Page 5 of Mafia Mistress

And it didn’t matter. The marriage would forge a strong bond between our families, as well as settle a debt. A win-win.

Marco glanced at me in the rear-view mirror. “Should we go back to the hotel?”

“For a bit. But she’s going to run, so we need to be ready.” Mancini had given his daughters too much independence, clearly, with no discipline or consequences. The manner in which Francesca had spoken to her father and to me meant she didn’t know her place. I almost envied my son for his task of bringing her to heel.

I liked women with spirit. They were much more fun to fuck, and having a strong woman bend to my will always got my dick hard.

Benito turned around. “You think she’s going to run?”

A smile tugged at my lips. “Oh, you can bet on it. But we’ll be waiting. Tell the pilot we leave today.”

* * *

Francesca

Later that afternoon,I threw my makeup bag into a satchel. I couldn’t bring much when I ran, but I would take my very favorite things, like the earrings Mama left me. A photo of me, Gia and Emma at CN Tower. The leggings that fit my legs and ass perfectly. And, of course, my passport and money.

“This is a bad idea,” my sister, Emma, said. “How are you going to live?”

“Forget about that, how is she going to escape Papà and the guards?” Gia turned the page in her magazine, barely paying attention. “You’ll never even reach the street, Frankie.”

“Yes, I will.”

Two years ago, I discovered the cameras didn’t cover one sliver of the stone wall surrounding our house, so I chipped footholds into the stone, which allowed me to come and go as often as I dared. It was how I snuck out to lose my virginity to David last November.

My sisters didn’t know this, however. That escape route was too dangerous for anyone but me.

Gia made a noise in her throat like she didn’t believe me. “Papà’s going to be totally pissed when you’re caught.”

Bag packed, I went and sat on the bed next to them. “I hate to leave you both, but I have to do this. I cannot marry some stranger and become a mafia wife, trapped at home with a zillion kids while my husband fucks a mistress on the side.”

“The Ravazzanis are loaded,” Gia said. “I Googled them. They live in a castle, Frankie. An honest to God castle. And the son is a total snack. I don’t know what you’re bitching about.”

God, Gia was so spoiled. She had no idea how bad it could truly get for mafia wives. “Mama gave up her modeling career for Papà and she always regretted it. You don’t remember her as well as I do, but I can’t give up the chance at a normal life. Not for any amount of money. It’s not worth it.”

“I understand,” Emma said, always the level-headed twin. “And I don’t think you should agree. The man who came here, his father? They call him il Diavolo.”

The Devil.

I could well believe it. No one rose to the top of the Calabrian mafia without being evil and terrifying.

Emma touched my hand. “I have a thousand dollars saved up in my room. Do you want it?”

I felt like crying. Again. I threw my arms around her. “I can’t take your money, Emma. You might need it someday. But it’s very kind of you to offer.” I had five thousand plus some gold coins in my satchel. It wouldn’t last long, but it would be enough to disappear. I hoped.

Next I hugged Gia, who embraced me almost reluctantly. “I’m just going to see you again in an hour or so when Papà’s men drag you back inside,” she said.

“Well, in case you don’t, please give me a hug.”

That got Gia’s arms to tighten ever so slightly. “Good luck, Frankie.”

“I love you both. Use these next two years to figure a way out. He won’t marry you off before you’re eighteen.”

“He might,” Emma said. “Gabriella Pizzuto’s father arranged her marriage when she was only thirteen.”

Gross. I stood and grabbed my satchel. “You can both come with me, you know.”

Gia frowned. “That would only make it easier for us to be caught. Besides, they won’t hurt us in retaliation.”

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