Page 7 of Mafia Mistress

Chapter Three

Francesca

The dream wouldn’t let go.As I struggled to wake up, my brain felt as if it was swimming through molasses, sticky and thick. Where was I?

I heard murmurs and a rumbling underneath me. Was I in a car? My body felt heavy and my limbs were cement. I couldn’t seem to open my eyes.

What was my problem?

Then I remembered. The wall, Ravazzani, the needle. Shit! He drugged me. That asshole.

I concentrated on my breathing and willed the drugs out of my system. I needed to fight whatever was happening to me.

“Good. You are awake.”

I would have started if I’d been capable of moving my limbs. Was he spying on me while I slept? Just my luck to get kidnapped by a murderer and a creeper. Great.

I was on a mattress, the sheets crisp and cool beneath me. “You...kidnapped...me,” I forced out. “And...drugged me.”

Large fingers brushed the hair off my face. “I retrieved my son’s fiancée by any means necessary. Let that be a warning to you.”

A tiny shiver went through me. None of this made sense. Ravazzani could choose any woman to marry his son, and most would probably come willingly. “Why...me?”

“Don’t you know that you and your sisters are legendary? Your mother was very beautiful and famous. Tales of her daughters have been spread across the globe.”

I swallowed against a dry throat. My mother hadn’t wanted this for me, for any of her daughters. Have your own life, Frankie, and never give it up for any man.

I knew I looked like her. Everyone told me as much and I had seen enough of her modeling photos online to notice the resemblance. Still, that wasn’t a good enough reason for ruining my life.

Blinking, I finally pried open my lids. Ravazzani’s gorgeous face filled my vision, his lips twisted into a smug smile as if I amused him. As if my resistance was nothing but a joke. I held his gaze steadily. “I will never marry your son.”

The smile dropped instantly. “Never is a long time, Francesca, and don’t forget you are at my mercy. You’d be wise not to make an enemy of me.”

The threat rolled so easily off his tongue, and I didn’t doubt him for a single second. Even still, I would not bend. He could try to break me, try to force me into a marriage I didn’t want, but I would never stop resisting. “What will you do, threaten to shoot me? Torture me?”

“That depends on you, monella. Because if you refuse, I will consider the debt unsettled. I’ll be forced to retaliate against your family. Is this what you want?”

Brat.I knew that word, one I had been called before by Papà’s men. “You won’t hurt my sisters.”

A dark brown brow shot up. “No?”

We stared at each other, and I tried to see inside his head, to figure out if he was bluffing. I couldn’t tell. The man was too good at concealing his thoughts. But even if he promised not to hurt Emma and Gia, he might kill Papà. “What does your wife think of you kidnapping a woman to marry your son?”

“My wife died many years ago.”

A lump settled in my stomach. Had he killed her? Or had she been killed by a rival family? The mafia was violent and cruel, which was why my mother tried to protect us from it. “I’m sorry,” I murmured.

Avoiding my eye, he pushed to his feet and straightened his cuffs. “It was a long time ago. Giulio is my only son, which is why he will have the best wife, the daughter of the famous Sophia Romano Mancini. A woman to make all other men envious.”

“And if I won’t marry him?”

“Do not make me answer that, Francesca.” He strode to the door. “Two hours before we land. You should sleep.”

He had a lot to learn about kidnapping if he thought I could possibly sleep right now. “I need a bathroom and my satchel.”

“Through there,” he pointed to a small door in the rear of the bedroom. “I’ll have the hostess bring in a tray. I’m sure you are hungry.”

I wasn’t about to thank him, so I repeated, “And my satchel.”

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