Italian King by Zoe Beth Geller
Dante
Damn, she’s so beautiful, I almost feel guilty about the snatch. But all’s fair in love and war, and this is necessary to stop a war, in my opinion.
We took the blood sample while she slept off the sedative so we can test her DNA. Now, we’re waiting on official results before our call to Conti. But I don’t need to see the results to know she’s his. The fact the adoption was kept a secret and that she has no other siblings makes all the pieces fall into place.
I believe her and yet I wonder how her parents managed to hide her so well. What is their connection in all of this? Or is it just a random occurrence that a child with such dark ties grew up to be so well, good, decent . . . and sassy.
Did her adoptive parents know her heritage when they took her in? Did they know Conti? Or her mother? Or are they in the dark as well?
Juliet doesn’t seem to be anything like her biological father, who wouldn’t hesitate to stick a knife in your kidney if you so much as looked at him wrong.
When I help her stand, I feel another twinge of guilt, realizing how tired and weak she is from today’s ordeal. The plan is already taking a toll on her and this is only the beginning. Negotiations haven’t even started.
I’m a soldier and don’t have time to care about her feelings or physical state, as long as she’s alive and not bleeding out. But that doesn’t stop me from moving her up to my kitchen with Riccardo as her personal guard to make sure she doesn’t escape. My mansion is a compound, and no one, other than my guards, Riccardo, and my housekeeper have a reason to be here.
I will find a way to make this situation work. I always do. I’m the Don not just because I’m the eldest son in the family, but because I have the skill set and the fortitude to make the business my life. My brothers can get married and give Mama grandchildren and live a ‘normal’ life.
I can’t afford to love, or actualize sympathy-those translate into being vulnerable. It’s the one advantage I have over Conti. Finding out about Juliet’s existence is going to drive him insane, giving me an advantage. Then, I wait and watch him unravel as he realizes his options are limited.
Riccardo and I help Juliet up the steps and I give her the ground rules: “You try to run, I’ll shoot you, or Riccardo will, and even if you get past us, don’t fool yourself. This is an old estate that doesn’t have neighbors and the grounds are crawling with guards.”
We sit Juliet down at the kitchen table and my phone dings. It’s Alessia. Dammit. She’s a sweet girl and sexy as hell but I can’t see her again. I like her too much to waste her time. She’s getting older and needs to find a nice husband. Plus, I can tell she’s growing too attached to me.
I send a curt text that I’m too busy to see her and that she needs to hang out with better men, men who will treat her better than me. She’ll get the message.
How much of that was the truth and how much was because I’m fixated on the young vixen sitting in front of me? The one with dark eyes that dart around the room, no doubt counting the guards, identifying the exits and probably trying to figure out if she can reach the kitchen knives hanging on the wall before being shot.
She wants to escape. I’d be surprised if she didn’t try. The fact that she’s intent on survival impresses me.
“Escaping is a futile effort,” I point out, letting her know I’m onto her.
Ignoring me, she looks around the kitchen, seeming to find comfort in no longer being tied to a chair. She rubs her sore wrist and for that I’m sorry. I know how painful it can be.
Riccardo opens the microwave to heat up the baked ziti he picked up earlier. Finding plates and forks, he serves Juliet first before he places ours at the table and we both sit down.
Juliet looks at her plate and pushes it away. “I’m not hungry.”
“Eat,” I command, taking a seat next to her.
“No.” Her eyes challenge me but I stare her down until she lifts her fork and begins to take small bites.
I start to think this through. Normally I conduct my office work downtown where we have the headquarters for the Micheli family business, but I have a study here and encrypted computers and phones, so I don’t have to show up at the office tomorrow.
We normally say we’re in construction as it covers many things including a sister company that does renovations and other holding companies that make up one larger corporation. Our construction business is not just a simple front because we actually do legitimate work in the industry. But it accounts for little profit and most of that is under bidding our competition.
The amount of money we launder through dry cleaners and other small businesses adds up to massive amounts of funds but because they are small businesses we avoid unwanted attention. I have also been able to set up some other legitimate business, like restaurants and night clubs where it is easy to launder money and move product at the same time, mainly drugs.
Maybe I can extort money out of Conti, rub it in a little, let him buy his daughter. But I don’t want to always be looking over my back. How can I be certain that she is of value to him? The man I met seems to be lacking the fatherly instincts to protect a child, unless that child adds to his bottom line.
I’m waiting on the official word on Juliet’s mother. I suspect Juliet was a love child, from which affair I’m still waiting to hear, and the mother was forced to give her up when Conti’s wife got jealous — or maybe Conti’s wife never knew, and he wanted to keep it that way. I’m sure I will find out in due course.
It’s hard to keep a secret buried for twenty years. And the most unstable element in the mix is Conti himself. I’m not so sure if he can love anyone but himself.
I hope he agrees to strike the bargain we need. He would do well to do business with me because if we are quasi-partners it will make it more difficult for someone else to strong arm their way into his business. I don’t want his business; I just want to run mine alongside his. I need to make him see that I’m the lesser of two evils.
I put food on my fork and try to eat but it’s strange having others at the table.
“How long are you keeping me?” her dark, doe-like eyes implore me.
“Don’t know yet.”
“Who is my father?”
“It’s not safe to tell you that right now.” I pick up the glass of red wine Riccardo poured for me as I push back in my seat.
I lift it to my lips and take a much-needed gulp, not a sip. “Do you want some?”
“Sure,” she responds, her answer surprising me. I assumed she’d want to keep her sharp wits about her but maybe she realizes she’s better off playing nice with me. She’s young, I’m sure she has a lot to live for and all that.
Riccardo’s phone rings, he steps outside on the balcony to take it.
“What happens at school when I’m missing?” Juliet looks at me and I set my wine glass down. I need another refill.
“We came up with a reason for you to go home and left a message. Your roommate is busy with her new boyfriend, and thinks you are at your parents visiting a sick grandmother anyway, so she won’t be looking.”
Juliet is pensive and takes another small bite before pushing her plate away.
“Bathroom?”
I nod to one of my guards, Flavio, to take her.
Juliet stands and follows him out of the kitchen. There’s no way she’s getting out of that tiny bathroom window. She’s way too short to reach it and it comes out onto a balcony. Not a slick move on her part, should she try it.
I watch her hips sway under the thin minidress as she walks away. The windows are open, letting in the cool night air, so I send a guard to my room to find a light sweater for her to wear.
Tonight will be interesting. Good thing there will be a guard outside her bedroom. I can’t sit a foot away from her without my cock straining against my linen pants. It’s so hard, one would think it was a flag in a stiff wind. No doubt I’ll have blue balls later.
I throw out the question that’s been turning in my mind to Riccardo. “Do we call Conti? I think we need to send him pictures. You can tell she looks similar to his sons. They all have the same dark hair and complexion. I bet her mother is Sicilian.”
“Maybe. And that makes sense. Lots of times they marry into rival families to keep the peace,” Riccardo downs his wine and refills both our glasses.
“I thought of that too, and it’s not as outdated a practice as you’d think. I have two brothers who are both eligible bachelors.”
“Well, that’s convenient,” he laughs, and he can’t help but smile.
“Yes, it is,” I state, while reaching into my pants to adjust my throbbing cock.
“You’re a sorry sight. She’s hot, I can see the affect she has on you.”
“Shut the fuck up, Riccardo. No woman has anything on me. I use them and leave them. She’d be no different, but she deserves to be kept well and treated well because she’s worth more that way.”
Riccardo takes another gulp of wine, “That we can agree on.”
I nod. I’m glad he sees it my way.
I’m beginning to wonder what’s taking Juliet so long in the bathroom and ask Flavio to check on her.
I hear him tapping on the door and she responds, although I can’t make out the words. He gives me the thumbs up that all is fine.
“Just tell me what you need, Dante.” Riccardo is the only one who calls me by my Christian name most of the time. It depends on his mood and who’s with us.
“What do you need at your end?” I need to know his logistics.
“DNA results tomorrow. And we need to take some pictures of Juliet to send as well.”
“Do you have the birth certificate?”
“Oh course, it’s the first official document I copied.”
I reach for my wine glass and look towards the bathroom hallway waiting for our guest of honor to return. I didn’t peg her as one of those high maintenance women who spend fifteen minutes in the bathroom to piss and wash her face.
“I think we need to arrange for a shopping day for our guest tomorrow,” I announce while pushing my chair back and putting my plate in the sink.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Hear me out. One, she’s going to be a handful cooped up here, and two, we don’t want her to look like a pauper when we send pictures. It might do us all good. I’ll go, in case she has any ideas to ruin our plans. And if she meets anyone she knows, I can run interference.”
“Well, I don’t like it, but you’re calling the shots. I’ll arrange a detail to go with us.”
This is when I suddenly wish I knew where Alessia shopped. Juliet’s personality and figure wouldn’t be able to pull off the same clothing, but I’d better find out what stores to take her to. I’d hate to fail at impressing her on our first outing.
Impressing her? Did I just think of it that way? I don’t have to impress anyone. She’s our captive, I’m just trying to make it less traumatic for her.
But deep inside my heart, I know I’m trying to get a foothold on her without it resulting in the mutually assured destruction of both of us. She has to bend to my will, I’m the Don for fuck’s sake. I make the rules.