Page 45 of Mafia Virgin (The Kings of Italy)

“Sì, signora. He is very particular that way. I have tried, but he says I can’t do it correctly.”

“Why doesn’t he have any suits?”

Sal’s laugh was dry. “This boy, I have never seen him wear a suit in his entire life. I think he’d rather take a punch to the mouth than wear a tie.”

“I thought a don needed to look professional. Like a businessman.”

Sal reached the bottom of the stairs and looked up at me. “Don Buscetta does not care what others do or say. He answers only to himself.”

He limped away, leaving me to think over these words.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

Giacomo

The phone rang in the car. Zani and I both looked at the display.

Theresa.

Pushing a button, I declined the call and kept driving.

“Let me guess?” Zani said. “You haven’t told her.”

“She is a fuck buddy. I owe her no explanations.”

And I had bigger problems than Theresa.

Since my conversation with Emma yesterday morning about her pills, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Specifically, I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking her, taking her virginity. Pumping her small body full of its first dose of come. I wanted to dirty her up. Be the one to turn her into a filthy girl.

In my entire life I couldn’t remember being first for anything. Nino got everything growing up—my father’s attention and respect, then girls, cars, money. Everything had been given to my brother with nothing left over for me. I’d fought hard for scraps merely to survive.

But Emma Mancini? She was mine, no one else’s. She hadn’t fucked my brother or any other man. I would be her first.

She would also be the first woman I fucked raw. The first woman to carry my child.

There was something primal about it that appealed to me. My father said I was barbaric and unsophisticated, and maybe this proved him right. I didn’t care. All I knew was that I couldn’t wait to stick my dick inside her sweet, tightvirginpussy.

Beside me, Zani wouldn’t drop it. “You have no idea how to handle women, Mo.”

“Neither do you, coglione.”

He chuckled. “Dai, I get five times the pussy you do.”

I took a corner and turned into the gravel lot of our destination. “I have a wife. That is the only woman I am concerned with at the moment.”

“And how is that going? Did she stop taking her pills yesterday?”

“I assume so. I didn’t check.”

“Don’t you think you should?” When I didn’t say anything, Zani shook his head, like a teacher disappointed in his student. “Your wife has a mind of her own. In my experience, the only way to make a woman like that do what you want is by making her come. Eat her out a few times and she’s like putty in your hands. You’d be surprised how many men don’t do it right.”

I pulled behind the abandoned building and shut off the car. “I don’t need your advice to deal with her.”

Zani must’ve realized I was serious, because he said nothing more as we got out of the car. I started toward the back door. This was one of the many secluded places we used from time to time to work someone over. It would give me a chance to expel some of the frustration coiled in my muscles.

We went in and found a man hanging by his wrists on a hook. He was limp, unconscious, and from the blood on his clothes it looked like he’d struggled before my men got him subdued.

A hammer, pliers, and gardening shears rested on a table in the middle of the room.

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