Page 91 of Mafia Kings: Dario

“So?”

“So you’re a bad enough driver as it is. I don’t want to die because you’re worse at driving than you are in bed.”

“You fucking asshole!” Valentino said, laughing out loud. “Who areyouto talk to me about pleasing my woman? The monk who hasn’t gotten laid in over a year – ”

“I could take over for you if you like,” Massimo suggested. “Then we’d see how loud your woman can scream.”

“Don’t eventhinkabout it, or I’ll kill you,” Valentino said, somewhere between joking and serious.

“If you don’t kill me with your driving first – stay in the right lane,rimbambito!”Massimo snapped, using a slang term fornumbnuts.

By the time we got to Florence, I was talking and joking with the two brothers like old friends.

We drove through the newer parts of the city, past dingy buildings from the last 70 years. Then we got to old Florence – the section that had stood for over six centuries.

Massimo guided the Mercedes through the maze of streets until we reached theVia dè Tornabuoni, the most famous street for shopping in all of Tuscany. It was the Florentine equivalent of Rodeo Drive in Los Angeles. Boutiques for Gucci, Balenciaga, Hermes, Prada, and Tiffany lined the streets.

“Oh my goodness,” I whispered as Massimo parked the car in front of the Versace store. “Isn’t there somewhere else you can take me – like H&M?”

Massimo snorted. “If I bring you back to Dario wearing H&M, he’ll castrate me.”

“Your balls are so small already, it’s no great loss,” Valentino joked.

“I’ll make sure he takes yours, too.”

“Hey – I actuallyusemine!”

I looked down at my dowdy dress. “But… I’m not dressed to go in there!”

“Yeah, butweare,” Massimo said, straightening the lapels of his expensive suit.

“Stick with us, Alessandra,” Valentino said with a wink and a smile. “We’lltakeyou places.”

The three of us walked into the store. Massimo and Valentino acted like they owned the place, whileIfelt like a peasant walking into a palace.

A very stylish woman about 10 years older than me walked over. “Good afternoon, gentlemen – how can I help you today?”

“Dress this woman beautifully and spare no expense,” Massimo said.

“Done,” the woman said with a smile. “And for you?”

“We’re fine.”

“You’re not wearing Versace, though,” she pointed out.

“No – Armani.”

“Well, I won’t hold it against you,” she said in an amused voice.

I was about to follow her when I made the mistake of looking at a price tag on a blouse.

It was 700 euros – about $750 US.

“We can’t buy anything from here!” I whispered in a panic to Massimo.

“Why not?” he asked, and looked around in surprise. “Too ugly?”

“No, it’s all beautiful – it’s just too expensive!”

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