Page 79 of Mafia Mistress

Chapter Twenty

Francesca

Giulio appearedin my doorway after I had showered and dressed. “Cristo santo, Frankie. I was worried about you last night. Are you okay?”

He was dressed like a fashion model, expensive fabrics carelessly draped over his lean frame, his hair perfectly styled. His features were softer than Fausto’s, handsome in a more classical sense. His mother must have been beautiful, too.

I sighed and waved him in. “Barely. I was scared shitless.”

“I can believe it. That was a bad storm.” He shook his head and closed the door. “My father’s temper is a fearsome thing. He must have been very mad at you to leave you out there.”

I figured I could level with Giulio. “He asked me not to wear the black bikini during his meeting with Enzo.”

“And you wore it?” Giulio winced. “Bella, that was asking for trouble.”

“I know, and he later explained why. But I didn’t know any of that at the time. I should be able to wear what I want.”

“You don’t know many Italian men, do you?”

“There are plenty of Italian men in Toronto.”

“No, there are Italian-Canadian men. I mean, true Italian men. It is a much different thing. They can be very domineering.”

“You’re not like that.”

He gave me a wolfish grin. “Not with women, I’m not.”

I laughed. “You’re all assholes.”

“That’s true.” The smile dropped and he stared at me soberly. “Is he...? I mean to say, are you okay with this? With him?”

How to answer that? I had so many conflicting emotions. I wanted to go home, but I also craved Fausto’s body like air and water. And living here wasn’t so terrible. The castello and the estate were beautiful, and I was in Italy. Other than a lack of a phone and laptop—and Fausto’s refusal to let me leave—it was the perfect summer vacation.

I could see Giulio was truly worried, so I had to be honest. “I’m okay. For now. It’s weird telling you this, but I’m insanely attracted to your father. We’re having fun hooking up.”

“Fausto, fun? I don’t believe it.”

I bit my lip, remembering our little games. Fausto’s dirty mouth, my compliance, his rewards. It was a vicious cycle I was becoming addicted to. “I won’t traumatize you with the details, but yes. He’s intense and a total dick sometimes, but what we are doing together is fun. At least it was, until he had to go and ruin it last night.”

“I definitely do not want details,” he said, holding up a hand. “But I am glad you are happy.”

“He said he would let me go when we got bored of each other. Then I’ll go back to Toronto and start college.” Hopefully Columbia would still take me, as I’d already been admitted once. If not, I’d find another school in America, far away from my family and the ’Ndrangheta.

“He takes good care of each mantenuta. He bought Katarzyna a house on the water in Portofino.”

I blinked. “What? A house?”

“And a diamond bracelet.”

“Holy crap.” Talk about parting gifts. But I didn’t want jewelry or a vacation home. I wanted my freedom. To go to college, study, and live like a normal young person. My father hadn’t allowed any independence growing up, and I had hated it, using every chance I could find to sneak out.

Is that what Fausto thought, that I expected a payout when this was done? I was sleeping with him because I wanted to, and because he was a beast in bed. I didn’t need his money. My family was wealthy, too. I haven’t ever wanted for anything in my life.

Suddenly, the door opened and the devil himself walked in.

I couldn’t help but feel conflicted. He looked gorgeous, already put together in one of his designer three-piece suits. He’d shaved since I saw him last, his handsome face now smooth. But I was still angry with him, so my hormones needed to sit the fuck down.

“Do you mind?” I said, attempting to sound stern. “You’re supposed to ask if you can come in first.”

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