Page 10 of A Beautiful Crime

And if I don’t feel like smiling I’m not going to fucking smile.

But to appease my fratello I bare my teeth at him with a grin that is more beastly than demure.

He grunts, the awful sound most pleasant to my ears.

Perhaps I’m a bit sadistic myself to take such satisfaction in my brother’s frustration with me.

I may be complying with his and papa’s demands but under no circumstances does that mean I have to become a docile woman.

They may order me around like a dog but they confuse me for the wrong type of bitch.

I value my life, yes, but I also demand the same amount of respect as every other man in The Fiore Famiglia.

His blue eyes harden to ice. “Must I remind you again, within the span of ten minutes, what will happen if you don’t succeed tonight?”

“I know what is expected of me tonight, Luca,” I say in a bored tone, tired of his constant reminders. I’m not a densewoman, if I was papa would have found a way to have gotten rid of me long ago. The fact that my brother treats me as such is both disrespectful and degrading.

“Eccellente.” He surveys the crowd around us and politely nods his head to one of the state judges of New York. Charles Huntington, a man in his late sixties with a rounded stomach and a full face that shows his gluttony proudly. His grey hair is thinning but he’s too proud to admit it. It is combed evenly to hide the balding spots that he can’t help from surfacing. He nods back at Luca subtly and with a hint of smile in his moss green eyes.

Charles Huntington, a respectable and honorable Judge of New York is affiliated with the Italian Mob. Specifically, his allegiance lies with The Donati Famiglia.

He has spent an abundance of money for erasing his past where his father had served for Stefano Donati.

Stefano Donati was The Don of The Donati Famiglia, papa of Constantine Donati, and when he passed away ten years ago Constantine took his place as Don at the ripe age of twenty-eight.

It was unheard of at the time for a man of that age to lead an entire organization. Many had thought with him as the new Don The Donati Famiglia would slowly die. That Constantine would run his papa’s organization to the ground.

I know my papa was one of the people who secretly wished for his failure.

As did many others.

With the fall of The Donati Famiglia it would mean a new family would rise.

They all had hoped for it. And in the beginning of his reign he had multiple assassination attempts. All of which had failed miserably and led to countless deaths.

For his dashing good looks, charming smile and captivating eyes he is also merciless, deceiving and barbarous.

Any Made Man is but Constantine Donati is something else entirely.

I don’t believe a man like him had to experience a rebirth. No, a man like him was born that way. Which only makes him a thousand times more dangerous than his reputation perceives him to be.

Why else would they call him The Devil?

My brother takes a flute of champagne from the waiter who passes us by. He doesn’t even have the decency to snare one for myself.

The alcohol would be welcoming for what lies ahead of me this evening.

“A true gentleman serves a lady before he serves himself,” the haunting yet beautiful deep and rich voice that carries an Italian accent says from behind us. I watch as my brother plasters a charming smile on his face that is a tad too wide to be natural.

I then, too, turn around to the man or rather Devil, who will decide if he will take my hand in marriage that my papa offered.

I should have prepared myself before I had turned.

Because seeing him up close, taking his beauty in with fresh clear eyes has the breath stuck in my throat.

His eyes, the shade of long aged whisky spent in a wooden barrel are rich and strong. They’re intoxicating and if you stare too long you’ll become inebriated.

I blink slowly as I swallow due to my mouth having gone dry.

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