“She’s not going to be happy, but she’ll probably love the chance to be in Florence with the Uffizi. I saw her gazing at the pieces in the museum tonight and she seems to genuinely like sculptures and paintings.”
“She’ll love your mansion then; not so sure she’ll like the history of it.”
“Awe, that’s what makes it so unique.” I smile for the second time tonight. The first being when I discovered Valentina.
We have an undeniable connection. She might fight it, but in the end, she will surrender herself to me. “Ah, home sweet home. I can’t wait to shower and change.” I’m relieved to see our hotel, the latest five-star monstrosity in Rome as the ancient city tries to meet the growing demand for accommodations.
Savio drops me off at the front before pulling away to find parking.
As soon as I get in the room, I drop her shoes into my luggage and remove my tux, putting it into the hotel’s laundry bag to dump somewhere later. No need to take chances on how much blood is splattered on it. I shower and replay the kiss with Valentina.
I pop some nicotine gum in my mouth and chew ravenously. I’m a bit jittery and tell myself it’s from withdrawal.
This chemistry thing is new to me, but exciting. I run my tongue over my bottom lip, remembering what it felt like to have them on her mouth, her neck, her ear… and wonder what else I could’ve kissed before we were interrupted.
I find myself longing to see her again and shake my head as if it will break the spell she’s cast on me.
After I’ve scrubbed myself from one end to the next to remove all traces of blood, hair, and thug DNA, I dry off. I slip into designer jeans, a polo and black leather loafers.
I open the door that leads to the adjoining room Savio booked.
“You look refreshed.” He smiles, noticing my wet hair and casual clothes.
“I can dress down or dress to impress,” I reply, giving him a smirk. “We need a drink.”
“For sure, we have to toast to your victories tonight, of which there were many.”
“Indeed. I hope Grandfather sees it that way.” He should, considering we have the principessa as collateral if Luciano doesn’t include us in his dealings with the oligarchy.
We make our way to the restaurant downstairs and find a leather booth tucked in a corner that cannot be seen from the lobby.
“What are you drinking?” Savio asks, before heading to the bar.
“Whiskey, neat.” I remove the gum and roll it into a paper napkin left on the table.
We never sit with our backs to any door. I tend to look for all the entrances and exits whenever I’m in a new space. It’s military training I received from Grandfather’s top lieutenants, many who saw active duty and lived off the land most of their lives.
Savio returns with two whiskeys and eyes the room for trouble.
Satisfied we have no enemies in the restaurant, he holds up his glass. “To old times and new adventures.”
“Saluti,” I say, raising my glass, and we both take a swig. “Ah, that’s nice.”
“Top shelf, better be,” he jokes.
“Thanks for coming. I still can’t believe Italy fines people for sitting on the Spanish Steps, what the fuck is that?”
“Monuments,” he grumbles. “Change, it’s inevitable. Hell, next year you’ll be married. Oh, that reminds me, our attorney is working on the contracts and making sure your specifications are in it.”
“Great. Thanks for taking care of that for me. It will give me time to adjust to the thought of a permanent relationship. Plus, when she shows up in January, we can claim we met and fell in love at Dante’s wedding.”
I’m thinking about the repercussions of being involved with the Michelis, and engaged to a Sicilian. Meanwhile, I’m a top man in my family’s Albanian mafia. My life is becoming more complicated by the minute.
“How is that going by the way? The Michelis?”
“Interesting. No talk of striking at us but I’m not holding my breath. Sooner or later the Michelis will set boundaries with us.”
“Sure, sure. I wonder what will they do?”