Fuck me.
My knees quiver and my pussy tightens. I’m wet just from his deep tone and what he implies, even though I have no clue what he’s really talking about. I think he just threatened me . . . so why do I want him to tear my clothes off and ravage me right here, right now?
To avoid thinking about sex, I force myself to think of the beach, the clear Mediterranean water, and running along the shoreline chasing birds when I was a kid on family holidays.
A whiff of his tantalizing cologne brings me back to reality. This man drips sex with every word, with every look, and I can only imagine that his body is sculpted like theDavidand is something to behold. From the intensity in his eyes and the way he has his hand on my knee, I’m sure if we were alone, we’d be fucking, and I’d know what his magnificent cock looked like and felt like inside me.
I imagine his hands between my thighs and know I could have an orgasm if he so much as touched me there. When his thumb brushes the back of my knee, I take a deep breath, a dead giveaway that he’s having an effect on me. He has to know that I won’t be able to resist him much longer.
No sooner do we pull away from the hotel than I find we are parked in front of what appears to be a fancy eating establishment. Two valets rush over to open our doors and the maître d’ rushes out to greet Dante by name. As I’m helped out of the car, I wonder if he owns this place too. I wouldn’t be surprised. Any business establishment that handles a lot of cash is a good place to launder dirty money. I’m new to this world, but everyone knows that.
I stop dwelling on the darker side of his life as I’m introduced to the maître d’ as Juliet, no last name. I take it as he doesn’t want it known.
Who could my father be and what could be so seriously bad that even Dante doesn’t want to mention his name? When this mystery man finds out I’m alive after twenty-one years, will my life be able to return to normal?
15
Dante
It’s nice to be back here at the penthouse and I look a minute to take in the evening stars that are plentiful on such a clear night. I haven’t been up this way in quite some time. There’s not much I can do about the Albanians gaining in strength and numbers, but we still have some territory and connections up here, so it doesn’t hurt to show my face and pay some people a visit to say hello.
For instance, we have a meeting lined up with the mayor. He’s got a gambling problem and we carry his vig for him. I also contribute to his campaign fund, and in exchange, he uses his political connections to give me influence where my money wouldn’t otherwise be welcome.
Riccardo and I step out onto the garden terrace so we can have a conversation without having to worry about Juliet overhearing us while she explores the penthouse. Deep in thought, I rub my hand across my jaw, as I always do, and I curse myself once again for starting this pissing match with Conti and especially for dragging Juliet into it.
She preoccupies my mind, even during my darkest moments. She’s a good person, lives a normal life, and now I’ve fucked that up for her. I brought her into this life, the life her mother sacrificed everything to keep her away from. I didn’t realize how this will affect her after she’s of no more use to me. But it’s clear now that she’ll probably never be safe as long as Conti breathes. He’s a man stuck in the past, hellbent on vengeance.
“Yeah, he threatened us, so we have to increase security,” I break my silence at last. “I don’t know which one of us he wants to get rid of, maybe both.” Riccardo opens a bottle of Dewar’s and pours a glass for each of us.
“Drink,” he grumbles, sounding more like Russian KGB than Italian.
I chuckle, he’s a stand-up guy and I’m glad he has my back twenty-four/seven. He values my life as much as he values his own, maybe more. He never married and has no children to carry on the family name. His only sister followed her husband to Switzerland and his mother lives in a small condo in Florence. He pays her bills and stops by when he can. He’s a good son and a loyal employee.
After brushing a few stray leaves off a cushioned chair, I drag it to a bistro table and sit. Riccardo joins me and pulls two cigars from his jacket, clips the ends, and hands me one along with a lighter. I light up and hand the torch back. We lean back in our chairs and enjoy our brief moment of peace and solitude.
I blow out a ring of smoke and watch the circles rise until a light breeze carries them away. “We need to plan for Conti to act as crazy as he usually does. A leopard doesn’t change its spots. Not even for Juliet,” I muse.
“On it, boss. I think a church meeting would be best, it’s the safest. We just need to find one with security and be extra careful getting in and out,” Riccardo suggests.
Quietly, I take another puff on my cigar. I like his plan and was thinking the same thing myself.
“There’s a million churches in Florence, but only one with security like that, and the line is so long, we’d never get in.”
“What about Siena? It’s a bit of a drive, but it’s our territory and I have a contact who can get us in if lines are an issue,” Riccardo offers.
“I like that. Yes, that could work.” I lean back and gaze at the clear sky, but in truth, all I can think about is Juliet. From the day we met in the courtyard, I have found her intriguing and can’t get enough of her. I could stare at her all day.
She seems shy, almost timid, but she handles herself with poise for someone completely outside their comfort zone. She catches on quickly. Smart girl, I like that.
I’m not sure how she’s going to handle meeting Conti. I imagine he’ll turn on the charm and spew lies, and she will believe him because we never want to think anyone, especially our parent, can lie to us.
I’m prepared for her to be sucked in by him in the beginning, but it won’t be long before the façade cracks and she will see him for who he truly is. Then she probably won’t want anything to do with him. So why meet at all?
Now, I’m thinking it’s best if they never meet. He will always be watching her, and I don’t want her living the rest of her life worried that he could take her at any time and that I might not be there to prevent it. I started this and it’s my duty to keep her safe. Who am I kidding? She’ll never be safe as long as he lives, and I’m not safe either. The only way we can be free is if he’s dead, but I can’t kill another don. That would bring another blood bath and garner the attention of the authorities from every office in Italy, and we want to avoid that at all costs. It hurts business.
Conti is so powerful, he even has ambulances turn their sirens off in neighborhoods in the south because it interferes with selling drugs on the streets. Customers think the police are coming, as their sirens sound alike, so he leaned on a few people and presto, like magic, the sirens don’t blare in the suburbs. That’s some kind of muscle.
“Conti will always be a problem, always has been, always will be,” Riccardo observes as he exhales a puff of smoke from the Cuban cigar. “I’m surprised he hasn’t made more trouble for you over the years, to be honest.”