Mafia Darling (The Kings of Italy Book 2)

Fausto was still in the shower and I was starving.

Being pregnant and fucking that man had really taken it out of me tonight. I slid on my robe and left our bedroom. There had to be leftover pasta somewhere in the fridge.

As I started down the stairs, I heard arguing from the other wing. It sounded like Gia and Emma. God, these two fighting was the last thing I needed right now. I hurried toward Emma’s bedroom and threw open the door.

They both started and spun toward me. The silence didn’t last, though, and they both began talking at once. Lifting my hand, I cut them off and hissed, “Will you keep it down?”

Emma blurted, “Frankie—”

“Keep quiet,” Gia ordered her sister.

I inhaled and let it out slowly. “What is going on with you two?”

“I have to talk to you,” Emma said, her expression troubled.

“About what? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Gia said.

“We saw what was down there,” Emma said.

Gia cursed, but I was still confused. “Down where?” What the hell were they talking about?

Gia shot Emma a look that could have withered the entire vineyard. “It’s no big deal, Frankie. We just had a quick look in the dungeon.”

My jaw fell open, my post-orgasm high evaporating. “What the fuck? I said you couldn’t go down there. How did you manage it?”

Emma folded her arms across her chest and glared at Gia, doing their twin mind-meld thing where they spoke silently to each other.

“We knew you didn’t want to go down there, and we didn’t want to push you.” Gia sat on the bed and shrugged. “So we just figured we’d ask Giulio to take us instead.”

“And he agreed?”

“Gia told Giulio that you said it was okay,” Emma said flatly.

“What the fuck? I can’t believe you would lie to him like that.”

“I’m sorry. Don’t be mad.”

“Too late. I’m beyond mad. I’m furious. They kill and torture people down there, Gia!”

“I know. We saw the blood.”

Oh, my God. No wonder why Emma looked upset. “Are you okay?” I asked her, studying her face carefully.

Instead of answering, she said, “I need to talk to you. Alone.”

“Gia, go away,” I said. “I’ll deal with you in a minute.”

“Okay.” Gia closed in to kiss my cheek. “Sorry, Frankie, I couldn’t resist. There aren’t any dungeons in Toronto, that’s for sure. At least none that I know of.”

I wasn’t swayed. Gia was definitely of the “act first, apologize later” variety, but she knew better. “That still doesn’t make it right.”

We waited for Gia to leave, then Emma put her hands on my shoulders. “You have to do something.”

“About what?”

“That man down there.”

I blinked at her. “Excuse me?”

She stepped away and began pacing. “He’s . . . really bad off, Frankie. I can’t believe he’s still alive. There’s blood everywhere. Sharp instruments and chains. Medical equipment. It’s like the movie Saw, but in real life.”

Was she kidding me right now? Was I seriously supposed to pity Enzo? “Emma, that is a bad man. I told you what he did to me. I have absolutely no sympathy for him whatsoever.”

“Come on. Don’t be like that. You aren’t one of these mafia types. You know what’s happening down there is wrong.”

Did I? I hadn’t lost a wink of sleep over Enzo’s fate since arriving back at the castello. I was more than content to let Fausto handle it as he saw fit. “Enzo’s a murderer, too, babe. Who knows what might have happened if Fausto didn’t rescue me? Enzo probably would have killed me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, sure. He would’ve just let me walk out the door in Naples. Think, Emma. If this man goes free, I’m at risk. Fausto is at risk. Giulio, Zia, everything and everyone here is at risk.”

Emma crossed her arms and hunched her shoulders. “Can’t they, like, negotiate a peace treaty or something?”

I wasn’t sure Enzo deserved peace of any kind.

I gentled my voice. “Remember how I said things were different here? This isn’t the United Nations. These men are brutal killers. It’s very old school.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I know. I just . . . I can’t stay here knowing that man is going to be killed at any moment.”

“Then why did you go down there? You knew what you were going to see.”

“Because I had to know. I’m telling you, I can’t celebrate your engagement and have a nice vacation here when a man is murdered right under my nose.”

I rubbed my forehead, the beginnings of a headache settling in my temples. “Emma, you’re being a pain in the ass.”

Her eyes went glassy and tears pooled. Oh, crap. I made her cry.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out as I dragged her into a hug. “Just send me home.”

“I’m not sending you home. You just got here.”

“But I can’t stay, Frankie. I can’t stay if they are going to kill him while I’m here.”

“What if . . . ?” I swallowed hard. “What if I could get them to hold off on dealing with Enzo until after you leave?” Fausto would need to agree, but I could convince him. Hopefully.

“Oh, please, Frankie. Please, talk to Fausto.”

“I’ll talk to him, okay? But I can’t make any promises.”

“Okay.” She hugged me back. “I’m sorry. I wish I was like you and Gia but—”

But she wasn’t.

“Don’t apologize,” I said.

“Thanks, Frankie.” She drew back and wiped her face. “Love you.”

“I love you, too. Let’s forget about this for right now and go downstairs for something to eat.”

When we left, a figure shifted from his position against the wall.

Fausto.

Damn it.

I plastered a smile on my face. “Hey, baby. What are you up to?”

He pushed off the wall and stalked forward. “I could ask you the same thing, but I’ve already been alerted by the men in the security room.”

Those blabbermouths. I touched my sister’s arm. “Go back to your room, Em. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay. Good night.”

Emma went back inside, but I didn’t look away from Fausto. I couldn’t decide if he was angry, annoyed, or merely bothered by the dungeon excursion. So I played dumb.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I licked his earlobe. “Want to come to the kitchen with me? I’ll feed you.”

“Why did my son take your sisters into my dungeon?”

Sighing, I let him go. We were doing this now, I guess. “I need to talk to you.”

Oh, the suspicion that coasted across his handsome face. “Is that so, amore? What about?”

“Can we go to our room first?”

“And why would we need to do that? Are you going to give me bad news?”

“No, of course not. But I don’t think this is a conversation you want to have in public.”

He leaned in to grab my hip, tugged me close, and put his mouth near my ear. “Get going right now, monella, before I spank your ass here in the hallway.”

Fausto

As I trailed my soon-to-be wife to our wing, I didn’t know what I was feeling. Angry, yes. But mostly I was very confused.

Lucia never would’ve dared allow her family into my dungeon. She wouldn’t have asked or even entertained the idea. Our world has clear boundaries and my first wife understood them perfectly.

Francesca didn’t seem to care or even be aware of those boundaries. Not only had she allowed her sisters to traipse into the dungeon, but she somehow also convinced my son to give a tour.

Ma che cazzo?

I would have words with Giulio tomorrow, but in the meantime I had to deal with Francesca. Just because we were getting married, this did not mean she had control of my men and my estate. I was the boss, not her, and she needed to concern herself with our children and home—not mafia business.

She would respect our boundaries.

I closed the bedroom door and watched as she sat on the bed. I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms. “Explain.”

She nibbled her lip and twisted her hands in her lap. “I can’t tell if you’re mad or not.”

I wasn’t certain, either. “Francesca.”

“My sisters wanted to see the dungeon. Giulio agreed to take them down. It’s not a big deal.”

The words confirmed what I thought, and I felt my chest heat in frustration. “It is a big deal, amore. A very big deal. This is not an amusement park or playground. This is a dangerous place with dangerous men. Bad things happen here. You understand, no?”

Her brows lowered. “Of course I understand. I’m not a child, Fausto. They asked and, frankly, I said no.”

“And how did that work out?”

I could see the guilt in her expression. It was a look I’d seen many times. She made a face. “They didn’t listen to me, apparently.”

I gestured with my hands. “See?”

“I guess I should’ve expected it,” she said with a tiny chuckle. “They are my sisters, after all. But they won’t ask to go down again.”

“And what happens when they ask for something else they shouldn’t?”

“What do you mean?” She tucked one long leg under her opposite knee, distracting me for a second with all her golden skin.

I focused on her face once more. “I need you to understand how this is going to work, dolcezza. You will be my wife, not the boss. You don’t order my men around and you don’t interfere in my business. Everything goes through me, whether it’s the estate, the ’ndrina, or my family.”

Her jaw fell open. “Are you kidding?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“I have no desire to interfere with your business, but you’re talking about our family. You really think I’m going to be that kind of wife, the one that shops and lunches and doesn’t ask questions? Don’t you know me at all?”

“Don’t you know me at all?” I countered. “Because if you do, then you must know I will not be managed, Francesca. I will not have my balls cut off by my wife.”

“I don’t want to cut off your balls. I happen to like them very much.”

I lifted a brow at her. “That’s good because they are staying exactly where they are, which means you answer to me. That is how this works.”

“That is not how this works, Fausto. This marriage will be a partnership. We will be equals. I respect you and you respect me. The end.”

I took a deep breath, struggling to remain cool and level-headed. “We are not equals. I make the decisions and accept the danger. If someone must die or go to jail, it will be me. This is to protect you and our children.”

“That is not protection; that is bullshit Italian misogyny. What happened to, ‘I am giving you nearly everything, Francesca,’ and ‘I can’t live without you, Francesca’?”

I ignored her terrible imitation of my accent, which sounded like an American pizza commercial. “You are not getting involved in my business. It is too dangerous. You will ignore whatever happens and allow me to handle things as I see fit. ”

“Ugh!” She grabbed a square pillow off the bed and threw it at me. I didn’t move as it bounced off me. She said, “I am not going to be a good little housewife, waiting for you at the end of every day with a cocktail and dinner on the table. If that is what you picture our marriage being like, you might as well take your ring back.”

“I wasn’t thinking that before,” I said with a sly smile, “but I am now. Will you do it naked?” I let my gaze travel the length of her. “Yes, I like that very much.”

“Stop it, you sex fiend. Do you want to marry me?”

“You know the answer to that question.”

“Then I have a request to make—and your answer will prove if you’re ready to treat me as an equal or not. Because I am telling you that this marriage will not survive if you think of me like an underling. I expect a partnership, Fausto. If you’re unwilling to give me one, then I don’t want to marry you.”

My muscles tightened. After all this time, after all I’d shared, she was still testing me? I snarled, “I don’t like ultimatums or threats.”

“I don’t want to threaten you any more than I want to be ordered around. But we have to straighten this out before we get married—if we get married. Are you ready to hear my request?” I gave her a single nod, too furious to elaborate, and she said, “I want you to promise me that Enzo won’t be killed while my sisters are here.”

I didn’t move. I didn’t even blink. It was like ice filled my veins, a calm washing over me. “You think to dictate Enzo’s future to me?”

“I am not dictating. I am asking. And it’s only temporary.”

“But if I do not agree, you won’t marry me.”

“This is what it means to be married. Compromise, even when you don’t like it. Giving in to your partner sometimes. If you are incapable of it, why on earth would I ever marry you?”

“I will not compromise when it comes to D’Agostino.”

“I’m not asking you to set him free. I’m just asking that, if you’re planning to kill him, to wait until my sisters go back to Toronto. Emma is traumatized at the idea of murder happening during her visit.”

My lip curled into a sneer. “I don’t care if she is traumatized. No one tells me how to deal with my enemies.”

“Again, I’m asking. But think very carefully before you answer, Fausto.”

Outrage and venom poured into my blood like a river, a torrent of resentment at the position she was putting me in. Enzo was near death and the instant I had what I needed from him, I wanted him dead. I didn’t want to give him extra time on this earth because Emma Mancini might get her feelings hurt. “I could force you to marry me,” I snarled.

“No, you can’t. I will never say the vows, not if I don’t believe you respect me.”

I stalked over to the bed. If she wanted to negotiate before our wedding, fine. I had a few things I’d like to ask for. “Stand up.”

She heard the steel in my voice and didn’t hesitate. Licking her lips, she slid off the bed and stood. Unafraid, she met my eyes and I knew I would give her this one thing.

I grabbed her hips and pulled her into my chest, my forehead resting on hers. She wrapped her arms around my neck, holding on while her breasts pressed against me. We stayed there a moment, breathing in one another, and the simple embrace soothed me, a balm on my stained soul. “I love you and I cannot live without you. If I must agree to this, then I will. For you. But don’t push me too far. We will be partners, no?”

“Grazie, baby.” She pressed a kiss to my jaw. “I am going to make you the very best wife. You won’t ever regret it.”

“And if I am compromising for you, then you will compromise in return for me.” I could feel her body stiffen in my hold, so I grabbed her tighter. “Wait until you hear what I am asking.”

“Fine.”

I held her face in my hands gently, like it was a precious gift. “You will give me at least three more children in addition to this one.” I tilted my chin toward her belly.

Her eyes went wide. “Kids? This is what you want in exchange?”

Then her eyes went unfocused, like she was thinking about it. Thinking about me shooting deep inside her, filling her up with my come to get her pregnant. When she bit her lip and swayed toward me a little, I knew I was right.

Madre di Dio, my woman was hot.

“Okay,” she whispered.

A flash of possessiveness whipped through me. Cazzo, I couldn’t wait to make more babies with her.

When she leaned back, I said, “Wait. I have one more compromise.”

“What?”

“You will marry me as quickly as possible. Tomorrow. I will allow your sisters to stay for the ceremony, but they must return to Toronto immediately after.”

She gasped, ripping out of my hold and moving away from me. “Fausto, no! They just got here. I’m not ready to let them go.”

“That is my final offer, Francesca. Every man in my command will question why I have not yet killed Enzo. It makes me look weak, capisce?”

“What if—?”

“No. I will not delay the inevitable any more than necessary. Every day he remains alive is a threat to me, to you. To everything I have built. You may see your sisters another time.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but I didn’t give in, even when those tears spilled over her lashes and tracked down her cheeks. She wiped her face. “I’ll miss them.”

I moved in and hugged her, smoothing my hands down her spine. “I know, dolcezza. I’ll make it up to you.”

The next morning, I went down into the dungeon alone. I wanted my enemy to see me in my wedding suit, see my happiness, and realize he would never have the same. He would never see his family again, never stand in the Italian sun. He would die soon at my hand, and I couldn’t fucking wait.

I considered this a wedding present to myself.

He cracked one swollen eye as I came in with a chair and sat down. Smoothing my tie, I took my time, letting him wonder why I was there. Marco, thanks to his training as a medic in the army, could keep a man barely alive, just enough to suffer, and Enzo was hovering on that line. He was thin and weak, a shell of that smug, smiling asshole who came onto my yacht and leered at my woman’s ass.

It was a beautiful sight.

“Buongiorno, D’Agostino.” I gave him my blandest smile. “Come stai?”

He said nothing, merely watched me, his breath rattling in his chest.

“Today is a good day. Would you like to know why?” When he didn’t answer, I jammed the toe of my dress shoe into his dislocated knee. He whimpered and I smiled wider. “Today is my wedding day. I will marry Francesca in a few hours out in the sunshine, surrounded by my family and friends. Then I will spend the rest of the night fucking her. You remember what that was like, no? Fucking your wife?”

His breathing picked up, but otherwise he didn’t react.

“Did you know she’s pregnant, my woman?”

That got a reaction from him. He blinked several times.

I folded my hands in my lap. “The entire time you had her in that trunk, when you shoved the gun in her mouth, she was carrying my child. A Ravazzani son or daughter.” I let that sink in. We both knew the importance of legacy and children. “Too bad you didn’t know,” I said with fake sympathy.

“Her sisters are here. Perhaps you met them last night? Francesca has asked me to keep you alive while her family is visiting. Remarkable, no? Even though you kidnapped her and scared her, my woman is kind enough to ask me to spare your miserable life for another few hours. So with every breath you take today you should thank her.”

I rose and moved the chair out of his cell, then returned and bent by his head. “But don’t worry, stronzo. When I’ve sent her sisters back to Toronto, I’ll come down and finish what I’ve started.” I lowered my voice. “And I promise you this: you will sign everything over to me before I kill you.”

Straightening, I turned and walked out of his cell. Over my shoulder, I called out, “Enjoy your last hours on Earth, D’Agostino.”