Page 74 of Mafia Mistress

My skin prickled in the silence and I glanced over. Fausto’s eyes were narrowed on me, his jaw tight. Was he annoyed that I interrupted?

Then I remembered my bikini.

Shit.

Well, that was too bad. I was allowed to wear what I wanted. If Enzo wanted to gawk at my boobs, who cared? I’m sure he’d seen plenty in his time. Mine were certainly nothing special. And if Mariella was anything to go by, he preferred flat-chested women who modeled on the weekends.

I lifted my chin and continued to the bathroom. Not going to lie, I was pretty buzzed right about then. I didn’t care about Fausto’s anger...unless he was going to spank me. And then I was definitely up for it. I chuckled as I locked the door behind me and did my business. Then I washed my hands and checked my front and back in the mirror. I looked pretty good, actually. The time I was spending in the sun had given my skin a slight glow and today was a good hair day.

When I walked back through the seating area, I waved at the men. “Mi scusi!”

Enzo’s deep voice uttered a string of Italian I didn’t understand, except for the last word, “puttanella.”

Slut.

I nearly tripped. Was he saying that about me? That asshole. Slowing, I waited to hear Fausto put Enzo in his place. Pull a gun or smack the back of his head. Whatever Fausto did, I knew it was going to be bad.

Instead, he laughed.

That motherfucker actually laughed.

Enzo had called me a whore and Fausto had laughed, like it was a big joke. Like I was a joke. Just a warm pussy to stick his dick in at the end of the day.

Fuck. Him.

I would make him regret that laugh if it was the last thing I ever did.

---