Page 35 of Captured Fantasy

“No, I just don’t think I need a financial guardian,” I said, shaking my hair back. His gaze flicked down to the V of my neckline and then locked back on my face. I could see how hard he was struggling to control it, to be a gentleman and show some respect for my body. A small rebellious part of me wondered what he would be like if he weren’t so restrained and polite.

I knew he was wild, I could just see it behind his eyes. A part of me longed to see what he was like unbound. Drunk, high, fucking with abandon, running through empty streets, unloading the magazine of his gun with fire in his eyes. He probably tasted like blood and steel and heat beneath the perfect suit that domesticated him.

“Well, I can’t comment on some of our more…traditional underbosses,” Cosimo said. “Are you sure you’re alright, Mrs. Russo?”

“Of course,” I said, swallowing. There was a painfully raw heartbeat between my thighs and in my chest. “Anyway, what do you do for the outfit?”

“Oh, a bit of this and that,” he said. “Mainly I’m in charge of imports and exports and then I keep a handle on some of my father’s territories. He doesn’t do a lot of hands-on work anymore so I’ve picked up the slack.”

“Organized crime is young men’s work,” I said.

He spun me once as the music ended and we both clapped politely. For a long, awkward moment, we just looked at each other. Then a hand settled on my back. It moved lower, just brushing my ass, and I turned to meet Federico’s agitated stare.

“I’ll take over from here,” he said.

For a moment, the two men stood facing each other, their faces hard and their jaws set. Then Cosimo stepped back, disappearing into the crowd, leaving me with the acrid taste of disappointment on my tongue.

I kept quiet as Federico danced with me. Lucien appeared for the next waltz. He was distant and cold, as though he barely knew me. I wasn’t sure if he was just trying to place some distance between us while in public or if he was annoyed with something I’d done.

Cosimo stood on the porch smoking when Lucien and I left at the end of the night. The air was sticky and the sudden rain had done little to cool it off. I felt Cosimo’s eyes on me from where he stood on the porch, cigarette in hand and his jacket slung over his shoulder. But I didn’t look back as I got into the Tesla and Lucien pulled out into the dark, wet street.

“An interesting night,” said Lucien lightly.

“It went well, I think,” I said.

“Do you know Cosimo Barone, Enza?” There was a slight edge to his voice that I didn’t like, but I refused to show my discomfort.

“Not really. I’ve spoken to him a few times, but that’s all.” I hoped he couldn’t hear the lie in my voice.

“He seemed enchanted with you.”

“No, he didn’t.”

Lucien’s jaw twitched. “Don’t contradict me, please.”

“I wasn’t trying to be rude, I was just being honest.”

“Watch your mouth next time.”

Our conversation ended, short and soured. I kept quiet as we drove on through the night, the windshield spattered with rain and the light orange streaks across my vision. Quiet and obedience was something I understood, a safe place where I knew I wouldn’t be hurt. But it was beginning to wear on me and the rebellious part of me wanted to break free of it.

CHAPTER TEN

LORENZA

A few weeks after the school benefit I woke to heavy knocking on my door. Groaning under my breath, I padded down the dark hallway and descended the stairs. It was probably Lucien or Federico. I hoped it was Federico because Lucien usually sought companionship over sexual favors. His needs were more complex and they took longer to fulfil. He wanted a home cooked meal, a listening ear, and someone to hold. Federico, on the other hand, was satisfied with a hasty fuck over kitchen counter while his espresso brewed.

It was Amadeo who stood on the other side of the door. He was drenched and his eyes were red, his t-shirt soaked to the skin. My stomach turned as I met his gaze, knowing immediately that something was very wrong. My throat closed and I struggled to speak as I stepped aside to let him into the hallway.

“Amadeo, what are you doing here?” I whispered.

“Fuck, Enza, I’m so sorry,” he gasped. “I—I’m supposed to be at the store getting cigarettes for Carolina’s father, but I came here instead.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” My voice sounded shrill.

He swallowed, his throat bobbing. There was raw, ugly pain in his eyes.

“Carolina’s sick, she’s dying. They gave her six fucking months.”

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