Page 48 of Mafia Virgin (The Kings of Italy)

I stared at the worn kitchen tile and thought about Emma. I couldn’t have her looking through my things, causing trouble. I needed her to do as she was told. I needed her docile, placated. Willing to get knocked up and disappear back to Canada. Out of my life.

All that mattered was keeping Viv safe.

My eyes swung toward the doorway leading to the main stairs. She was up there. Emma. Mywife. Her unused pussy was just waiting for me to show it some attention.

Blood rushed to my groin. It was fucked up, getting hard at the idea of taking a woman so young.

First. I can be first.

Dio mio, I had to stop thinking like that. It wasn’t helpful. This wasn’t about my issues. This was about ensuring that she followed my orders. That she stayed out of my room.

Fuck it.

I finished my water and placed the empty bottle on the counter. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Don Buscetta,” he called when I’d almost left the room.

I paused, but didn’t turn around. He almost never called me by my honorific. He knew I hated it because it reminded me of my father.

He continued, “Be gentle with her. Ha un gran cuore, sai?”She has a big heart, you know?

I cast him a harsh glare over my shoulder. “You insult me by insinuating that I would do otherwise. Don’t forget your place, old man.”

“I would fail you both if I said nothing.” He lifted his chin, not insulted by my response in the least. “She has no one here, no father or family member to speak up for her, so I must do it.”

Once upon a time Sal was a tough soldier. What had happened to make him so soft? “Don’t get too attached. She will return to Toronto soon.”

“Don’t be so sure, ragazzo. Fate has a funny way of giving us what we need when we least expect it.”

I sighed and rubbed my face. Emma was not what I needed. Not now, not ever. “I will punch you in your good eye, if you do not shut up.”

I didn’t give him the chance to offer up any more sage advice. I walked through the dark house and went upstairs.

Usually, I would turn toward my wing. Tonight I went the opposite direction.

I strode along my father’s side of the house, the end with terrible memories. The fights, the hitting. My mother’s screams. It hadn’t bothered Nino, but I moved into the empty wing when I was five. And when Mamma died I took Viviana out of here and stashed her in the room beside mine.

It gave me a perverse sense of pleasure that Emma took my father’s bedroom as her own. Not even Nino, the golden child, had dared to do so. A small smile twisted my lips. My father would’ve hated knowing that a Mancini, an ’Ndrangheta family member, was staying in his room.

I reached the door. I could knock, but what was the point? She wouldn’t refuse me entrance, and she’d already invaded my personal space today. Wasn’t it only fair to return the favor?

I twisted the knob and threw open the door. Emma was on the bed, under the covers, with her hair in a messy knot atop her head. She wore no makeup and was scrolling on her phone, a pair of eyeglasses on her face. She looked sexy and smart, like a young librarian.

At the sight of me, her eyes rounded and she jerked the covers up to her chin. “Giacomo! What the heck?”

Emma rarely cursed, I’d noticed. It made me want to dirty her up even more.

I closed the door and folded my arms. “You were busy today, no?”

Her slim throat worked as she swallowed. “He told you.” At my nod, she hurried to explain. “It was wrong and I’m sorry. I was just curious about you and couldn’t help myself. Really, I’m very sorry.”

“What were you hoping to learn? What brand of briefs I wear?”

“No, of course not. Though your folding skills are impressive. My drawers aren’t half as neat as yours.”

“Emma,” I snapped. “Why the fuck were you in my room?”

“I wanted to learn more about you and your life, like artwork or photos. What colors you like, what kind of toothpaste you use. I literally know nothing about you.”

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