Page 19 of Owned by the Italian Mafia Boss
He prods my mouth. “No, but you’ll have nutrients and be strong, which you’ll need for the things I have planned for you.” A promise of something dark drifts over his features. “So, open your mouth, Delilah.”
I shake my head, defying him.
“Eat three pieces of broccoli. That’s all I ask.”
“What do I get if I do?”
He leans back, sets his fork down, and wipes his mouth with a napkin. Pushing his plate to the side, he reaches into his back pocket, and an envelope appears. “We will go over this contract right now, Sweetling, and put your fears to rest.”
I tap the table with my fingernails and stare at the contract that holds the rest of my life in his hands. “I just have to eat the broccoli?”
He flashes an oddly endearing lop-sided grin, showing a hint of dimples. “That’s it. See? I compromise.”
I immediately pop three broccoli pieces in my mouth, now overflowing with nasty trees, and hold my breath while I chew.
Disgusting.
I swallow; one of the branches catches in my throat, and I cough to dislodge it.
The attempt doesn’t work.
I slap my chest, and green sprays from my mouth. Tears brim my eyes as I struggle for breath. A chair clatters to the floor, and hands pull me to my feet. Carmine wraps his arms around my waist, tucking my back against his chest to perform the Heimlich maneuver.
I’m gasping for breath, clawing at my throat, tears drip from my eyes, and my vision blurs. Carmine squeezes me so hard that pain seizes my ribs. Finally, I cough, sending broccoli chunks flying across the kitchen.
Strings of spit drip from my mouth as I struggle to breathe again. My nails dig into Carmine’s hand which is still pressed against my stomach.
I almost died from fucking broccoli.
“I have you. You’re okay. You’re safe.” He spins me around and buries my face in his chest as I cry in relief, the gasps still coming out loud and panicked. His fingers comb through my hair while he shushes me, crooning sweet nothings I can’t understand because I can’t focus on anything beyond my ragged breathing and burning chest.
Gently, he swings me into his arms and sits down on a nearby chair, so I’m curled up on his lap, cheek pressed to his shoulder.
Leaning away from me, his hands fall on either side of my face. “You scared the life out of me.” An hint of anger edges his tone. “If you don’t want to be treated like a child, don’t stuff three pieces of broccoli in your mouth at once, Delilah. I never want to experience fear like that again.” He wipes my mouth clean and brings water to my lips. “Slow,” he warns, fingers still slicing through my hair that’s long since fallen out of my bun.
I didn’t argue. The cold water soothes the rawness of my throat, easing the ache. Carmine takes the cup away from me, setting it next to the golden plate with my half-eaten dinner. Sagging against him, I shut my eyes and take a deep breath while he rubs my back.
The soothing circles are nice, and soon, I’m relaxed and breathing normally. I turn my head on his shoulder until my nose is pressing against the side of his neck, and I inhale the spicy scent of his expensive perfume. “Thank you,” I croak, my throat hoarse from that damn piece of broccoli.
“I said I wouldn’t let anything hurt you. Even wayward broccoli.”
I chuckle and lift my head, wanting to see the humor in his eyes, but there’s none. He’s serious.
“It was only broccoli,” I rasp. “I shouldn’t have put so much in my mouth. I was eager to get to the contract.”
His fingertips are under my chin, and he leans closer to me, irises as dark as a starless sky. “There will be plenty of times where your eagerness will be rewarded and your mouth will be full, but only when I say, okay, Sweetling?”
“There you go, speaking things you know nothing about.” I reach for the water again and take a sip, continuing to sit on his lap.
“I know enough.” He slides the envelope to me and taps the contract with his index finger. “Open it. You’ll find I’ve already signed it.”
“I think it’s best to look this over while I’m not in your lap.” I slide off his thighs and I’m surprised he lets me go. By the way his jaw clenches, he isn’t happy about it.
Still, I appreciate him giving me space to read this. I’ve seen many sides to Carmine Milazzo, depending on his mood, and I never know which side I’ll get.
Opening the letter with shaky hands, I take a deep breath, unfold the paper and read:
This contract is entered into by Carmine Milazzo (First Party) and Delilah June Reynolds (Second Party). The term of this agreement shall begin within one week of Ms. Delilah Reynolds staying in the Milazzo Estate and shall continue through the end of three years.
