Page 52 of Born into Mayhem
His hand has been lying possessively on my thigh since we left the airport, and when he gives me a soft squeeze, I nod my head and say, “It’s beautiful.”
He grins, and although his eyes are hidden behind his dark sunglasses, I know he’s pleased by my reaction. It’s important to himthat I love his country, and I’m still unsure what to think about that. A big part of me wants to believe that it’s not just because I currently hold the title of the woman who’s captured his attention, but a bigger part of me also fears that that’s exactly what this is. Dario acts like this is more, and if that’s true, then all this talk about possessing and owning are exactly what he plans to do to me. The only problem is I’m not so sure I’m capable of that. I’ll never be like Marissa, fawning and flirting and desperate for just a second of his attention. I’m not a pet, and I’ll certainly never be an obedient one.
We continue the drive in silence. His hand stays on my thigh, giving me light squeezes and caresses as we make our way along the Calabrian coast. I try not to look too wide-eyed, but the truth is I’m blown away by the beauty that surrounds us. We pass rolling cliffs and olive groves, villages that cling to the hillsides, and the never-ending view of the sparkling, vibrant blue water of the sea. If paradise exists, it looks just like this.
“You grew up here?” I ask, unable to keep my questions to myself.
“I did, yes, with Sandro, Dominic, and Isabella.”
His voice falters on Isabella’s name. I know the death of his cousin hit them all hard, and I can’t resist resting my hand on his and giving it a soft squeeze. He smiles over at me before I take another look at the sea and ask, “Did you ever get tired of seeing this, or did you constantly look around, wanting to pinch yourself to see if it was real?”
The corner of his mouth lifts up before he grabs my hand, pulling it to his mouth so he can kiss the back of it. “I don’t know about everyone else, but I never got tired of it. My loyalty is to my family, and I’ll go wherever Dominic sends me, but I’m not going to lie and say it was easy to leave Italy behind.”
Instead of putting his hand back on my leg, he brings my hand to his thigh, resting it there as he turns off the highway. Eventually we pull onto a narrow road that forces him to slow down as we wind our way up toward the cliffs. Olive trees surround us, but the view of the sea is never obstructed, and when we come to a wrought iron fence, Dario stops in front of the gate. I see two men, both dressed in blackwith pistols in thigh holsters. One lifts a radio and says something I can’t hear. He gives Dario a respectful nod right before the gate starts to open.
We ease onto the property, and when he turns the next corner, everything opens up and I get my first look at Dario’s childhood home.
“Jesus Christ,” I whisper, staring up at the three-story mansion in front of me. The pale limestone of the house is highlighted by the magenta color of the bougainvillea that grows in planters along the windows, spilling over in bright waves and joining with the jasmine that’s creeping up the trellises. There’s even a large fountain in the center of the circular drive, and I swear it feels like I’ve just stepped into a movie. My family has money, but it’s not the generational wealth of the Alessi family. Ours is stolen and earned in very illegal ways, and my dad and uncles grew up with nothing. Feeling even more self-conscious, I tap my green Converse against the floorboard and stare out my window.
“When will the others be here?” I ask, suddenly wishing my brother had ridden with us. Sasha never gets intimidated by anything. None of this will mean shit to him, and I could use some of that easy confidence right now.
“Soon.” Dario parks the car near the entrance, and I get a glimpse of several guards off in the distance. When I look back at the house, I see his parents come walking out. I’ve met Maria and Salvatore before, but I haven’t seen them in a while, and we’ve never actually sat around chatting. They love my sister and the kids, but that love never really extended to the rest of us. They had dreams of the don of the Alessi Mafia uniting with an old Italian family, and my sister blew that all to hell. Now they have to play nice and pretend they’re okay with their son doing the same thing.
“Your parents hate me,” I mutter.
“They do not,” Dario says. Before we step out of the car, he hooks a finger under my chin and turns me towards him. He’s taken off his sunglasses so I can see his eyes. “I will never allow anyone to treat you poorly, and that includes my own family. If anyone says or doesanything, you let me know,streghetta mia, and I’ll make sure it never happens again.”
“I don’t need your protection,” I can’t help but say.
“But you have it all the same,” he says. His mouth curls up in a small grin. “I forgot to tell you that I texted Tony last night. We had a very interesting conversation about VCH piercings.”
“You didn’t.”
His smile grows. “I did.”
“What did he say?”
I swear his eyes light up at my curiosity. “I’ll tell you later. It’ll give you something to look forward to.”
“Could you be any cockier? You make me want to tell you no just because I’m sure you’ve never heard it before.”
“I’ve heard it from you more than enough,” he says. Leaning closer, he gives me a soft kiss. “I look forward to occasionally hearing a yes.”
“Only occasionally?” I tease.
He kisses me again before saying, “I’d hate for you to make it too easy on me. You know I love it when you fight me.”
Before pulling away, he keeps his mouth near mine, letting me feel the heat of his breath as a similar warmth lights me up from the inside.
“I’m going to enjoy this more than I probably should,” he murmurs, each word making his lips lightly graze mine.
“Enjoy what?” I whisper.
“Telling everyone you’re my wife.”
“Dario,” I start to say, but he nips at my bottom lip, which manages to both distract me and shut me up.
“Let me have this,streghetta mia.” His finger grazes the length of my neck, leaving a wake of goosebumps and the beginning of a serious throb between my legs. “Just let me have this.”
