Page 40 of Mafia Mistress

Great. Now I had that visual in my head. I shifted in my seat, suddenly very warm. “At least she tells you she likes it. She’s probably very good at faking it.”

“Oh, there’s no need to fake with me. Italian men are very attentive partners, Francesca. Making a woman come is necessary to men here, like breathing air.”

Unbidden, my gaze darted to his mouth. Did he give oral? David hadn’t been a fan and I’d always wondered what it was like. Something told me Ravazzani loved to eat a woman out. My thighs clenched, and I had to get the hell out of this car. “Are we done?”

He produced the gun again. “I don’t know. Are we?”

Was he threatening to shoot me? It didn’t matter. I had to remain strong and never show this man any fear. He would crush me if I did. “I won’t marry your son. So go ahead and do your worst, Ravazzani.”

Reaching over me, he flicked the handle and the car door opened. His smile was all teeth when he said, “Do not worry about that, piccola monella. I most definitely will.”

I hurried from the car and didn’t look back.

* * *

When Giulio askedif I’d like to take the boat out two days later, I eagerly agreed. Being off the estate meant the possibility of escape, and I would grab every opportunity presented.

I expected one of those deep sea fishing boats. Or maybe a sleek speedboat. I did not expect a gigantic 30-meter mega-yacht with split-level decks and a pool.

Dark tinted windows ran along the side, hiding the interior from curious eyes. Perfect for mafia business, I supposed. The name on the back read, Il Destino.

Great. Even here I couldn’t escape the Ravazzani concept of fate.

“This is your boat?” I asked as he helped me aboard.

“It’s my father’s. Don’t you like it?”

“What’s not to like? This is a floating five-star hotel.”

Giulio chuckled. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

He briefly spoke with one of the crew members and then we set off. Each deck was more impressive than the last. Large living spaces, lounges, lush cabins, and a beach club pool area in the rear. In the front was a master suite complete with jacuzzi and helipad, plus a glass bottom window to the ocean below. I tried not to drool as we walked around, but it was a struggle.

“I would never leave if this yacht was mine,” I said, dragging a finger across the soft leather chair. We were already headed into the blue waters of the Ionian Sea, the salty breeze in our faces.

“Then you should prepare to stay because this will be yours someday. Ours, actually.”

That significantly dampened my enthusiasm. I didn’t want to think about our pending marriage or Fausto Ravazzani. I’d managed to avoid him by working outside in the vineyard and with the animals. The castle staff was kind and patient with me, especially considering the language barrier. Giulio had bought me a book on how to learn Italian, though, so I was slowly getting better.

Do not ever try to tell me you weren’t made for this life, that you weren’t born to rule as a queen.

I closed my eyes, unwilling to consider it. That couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. I had a life in Toronto, a family that I missed. I wanted to go to school and choose my own husband. Marrying into my father’s world—Fausto’s world—was out of the question. I would never have any independence if I did.

“Are you feeling ill?” Giulio touched my arm. “We have medicine for that.”

“No, I’m fine. I won’t get seasick.”

He smirked down at me. “Just like you won’t get sick from drinking?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “You are the one who let me drink so much grappa.”

“As if I could have stopped you. Now let’s go have some lunch and get some sun.”

We went to the beach club area on the bottom deck. Lobster salad, fresh bread and crisp white wine had been laid out on the table near the pool. Giulio whipped off his shirt, leaving him in just a pair of tiny swim shorts and sunglasses. He was all bronze skin and lean muscles, with several tattoos on a torso with very little body fat. God, he was gorgeous.

Good genes obviously ran in his family, and I wondered what the elder Ravazzani looked like under his clothing. Probably just as ripped, but with more body hair and bulkier. Stronger. Thicker....

“You have the strangest look on your face right now.” Giulio frowned at me. “Do you not like lobster?”

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