Page 113 of Mafia Mistress

“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.”

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