“Oh, so now we’re taking in strays,” Niccolo grumbled. “And in the middle of a war.”

“Niccolo,” Alessandra snapped.

Nic just drained his glass of champagne and didn’t say anything else.

“Do you have funds to travel?” Roberto asked Isabella.

“No, but I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

“Let’s talk when we get back to Tuscany,” Roberto said. “We can provide you with something to get you started.”

“So now we’re giving money away after nearly going broke?” Niccolo spat.

“We’re flush with cash at the moment,” Roberto reprimanded him. “We can afford a wedding gift.”

“A wedding gift,” Niccolo said sarcastically. “Wonderful. As if nearly getting killed wasn’t enough.”

“Niccolo!” Alessandra snapped.

Dario looked annoyed with Nic, too, but everybody else was downright uncomfortable.

Cat squeezed my hand nervously.

Lars and Rachel kept their eyes on their plates.

Mei-ling held Roberto’s hand in a show of support –

And Massimo shot Nic a look like, Can you please shut up?

Lucia, on the other hand, was highly entertained. She kept glancing back and forth like she was watching volleys at Wimbledon.

Isabella looked embarrassed. “I’m very touched by your offer, but we don’t want to be a burden – ”

“Nic’s not pissed at you, Isabella,” I said loudly. “He’s angry at me. So Nic, why don’t you and I take a little walk and hash this out, huh?”

“Gladly,” Niccolo snarled.

Cat looked at me in a panic as I lifted her off my lap and stood up.

I gave her a wink. Don’t worry. I got this.

Once again, I was going to have to face the music for what I’d done.

But after what had gone down in the chapel, this would be a piece of cake.

I walked over to a nearby alley with stone walls covered with vines. Niccolo followed right behind me.

“If you’ve got something to say to me, say it,” I said in a low voice.

“You disobeyed my orders over and over,” he hissed. “You deliberately sabotaged everything – and you could have gotten us all killed.”

“Yeah, well, it worked out – ”

“By the grace of God and an old Sicilian woman,” Niccolo snapped. “Dario should throw you out of the fucking family.”

I stood there in shock like he’d sucker-punched me.

Back in the chapel, I’d told Dario I would bear any punishment he doled out – including being disowned and banned.

But deep down, I didn’t really think he’d do it.

However, I knew Niccolo would.

“Is that what you’re going to recommend?” I finally asked. “As his consigliere?”

“Because of what you did, we can never trust you again,” Niccolo fumed. “When the chips are down, we have no idea if you won’t go rogue again and fuck us all.”

“That’s not what I asked,” I said coldly. “Are you going to recommend Dario disown me?”

“I’m going to strenuously suggest he consider the option,” Niccolo snapped.

If Nic was really going to push for me to be banned from the family, then fuck it –

I wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Fuck you,” I hissed. “YOU fucked up.”

Nic gave an ugly laugh. “By trusting YOU? Absolutely.”

“No – you fucked up because you got everything wrong. Lars is alive. Massimo’s alive. Roberto got the money. Everything’s fine.”

“No one knew it would turn out that way!”

“Yeah, but when it did turn out alright, you were still going to sacrifice me – even when it wasn’t necessary!”

“We made an agreement – ”

“And I was the one who was going to suffer for it.”

“I did what I did to give this family a fighting chance against Fausto!”

“Yeah, as long as you didn’t have to pay the fucking price.”

Niccolo’s face hardened. “Well, now we’re ALL going to have to pay the price. Do you realize what kind of an enemy you made today?”

“He can’t kill me,” I smirked as I held up my hand.

“And what about the rest of us?” Niccolo raged. “We didn’t get a pass from the old woman, did we?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “Vicari wouldn’t do that – not after what his grandmother said – ”

“Maybe not directly, but that doesn’t mean he can’t help OTHER people kill us, you stupid, self-centered little – ”

“Consigliere,” a voice said darkly.

We both turned to see Dario standing there.

He gestured with his head. “Take a walk.”

Niccolo scowled. “I was only – ”

“I said, take a walk.”

Niccolo clenched his jaw…

Glared at me one last time…

And then walked out of the alley.

Dario waited until Nic was gone, then strolled over to me with a half-smile on his face. “You two were really going at it.”

“He was ripping me a new asshole,” I admitted.

“Yes, I heard. And he has a point.”

My stomach dropped.

I knew this moment was coming…

And I had been dreading it.

But now that it was here, I had to face it with courage.

“Don Rosolini,” I said humbly, “I fucked up. I disobeyed your orders, and I beg you to forgive me. All I can say in my defense is I was in love – and I was too stupid to know it when you offered me the chance to marry Caterina. If I had been smart enough then to – ”

“She’s your sola e unica,” Dario said quietly.

Your one and only.

“Yes. Yes, she is – and I was too dumb to know it until it was too late. I’m begging you, please don’t – ”

He held up one hand.

I immediately shut up.

Then he smiled kindly. “You’ve done a lot of growing up since I saw you last.”

“…I guess I have.”

“I knew you were in love with her when I made you that offer. But I could see you didn’t know it yet.”

I nodded. “You’re right.”

Dario clapped me on the shoulder, then put his hand affectionately on my neck. “It’s your wedding day, Valentino. And my gift to you is this: because you were in love with a woman you were willing to risk your life for, I will forgive your disobedience.”

Relief flooded my body. “Don Rosolini – thank you – ”

Suddenly his hand tightened on my neck.

When he spoke, his voice was steely, and he stared into my eyes with a look that chilled me to my soul.

“But do not EVER. Do it. Again. Understood?”

I swallowed hard. “Never again, Don Rosolini. I swear it on my love for Caterina.”

He peered into my eyes for a long moment…

And then he gave me a kind smile.

“Alright. Come on… let’s go celebrate. It’s your wedding day, after all.”

And he put his arm around my shoulder and hugged me as we left the alleyway.

125

Caterina

Iwatched nervously as Niccolo and Valentino walked off. I was incredibly scared for him.

I tried not to be a busybody –

But I kept glancing over at the alleyway.

They kept their voices down, but from their body language, it looked like they were going to come to blows.

“Excuse me,” Don Rosolini announced as he stood up, then strolled towards the alleyway.

Alessandra gave me a reassuring look – It’ll be alright – but my heart was racing.

When Niccolo stormed out of the alleyway, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I hurried over to my new brother-in-law –

The man who had always terrified me.

He stopped short when he saw me coming towards him, and confusion replaced some of the anger on his face.

“Signor Rosolini,” I pleaded, “I know it’s not my place – ”

“You don’t have to call me ‘Signor Rosolini’ anymore,” he said with a darkly humorous smile. “I’m your brother-in-law now.”

I swallowed. “…Niccolo…”

It felt very strange to call him that to his face, but I soldiered on.

“I know you’re very angry at him, but it was my fault,” I said. “I was the one who followed him to Sicily. I was the one who – ”

“You weren’t the only one involved, though, were you,” Niccolo asked sardonically as he glanced over at the table.

I followed his gaze to Alessandra, and my heart skipped a beat.

He’d probably figured it out long ago, but still –

“Sir – uh, Niccolo – I’m asking you to place the blame on me and me alone,” I pleaded. “It was my fault. Please don’t punish anyone else for what I did.”

Niccolo looked down at me in silence…

Then all the anger left his face, and he just looked sad.

“I want to apologize to you,” he said.

I stared at him. “Uh – what?”

“The choices I made, I made for the family,” he said quietly. “At the time, I thought they were the best options we had. The only options. Maybe they were, maybe they weren’t.

“But what I didn’t intend was for you to get caught up in all this. If I could have prevented it, I would have – but I had no idea how deep your feelings for my brother actually were.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this. More than that… I’m sorry I hurt you.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

I just stared at him in open-mouthed wonder.

Niccolo smiled sadly. “I hope that one day in the future, you can forgive me… and that we can put this behind us.”

Tears sprang to my eyes, and I smiled. “Why not put it behind us now?”

Before he could say anything, I hugged him.

He seemed shocked at first –

But then he hugged me back.

When I pulled away to look him in the face again, Niccolo said, “You know, in years past, I always thought my little brother had terrible taste in women.”

I flinched, unsure why he would say something so cruel –

Especially now, after such a beautiful moment between us.

Then he turned it all around.

“But he showed absolutely exquisite taste when he chose his wife,” Niccolo said with a gentle smile.

I smiled, and my eyes filled up with tears.

It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to me.

“Will you have a glass of champagne with me?” I asked as I offered him my arm.

“I think I could use several,” he replied drily.

He took my arm, and we walked back to the party.

126

The rest of the day was wonderful.

The other couples regaled us with stories from the last two weeks.

Lucia showed off a little plastic ring and told us the absolutely adorable story about how Massimo had proposed in a grocery store.

Lars and Rachel talked about how they’d nearly killed each other before making up.

And Roberto…

Well, Roberto had one of the most surprising stories of all.

“You threatened to blow up the head of the Tokyo yakuza?” Adriano asked in astonishment.

“He called me a half-breed,” Roberto said with a mild shrug. “So I told him, ‘You’re dealing with the Sicilian half now.’”

The entire table erupted into laughter.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, bro,” Adriano said approvingly.

“Neither did he,” Roberto replied.

Best of all, Niccolo laughed along with everyone else.

In fact, after our heart-to-heart, he seemed to actually enjoy himself.

Most importantly, it seemed that he and Valentino had agreed to an unspoken truce.

Niccolo didn’t make any more snide remarks…

And Valentino refrained from provoking him.

Everything was happy and joyful.

Later, talk turned to the future.

“Everybody’s married but you, Nic,” Roberto said at one point. “When’s your wedding going to be?”

Niccolo glanced at Dario…

Then gave us all an enigmatic smile. “I’m working on it.”

We laughed, and ate, and drank late into the evening.

At some point, I got a chance to be alone with Alessandra.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I said as I hugged her.

“You’re more than welcome,” she said as she held me close. “But all I did was help. You did the hard part.”

“But I couldn’t have done it without you – not in a million years.”

“Well, you helped me when I needed someone. I’m just so glad that I could help you when you needed it.” She beamed. “And we’re sisters now!”

“I know!”

“I always wanted a sister,” she said, misty-eyed. “Bianca’s wonderful – and the others seem great… but I’m so happy that you’re my sister and my best friend.”

We hugged each other and cried and laughed… and everything was wonderful.

Finally, as Dario, Niccolo, and Lars discussed plans for how to get everyone back home to Tuscany, Valentino tugged at my arm and led me away from the table.

“What?” I asked.

“How about we go start the honeymoon early?” he asked with a devilish smile.

“…what?!”

“I was thinking maybe we could go find a pantry somewhere. Have our first time as a married couple be like our very first time.”

I looked at him in shock –

And then a grin crept over my face.

“You’re on,” I whispered.

He laughed, took me in his arms, and kissed me –

And that was when I realized:

Maybe fairytale endings DO happen to girls like me.

Pre-order MAFIA KINGS: NICCOLO now for the special price of $2.99!

In NICCOLO, the Rosolini brothers will argue before the Cosa Nostra families at the Council of Rome as they seek vengeance against their uncle!

But Fausto has a brilliant female consigliere who might just be Niccolo’s undoing…

NICCOLO will wrap up the Fausto storyline!

(Don’t mind the release date on the Amazon book page – I’ll publish the book as soon as I finish writing it, probably in late spring or early summer 2025.)

EPILOGUE FOR VALENTINO

If you’re already on my email list, you can download the Epilogue for Valentino 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 Roberto here…

The Epilogue for Lars here…

The Epilogue for Massimo here…

And 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.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I’d like to give a special shout-out to Sarah and JoAnne, who helped me edit this book on a tight deadline.

They’ve given me input on previous Mafia Kings books, and I greatly appreciate it – but they did this one in record time. Thank you, Sarah and JoAnne!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Check out my website to get on my mailing list and receive the Epilogue to MAFIA KINGS: VALENTINO!

www.oliviathorn.com

You can find me on Facebook at…

https://www.facebook.com/oliviathornbooks

And feel free to drop me a line at

olivia@oliviathorn.com

ALSO BY OLIVIA THORN

Mafia Kings: Dario

Mafia Kings: Adriano

Mafia Kings: Massimo

Mafia Kings: Lars

Mafia Kings: Roberto

Mafia Kings: Valentino

Mafia Kings: Niccolo (Pre-order now)

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AS OLIVIA THORNE

Billionaire Romance

ALL THAT HE WANTS

The Complete Series

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THE BILLIONAIRE’S KISS

The Complete Series

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BILLIONARE BAD BOYS

The Billionaire Bad Boys Collection

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Motorcycle Romance

MIDNIGHT DESIRE

The Complete Series

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Rockstar Romance

(Careful - cheating, love triangle, Happily For Now ending)

ROCK ME HARD

The Complete Series