Page 138 of Empire of Temptation

Unfortunately, despite multiple requests, the testa di cazzo—Palmieri—refused to charge me or let me speak with a lawyer. I was stuck here.

The branzino was cooked to perfection, broiled and flaky, melting on my tongue. I casually watched a streaming show on my tablet as I ate, some reality nonsense that reminded me of Valentina and her terrible taste in entertainment.

Mafia Island. I snickered despite myself. She had a sense of humor, a playfulness long missing from my life, and I missed the random nonsense that came out of her mouth. Did she miss me? Or was she still angry at the way we parted?

Maybe I would ring Roberto tomorrow and ask.

Before I could finish the buttery branzino, the guard was back. “Don Benetti, a guest to see you.”

Sergio had been here earlier. Was it one of my other brothers? “Who?”

“A woman.”

Was it Chiara or one of the boys’ mothers? “Did she give a name?”

“Valentina DiMarco.”

The air left my lungs in a rush. The last name was fake, but a clear identifier. Valentina was in Italia. Here,at this prison.

What the fuck?

My chest squeezed as disbelief and indecision strangled me like a vise, and my eyes went unfocused. Gabriele and Roberto should have known better than to let her leave New York. If the GDF realized her identity, she was at risk. Palmieri would use Valentina to get to her father, exactly as he’d planned from the start, and all my efforts to keep her out of this mess would be in vain. “Tell her no.”

“Perdonami, Don Benetti,” he said, pulling on the collar of his uniform. “But she warned us you might refuse her. She said to tell you she won’t leave until you talk to her.”

Stubborn woman. It wasn’t safe for her to hang about at a men’s prison. She didn’t speak the language and these were dangerous men. I was going to strangle my second born for this. He was supposed to be watching over her.

Carefully, I wiped my mouth with the napkin and set it on the table. After I pushed to my feet, I slipped my arms into the jumpsuit I was required to wear. Even though I wasn’t a typical prisoner, appearances must be maintained in the public spaces.

The guard led me through the corridors, past other cells not nearly as fancy as mine. Curious stares followed me as I walked past, with some inmates dipping their chin in deference, but I didn’t speak to any of them. The rage burning my skin wouldn’t allow me to focus on anything else than the woman in the visitor’s room. Valentina had much to answer for.

He unlocked the visitor room and opened the door for me. The space was empty, save one person, and my entire body jolted at the sight of her. I rocked back on my heels, but schooled my features carefully.

Fuck. Me.

She was gorgeous, even more beautiful than my memories. In person she sparkled with some indefinable quality that could never be drawn or photographed; it was a vibrance that burned bright and drew me to her. My anger withered, and in its place was a longing sofierce that I wanted to howl at the unfairness of everything keeping me away from her.

My fingers itched with the need to touch her. I craved her mouth, her sighs. The way she curled into me and rubbed her tits against my chest. Her soft skin and coconut-scented hair.

But I couldn’t have any of that.

I didn’t know if we were being observed or not. As a precaution, I couldn’t give them any idea of how much this woman meant to me. I couldn’t let her become a target.

“You asshole,” she started when I didn’t move or speak.

I cocked my head and gave her a bland look. “Do I know you?”

Her lips parted as her brows flew up. “Really, Luca? Is that how you’re going to play this?”

Rubbing my jaw, I pretended to think. “Allora, are you the woman from that club in New York City? The one who gave me a blow job in the men’s toilet?”

The air in the room turned frosty, like a negotiation gone bad. “No,” she said, the single word dripping with snark. “I’m the one who gave you the blow job in your car.”

As if I could ever forget.

My smile was part grin, part leer. “Ah, va bene. That was nice, no? I’ve been bragging of your skills to the other prisoners.”

I could see her thinking, wondering what was happening and why I was acting this way. But I couldn’t let up—I needed her to leave.

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