Early the next morning I was back at my desk, reviewing a city contract we were bidding on. Mayor Volpe assured me the job would go to my construction company, even if my bid was twice the others. That was the way of things here. No one got ahead by playing fair.
The Mancini twins landed in Toronto during the night. Mancini asked about the wedding, but I didn’t feel like talking. I wanted as little to do with Francesca’s family as possible. That part of her life was over. She belonged to me, no one else. Her future was with me and my family, this estate. She would remain at my side until I died.
My wife.
I would never tire of saying the words.
After screwing in the vineyards last night, I brought her inside to clean up and then fucked her again, this time in a bed. My back screamed in protest this morning because of it, but I didn’t regret it. I’d take her as often as she’d let me.
Giulio entered with two cups of espresso. I was impressed. He was up early, clear-eyed, and well-dressed. It gave me hope. “Buongiorno,” he said and sat one cup near my papers.
“Ciao.” I thanked him for the espresso. “Have you—?”
My phone rang and I checked the display. Marco was due any moment, but it wasn’t my cousin. This was a number from Piedmont, one I didn’t recognize . . . but I suspected. Not many people had my direct number, except for the other ’ndrina leaders and governmental officials I worked with closely.
Exhaling, I slid to answer then put it on speaker for Giulio’s benefit. “Pronto.”
“Ciao, Fausto!”
It was as I thought. I would know his voice anywhere. “Ciao, Mommo. Come stai?”
“Va bene, va bene. That package you need to return? Have you given it more thought?”
I wasn’t fooled by his code. By package he meant Enzo—and I wasn’t returning that stronzo except in pieces. Plus, Mommo had already tried this. Why was he pushing the matter again?
“I decided to keep it. It’s fragile and won’t last much longer.”
There was a long silence on the other end. Finally, Mommo said, “That is disappointing to hear. Your father would want you to do the right thing, especially on the heels of the joyous wedding last night.”
Cazzata. My father would have relished torturing Enzo to death right away, no matter which members of La Provencia complained about it.
But what worried me was how Mommo had learned of my wedding so quickly. My come was practically still drying on my wife. How the fuck had word spread so quickly?
“I am surprised you heard.”
“You know these men.” He chuckled, a deep smoker’s rasp that spoke of a lifelong habit. “They gossip worse than old women.”
Marco walked in and he frowned when he saw my expression. I turned my attention back to the call. “Yes, they do. Still, I would feel better if I knew where your information has come from.”
“It’s not every day that one of our most powerful leaders gets married, Fausto. Everyone is talking about it. Jealousy, no doubt, over your beautiful wife.”
I squeezed my fingers, making a fist over and over. “And yet I haven’t heard you offer up your congratulations.”
The resulting pause told me everything I needed to know. “Congratulations, my boy. Evviva gli sposi!” The traditional well wishes sounded forced.
“Thank you,” I said coolly. “Was there anything else?”
“No, but they will demand answers regarding that package in a few weeks when I see you. This will not go unnoticed.”
He was talking about Crimine, the yearly meeting for the highest ’Ndrangheta leaders. “I am more than happy to explain myself, but this is a private matter. They will understand.”
“I hope for your sake that you are right. I must go. Ciao, Fausto.”
We rang off and I tossed my phone onto the desk with an angry clatter. I dragged a hand through my hair. “I don’t like this,” I said to Giulio and Marco.
My cousin rubbed a hand over his mouth. “How did he hear of your wedding so quickly?”
“That is a good question.” I leaned back and exhaled toward the ceiling. Madonna, it wasn’t even nine o’clock and this day had already turned to shit. “Where are we with our investigations into the men?”
“Emilia thinks Benito is clean. I spoke with her yesterday,” Marco said. “There’s nothing in his finances that suggests any money coming in or out, not more than the usual. At least that she could find.”
“I’m close with Benito,” Giulio agreed. “I would know if he was working with one of our enemies.”
Maybe. I wasn’t willing to risk my family’s safety on maybe, though. “Where are we with the others?”
“Emilia’s working on it. I gave her more names to investigate. She did say Vic’s stuff is heavily locked down. She’s coming up against dead ends everywhere.”
“That is suspicious.”
“Maybe, but maybe not,” Giulio said. “He’s a tech guy. He’s not some clueless soldier who’d keep his money under the mattress.”
The pit of my stomach churned as I considered this. I wanted answers. Normally, I was a patient man, but every day this traitor remained in the shadows was a risk to everything I loved. “Still, I don’t like it. We’re keeping him off the estate?”
“Certo,” Marco said. “He’s working on beefing up the security at one of the warehouses. I’ve got a few guys watching him.”
“Should we try to sweat him? Bring him to the dungeon and see what we can find out?”
Marco shook his head. “It’s too risky until we have more information. If it’s not Vic, it will tip off the real traitor and we may never learn who it is.”
“That’s true. The men will notice,” Giulio added. “The second Vic disappears, word will spread.”
I turned the problem over in my mind, examined it from all sides. “What if we take this woman, this GDF agent? Rinaldo? We sweat her instead?”
Marco and Giulio exchanged a look. “She’s a woman, Papà,” Giulio said. “We can’t . . .”
He let it hang there, but I was already leaning forward. “I don’t fucking care if she’s a woman. She approaches Francesca? She should die for that alone.”
“It would look very bad,” Marco said carefully. “And it would bring a ton of shit down on our heads. The GDF and the press would go crazy.”
I knew this, but part of me didn’t care. “What if we take a trip to Piedmont?”
Marco pursed his lips, which he did often while thinking. “Take one of Mommo’s guys? I like it.”
“Won’t he suspect us?” Giulio asked.
“Not at first,” I said. “He treats me like I’m an idiot, like he’s a mentor in my father’s absence.”
“I like this,” Marco said. “I’ll organize a trip tomorrow, after we see who in Mommo’s crew would most likely have answers.”
“Good.” I looked at Giulio. “Sit with Francesca today. Have her write down everything she can remember from her time with Enzo, even if she thinks it’s insignificant. She mentioned some things last night during the reception, and maybe she can remember more.”
“I will, after her doctor’s appointment.”
Francesca had a doctor’s appointment today? “Why wasn’t I told she was going out?” I frowned at my cousin. “Did you know?”
“Yes. We’ve arranged security.”
“I want her doctor coming here,” I snapped. “No more trips off the estate.”
My son winced and held up his palms. “She won’t like that.”
“Too fucking bad. She should—” I bit off the words, too angry with everyone. “Forget it. I’ll tell her as soon as she’s awake.”
Francesca
I finally rolled out of bed and carried my exhausted ass downstairs for coffee. Granted, decaf because of the baby, but I wasn’t complaining. To relax and sip a hot beverage sounded heavenly right now. Fausto had really taken it out of me last night.
Our wedding night, though? Absolute perfection.
As long as I live I’d never forget the way he looked at me, the way he devoured me in the vineyards. Then he brought me inside and melted my heart by fucking me slow and sweet, hardly breaking eye contact the entire time. God. Just thinking about it gave me shivers.
Giulio suddenly appeared beside me at the espresso machine. “You’re finally awake.”
I gave him serious side-eye. “I’m usually up before you, so I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” My cup finished, so I took it off the machine and brought it to my mouth, blowing on the liquid to cool it down. “Speaking of, why are you up so early?”
“I was meeting with Fausto and Marco.”
“Your new security role?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t say anything else as he started to make another cup of espresso, so I nudged his shoulder with mine. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“What did you talk about? What’s going on?”
He frowned as he worked the buttons. “You know I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s business.”
I put my hand on my chest. “But I’m family now. Team Ravazzani. I’m allowed to know business.”
The noise that escaped his mouth said he didn’t agree. “If my father approves, then I’ll tell you whatever you wish to know.”
Irritation prickled along my skin. I didn’t like being kept in the dark. Weren’t Giulio and I supposed to be friends?
Leaning in, I said, “If you don’t tell me, then I’ll tell you all about my amazing wedding night with of tons of rough sex and orgasms—”
“Dai, matrigna! Basta!”
I laughed at the genuine horror in his expression. “Every time you shut me out then I’ll talk about all the orgasms your father is giving me.”
“Gross, Frankie. Knock it off.”
“Knock what off?” Fausto asked as he appeared in the kitchen doorway
My husband strode in, looking sexy as fuck in a three-piece gray suit that hugged his body. But it wasn’t the bespoke clothing or expensive leather shoes that held my eye. Or even the classy silver watch peeking out from under the cuff of his dress shirt. It was the platinum band on his left ring finger that captured my attention. He was really mine.
“Oh, bella,” Giulio chuckled under his breath before he sipped his espresso. “You have it so bad.”
Not quite done torturing Giulio, I focused on Fausto, who was putting his cup and saucer into the porcelain sink. “I was just telling your son about all the amazing sex we had last night.”
Giulio choked on his espresso, then immediately started for the hallway. “Bacha ma culo, matrigna!”
I rolled my lips between my teeth to keep from laughing. “Same to you, figliastro!” Yes, I had researched the word for stepson for this very reason.
Fausto shook his head, like Giulio and I were two obnoxious kids trying his patience. “I need to speak with you,” he said to me, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.
I didn’t like the sound of that. “Oh?”
“You have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon?”
“Yes. At two o’clock.”
“You need to arrange it so the doctor visits you here.”
He didn’t elaborate or explain, which made me bristle a tiny bit. “Why?”
“Because I said so, Francesca. It’s safer this way.”
“But—”
“There’s no ‘but.’ Your safety and our child’s safety is my responsibility. The doctor may come here.”
“Fausto,” I snapped. “That’s fine for future appointments, but I can’t cancel at the last minute. I’ve already confirmed that I’ll be there.”
“Then call and tell them you won’t.” I started to argue, and he held up his hand. “I’m trying very hard not to raise my voice or lose my patience, but it’s safer for you in the castello.”
“And I agreed to have future appointments here. But we don’t have any of the equipment yet. How are they supposed to do a check-up? Also, who knows when she’ll be able to squeeze me in?”
“Have you forgotten your last name? She’ll squeeze you in, do not worry.”
This was ridiculous. “Giulio can take me today if you’re busy.”
“It has nothing to do with whether I am busy or not. I don’t want you off the estate. Not now, maybe not ever!”
His voice rose steadily to a roar but I held my ground. “Have you lost your mind? I can’t be a prisoner here.”
“You will, if I ask it of you.”
The conversation had taken a drastic turn, one I definitely didn’t like. “Are we compromising? Because it doesn’t feel like it right now.”
He stared intently at my face, the bright blue depths swirling with emotion. I knew he was coming from a place of love, that he was worried about me and our bambino, but I didn’t like starting off this marriage as a dictatorship. He needed to learn to work with me, to respect my feelings. To confide in and trust me. I asked, “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”
“No.”
“Then I’m keeping my appointment. I’ll talk to her about moving them here for the future and ask for a list of equipment to buy, but I want to make sure everything is okay with the baby.”
He straightened off the counter, his body instantly taut. “Have you been feeling any pain? Any discomfort?”
“You mean after you fucked the shit out of me last night?”
“I’m serious, monella.”
“No pain, no twinges. But I am sore everywhere. We haven’t exactly been, like, gentle.”
He grimaced, almost as if he felt guilty. “Fine, I’ll take you. We’ll put your mind at ease about the baby.”
Warmth spread through me. He was learning.
I drifted over to where he stood and wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing close. He dropped his hands onto my hips. “Baby,” I whispered, nuzzling into his scratchy jaw. He hadn’t shaved this morning and I loved the feel of his scruff on my skin. “Did we just have our first fight as a married couple?”
He put his face in my hair and inhaled as his hands swept up my back. “I like when you are sweet with me. My little kitten.”
“Then I promise to be very sweet to you later, after my doctor’s appointment.”
He grunted. “I worry that something will happen to you. That something will happen to the baby.”
“You can keep us safe, paparino. There’s no one more capable than you and your men.”
He dipped his head and kissed behind my ear, then moved along my throat, his lips soft and adoring. “You are going drive me crazy for the rest of my life, aren’t you?”
“That is the plan, amore.”
