Mafia Mistress by Mila Finelli

Chapter Six

Fausto

I cameinto the kitchen the next morning at my usual time. My son was there with Zia, but Francesca was still absent. She’d been too ill from grappa to eat with us last evening and apparently was not yet awake.

I didn’t like it.

Giulio and Francesca seemed happy yesterday in the tasting room. Unable to help myself, I’d watched the security footage, soaking in the way she smiled at him. Studying the curve of her lips when she laughed. It was clear she liked my son, and I told myself that was a good thing. A sign of their future together, a team working toward the common goal of the future success of the Ravazzani family.

I kissed Zia’s cheeks and made a cup of espresso. Giulio was on his phone, scrolling through videos of some kind. He’d gone out last night for work and, from the looks of it, was only getting home. “Rough night?” I asked.

Out of respect, he put down his phone and gave me his full attention. “No. I was at the club until around three. Then we had a shipment to oversee. Everything is stored.”

“Any problems?”

“None.”

“You are just getting home now?”

A flush worked its way above his collar. “I was out with friends.”

Getting laid, then. “Try to keep your other women away from your fiancée, at least until after the wedding.”

“And not in this house,” Zia said, pointing at Giulio. “Your father and his women are bad enough. I cannot take more.”

I frowned and sipped my espresso. Zia hated that I brought my mistresses into the castello, but I had little choice. There have been many attempts on my life and, after what happened to Lucia, I learned to be more cautious. I was safe here.

Besides, I was the boss. If I wanted to fuck a woman in my own house, I would.

“I won’t,” Giulio told Zia. “I promise.”

“Your fiancée is alive?” I asked. “Not too much grappa?”

“She was sleeping when I left last night. There couldn’t have been much remaining in her system at that point.”

“Good. Bring her to my office this morning.”

Giulio searched my eyes as if trying to read my intentions, but he knew better than to question a direct order. “I’ll fix her a tray and take it up.”

I nodded, refreshed my caffé, and departed for my office. Marco would arrive soon with verbal updates on business matters. Until then, I would read the emails regarding the legitimate ventures, offering up opinions when warranted.

Truth be told, I liked the legitimate work better, the strategy and moving money around, but I was more suited to the extortion, drug-running, and gambling operations. Not everyone had the stomach for what needed to be done to run an organization like ours, but I did. Some days, I even relished the violence and chaos.

The sun was just rising over the vineyards outside my office window. The sight never failed to please me. All of this belonged to me, as it had belonged to five generations of Ravazzani men. And it would eventually belong to Giulio and his sons after him. Would they appreciate the sights and smells as much as I did? The rich tang of the earth and the slightly salty air from the ocean? I loved this property, this land that was in my bones. I would fight for it until my last breath. I’d murder, cheat, and steal to keep it, if necessary.

Briefly, I wondered about Giulio’s amante. Who was he seeing? I trusted my son to keep the family’s secrets, but not all women were trustworthy. I should learn her name and do a little digging. Better to worry over nothing than regret it later.

Thirty minutes later, a knock on my office door distracted me from my computer. “Enter.”

A very annoyed-looking Francesca arrived with my son. She held herself stiffly, the circles under her eyes giving away her exhaustion. She wore a simple sundress and no shoes, her skin red from being outside yesterday. From now on, I’d tell Giulio to insist she wear sunscreen. The Italian sun was stronger than what she was used to in Canada.

I stood and slipped my hands into my trouser pockets. “Thank you, Giulio. You may go.”

My son blinked, clearly not expecting to be dismissed, but it was time to deal with some practicalities of the pending marriage. As head of the family, these were my responsibilities to handle for him.

Francesca reached out to clutch his arm, preventing Giulio from leaving. “Can’t he stay?”

For some reason, that pissed me off. As if she needed him to protect her from me. Didn’t she know that my son would never dare to question or contradict me, no matter what I wished to do in this house?

“No,” I snapped.

“I’m off to catch a few hours of sleep,” Giulio told her. “I’ll see you this afternoon.” To me, he nodded once and walked out the door.

“Please.” I gestured to the chairs before my desk. “Sit.”

Lifting her chin, she lowered herself into the seat. I did the same and folded my hands as I regarded her. “Are you feeling better?”

“If you mean do I still feel like throwing up, then no. But I don’t feel remotely human at the moment.”

“Perhaps go easy on the grappa next time.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it make it easier to manipulate me if I were drunk?”

I steepled my fingers and rested them on my lower lip. “I can manipulate you drunk or sober, Francesca. It is your choice.”

“God, you are the worst.” She rubbed her temples, so aggrieved by my presence. It only made me want to rattle her more. “Get to the point, Ravazzani.”

“Suocero,” I corrected.

“What?”

“Father-in-law. You should practice how to say it.”

“You know, on second thought the urge to vomit is suddenly back. I think I should go upstairs.”

She started to rise out of her chair, but I held up a hand. “Do not move. We have a few things to discuss.”

“Like?” She folded her arms across her chest, calling my attention to her tits. The dress pulled tight across them, creating deep, mesmerizing cleavage. She looked like one of those Hollywood pin-up girls from the 1940s.

“Like your wedding dress.”

Going pale, she put a hand on her stomach and exhaled heavily. Perhaps her comment about vomiting once more had not been made in jest. I took the empty bin from under my desk and set it within her reach, then waited. She soon regained her color and narrowed her eyes on me. “I don’t need a wedding dress.”

I didn’t bother correcting her. “I have called in a favor with a designer friend in Milan. She will fly in tomorrow with racks of dresses for you to choose from. Then you will be fitted and the dress will be ready in a few weeks’ time.”

“I won’t choose one.”

I lifted a shoulder like I didn’t care. “Then I will choose one for you. Are you on the pill, Francesca?” I had seen her health reports so I knew the answer, but I still wanted her to tell me.

Her brows shot up and she clutched the armrests. “What? How is that any of your business?”

“Until you marry my son, everything about you is my business. Answer the question.”

“I had the shot two months ago. Would you like to know my latest pap smear results, too? How about my weight and bra size?”

That had my gaze dipping to her chest once more and I couldn’t prevent the flare of heat from sparking in my groin. Fuck, how I longed to take her over my knee and spank her until she stopped acting like a brat. It would be fun to show her what I liked, teach her how to serve my every need. Break her until she craved my touch. My dick pulsed at the prospect, but I forced myself to lock those unwanted thoughts away. She belonged to Giulio.

“I’d suggest you put more respect in your tone when dealing with me,” I warned her. “You do want your things back, no?”

She became very still, suspicion dawning in her chestnut-colored stare. “You are giving me my things?”

“I might consider it, if you stop fighting me.”

“I’ll pass, then.”

I almost smiled. The girl had spirit, that was for certain. Confidence, too, the kind that came from experiencing sadness and death in your life. Like you knew you had faced the worst life had to offer and survived. I knew that feeling well.

“How about this?” I said. “I will give you the satchel if you choose a suitable wedding dress.”

“Really?”

“I never go back on my word once a deal is made.”

“Fine.”

She answered too quickly and now I was the suspicious one. What was she planning? My friend Celestina would provide enough choices for Francesca to find a dress she liked. There would be no way around it. I held out my hands. “See? That was not so difficult.”

“I want a phone.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“First, because you haven’t earned the privilege. Second, it isn’t safe. If you need to make a call, Giulio or I can help you. Until you learn our rules and are willing to abide by them, it is too risky.”

“I need to call my family.”

“I will think about it.”

Her nostrils flared and I could see how she struggled not to lash out. After a long second, she asked, “And how am I supposed to earn these privileges?”

“By doing what you are told. Stop fighting me and the marriage to my son. Accept your fate, Francesca.”

Gracefully, she rose out of the chair. “I’d rather you kept your privileges. If that is all, capo?”

My title falling from her lips, even in sarcasm, twisted something dark and hot inside me, like the word unlocked a secret fetish I hadn’t known until now. I wanted to hear her say it again, but from her knees, begging me to fuck her mouth. Or on her back while I rode her hard. I wanted her to breathe it in my ear and scream it as she came. I wanted it to be both pleasure and pain, the only word she remembered in the bedroom.

I stared at her, breathing hard, an erection growing in my trousers, all the while convinced I was losing my mind. Never had a woman gotten under my skin in such a fashion. This could not continue. I needed her settled with Giulio. She would never be mine.

The best thing I could do was to push the two of them together more often. Starting tonight.

“That is all,” I said. “Enjoy your dinner in town later.”

Her dark brown brows pinched but she didn’t look at me. “Dinner in town?”

“With Giulio. I assume he told you, no?” Giulio hadn’t mentioned it because I just decided on the outing, but she didn’t need to know that.

“I can’t believe you are trusting me off the estate.”

Trust never even entered my mind. I had eyes and ears everywhere in Siderno and she wouldn’t get far if she tried to escape. Someone would turn her in to me. The wrath of the ’Ndrangheta meant certain death, and not many would be stupid enough to risk their lives to help a stranger. I’d make sure Giulio took some of our guards, as well. “I don’t need trust, Francesca, because you know who suffers if you disobey me.”

“Me?”

“And your sisters.”

Hate blazed in her gaze, her body nearly vibrating with the urge to shout at me, to scratch my eyes out. Anything to ease her suffering. But there would be no relief. I got what I wanted—always.

“You truly are the Devil.”

I gave her a sinister smile, the one I reserved for those who cheated or lied to me. “Never forget it, piccola monella.”

* * *

Marco walkedinto my office shortly after Francesca stormed out. My cousin did not appear happy, but his news would have to wait. I pointed at a chair. “Sit down. I have an errand for you.”

“When? Now?”

“Giulio is taking Francesca to dinner in town tonight. I want you to go with them.”

“Sure, I’ll play chaperone. That’s more exciting than spending time with my family.”

I couldn’t tell whether he was being sardonic or not. “Give them space. The idea is for them to get close.” Even though the thought made my chest burn with an emotion I dared not name. All the more reason I must push them together—quickly. This girl had me contemplating very stupid ideas, and I could not afford to act on any of them.

“Have you informed Giulio of this?”

“No, but he’ll do as he’s told.” I picked up my phone and texted him instructions. “There. He’s sleeping but he’ll see this later on.”

“I hear he was up late dealing with a delivery from our friends down south.”

“He told me there were no issues.”

“There weren’t...until later.”

I smoothed my tie, taking a second to compose myself before hearing disturbing news. I was already on edge from my meeting with Francesca. “What does that mean?”

Marco sighed. “Gratteri called. He inventoried the packages today and thought we were light, even though the men at the drop said it was all accounted for when they left.”

“How light?”

“Around four hundred grams.”

I instantly did the math. “That’s almost seventeen thousand Euros worth—and it’s missing?”

“Sí.”

“Who was the last to leave the storage site?”

“I’m told it was Giulio.”

“Cazzo.” I pounded my fist on the table.

“I know, but what would Giulio want with that much uncut cocaine? It doesn’t make sense.”

“He said he went out with friends after. Came in this morning as Zia served breakfast.”

“Did he look high?”

“No. Certainly not four hundred grams worth.”

Marco held up his palms. “Maybe he did go out and met a lot of friends. Maybe they partied all night.”

Even so, I didn’t like it. Giulio knew better than to take from the ’ndrina. I gave him everything he wanted. Our power and wealth meant no stealing required. And my son had never been into drugs. If so, I certainly would have heard about it. After his mother was killed, I kept a close eye on him, though I loosened my surveillance in the last three years as he took on more responsibilities. This had to be a mistake. “Tell Gratteri to count it again. I want every gram accounted for.”

“He’s already counted it three times, Rav.”

“It’s not a lot, but it looks sloppy. Worse, I cannot have Giulio’s name associated with any irregularities in our operation.”

“Agreed.”

“Don’t do anything, not until I can speak with Giulio. If he admits to taking the drugs, I’ll inform Gratteri that Giulio was acting under my orders.”

“No one will believe you need four hundred grams of coke.”

“Maybe, but no one would dare question me.”

“What will you do to Giulio if he admits it?”

I tapped my fingers on my desk. I never considered that discipline of this kind would be needed with my son. He’d been born and raised in our world, and he knew the consequences for transgressions. He’d even meted out quite a few himself over the last three or four years. The responsibility for punishment would fall on my shoulders...and I honestly didn’t know what I would do. “Cristo. I’m not sure.”

“Understandable, considering. Whatever happens, we’ll keep it quiet.”

“Yes, we fucking will—and the sooner he gets married, the better. Then he’ll settle down and begin to fulfill his obligations as my heir.”

Marco smirked. “I cannot picture you as nonno.”

I couldn’t see myself as a grandfather, either, but it didn’t matter. “You won’t be far behind me, not with Fabrizio’s reputation.” Marco’s oldest son was sixteen and slept with anything with a pair of tits.

“Bite your tongue. I am not ready to be so old.”

“Just wait. I’ll be a nonno and still get more pussy than you.”

“Go to hell.” Marco rose out of his chair. “Let me know when the lovebirds are ready to go out.”

The knot in my stomach twisted. “I will.”

“Oh, and did you hear? D'Agostino died.”

I leaned back in my chair and considered this news. D'Agostino had been the head of the Avellinos, a ’ndrina we’d warred with in the past. My father brokered peace with them when I was a boy, but not until after two of my uncles and six cousins had been killed.

Enzo, the eldest D'Agostino son, was known for his unpredictability. Some said he wasn’t right in the head. This would require careful navigation. We had to get along without giving up any of our power, a balance that seemed more and more difficult these days.

“We’ll have to arrange a meeting on neutral territory,” I said. “Make it appear as if we’re willing to work with them.”

“Want me to set it up?”

“No. Wait until they contact us. The Avellinos need us more than we need them.”

“That is certainly true. With our lock on the southern ports, only the Sicilians come close to doing our business.”

“I’ll let you know the time for tonight later.”

“Are you going to ask Giulio about the coke before he leaves for dinner?”

I thought about it. I needed Francesca to fall for Giulio, to accept this marriage, which meant I needed him charming and happy. If we argued, the evening might be ruined for everyone. “I’ll wait until the morning. Tell Gratteri I am looking into it. Let Giulio and his fiancée have fun tonight.”