Page 75 of Dirty Mafia King
I was ordered to plan a wedding.
To. His.Son.
Like a lamb to slaughter, he’s keeping me well-fed.
The instructor clears his throat. “How about we give Mrs. Beneventi another turn?”
I lock eyes with Zoey, and stifle another laugh.
“Mrs. Beneventi?” She slaps a hand on her thigh. “Let’s first make it through this game before Alessia marches down the aisle.”
“I apologize, Alessia.” He looks at my left hand and my bare ring finger. “I assumed, based on Mr. Beneventi’s phone call—”
“Wait,” Zoey screeches. “You spoke to Mr. Beneventi himself?”
“Early this morning.”
“Sebastiano Beneventi?”
“Yes.”
Warmth spreads through me. I’m on his mind?
“Can you believe it?” Zoey demands. “He arranged this lesson himself.”
I haven’t told her about my new study. I don’t know why I’ve kept this from her. Is it because I’d rather not listen to her harsh warnings about him? Is it because I prefer to linger inside this dreamy bubble I’ve created, where he’s drawn to me as much as I am to him?
Zoey narrows her eyes at me, sensing I haven’t told her everything. “Why would he do that?”
I shrug. “Maybe he’s compensating for Sandro’s absence?”
“I don’t think that’s it at all.”
My pulse races, yet I resist asking her what she means. Instead, I approach the green and set a golf ball in place.
“For dinner, I’m preparing the lamb ricotta dish. So maybe Bastian’s simply reciprocating the favor?” I grin, excited to watch him savor every mouthful like he did at the engagement party.
Our instructor comes up behind me, then taps my right hip. “Swing from here.”
“Got it.”
His arms wrap around my body, and he straightens my arms. “Hold up. Let me get that club off the green.”
He hurries away to retrieve Zoey’s club.
“It’s weird that you’re cooking his dinners. And far too domestic—with his money, he could hire a Michelin-rated chef.”
I sigh. “I love cooking…”For him. Only because he appreciates my efforts. Only because it gives me something to do. No other reason. “Why do you think he personally hired a golf instructor?” I try to ask my question casually, but curiosity has the words rushing from my lips.
She stalks up beside me. “Fucking hell, but I believe you’ve caught his attention.”
“Really?”
“Ugh, Alessia. You sound excited. Trust me, he’s the last man you should want arranging your golf lessons. Everything comes at a price, understand?”
“He’s my soon-to-be father-in-law.”
“Let me ask you this—why aren’t you in New York with Sandro?”
