Mafia Mistress by Mila Finelli

Chapter Twenty-Six

Francesca

I was pacingin my room, on the verge of hysteria, by the time Giulio returned from the pharmacy.

“Here,” he said, handing me the bag. “I bought five, just like you asked.”

“Thank you. I’m sure it’s nothing. It has to be stress.”

Giulio held up his palms. “I know nothing about a woman’s cycle, but I think you should check. Just for peace of mind, no?”

I swallowed. “I know. Will you stay?”

“Of course. Go. We’ll check together.”

I went into the bathroom and opened the first box. The instructions seemed fairly simple. Hold the stick in the pee, let it sit, and read the results. Maybe I should take two tests, just to be sure.

Hands shaking, I unwrapped another box and peeled open the paper on the stick. Holding both, I sat down and peed, making sure to wet each stick thoroughly. Then I set them on the counter, cleaned up, and called Giulio in.

He entered carefully, like he was afraid of startling me. “Well?”

“Set the timer on your phone for five minutes. Then we’ll have our answer.”

Giulio started the timer and then peered at the sticks. I smacked his shoulder. “Don’t check early. You’re making me nervous.”

His expression serious, he leaned against the wall. “What result are you hoping for?”

“Negative, obviously.”

“Not obviously. Many women would love to get pregnant with my father’s baby, you know.”

“I am not many women, and they can have his babies for all I care. I cannot be pregnant, G. Not now, and not by your father.”

“Why not? He has been a great father to me, and he would see that you are well cared for. You’d want for nothing.”

I pressed my palms into my eye sockets and tried to control my breathing before I hyperventilated. “I don’t want to be tied to him for the rest of my life. Plus, I’m not ready to be a mother. I want to go to college and get a job. Have a normal life.”

He made a dismissive sound. “Normal is boring, Frankie. You were not made for that life, punching a time clock in some menial job for little money. You are better than that.”

“I’m sure my mother thought the same thing, but she gave up her whole life for my father. Her career, her freedom.” Be your own woman, Francesca. Don’t make my mistakes. “I can’t do that. I promised myself I would have a different life.” Tears welled in my eyes, the terror overwhelming me.

“Frankie,” Giulio said softly, pulling me into his arms. “Don’t cry. We don’t even know if it’s positive yet.”

Deep in my bones, I knew. I was pregnant. I’d never gone this long without a period, and the shot was no longer effective. Fausto had knocked me up.

What was I going to do if it were true?

I stayed there, praying, nestled in Giulio’s embrace, until the timer went off.

He turned off his phone and held my shoulders. “We look together. All right?”

I nodded, my mouth as dry as dirt. “Okay.”

We turned and looked down. Both tests were positive. “Oh, shit,” I whispered and sank to the floor. I buried my face in my hands. “Oh, shit.”

I couldn’t help it—I started crying. Giulio sat next to me and wrapped an arm around me. He didn’t say anything, his strong hand just stroking my back.

I was having Fausto’s baby.

Why? Why did the universe hate me so much? What had I ever done wrong in life to deserve this? Kidnapped and brought here, engaged then not. Seduced by stupid vineyards and stupid Fausto. And now the worst has happened.

A baby.

“If I run away, maybe he’ll never know,” I choked out through my tears.

“You have to tell him.”

I shook my head no against his shoulder. I didn’t need to tell him. I could run away, have the baby, and give it up for adoption. He would never know.

Giulio tilted my chin so he could see my face. “Frankie, if you don’t tell him, I will. He’s my father.”

“But you’re my friend. Bros before hos.”

“I’m not sure any of that applies in this case.” He kissed my forehead. “I think this is a good thing. It is fate. You were destined to come here and give me a baby brother or baby sister.”

“Oh, my God.” I rolled into a tight ball and started rocking. I was having Giulio’s half-brother or half-sister. How fucked up was that?

And like an idiot I had called him for help. Of course he’d want me to stick around and have the baby. Another Ravazzani boy would take the pressure off him to have his own children.

But any boy child raised here, my child, would be in the mafia. And a girl wouldn’t fare any better. She would be married off at an absurdly young age to a man she didn’t know, and he would probably be in the mafia.

No, no, no. This was not happening.

I cried harder. I wanted to die. This was the end of everything as I knew it.

I heard Giulio put his phone down, but I paid no attention. Maybe Fausto didn’t want a baby any more than I did. After all, he was almost middle aged. The diapers and late-night feedings were long in his past. If he learned I was pregnant, he’d probably send me back to Toronto. Then I could decide whether to have this baby or not.

“You can do this, Frankie,” Giulio said. “Any child would be lucky to have you as a mother. And I think this will be good for my father. I can tell he cares about you very much.”

That made me feel worse. Fausto didn’t love me. I was a puttanella, a convenient hole. Eventually he’d tire of me—just like he tired of Katarzyna—and send me and the child away. I’d always be the woman who was stupid enough to let the head of the Calabrian mafia knock her up. And my son or daughter would pay the price.

How could I bring a child into this fucked up situation?

Tears began falling in earnest again, and I could hardly catch my breath. Giulio’s shirt was a mess, but I didn’t care. He handed me tissues occasionally but I was crying too hard to stop.

“What is going on?” Fausto’s voice echoed in the tiny washroom. “Francesca, why are you crying?”

I couldn’t even look at him. I wanted to both throw myself in his arms and strangle him with my bare hands. This was all his fault. He’d kidnapped me and prevented me from getting another birth control shot. Then he’d filled me with his super sperm and impregnated me.

Giulio and his father began speaking rapid Italian that I didn’t even try to understand. I no longer cared. This whole country sucked. I hated everyone and everything in it.

Giulio started to get up, but I grabbed his arm. “Don’t go. Please.”

He gave me a half smile. “It’s going to be fine, Frankie. I promise. This is fate.”

Traitor.

For all I knew he’d texted his father to come in here.

I let him go like he was burning my hand. “Nothing is fine. Nothing will ever be fine again.”

Standing, he exchanged a look with his father and then walked out. Fausto peeked at the two pregnancy tests. “And this is what has you crying?”

“Yes, Fausto,” I snapped. “That is generally what happens when someone who doesn’t want to get pregnant gets pregnant.”

“You had to know it was a possibility, no?”

Anger flared to life in my chest, the burning hatred replacing the sadness. “Something about being kidnapped, drugged, almost forced to marry your son, brought to a country where I don’t speak the language, and seduced by you made me forget that I was overdue for my shot. How silly of me! Yep, stupid, stupid Francesca.” I dropped my head in my hands. “Fuck you, Fausto.”

He grabbed my wrist, tugged me to my feet and began leading me out of the bathroom. I resisted, pulling away from him. “Don’t touch me. I hate you—and I definitely don’t want to have a baby with you.”

Sighing, Fausto bent and scooped me up in his arms. I squirmed and shoved at his chest. “Put me down. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“That is too bad.”

He sat on the bed and then twisted until we were both flat on the mattress, our heads on the pillows. I was too furious to speak so I folded my arms and stared at the ceiling. Fausto rose up on an elbow. “Tell me what you are thinking.”

“I’m thinking I should have smothered you in your sleep while I had the chance.”

The bastard chuckled.

“I am sorry to tell you, then, that I’ll definitely be sleeping with one eye open from now on.” His hand gently rested on my belly. “Piccolina, this does not displease me. I like the idea of you round and big with my child.”

I glared at him. “What if I don’t want to be round and big with your child?”

He lifted a shoulder in a small shrug. “I won’t allow you to abort it, if that is what you are thinking. But you needn’t be involved after the child is born, if you don’t wish.”

My mouth fell open. While I had been thinking of adoption, something about his phrasing made me think this was not what he was talking about. “What does that mean?”

“This is not an uncommon occurrence. While I’ve never had a child out of marriage, many mistresses have babies in our world. I can find someone to help raise it.”

Was he serious right now? This was how he was attempting to make me feel better? Get in line, Frankie. All the mafia whores have bastards. And who would help raise it? His next mantenuta?

Over my dead body.

Fausto clearly didn’t want me around for the long haul. He was already planning how to raise this child without me. Weren’t men at least supposed to offer to marry the woman they knocked up?

You don’t want to marry him. You were planning to go back to school.

He kept talking. “Though not an heir, this child will be treated like a king because he is mine. Another Ravazzani for the brotherhood.”

“How do you know it’s a boy?”

“I don’t. But either a boy or a girl will serve in their own way. It is how things are done here.”

Was he listening to himself? Already signing our child up for a lifetime of misery and violence. I didn’t want this—for me or my child.

I rolled off the bed in a flash and pointed to the door. “Get the fuck out, Fausto.”

He made no effort to move. “We need to talk about this, Francesca.”

“I’m done talking. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. This is my body. I will decide what happens in the future. Not you.”

His expression twisted into something dark, something frightening. I hadn’t seen him this angry since I had stabbed him with a pen. “If you harm yourself or that child, there will be hell to pay. Do you understand me?”

“Do your worst! Whatever you do can’t be any worse than kidnapping me, keeping me here, getting me pregnant and stealing my future from me. I don’t want to have a baby, especially not with you!”

Very carefully, he got up off the bed. He came over to me but didn’t touch me. “It is too late for immature tantrums. You let me fuck you and come inside you. In fact, I remember several times you begged me to fill you up with my come. Do not blame this all on me, monella.”

Oh, I would absolutely blame this all on him.

Lifting my chin, I said, “I want to go back to Toronto.”

“No fucking chance,” he snarled. “You and my child will stay here.”

“For how long? Until you get tired of me? What then?”

“I will always take care of you and this child, Francesca.”

That was an evasion if I’d ever heard one, and it didn’t reassure me in the least. I wanted to be alone so I could contemplate an escape plan. “Get out.”

He stared down at me, his blue gaze inscrutable and hard. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and I was too mad to care.

Before I could tell him to get out again, he grabbed my wrist and began bringing me toward the door. I dug in my heels. “What are you doing? Let me go. I’m not going anywhere with you!” Silent, he picked me up and began carrying me. “Fausto, goddamn it. Put me down.”

I continued to struggle all the way into his wing. When we arrived in his bedroom, he finally placed me on the floor, but he didn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he dragged me to the wardrobe where he kept his sex toys. Was he planning on spanking me? Worse, gagging me? I tried to pull free.

“Stop,” he said, his voice tight with fury. “I am not going to hurt you.”

“I don’t care. And whatever you are getting out of that drawer is a waste of time because I won’t have sex with you.”

He lifted a pair of handcuffs. Before I could tell him to go fuck himself, he had the bracelet secured around my wrist. I hid my other hand behind my back. But I needn’t have bothered. The other bracelet went around his own wrist and clicked into place.

The asshole handcuffed us together.

“You will stay here in my room from now on. I’ll have your things moved tomorrow.”

I gaped at him. “Have you gone insane? I am not staying here, handcuffed to you. I want to go back to my own room.”

“Absolutely not. Now, do you want to get ready for bed or shall I do it for you?”

* * *

Fausto

I woke up first.

Francesca slept next to me, her luscious body pressed tight to my side. Even angry, she wanted to be close to me.

I hadn’t lied—I was not unhappy about this child. I’d always wanted more children, but Lucia and I never had time before she was killed. Then I never found the right mantenuta to trust with raising a child. But I trusted Francesca. As furious as she was now, I had seen her with Lamborghini and the other animals. She had a gentle heart. She would make an excellent mother.

My cock thickened just thinking about her round belly and swollen breasts. Stretch marks from my child increasing inside her. I could not wait to dote on her hand and foot. Zia would be thrilled, as well. My aunt loved babies.

Clearly, my stubborn piccola monella would not go easily into this situation. She would fight this, keep demanding to go back to Toronto. I had to convince her to stay—for her sake and the baby’s. I would not have my unborn child upset by discord between its parents. It wasn’t healthy.

Lucia and I had been separated while she was pregnant with Giulio. She had moved to the other wing, and we never had regular sex again. Instead I had found a mantenutaand left my wife alone, as it seemed she preferred.

I didn’t want that for this pregnancy.

Besides, I wasn’t certain I was capable of leaving Francesca alone. I needed to have her close, watch all these changes and be present for my child’s birth. I needed to fuck her and make her come, ensure she was happy and healthy for the entire nine months.

I would treat her like a queen.

She had no idea of the financial gain she’d receive for giving me a healthy child. Many women had begged me to fuck them without a condom over the years and I always resisted. I never risked a baby with a casual fuck.

I wasn’t sure why I’d been so careless with Francesca. Fucking her raw had been a risk, one I well knew, but I hadn’t been thinking straight when it came to her pussy. Probably because Francesca was more than a casual fuck to me. I cared for her. In fact, I was perfectly happy to keep her here at the castello for the rest of her life.

Not that she was ready to hear as much.

I slid my hand over her flat stomach, resting it where my child was growing. Cazzo, I liked that. She would be so beautiful, full of life. Full of my baby.

After I had handcuffed us together last night, I cut off her shirt and bra, so she was deliciously naked against me right now, warm and soft from sleep. I knew the best way to keep my girl happy was to give her orgasms. Francesca liked sex as much as I did, and she craved the dirty and dark. Just as I did.

My fingers trailed between her legs, parting her folds to stroke her sex. She was already wet for me. Lust twisted in my belly, so I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, trying to remain gentle. I found her clit and stroked it lightly, loving the feel of her slick heat. Her breath quickened and I could sense her coming more fully awake.

I continued to pet her until her hips rocked slightly, seeking. Pulling her leg over mine, I spread her wider, giving me better access. Her arm came up to wind around my head. I had unlocked the handcuffs last night after she fell asleep, so I now had full use of both hands to pleasure her.

Remaining silent, I kissed her throat and pinched her clit. She gasped at the pain then moaned at the resulting pleasure after I let go. Then I slid two fingers inside her, and her walls sucked me in greedily. Yes, I needed that so badly, her tight cunt gripping my cock and milking my come from me.

Shifting her leg, I lined my tip up at her entrance and shoved inside. I went about halfway before I met resistance, so I gave her a moment to adjust, my fingers returning to her clit. When she rolled her hips for more, I slid the rest of the way home. I tried to go gently with her, to fuck her slowly, but she dug her nails into my backside, pulling me roughly toward her. “Fausto, please.”

That pleading voice did me in. I gave up trying to fight it.

I got her up on all fours and began riding her hard. She clutched the sheets. “God, yes. Harder. Fuck!”

“Am I hurting you?” Were pregnant women allowed to be rough in bed? I would need to ask the doctor.

“Stop talking and keep fucking me.”

I froze. Even though my balls screamed for release, I didn’t move. No, this was not how things went between us. It was very much the opposite, with me giving orders and Francesca obeying them.

She tried to rock back onto my dick, but I held her hips still and pulled out. As expected, she snarled, “What are you doing?”

I lifted her up until her back met my chest, her knees on the bed. My erection slid between her thighs, close to her entrance but never inside. I thrust gently, teasing her. “I am reminding you whose bed you are in right now. Who is fucking you?”

“You bastard.”

She was still furious with me, but I didn’t care. I would wear her down through pleasure.

I squeezed a breast in each hand, molding them, then I rolled her nipples between my fingertips. My tip skimmed the entrance to her pussy. “Who?”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. You wish you did, but you don’t. And you’ll get my cock if you answer me.” I let her feel the thick length between her legs. “Won’t that feel good, baby?”

She whimpered, her head thrashing on my shoulder.

“I want to fuck you so badly,” I told her. “I dream about fucking you, Francesca. I have never wanted anyone more. Tu sei perfetta.”

“Fausto, please. Fuck me.”

I angled her hips so I could slide inside. Shivers wracked my body as I drove deep, the bliss so intense. She dropped onto her hands and I bent over her back, grinding and thrusting, rutting like an animal. I’d never been so wild, so out of control with any other woman. I craved her like a drug, wanted to get as deep inside her as possible.

“There you go,” I growled against her shoulder. “Do you like that? Is that what you need?”

“God, yes. More, paparino.”

The name had my balls drawing up tight, ready to spill. “You are so fucking sexy, taking my cock like the best girl. Taking my come from me. I am going to take such good care of you, my dirty piccolina.”

She whimpered, and I could tell she was close. I needed her to come because I couldn’t hold on much longer.

Lifting slightly, I slid my fingers between her ass cheeks and let my thumb find the hole there. I circled with gentle pressure. She bucked and the tip of my thumb slid inside. That did it. Her body locked and her pussy clamped down on me, strangling me as she came.

My orgasm didn’t wait, instead rushing over me, stealing my breath as come shot out the head of my cock. We climaxed together, a mass of trembling limbs and incoherent words.

When it was over, I pulled her close, until she rested half on top of me. I stroked her back as we tried to catch our breath, sweat cooling on our skin. I kept silent, letting her work through whatever was in her mind.

“You aren’t going to let me go, are you?” she finally asked.

“No.”

“Can I move back into my room?”

“No.” I didn’t care if this made me a bastard, I wanted her close to me.

“Why not?”

I figured I owed her the truth. “As soon as Lucia became pregnant with Giulio, she moved into the other wing. I never got to see the little changes in her, the signs of my son growing in her body. I always regretted that. She didn’t even let me inside the delivery room.” I kissed her hair. “I don’t want to miss that this time around. And I want to help you and take care of you.”

“Did you have a mistress when your wife was pregnant?”

I debated how to answer this. “If you are asking whether I will sleep with another woman while you are pregnant with my child, the answer is no.”

“You had fucking better not, but that wasn’t what I asked.”

“Francesca, nearly every married man in my world has a mantenuta, especially when their wives are pregnant. Lucia knew this, as she was raised in our culture. It was not a surprise.” I gave a small laugh. “She was likely relieved.”

“Because?”

Were we really discussing my marriage? I never did, not to anyone. It felt disloyal, considering my wife was dead and could never share her side of the events. Furthermore, what was the point? But as the mother of my next child, Francesca deserved to know. “Because I think I scared her. She was...delicate. Timid. A proper Italian wife for the head of the Calabrian mafia. She would never refuse me, but I don’t think she enjoyed what we did in bed together.”

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“You shouldn’t. Not all women are like you.” I cupped her ass, then moved my fingers between her legs, where my seed mixed with her juices. I played with her, pushing my come back into her cunt. “You need this. You crave it, the dirtier the better. We like the same things.”

“Which is why I ended up pregnant.”

She sounded despondent again, so I rolled her onto her back to see her face. Pushing her hair out of the way, I stared into her eyes. “This is not the end of your life. If you do not want to be a mother, I will understand. I have Zia and Giulio, and I can hire women to act as a nanny to my child. But I would like for you to stay, to raise this baby with me. To love him or her as much as I do, and to make a home here.”

She studied me, her expression skeptical. “Until you get tired of me and start sleeping with someone else.”

I flopped onto my back and moved my free hand in an aggravated gesture. “Basta, Francesca! How many ways can I say this will not happen?”

“Words are not enough, not any more. I want some sort of contract. A legal agreement between us that outlines what happens if things go wrong. Then I’ll consider staying.”

“Is this what you need to feel safe and secure with me?”

“Yes. Clearly, we aren’t getting married, so I need some security for what happens down the road. For me and the child.”

“Fine.”

She gaped at me. “You’re really agreeing?”

I frowned at her. “Are you doubting my word?”

“A capo never goes back on a decision once it is made,” she recited in a bad Italian accent, rolling her eyes.

I smacked her ass in retaliation. “Was that supposed to be me? You must practice more, dolcezza. Enunciate like a true Italian and roll your r’s.”

She laughed, and it was a joy to see her relaxed and no longer furious with me. I cupped the back of her neck and brought her mouth to mine for a long kiss. She gave me her tongue and I took full advantage, in no hurry to let her go. When we broke apart, I said, “See? All looks better after a good night’s sleep and a good fucking, no?”

“I’m still not happy about this, Fausto.”

“Allora, let me be happy enough for both of us until I can convince you.” I kissed her again. “Okay?”

Tears suddenly welled in her eyes and I didn’t know why. Panic filled me as I examined her face. “What did I say? Francesca, baby. Please, I didn't mean to make you cry.”

“I can’t help it. You’re being very sweet and I don’t know how to handle you when you are sweet.”

My muscles relaxed and I pulled her close. “Do not worry, then. I’ll soon return to being a stronzo.”

“Good, because that I am definitely used to.”