Page 63 of Maddest Temptation

“Won’t I?” he smiled.

“Y-you need me,” I croaked, and that’s when I realized he did need me, he was going to marry me off in a few months, he couldn’t simply shoot me.

Cassio might have changed his mind about forcing me back to my father’s house, but in the end, it wouldn’t matter, Donato would have what he wanted in the first place. Which was me.

He lowered the gun. “The next time I see you it will be at your wedding. Now get out of my face.”

I turned to leave knowing it was better to, at the door I stopped and turned around to face him again. Donato was heading back to his seat and threw the gun on the table.

“I don’t care what you do to me, as long as you die a painful and agonizing death.”

Without looking back, I left the room. My hands shook, and my cheek hurt from where he slapped me. I knew I was moments from having a panic attack. I had gambled with my life, and I could have lost.

I heard the crashing of glass against the wall and Donato was screaming. I choked on a sob and left the house, not stopping to talk to Umberto who had been waiting for me on the porch.

“Francesca.” Umberto grabbed my upper arm making me stop. He looked older, too. His forehead was filled with wrinkles and his once dark hair was now peppered with gray strands.

“I’m fine,” I said as my lungs fought to function.

He looked at me from head to toe and his gaze stopped on my cheek. Umberto had seen my father beat me countless times when I was young. He had tried to stop him once and he had been punished for it. I begged him to never try again.

“Let me take a look at it.” He tried to touch me, but I pulled away.

“I’m fine.” I tried to sound as though I were. Maybe if I said it a hundred times, I would truly be fine. “I need to leave, Umberto.”

“Let me take you?—”

“No,” I snapped and then took a deep breath. “No,” I said again, trying to conjure a smile. “Thank you, but I need to be alone right now,” I assured him.

Umberto walked me toward the gate, and I did my best not to lean into him and seek his comfort. When I was a kid, I used to dream that he was my father. He’d always treated me as a father should, with love and affection.

When the gates closed, I watched them for a while. Umberto remained on the other side looking at me. I knew he wanted to follow, but he had sworn an oath to my father and the Outfit. Not wanting to make things harder on him, I turned and began walking with no destination in mind.

Night had fallen, and the sun was no longer offering its warmth. The streets near Donato’s house were deserted.

The longer I walked, the quicker the scenes from tonight replayed in my head. My cheek was still burning, and I was pretty sure one of his rings had cut my skin. I didn’t dare check if I was bleeding.

Suddenly it all went black and all I saw was the barrel of a gun. My heart hit my ribcage beating painfully against it. No matter how deeply I inhaled, air wouldn’t fill my lungs. My body vibrated with pain. I fumbled with my phone and dialed the number that had been stuck in my head.

18

CASSIO

Isat at the table with the Ferraro brothers, Romeo Ferraro, Capo of the Cosa Nostra, sat directly before me while his brother, Apollo, sat before Vitelli. There was also another man with them, one everyone in the Mafia knew of—Nero “The Reaper” Albiatti. A beast of a man.

Romeo Ferraro looked at me with those disconcerting blue eyes of his. I had blood on my hands, but the Capo before me had his drenched in it. Story was, he had killed his own father and stabbed the man repeatedly to death. It was also rumored that he killed his first man at the age of nine in a church. That’s how he earned the name il Diavolo. The devil. Few men dared sit in a room with him; even fewer were courageous enough to do business with the Devil. I was one of those few.

Romeo Ferraro didn’t scare me. Neither did his brother Apollo who wouldn’t stop grinning from the moment we sat to dine. Now I understood why they called him the Joker. The fucker never seemed to do anything but smile. Not a sweet one or a happy one either. There was malice in it, something dark and twisted. Something even I didn’t want to discover.

Vitelli was right, maybe I was a mad man for doing business with the infamous brothers from New York, but desperate times called for desperate measures. On both sides, that was—Romeo was just as willing for a partnership with me as I was with him. We were different sides of the same coin. Two Capos doing what they must to keep their people and territory safe.

The only reason Romeo was here in Chicago doing business with me wasn’t because I was desperate. It was because despite his sociopathic tendencies, the man was loyal to his blood, especially his family. Something I could relate to. Respect even.

“Now that dinner is over,” I began.

“I would still like dessert. I heard the cannoli in this place is to die for,” Apollo Ferraro said with a grin. The man was much like my brother, which was aggravating to say the least.

“Apollo,” Romeo snapped.

---