Page 62 of My Mafia Queen

The scenic view nudges me into a dream state, and I’m sure I’ve even snoozed a little before a noise abruptly wakes me.

I straighten and look at the door.

His footsteps trail the floors downstairs, and music plays soon after, putting a smile on my lips.

I pinch myself to convince myself this is real. Italian opera drifts through the air while the moon lingers on the window sills.

I’ve completely lost the notion of time, but it must be late.

Leaning back against the porcelain tub, I close my eyes and listen to the music before sensing a presence in the room.

Startled, I snap my eyes open, push upright, and gaze at the door.

Smiling, with his shoulder pressed into the doorframe, a glass of hard liquor in his hand, and his free hand tucked in his pocket, he silently observes me.

My mouth pulls slightly open, and then I freeze. I can’t tell what happens to me.

Why the foreboding sensation?

Why this unsettling feeling that he won’t be only some chapter in my life?

This is about more than us having sex, him being my first man, and us enjoying this unexpected vacation.

With the insanely beautiful moonlight cloaking his shoulders and his eyes glinting with lustful thoughts, he is a dream I won’t be able to wake up from. And he knows it.

He is my fate. The sacrifice I need to make. The change I have to go through. A once in a lifetime encounter.

Even if I can find the strength to pull away from him, there won’t be anyone like him again.

That thought puts things in perspective.

We can make this as dirty or wholesome as we want. It doesn’t matter what we do or want or think.

No matter what we do, we won’t be able to steer away from one another.

* * *

DAMASO

Her dark hairis draped over her back, her luscious breasts peeking from above the water, her lips ripe for kisses, her eyes twinkling like stars.

Something has stopped her in her tracks. Whatever she wanted to tell me is no longer relevant.

She looks at me transfixed, her eyes alight, her face beaming with wonder, her thoughts mirroring mine.

I know that look. Deep down inside, I know what it means. I never thought I’d see it again.

And now, looking back, I see how fate did me a solid. I would’ve never run into a woman like her if fate didn’t play a role in our story.

I bring my drink to my lips and take a swig.

The alcohol hits my bloodstream, spreading warmth through my body.

“Come to me,” I say, pushing off the doorframe and sliding my glass onto the vanity.

She slips into a trance while climbing out of the tub, her eyes connected to mine. Water drips to the floor as she emerges naked. Beautiful. And mine.

I turn my back to the wall of mirrors, prop my rear against the vanity, and cross my arms over my chest, beckoning her to me with a crooked finger and a playful smile.

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