Page 62 of Twisted Obsession

It wasn’t made obvious, but I caught the slight nod of Ricco’s head as he gave her permission, and the start of a smile pull at the corners of his mouth, which was his first mistake.

‘Yes… I would love to.’

I made a show of being a gentleman and helped pull her chair away, so she could leave the table with me. It was then they made their second mistake. Gerit made her way in front of me to Ricco and there, she draped herself over him. I took her in for the first time, light brown hair with possibly green eyes. The sort of woman I kept well away from because of their resemblance to Giovanna. Why the fuck I’d never noticed it before, I had no idea. With his eyes focussed on mine, he took her hand and kissed it, before turning it over and sucking her fingers into his mouth.

‘You taste fine,’ he purred like a fucking fool and showed me his truth.

They’d only been married about six months, but she wasn’t a wife taken in love, no. I could see it now. Instead, she was bait for me.

But for now, I would play his game.

As I reached the two of them, I grabbed her hand and pulled her off him until she was stood in front of me, before twirling her around for everyone to look at and then releasing her to move in front of me.

Cheers met my actions from the men he called his own. My own looked on expressionless, just how they’d been trained.

‘Two hours, Marco. Be ready to fly in two hours.’ I shouted my instructions back over my shoulder.

‘Boss.’ He let me know he’d heard.

‘Move,’ I ordered Gerit.

Reaching sideways, I picked up a bottle of the disgusting wine Ricco’s vineyard produced and with her now in front of me I smacked her arse hard, causing her to yelp.

‘Let’s start with the main bedroom, shall we?’

As she began to walk inside, I turned sideways to look at Ricco, and raised my eyebrows at him. At first, in his semi-inebriated state, he held up his glass in salute. After he’d looked at me for a little longer, I saw as the smile on his face began to dissolve, when he tried to read me and failed.

‘Inizio partitia.’(game on)I smacked my free hand down on his shoulder, before disappearing into his home, behind his wife.

Chapter Six

Giovanna

Looking at myself in the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time, I smoothed my hand down the long, light grey fitted skirt I was wearing. Then turning and looking over my shoulder, I made sure the green, sleeveless top I had paired it with was evenly tucked into the waistband, before adding the skirt’s matching wide belt.

Satisfied with my reflection, I moved closer to the mirror and scrutinised my make-up. The green top, it had to be said, made my eyes pop.

‘Perfect!’ I exclaimed to no one else but myself.

Slipping my feet into the heels that were the exact same colour as my blouse, I took one final look at myself. I had to be at least six-foot, with my height and choice of shoes. Something I knew my fiancé hated, but he wasn’t here, so I embraced it. Being tall gave me a sense of confidence, and I needed it knowing where we had dropped anchor. Even though I knew that later my feet would be so painful after walking over Malta’s cobbled streets and I’d be cursing my choice.

Gathering up the few bits I’d scattered over the double bed in my cabin, I hurriedly shoved them inside the overly large bag my mama had brought me in Santorini. If I went out without it,I knew without a doubt that she was liable to sulk the day away, and I didn’t need anything more to worry about.

It was the last week of June, and I couldn’t believe so much had happened in such a short space of time. Salvatore had given his permission for me to meet up with my mama, just as I knew he would. For one thing, I had enlisted Serafina’s help, and she was a formidable adversary even against her husband. She was in fact the one person I knew he truly listened to, even if he didn’t like what she was saying. Salvatore was a born leader, a true ‘Ndrangheta man, a product of his creation, but I had played on his weakness. His love for her and for me, his baby sister, and the guilt he carried with him for taking our papa’s life. It wasn’t something he would ever voice, but I was convinced I could see it in his eyes when he looked at me for just those few seconds too long.

When I was younger, I had always believed in romance and how fate played a huge part in giving you two paths to choose from. Of course, you were ultimately in charge of your own destiny, unless you were a Calabrian woman who rarely got to choose between A and B.

So, when the need arose, I’d had to invent a C and I felt no guilt about it. Once I’d got the answers to the questions I lived with daily, I would go back and live the life my family had planned for me, and I would accept a man I didn’t love and bare the children he needed, and I would do so willingly.

But until then, I was going to live by my own rules.

Surprisingly, in the space of three days after my call with Serafina and Mia, I had gained his permission, with Sera’s help had contacted my mama’s personal assistant, and met my mama and her assistant for lunch. Truthfully, and sadly, I didn’t find my mama any different, apart from the fact her mahogany hair was now dyed a honey blonde, although I wasn’t sure I would ever tell anyone that. I had hoped that her second marriage washappy enough to have blunted her hard edges, but in the two weeks I’d had her back in my life, and given the life experience I now had, I could see that she wasn’t a woman to be moulded by a man.

She was her own woman.

Which should have made me proud, but instead it worried me. My papa’s lies and dealings had been found out, but being back in her company, I was convinced she had to have known at least some of what he was doing, and that made me sick to my stomach. I had worked out quickly that while I could play the game in her company, curtailing to her ridiculous need to always be in full make-up and dressed in expensive clothing that was changed at least twice a day, I would never be able to create a bond with her. I’d pondered on that and had concluded that I had always understood that deep down, even though I didn’t want that to be the case. I supposed a small part of me would always have the hankering for the connection I’d watched for the last few years between Serafina, Mia and their mama, Rosa.

My mama’s husband, Peter, I had only met a few days before when he’d picked us up from Civitavecchia. He appeared to be smitten with her, worshipping her at every turn and admiring her several times a day in whatever outfit she paraded in front of him. Giving her endless extensions to the allowance he seemed to pay her and paying for each and every little thing that took her eye. He’d take up her hand and press it to his lips at every given opportunity, so much so that even the romantic in me was pushing two fingers to the back of her throat and trying to make herself sick. Even I had been surprised when, in one of our early conversations between the three of us, he had indicated they hadn’t seen each other for very nearly two months. Peter, for his own reasons, didn’t ever go to Rome, and she went there as often as she could, which I found strange. She was too old to bare more children and Peter’s first wife had given him two sons overthirty years before, and they would take over his business when the time came.

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