Francesca sparkled at dinner. Rarely had I seen her so animated, so happy, and I liked seeing her like this. As we ate, she entertained us all with tales of growing up, as well as her adventures so far in Italy—cleaned up, of course. Her sisters didn’t know about the kidnapping, and I wondered if she would ever tell them what happened.
“The gelato in Rome was the best I’ve ever had,” she was telling them.
“You certainly sampled enough of it,” my son said with a grin, which caused Francesca to pick up a roll and fake throwing it at him.
Zia playfully reprimanded them both in Italian, which made everyone laugh.
I was quiet, observing. The dining room was lively and full, something I hadn’t experienced in a long time. It was nice. If I had a big family like Marco’s, every dinner would resemble chaos such as this.
My eyes flicked to Francesca, seated at my right. She would bear my child next spring, and I could hardly wait. I wanted as many children as she would agree to. An only child myself, I hadn’t planned for Giulio to be alone, so I was thrilled at the prospect of more Ravazzani sons and daughters running around the castello. Hopefully I lived long enough—and stayed out of prison—to see it.
The Guardia had gone quiet after approaching Francesca. As we suspected, Rinaldo was no one, probably hoping to make a name for herself before retirement. This didn’t mean the government wasn’t working on a case against me, though. Except the case must not have been very strong if they were foolish enough to try to turn Francesca.
A bare foot slid over my shin and I tried to mask my surprise. My muscles clenched as I fought to stay still, not wanting to frighten her. If my dolcezza wanted to play, then I was more than ready.
Francesca leaned closer, her voice low. “Can I take my sisters to Rome? We could stay at your fuck pad.”
“It could be your fuck pad, too, if you would put on the ring.”
She bit her lip and slid her foot higher, teasing me with her toes. Sparks raced over my skin. “That doesn’t answer my question,” she said.
“Where is your foot going, piccolina?”
“Where would you like it to go?”
“My answer depends on if you are still angry with me or not.”
She threw her head back and laughed, the sight causing my stomach to dip like a gull at the beach. Madonna, I loved her. I always wanted her this happy. I should have threatened her father weeks ago to get Emma and Gia on my plane. Instead, I had waited until yesterday. Lesson learned.
I shoved my leg closer to hers, desperate for more contact. Desperate for her to forgive me. While I understood the reasons for it, I hated that she didn’t trust me. I would wear her down, though. It had already started, in fact. A few days ago she wouldn’t have rubbed me with her toes and smiled at me. I had to be satisfied with whatever little progress I made each day.
Eventually I would have all of her.
“No trips to Rome,” I told her. “Part of my agreement with your father was that the girls would stay here, nowhere else.”
“Damn.” She pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “How did you manage it? I can’t believe he agreed.”
I had plenty of material on Robert Mancini that he would much prefer to keep private. Not to mention I could cut off his income with a snap of my fingers. I think that threat scared him more than any public embarrassment over his drug and escort service habits. Tracing a fingertip over the fine bones in her wrist, I said, “I can be very persuasive. Or have you forgotten?”
Goosebumps traveled over her skin and I wanted to lick them, bite them. She whispered, “I prefer to call it bossy.”
“A consequence of being the boss,” I murmured, fascinated by the shape of her lips. I missed kissing her. The feel and taste of her mouth lingered all day after our kiss in the hall, the memory thickening my cock at the most inappropriate times today.
“They want to go clubbing tonight.”
Fear and irritation tightened behind my shoulder blades. “Absolutely fucking not, Francesca.”
“Calm down. I already told them no.”
I relaxed slightly. I would need to watch these Mancini sisters, especially Gia. A troublemaker if I’d ever seen one. She had been eye-fucking every one of my guards under the age of thirty all day. I didn’t want her upsetting Francesca.
“Papà,” Giulio said. “Emma and Gia would like to see the nightlife in Siderno. I could take them.”
“No.” I wouldn’t allow Francesca to go, and I didn’t trust the sisters out at a club.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Francesca told Giulio with a wink. “Let the girls have at least one good night’s rest first.”
I tensed, ready to argue, but then I felt her foot wrap around the back of my calf, and it stroked back and forth over my trousers. That simple contact mesmerized me, and I wondered if I could get her to move higher. My cock was so desperate for attention from her.
Her intention could not be more obvious, however.
“I know what you are doing,” I said quietly. “It won’t work.”
“We’ll see,” she said with a teasing smile that caused my mouth to dry out.
Hmm. Perhaps she was right. I would agree to almost anything if she would get on her knees for me just one more time.
Soon.
If we were alone, I would pull her onto my lap and kiss her until she begged me to make her come.
“Too bad you didn’t have your phone with you when you were vacationing in Naples,” Gia said to Francesca. “I wanted to see pictures. Did you go to the catacombs or to Pompeii?”
An awkward silence descended. I didn’t want to lie but Francesca obviously preferred to keep the kidnapping a secret from her sisters. The truth would only anger and frighten them. “We didn’t get the chance,” I said when no one spoke. “Allora. Next time.”
Francesca gave the room a tight smile, one that did not reach her eyes. “Right. We hardly left the beach.”
Marco entered and headed for me. He’d been waiting for Enzo to wake up. My cousin bent and said in my ear, “He says he’s ready to sign it over to you.”
Satisfaction rippled through me. This was what I’d been waiting for before killing him. Enzo’s entire empire was about to be mine. “I’m coming.”
Marco nodded to the table on his way out the door. I rose and placed my napkin beside my plate. Leaning over, I kissed Francesca’s cheek. “I must go.”
“But you haven’t had dessert yet,” she said, clutching my tie.
I held her jaw in my hand and caressed her soft skin for a brief moment. “You have it. I will see you tomorrow.”
Straightening, I caught Giulio’s eye and lifted my chin. He stood and excused himself to Zia and the sisters, then followed me from the room.
The two of us moved silently through the old house. “Why can’t I take the girls to a club?” he asked. “You don’t think I can keep them safe?”
He had pride like mine, so I had to tread lightly. “Of course I do, but I promised Mancini his daughters wouldn’t leave the estate.”
“Ah. Well, tell me next time. You made me look foolish in front of everyone.”
The old instincts reared up, but I beat them down. He was right, as much as I didn’t like explaining myself to anyone. “I’m sorry. I will try to keep you better informed.”
My son drew to a halt and I did the same. He was studying me oddly. “What?” I asked.
“I can’t believe I got an apology out of you. She is really having some effect on you, il Diavolo.”
“Watch your mouth,” I growled, then set off for the dungeon again. “I’m still your father.”
He came up alongside me. “Has she answered you yet?”
“She told you I asked her to marry me?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“You know I can’t tell you. It wouldn’t be right.”
Irritation tightened in my gut. I didn’t like that he was so willing to take her side over mine, as she’d done when she kept his secret from me. But I needed to come to terms with it. The two of them were close, part of my family, and I reminded myself to be grateful that they had each other. Loyalty to family was important, even if it didn’t include me.
He continued, “If it helps ease your mind, I did call her la bella matrigna.”
That drew a laugh out of me. “I bet she hated that.”
“Give her time, Papà. She’s put up with a lot over the last few months.”
“I know. And I am. Even though it is fucking killing me.”
“It’ll be worth it in the end.” He clapped my shoulder. “At least one of us will be happily married, no?”
“Giulio—”
He held up his hands as if to stop me. “Please do not tell me marriage won’t be so bad again. I have been in love, and I have also seen you and Frankie. I know what true happiness looks like. What I will have is so far from that it’s a joke.”
He walked ahead of me as we passed through the dungeon door, and I pushed my son’s suffering out of my mind for now. I had Enzo’s to concentrate on instead.
Francesca
“Wait a minute,” Gia said, shaking her head as if clearing it. “You were kidnapped at gunpoint, held for a week in Naples, before Fausto busted in like some action hero and saved you?”
“Yes,” I said. “That is about right.”
“The fuck, Frankie?” she snapped. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
We were in my old room, which is where Emma was sleeping, with Gia just on the other side of the hall. I decided, after the comment about Naples during dinner, to tell them the truth about Enzo and the kidnapping. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Why did this other mafia don kidnap you?” Emma asked, always the practical, level-headed one.
“He was trying to blackmail Fausto. I’m not sure over what, but it sounded like a slice of the drug trade.”
“Fausto deals drugs?”
This could not be a surprise to either of my sisters. “He imports them, other people deal them. Like our father.”
“Are you shitting me?” Gia asked. “I thought Papà just ran casinos and bank heists.”
“And drugs,” I added. “He lost some product and owed Fausto a lot of money, which was why Papà traded me in the first place.”
“Did this other mafia don hurt you?” Emma asked.
“He scared the shit out of me. Does that count?”
“I love that Fausto came and rescued you,” my sweet sister said. “That must have been exciting.”
More like terrifying. Men shot right before my eyes, Enzo holding a gun to my head. Sure. Good times.
“So they killed the other don, the one that kidnapped you,” Gia said.
“Actually, no. He’s in Fausto’s dungeon as we speak.”
Both of their jaws dropped open. “Fausto has a dungeon,” Gia said. “Oh, my God. You have to take me down there!”
Emma shoved Gia’s leg with her foot. “You know she doesn’t like basements and cellars. Besides, you don’t need to go down there and see a bunch of poor men being tortured.”
“As far as I know, it’s just Enzo down there—and don’t feel bad for him. He locked me in a trunk and put a fucking gun in my mouth. He called me a slut. He’s a terrible person.”
“I can’t help it,” Emma said. “I don’t like the thought of some helpless soul suffering down there while I’m up here drinking wine and eating tiramisu.”
“Then don’t think about it,” Gia and I said at the same time.
Emma looked at me, a frown pulling the edges of her mouth. “Our father never brought his work home like this. How can you stand it?”
“Things are different in Italy,” I told them. “We were sheltered from a lot of what went on in Toronto, even though we were raised in the life. But the men are more violent, more misogynistic here. So, keep your heads down. Don’t cause trouble. Okay?”
“Okay,” Emma said.
“I’ll try,” Gia said at the same time.
“I’m serious.” I pointed at Gia. “Leave Fausto’s men alone. Trust me, you do not want to get mixed up with one of them.”
“You make them sound so awful.” Emma gestured to my stomach. “But you’re having a baby with one. They can’t be all bad.”
“God, you are such a bleeding heart,” Gia told her twin. “You’d better hope your husband isn’t in the life. He’ll eat you alive.”
Emma lifted a shoulder. “It’s not my fault that I think everyone deserves compassion and understanding. Look at Frankie. She’s forgiven Fausto after all he’s done to her.”
“Whoa,” I said, holding up my hand. “I haven’t forgiven Fausto.”
Gia chuckled. “Sure, right. That’s why you two were whispering and touching all through dinner, because you’re still mad at him.”
“Exactly, and I saw the way you looked at each other,” Emma added. “He’s in love with you.”
“Maybe, but I can’t trust him. How do I know he won’t hurt me again?”
“You don’t. You never will. Trust isn’t something you can show or buy. It’s in here.” Emma pointed to her chest, then pointed to her head. “And here.”
“He asked me to marry him,” I murmured.
My sisters both squealed and clapped their hands. “Where is the ring?” Gia said, sitting up on her knees. “I need to see the rock.”
I went to the jewelry box, which hadn’t yet been moved to Fausto’s room. I took out the ring box and pulled the platinum and diamond ring from the fabric. “It belonged to his mother,” I said and handed it to Gia.
“Oh, Frankie,” Emma said with a sigh, hand on her heart. “It’s beautiful—and sentimental.”
“The diamond could be bigger.” Gia slipped the band on her finger. “It looks good on me, though.”
“Give me that back,” I said, taking my ring off Gia’s finger. “The diamond is the perfect size. I’m not a Kardashian, for fuck’s sake.”
“Why aren’t you wearing it?” Emma asked.
“Because.” I flopped onto the bed. “I haven’t decided my answer yet.”
“You’re having his child. You need to marry him,” Emma said. “Even if just for the baby’s sake.”
“So romantic,” I drawled.
“Do you love him?” Gia narrowed her keen gaze on me. “Like, really love him?”
Did I want to answer that? I stared at the ceiling and thought about it. How could I love a man who had hurt me so terribly? What was wrong with me that I still craved his touch and his dominance?
I couldn’t begin to explain it. All I knew was that I did.
I nibbled on my lip. “Yes, I do.”
“Then get your shit together and marry him,” Gia said. “For yourself and your kid.”
“Easy for you to say. Marriage means forever. I never expected to stay here forever.”
“It means forever for him, too,” Emma added.
Gia’s phone dinged. She unlocked it and began texting someone. “I get it, but if you can’t bring yourself to walk away, then let him put a ring on it and reap the benefits.”
Hmm. Maybe they were right. I had a lot to gain from a marriage with Fausto. Money, status, protection . . . him. You do belong to me. And if you agree to this then I belong to you, as well. I wanted to belong to him so badly, I just didn’t want to get hurt again.
Last night in the gym, Fausto’s anguish and regret had been real. If Giulio and Zia were to be believed, Fausto suffered the entire time I’d been at the beach house, not to mention after I’d been kidnapped.
“You are the worst at making decisions,” Gia said as she studied my face. “Life is too short, Frankie.”
“You are terrible at making decisions,” Emma added. “Which is why Gia and I always picked where to go out to eat in Toronto. You like when someone else decides.”
Did I? Was that why I was drawn to Fausto’s bossiness?
This time he was letting me decide, though. It must’ve been killing him. He wasn’t a man used to waiting. Instead he made quick decisions and lived with the consequences.
Even when he got it wrong.
I stared at the ring. I wanted him and I loved him. He loved me, too. The contract would protect me and the baby, should anything go wrong. There was nothing to stop me from taking what I needed, even if we split. The money was mine.
I am giving you everything.
I think I was finally ready to accept it.
Looking at my hand, I slipped the ring onto my finger. I loved the way it looked. Even better was the way it felt—like ownership. Fausto’s ownership.
Yes, I was fucked up. But he was, too.
“It looks good on you, Frankie,” Emma said, nudging my thigh with her foot. “And I can tell you like it. Your face is beet red.”
Was it? I pushed my hair out of my face. “I have to go. I’ll see you both in the morning. Zia makes the most amazing pastries. You’re going to love them.” I kissed each of their cheeks. “Get some sleep.”
“Wait, don’t go yet,” Gia said. “I want to talk more about this dungeon. Is it, like, a real dungeon with cells and chains? Or is it more like this?” She held up her phone and showed me a photo of a sex dungeon.
“Cute, Gia. And it’s a real dungeon, with cells and rats and probably ghosts. I don’t know why you’re so interested in it.”
“Frankie, you have to take me down there. I have to see it.”
“We already covered this. No fucking way,” I said.
“Why not?” Gia said, obviously irritated.
“There’s no chance I’m going down there again.”
“You don’t have to go. Just take me there and tell me where to go.”
“Gia,” Emma said, “it’s a dungeon. They kill people down there. It’s not for fun.”
“I know.” The elder twin rolled her eyes. “Why do you think I want to see it? When else am I ever going to get another chance to see a real live dungeon? Please.”
“Forget it,” I said. “The man who is down there right now kidnapped me, kept me prisoner, and tried to hurt Fausto and his family. If he’s still alive, he’s in very bad shape.”
“I’ll be quick. One peek!” Gia begged.
Annoyed, I put my hands on my hips. Why was she being so difficult? “Don’t make me regret the fact that you’re here. It’s been too long and I wasn’t sure I’d ever even see you again.”
Gia’s expression instantly sobered. “I’m sorry. Of course you’re right. I’m being a brat. Forget I even asked.”
“Okay, good.” At least I didn’t have to argue anymore. “I’m going to find Fausto. If you need anything, see if you can find Giulio or Zia. I’ll catch up with you both tomorrow.”
“Have fun getting laid,” Gia sing-songed as I walked out, and I shook my head. I’d forgotten what a pain in the ass she could be.
I went straight downstairs to the security room. Three guards were behind the desk, intently watching the screens. “Ciao,” I said. “Can one of you tell Don Ravazzani that I need to see him upstairs. It’s very important.”
“Sì, Signorina Mancini.” One of the guards picked up his cell and began texting.
“Grazie,” I called and darted through the castello until I was in Fausto’s wing. When I entered his bedroom, I immediately took off all my clothes and put on my silk robe. Then I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. Nerves bubbled in my stomach, but there was no going back. The decision had been made.
I sat on the bed and waited. I was ready to face my fiancé.
