Page 122 of Mafia Mistress

Then I held up my hands and backed away from him. “You’re crazy. Don’t fucking come near me ever again.”

His chest heaved, and his mouth twisted into something sinister, his eyes so cold and cruel that I winced. “You need not worry about that. I would never sleep with someone who betrayed me like this. Marco!” he bellowed.

Marco couldn’t have been far, because the door instantly opened. “Sí, Rav?”

He continued in English, obviously wanting me to understand. “Take her upstairs and watch as she packs a bag. Then drive her to the beach house. She is no longer welcome here.”

I stood there, reeling. He was sending me away? Again? More punishment at the hands of Fausto Ravazzani. Was he hoping there would be a tsunami this time?

This was the final straw. He’d done this too many times and I would never forgive him. “You bastard,” I hissed. “Do not come apologizing to me when you realize what a mistake you’ve made. Because it will be too late.”

“I never change my mind, not after someone betrays me. You are dead to me, Francesca Mancini.”

First my father, now Fausto? Shit, why did that hurt so badly? I grabbed my chest, certain it would crack open and spill out all over the fancy eastern carpets. “Good. Now I can go back to Toronto!”

He walked back to his desk and started sorting through papers, dismissing me like a servant. “After the birth, you’ll be free to leave.”

“I will not let you have my child. You’re a terrible father, and I’d rather raise them alone.”

“Unfortunately, that will not happen. The child is mine and will be raised here. Marco.” He waved his cousin forward. “Get her out of my sight.”

A ball of misery lodged in my throat, burning, but I would not let him see me cry. Why would I want to stay here anyway? He’d called me a whore and said I had betrayed him.

Because you love him.

Yes, I did and what a fool I was, falling for such a terrible man. I deserved to be alone and heartbroken.

“Oh, and remove my phone from her,” he added. “She takes nothing I bought for her.”

Just when I thought I couldn’t hurt any more, he carved out more of my chest. He thinks I’m a gold digger. That I was a whore who was in it for the yacht and clothes and jewelry.

Fuck. Him.

I ripped the phone from my back pocket and threw it against the wall, where it cracked open and fell. “You are going to regret this, Fausto Ravazzani. I am the best thing that has ever happened to you. And it will be too late when you realize it.”

“Cugino,” he said impatiently, not even looking up.

Marco touched my arm. “Signorina Mancini.”

“Don’t touch me.” I jerked away from him and walked out, my head high. I would walk out like a queen, even though Fausto had treated me like dirt.

And he could drop dead.

* * *

Fausto

Everyonein my household hated me.

It had been two weeks, and Giulio still wouldn’t speak to me, his eyes full of sadness and heartbreak. Zia was furious that I’d sent Francesca away. I couldn’t tell her why, except to say that Francesca had betrayed me. Zia replied that it was nonsense, that Francesca was in love with me and I had ruined it with my temper.

I didn’t have the heart to correct her.

Even Marco seemed to tiptoe around me, acting like I was a volcano that might erupt at any moment.

Perhaps I was a bit on edge, but wasn’t I allowed? I was the most important man in Calabria, perhaps all of Italy, and I had a secretly gay son and a gold-digging traitor pregnant with my child. I increased the speed on my treadmill and my legs began to burn. I’d already logged one hour running, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep going.

But I couldn’t stop until I was exhausted. It was the only way I could sleep.

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