Page 1 of Paying Dad's Italian Debt

Cosimo

“Please. I don’t know what you’re talking about. My dad doesn’t owe anyone any money…”

The young woman, who can only be Clara Eldrige, grips the iron railing of her balcony with a white knuckled grip, her chest rising and falling as she sucks in panicked breaths. I see her gaze, as green as emeralds, flicker down to the glock in my hand, and a wave of shame fills me like it never has before. I feel… I feel like a monster.

And all I want to do is take little Clara, delicate and frightened, into my arms. Even when he clearly wants to run away from me like her life depends on it, she’s ensnaring me in a spell she doesn’t even know she’s casting. Everything clicks into place in my mind, a puzzle coming together that I didn’t even know was messed up to begin with, and I know I’m fucked, because now, I’m hers, and she’s mine.

I’ve spent a large portion of my life being an asshole, fighting and even killing to get what is owed to me, that it’s a part of my very biology at this point. When Paul Eldridge, failed investment banker over in the United States, tried to disappear off the face of the earth after spending every dime of the two million I had loaned him, I knew that something had to be done to make him pay his debt to me. After a small bit of social media scrolling I had found out that his daughter was going to be, by some divine coincidence, in the same town as one of my residences this weekend, and it had seemed like the perfect opportunity to make that worm Paul crawl back out of the woodwork and open his wallet. Except… I had never expected the earthbound angel standing in the moonlight in front of me, the light of the heavens shimmering off her short blond curls and in her wide, fear-filled eyes.

“Calm down,” I tell her, holstering my gun and holding my empty hands up in front of me to show her that I don’t mean her any harm. “This doesn’t have to be difficult, Clara. If you behave, that is.”

“How do you know my name?” she almost sobs, shaking her head. “This is so messed up!”

“I’m a business associate of your fathers,” I tell her, and it’s not exactly a lie either, but I’m not about to tell her who I really am: Cosimo Giordano, second in command for the Giordano Clan of the ancient Camorra crime organization. “He’s gotten himself into a dangerous situation, and all I want is for him to settle up with me. No one has to get hurt.”

“Then why did you break in with a gun?” she demands. “I’ve had such an awful time in this city, and now this!? My dad isn’t even here!”

“I know,” I say carefully. She can never know I came armed with the purpose of kidnapping her, not with the intensity of emotion she’s creating in me, but that had been the plan at first. Daughters always have some sort of special hold over their fathers, and more often than not, kidnapping a daughter is a surefire way to get a repayment. Even if the poor, idiot father has to borrow from yet another criminal organization to pay me back. I don’t give a fuck where the money and interest comes from, as long as it ends up in my accounts. “I was hoping you could contact him for me and see why he isn’t paying me back. I’m willing to be kind, but my capo–”

“Your what?”

“My boss,” I clarify. “He isn’t as understanding or as patient as I am, so it would really benefit Mr. Eldridge to work with me if he wants this whole transaction to be as painless as possible.”

“How much does he owe?” she breathes.

“Two million,” I respond. “Plus interest, of course.”

She pales, shaking her head again. “That’s not possible. He can’t be in debt! He paid for my college, and this trip—Oh God,” she covers her mouth with her hand, “I told him I was traveling for school but I actually took the semester off…so my lie is what’s going to get him in trouble!”

I can see the tears welling up in her eyes as she works all of this out in her head, speaking it out loud as if she’s trying to convince herself of what she’s done. Naughty little thing, lying to get herself a trip to beautiful Naples, but I won’t hold that against her. Especially since it brought her right to my doorstep.

“We’ve still got options here, sweetheart,” I rumble, stepping closer. She presses herself against the railing like she’s trying to maintain the distance, but I think there is a hint of curiosity in her expression, too. I bet she’s never been this close to a man like me, and I’ll press that advantage if she gives me the chance. “All you have to do is listen to me, and trust me.”

“I don’t even know who you are.”

“Oh, but you will.” Clara swallows nervously at the huskiness in my tone, so I quickly add on, “Why don’t we introduce ourselves? I’m Cosimo.”

She licks her lips. “Well you already know my name, but I’m Clara.”

“It’s nice to formally meet you, Clara,” I’m close enough now to hold my hand out for her to shake, and after a second of hesitation, she takes it, her hand dwarfed by mine. Clara’s skin is so soft, but even that doesn’t distract me from the instant bolt of attraction that shoots through me when I first touch her, and from the widening of her eyes and her soft gasp, I’m sure she feels the same. On a whim, I bring her knuckles to my lips, kissing her hand and soaking in the warm coconut scent of her skin. She makes an airy noise when my lips make contact, and I have to shift my stance so she doesn’t notice how that noise has made me half hard already.

“N-nice to meet you too, Cosimo. I think,” Clara takes her hand out of mine as she speaks. “Are you sure you aren’t going to hurt me? It’s just… this sort of feels like some sort of hostage situation.”

She keeps looking at the gun in my holster and the long knife strapped right beside it. Poor girl has no idea that these are just two of the almost dozen weapons I’m carrying. “It’s not,” I assure her, silently adding, At least not yet. “But you have to do what I tell you, or things might get ugly, okay? Remember how I said that my capo isn’t as easy going as I am? Well, he’s not going to be happy that I’m giving your father this extra opportunity, so if you don’t follow my directions, I can’t keep you safe. Understand?”

Cautiously, she nods. Whatever is brewing between us is making her relax in my presence, which is a relief. I would have thrown her over my shoulder and taken her out of here like a caveman if she was resistant, but this way, I don’t have to piss her off immediately. Maybe she’ll even come to me of her own accord, if the way her expression softens by degrees every time she looks at me is any indication.

“Do you want to come in and I can make us some tea while you tell me everything I need to do?” Clara asks. She’s so brave, and although it seems bizarre for my kidnapping to transform into tea time, I’m not about to pass up time to be around her.

“Sure, sweetheart. Lead the way.”

I hadn’t looked at her rental villa when I had broken in earlier, but now that Clara flips the lights on and leads me to the kitchen, I can see that it’s just a run-of-the-mill property for tourists to rent out by the day. New, but cheap decorations and furniture, with plain white walls and kitschy Italian theming stretching through the whole place. It’s awfully big for just little Clara, though, and I wonder where the friend her social media mentioned was joining her on this trip could be. I don’t want someone walking in on us mid conversation and have to explain who I am all over again. I bristle at the thought. This is why I solve problems with my fists and not my words; it’s easier and cleaner in the long run. A punch in the teeth, or, when necessary, bullet in the brain, sends a crystal clear message.

Yet, as I watch Clara nervously move around the tiny kitchenette, warming up water in an electric kettle while glancing over at me constantly, makes me feel soft in a way I haven't in decades. I’m 39, closer to 40 than the other way around, and at this point in my life I was sure that love and a family weren’t something I even desired anymore. I like the decadent things in life; the perfect vintage of deep red wine, aged steaks cooked in the finest butter, and supple leather upholstery in my Porsche. Until minutes ago, I could have sworn that these were the things that made my life feel complete. It’s been years and years since a woman has caught my interest, and I’ve all but written them off, which also meant that any hope of having children was also long gone. My life is violence and blood, but one look at sweet Clara, and I wanted more.

When Clara had seen my hulking silhouette in her bedroom door frame, she had fled to the terrace where I had gotten my first good look at her in the moonlight. Slight, and almost ridiculously short, Clara has honey blond curls trimmed to just below her chin, jewel-green eyes framed with dark lashes, and a lovely bowed mouth with a full bottom lip. Clara Eldridge is breathtakingly feminine, and despite her short stature, her hips flare out in such a way that makes my mouth water, and she’s got the full tits to match. The second I was able to soak her in, I was seeing her in my mind's eye pregnant with my child, and I could almost feel her warm, supple skin on my palms. If it’s even possible, the idea of her being heavy with a child is even more enticing to me than the way she is now, all soft and ready for the taking.

It isn’t just lust I feel, either, watching her fill two ceramic mugs and dunk cinnamon tea bags into the steaming water. I want to fuck her, sure, but I also want to protect her, keep her in my home and under my watchful eye always. I want to pamper her and feed her the finest foods right from my fingers, wash her beautiful curves with expensive soaps and oils and carry her to a bed fitted with the silkiest sheets imaginable. With me, Clara will want for nothing. All I have to do is convince her that this thing between us is fate, as unavoidable as the tide.

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