Page 27 of Mafia Mistress

This caused him to throw his head back and laugh. “I see you are picking up more Italian.”

“Only the helpful words.” I ate the bite of cooked pork and it was delicious, damn it.

We split a tartufo for dessert and drank cappuccino. As much as I didn’t want to be in Italy, I had to admit this had been a perfect meal. And I didn’t hate my time with Giulio. What did that say about me? Was I giving in already?

The thought depressed me, but even more depressing was the thought of returning to the castle. My prison. I wasn’t ready to face Ravazzani and his unforgiving eyes and lush, stern mouth. No doubt he would gloat over his victory of getting Giulio and I to go out together, never mind that he’d blackmailed me to do it.

Stronzo, indeed.

An idea occurred. “Where do you go for fun in Siderno?”

Giulio pursed his lips before taking a sip of espresso. “What are you thinking, Frankie?”

“I am thinking I don’t want to go back yet. Sitting in the castle is lame. Let’s go have some fun.”

“I’m supposed to bring you straight home.”

“Orders from your father, no doubt.” I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Giulio. I’m sure there is some safe place where you can take me so we can live a little.”

“Oh, sure. Figurati! Defy my father. You make it sound so easy.”

“He won’t mind if we are spending time together. That’s all he wants anyway.”

“True.” He exhaled and checked his watch. “I’ll take you to one of our nightclubs. No one will bother us there.”

I put down my spoon. “I’m ready.”

* * *

We pulledup to the club’s front entrance. Marco, our driver for the evening, had been none too pleased about this stop, but we promised to only stay an hour. No doubt he’d already texted the capo to tattle on us, but I didn’t care. The bass thumped in my chest as soon as I stepped out of the car. Yes, I needed this distraction.

Ignoring the long line out front, Giulio shook hands with the man at the door and then we were inside. The sound in here was louder, with bright lights flashing above a wide dance floor. Bodies were everywhere, young and beautiful Italians who weren’t being forced into a marriage they didn’t want. I longed to lose myself in them, even if it was only for one hour.

“Would you like a drink?” Giulio asked over the loud music.

“No, I’d rather dance.”

“Come on, then.”

Taking my hand, he led me to the dance floor. I’d only been to one other club, a secret outing with a girlfriend from school. Except I’d spent the entire night looking over my shoulder, fearing my father’s men would appear at any moment. I hadn’t been able to relax and ended up leaving sooner than planned.

Tonight, I’d make the most of this outing. Giulio would have to carry me out of here kicking and screaming.

On the floor, we began jumping and writhing with the rest of the crowd, pressed in with strangers while staying close to each other. He didn’t try to grind on me, which I was grateful for. Most guys tried to cop a feel while dancing, thinking the close proximity gave them access to a woman’s body.

He’ll have access to my body soon enough.

Letting my eyes close, I swayed and tried to forget where I was and why I’d been brought here. For someone who hated tight spaces, I should have been miserable on the cramped dance floor. But there was something about the music and the anonymity that put me at ease. It felt like freedom.

The songs blurred together, one after another. Giulio could really move, and the people around us—men and women—took notice. I didn’t feel jealous, though, not even when a woman ran her hands all over his back.

He looked at me, probably to gauge my reaction, so I gave him two thumbs up. “Yes, Giulio,” I shouted. “Get it!”

He shook his head, though his lips twitched. “We are supposed to be engaged, no?”

I held up my left hand. “I don’t see a ring.”

Laughing, he drew in closer. “There’s an associate in the VIP area who I need to speak with. Would you like to come or stay here?”

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