Mafia Mistress by Mila Finelli

Chapter Twelve

Francesca

Giulioand I watched the sun set as the yacht cruised back toward Siderno. We were both quiet, lost in our thoughts.

And one thing you should know, Francesca, is that I always get what I want.

Was Fausto telling me he wanted me? That had certainly been implied as he cornered me against the wall and caged me in with his body. I hadn’t felt fear in that moment. Well, perhaps a little, but not because I thought he’d hurt me. I was afraid of my reaction to him, of how excitement pulsed between my legs with just one look from him. My nipples beaded every time he was within fifty feet, like they were issuing some kind of a warning.

Except I didn’t want to run away from him. Far from it.

I thought of his hand on my throat, the warmth and strength of his body as he surrounded me, and I wanted more. I wanted to drown in his darkness...and that terrified me.

I was a strong woman. Independent. I had plans for my future, like going to college and finding a normal, safe man to marry. One who didn’t run drugs and extort money from others. One who wouldn’t get gunned down in the street by his enemies. For God’s sake, Fausto’s first wife—Giulio’s mother—had been shot dead on a beach.

I didn’t want that life.

I didn’t want to be associated with these people. I was a good person, someone who believed in right and wrong. My father was a criminal, yes, but my sisters and I weren’t. We deserved better.

I’m not entirely good, though, am I?

True. By day, I had taken on a more parental role with my twin sisters, watching over them. At night, though, I snuck out of the house to find fun. To find a boyfriend and lose my virginity.

Apparently I was a rebel at heart—which was why I could not be caged here in Italy, like a meek and docile prisoner. I had to find a way out.

“He’s going to try to seduce you.”

Giulio’s words startled me. “What?”

“My father. He is going to try to seduce you.”

Tingles raced up the backs of my thighs. “How do you know that? Did he say something?”

Giulio lifted a shoulder. “No, but I can tell.”

“That’s crazy. I’m supposed to marry you.”

“Not anymore. That's why he wants to talk to me as soon as we return.”

Oh, God. I was having a hard enough time resisting Fausto as an engaged woman. What happened when the engagement was off? “You have to tell him no.”

Giulio grunted and folded his hands behind his head, closing his eyes. “No one tells my father no.”

“I do—and you need to stand up to him. Tell him you want to marry me.”

He cracked a lid at me. “Why would I do that? I don’t want to marry you.”

“Giulio, please. You have to help me. I cannot get involved with your father. That would be worse than marrying you—no offense.”

“None taken, but you are crazy if you think I can stop him.”

“Can’t you convince him we are madly in love?”

“He’d never believe it—and I don’t like lying to my father.” I pulled my sunglasses down and gave him a pointed look, to which he nodded. “Exactly. One lie is enough, believe me.”

“Then help me escape.”

Giulio sat up and turned to face me, his expression curious. “Why? You could do a lot worse than my father. You like the estate and the castello...and he would treat you with respect.”

Yes, but he would also consume me. I would lose myself in Fausto Ravazzani. “I can’t. Please, Giulio.”

“You will have to deal with him yourself. If you don’t want him, then tell him. He’ll accept it. He’s a reasonable man.”

I thought about the man who had drugged me, had locked me in a dungeon. The capo who had killed two men in cold blood. Reasonable? Ha! Hardly.

I pressed my lips together and stared at the water. Clearly, I couldn’t count on Giulio. He was too interested in saving himself. I had to do this myself.

“Do not try and escape, Frankie,” Giulio said as he reclined once more. “It will only make the situation worse.”

“Yeah? We’ll see.”

“You won’t tell him, will you? About me?”

“God, no.” I reached over and took his hand. “Even if that was my only way to escape, I wouldn’t do that to you. I know what happens if everyone finds out.”

He pressed a soft kiss to the back of my hand. “Grazie, bella. I am very grateful.”

“It’s probably stupid of me. I should blackmail you to help me.”

“You don’t want to do that. First and foremost, I am a Ravazzani. Not many would dare to blackmail a member of my family.”

The threat hung between us until I finally said, “If I did, I suppose I’d be taken to the dungeon and shot dead, too.”

His head whipped toward mine. “What?”

“I’d be murdered in the family dungeon...just like those two men the other night.”

Giulio’s body relaxed. “He didn’t kill them. He shot each of them in the leg. They’ll limp, but they’ll live.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. Though my relief made no sense. No one rose to Fausto’s rank without killing a fair share of people. Just because he hadn’t killed those two men didn’t mean he wouldn’t ever kill someone else.

“How did you know, by the way? Not even I knew they were bringing Sergio and Rocco to see my father.”

“I saw them go into the dungeon and I followed.”

Giulio’s brows flew up. “You spied on Fausto? Ma sei pazza?”

“No, I’m not crazy. But I couldn’t help myself.”

“Bella, if you are going to stay with my father, you have to learn not to get involved in the ’ndrina business.”

“Hello? Are you even listening? I don’t want to stay with your father.”

“It won’t be so bad. You can share him with Katarzyna. She can have Mondays, Wednesday, and Fridays, and you can have—”

I shoved his shoulder. Hard. “Don’t even fucking suggest it. He’s probably so full of himself that he’d like that idea.”

Giulio laughed. “I feel as if you are going to be the one to break him, Frankie.”

I could only hope.

Because the alternative was him breaking me...and I could not let that happen.

* * *

Fausto

Nursing a glass of ciró,I kept a close eye on the clock as I waited. Work had distracted me for the rest of the evening, but it was late and a feeling of dread settled in my stomach. Giulio and Francesca should have returned by now.

Was I wrong? Did he feel a romantic attachment to her? I had to tread carefully. My instinct told me Giulio didn’t think of Francesca in that manner, but there was a slim chance I had misjudged the situation.

I snorted as I stared out at the dark vineyards. I haven’t misjudged a situation since I was fourteen, which is how I’ve stayed alive so long. No, everything told me the two of them were not attracted to each other and that she was attracted to me.

I’d soon find out.

Just as I was about to go shower, I heard Giulio’s Ferrari pull into the drive. Anticipation churned in my gut. I couldn’t see them from my windows, but I could hear the sound of their laughter on their way inside, then the front door slammed.

Giulio came to me immediately. He was a good son and I was damn proud of him. He followed directions and stuck to his word. He’s never let me down, except for the other night. I hoped he learned his lesson. The brotherhood had to come first, always.

He dropped into a chair across from my desk, so I took my seat as well. “Have a nice time?”

His lips twitched. “You’re going to ask, so just ask, Papà.”

He was a smart boy, my son. “Before I do, I want to make sure you aren’t attached to her. That you won’t harbor resentment.”

“No resentment. No attachment. I was marrying her because you ordered it.”

“You don’t want her.” It seemed unfathomable to me, but I had to press. I had to be sure.

He shrugged, as if it made no difference to him. “I would have married her, but I don’t have those kinds of feelings toward her.”

It was as I had suspected. “Good. I’ll find you another wife. An Italian woman who won’t give you any trouble. One who knows this life.”

“Whatever you say, Papà. Are we done? I have to run out for a little bit.”

This had seemed too easy. “You won’t mind if I take her as my mantenuta?”

One side of his mouth kicked up. “No, I won’t mind—but I don’t think she will agree.”

“We’ll see.”

“She’s very stubborn and still eager to escape. I don’t think she’ll come willingly.”

“I am aware of all this—and again, we shall see.”

My son stood and thrust his hands into his pockets. He seemed to be contemplating his next words. “Allora…just don’t hurt her, Papà. She’s a good person, with a good heart. She’s in a country where she hardly speaks the language and is basically a prisoner here. Have patience with her.”

Part of me wanted to lash out at him—I’d never hurt a woman in my life—but I understood. My son had a good heart, as well. When he was six, he rescued a baby bird and kept it alive until the creature had been healed enough to fly away. In boarding school, he fought to defend kids who couldn’t defend themselves. It made sense he’d look out for Francesca, too.

“I won’t hurt her. She is safe with me, sul mio onore.” I rarely swore on my honor, so he knew how serious I was about this.

He nodded and turned to walk to the door. “Oh, I heard she spied on you the other night in the dungeon. That must have been a shock.”

“She told you?”

“Yes. She thought you killed Sergio and Rocco.”

“I know.”

His brows climbed up his forehead. “You didn’t tell her the truth?”

“Why would I, when the lie serves my purposes?”

“You want her frightened.” Instead of answering, I sipped my wine to hide my smile. Giulio dragged a hand across his jaw. “I don’t know whether to applaud you or pity you.”

“Neither. I’ll handle Francesca.”

Giulio held up his palms. “I’ll stay out of it. Now, if you don’t need anything, I’ll head over to the club.”

“Go. Be safe, figlio mio.”

“I’ll see you in the morning.” He disappeared out the door.

Now that I was alone, anticipation flooded my veins like the rush of a drug. As much as I wanted to wait, I couldn’t.

I needed to see her. Now.

Downing my wine, I carefully placed the glass on the desk and left my office. The house was quiet as I made my way into the wing opposite my own. What would I find when I entered Francesca’s room? Was she showering? Relaxing in the bath? My cock twitched at the fantasy of seeing her wet and soapy golden skin, touching those soft and supple curves.

I didn’t bother knocking. She would tell me to go away, and I would not be deterred from seeing her. Throwing open the door, I stopped short.

Francesca sat on the bed with her arms crossed, glaring at me.

Oh, yes. I liked her spirit very much. She would not be easy to win, but the victory would be sweet in the end. “Waiting on me already?”

“What are you doing in here, Ravazzani? This is my room and you cannot just walk in whenever you feel like it.”

I closed the door behind me. “Oh, but I can, actually. This is my house. I don’t need your permission to come in here.”

She stood up, her body covered by the wrap she’d worn on the boat. Madonna, that meant the bikini was still on underneath. I approached her, but she didn’t back away this time. Instead, she bit her lip. “Say whatever it is you came in to say and then leave.”

“Always playing tough, but I am not fooled.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you don’t really want to escape. Your effort to leave was half-assed at best. Instead you spend your time with the lambs and Vincenzo, not searching the grounds for a wall to climb over. You could have stolen one of the cars. Or jumped off the boat today and swam to shore. You are resourceful and smart, Francesca. If you want something bad enough, you make it happen.”

I moved closer, almost touching her. I could count every eyelash and freckle on her lovely face as she stared up at me. Reaching out, I twirled a piece of her golden hair around my finger. “So I have to ask, why are you still here?”

Her gaze locked on my face. “I was biding my time before I tried again.”

“Cazzata. Your life in Toronto was boring. You were dying there, like a plant starved of water. I saved you from that loser boyfriend, from the lackluster orgasms and sneaking around. There is so much I can show you, dolcezza. So much I want to give you.”

“So you’re my savior? Is that it?”

I chuckled softly. “I’m no savior. They call me il Diavolo for a reason, and that is because I am as wicked and evil as they come. But if you want to get on your knees for me in gratitude, I will not object.”

Her shoulders trembled as her breath hitched. She hadn’t backed away—had barely moved—since I entered. She seemed to be waiting to see what I would do. “In your fucking dreams,” she finally said, but there was no heat behind it.

Slowly, I dragged my thumb across her lips, loving the feel of the slick plump flesh. She was gorgeous, but the kind of earthy beauty that burrowed under a man’s skin. A woman who should be worshipped every single day with kisses and orgasms. I wanted to both take care of her and wreck her in the same breath. “That mouth will get you in trouble one day. But I’ll let it slide tonight because I’d rather get on my knees for you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I intend to have you and I’m tired of waiting.”

I bent down until my knees met the carpet. Then I slid my palms up over her calves, behind her legs, with my face resting right below her full tits. My dick pulsed as it thickened in my trousers and I had to resist the urge to stroke myself. Fuck, I wanted this woman badly.

As my hands continued up her body, I lifted the flimsy piece of cloth that covered her. Francesca watched me with hooded eyes, her skin flushed. “Take this off,” I told her.

“What about Giulio?”

“You are no longer engaged to my son. Take the fucking cover up off, Francesca.”

She didn’t argue, just whipped the thin garment over her head, leaving her in the black bikini I’d both loved and hated today.

Santo cazzo Madre di Cristo.

I couldn’t breathe, and my cock was now rock hard. She was even more gorgeous up close, her skin smelling of sun and salt. Her nipples beaded behind her suit, and her chest rose and fell as she took rapid breaths. But part of winning this battle meant I needed her full surrender.

And I never played fair.

My fingers trailed up her inner thigh and between her legs, and I let my breath warm the skin of her stomach. I brushed my thumb over the slick fabric of her suit until I found her clit. I rubbed back and forth a few times, letting her have a taste of the pleasure I planned to give her.

“This is your last chance.” I stroked her again, harder this time. “Tell me to leave—or I am eating this pussy until you cream all over my face.”

“Oh, God,” she whispered, her body swaying slightly. “We can’t. You can’t. This isn’t….”

She was weakening, I could sense it. I kept stroking her clit through the thin suit, the smell of her arousal filling my nostrils and making me crazy. “I am dying to taste you. Aren’t you dying to know how good it will feel when my tongue flicks your clit?”

Her fingers latched onto my head, clutching me closer instead of pushing me away—and I had my answer. Plucking at the strings of her suit bottom, I quickly untied them and the scrap of fabric dropped to the carpet. A small patch of trimmed hair covered her mound, her pussy lips pink and swollen, and my mouth watered. As I kissed my way down her stomach, I untied the back of the bikini top, as well, glancing up as Francesca pulled it the rest of the way off. Then she was completely naked and I looked my fill at this gorgeous creature.

Full breasts with rose-tipped nipples and dark areolas. A flat stomach and long legs. Her golden skin was unblemished and I longed to see it covered in my bite marks. Soon, I vowed. I wanted to take my time with her, explore every inch of her body, but tonight was about her pussy. “Get on the bed,” I rasped, pushing to my feet.

She turned and crawled on the bed, nearly making me come with the seductive sway of her ass as she positioned herself. When she was on her back, I ordered, “Now spread your legs.”

She complied eagerly, showing me the flesh between her thighs, which was already glistening from arousal. I was ready to make a meal out of this girl.

Wedging myself between her thighs, I lowered myself until my stomach met the mattress. “How do you like it, Francesca?”

She didn’t answer, her brows lowered in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I want to make you come at least twice, so tell me what you like. My tongue inside your pussy? Sucking your clit? Every woman is different.”

Her mouth worked but nothing came out. Had I finally shocked her?

Then I realized what her reaction meant.

“That stronzo never ate your pussy?”

Instead of answering, she tried to roll away. I immediately clamped my arms around her thighs and held her up to my mouth. “Too late, piccola monella. You’re mine now.”