Page 11 of Dark Mafia Vows

It’s still 2 p.m., but the day has felt so long already. I’m sitting in Lorenzo’s living room, the heavy drapes of the curtain drawn tight against the world outside. The house feels like a fortress—solid and imposing, with its dark wood paneling and ornate furniture that seems to whisper of old wealth. I used to love Lorenzo’s house so much. It had a certain dark charm to it—the perfect mixture of old money and modern luxury.

Now, it feels like a gilded cage.

But living here now has made me realize how depressing the constant dark colors and minimalist decor makes me feel. It’s very different from my apartment, which was light and spacious, with colorful artworks hung on walls and plants in every corner.

God, I miss my house and plants. Lorenzo didn’t bring them, and tears spring in my eyes as I realize they must have withered by now.

I startle slightly at the sudden ring of the doorbell and the sound of the key code being entered. Wiping my tears harshly, I wonder why Lorenzo is back so early. I grab my phone again andpretend to be scrolling through messages when I hear the sound of his footsteps approaching.

“Sweet Pea?”

I turn, a little surprised to see Rinaldo walking towards me. He’s the only one who calls me that, a nickname I loathe but can’t escape.

“Hey,” I mutter as he gets to the sofa and leans in to press a kiss to my forehead.

Rinaldo visited me two days ago after he heard what happened. He didn’t stay long, claiming he had a very important meeting to attend. I wasn’t shocked, and honestly, I didn’t care. I was too shaken to care.

The plush sofa sinks under his weight as he sits beside me, gently cupping my face.

“Have you been crying?” he asks, his brow furrowing.

“No,” I lie, the word slipping out easily.

He observes my face for a few seconds before saying, “You’re lying.”

I sigh as his hand continues to cradle my face.

“Move in with me, Ginny...”

“Rinaldo—”

He leans in, pressing a kiss against my lips. I sigh again, and he takes advantage of that, his tongue slipping into my mouth. I respond eagerly, ignoring the way his tongue moves like he’s unsure of what he’s doing.

I run one hand through his blonde locks while the other holds his shoulder tightly. My fingers tug at his hair lightly as if I needed something physical to ground myself in reality.

“Slow down, Sweet Pea,” he murmurs against my lips, placing his two hands on my waist to keep us steady.

“I want this, Rinaldo,” I murmur against his lips, leaning towards him.

We don’t have sex very often. Rinaldo is always busy with work, so a large percentage of the times I spend the night at his place is spent with him playing video games or going straight to bed the moment he eats dinner. The few times we do have sex, it’s always a letdown. Rinaldo orgasms and goes right to sleep while I have to finish off with my hands.

I don’t miss Rinaldo himself; it’s the intimacy, the physical connection that I long for. The sensation of being touched, the pleasure of being truly satisfied, and the raw, exhilarating release of being thoroughly fucked—these are the things I’ve been without for too long.

In truth, they’re things I’ve rarely had the chance to experience.

I lean into him and begin pressing open-mouthed kisses against his neck.

“I need to forget everything, baby,” I murmur, throwing one leg over his waist until I’m straddling him on the sofa.

He grunts as I roll my hips against his erection. “Fuck, Sweet Pea.”

“Make me forget.”

Grabbing my face, he smashes his lips against mine. I feel the slightly awkward clash of tongue and teeth as his tongue swirls around inside of my mouth. Instead, I focus on the sensation of his hardness rubbing against my clothed clit as I rock against him.

He plants his hands on my waist, and I whine against his lips as he stands to his feet.

“Someone might walk in,” he leans back to give me a small smile.

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