Page 5 of Reign of Commotion

I do as he says and call out for Mr.Cassini.Calling him Alessio would be far too bold, and I’m not afraid to admit that he scares the bejesus out of me.

Alessio comes back in with Marco by his side.

“You’ve reached a decision?”Alessio asks.

“I request a marriage between Milana and myself,” Julian replies.

I hold my breath and wait for Alessio to speak.

“I’ll speak to Raffaele,” Alessio states.

Alessio faces me, his dark eyes as serious as the grave.“If he consents, you will not shameIl Destinoor Julian.Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir.I promise to be all you need me to be.”

“I’m not sure what your word is worth, and I pray that you’re not your father.”Alessio takes another look at Julian and sees he’s growing pale.“Marco, may I request a room for Julian to rest.”

Marco calls for his wife and asks her to set up a room.Alessio then says, “Milana, go look after your fiancé.”

I carefully assist Julian to his feet, and we slowly make it up the steps and into a guest room, where I help Julian to lie back and rest.I take off his shoes and jacket, then drape a blanket over him.I pull a chair closer and sit by his side.He reaches for my hand and holds it lightly.

“We’ll make this work,” he says before he closes his eyes.

THREE

Belonging

JULIAN

Imust have drifted off to sleep.Every muscle in my body aches, and my head hurts.I brace my hands to pull myself into a sitting position and feel the touch of someone holding my hand.I force my eyes open and see Milana asleep in a chair, her fingers entwined with mine.She must be uncomfortable, all twisted up as she is.

She looks haggard.I take a good look at my bride-to-be.Her long, dark hair partially covers her oval face.Milana has full, pouty lips and high cheekbones; even asleep, she’s a beauty.Her emerald eyes are mesmerizing, and I have seen for myself how they change with her mood, adding flecks of gold to the beautiful green.It has me imagining how her eyes would shine brilliantly when she comes.Milana is fit and her legs are toned, probably from standing on her feet and waitressing all day.She’s not tall, at least a head shorter than me.Her body has been blessed with tits and ass, a complete dream for a man like me.

The creak of the door opening diverts my attention.Gloria, Marco’s wife, comes in carrying a tray with several panini and what looks like soup.

“Stracciatella soup,” she says barely above a whisper.“You need to regain your strength.”She glances at Milana.“I knew her as a child.Her mother and I met several times after she was married.I never trusted her father, but Milana had always been a good girl.Her mother was just as beautiful before she married.That man destroyed them both.Milana was a sweet and dutiful young woman.For her sake, I hope that Raffaele agrees to give her to you.I know that men have a different way of looking at these things.”She let out a heavy breath before continuing.“I believe her, you know.”

“Believe her?”

“She didn’t know what her father was planning.She panicked and ran.Who’s to say I wouldn’t have done the same under those circumstances?”Gloria admits.

“Thank you for understanding,” I say.“Alessio is very persuasive.”I’m counting on Alessio to make the deal that will allow Milana to come back to Las Vegas with us.

Gloria places the tray on the empty side of the bed.I’m not willing to release Milana’s hand just yet and reach for the panino with my other hand, taking a bite.“Thank you.”Gloria sees our linked fingers and gives me a small smile.

“See if you can get her to eat.She needs to keep up her strength,” Gloria says before leaving.

* * *

Ifinish my sandwich before waking Milana.Her eyes flutter open, and she looks around in confusion, trying to figure out where she is.

“You need to eat,” I tell her.“Come sit next to me.”Milana moves and sits stiffly beside me with her back to the headboard with the tray between us.She reaches for the soup and takes a spoonful, then another.She finishes the soup, and I insist she eat half the sandwich Gloria made for her.“We don’t want to insult our hostess.”

“This might be my last meal,” she says sadly.She looks at the contents between the two slices of her ciabatta bun.“Prosciutto and bocconcini.My favorite.At least I’ll die full.”

“Alessio’s making the deal,” I remind her.

“Raffaele might not want to take the deal.I’ve heard stories about him.They say that of all the capos, he’s the most volatile.”

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