《Convenient Mafia Wife: Prequel (Syndicate Rules Book 1)》


 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 1

    Las Vegas, Nevada


    Mancini Mafia


    GUILIA


    Busy finalizing the guest list for the next celebrity charity poker tournament, I¡¯m not paying attention when the car stops.


    All proceeds will go to funding research for heart disease in women. By all, I mean what is left after the mafia takes its cut.


    As the wife to the Las Vegas Cosa Nostra underboss, it is my responsibility to organize four events like this every year. Not only does the mafia take its cut, but the eventsunder less legitimate ie from the Mancini mafia businesses.


    My father, who was a don in New York would never have allowed my mother to materially participate in mafia business. My father-inw has different expectations. While I am not allowed to know anything else about the business, I am given a dor amount for each event I am supposed to wash.


    My husband shows his appreciation for me organizing each event. Sometimes with a piece of jewelry. Sometimes with a short trip abroad. Which I go on alone. Naturally.


    Raffaele Mancini is too busy with his position in his family¡¯s mafia empire to apany me. It¡¯s not as if we love each other. Well, not as if he loves me.


    I stupidly fell for Raff soon after our engagement was announced when I was sixteen. All right, at first, it was probably just a crush on the gorgeous, charismatic man I had been promised to since I was twelve.


    However, those feelings matured as the years went on. First, because he treated me with respect every time we were together. Then because he fought his father so that I could attend university before the wedding. It helped that my own father insisted on it as well.


    But the Mancinis could have pushed for the marriage to take ce as soon as I turned 18, and for me to attend university online. However, Raff understood how important it was to me to have the full college experience. Or so I thought.


    I also didn¡¯t want to be a teenage bride, and looking back, I realize he had no more interest in having a teenager for a wife.


    When I got married, I thought it was a fairytale. I was a mafia princess, and he was my prince.


    Unlike other arranged marriages in the mafia, we were going to be happy. We were going to love each other.


    Like my parents.


    My bubble burst on the second day of our honeymoon when he left me with bodyguards in Paris to return to Las Vegas to deal with something that to this day remains a mystery to me. I soon learned that no matter what, mafia business took precedence over our marriage.


    Over me.


    I figured out that Raff hadn¡¯t supported me attending university because he understood me. He was happy to put off the wedding because work always came first and not having a wife was even more convenient than having one. Even one that cemented the alliance between the strongest of the Five Families in New York and the Mancini mafia in Las Vegas.


    Lara opens my door and waits for me to step out of the car.


    Six feet tall with a muscture many men would envy and the beauty of a cover model, Lara could have gone to college on a basketball schrship. Instead, she joined the Marines, but delisted after making it into MARSOC. One of less than a hundred women in the Marines¡¯ elite special forces, she was stuck in support job because she is a woman.


    Returning to Vegas, she requested the opportunity to follow in her father¡¯s footsteps as a Cosa Nostra soldier in the Mancini mafia. Though her mother is a schoolteacher from Nigeria, her father is the descendant of one of the original Sicilian Cosa Nostra families.


    My father-inw has many faults, but an inability to recognize talent for the life because of gender isn¡¯t one of them.


    He has a higher percentage of female soldiers working in his ranks than MARSOC and he doesn¡¯t keep them in support positions.


    My head bodyguard, Lara is in charge of my security team.


    I unclip my seatbelt, slip my tablet into my Balenciaga hourss tote and climb out of the back of the luxury sedan. It¡¯s ck, just like all the other luxury sedans in Las Vegas.


    I could be the head of a casino, a celebrity, a high roller, or what I am¡­a mafia wife.


    Looking up, I see that we are at a medical facility. Unsurprising. My husband put this appointment on my calendar. I assume I¡¯m here to meet with one of the doctors involved in the heart disease research associated with the event I¡¯m working on.


    Raff isn¡¯t always great atmunicating, but I was raised in the life, and I¡¯m quick on the uptake. My mother trained me well for my role as wife to the future don.


    The driver stays with the car while Lara apanies me into the building.


    ¡®Hello, Mrs. Mancini. If you will just follow me?¡¯ A woman around my age indicates a hallway off the main reception area.


    I hadn¡¯t even had to tell them why I was here. Which is a good thing, since I¡¯m not absolutely sure what that is. However, I¡¯m used to this treatment.


    Keeping a Mancini waiting in Vegas is like expecting a member of the President¡¯s family to check in with reception in Washington D.C. ¨C it¡¯s not going to happen.


    I¡¯m a little startled when I am led into an exam room rather than one of the doctor¡¯s offices. Lara waits outside the door.


    ¡®Let¡¯s get you into a gown and then we¡¯ll check your weight and vitals.¡¯ The woman hands me a folded garment.


    Not wanting to reveal my confusion, I take it.


    ¡®I¡¯ll give you a minute to change.¡¯ She leaves.


    I drop the gown on the exam table and whip my phone out of my purse to check my calendar again. Maybe I missed something. I¡¯ve already had my yearly physical. So, what is going on?


    The note in my calendar reads:


    Dr. Hewitt


    11:15 a.m.


    The Smithson Building


    I do a quick search on Dr. Hewitt and find several in Las Vegas. One is a psychiatrist. Doubtful. Two are general practitioners. Possible. Another is a podiatrist. Unlikely. Another is a fertility specialist. Yeah, no. There is a physical therapist as well and even a naturopath by that name.


    None of them list the Smithson Building as their location, but that doesn¡¯t mean much since not all of them have locations listed, and those that do give physical addresses.


    So, I search on the Smithson Building and find a physical address topare. Is it ridiculous that I have no actual idea where I am in Las Vegas? Mamma would chastise me. I should always be aware of my surroundings and location.


    I¡¯ve grownx, trusting Lara and my driver to get me where I need to be when I need to be there.


    Usually, my personal assistant is with us as well, but not always and I hadn¡¯t questioned when Janine wasn¡¯t in the car. I¡¯d assigned her several tasks for today and had assumed she was working on them.


    I wish she were here now because I¡¯m certain she knows why I am here.


    Before I can cross-reference the physical address for the building with the Dr. Hewitts I found in my search, the door opens.


    ¡®Oh, you aren¡¯t changed.¡¯ The woman isn¡¯t smiling now. In fact, she looks annoyed. ¡®Dr. Hewitt made time in his schedule for you despite being fully booked. Patients have to wait months to get in to see him, but Mr. Mancini insisted.¡¯


    Okaaay. ¡®For what exactly?¡¯ I ask.


    The woman¡¯s mouth twists in a frown. ¡®For an exam.¡¯ She says it like I¡¯m not very bright.


    Her attitude irritates me, but one thing a mafia wife learns to deal with is people, especially made men, thinking she¡¯s not as smart as they are.


    I¡¯m no ornament, but this woman clearly doesn¡¯t know that.


    ¡®I¡¯ll change. Give me another minute.¡¯


    ¡®I hope you mean that literally,¡¯ the woman says and then leaves in a huff.


    Regardless of her clear annoyance, I don¡¯t rush removing my dark pink Chanel sheath dress and cream colored short cardigan. While February in Las Vegas is nowhere near as cold as New York City, it stays under seventy degrees most days, making a light jacket or sweater necessary.


    Iy my clothes neatly over the back of a chair before donning the examination gown. I don¡¯t take off my jewelry or shoes since I wasn¡¯t asked to. Besides, there are no socks or booties provided.


    I keep my purse nearby. Though I¡¯m positive Lara wouldn¡¯t allow me to be in a dangerous situation, I feel better having easy ess to my gun.


    The woman returns in just over the minute allotted and gives my shoes a dirty look but doesn¡¯t tell me to take them off. ¡®Good. Let¡¯s get your weight and vitals, shall we.¡¯


    Her tone is less friendly and more officious.


    I step onto the scale with a grimace. Although it has been three years since my son¡¯s birth, I never lost all the weight I gained when I was pregnant with Neri.


    The nurse, as I¡¯m sure that is what she is now, tuts and then instructs me to sit on the exam table. She takes my blood pressure and I wonder, not for the first time, why it has to hurt so much when the cuff tightens.


    Maybe I¡¯m just sensitive.


    The nurse checks my heart rate and oxygen levels before saying, ¡®The doctor will be with you soon.¡¯


    Despite how put out she obviously is, I¡¯m sure I won¡¯t be kept waiting. I am a Mancini. And this is Vegas.


    As expected, a light knock sounds a couple of minutester.


    I roll my eyes. The nurse hadn¡¯t knocked once. ¡®Come in.¡¯


    A tall, thin, grey-haired man wearing a whiteb coat and stethoscope enters the room. He looks like a doctor, but I¡¯m shocked that he is a man.


    I haven¡¯t had a male doctor or nurse treat me since my marriage. Per my husband¡¯s requirement. Now, I¡¯m not sure what to think because Raff arranged this exam.


    ¡®I am Dr. Hewitt.¡¯ He puts his hand out to shake. ¡®It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Mancini.¡¯


    I shake hands with him. His palm is dry and cool.


    ¡®Why am I here?¡¯ I ask bluntly.


    ¡®We¡¯re just going to run some tests and do a basic physical exam. Nothing to be afraid of.¡¯


    ¡®I am not afraid.¡¯ But I am still confused. ¡®What kind of tests?¡¯


    ¡®Mr. Mancini wants us to determine if there is a physical and/or treatable reason for your infertility.¡¯


    ¡®Infertility?¡¯ I gasp, stunned. ¡®I have a son.¡¯


    ¡®Whom you gave birth to over three years ago.¡¯


    ¡®Yes.¡¯ I do not say: Thank you for stating the obvious. Sarcasm is not considered an attractive trait in an underboss¡¯s wife.


    But neither do I smile.


    ¡®Coupled with the two years it took you to get pregnant initially, Mr. Mancini is understandably concerned about theck of a second pregnancy since your son¡¯s birth.¡¯


    Is he kidding me? Embers of ragee to life deep inside me. ¡®He made an appointment for me with a fertility specialist because he wants to know why I haven¡¯t gotten pregnant?¡¯


    I keep my tone even. Just. When what I really want to do is yell so loud it bursts this condescending asshole¡¯s eardrums.


    ¡®I understand how difficult and embarrassing this might be for you, but you need to understand that whatever the cause of the infertility, it does not make you less of a woman.¡¯


    This man counsels couples on their inability to have children? This man does? Those poor couples. Especially the women.


    Embarrassing. Infertility. Neither are words that reflect any level of sensitivity.


    What a jerk.


    ¡®The ability to have children has absolutely nothing to do with being a woman,¡¯ I grit out as calmly as possible.


    His, ¡®Hmm,¡¯ could be taken for either agreement or disagreement. ¡®If left untreated, it could impact your marriage.¡¯


    Again, insensitive much?


    ¡®If what is left untreated?¡¯ Why does he assume the problem lies with me? If there is a problem. Which there isn¡¯t.


    What there is, is highly effective birth control.


    ¡®Your inability to conceive.¡¯


    ¡®Have you had even an hour¡¯s worth of sensitivity training?¡¯ I wonder out loud.


    ¡®I assure you. I am the best in my field. My sess rate is higher than any other fertility specialist in the Western United States.¡¯


    I just bet he hates having to qualify that im with a geographical designation. This guy just oozes condescending arrogance.


    ¡®And I assure you, this is unnecessary.¡¯ I put my hand up when he opens his mouth to say something else. ¡®I have an IUD. I had it inserted the day after my son¡¯s birth.¡¯


    It was either that or wait eight weeks. And the one area in which Raff does not and has never disappointed me is our sex life. I knew we¡¯d be having intercourse as soon as I got the go ahead after my six-week check-up.


    Dr. Hewitt¡¯s eyes widen. ¡®Mr. Mancini will be relieved to hear that, I am sure.¡¯ Judgement for me not telling Raff about the birth controlces his already supercilious voice.


    I manage to hold back my angry retort. Dr. Hewitt is annoying, but he¡¯s not the person I¡¯m most furious with. That would be my husband.


    If Raff wanted to know why I hadn¡¯t gotten pregnant, why didn¡¯t he talk to me about it? Instead, he¡¯d made an appointment for me with a fertility specialist without consulting me.


    I¡¯m used to my husband being high handed. He¡¯s a mafia underboss after all. But this is beyond ridiculous. This is insulting and hurtful.


    My mind goes to the gun in a specially designed, concealed outer pocket of my handbag. All of my purses have them, regardless of designer. It makes it easy for me to ess my gun quickly and discreetly without opening my purse.


    If my husband was here right now, I¡¯d shoot him with it. In the arm, or something. I¡¯d want it to hurt him, but not leave him permanently incapacitated.


    I bet my father-inw has something to do with this, too. Now, him? I would like to kneecap. He¡¯s always banging on about us having more children, but I¡¯m not having another baby until I¡¯m ready.


    Ironically, I have an appointment with the OB/GYN who inserted the IUD to remove it when I visit my family in New York next month. I¡¯m seriously tempted to cancel that appointment.


    The doctor washes his hands and then puts on a pair of sterile gloves. ¡®I need you to remove your shoes andy back on the table.¡¯


    ¡®Why?¡¯ I already exined I don¡¯t need an examination.


    ¡®To remove the IUD.¡¯ He frowns. ¡®I was not expecting this additional procedure.¡¯


    The nursees back into the room carrying a tray with some sealed hypodermics and empty vials for blood sample collection. She sets it down on a portable table near me.


    ¡®I need forceps,¡¯ the doctor tells her. ¡®After I remove the IUD, I will still do the exam Mr. Mancini requested to make sure there are noplications.¡¯


    What is this guy¡¯s damage? I am the patient. Not my husband, and sure as hell not the nurse.


    ¡®She¡¯s on birth control?¡¯ The nurse res at me reprovingly.


    I don¡¯t wait for him to answer her. ¡®You are not touching me,¡¯ I tell them both firmly.


    The nurse ignores me and reaches for my shoes. I was raised by my mother to be ady, but my dad taught me to defend myself.


    So, I kick my leg out just missing her because she jumps backward. She¡¯s surprisingly fast.


    ¡®Get away from me. I am leaving.¡¯ I jump down from the exam table. ¡®You both need to get out of here so I can get dressed.¡¯


    Dr. Hewitt opens the door and calls out for someone. Neither he, nor the now scowling nurse leave the room like I told them to do.


    A couple of secondster a man wearing scrubses in.


    ¡®Mrs. Mancini needs some help calming down. Prepare a sedative,¡¯ Dr. Hewitt says to the woman. ¡®Dolph, help her back onto the exam table.¡¯


    Oh, heck, no.


    Dolph reaches for me and it¡¯s my turn to jump back. I grab my handbag and quickly pull out my Glock 19, training it on the big man. ¡®Step back.¡¯


    ¡®Put that away,¡¯ the doctor barks, not sounding worried at all.


    Does he think I won¡¯t shoot?


    The female nurse approaches me with the hypodermic.


    I let my gun¡¯s barrel shift slightly so it¡¯s pointing at her and I snarl. ¡®Stay away from me.¡¯


    She retreats and Dr. Hewitt turns his condescending arrogance on her. ¡®She¡¯s not going to shoot you, Lynne.¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t bet on it,¡¯ I say.


    I should call for Lara, but I¡¯m angry with her. She brought me here. And though I¡¯m sure she knew why too, Lara didn¡¯t say a word to me about it.


    Dolph leaps toward me and I quickly aim and fire. Lynne screams. Dr. Hewitt shouts and Dolph crashes backward, red blooming on the right side of his scrub top. I wasn¡¯t aiming for a kill shot, but to stop him.


    Lara bursts into the room, her gun drawn. As soon as she sees where I have mine aimed, the woman with the sedative, she trains hers on the doctor.


    ¡®Get this woman out of my clinic. When Mr. Mancini arranges another appointment, she needs to be sedated and cannot be armed.¡¯


    Lynne gasps. ¡®You are going to let here back? Why aren¡¯t we calling the police?¡¯


    The doctor ignores her.


    So does Lara. ¡®Giulia?¡¯


    Almost everyone in the Vegas mafia calls me by my first name. They do things differently here than in New York. There is a lot about Las Vegas that is different from where I grew up.


    The weather, for one thing. I like the sunshine, but the extreme heat in the summers is why I n my longest trip each year to visit my family in August.


    ¡®Guilia?¡¯ Lara prompts me again.


    Oops. My mind is wandering. I¡¯ve never shot anyone before. It¡¯s disconcerting. ¡®Dolph needs assistance before he bleeds out.¡¯


    Neither Dr. Hewitt nor Lynne move to help their colleague, who is sitting on the floor, bleeding against a cab.


    ¡®Why did you shoot him?¡¯ Lara asks me.


    ¡®He was going to force me onto the exam table where he¡­¡¯ I indicate the still fuming doctor. ¡®nned to shove his fingers up my vagina without my consent.¡¯ I point to Lynne. ¡®She was going to sedate me.¡¯


    Lara narrows her eyes at the doctor. ¡®Exin.¡¯


    With that one word, Lara puts herself firmly in the same doghouse as my husband. Instead of threatening the doctor, she requests an exnation. As if there is anything that could justify the man¡¯s actions.


    Apparently, like Raff and Dr. Hewitt, Lara doesn¡¯t believe my body belongs to me.


    It¡¯s not about being a woman. It¡¯s because I¡¯m the wife of the underboss and any children I have are heirs to the don.


    ¡®She has an IUD. Mr. Mancini wants her to get pregnant and she won¡¯t as long as it¡¯s in her uterus. I was going to remove it, per his instructions to treat her infertility.¡¯


    Furious, I say, ¡®I am the patient. You don¡¯t do anything to me without my permission. And also, the use of the word infertility could be triggering, as I¡¯m sure you are aware.¡¯


    This man needs more than a weekend seminar on sensitivity. He needs to have his brain rewired.


    ¡®Mr. Mancini knows that in order to do the exam, I would have to touch Mrs. Mancini¡¯s vaginal area. Even if she did not have an IUD he is unaware of,¡¯ Dr. Hewitt further exins to Lara,pletely disregarding my words.


    He thinks Raff will approve of his actions. He may be right.


    But I am livid. ¡®I should have shot you.¡¯


    ¡®Perhaps psychiatric treatment is in order,¡¯ Dr. Hewitt says, still speaking to Lara. ¡®Tell Mr. Mancini I can refer him to someone discreet.¡¯


    I shift my gun and pull the trigger. The bullet whizzes past the doctor¡¯s head and hits the wall behind him. Dr. Hewitt scream is just as high pitched as Lynne¡¯s. He¡¯s not so sanguine when the gun is pointed at him.


    ¡®Shut up,¡¯ I demand with a fierce re. ¡®Or the next bullet goes right through your mouth.¡¯


    Dr. Hewitt nches and shuts his mouth tight. Good. A puddle of urine pools around Lynne¡¯s feet. That shouldn¡¯t make me as happy as it does.


    Lara sighs. ¡®I knew the boss should have talked to you about this before making the appointment.¡¯


    ¡®You think?¡¯ I put my gun down at the end of the exam table closest to me and rip the exam gown off.


    ¡®What are you doing?¡¯ Lara demands, showing her first sign of shock.


    ¡®Getting dressed.¡¯


    ¡®You shouldn¡¯t be doing that with everyone in the room.¡¯


    ¡®Really?¡¯ I roll my eyes. ¡®My husband was going to let that man feel up my coochie. I don¡¯t think him, or his staff, seeing me in my bra and underwear is a problem.¡¯


    I pull my dress on and do the zip with an angry jerk, and then put on my sweater. After smoothing my hair as best I can with my fingers, I grab my purse and my gun. ¡®Let¡¯s go.¡¯


    Not waiting for Lara, I sail out of the exam room. Theck of an audience outside is testament to the quality of sound proofing in the exam rooms. Which is not aforting thought, honestly.


    Now that I¡¯m no longer in a room with people intent on sedating me, I tuck my gun back into my handbag.


    Fertility clinic, my backside.


    This ce should be shut down. Trying to treat a patient without consent.


    Thinking they can sedate me.


    Assholes, every one of them. But the biggest one is my husband, the underboss.


    Lara is right behind me by the time we get outside. ¡®Our people will take care of this. The doctor and nurses know not to talk.¡¯


    I get into the back of the car without a word to my bodyguard.


    Lara isn¡¯t doing me any favors.


    Dr. Hewitt and his medical staff are not going to talk because if they report my actions to the police, they will need to answer hard questions about why I felt threatened. Why they aren¡¯t HIPAApliant.


    Doing so and revealing such an egregious breach of my privacy could lose him his license and shut the clinic down.


    There¡¯s no point in me filing aint though. Because, at the very least, my father-inw will have it suppressed. That doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m okay with letting things stand.


    But right now, Dr. Hewitt and his nurses aren¡¯t the ones I¡¯m focused on. That would be my husband. The rat.


    ¡®Take me to the casino,¡¯ I instruct the driver.


    Although he has an oversight manager for the casino, Raff and his top lieutenants have their offices there.


    ¡®The boss is in a meeting right now. I will let him know you want to talk to him,¡¯ Lara says.


    I don¡¯t reply. As soon as we are back in Vegas proper, I wait for a red light. When the car slides to a stop, I get out. We¡¯re near the back side of the Luxor. I head to their taxi stand.


    ¡®Guilia!¡¯ Lara is right behind me. ¡®Stop.¡¯


    I listen to her just like everyone in that clinic listened to me today. Which is not at all.


    Walking right to the front of the line of guests waiting for a taxi, I say, ¡®I am Giulia Mancini. I need a taxi to¡­¡¯ I name the Mancini owned casino.


    The concierge whistles up a taxi and opens the door for me. Lara runs around to the other side when it bes clear to her that I¡¯m not sliding over to make room.


    I tell the taxi driver where I want to go.


    ¡®Guilia, you know he can¡¯t see you right now.¡¯


    I know that Raff won¡¯t prioritize seeing me right now. It is not the same thing. He can see me, and he will.

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 2

    New York City, New York


    Five Families


    SEVERU


    Fucking Irish.


    I kick the body on the floor.


    Even his own mother wouldn¡¯t recognize him now. It¡¯s not the missing fingers, or the broken legs. His face is a mass of cuts and bruises, eyes swollen shut. He¡¯s missing teeth. His hair is so matted with his own blood, it looks ck.


    My Head enforcer, Angelo, and I do damn fine work together.


    My consigliere disapproves of me taking a personal role in interrogation. He wants me to leave it to the enforcers. Fuck that. If Pietro Russo had taken a more active role in his mafia business, the Irish and Russians could have never moved in on him in Detroit.


    ¡®Open it,¡¯ I bark.


    Miceli, my brother and my underboss, ces his palm over the biometric reader on the wall. The steel te in the center of the floor drops eight inches and slides to one side, creating a man size hole.


    I shove the body with my foot until it tumbles through the opening. A soft ssh sounds. The scent of chemicals mix with the metallic scent of blood in the chilled room.


    We don¡¯t fucking dump bodies with cement shoes in the Hudson River like our grandfathers. We dispose of them without a trace.


    Our chemist created a solution that dissolves all organic tissue in a matter of hours. No stray bits of fiber. No bones to be found for forensic analysis. No fingerprints for identification and no goddamned DNA. Not his. Not ours.


    Any metal in the body, including bullets, gets strained out and put in the smelter. No medical device serial numbers. No ballistics.


    ¡®Fucking Irish,¡¯ I say out loud this time. ¡®They aren¡¯t moving in on my territory like they did Russo¡¯s.¡¯


    That was a bloodbath and five yearster, the mob and their bratva allies still control Russo¡¯s clubs and warehouses in Detroit. The supply routes through all of Wayne County are under their jurisdiction now too.


    I am Don of the Genovese, the strongest of the Five Families in the New York Cosa Nostra.


    My grandfather and father fought like hell to rebuild the Genovese family, to make us what we are today. I¡¯m not giving up so much as a goddamnedundromat to the Irish or anyone else. Much less a whole fucking county¡¯s supply routes.


    We operate under an uneasy truce, not an alliance, with the New York Irish mob and the other organized crime factions in the city. We have our boroughs and businesses we control; they have theirs.


    Someone¡¯s always trying to push against the boundaries we¡¯ve been protecting for thest hundred years and rebuilt over the past decades. When they do, we push back. Hard. And they learn to mind their manners.


    What the Irish did in Detroit? That was fucked. And it¡¯s not happening in my territory.


    ¡®Someone¡¯s feeding them information,¡¯ Miceli says, brown eyes just like mine filled with fury. ¡®Too many shipmentspromised. One of our safe houses burned.¡¯


    Cold rage surges through me making my teeth grind and my muscles clench. ¡®If it is famiglia, they will die slowly and in more pain than they have ever known.¡¯


    ¡®It could be an outsider.¡¯ Angelo finishes cleaning and putting away his tools.


    He keeps them in a titanium lined briefcase, which goes with the dark suits he wears. He wouldn¡¯t look out of ce on Wall Street but he¡¯s a bigger predator than any of those jackholes ever could be.


    He snaps the briefcase shut. ¡®Too many people working for us that aren¡¯t family.¡¯


    It¡¯s an oldint.


    And I¡¯m not in the mood for it today. ¡®You got a problem with how I run things?¡¯ I ask, stepping toward my head enforcer.


    ¡®No, boss.¡¯ Angelo¡¯s tone is even, his expression stoic like it always is.


    He¡¯s loyal. He wouldn¡¯t be in this room otherwise. I¡¯m still not taking any shit from him.


    Miceli, who is both my brother and my underboss, says, ¡®We have too many businesses to keep them staffed at the lower levels with made men.¡¯


    Sess has its downside.


    Like any of us needs that reminder. But he knows how close I am to snapping and this is his way of keeping the peace.


    ¡®You think an outsider knows our business that well, even one who works for us?¡¯ I ask Angelo.


    The Irish scum we¡¯d just interrogated had been told what warehouse to hit and where to ce the incendiary devices in order to make the fire look like abination of faulty wiring and unlucky product cement.


    Too bad for him, whoever gave him that information hadn¡¯t known about the security measures we added to all our facilities after a shipment got stolen from another location.


    Measures only the men in this room and my chief of security are aware of.


    ¡®Fuck if I know,¡¯ Angelo says. Which means he still thinks it¡¯s possible.


    No matter how pissed off the idea makes me, I have to consider it. Just like I can¡¯t rule out one of my own as the informant.


    ¡®Either his instructions were a he coincidence, or¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Someone arranged the merchandise to be arranged the way it was,¡¯ I interrupt Miceli.


    Warehouse logistics are handled by either the warehouse manager or the inventory coordinator. The managers are usually higher ranking and older made men, but the inventory coordinator could be a foot soldier. The forklift drivers, on the other hand, might not be Cosa Nostra at all.


    They don¡¯t know the true contents of the boxes and crates though.


    ¡®It could be apromised location,¡¯ Miceli says with a frown.


    ¡®You think somebody bugged us?¡¯ We have better anti surveince equipment and protocols than the military.


    Miceli shrugs. ¡®Unlikely, but not impossible.¡¯


    ¡®New surveince shit is getting developed all the time,¡¯ Angelo adds.


    Miceli closes the floor again, so it looks like the steel sheets are welded together.


    ¡®Fucking Irish.¡¯ This time it¡¯s Miceli who says it.


    He presses the button that will send powerful jets of chemically treated water across the floor, the metal chair and table we use for detainees, and over the walls. Leave no trace. We have thirty seconds to exit before it starts.


    Angelo and Miceli go first, to clear the room on the other side before I follow.


    ~ ~ ~


    The next morning, I call a meeting with my consigliere, Francesco Jni, Angelo, and my brother. Theye to my office on the 35th floor of the high-rise that belongs to famiglia¡¯s legit business front, Oscuro Enterprises.


    I sit behind my desk, answering the never-ending stream of emails I get as CEO, while my assistant ushers the three men in. Miceli and Francesco sit in the two chairs facing my desk. Angelo remains standing. He could pull another chair over, but I know he won¡¯t. Miceli lounges, but his casual demeanor is an act. He¡¯s rxed like I am. Never. Aware of everything around him.


    It¡¯s how our father trained us and the security team outside my office door doesn¡¯t diminish that awareness one iota.


    Francesco, on the other hand, sits straight up, his manner respectful, but about as alert as a sleeping spaniel. The consigliere I inherited from my father when I took over as don five years ago, he¡¯s twenty years my senior and damncent for a made man. He trusts his bodyguards and our security team to protect him.


    Though we have bodyguards, Miceli and I see them as backup, not the front line. Angelo is the same, if not more paranoid than us. He only sits down when social strictures absolutely require it. Even then, I¡¯ve yet to see him stay in his chair throughout an entire meal.


    I shut down my email and close myptop. ¡®We aren¡¯t waiting for those whiskey-soaked assholes to move in on me like they did Russo. We take the fucking war to them.¡¯


    Last night, I updated Francesco on the results of the interrogation.


    Miceli nods. ¡®I¡¯ll call a meeting.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t like that he didn¡¯t name his boss,¡¯ Angelo says.


    His words drop into the room like bomb. We all stare at him.


    ¡®He said he got his instructions from the mob,¡¯ Miceli says.


    ¡®But when we asked which boss, he never used Brogan Shaughnessy¡¯s name.¡¯


    The poor bastard had been nearly dead at that point, and he¡¯d just kept muttering, ¡®My boss. It was my boss.¡¯


    We all know who the biggest mob boss in New York City is, but Angelo¡¯s right, the Irishman didn¡¯t name him. ¡®You think he was from a different crew?¡¯


    Angelo shrugs. He¡¯s not prone to spection.


    ¡®There are several organizations that would benefit from a war between us and the Irish,¡¯ Francesco says. ¡®Waiting to strike back might be prudent as it¡¯s possible that is exactly whoever is behind these recent attacks wants us to do.¡¯


    I don¡¯t like waiting. It pisses me off, but that¡¯s why the man is my consigliere. He¡¯s supposed to give me smart counsel and I have to admit he could be right.


    ¡®We need to do some digging. Find out if Shaughnessy is looking to expand his territory.¡¯


    ¡®Domenico told me the I.D. we found on the Irishman is fake,¡¯ I tell them.


    It¡¯s not umon to carry fake I.D. when on a job. It can obfuscate even better than having no identification at all. But its presence could mean that Francesco¡¯s theory has merit. Angelo thinks something is shady and I trust his gut.


    I look at my brother. ¡®Get Domenico to run facial recognition on the Irishman.¡¯


    Domenico is my capo in charge of online moneyundering, but he has tech geniuses on his crew that do a lot of other stuff for the organization too.


    ¡®Talk to your contacts in the mob,¡¯ I say to Francesco. Besides respect for my father, I keep him as consigliere because he has built a lot of connections in his decades as a made man. ¡®Maybe they know if their boss is targeting us.¡¯


    Francesco¡¯s mouth tightens, but he nods. He doesn¡¯t like taking orders from me. Too bad. I¡¯m don.


    I look at Miceli. ¡®Order a full sweep for surveince equipment. Offices, meeting rooms, bars, restaurants. Anywhere our ns could be overheard.¡¯


    ¡®Consider it done.¡¯


    I nod. Then I look around the room, meeting each man¡¯s eyes before I say, ¡®It¡¯s not the Irish stirring up shit with my capos.¡¯


    There has been grumbling about lost revenue from the hit shipments, about stability in famiglia. Like I fucked up. Like I¡¯m weak.


    Francesco crosses his legs, trying to look more rxed, so I know whatevering out of his mouth isn¡¯t going to be something I like.


    ¡®What?¡¯ I growl.


    A Don has to have patience, not just power. But mine is on a knife edge ready to gut someone.


    ¡®You need to get married.¡¯


    It¡¯s not the fact that Francesco says it that pisses me off so much. It¡¯s that Miceli nods his agreement. Angelo¡¯s expression doesn¡¯t change.


    Again with this shit? ¡®Now is not the time.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re the youngest don in thest four generations,¡¯ Francesco says.


    Like I don¡¯t know. ¡®I am aware.¡¯


    ¡®Even so, you are thirty-five.¡¯


    ¡®So?¡¯


    ¡®You are don. You were born when your father was 30 and still an underboss.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯ve got time.¡¯ We¡¯re facing war with Irish mob and he wants me to worry about finding a wife?


    ¡®Like Pap¨¤ had time?¡¯ Miceli asks.


    Fuck.


    ¡®He was only sixty and if he¡¯d waited to have you until he was in his forties,¡¯ Miceli says, ¡®You would not have be boss after him.¡¯


    ¡®You sure about that?¡¯ I demand, but I don¡¯t let the rage I feel at being questioned like this, even by my brother, show on my face.


    A don does not show emotion, even anger, unless it is strategic to do so. I learned that before I learned to read.


    ¡®No, but it would have taken a lot more bloodshed. We would have lost strong capos.¡¯


    He was right. Even at 30, some of the capos had not wanted to follow me as their Don. I hadn¡¯t been forced to kill anyone we were better off keeping, though.


    Hell. Francesco is right. So is my brother. I don¡¯t want a wife, but I am The Genovese and I owe famiglia security. ¡®After I settle this shit with the Irish, I¡¯ll find a wife.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t think you should wait.¡¯


    ¡®Noted,¡¯ I say to Francesco, ice in my tone.


    Angelo¡¯s raspy voice sounds from his ce against the wall. ¡®I agree.¡¯


    My gaze snaps to him. ¡®Why?¡¯


    ¡®Timing.¡¯ Even for Angelo, that¡¯s a short answer.


    ¡®He¡¯s right,¡¯ Miceli says. ¡®This Irish thing might be moreplicated than we thought. Who the hell knows when we¡¯ll get it sorted. And when we do, it might lead to war.¡¯


    ¡®A wedding for their don will give famiglia something to celebrate, especially if we start losing soldiers.¡¯ Francesco clears his throat. ¡®It¡¯s about doing what¡¯s best for the famiglia. Being a don your capos can trust, not just to kill for them, but to provide security and continuity into the future.¡¯


    Every word out of my consigliere¡®s mouth increases my fury, but I rein it in. Because damned if he doesn¡¯t have a point. I don¡¯t want a wife, but it¡¯s not about what I want.


    ¡®Fucking hell.¡¯


    The other men in my office can take that for the concession it is.

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 3

    Las Vegas, Nevada


    Mancini Mafia


    GUILIA


    When I arrive at the casino, I head straight to the private elevator that services the office floors. I bring up the ess key on my phone and ce it in front of the reader before pressing the button for Raff¡¯s floor.


    ¡®I texted the boss and he¡¯s making time in his schedule for you in thirty minutes,¡¯ Lara says to me as we ascend to the 32nd floor.


    ¡®Hmm.¡¯


    The elevator doors open onto the impressive lobby with a man and a woman seated behind arge half oval shaped reception desk. Everything is modern elegance in here, including my husband¡¯s corner office.


    Even though the only ess to this floor is with an electronic key, like the one on my phone, there are still armed guards stationed in strategic locations.


    ¡®I¡¯m here to see my husband.¡¯ I yank off my cardigan, dropping it and my purse on the reception desk.


    ¡®He is in a mee¡ª¡¯


    I don¡¯t wait for the receptionist to finish, but storm past their desk and head for Raff¡¯s office.


    The door is locked. Of course.


    I don¡¯t let that deter me and pound on it. ¡®Raffaele Mancini, you had better open this door right the fuck now.¡¯


    My mother would be appalled, but that fiasco at the fertility clinic? That is so beyond okay, I don¡¯t have words. So, I pound again.


    ¡®Giulia¡­¡¯ Lara tugs at my upper arm. ¡®Come on.¡¯


    I put her on her back before and take only a second to enjoy the look of shock on her face before turning back to pound on the door again. We spar three times a week. Did she think all those martial arts lessons were for nothing?


    Lara jumps to her feet just as the door opens.


    His face a study in shock and fury, Raff stands on the other side. ¡®What are you doing, Giulia?¡¯


    I sweep past him, crossing therge expanse of his office and scramble up onto his desk. I whip my dress off and have my bra unsped before Raff can reach me. I yank the lingerie off just as he grabs me around the waist.


    I throw it. ¡®This is what you want isn¡¯t it? To take away my privacy and expose me to whoever!¡¯


    I don¡¯t even look at the people he is meeting with. My ire and attention are directed entirely on the son-of-a-bobcat I am married to.


    ¡®Get out!¡¯ he barks.


    I hear people moving.


    ¡®Funny how that didn¡¯t work when I told Dr. Hewitt and his minions to leave me alone.¡¯ I¡¯m so angry, my throat aches with the need to scream.


    Tears are burning at the back of my eyes, but I blink them back. I will not cry. Not right now.


    Raff¡¯s suit jacketes around my shoulders as his office door closes with a bang.


    He holds me near him with a grip on thepels of his jacket. ¡®Is there a reason you want me to have to gouge out the eyes of three of my top capos?¡¯


    ¡®They¡¯re your father¡¯s capos.¡¯


    He growls.


    I usually find that sexy. Right now, I just want to punch him. So, I do. Right in his rock-hard abs, which is what I can reach the way he¡¯s got me trapped close to his big body.


    Without much oomph behind it, he doesn¡¯t even grunt from the impact. But my hand stings.


    ¡®What the hell is wrong with you?¡¯ he demands.


    Raff is a full foot taller than my five-feet-three-inches. With his Italian good looks, chiseled features, and that sexy divot in his square chin, he¡¯s easily the most gorgeous man I have ever seen. Dark hair. Grey eyes that go molten when we are naked together. Sculpted muscles, including drool worthy eight-pack abs and a backside I could look at for days.


    All of it makes for a devastating package.


    Right now, his grey eyes burn into me like molten steel.


    I force myself to ignore my body¡¯s usual response to his closeness and that intensity in his gaze. Unfortunately, anger seems to heighten my reaction to him, not dim it.


    But my ovaries are not the boss of me.


    ¡®What is wrong with me?¡¯ I yell. ¡®You made an appointment with a fertility doctor without talking to me.¡¯


    ¡®Apparently you had an IUD inserted without talking to me.¡¯


    So, Lara can tell him that, but not tell me that I¡¯m on my way to a visit with a fertility specialist? My absolute belief that I am safe with my husband¡¯s people, but especially my personal security detail is shaken.


    And that hurts. It also makes me angrier.


    I shove against Raff¡¯s chest, but it¡¯s like trying to move a brick wall. ¡®Step back.¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯ He maneuvers me around his desk and sits down in his executive chair.


    Sleek ck leather and imposing in size, the three-thousand-dor chair is the equivalent of a modern throne. There¡¯s no doubt that the man who sits in this chairmands the room.


    Pulling me into hisp, he slides his hand inside his suit jacket and presses an arm around my naked waist. ¡®Talk to me, cara.¡¯


    ¡®Why? When you won¡¯t listen.¡¯ For six years, I¡¯ve convinced myself that the physical closeness is enough. That his need to touch me and the way I feel when he does makes our marriage strong.


    I¡¯ve been fooling myself.


    ¡®This. This is what is wrong.¡¯ I wave between the two of us. ¡®You sit here acting like you don¡¯t know why I¡¯m mad when I just told you¡­¡¯ I shake my head. ¡®Let me up. I don¡¯t want you to touch me right now.¡¯


    Eyes narrowed in anger, now widen and reflect pure shock.


    We¡¯ve been married more than a minute. Of course, we¡¯ve argued. Though I keep it under wraps most of the time, I do have an Italian temper. However, I have never before told him I don¡¯t want to be near him.


    In fact, sex is usually how we resolve most of our conflict.


    That is so far off the table right now, it might as well be in another country. No matter what my body wants. My mind and my heart are screaming in ord.


    I need distance. I shove off of hisp and he lets me go.


    ¡®I did not think you would be upset about the appointment.¡¯


    ¡®You were wrong.¡¯


    ¡®I see that. I didn¡¯t like you seeing a man, but he¡¯s the best.¡¯ Raff says this like I¡¯m supposed to give him points for allowing a male doctor examine me for the sake of supposed superior care.


    Yeah, not happening.


    ¡®So he told me.¡¯ I search the room and see where my branded after I tossed it.


    All I want to do is to get out of here, to get away from him and the knowledge I am not, and have never been, anything more than a body to ke his lust and a womb to carry his children.


    ¡®Newssh, a doctor who would treat a patient without her consent, who would try to sedate me to do so? That¡¯s not the best. That¡¯s a creep.¡¯

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 4

    Las Vegas, Nevada


    Mancini Mafia


    RAFFAELE


    My beautiful wife walks to where the bra she tossed is in a puddle of pinkce on the floor, herrge breasts swaying with each angry step. Damn, she turns me on when she¡¯s like this.


    ¡®He threatened to sedate you?¡¯ Lara didn¡¯t say anything about that in her text.


    While ack of chattiness can be an asset, sometimes the Marine trained bodyguard can be too taciturn.


    ¡®Why the heck do you think I shot Dolf?¡¯ my wife demands.


    She shot someone? What the fuck went down in that clinic? ¡®Who is Dolf?¡¯ And why did my gentle and proper wife feel the need to shoot him?


    ¡®I thought Lara texted you.¡¯


    ¡®Her text said your appointment didn¡¯t go well and that you wanted to talk to me. I thought you were upset by bad news.¡¯


    Her bra dangling from her hand, Giulia¡¯s brows furrow. ¡®Then how did you know about the IUD?¡¯


    ¡®Dr. Hewitt emailed me.¡¯ Along with a summary of the visit, that does not include shots fired, the email has a rmendation for a psychiatrist I do not mention.


    I assume the birth control somehow damaged my wife¡¯s ability to conceive. Dr. Hewitt believes she needs someone to help her work through that. Setting aside my personal disappointment at not having any more children with her, I am determined to be that person.


    Not some damn shrink.


    I had my admin reschedule everything on my calendar for the rest of the day, after my meeting with the capos. I hadn¡¯t expected Giulia in avenging Fury mode toe pounding on my office door.


    She slides her arms through the straps of her bra and pulls it up, covering her luscious tits and reaches behind to do the sp.


    ¡®Don¡¯t get dressed on my ount.¡¯ I let my eyes roam over her lust inducing curves.


    I cannot get enough of her fuller figure since giving birth to Neri. Her pillowy softness is as much of a turn-on for me as her tight, wet pussy.


    She ignores me and fastens her bra, hiding her mouth-watering tits from my gaze. Standing in my office in nothing but her ck bra and panties and vibrating with temper, my wife is fulfilling one of favorite sexual fantasies.


    ¡®We might as well take advantage of the free time in our schedules.¡¯ And this unexpected opportunity to live out that sexual fantasy. But as soon as I say the words, I realize they are the wrong ones.


    Giulia¡¯s body goes stiff and eyes that are shooting daggers at me once again glisten with moisture. Her temper is sexual kryptonite, but I hate seeing the hurt in those pretty brown depths.


    Okay. Talk first. Sex after.


    ¡®Tell me about this morning.¡¯


    Giulia doesn¡¯t start talking. That would be too easy. She goes hunting for her dress and then puts it on.


    ¡®Why did you strip in front of my capos?¡¯ I ask her. I get she was angry. Still is angry, apparently.


    But to reveal her body to my men?


    And they are my men as much as they are my father¡¯s. To be loyal to the don is to be loyal to me, his oldest son and underboss.


    But some capos are more loyal to me than others. Those men were three of them.


    My threat to gouge out their eyes wasn¡¯t hyperbole, however. But my men are smart. The second she climbed up on my desk, giving them a view up her skirt, they averted their eyes.


    She faces me defiantly. ¡®You didn¡¯t care about stripping me bare in front of that doctor.¡¯ Her tone is scathing when she says the word doctor.


    ¡®I did not strip you.¡¯ I knew I should have gone with a female specialist, but my father had been adamant that Dr. Hewitt was the best.


    The more the men look to me for leadership, the more my father seeks to show assert his authority in my life, not just famiglia¡¯s. I thought going with his suggestion for the specialist was an easy give.


    Clearly, I was wrong because my beautiful wife is upset.


    ¡®Didn¡¯t you?¡¯ she taunts.


    Giulia is not being literal. Damn it. There¡¯s no winning when her words mean something different than what she says.


    I try anyway. ¡®You believe me sending you to a specialist took something from you?¡¯


    ¡®Ding. Ding. Ding. Give that man a prize.¡¯ Her small hands are curled into fists at her sides and there¡¯s not one rxed muscle in her body. ¡®You should never have sent me to him. You are my husband, not my parent. And regardless, I am no longer a child.¡¯


    Telling her that my father insisted she seek fertility treatment is more likely to fan the mes of my wife¡¯s anger than douse them. Even if he is her don.


    We both know that I could have refused. I didn¡¯t. Assuming she was probably as concerned as I was by the fact she hadn¡¯t gotten pregnant again since Neri¡¯s birth, I went along with my father¡¯s suggestion.


    A miscalction on my part.


    Giulia believes my father is overbearing and too involved in our marriage. I¡¯ll do no favors reminding her he is only as involved as I allow him to be.


    Her father was a don in the Five Families and a very different man than mine. His death five years ago has nearly canonized Enzo De Luca in my wife¡¯s mind.


    ¡®I went first,¡¯ I tell her.


    She stares at me. ¡®What do you mean?¡¯


    ¡®I saw Dr. Hewitt first.¡¯ If the problem had been with me, then my wife would not have had to undergo any tests.


    ¡®To talk about me?¡¯


    ¡®To discuss potential reasons for theck a pregnancy since Neri when I thought we weren¡¯t using birth control.¡¯


    Not looking even a little guilty by that reminder, she just narrows her rich chocte gaze.


    ¡®He tested my sperm count.¡¯


    ¡®You gave him a sample of your semen?¡¯ she asks. ¡®How?¡¯


    ¡®I jacked off into a cup. Does it matter?¡¯


    ¡®No. I suppose not. Only, I find that really hard to picture.¡¯


    ¡®Maybe we should rectify that.¡¯ Not that I will use a cup, but the idea of having her eyes hot and needy on me while I jack myself has my already hard cock twitching.


    Her temper trips my switch every damn time.


    ¡®Sex doesn¡¯t solve everything.¡¯ Her ire detes, leaving behind a sadness I do not understand. ¡®You can get back to your meeting. I won¡¯t interrupt you again.¡¯


    Why do I hear ever¡­for anything echoing around us?


    ¡®Neither does barging into my office and stripping in front of my men. We both have our ways of coping.¡¯


    ¡®Fuck you, Raffaele.¡¯ Just that fast, she¡¯s pissed again. She skirts around me and grabs the door, but it doesn¡¯t open. ¡®Let me out.¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯


    She makes an adorably frustrated sound and spins to face me again. ¡®Stop with the games, Raffaele. You have work to do and so do I.¡¯


    ¡®I cleared my schedule for the rest of the afternoon.¡¯


    ¡®Well, I didn¡¯t.¡¯


    I just look at her. Does she really think I didn¡¯t have the foresight to text Janine on her behalf?


    Giulia makes a sound like steaming from a tea kettle. ¡®After everything else, you had the audacity to cancel my afternoon appointments?¡¯


    ¡®I am efficient that way.¡¯


    ¡®Damn it, Raff!¡¯


    At least she¡¯s calling me Raff and not Raffaele.


    ¡®Come and sit down with me.¡¯


    She storms over to one of the couches in the seating area that almost never gets used. I prefer to meet people from behind my desk.


    Our made men are not my colleagues. I am the underboss. The only man with more power than me in Las Vegas is my father, the don. The only time I use the couches by the window is on the rare asions my father or his consiglierese to my office.


    Even Giulia¡¯s brother, Miceli, sits in a chair facing my desk when hees to Vegas to discuss business. And like me, he is underboss. Their older brother, Severu, has been don since Enzo¡¯s death.


    As much as I would prefer to sit beside her, I don¡¯t. She didn¡¯t react well to me putting her on myp earlier. Though I did so because I thought she neededfort. Her telling me she didn¡¯t want me touching her makes it very clear that if she wantsfort, it is not from me.


    I don¡¯t like it. However, for now, I will respect her wishes.


    Her impromptu striptease still confuses me, but I now get it was motivated entirely by rage. At me.


    We sit in silence for a tense minute before she says, ¡®You¡¯re the one that won¡¯t let me leave until we talk. So, talk.¡¯ She waves her hand at me in ae-on gesture.


    ¡®You knew we expected you to have more children.¡¯


    ¡®We,¡¯ she derides. ¡®Is that we, you and your father? Or we, you and your parents?¡¯ She shakes her head. ¡®Only I have a hard time believing your mother cares one way or the other whether we have another child. She sees Neri less than my mom does.¡¯


    I cannot deny the truth. Aria lives in New York, but she visits several times a year and my wife goes back to New York at least once a quarter.


    ¡®My mother has yet to reconcile herself to being a grandmother.¡¯


    ¡®Neri is three years old. Do you think that is ever going to happen?¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯ Why sugarcoat it? Vi isn¡¯t maternal. Bing a grandparent did not change that.


    My son calls her Bea just like me and my brother.


    Aria De Luca is Neri¡¯s only real nonna.


    ¡®So, the Mancini family expects me to pop out babies like a brood mare.¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t pretend you didn¡¯t know that having children in the plural was part of the bargain.¡¯ Hell, our fathers had negotiated the point when Giulia and I were promised. I had been seventeen, but Giulia had still been a child of twelve. ¡®Even your sainted father agreed that you would bear a minimum of two children.¡¯


    ¡®He¡¯s not sainted.¡¯


    ¡®I was certain you thought he was.¡¯ She haspared our fathers too many times to count during our marriage.


    Mine never wins in theparison. Of course, he is alive and able to interfere in our lives¡­in her life. De facto, Patrizio Mancini will never be able topete with the dead don who by all ounts was both a good don and father.


    Patrizio is a good don.


    However, my uncle and nannies can take the credit for any real parenting my brother and I received growing up.


    ¡®You¡¯re being sacrilegious.¡¯


    ¡®And you are avoiding the point.¡¯


    ¡®Yes, I have always been aware that you and Patrizio expected me to carry more than one child.¡¯


    ¡®So?¡¯


    ¡®I have an appointment to have the IUD removed next month when Neri and I go to visit my mother.¡¯


    ¡®Why did you go on birth control?¡¯ And why not tell me about it?


    She looks at me like she can¡¯t believe I asked that. ¡®Do you even remember how hard my pregnancy with Neri was on my body?¡¯


    I remember how sexually hungry she was.


    After the first few months of debilitating morning sickness. That had been rough on her, but I hadn¡¯t been around much because we¡¯d been dealing with a bratva infestation in Reno.


    I¡¯m a hell of an exterminator. The Mancini family controls organized crime in Nevada, not just Vegas.


    Giulia had told my father that either someone else had to n the moneyundering charity events during her pregnancy or they had to be cancelled. She¡¯d also taken a lot of naps herst trimester.


    ¡®You didn¡¯t have your usual energy. I thought that was normal.¡¯


    ¡®Based on?¡¯


    I shrug. I am an expert on running our mafia. I am not an expert on pregnancy. ¡®If it wasn¡¯t, why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡¯


    ¡®My being unable to work for almost my entire pregnancy didn¡¯t clue you in?¡¯


    ¡®Vi doesn¡¯t work at all.¡¯


    My aunt had run the charity events before Giulia took over, and she still helps bring in big name celebrities.


    ¡®I am not your mother.¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯ That became even more obvious after our son¡¯s birth.


    While still running the gs with the precision of a general, my wife is nurturing and present in Neri¡¯s life.


    ¡®My OB said I should wait at least a year before getting pregnant again after Neri¡¯s birth,¡¯ Giulia says, like she has to force every word out.


    ¡®She said nothing to me.¡¯


    ¡®Wow, shocking,¡¯ my wife mocks. ¡®Only you are not her patient.¡¯


    I grit my teeth at her sarcasm, but right now I need information and the only way to get it is patience. I know my wife that well at least. Though clearly there are things about her that I am in the dark about.


    ¡®You didn¡¯t say anything either.¡¯


    ¡®We don¡¯t talk about stuff like that.¡¯


    ¡®Things like your health?¡¯ Okay, so my own sarcasm slips past my grip on my patience.


    She crosses her arms, lifting her gorgeous breasts into prominence. ¡®Yes, things like my health.¡¯


    ¡®I asked how you were doing every day when you were pregnant.¡¯ She¡¯d been carrying my child. ¡®And you told me you were fine.¡¯


    ¡®I was fine.¡¯


    ¡®No, you were not.¡¯


    She sighs. ¡®I didn¡¯t think you wanted a blow-by-blow of my fatigue, lower back pain and swollen ankles.¡¯


    ¡®You were wrong.¡¯


    ¡®Fine. I¡¯ll make sure and tell you every time I have to throw up and how often I have to pee and all the rest of it with the next pregnancy.¡¯


    Does she think that bothers me? ¡®Good.¡¯


    ¡®We¡¯ll see how good you think it is when it¡¯s happening.¡¯


    ¡®Bring it.¡¯


    ¡®You can be ridiculouslypetitive.¡¯


    ¡®It is notpetitive to want to be made aware when my wife is finding the side effects from pregnancy difficult to navigate.¡¯


    ¡®I never said they were hard to deal with, just hard on my body.¡¯


    ¡®Noted.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t want something like this morning happening again, Raff.¡¯ And we are back to what caused her toe pounding on my office door.


    ¡®Tell me about the appointment.¡¯


    ¡®Let¡¯s see, I arrived at the clinic believing I was going to see a doctor involved with heart research, but I was shown into an exam room and told to change into a gown. Do you have any idea how humiliating it was to realize you¡¯d made an appointment with a doctor for me without talking to me about it?¡¯


    ¡®It is my job to take care of you.¡¯


    ¡®Your idea of taking care of me is telling one of your men to do it.¡¯


    ¡®What the hell are you talking about?¡¯


    ¡®You abandoned me on our honeymoon and left guards to watch over me.¡¯


    I barely knew my wife when we married. I assumed it would make little difference to her enjoyment of Paris, if I was there, or not. ¡®You know I had to leave.¡¯


    ¡®When I am sick, you move into a guest room and the staff takes care of me,¡¯ she says as if I have not spoken.


    ¡®I check in on you nightly.¡¯ But I keep my distance and do it from the doorway because I cannot get sick.


    No weakness is tolerated in an underboss. Not even the flu. The few times I have been ill in my life, I have hidden it and soldiered on.


    Just as my father expected me to.


    ¡®What about your detached version of taking care of me would make me believe you want the nitty gritty details of my life?¡¯


    ¡®Going on birth control is hardly a tiny detail. You should have discussed it with me.¡¯ Damn it. I boxed myself into a corner with that one.


    ¡®You mean like you should have talked to me about visiting a fertility clinic?¡¯ she asks with sugary sweetness.


    ¡®In future, I will discuss it with you before making doctor¡¯s appointments for you.¡¯


    ¡®How about you discuss any medical concerns you may have in regard to my body with me and I will make whatever medical appointments I deem necessary.¡¯


    ¡®Agreed.¡¯


    ¡®Just think, if you¡¯d brought up your concerns to me, you could have avoided masturbating into a cup.¡¯

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 5

    Las Vegas, Nevada


    Mancini Mafia


    GIULIA


    The twist of my husband¡¯s lips lets me know just how distasteful he founding into a sample collector cup.


    Poor, beleaguered underboss. Not.


    At least no one tried to knock him out and take the sample against his will.


    ¡®My father has been bringing up yourck of pregnancy at least weekly since Neri turned one,¡¯ Raff points out.


    ¡®I am aware.¡¯


    ¡®You¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Do not pretend that if I¡¯d told him about the IUD, that would have shut him up. Patrizio would have insisted I have it removed.¡¯


    Raff inclines his head, making no attempt to deny it. ¡®He is your don.¡¯


    ¡®That doesn¡¯t give him the right to dictate when I get pregnant. This isn¡¯t the 1950s, not even in the mafia.¡¯


    ¡®I am your husband.¡¯


    ¡®Yes. And if you had brought it up to me, I would have told you about the birth control.¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t you think that as your husband, I should have been involved in the decision to use it in the first ce?¡¯


    ¡®No. Again, not the 1950s. But I would have told you about it, if I knew you were worried.¡¯ No one had been worried about me though, just whether or not I could not conceive again.


    ¡®So, you are saying this is all my fault?¡¯


    ¡®Has there been a single word out of my mouth since my arrival that would imply I think anything else?¡¯


    His face goes nk. I¡¯m facing the underboss and not my husband now. He¡¯s about to say something about duty and the mafia and it willcerate my already sore heart.


    ¡®Don¡¯t,¡¯ I say, trying to fight the hopeless pain leaking in at the edge of my fury.


    ¡®Do not what?¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t go underboss on me, right now, Raff.¡¯


    ¡®I am the underboss.¡¯


    ¡®You are also my husband.¡¯


    ¡®I have never denied it.¡¯


    ¡®If you are mad at me, just say so. But don¡¯t start yammering on about duty to famiglia. Don¡¯t shut me out.¡¯ Though thatst is more his default setting than not.


    ¡®I am pissed you are on birth control and didn¡¯t tell me.¡¯ For just a second, the nk mask slips and I know that by pissed he means raging. ¡®But ording to you, that¡¯s my fault.¡¯


    I shrug. If he¡¯s hoping I¡¯ll argue with him on that point, he¡¯ll be disappointed.


    Maybe I could have told him about the IUD, but no, I don¡¯t feel like I should have. I hadn¡¯t had a tubal ligation. I hadn¡¯t taken away the chance to have more children, just put it off.


    For the sake of both my physical and mental health.


    ¡®Aria would not have hidden something like that from Enzo. And he would have been furious if she had.¡¯


    He¡¯s right, but that¡¯s still a low blow. Also, not relevant to our marriage. ¡®My parents loved and trusted each other implicitly.¡¯


    ¡®Are you saying you don¡¯t trust me?¡¯ His deep tone is infused with outrage and disbelief.


    Of course, he ignores my reference to love, an emotion my controlled husband has no use for.


    Instead of firing back an automatic response to his question about trust, I take a moment to really think about it.


    An arrow of insight pierces me to the core.


    ¡®I thought I didn¡¯t tell you because you didn¡¯t need to know,¡¯ I exin. ¡®I wasn¡¯t putting off having more children indefinitely, just until I knew I could handle another pregnancy and what came after.¡¯


    I had believed I didn¡¯t feel the need to tell Raff about the IUD because of the emotional distance in our marriage. Which, yes, is something he fosters.


    When we first got married, I¡¯d been more than willing to build the kind of rtionship my parents had. I craved closeness with the man I¡¯d foolishly fallen in love with. Raff has made it clear he is not interested in me as anything but a convenient mafia wife, easy ess bed partner and baby maker.


    ¡®You thought?¡¯ he prompts.


    ¡®Yes, but you¡¯re right. I don¡¯t trust you.¡¯


    ¡®How the hell can you say that? I am your husband.¡¯


    ¡®But you are the mafia¡¯s underboss first. And your father¡¯s son second. Your role as my husbandes in a distant third, if that.¡¯


    ¡®You cannot tell me that Enzo put your mother ahead of his responsibilities as the don.¡¯ He doesn¡¯t mention the fact his role as sones ahead of being my husband.


    Raff probably sees it one and the same with being underboss and keeping his vow as a made man.


    ¡®If my father knew that pregnancy would risk Mamma¡¯s health after Severu was born, he would have suggested the birth control himself. And he would not have allowed her to go off of it unless he was absolutely sure the next pregnancy would not put her at risk.¡¯


    Even if that meant potential instability for famiglia.


    ¡®The key phrase there being if he knew, which I didn¡¯t because neither you, nor your OB told me you should wait a year after Nero.¡¯


    ¡®Even if my pregnancy hadn¡¯t been so exhausting, waiting at least a year to get pregnant again is not exactly rocket science.¡¯ All he had to do was show the slightest interest in me as a person, and not a baby making machine.


    ¡®My degree from Stanford is in business, not medicine, or engineering.¡¯


    The sarcasm is thick between us. So is the anger and once again mydy parts start sending all sorts of messages about how to resolve this argument.


    Doing my best to ignore them and remain rational, I say, ¡®You don¡¯t need a medical degree to Google why is my wife so tired during pregnancy. But first you have to actually care about said wife¡¯s welfare.¡¯


    ¡®I am not a mind reader. You should have said something to me.¡¯


    ¡®If one of your men was suddenly unable to do their job, wouldn¡¯t you ask why?¡¯


    ¡®I thought I knew why. You were pregnant.¡¯


    ¡®Lots of pregnant women can work. I avoided having to go on bedrest because I didn¡¯t.¡¯


    ¡®How the hell are you holding me ountable for not knowing what you did not tell me?¡¯ Raff sounds beyond exasperated.


    ¡®As long as I popped out a healthy baby, I didn¡¯t think it mattered to you.¡¯


    ¡®You believe I would have pressured you to get pregnant before you wanted to, before it was safe?¡¯


    ¡®Yes.¡¯


    ¡®That is bullshit.¡¯


    Iugh, though the sound is hollow. ¡®This morning proves the opposite.¡¯


    ¡®In what way does my concern about your health prove that I would willingly put it at risk?¡¯


    ¡®Because you weren¡¯t concerned about my health, only the viability of my reproductive system.¡¯


    ¡®They are one in the same.¡¯


    ¡®No, they are not.¡¯ The longer we talk, the more my fury dissipates and is reced by sorrow. ¡®There is no scenario in which you sending me to a fertility specialist without consulting me is an expression of concern for my wellbeing.¡¯


    ¡®Lara said the appointment did not go well. Since I now know that did not mean you got bad news, what does it mean?¡¯


    Good strategy. When you don¡¯t have argument to make, change the subject.


    Done with talking about what cannot be changed, I go with it. ¡®It was a disaster but my reasons for thinking so are probably not the same as Lara¡¯s.¡¯


    ¡®Tell me about yours.¡¯


    We¡¯ve already covered the ground about me not knowing why I was at the clinic and how humiliating that was.


    So, now, I tell him the rest. ¡®Lynne, that¡¯s the nurse who first showed me into the exam room, was rude. Dr. Hewitt was worse though. If I was a woman with fertility issues, he is thest doctor I would want to consult about it.¡¯


    ¡®He¡¯s supposed to be the best in his field.¡¯


    ¡®Oh, he told me. Dealing with him is an awfully high price for the chance to have a baby.¡¯


    ¡®What do you mean?¡¯


    ¡®His was arrogant, condescending and borderline psychotic. When I told him I was on birth control, he decided he would remove the IUD without my consent. When I argued, he told Lynne to sedate me and when I balked, he called in Dolph to hold me down.¡¯


    With every word I speak, the aura of menace around my husband grows. ¡®This Dolphid hands on you?¡¯ My husband¡¯s tone is chilling. ¡®Where the hell was Lara?¡¯


    ¡®My bodyguard was waiting outside the door, like the good little Mancinipdog she is.¡¯


    ¡®You are angry with Lara?¡¯


    He has to ask? Men! ¡®What was your first clue?¡¯


    ¡®You don¡¯t insult your security detail. Or anyone else.¡¯ He pauses. ¡®Except my father.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t insult Patrizio.¡¯


    Raff¡¯s right brow raises, calling me a liar.


    I sigh. ¡®I don¡¯t mean to disparage my father-inw.¡¯


    Unable to meet Raff¡¯s eyes after telling that whopper right after the first one, I look away.


    Sometimes I do mean to insult Patrizio. He¡¯s worse than autocratic. He¡¯s selfish and arrogant and unfeeling. I¡¯ve never seen him say one positive thing to either of his sons and he treats our son, Neri, like a not very interesting chess piece on the board of his life.


    My biggest fear since getting married is that my husband, for all his faults, will be more like his father. Raff can be an arrogant jerk. Case in point: this morning. However, he is a loving father, and he has never treated me like I¡¯m a brainless ornament, like his dad treats his mom sometimes.


    Patrizio may respect women as soldiers and treat then the same as his other made men, but mafia wives and mistresses are another category to him.


    When Raff doesn¡¯t say anything else, I continue. ¡®Anyway, I shot Dolph before he could touch me. Then I shot at Dr. Hewitt but missed him on purpose.¡¯


    I wait for my husband to tear into me about putting famiglia at risk with my actions.


    He asks, ¡®What happened after that?¡¯


    ¡®I got dressed and left.¡¯ Remembering a detail, I add, ¡®Oh, and Lara came crashing in after the first shot.¡¯


    Now Raff¡¯s eyes narrow and his jaw looks hewn from granite. ¡®You removed your clothes with all of them still in the room?¡¯


    ¡®The exam gown. I put my clothes back on.¡¯


    ¡®The doctor and his nurses saw you naked?¡¯


    ¡®I never removed my bra and panties,¡¯ I correct.


    ¡®Lara will lose a finger for this.¡¯


    ¡®You would punish her for your mistake?¡¯ That¡¯s something his father would do, but not Raff. At least I didn¡¯t think so. ¡®Lara didn¡¯t send me to that psycho doctor, you did.¡¯


    ¡®I did not tell Hewitt to touch you without your consent,¡¯ Raff grinds out.


    ¡®He thinks you did.¡¯


    ¡®A mistake he will regret.¡¯


    My husband¡¯s righteous wrath gives me pause.


    ¡®Was it you, or your dad, who made the appointment for me with Dr. Hewitt?¡¯ They never referred to my husband, just Mr. Mancini.


    For once, I have no trouble reading Raff¡¯s expression. To lie, or not?


    ¡®If you¡¯re going to lie to me, don¡¯t bother answering.¡¯ I jump up and head for the office door. I¡¯m done.


    What is the point of continuing this conversation? He doesn¡¯t think he did anything wrong. He¡¯s definitely not going to admit his father, the don, is out of bounds.


    His voice stops me halfway to the door. ¡®My father made the appointment, but I insisted on being seen first.¡¯


    ¡®How chivalrous of you.¡¯


    ¡®I thought so.¡¯ He¡¯s right behind me. ¡®Come back and sit down, cara. We are not done talking.¡¯


    ¡®I am.¡¯


    His handes around my waist, turning me to face him. ¡®Please.¡¯


    Has he ever said please to me before? If he has, I don¡¯t remember it.


    I nod, but step away from his touch. It¡¯s too distracting. Something filters through his gaze, but I¡¯m not sure what.


    I retrace my steps, but don¡¯t return to the couch. The view outside the floor to ceiling windows draws me to them. Vegas is in a constant state of flux with old casinos and other buildings being torn down to make room for the city nner¡¯s vision.


    Influenced in no small part by Patrizio Mancini.


    It¡¯s so different from New York and yet, there¡¯s an undeniable beauty in the Las Vegas skyline.


    I put my hand on the window, heat radiating through even the insted, bullet proof ss. ¡®If your father made the appointment, he probably did tell Dr. Hewitt to do whatever was necessary to get me pregnant, up to and including artificial insemination or IVF using that sperm sample you so helpfully provided.¡¯


    ¡®I will talk to my father.¡¯


    ¡®Do that. Because if I am ever put in a situation like that by him again, the nurse won¡¯t be the only person I shoot and I will be aiming to kill, not wound.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re fucking sexy when you go all Annie Oakley.¡¯


    Expecting censure for daring to threaten the don, Raff¡¯s words shock me.


    ¡®More Ma Barker surely.¡¯ At least she was a figure in organized crime.


    ¡®If you say so.¡¯ His big handsnd on my shoulders, providing morefort than such a simple, not overtly personal, touch should.


    As angry as I am, I need thatfort. Even though I wouldn¡¯t admit it to him under torture right now. But I don¡¯t move.


    ¡®Were you on birth control before Neri?¡¯ he asks.


    Ah, he¡¯s remembering the two years it took me to get pregnant after our wedding. Dr. Hewitt said that contributed to Mr. Mancini¡¯s (i.e. Raff¡¯s father) certainty something is wrong with mydy parts.


    ¡®Yes.¡¯


    ¡®An IUD?¡¯


    ¡®No. I used the imnt, but I didn¡¯t like the headaches or theck of libido.¡¯ I didn¡¯t even realize the effect it had on my sex drive until I had it removed a month after my father¡¯s death.


    I hoped bringing new life into my family would help all of us with our grief. It worked.


    The other benefits, besides getting pregnant, of having the imnt removed are that I no longer have daily headaches and I cannot get enough of physical intimacy with my husband. The sex is so much more intense than our first year of marriage.


    The IUD has none of the negative side effects for me that I experienced with the imnt. My OB told me that other women experience the opposite. Every woman¡¯s body is different.


    ¡®I thought you got pregnant because we were having more sex.¡¯


    Cause, meet effect. ¡®I¡¯m sure that helped.¡¯


    He turns me to face him and puts one hand under my chin to lift my head, so our eyes meet.


    His gaze searches mine. ¡®Why did you get the imnt? You knew everyone expected us to try immediately for a child.¡¯


    ¡®Not everyone. My mom didn¡¯t.¡¯ In fact, Mamma had been the one to suggest I go on birth control before the wedding.


    ¡®Aria knew?¡¯


    I nod, my chin sliding against his finger. ¡®Mamma was neen when she had Severu. She knew how hard it would be for me to find my footing among strangers in a new city while pregnant.¡¯


    Because that was exactly what she¡¯d had to go through.


    ¡®You wanted a chance to settle into Vegas before pregnancy hormones hit.¡¯


    Isn¡¯t that what I just said? I manage not to roll my eyes when I nod my agreement again. ¡®Besides, I wasn¡¯t ready to be a single mom at twenty-two.¡¯


    ¡®You are not a single parent.¡¯


    ¡®No, I¡¯m not. You¡¯re a lot more hands on with Neri than I expected.¡¯ Raff has always been moremitted to his role of dad than husband, but there is no way I could know he would be that way. ¡®I didn¡¯t know what to expect and what I did know about your dad didn¡¯t give me a lot of hope.¡¯


    ¡®I am not my father.¡¯


    ¡®Keep it that way.¡¯


    ¡®He is a strong don.¡¯


    ¡®One day, you will be too, but that doesn¡¯t mean you have to stop being a decent father.¡¯


    His thumbs brush up the column of my neck sending shivers of arousal down my arms. ¡®You have an appointment to remove the IUD when you go to New York next month?¡¯


    ¡®Yes.¡¯ I try to ignore the way my body is reacting to his nearness.


    You¡¯d think with all the experience I have doing that, I¡¯d be better at it. Six years married to a man who turns my crank just by being in the same room makes for a lot of practice not showing my sexual excitement in thepany of others.


    ¡®Thank you.¡¯


    My brows furrow. ¡®For what?¡¯


    ¡®For being willing to give me another child.¡¯


    ¡®Like you said, it¡¯s part of the agreement.¡¯


    ¡®You are too good of a mother to see our children as a means to an end.¡¯


    ¡®Which is why the timing of my pregnancies matter. I needed to know I could handle parenting Neri with my other responsibilities before adding to them.¡¯


    ¡®You don¡¯t have to run the gs.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s not what our don said.¡¯


    ¡®As you have pointed out, he is not your husband.¡¯


    Now he wants to take the stand that Patrizio¡¯s word isn¡¯tw in our marriage? When it¡¯s something I actually don¡¯t want?


    ¡®I like using my education,¡¯ I point out. ¡®Even though we¡¯re using the benefits tounder money, the mafia¡¯s take from them is no more than most charitable organizations¡¯ overhead costs. And each g finances important endeavors. It makes me feel good to be part of that.¡¯


    Sliding out from under his hands, I say, ¡®I think we¡¯ve hit our quota of talking for the month.¡¯


    Not one word of it has assuaged the pain in my chest at the knowledge that I¡¯m just a walking, breathing womb to the Mancinis.


    Needing some time to myself to process and put my game face back on, I go back over to the door. ¡®Can you unlock this for me? And I¡¯ll let you get back to work.¡¯


    ¡®Not just yet.¡¯ He¡¯s closer now. I can hear it in the nearness of his voice.


    But he moves like a darn shadow and it startles me when his hand covers mine on the doorknob.


    He tugs me around to face him. Molten grey eyes devour me. ¡®You stripped in front of medical staff, your bodyguard and my capos.¡¯


    I frown. ¡®I was angry.¡¯


    ¡®Yes.¡¯


    ¡®With good reason.¡¯


    ¡®Perhaps.¡¯


    ¡®So, unlock the door.¡¯


    ¡®We have one more item on the agenda.¡¯


    What agenda? ¡®This wasn¡¯t a nned meeting.¡¯


    ¡®You are not leaving without an undeniable reminder of who this delectable body belongs to.¡¯

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 6

    Las Vegas, Nevada


    Mancini Mafia


    RAFFAELE


    I¡¯m a damned Neanderthal when ites to my wife.


    She knows it. I know it. It¡¯s not changing.


    When she stripped in front of my capos, she knew there would be consequences.


    Lara will take care of the incident at the clinic, but I will take care of Giulia. Specifically, reminding her who she belongs to.


    I never should have listened to my father about sending her to Dr. Hewitt. But that is another problem I will handleter. Personally.


    ¡®I belong to myself, Raff.¡¯ She looks up at me, defiance burning in her chocte brown eyes.


    There is only one response for that bit of provocation. And I give it to her. Yanking her body into mine, I m my lips down over her saucy mouth.


    Her lips remain impassive under mine for nearly five full seconds, but as I run my tongue along the seam of them, she opens and kisses me back with angry passion. She bites my bottom lip, drawing blood.


    The copper tang coats our kiss as her tongue fights with mine for dominance.


    I grab her ass and lift, her legsing around my torso instantly, forcing her dress up and exposing her silk d pussy.


    Images of taking her against the door tempt me, but this is about more than getting off.


    I carry her to my desk, shoving everything off the surface with a wide arc of my arm. This is where she bared herself for my men. This is where I remind her that I am her husband.


    It only takes a second to unzip her dress and then I work it up her body, breaking the kiss only long enough to yank it over her head. She ms her mouth back to mine as I toss the dress to the side.


    Her bra is next and we don¡¯t have to stop mauling each other¡¯s mouths to get it off of her. As soon as her generous tits are naked, I squeeze them in both of my hands.


    They are so fucking soft and perfect. I y for long seconds as our kiss turns more carnal.


    She buries her fingers in my hair, yanking my hair to hold my head close. I revel in the small bite of pain.


    Then I pinch both of her nipples at once and she cries out into my mouth. Ever since her pregnancy with Neri, Giulia¡¯s nipples have been more sensitive. With enough patience, I can make here from breast y alone.


    But I have something else in mind for right now.


    I pull out the knife I keep in a sheath on my hip and cut both sides of her silk panties before yanking them from her body. Cupping her pussy, I slide my middle finger between her folds, finding slick wetness.


    No surprise there. Anger makes my wife horny.


    We¡¯re even. I¡¯m hard enough to drill through stone.


    I push my finger inside her silky tightness while brushing her swollen little clit with my thumb.


    Giulia moans and cants her hips. She wants toe, but I¡¯m not letting her do it on my fingers.


    Lowering her back onto the desk, I slide my mouth from hers and begin to lick and bite my way down to her pillowy mounds. She writhes on my fingers as I suck up a mark on the top swell of one breast.


    Her body is tensing in preparation to climax, and I pull my hand away.


    ¡®No! Don¡¯t stop. Damn it, Raff, I¡¯m so close.¡¯


    Lifting my head, I stare down at her flushed face. Sweat dews her forehead and her chest rises and falls with her rapid breaths.


    ¡®You are so beautiful like this wife.¡¯


    ¡®On the verge of killing you?¡¯


    I smile and dip my head to take one of her nipples into my mouth. Without any lead up, I suck hard and she screams, her body bowing again. I let go with a pop and thenve the turgid nub, soothing it.


    ¡®You bastard. You are doing this on purpose.¡¯


    ¡®What was your first clue?¡¯ I don¡¯t wait for her to answer but move to her other tit and give it the same treatment, stopping the stimtion she needs just before shees.


    She tries to shove her hand between us so she can touch herself, but I grab it. ¡®Uh uh uh.¡¯


    ¡®Damn it, Raff!¡¯


    ¡®Who do you belong to, wife?¡¯ I demand.


    She res and I kiss her red and swollen nipple. Softly.


    ¡®You! I belong to you!¡¯


    ¡®Good answer.¡¯


    I don¡¯t go back to her breasts but shift back so I¡¯m kneeling in front of the desk. Grabbing her ass, I pull her forward until her pussy is right in front of my face.


    ¡®Oh, Raff, please¡­¡¯


    I don¡¯t make her ask again. I feast on her, licking her cream and eating at her pussy until she¡¯s writhing against my mouth. I shove two fingers into her vagina at the same time I suck her clit between my lips and press against it with the hardened end of my tongue.


    She screams and her pussy mps around my fingers as her body tries to bow off the desk in ecstasy.


    I take her through aftershocks until she¡¯s begging me to stop. ¡®It¡¯s too much,¡¯ she gasps. ¡®Too sensitive.¡¯


    I smile. I¡¯ve just gotten started.


    Undoing my cks, I pull my hard cock out and shove it into her tight channel.


    She groans, her hands scrabbling at the desk edge, like she¡¯s trying to find something to hold onto.


    I grab them both and m them onto the desk by her head, my palms pressed against hers. Then I start to move, thrusting in and out of my wife¡¯s beautiful body over and over again.


    This time when shees, she sobs out her pleasure.


    Her inner muscles milk my cock and I go over with her, filling her with my seed and not caring that it cannot take root. I want her marked with my scent and my essence.


    My dick does not soften, and I pick my wife up, keeping our bodies connected as I carry her to the sofa I was sitting on earlier. I sit down with her straddling me and let my big hands roam over her small, silky body.


    When my finger dips between her ass cheeks, her head falls forward against my chest. ¡®Raff?¡¯


    It¡¯s not the first time I¡¯ve touched her little pink bud, but every time she has to settle into it. Knowing every part of her body is mine to explore makes me feel like a king. Her king.


    And she is my queen.


    ¡®Let me, dolcezza.¡¯


    ¡®Yes.¡¯


    I reach down further and spread ourbined cum over her silky soft flesh until her asshole is soaked with it, then I press my finger inside. Her sphincter tightens around it, and I wait until she rxes before I start moving in and out up to my second knuckle.


    Eventually she begins to move against me, fucking herself on my cock in her pussy and my finger in her ass.


    I cup her tit with my other hand and y with her nipple and her body moves jerkily, up and down and side to side as she seeks maximum stimtion.


    Thrusting up, I take control of the rhythm and drive her to a climax that goes on and on, her body contracting around mine for long seconds until I finally cannot hold back any longer and Ie inside her again.


    She goes boneless against me, my cock and finger still buried deep inside her.


    ¡®You are mine, dolcezza. Always.¡¯


    ¡®Yours,¡¯ she slurs and kisses my chest beforeying her head against it.


    Usually, she ims I am hers, just as possessive as I am. That she doesn¡¯t this time bothers me.


    So, I do it for her. ¡®As I am yours.¡¯


    ¡®Yes.¡¯


    It¡¯s enough.

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 7

    Las Vegas, Nevada


    Mancini Mafia


    GIULIA


    I¡¯m dozing in my husband¡¯s now (and finally) nakedp when his phone rings. I¡¯m not surprised when he answers it, but his tone makes me sit up in shock when I realize the person on the other end is his dad.


    ¡®None of your fucking business.¡¯


    His dad barks something.


    ¡®Leave it,¡¯ Raff ms back.


    His body tenses under me at whatever his dad says next.


    ¡®This is a family matter. As don you do not interfere between a husband and his wife.¡¯


    Oooh, no way does Patrizio like hearing that.


    I go to lift off of my husband, but his hand mps down on my hip and holds me in ce. ¡®Interfere between Giulia and me again, in any way, and you¡¯d better start training Fabrizio to take over as underboss.¡¯


    My lungs seize and I can¡¯t draw in a single breath of air. I can¡¯t believe what I¡¯m hearing.


    ¡®I don¡¯t have to leave the Cosa Nostra to leave you.¡¯


    Jerking upward, I stare in shock at my husband¡¯s harsh features. No matter how angry Patrizio is, it has got nothing on Raff¡¯s fury right now. He¡¯s a volcano ready to blow.


    ¡®He was going to fucking drug her and touch her!¡¯ Raff¡¯s shout makes my ears ring.


    But my heart soars. He is really pissed on my behalf. He screwed up not talking to me about the appointment but he would never have made it if he thought the doctor would not treat me with deference and respect.


    Dr. Hewitt¡¯s hubris and belief he could get away with sedating me is all on my father-inw. I¡¯m sure of it.


    ¡®When we have children is between me and Giulia. Stay the fuck out of it.¡¯


    Patrizio says something.


    ¡®No, I will not insist she has the IUD removed.¡¯


    I can¡¯t believe what I¡¯m hearing. Why doesn¡¯t he just tell his dad that I have an appointment to remove the birth control device?


    Or is Raff leveraging this situation on purpose for more independence from his father, the don? My husband can afford toy down thew with Patrizio when he already knows I¡¯m getting my IUD taken out in a couple of weeks. He¡¯ll get what he wants while maintaining a position of strength with his father.


    He and Fabrizio have such a different rtionship with their father than my brothers had with my dad.


    ¡®Get someone else to do it,¡¯ Raff says forcefully. ¡®I¡¯m taking the day off to spend with my wife.¡¯


    If I have a heart attack from shock right now, who will finish raising Neri? Because that is the first time in six years Raff has put spending time with me ahead of business.


    Raff hangs up and tosses his phone on the low table near the sofa. ¡®Put your dress back on.¡¯


    ¡®I thought you weren¡¯t leaving.¡¯ I knew it was too good to be true.


    Not that I can me my husband. He cannot refuse a direct order from his don without serious consequences. Even I¡¯m careful how I subvert my father-inw¡¯s directives. Mostly, I avoid directmunication when at all possible with my don.


    ¡®We are leaving. I¡¯m not near done with you, but my ass is sticking to this leather. I¡¯ll arrange for a suite for us.¡¯


    We¡¯re going to a suite? To make love some more?


    We don¡¯t just spend the rest of the afternoon exhausting each other¡¯s bodies, but the evening and the entire night. Raff answers his phone a couple of times, but he never leaves to take care of business.


    We don¡¯t do a lot of talking, but I¡¯m notining when my vocal chords get a work out screaming from multiple orgasms.


    ~ ~ ~


    A week after the doctor appointment debacle and subsequent sexfest with Raff, I am packing for my uing trip to New York with Neri. We both need warmer clothes than we wear in Las Vegas.


    My phone dings and I check the text. It¡¯s from Raff.


    He sent me a link that leads to an article about the tragic death of a well-known local fertility specialist. Apparently, Dr. Hewitt died of an unexpected heart attack.


    Chills run up the back of my legs. I should have expected this. I¡¯m not sure why I didn¡¯t.


    Raff isn¡¯t just protective, he is over the top possessive too.


    Ever since I stormed into his office and we spent the rest of the day and night together naked, Raff has been even more insatiable than usual. He ims my body over and over again, both physically and verbally. It¡¯s hot and sometimes a little overwhelming, but still, yeah¡­really hot.


    He¡¯s always a little extra attentive in the bedroom before and after one of my trips to NY, but this past week he¡¯s been downright insatiable.


    I didn¡¯t connect it to what happened with Dr. Hewitt though. Or realize Raff¡¯s response would be so permanent.


    After how he told his dad off like I never in a million years thought he would, I should have known Dr. Hewitt¡¯s days were numbered.


    I¡¯m not sure how I feel about his death. I can¡¯t help thinking I¡¯m not the only female patient Dr. Hewitt treated like a walking womb, but did he deserve to die for it?


    Clearly my husband thinks he did.


    In Raff¡¯s world, justice is dispensed by the mafia, not the authorities and usually with some level of violence.


    I call my husband.


    He picks up on the first ring.


    ¡®Was it you?¡¯


    ¡®What do you think?¡¯


    I think Raff has a very medieval outlook sometimes. ¡®I purposefully didn¡¯t hit a vital organ when I shot Dolf,¡¯ I say.


    Our phones are encrypted, but even so, I probably shouldn¡¯t be talking about shooting people.


    ¡®You have very good aim,¡¯ my husband acknowledges.


    ¡®That¡¯s not the point.¡¯


    ¡®No?¡¯


    ¡®He and Lynne don¡¯t deserve to die.¡¯


    ¡®Are you sure about that? Because I am not.¡¯


    I knew it. ¡®Please, Raff, don¡¯t do anything rash.¡¯


    ¡®I am not a reckless man.¡¯


    ¡®Not usually.¡¯


    ¡®Not ever.¡¯


    ¡®You took an entire day off from work and told your don to find someone else to do whatever it was he wanted you to do.¡¯


    ¡®I had more important things to do.¡¯


    Sex. He never considered it a top priority before.


    ¡®Are you packed for your trip?¡¯ he asks when I don¡¯t say anything more.


    ¡®Working on it.¡¯


    ¡®How long will you be gone?¡¯


    He already knows the answer to that question, but I tell him anyway. ¡®Two weeks.¡¯


    ¡®Your trips to New York are growing longer.¡¯


    ¡®No, they aren¡¯t.¡¯


    ¡®You used to be gone for only a week.¡¯


    I roll my eyes, though he can¡¯t see it. ¡®This visit issting two weeks so I can get to know my brother¡¯s intended bride and help with the wedding preparations.¡¯


    My oldest brother has decided to get married and in typical Severu fashion, has given my mother and the bride three months to n a wedding with hundreds of guests. I¡¯m not sure the bride even realizes she¡¯s getting married yet.


    Mamma said the dinner we are attending is the first time she¡¯ll officially be meeting Carlotta Jni.


    ¡®I would prefer you kept it to a week.¡¯


    ¡®And I would prefer that Dolf and Lynne did not die in the near future, or ever at your hand.¡¯


    ¡®If I agree, will you return home next weekend?¡¯


    He¡¯s negotiating. With the lives of two sort-of innocent people.


    ¡®That is not fair. You know my family needs me.¡¯


    ¡®I am your family.¡¯


    My brow furrows. ¡®Is something wrong, Raff?¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯


    ¡®Are you sure?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t like how frequently you travel to New York.¡¯


    It¡¯s the first time he¡¯sined about it. Well, not really. He always says he thinks I¡¯m going to be gone too long. He gets downright grumpy before the annual month long visit I make in August.


    With the exception of thest trimester of my pregnancy with Neri, I¡¯ve been making four trips a year to see them since we got married. And he¡¯s never before told me I go to see my mom and brothers too often.


    ¡®I know going without sex for two weeks is a challenge for you¡­¡¯ I let my voice trail off teasingly as my heart squeezes.


    I assume my husband remains celibate while I am out of town, but fidelity in a mafia marriage is not a given.


    ¡®I don¡¯t just miss sex, amate. I miss you.¡¯


    My heart skips a beat. He calls me cara, darling. Not amate, beloved. It¡¯s a typical Italian endearment and doesn¡¯t necessarily mean he has feelings that he¡¯s never given voice to. Like love.


    But it feels significant.


    My knees wobble and I sit down on the bed with a thump.


    ¡®Don¡¯t you miss me when you are gone?¡¯ he asks sounding almost like a petnt child.


    ¡®You know I do.¡¯


    ¡®Do I?¡¯


    ¡®What is this about, Raff?¡¯


    ¡®If you missed me, you wouldn¡¯t leave Las Vegas so often and take our son with you.¡¯


    Oh. This is about me taking Neri away.


    ¡®He enjoys his time with his nonna and uncles.¡¯


    ¡®I know he does.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m sorry you miss our son, but if I left him here, he would spend more time with the nanny than you.¡¯ Raff is a good father and way more present in Neri¡¯s life than I expected from his parents¡¯ example, but he is still a mafia underboss and busy CEO.


    His hours away from our home exceed his hours here by many.


    ¡®I think it would be hard on Neri to be away from me for that long,¡¯ I add.


    ¡®Of course, it would. He¡¯s a young boy. It is hard on me having you gone for a week and I am an adult.¡¯


    ¡®Now, you are just being dramatic. Hard on you?¡¯ I scoff.


    ¡®You find that difficult to believe?¡¯ he asks, his tone almost angry. ¡®Maybe because it is not hard on you.¡¯


    ¡®Seriously, Raff, what is this about?¡¯


    ¡®Do you remember who that tight pussy belongs to when you are in New York?¡¯


    ¡®My body belongs to me,¡¯ I assure him. Though we both know that¡¯s only part of the truth.


    I do belong to him. I only wish I was as confident that he truly belonged to me.


    ¡®What you are really asking is if I let another man touch me and that is insulting.¡¯ If deep down, I am also just a little bit thrilled by his jealousy, I¡¯m not admitting it out loud.


    That¡¯s for sure.


    ¡®I apologize. I know you have too much honor to desecrate your wedding vows.¡¯


    ¡®Desecrate. That¡¯s a serious word. Can I assume you also have too much honor to desecrate your wedding vows?¡¯


    ¡®I am no cheater.¡¯ His voice is just bursting with affront.


    ¡®Neither am I.¡¯


    ¡®I know. I should not have asked that.¡¯


    ¡®Are you admitting to a mistake? Only it¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve ever known you to do that.¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t be so gleeful. I can admit when I am wrong.¡¯


    ¡®When have you ever?¡¯


    ¡®I do not recall, but if I had been wrong, I would have admitted it.¡¯


    I want to tease him and say that is a lie, but the arrogant man would just say he is never wrong. Except, he just admitted he¡¯d made a mistake asking what he had.


    Which touches me way more deeply than it should, and I find myself saying, ¡®The only man I want is you, Raff.¡¯


    ¡®I crave you like a drowning man craves air.¡¯


    I gasp, hating that this conversation is happening over the phone and not in person. I want to touch my husband so badly right now, it physically hurts that I can¡¯t.


    And I won¡¯t see him again for two full weeks.


    Neri and I will be flying out on the Mancini jet before Raff gets home from work. I prefer to travel in the evenings with my son, eating our dinner on the ne.


    My rambunctious boy is not quite so energetic then as during the day. He will fall asleep about an hour before we arrive and won¡¯t wake on the transfer to my family¡¯s home in the top three stories of an Art Deco building in Manhattan. Since it is three hourster in New York, letting Neri sleep through until morning helps him to adjust to the time change more quickly.


    ¡®Text me when you arrive in New York and call me before you go to bed.¡¯


    ¡®Alright.¡¯


    ¡®Be safe.¡¯


    ¡®You too.¡¯ I think my admonishment is more needed.


    My husband¡¯s life is saturated with violence. Inparison, a flight on a well-maintained private jet represents no risk at all.

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 8

    New York City, New York


    Five Families


    CATALINA


    Pap¨¤ is beside himself. The don ising for dinner.


    I don¡¯t understand why my father is so happy. As Severu De Luca¡¯s consigliere, he has dined with the don many times. Don De Luca has been to our home as well, though this is the first time he ising to dine with us.


    All of us. Pap¨¤, my Zia Lora, Zio Giovi, Carlotta and me.


    Zia is my father¡¯s widowed sister and she¡¯s lived with us since mamma died. She and Zio Giovi came for the funeral and never left. I like Zio Giovi. He is kind. He¡¯s much older than Zia though, his hair more silver and his face more lined than pap¨¤¡¯s.


    Zia¡¯s full name is Madonna Candelora, like mine is Madonna Catalina and my sister is Madonna Carlotta.


    It¡¯s Jni family tradition to name the girls Madonna and use our middle names when speaking.


    Zia shortens her name to Lora and mine to Lina. Zio calls me tesorina, even though I am twenty-five. Carlotta calls me soru, sister. Pap¨¤ doesn¡¯t use my name. He prefers other epitaphs.


    I check the table again, to make sure everything is right. Using the hem of my t-shirt, I rub at a small smudge, so nothing mars the sheen of the dark wood table. The runner down the middle and the cemats are from my mother¡¯s wedding trunk. They are all hand tatted Siciliance, sent to her by family in the Old Country.


    In the center of the table is arge bouquet of flowers arranged in Zia Lora¡¯s favorite crystal vase with matching crystal candbras on either side. They catch the light from the chandelier and sparkle.


    I make sure all the tware gleams, without any spots of tarnish on the silver. The nearly hundred-year-old hand painted ceramic dishes are from my father¡¯s side of the family. His great grandmother brought the original set over from Sicily.


    Everything is set for a formal dinner and even though Zia is cooking, when the timees, maids will serve the food.


    Zia Lora, tall and slim like most of the Jnis,es bustling in, her face creased in a smile. ¡®This looks lovely, Lina, but it is time you got yourself ready.¡¯


    ¡®Are you sure you don¡¯t need me to do anything else?¡¯ I ask.


    ¡®No, no, you do not have time. Your sister went up to dress an hour ago.¡¯


    My sister is considered the most beautiful mafia princess on the East Coast, maybe in the whole country. Pap¨¤ has been receiving offers for her hand since she was twelve years old. In the Cosa Nostra, mafia princesses can be promised from any age, though the formal engagement is never announced before they are sixteen.


    With the same build and dark brown hair as Zia Lora, Carlotta also has amber eyes and perfectly symmetrical features. Wherever she goes, she turns heads. First it was always, ¡®What a beautiful child,¡¯ then ¡®What a beautiful girl,¡¯ and now they say, ¡®What a beautiful woman.¡¯


    At neen and six years younger than me, I know my sister is a woman, but I still think of her as a girl.


    Pap¨¤ has refused to arrange a marriage for her; he is holding out for someone powerful.


    Like the don? Is that why he ising for dinner? Is he going to make an offer for my sister?


    As pap¨¤ likes to point out, though I was born into the mafia, I am no princess. I will probably never marry, though when I say that to Zia Lora, she gets upset. But pap¨¤ has no desire to arrange a marriage for me.


    Because I know the truth.


    If he gives my hand to someone with integrity, I might tell my husband my father¡¯s shameful secret and pap¨¤ would be removed as consiglieri. If he gives me to someone like himself, I might tell that man too, but then my husband would have leverage over my father.


    One day, my father might kill me, like he did my mother, but he won¡¯t risk giving my hand in marriage so I can tell others what I know.


    I walk upstairs, keeping a steady pace. If I don¡¯t try to rush, I won¡¯t limp. Sometimes, no matter how slowly I walk, I cannot hide that I am defective, as Pap¨¤ calls me, though.


    Is defective the right word? My right leg is shorter than my left because of the fall I took down the stairs, the same day as Mamma. Isn¡¯t that wounded, not defective?


    Pap¨¤ thought we were both dead that day. I¡¯m sure of it. But he was wrong. I lived. And I remember.


    Carlottaes rushing up as I reach the hall outside my bedroom. ¡®You aren¡¯t dressed yet. soru, you must change now. There¡¯s barely time to do your hair and makeup.¡¯


    ¡®Brushing my hair will only take seconds and I don¡¯t wear makeup,¡¯ I remind my glowing sister.


    Carlotta is wearing a soft pink dress by one of her favorite designers. Her luxurious dark brown curls are brushed to a sheen that falls like silk down her back. Her nude heels add four inches to her already above average height, making her tower over my own five-feet-three-inches.


    She might be only neen, but she looks as regal as a queen.


    ¡®You look wonderful,¡¯ I tell her as we walk to my bedroom.


    Carlotta¡¯s pretty lips twist in a moue of discontent. ¡®I don¡¯t like all these pastel colors. I would look so much better in red.¡¯


    With her darker coloring, she¡¯s absolutely right. But red is not a color for an unmarried mafia princess still in her teens.


    ¡®Once you¡¯re married, I¡¯m sure your husband will buy you dozens of red dresses.¡¯ Who wouldn¡¯t want to spoil my sister?


    She is not only beautiful, but she is sweet natured, if a tad selfish, but that is not her fault. She isn¡¯t just a mafia princess, she is the princess of our family. Everyone loves her. Even our father.


    ¡®I don¡¯t want to have to get married to wear colors like red and¡­and ck.¡¯ Carlotta¡¯s tone is filled with discontent.


    It worries me. ¡®ck is the color of mourning.¡¯


    ¡®Not in the real world, it¡¯s not.¡¯


    Carlotta talks like everything outside famiglia is the real world. She thinks the traditions and the culture of the mafia are antiquated and unrealistic.


    In some respects, I agree with her. The prospect of living the rest of my life under Pap¨¤¡¯s roof, simply because I am unmarried, fills me with dread. It¡¯s supposedly for my safety, but I am in more danger here than if I lived on my own. I¡¯d much rather get a job and support myself, but he¡¯ll never allow that.


    Running away would be considered betrayal. Betrayal to famiglia can be punished by death. I¡¯m not ready to die, so I don¡¯t run away. Not yet anyway.


    I have ns, ns I can¡¯t even tell Carlotta because once I implement them, I¡¯ll never see her, my aunt or my uncle again. Most importantly, I¡¯ll never have to see my father again and I will be able to stop wondering if today is the day he is going to kill me.


    When I run, I¡¯ll have what I need to make sure I will never be found.


    ¡®Please do not mention the real world as you call it at dinner,¡¯ I implore my sister.


    ¡®Of course, I won¡¯t. I never tell Pap¨¤ what I really think of mafia life. It would hurt him.¡¯


    Hurt him? I¡¯m not sure. But it certainly would make him angry. And when he gets angry, it is never my sweet, sunny sister who he takes his ire out on.


    It is me. Whether it is because I look like Mamma and not a Jni, or because I know his secret, my father despises me.


    At five foot three, with more padding on my curves than Carlotta will ever have, I am the spitting image of our mother. At least before the stic surgery, the incessant diets and the blonde highlights my father insisted on.


    Pap¨¤ even made her wear contacts that turned her hazel eyes green. Trying to make her into the image of the woman he¡¯d wanted to marry when he¡¯d been forced to settle for my mom.


    I push away the unhappy memories of the past. ¡®What do you think I should wear?¡¯ I ask my sister.


    She grins and eagerly opens the door to my wardrobe. There is no closet in my bedroom because it is part of the original house, built over 150 years ago. It¡¯s a small bedroom too, but I don¡¯t mind. It has its advantages. Like a firece and being far away from my father¡¯s suite.


    After perusing my dresses, yanking hangers this way and that, Carlotta¡¯s grin turns into a frown. ¡®Don¡¯t you have a single decent dress?¡¯


    I¡¯m not the clothes horse that my sister is. I don¡¯t care about designerbels or wearing thetest fashions. Most of my dresses are at least two years old. Not because pap¨¤ doesn¡¯t give me a clothing allowance. His pride would not allow that.


    It is because I¡¯ve been buying designer clothes and returning them for the past three years, putting the money I get back in my runaway fund kept hidden in my room.


    Pap¨¤ doesn¡¯t notice myck of fashion. Carlotta does.


    ¡®Where¡¯s that dress we bought when we were out shoppingst week? It looked amazing on you.¡¯


    I wave my hand dismissively. ¡®I didn¡¯t like it and took it back.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯d never know you were so picky looking at the state of your wardrobe,¡¯ she says repressively. She grabs the navy chiffon skirt I wore to my cousin¡¯s wedding a couple of years ago and hands it to me. ¡®Hold this. I¡¯ve got a top that¡¯s perfect for it.¡¯


    ¡®None of your blouses will fit me,¡¯ I warn her.


    Carlotta gives me a mischievous smile. ¡®Well, it won¡¯t fit the same, that¡¯s for sure. It¡¯ll show off your girls.¡¯


    I instinctively cross my arms over my generous breasts. ¡®I don¡¯t want my boobs on disy, thank you.¡¯


    ¡®Do you really think I have anything that would put them on actual disy? I¡¯m not allowed plunging necklines. I¡¯m too young.¡¯ Her tone makes it clear what she thinks of that.


    Carlotta is gone only a few minutes before shees back with a white silk blouse and I breathe a sigh of relief. Until I have it on. It¡¯s sleeveless, which I don¡¯t mind so much. Pap¨¤ isn¡¯t stingy with the heating.


    The soft cowl neckline is not at all provocative, but the silk must have some spandex in it because it¡¯s stretchy, clinging to my curves. Once I have the skirt on, my waist looks tiny, but my chest and hips look even bigger than normal.


    When Iin, Carlotta assures me that I look great. Knowing no one¡¯s attention is going to be on me at the dinner, I decide it¡¯s not worth the argument with my sister to change into something else. I put on a pair of navy blue ballet ts.


    I don¡¯t wear heels. Walking in them makes my hip ache like really, really.


    Carlotta insists on putting my mousy brown hair up in a messy bun leaving tendrils to curl around my heart shaped face, but I put my foot down when she wants to put makeup on me.


    I don¡¯t have to imagine what Pap¨¤ would say. Thest time I wore make up, he shook his head and asked of no one in particr, ¡®What¡¯s the point of gilding a turnip? It still looks round and like it was grown in the dirt.¡¯


    I knew he was talking about me. I didn¡¯t let it make me cry though. I don¡¯t let him see me cry at all anymore.


    We run into Zia Loraing out of her room and she stops to look at us. ¡®Don¡¯t you both look lovely?¡¯ She cocks her head to one side looking at me. ¡®Wait, I think I have a pair of earrings for you.¡¯


    She rushes back to her room and is back only momentster with a pair of teardrop pearl earrings in her hand. ¡®Put these on.¡¯


    So, I go down to dinner wearing my aunt¡¯s earrings and my sister¡¯s blouse.


    ¡®At least my underwear are my own,¡¯ I grumble.


    My aunt and sisterugh.


    Zio Giovies down the hall. ¡®I see I have three gorgeous women to escort to dinner,¡¯ he says gantly, putting his arm out for Zia to take.


    Carlotta and I take each other¡¯s hand and follow them. My sister¡¯s palm is sweaty and I realize she¡¯s perfectly aware of what this dinner might mean. She¡¯s nervous and I don¡¯t me her. It¡¯s not every day a dones looking for a wife.


    We reach the foyer and Pap¨¤ points to his side. ¡®Come here, Madonna Carlotta. You will stand with me to greet the don.¡¯


    ¡®Both of your daughters should stand with you,¡¯ Zia Lora says, her voice filled with censure. ¡®What will Don De Luca think of you otherwise? That you are ashamed of one of your daughters?¡¯


    While it might be true, my father¡¯s pride would never allow him to reveal that truth to someone outside the family, particrly his boss.


    He glowers, but nods. ¡®You stand beside your sister. It will give Severu aparison that will highlight what a diamond my princess is.¡¯


    Carlotta frowns, but soon her expression clears. I do not show any reaction to Pap¨¤¡¯s stingingment. Starve a bully of his attention and he will grow tired of tormenting you. That¡¯s the idea, anyway.


    Zia Lora clicks her tongue. ¡®You have two lovely daughters, Francesco.¡¯


    ¡®The Don will be spoiled for choice,¡¯ Zio Giovi says with a warm smile directed at both myself and Carlotta.


    Pap¨¤ just harrumphs.


    ¡®We will wait for you in the drawing room,¡¯ Zia Lora says before she and Zio turn to go.


    After a couple minutes of silence, Carlotta asks, ¡®Is the don reallying because he¡¯s thinking of marrying me?¡¯


    ¡®Do not be so forward stellina,¡¯ Pap¨¤ chides. ¡®That is not a question you should ask.¡¯


    ¡®I shouldn¡¯t?¡¯ My sister sounds na?ve, but I can hear the undertone of frustration in her words. ¡®Isn¡¯t it my life?¡¯


    Our father takes her hand and pats it. ¡®It is not something for you to worry about. I will see to your future.¡¯


    Carlotta¡¯s features tighten for just a moment and then they smooth into cid sweetness again. My sister is not as epting of our father¡¯s pronouncements as he believes.


    The doorbell rings. A maid answers and leads not only the don, but his mother, brother, and sister toward us. The don¡¯s bodyguards take up unobtrusive positions in the hall. One remains by the front door. All are alert and serious.


    I¡¯ve had glimpses of the don before, from a distance when he was let into our house and when he was leaving. I have never actually spoken to him though. Unlike Carlotta, my father has never taken me to a social gathering where I might meet Severu De Luca in person. Not as his father¡¯s underboss, nor as the don he has been for the past five years.


    This close, he takes my breath away. Don De Luca stands more than a head taller than my father¡¯s five-feet-ten-inches. The don has a muscr, broad chest that makes his upper body look like a V. The cks of his bespoke suit hint at long, muscled legs. It isn¡¯t merely his size that fills the space around him though; it is his unmistakable aura of power.


    His gaze traps mine and I cannot look away even though I know I should.


    He¡¯s 35, but there are no smile lines around his eyes or mouth. His brown eyes eerily reflect no emotion at all. Not eagerness to spend time with his potential bride, not pleasure in his consigliere¡®spany. Nothing. His masculine lips do not crease in a smile of greeting. Dangerous and intimidating, it feels like he¡¯s on alert for any source of danger despite being in the home of a trusted associate.


    My father, who has always been the greatest threat in my existence, appears diminished in the dominant presence of his don.


    Unbelievably, my vagina, which has been silent for twenty-five years, decides to wake up. It looks at the terrifying head of the Genovese Family and says, ¡®Yes, I want that.¡¯


    I feel a sensation between my legs I have never experienced before. A feeling of emptiness that needs to be filled. Heat suffuses my body, making the drafty foyer feel suffocatingly warm.


    In that moment, I realize that I have figured out the timing for my exodus from my precarious life. I¡¯m running away the day after my sister¡¯s wedding. I¡¯ll leave my father¡¯s house right after Carlotta does.


    My reaction to the don isn¡¯t just shocking. It¡¯s embarrassing. If I don¡¯t get it under control before they are engaged, it will be a betrayal of my sister too. I cannot lust after her fianc¨¦, much less her husband. That is just wrong.


    I may not be a made man, but I am Cosa Nostra. I have a sense of honor and I won¡¯tpromise it.


    Not even if my ovaries are sending up fireworks and cymbals are crashing in my vagina for the first time in my life.


    I am not a sexual person. I¡¯m not ignorant. I considered the possibility I preferred women, but my body reacts to no one. I am simply sexually inert.


    Until this moment.


    I break my gaze from the don, the man who is one thousand percent off limits and force myself to take in his brother. They look alike. Dark brown eyes, ck hair, huge and muscr. But my vagina just yawns and goes back to sleep when my eyesnd on Miceli De Luca.


    Carlotta doesn¡¯t seem to be under the don¡¯s spell like I am. She gives a barely there smile and greets him and his family demurely, but she doesn¡¯t offer her hand.


    Pap¨¤ frowns but covers it up with forced bonhomie. ¡®Severu, you remember my daughter, Carlotta.¡¯


    ¡®And this must be your oldest daughter,¡¯ Signora De Luca says with a warm smile after my father neglects to introduce me. ¡®Madonna Catalina, isn¡¯t it? We have not met.¡¯


    She¡¯s beautiful. Though I know Aria De Luca is in her fifties, with her golden blonde hair and unlined face, she looks like she could be the don¡¯s older sister, rather than his mother. As well as their dark hair, her children must have gotten their brown eyes from their father. Hers are green.


    ¡®Please, call me Catalina.¡¯


    ¡®And you may call me Aria.¡¯ She offers her hand and I shake it as the fragrance of rose, jasmine, vani and just a hint of citrus wafts around us.


    I know it well. It was my mother¡¯s perfume and I keep a bottle to spray on my pillow when I need thefort to fall asleep.


    Choking back unexpected emotion, I say, ¡®Wee to our home.¡¯ I can¡¯t make myself use her name and still think of her as Signora De Luca in my head. I am almost as awed by this elegant woman as I am intimidated by her powerful son.


    The don¡¯s brother shakes my hand as well. ¡®Miceli,¡¯ he says by way of introduction.


    ¡®It is a pleasure to meet you,¡¯ I reply. Though that isn¡¯t strictly true.


    Where I find the don¡¯s forceful presence inexplicably exciting, this man just scares me. The cold look in his dark eyes doesn¡¯t help.


    My gaze skitters away from him only tond once again on his brother and I have to stifle a gasp. This is so unfair. My first taste of sexual desire and it¡¯s for a man who ispletely off limits and so out of my league, we might as well be on differents.


    Miceli gives my hand a squeeze. My gaze snaps back to his face. Miceli releases my hand with a frown. I try to give him an innocuous smile in return, but am sure it looks more pained than banal.


    Miceli steps away and his sister takes his ce. ¡®I am Giulia Mancini. It¡¯s nice to meet you, Catalina.¡¯


    It doesn¡¯t escape me that all of these people have met my sister before. Because she is not kept like a prisoner in our home.


    Then Severu De Luca is standing in front of me and my feelings of resentment are overshadowed by the reaction of mydybits to his presence. His masculine scent overpowers theforting fragrance of his mother¡¯s perfume, eliciting an entirely different reaction in me.


    Don De Luca takes my hand. More heat rushes up my neck and into my face. Moisture pools between my legs, soaking my panties. My ovaries practically explode and my vaginal walls contract with need. Oh. My. Gosh. All of this from his hand touching mine?


    Can I fake a sudden illness and go hide in my room? I certainly feel fevered.


    The don says in his deep voice, ¡®Catalina, thank you for having us in your home.¡¯ Like I am my father¡¯s hostess.


    Pap¨¤ has never afforded me that distinction, but his boss assumes it and my father doesn¡¯t have the courage to deny it as I¡¯m sure he wants to.


    I manage a quick handshake before jerking my hand away and tucking it behind my back, so I don¡¯t identally touch him again. For the love of Mike. ¡®Uh, Don De Luca. Thank you foring.¡¯


    He doesn¡¯t offer the use of his first name, and I would never presume to use it otherwise.


    I can¡¯t read his expression, so I have no idea if he notices my improper reaction to him. Though why should he? It¡¯s not like he can just guess my panties are now damp. Can he? I have zero experience with men and sexual attraction.


    His dark eyes look like they can see right into my soul. He turns away, showing no more reaction than if he¡¯d shaken the hand of a mannequin. Relief and disappointment war inside me, but my brain reminds my body that relief should win.


    Carlotta slides her hand into mine and holds tight. Her body is tense, and her fingers are cold to my touch. She¡¯s nervous and no matter how difficult I know this dinner is going to be for me with my newly awakened sexuality, no way am I abandoning her.


    I tell my vagina to go back to sleep. It shouldn¡¯t be hard. Awake is not its natural state. And I walk with my sister into the drawing room.

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 9

    New York City, New York


    Five Families


    SEVERU


    Dinner is excellent and Francesco¡¯s family are good hosts, but my mind is upied with the problem of who is passing mafia information on to the Irish.


    Although she never made asting impression on me when we have met in the past, my intended is as beautiful as her reputation ims. Demure, with good manners, she does not put herself forward in the conversation. I hope this bodes well for the future.


    I have no time for a spoiled wife who will expect to have my constant attention. Despite her beauty, she is not inspiring, but I don¡¯t expect her to be the love of my life. I almost smile at the ridiculousness of the thought.


    I care for my family and would die to protect them. Though I would rather kill. But love? That is for other people. Not the don. While my future wife can expect the same protection as my family, I have no intention of giving her anything else.


    A don cannot afford weakness.


    Miceli and the older sister seem to be arguing about something. I tune into their conversation and am surprised. Miceli favors bitcoin for moneyundering. He¡¯s calling it investments, naturally. We don¡¯t talk real business with women present. Catalina thinks the market is too vtile.


    The way they bicker back and forth amuses me. I notice, Francesco doesn¡¯t look entertained however.


    He res at his daughter. ¡®That is quite enough. Discussing topics beyond yourprehension, much less arguing a point of view you cannot possibly understand is not how I expect a daughter of mine to behave.¡¯


    It¡¯s a harsh reprimand, but Catalina doesn¡¯t look cowed. Her face shows no expression at all, but her hazel eyes darken so they appear green.


    She sits with her back straight, her head held high and gives her father a steady look. ¡®As you say, Pap¨¤.¡¯


    The words are right. Even the brief dropping of her gaze is exactly what is expected and yet there is something in her tone, the set of her shoulders, something that denies victory to her father.


    Miceli frowns at Francesco and then admits grudgingly, ¡®Catalina makes the same argument Domenico does.¡¯


    Which is why we don¡¯t use bitcoin tounder our money. Miceli is underboss, but Domenico is capo with responsibility for all our online moneyundering operations. We don¡¯t override our capo¡¯s decisions without strong motivation. And if it¡¯s strong enough to counter their orders, the capo is in serious trouble.


    ¡®Is he the investment director for Oscuro Enterprises?¡¯ Catalina asks.


    ¡®Madonna Catalina!¡¯ her father barks. ¡®Our business is none of your concern.¡¯


    ¡®As you say, Pap¨¤.¡¯ This time Catalina¡¯s tone is perfectly neutral, with no subtle undertones, but her shoulders do not slouch. Her head does not bow. ¡®Is there a topic you prefer I discuss?¡¯


    ¡®I would prefer you keep your mouth shut.¡¯


    I know Francesco is a chauvinist. Hell, the world of the mafia is filled with chauvinism, or so my sister informs me. But I do not like the way he is speaking to his oldest daughter. Neither does my brother, if his clenched jaw is any indication.


    And Giulia is ring daggers at my consigliere.


    ¡®Come now, Francesco, I am sure you don¡¯t mean that,¡¯ my mother says, surprising me. We do not interfere in the family affairs of others. ¡®I am enjoying visiting with both of your daughters.¡¯


    ¡®You are too kindhearted,¡¯ Francesco replies.


    My mother¡¯s mouth tightens but I doubt my consigliere notices the tiny sign of Mamma¡¯s displeasure. Sensing I may have missed something about the dynamic of my consigliere¡¯s family, I scan the other guests at the table.


    Candilora shoots a look of clear gratitude toward my mother. Her husband is eating, but the grip on his fork is tight. Carlotta looks oblivious to the tension at the table, her lovely features showing no concern. My brother gives me a look and I know what it means.


    He has never liked that I kept Francesco as my consigliere after our father¡¯s death. He considers the man too hidebound. However, it would be a disservice to my father¡¯s memory to rece the man. The idea of appointing a second, or even a third consigliere has merit though. Some dons have a counsel of three.


    ¡®Come, Lina, you can help me put the finishing touches on desert.¡¯ Candilora stands and puts her hand out to her niece.


    Catalina nods and stands, her expression stoic. She does not take her aunt¡¯s hand, but she does follow the older woman from the room.


    ¡®Carlotta will y the piano for us after dinner,¡¯ Francesco says, his voice warm with approval. ¡®She is quite an aplished musician.¡¯


    ¡®Not as aplished as soru,¡¯ Carlotta says sweetly, smiling innocently at her father.


    Francesco ignores his daughter¡¯s im and asks Miceli what he thinks of the Yankees this season. I do not understand my brother¡¯s fascination with baseball. It is a he boring sport. At least football has a chance for some bloodshed.


    ¡®Perhaps your sister will apany you tonight,¡¯ my mother says to Carlotta.


    ¡®Pap¨¤ doesn¡¯t usually ask her to y.¡¯


    ¡®You will both y,¡¯ I say. It is not a question. I don¡¯t ask. I tell.


    My mother gives me a startled look, but nods. ¡®I think that would be lovely.¡¯


    ¡®You are in for a treat.¡¯ Giovi has been mostly silent throughout dinner. ¡®My nieces are both very talented.¡¯ He smiles benevolently at Carlotta.


    She returns his smile sweetly, her undeniably beautiful features made even more so by the expression. I do not know why my mind insists on remembering the stoic expression her sister has worn throughout most of the evening.


    And why it is thoughts of the older woman that make my dick hard.


    CATALINA


    Don De Luca has decreed that both Carlotta and I will y the piano after dinner. Pap¨¤ is furious, but he¡¯s doing his best to hide it. He wants to show off the daughter he loves. His little beauty.


    ying the piano is consuming and personal for me. I prefer to do it without an audience. I do not dare demur though. For one thing, even I know you do not tell the don no. And for another, the only thing that will make my father angrier right now is for me to embarrass him by refusing to y at the don¡¯smand.


    I think Carlotta must have instigated this, but I do not know if it is because she doesn¡¯t want to y alone, or because she wants to highlight my worth. It is something she has done since we were little. She¡¯s very subtle about it and I¡¯m not sure anyone else in the family notices, but I do.


    It is one of the reasons I adore my younger sister so much. She has always seen my value, no matter what kind of cutting remarks our father makes about me. He cannot diminish me in her eyes. Zio and Zia are the same, though they usually reserve their approvingments for when pap¨¤ is not around.


    Carlotta and I take our ces side by side on the piano bench. She starts ying ir de Lune and after the second note, I join her. We have been ying this way since she first learned the instrument. We y three songs like that, finishing with Be Ciao, the lively notes garnering both vocal praise and apuse from our listeners.


    We turn to face our dinnerpanions and I notice that even the don¡¯s lips are tilted up infinitesimally on one side of his mouth. It¡¯s not a smile like Zio Giovi¡¯s, but it does funny things to my heart. And my traitorous vagina.


    Carlotta smiles shyly and blushes. I duck my head, ufortable with being the center of attention even though I share the spotlight with her.


    ¡®Now, you y a song for us by yourself, stellina.¡¯ My father¡¯s tone is jovial, but there is no doubt in my mind he expects to be obeyed.


    I stand from the piano bench and join my aunt and uncle on one of the sofas ced in the music room for just this purpose. There are three arranged in a c shape, the opening toward the piano. The don, his mother and his sister sit on the one facing the piano. My father and Miceli sit on the sofa across from where I am.


    I keep my attention on my sister, having no desire to meet my father¡¯s gaze or that of the don, or his family, for that matter. I desperately want to retreat to my room, my emotional reserves used up. I am not used to being around people besides my family and have gotten adept at avoiding my father. Spending so many hours in hispany is draining.


    Continuing with the theme of Italian folk songs, Carlotta ys a cheerful rendition of Tarante Napoletana. When she is finished, there is more apuse and smiles.


    ¡®Your turn,¡¯ my uncle says to me.


    I stiffen. I don¡¯t want to y alone in front of the audience.


    ¡®I¡¯m sure Catalina is too tired to indulge you, Giovi,¡¯ my father says repressively. ¡®The don and his family are here to get to know Carlotta.¡¯


    It¡¯s as tant of a im to what this visit is for as my father could make. No one denies it, least of all the don himself. He is looking at Carlotta with approval.


    My heart falls. A tiny part of me was still hoping that all this talk of marriage and engagements was just that. Talk. That Don De Luca was not interested in my neen-year-old sister. It was a ridiculous hope.


    He is the most powerful mafia don in the country, who else would he choose for his bride than the most beautiful mafia princess? The don isn¡¯t going to settle for just any woman. He will take for a wife only a woman that will make others envious. Just as his father did before him.


    At least Carlotta is not already promised to another like Signora De Luca had been all those years ago. Aria De Luca was supposed to be Aria Jni. It was considered a good match. My father was the oldest son of a capo. Everyone expected him to be capo one day, but instead he was promoted to the role of consigliere at a very young age.


    I wonder if Severu De Luca is aware my father¡¯s appointment to such a prestigious position was part of the bride swapping bargain between his father and my own?


    My father gave up his im to Aria and epted my mother as his substitute bride. Mamma came with an impable pedigree and advantageous connections, but she was not the elegant and charming beauty that Aria was. Mamma was short, curvy and worst of all, ording to my father, painfully shy.


    Despite his pretense to the contrary, my father never got over losing the woman he¡¯d been promised, and he¡¯d made my mother pay for it every day of their marriage.


    A touch on my arm makes me jump. It is my aunt, and her expression is filled with concern. ¡®Is your father right, are you too tired to y?¡¯


    I look around me and realize everyone¡¯s attention is on me.


    ¡®Of course, she is,¡¯ my father states with authority. ¡®You know Catalinacks stamina.¡¯


    ¡®Oh, if you are not up to it, that is quite all right,¡¯ Signora De Luca says.


    And I realize two things. One, I missed part of the conversation while I was lost in memories and two, apparently the don¡¯s mother has added her request to my uncle¡¯s for me to y a solo.


    The look of smug triumph in my father¡¯s eyes spurs me on as nothing else could and I stand. ¡®I am happy to y for you.¡¯ I speak directly to the don¡¯s mother.


    Then I turn and go back to the piano while Carlotta takes my ce on the sofa with our aunt and uncle.


    I hear a quickly indrawn breath when I start ying and am sure it is my father. He knows this song choice for the act of rebellion it is. La Campane had been my mother¡¯s favorite piece and was one of thest songs she taught me to y before her death.


    Losing myself in the music, I forget about getting back at my father. I forget my audience. I simply y and feel the peace I knew as a little girl sitting on this very piano bench beside my mother.


    As my fingers still on the piano keys, I want nothing more than to slump into myself. I am more than drained, I am hollowed out. But I keep my spine straight and my shoulders back. I will not let my father win. I show him no weakness.


    The apuse barely registers as I stand. ¡®I will have coffee brought into the living room,¡¯ I say, prepared to make a quick exit to the kitchen.


    The don stands. His mother and siblings follow suit.


    ¡®No coffee for us.¡¯ Don De Luca catches my father¡¯s gaze with his hard eyes. ¡®I will call you tomorrow to discuss the particrs of the engagement.¡¯


    Does anyone else see the way my sister¡¯s eyes narrow?


    She deserves so much better than this. She deserves a proper proposal, even if this is a mafia arranged marriage.


    Signora De Luca shakes her head. ¡®That¡¯s my son, ever practical.¡¯


    I would have said abysmally insensitive, but nobody asked me.


    ¡®We¡¯ll meet for lunch tomorrow to start nning the wedding,¡¯ she says to my sister. ¡®I would like you both to join us.¡¯


    This time she meets Zia Lora¡¯s eyes and then my own. We both nod, but I notice my sister says nothing. Everyone takes her acquiescence for granted and that worries me.


    Carlotta is used to getting her own way. She¡¯s never run right up against the wall of our father¡¯s intransigence. Rock, meet hard ce.


    One of them is going to shatter and I don¡¯t think it¡¯s going to be the consigliere, no matter how indulgent he usually is toward my sister.

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 10

    New York City, New York


    Mancini Mafia


    GIULIA


    After our return to the De Luca building, I check on Neri. The nightlight reveals both the nanny and Neri sleeping peacefully, in their respective beds.


    With his dark curls and square jaw, Neri looks so much like his father, I sometimes wonder what there is of me in him. Raff says he sees it in Neri¡¯s enthusiasm for life and affectionate nature.


    An affectionate nature I know will be trained out of him by the time he bes a made man. Raff has agreed to allow our son to finish high school before being inducted into the mafia. And like my husband and brothers, Neri will get a business degree before taking any official role.


    It¡¯s as normal of a life as I can negotiate for my son.


    Raff has already started training our son for life in the mafia. Thankfully, he¡¯s implementing my father¡¯s methods of using y to teach Neri, rather than the much stricter, formalized training Raff started when he was a mere toddler.


    As part of the marriage alliance bargain, Raff spent the four years that I attended university in New York, learning under my father. His choice to follow my father¡¯s counsel regarding our son, rather than Patrizio¡¯s, is one of the reasons I can¡¯t help but love the infuriating man.


    There is one area of Neri¡¯s training I insist on following neither father on. I refuse to teach my son to bury his emotions at such a young age. Neri is allowed to show his anger, his sadness, his hurt and his happiness¡­around family. Raff insists Neri cannot cry, or evenugh too loudly, in public.


    It¡¯s apromise I can live with.


    Because that freedom to show any emotion was not afforded to either of my brothers. By the time I was born, neither Severu nor Miceli ever cried, and they almost neverughed.


    I grew up knowing my father and brothers would both die and kill to keep me and my mom safe. However, I craved the hugs I saw school friends receive from their fathers. I was jealous of the joking camaraderie they had with their siblings.


    Life as the daughter of a don prepared me in many ways for my life as the wife of an underboss who will one day rule over Las Vegas. But deep inside, I¡¯m still starving for the affection I will never receive from the people I need it most.


    I lean down and kiss my son, silently promising him that as much as I can make it, his world will be a different ce than mine.


    Returning to the guest room I have used since my marriage, I prepare for bed. My phone rings as I¡¯m drying off from my shower.


    It¡¯s Raff requesting a video call. I yank the shower cap I¡¯d worn to keep my hair dry off my head and wrap therge, fluffy towel around my torso, tucking it above my breasts to hold it in ce.


    Swiping my finger across the screen, I answer the call and then prop the phone up on the counter. ¡®Hello, Raff.¡¯


    It¡¯s only eight o¡¯clock there, but his handsome face is drawn in lines of weariness. ¡®Amate. How was the dinner with your brother¡¯s fianc¨¦e?¡¯


    I pause in smoothing lotion down my leg. There is that word again. Beloved.


    ¡®Honestly? Strange.¡¯


    ¡®In what way?¡¯ The familiar hunger in his gaze tells me that he¡¯s watching my post shower routine closely.


    Do I let the towel edges part to show more of my naked thigh? Why yes. Yes, I do.


    ¡®Francesco Jni has two daughters and one of them is in her mid-twenties,¡¯ I say as if I¡¯m not doing my best to tease my husband with my body. ¡®But I¡¯ve never seen her at any of the social functions.¡¯


    Raff¡¯s eyes narrow, but he replies in kind. ¡®I didn¡¯t realize he had an older daughter. Is she married?¡¯


    ¡®No and she¡¯d be a better fit for Severu. You should have heard her arguing the merits of bitcoin with Miceli.¡¯ I lift my other foot onto the stool and administer lotion down the length of my leg.


    ¡®Your brother doesn¡¯t seem to get that bitcoin is as big a gamble as the games in our casinos.¡¯


    Really? He can still talk about ways tounder money? I need to up my game.


    Giving a not-so-idental peek at my feminine center, I lower my foot to the floor. ¡®I think she convinced him.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m impressed.¡¯


    ¡®I was too. And I could tell Severu enjoyed the way she schooled our brother, but he¡¯s marrying her younger sister.¡¯ Carlotta is only neen. My brother is 35.


    It¡¯s a significant age gap. Almost an entire generation. Catalina is closer to my age, and Severu¡¯s. There¡¯s only a decade between them, which is still a gap, but she¡¯s more mature than her sister. It¡¯s not just about years, but attitude.


    ¡®I wasn¡¯t talking about Catalina.¡¯


    ¡®Oh?¡¯ I ask, smoothing lotion onto my arms.


    ¡®Drop the towel, wife.¡¯


    I y with the top of my towel but don¡¯t part it. ¡®You want a peep show, husband?¡¯


    ¡®I want to see my wife.¡¯ His eyes are so hot, they are melting my feminine core.


    I let the white terrycloth drop to the floor.


    ¡®Beautiful,¡¯ he growls.


    ¡®You want to see beautiful? You should have been at dinner. Carlotta is as stunning as everyone ims.¡¯


    ¡®No one is as gorgeous as my wife.¡¯ His phone shakes, making his image wobble and then it rights itself.


    ¡®Did you put your phone on a stand?¡¯ I ask.


    So he could touch himself? With all the trips I¡¯ve taken during our marriage, this is the first time we¡¯ve done this. If we¡¯re doing what I think we are.


    ¡®Cup your tits, Giulia.¡¯


    Okay, we are definitely doing it.


    I curve my hands under the bottom of both of my breasts, squeezing just the way I like. My nipples are already hard, but I don¡¯t touch them. I¡¯m teasing us both.


    The growl thates out of his throat is pure masculine arousal.


    ¡®What are you doing with your hands?¡¯ I tease him.


    ¡®Do you want to see?¡¯


    ¡®Yes.¡¯


    He shifts the phone stand so I have a view of him sitting in his office chair, his trousers open, his erection dark and engorged with blood sticking straight up. One of his big hands has it grasped at the base, the other is gripping the arm of his chair with white-knuckle intensity.


    He is so into this.


    Wetness gushes from my center, sliding down my inner thighs.


    ¡®Squeeze your tits together, like you do when you let me fuck them.¡¯


    My knees want to buckle and I drag the vanity stool to where I am so I can sit on it and still give him a view of my naked body. I sit down with my legs spread, letting him see my glistening folds.


    ¡®Fuck.¡¯ He rubs up and down his shaft, his hand almost a blur.


    I press my boobs together, my nipples sticking out like big, round erasers. I love when he uses my breasts to get off. The feel of his velvet covered hardness between my pillowy softness is so darn sensual. And he ys with my nipples until I¡¯m begging toe by the time he paints my chest and neck with his cum.


    ¡®This fucking phone screen is too small. Put your camera up to your pussy. I want to see how flushed and wet you are.¡¯


    ¡®What? No.¡¯ The blush he¡¯s so sure is in mydy bits travels up my body and makes my face hot.


    ¡®Do it, amate.¡¯ His dark,manding tone sends arousal zinging along every one of my nerve endings.


    I lean forward and grab the phone, and then lower it so he can see my wet slit. ¡®I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m doing this.¡¯


    In the little rectangr inset that shows my camera¡¯s feed, I can see what Raff is seeing. An up close and personal image of my coochie. Why does that turn me on so freakin¡¯ much?


    His expression is harsh and intent. On me. I can feel the impact across 2500 miles.


    ¡®Touch yourself. Slide your fingers into those pretty pink folds and spread your honey up to your clit. Get it good and wet.¡¯


    ¡®I hope your office door is shut,¡¯ I huff. But my hand goes exactly where he wants it.


    I¡¯m so wet, I¡¯m going to need another shower after this. Sliding my forefinger and middle finger between mybia, I scissor them and send jolts of pleasure from my clitoris outward.


    I moan.


    ¡®Giulia.¡¯ Raff¡¯s voice isden with sexual need.


    ¡®I wish you were touching me,¡¯ I tell him.


    ¡®Whose pussy are you touching?¡¯ he asks gutturally, his hand spreading his own precum over his turgid penis.


    ¡®Yours,¡¯ I moan, unable to give him my usual sass on this.


    I miss him. I ache for him. I need him in ways he¡¯ll never understand.


    ¡®And whose cock is this?¡¯ he demands, like he¡¯s angry.


    ¡®Mine.¡¯ He might not love me, but my husband belongs to me.


    ¡®Put your fingers inside. Come on, cara, fuck yourself for me.¡¯


    Pushing both fingers into my slick heat, I shudder at the sensation. Both full and nearly full enough.


    ¡®I¡¯m going to have to buy a dildo for these trips,¡¯ I joke, my voice breathless as I slide my fingers in and out of myself.


    I¡¯m holding my phone so he can see what I¡¯m doing with my other hand, but my clitoris needs stimtion. I¡¯m so close toing, my body is shaking with the need to orgasm.


    ¡®No dildo!¡¯ Raff looks and sound feral. ¡®No cock in your pussy but mine.¡¯


    ¡®Alright, caveman.¡¯ I¡¯m not about to order a dildo online and have it delivered to my family¡¯s home.


    Going into a sex toy store is out of the question too.


    ¡®I mean it, amate. Your fingers and nothing else until you are with me again.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re so bossy sometimes,¡¯ Iin, though the wordse out in broken gasps.


    I¡¯m so close and for whatever reason this conversation is only increasing my excitement.


    ¡®Come for me, wife. Come. Now.¡¯


    Bossy.


    I press my heel into the bundle of nerves at the top of mybia as I shove my fingers as deep as I can into my swollen vagina. Ecstasy detonates inside me with the power of crashinget. My whole body seizes with the pleasure and I yell Raff¡¯s name.


    I hear him shouting, ¡®Giulia,¡¯ but my eyes are closed and I can¡¯t even watch his ejacte shoot out of his shaft. I imagine it in my mind¡¯s eye though and it sends another wave of pleasure through me.


    Thump.


    My side hits the bathroom floor with a painful jar. This time when I cry out, it¡¯s not in bliss.


    Oh, man, that hurt. I sit up and look around for my phone. Itnded a couple of feet away, against the wall.


    ¡®Giulia!¡¯ Raff is yelling. ¡®Are you alright?¡¯


    I crawl to the phone and grab it, holding it so he can see me. My hair is a mess and I¡¯m sweaty and red in the face. I¡¯m definitely going to have to step back into the shower before going to bed.


    ¡®Next time, I think I need to be on a bed for that. Softernding.¡¯


    ¡®Damn it, Giulia, this is no joking matter. Are you bruised?¡¯


    I look down at the side Inded on. My hip is a little red, but there¡¯s nothing that¡¯s going to turn into a bruise tomorrow. ¡®I¡¯m fine.¡¯


    ¡®Show me.¡¯


    ¡®Are you kidding? I told you I¡¯m fine.¡¯


    ¡®I want to see.¡¯


    Knowing it will be easier, and faster, to just show him than to argue over it, I scan my phone¡¯s camera over my left side.


    When I¡¯m done, I bring it back up to my face. ¡®Satisfied?¡¯


    ¡®Yes,¡¯ he says grudgingly.


    He doesn¡¯t look satisfied. He looks like he wants toe through the phone and do a personal inspection himself.


    As the adrenaline fades from the ignominious fall off the stool, I yawn.


    ¡®You are tired. You need to go to bed.¡¯


    ¡®I have to shower.¡¯


    ¡®You just got out of the shower.¡¯


    ¡®You got me all messy,¡¯ I tease him with a tired blink.


    ¡®No shower. Get some sleep.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re getting bossier the older you get. I¡¯m going to have to start reining you in,¡¯ I tease. But honestly? Bed sounds really good right now.


    My body is replete and I may be able to fall asleep without tossing and turning from missing my husband. I never sleep as well when he¡¯s not in the bed with me.


    ¡®Good luck with that.¡¯


    ¡®Was that a joke, Raff?¡¯


    ¡®Go to sleep, Giulia.¡¯


    ¡®Goodnight, husband.¡¯


    Something intense res in his eyes, and he says, ¡®Goodnight, wife. Dream of me.¡¯


    I don¡¯t tell him that¡¯s all too likely.


    As I¡¯m drifting into sleep, I remember the expression on Severu¡¯s face when Catalina yed the piano. He¡¯d been mesmerized, like the rest of us, but there had been something more there. The same look Raff had tonight on our video call.


    Pity for Carlotta makes my heart hurt. Severu will never love the girl, but she¡¯ll never inspire the kind of passion in him that has made my own marriage bearable either.


    Because it¡¯s not her my brother looks at like a steak dinner to a starving man.


    It¡¯s Catalina.

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 11

    New York City, New York


    Five Families


    CATALINA


    Our lunch with Aria De Luca, Giulia Mancini and Zia Lora is more like a war council.


    Apparently Don De Luca expects a full Sicilian wedding in three months. Three!


    His mother informs us that she will be his voice in the wedding ns. As her maid of honor, Carlotta insists on me being present for everything. So, I¡¯m d the don isn¡¯t going to be underfoot.


    If I could go without seeing him again until the day of the wedding, that would be great. My vagina disagrees, but she¡¯s azy twit who has spent two and half decades dormant. She doesn¡¯t get a vote now.


    However, between my sister¡¯s unenthusiastic response to her engagement and the groom¡¯sck of interest in the wedding, I can¡¯t help worrying their marriage is a disaster in the making.


    ~ ~ ~


    I chew on my bottom lip and watch my sister as the car eats up the miles between Long Ind and Manhattan.


    Thest week and a half have been a whirlwind of activity.


    Yesterday, Carlotta picked out her wedding gown. As much as my sister loves fashion, she reacted to picking out the dress she¡¯s going to be married in like she was choosing a vor of ice cream. But with less excitement.


    Right now, we are on our way into the city for a consultation with the cateringpany. We¡¯ll be meeting Aria De Luca and her daughter again. Not the don.


    Zia Lora won¡¯t be able to make all the trips into the city because it¡¯s all so rushed, but she¡¯s convinced Papa to give us a car and a driver. Even with a second soldier acting as bodyguard, it is freedom unlike anything either of us have ever known.


    ¡®I¡¯m so excited to try this tasting menu,¡¯ Carlotta says with her first spark of real enthusiasm. ¡®The head chef said I could tour the kitchens and watch different preparations.¡¯


    ¡®Does it matter how they make the food, so long as you like how it tastes?¡¯ I ask.


    My sister¡¯s lovely face is flushed, her eyes fever bright. ¡®Oh yes. I can¡¯t wait to see how they make the chilled dessert. The chef does it in individual portions with liquid nitrogen.¡¯


    ¡®That sounds dangerous.¡¯ Not to mention challenging for the number of guests expected to attend.


    Even with the short notice, there are nearly two-thousand people on the guest list. At least a thousand of them, or their representatives, will definitely be there.


    It is not every day a don gets married. Guests areing from all over the country and even Italy. There will be dons, or their underbosses, from all Five Families in New York and the other Cosa Nostra territories, as well as the Camorra we count as allies.


    Carlotta shrugs. ¡®It¡¯s molecr gastronomy,¡¯ she says with reverence.


    ¡®I could barely get you to give an opinion about the flowers.¡¯ She¡¯d agreed that having mom¡¯s favorite white camelias included in the arrangements would be nice, though Carlotta hadn¡¯t actually shown a preference for anything herself.


    ¡®Flowers are boring.¡¯


    ¡®And the dress?¡¯


    ¡®Aria has impable taste. The dress she picked out is fine.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t think your future mother-inw should pick out your wedding dress,¡¯ I admonish.


    ¡®Why not? She¡¯s got experience being a don¡¯s wife. She knows what¡¯s expected. I don¡¯t. You know what Zio Giovi says¡­¡¯


    ¡®Go with the experts and you won¡¯t go wrong,¡¯ we say together and then burst outughing.


    ¡®She may be an expert on being a don¡¯s wife, but she is not an expert on you, Carlotta. And this is your wedding.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s why you¡¯re here, to be the expert on me,¡¯ Carlotta says.


    It¡¯s disturbing that Signora De Luca and even her daughter have had more input on the wedding ns than the bride-to-be, but I don¡¯t say anything. I can tell my little sister is overwhelmed by the prospect of bing the don¡¯s wife.


    She doesn¡¯t find him even remotely sexy. She told me so and I had to bite my tongue to keep back my astonishment. ¡®He¡¯s nearly twice my age and you¡¯ve seen how cold his eyes are.¡¯


    I don¡¯t tell her how a simple look from those dark eyes warms up my insides faster than a shot of whiskey.


    ¡®Well, I¡¯m d you¡¯re excited about the food,¡¯ I say now.


    Only I realizeter that it¡¯s not choosing the food for the wedding menu that excites my sister.


    She¡¯s happy to leave the final choices for each course up to the rest of us, but Carlotta peppers the caterer with questions about how each dish is prepared and she¡¯s transfixed when we are taken on a tour of the kitchens.


    I see cooking as a means to an end, a way to avoid my father. He wouldn¡¯t step foot in the kitchen. However, Carlotta enjoys our time learning how to prepare our family¡¯s signature dishes from Zia Lora. I mean, I don¡¯t dislike cooking, but given a choice between doing it and listening to a lecture on ancient history, I¡¯ll go for the lecture every time.


    Carlotta is busy trying to guess the ingredients of a soup she¡¯s been invited to taste by one of the sous chefs when Signora De Luca touches my arm.


    I turn to face her.


    ¡®Carlotta is very lucky to have you as her older sister. I worried she would struggle with the wedding ns without a mother to help, but you stepped in and are doing a wonderful job.¡¯


    I feel my face heat at thepliment. ¡®Zia Lora would be doing more if the ns were not so rushed.¡¯


    ¡®When Severu makes up his mind about something, there¡¯s no changing it,¡¯ his sister, Giulia, says, with a look toward Carlotta that could be construed as worried.


    She has the most adorable three year old son, Neri. She¡¯s brought him with her when she could, but right now he¡¯s at the De Luca¡¯s taking a nap.


    ¡®Carlotta is young.¡¯ There is something in the don¡¯s mother¡¯s voice and she¡¯s looking at my sister with an identical expression to her daughter¡¯s. ¡®Beautiful, but young.¡¯


    ¡®She is smart and she¡¯s good with people. She¡¯ll learn what she needs to,¡¯ I say loyally, though in my heart I agree with Signora De Luca. I hate that my sister is being pressured into marrying at such a young age.


    ¡®Let us hope that she does not lose herself in the process.¡¯


    Surprised by the older woman¡¯s sentiments, I admit, ¡®If it were my choice, she wouldn¡¯t have been pushed into marriage at neen.¡¯


    ¡®I was eighteen when I married Enzo.¡¯


    I cannot tell from Aria De Luca¡¯s tone if she thinks that was a good, or a bad, thing.


    ¡®Do you wish you had been older?¡¯ As soon as I ask the question, I wish I could take it back. ¡®I¡¯m sorry. I shouldn¡¯t have asked that. It¡¯s much too personal.¡¯


    ¡®We are bing friends, are we not, Catalina?¡¯


    Are we? We¡¯ve known each other less than two weeks, but I like Aria De Luca very much. And her daughter, Giulia. They are both very easy to be around and neither lords their position over others.


    Huh. The don¡¯s mother and I are bing friends. I smile.


    Aria returns my smile. ¡®In answer to your question. I had many good years with Enzo. We were never in love, but we grew to love each other. We respected each other. He was good to me.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s not actually an answer to my question.¡¯ Which is another thing I probably shouldn¡¯t say, but it is something I would say to a friend.


    ¡®No, it isn¡¯t, is it? I¡¯m so used to being circumspect. Yes.¡¯ She expels a breath like a sigh. ¡®I wish I had been older. I spent the first few years of my marriage feeling like a fraud, terrified of doing or saying the wrong thing. I believe I would have been more confident and less afraid if I had been older when I got married.¡¯


    Giulia doesn¡¯t look like this is news to her. Maybe that¡¯s why she was allowed to attend university before marrying the underboss in Las Vegas.


    ¡®I¡¯m d you will be there to help Carlotta navigate her life as a don¡¯s wife,¡¯ I say to Aria.


    Aria gives a smile tinged with something else. Sadness? Concern? I¡¯m not sure.


    She says, ¡®I will do my best, but I¡¯m sure she will continue to rely on you.¡¯


    Only I am not going to be there. Even if I didn¡¯t have these totally inappropriate cravings for my sister¡¯s future husband, I must get away from our father.


    My ns are set. I will be leaving New York after the wedding.

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 12

    New York City, New York


    Five Families


    CATALINA


    We are on our way home and I rx on the leather backseat of the family Mercedes S-ss sedan. It¡¯s luxurious andfortable, but not armored like my father¡¯s personal SUV with a 3rd row of seating for additional guards.


    Carlotta is still talking about everything she learned from the chef and sous chefs.


    ¡®You should ask Don De Luca for cooking sses. I am sure he won¡¯t object.¡¯


    Carlotta¡¯s eyes fill with hope and then they dim. ¡®Even if he wouldn¡¯t, I don¡¯t think I could ask him for anything. He scares me.¡¯


    ¡®He¡¯s going to be your husband. You do not need to fear him.¡¯


    ¡®You don¡¯t think so?¡¯ Carlotta shivers. ¡®He¡¯s ruthless. I bet he tortures men for breakfast.¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t be dramatic.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m still a teenager,¡¯ she sasses. ¡®I¡¯m allowed.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯ll soon be married. Teenager, or not.¡¯


    Carlotta frowns, but then her expression lightens. ¡®You could bring cooking school up to Aria. She¡¯ll suggest it to her son if you tell her you think it¡¯s a good idea for me.¡¯


    Not sure how we went from cooking sses to cooking school, I say, ¡®Aria is going to be your mother-inw, not mine.¡¯


    ¡®But you two get along so well.¡¯


    ¡®She wants to help you, Carlotta. Let her.¡¯


    My sister¡¯s mouth twists in a grimace. ¡®I suppose.¡¯


    ¡®To tell you the truth, I¡¯m a little jealous,¡¯ I admit.


    ¡®You are?¡¯ Carlotta asks, like there could not possibly be anything in her current situation to be jealous of.


    ¡®Most women would be jealous of you marrying the don.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re not though. I know you.¡¯


    She doesn¡¯t know how I react to Don De Luca. No, I¡¯m not jealous of her being a don¡¯s wife, but being his wife? I¡¯m ashamed to admit, even to myself, that I am.


    I say what doesn¡¯t shame me though. ¡®I miss having a mom so much and now you are going to have a really kind and caring mother-inw.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯ve never needed a mom,¡¯ Carlotta says dismissively. ¡®I had Zia Lora and I had you. I don¡¯t want a mother-inw.¡¯


    Carlotta was only four when Mamma died. She doesn¡¯t remember our mom¡¯s gentleness, her loving nature, her sweetness despite being married to a man who never epted her for herself. Mamma had never let it make her bitter.


    ¡®I¡¯m sorry you don¡¯t want a mother-inw.¡¯ I don¡¯t tell her she needs to get over it. There are enough people in Carlotta¡¯s life ignoring her feelings right now. I¡¯m not going to be another one of them. ¡®I know this is hard for you. I wish I could make it easier.¡¯


    ¡®You are.¡¯


    I wish that were true. ¡®Your light has dimmed since the engagement was announced.¡¯


    ¡®Can you me me?¡¯ Carlotta¡¯s eyes fill with tears. ¡®All anyone sees or talks about is how beautiful I am, like I¡¯m nothing more than my face and body. Like I¡¯m some kind of prize. But I am a woman with thoughts and feelings. I¡¯m not just a broodmare who will make pretty children. Oh, God, soru, I¡¯m terrified of my wedding night. I can¡¯t stand the thought of him touching me.¡¯


    I pull my sister into my arms and hug her tight, my own eyes burning. I can¡¯t stop this wedding, and neither can she. I can¡¯t make my sister be attracted to the don any more than I can rid myself of my own inexplicable desire for him. If I could give it to her, I would. For so many reasons.


    The window behind us explodes, ss shattering over our heads. Carlotta screams, but she quickly undoes her seatbelt and drops to the floor of the car, curling up into a ball. I do the same.


    We¡¯ve been trained since we could walk in how to respond in situations like this. Not that either of us has ever been in one before.


    ¡®What¡¯s happening?¡¯ Carlotta screams the question.


    ¡®Stay down,¡¯ one of the bodyguard orders.


    My sister¡¯s terror suppresses my own. I have to take care of her. I have to protect her. I know where the extra guns are kept in the cars.


    Zio Giovi showed me. He also taught me how to shoot. My father would be furious if he knew, but both Zio and I are good at keeping secrets.


    I press the lever that allows me ess to the hiddenpartment under the backseat and pull out a gun. It¡¯s a Glock. Good. I¡¯ve used one of these before. I check that it is loaded. It is.


    A loud thump sounds and then the car swerves, a kathunk, kathunk telling me that whoever is after us has shot out one of the tires. The car fishtails wildly but it keeps moving forward. Toward the safety of our home.


    Suddenly the kathunk gives way to the sound of metal scraping on asphalt. I don¡¯t know how long the driver can keep the car going, driving on the rim.


    Secondster, I learn the answer to my question as the driver brings the car to a stop.


    ¡®Stay in the car with the doors locked,¡¯ he says before he and the other bodyguard jump out, mming doors behind them.


    Why don¡¯t they use the doors as shields? The car is alreadypromised with the missing back window. It¡¯s not armored, so if our pursuers get past the bodyguards, all they have to do is shoot through the windows.


    Unless they don¡¯t want to kill us. Kidnapping is a bigger worry for my sister and me. Regardless, this car is no refuge.


    ¡®It¡¯s going to be okay, stellina,¡¯ I say, using my dad¡¯s endearment for my sister. ¡®We¡¯re going to be alright.¡¯


    Shaking with fear, Carlotta doesn¡¯t answer.


    Gunshots sound from behind the car, but I don¡¯t raise my head to see what¡¯s happening. I wait. There is a cacophony of shots and the thump of a body falling. Was it one of the pursuers, or one of the bodyguards?


    I¡¯m scared, but I have to know.


    I lift my head just high enough to peek through the missing back window. Our bodyguards have taken a stance behind trees to the side of the road, drawing the fire of our pursuers away from the car.


    There is a masked man lying in a pool of blood on the road. There are three additional masked men still standing. They are using their SUV as a shield. One starts running toward our car while his associatesy down covering fire toward my father¡¯s men.


    Regardless of the bullets hitting the trees all around them, our driveres out enough to shoot the man headed toward us. He falls and remains unmoving. Then our driver takes a shot in the shoulder. My throat tightens with dread as I see the blood and the way his body is thrown backward.


    He gets up again almost immediately though, keeping up a steady barrage of gunfire toward the remaining pursuers. Secondster, he¡¯s shot again and this time, he doesn¡¯t get up.


    The second bodyguard manages to hit another one of the masked men and that one falls to the side of the SUV. He tries to get back up, but can only pull himself into a sitting position against the SUV. Thest masked man standing runs toward the back of their SUV and pops around it out of sight.


    I want to scream a warning to our bodyguard, but we are trained not to do anything that couldpromise the focus of the men trying to protect us. The bodyguard is scanning the area to both the front and the back of the SUV, like he knows the masked man coulde at him from either direction.


    Just as I decide the warning is worth it and shout, ¡®At the back!¡¯ as loud as I can, more gunfire erupts.


    The bodyguard is shooting in the right direction, but the other man¡¯s aim must be better because he goes down.


    It feels like an hour has passed, but it¡¯s probably less than five minutes. Both of our bodyguards are either dead or incapacitated. If we try to make a run for it, we¡¯re as likely to get shot as not. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s worth it.


    There¡¯s only one of them left. I see that he¡¯s moving toward the car, his stride confident. He thinks we¡¯re sitting ducks in an unarmored vehicle. He doesn¡¯t know about me though, that I have a gun and I know how to use it.


    I¡¯ve never shot at a person before, but I will do whatever I have to in order to protect my little sister.


    ¡®Do not move,¡¯ I tell her in a harsh whisper. ¡®No matter what. Stay still.¡¯


    She doesn¡¯t reply, but I have to trust Carlotta will do as I say and not bump me at an inopportune moment. I take the Glock in both hands, like Zio Giovi taught me. I¡¯ll need to raise my head and shoulders above the backseat to take aim through the ssless window.


    I have only seconds before the gunman reaches us and I know I will only get one chance. If I miss, the man will have a chance to shoot me and then there will be no one left to protect either of us.


    Hoping my mom is watching over us, I rise up and take aim as I breathe in and fire the gun as I expel that breath. Not once, but over and over until I see the man fall backward with a shocked expression on his face.


    I watch, but he doesn¡¯t move. Nobody moves outside the car. Even the man propped up against the SUV appears passed out. Or dead.


    I¡¯m sure the bodyguards would have sent an emergency call to my father, but I still say, ¡®Carlotta, call Pap¨¤.¡¯


    She doesn¡¯t move or reply.


    ¡®Carlotta,¡¯ I say with more forcefulness, never taking my eyes of the men lying on the street.


    It¡¯s like my fingers are frozen on the gun, my gaze locked irrevocably on the scene of carnage outside.


    ¡®What?¡¯ she finally asks in a shaky voice.


    ¡®Call Pap¨¤. I think I got thest one, but there might be moreing.¡¯ They¡¯d made their move on a stretch of road with trees on both sides and no houses.


    That doesn¡¯t mean no one heard the gunshots. The cops might have been called. That¡¯s not my problem. Keeping my sister safe is. And there¡¯s no way of knowing if the masked men have reinforcements on the way.


    ¡®You shot one of them?¡¯ Carlotta asks, sounding dazed.


    ¡®Yes. Are you dialing Pap¨¤?¡¯


    ¡®I am.¡¯


    Then I hear the ring and realize my sister has her phone on speaker.


    ¡®We¡¯re on our way.¡¯ My father says rather than answering. ¡®Don¡¯t worry, stellina, we¡¯ll keep you safe.¡¯


    ¡®Catalina already did,¡¯ Carlotta says.


    ¡®Catalina?¡¯ That¡¯s not my father¡¯s voice. It¡¯s Don De Luca.


    My father must have his phone on speaker as well.


    I don¡¯t know if the don is asking what Carlotta meant or for me to speak.


    ¡®I think all of the gunmen are dead, but they might just be passed out,¡¯ I say, deciding to answer. My voice sounds weird to my own ears. ¡®The bodyguards are down, but I don¡¯t know if they¡¯re dead.¡¯


    Carlotta starts to cry. ¡®Soru shot one of them.¡¯


    ¡®She shot one of our bodyguards?¡¯ my father demands, his tone filled with anger.


    ¡®No,¡¯ my sister wails. ¡®She shot one of the bad guys. She kept me safe. Why don¡¯t I know how to shoot a gun?¡¯


    Carlotta is sobbing now and it¡¯s hard to understand her, but my father¡¯s reply proves that he does. ¡®Becausedies don¡¯t handle guns,¡¯ he says with stark judgment toward me.


    It¡¯s such bullpuckey. There are women all over the world thatpete in shooting tournaments, even actualdies of the nobility. I know because I watch thepetitions online. They¡¯re fascinating. No one dies when those guns are fired. There is no blood.


    I wish I could join them. I¡¯m a very good shot.


    I look at the man lying in the road that proves that and my heart skips a beat. What if I killed him?


    ¡®It is a good thing one of your daughters knows how to handle a gun,¡¯ Don De Luca says. ¡®Or they both might be dead right now.¡¯


    My father doesn¡¯t answer. I hear a vehicle speeding towards us from the direction of our home. I don¡¯t want to turn away from the men in the street, but have to make sure it¡¯s our fathering toward us. Only I can¡¯t move.


    ¡®We see you,¡¯ my father says, for once diminishing my stress, rather than adding to it. ¡®We are almost there.¡¯


    The sound of the approaching vehicle grows louder. Then the call drops and I hear not one, but multiple carse to a stop, one after the other, their engines still running.


    I hear doors open and soon after, men swarm past the car, checking on the fallen shooters. ¡®This one¡¯s alive,¡¯ a man shouts after checking the pulse on the man leaning against the SUV.


    ¡®Take him to the box,¡¯ Don De Luca barks, the low gravel of his voice inciting a feeling of safety I do not examine.


    Someone knocks gently on the window nearest Carlotta. ¡®Stellina, open the door,¡¯ my father calls coaxingly.


    Still sobbing, Carlotta shakes her head. ¡®What if there are more?¡¯


    ¡®I will take you home where you will be safe.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯ll never be safe,¡¯ Carlotta says.


    ¡®Madonna Carlotta, open this door,¡¯ my father says in a voice he never uses with my sister.


    The door opens. ¡®Pap¨¤,¡¯ Carlotta cries.


    ¡®Come here, princess, Pap¨¤ has you.¡¯ Our father pulls Carlotta out of the car. I don¡¯t see it, but I feel the movement behind me. ¡®Catalina put that damn gun down before you shoot someone.¡¯


    I can¡¯t let go of the gun. I can¡¯t move at all.


    Because I already shot someone, didn¡¯t I? I don¡¯t know if he¡¯s dead. I¡¯m waiting for someone to check his pulse. No one does.


    ¡®For God¡¯s sake. Bring her back to the house,¡¯ my father orders someone.


    ¡®Yes, sir,¡¯ Marco, one of my father¡¯s men, says. ¡®Miss Jni,e with me.¡¯ After a couple of seconds, he adds. ¡®Please.¡¯


    I hear a car pull away, tires rumbling over the gravel on the side of the road.


    I don¡¯t move.


    ¡®Miss Jni,¡¯ Marco says, his tone strange.


    ¡®You have to check,¡¯ I say.


    ¡®Check what?¡¯ Marco asks.


    ¡®His pulse. You have to see if he¡¯s dead.¡¯


    ¡®Who?¡¯ Marco asks. ¡®Your father¡¯s men? They are both headed toward the hospital.¡¯


    He doesn¡¯t mean a regr hospital. That¡¯s not how it works. The mafia has a private clinic here on Long Ind and a fully functional hospital in the city. I wonder which one he means, but I don¡¯t ask.


    ¡®Him,¡¯ I say, jerking the gun like a pointer toward the man I shot.


    ¡®Move,¡¯ I hear. Then the sound of shuffling.


    ¡®You did well, Catalina.¡¯ That¡¯s not Pap¨¤¡¯s voice. It is a voice that should not affect me, but it does.


    Tension bleeds from my body and suddenly I¡¯m able to turn my head.


    Don De Luca crouches beside the open door, his expression unreadable. ¡®You can let go of the gun now. You and your sister are safe.¡¯


    ¡®Is he dead?¡¯ I ask.


    He knows who I mean. I can see it in the don¡¯s expression. Don De Luca¡¯s lips thin, like he doesn¡¯t want to answer, but he says, ¡®Yes.¡¯


    ¡®I didn¡¯t mean to kill him,¡¯ I admit. ¡®I had to stop him though.¡¯


    Will the don think I am weak? His men would not have hesitated to kill the masked man. But I am not a made man.


    ¡®You did well,¡¯ he says again.


    ¡®I did?¡¯


    ¡®You did.¡¯


    My fingers, curled so tightly around the gun, rx.


    ¡®That¡¯s good, Catalina.¡¯


    The approval in his tone allows me to release my frozen hold on the gun. It falls, thunking against arge piece of ss that rests on the carpeted area behind the headrests.


    A big warm hand curls around my upper arm. ¡®Come here, Catalina.¡¯


    That touch breaks through thest of my paralysis and I turn to surge toward the don. He guides me out of the car. ¡®Are you alright?¡¯ he asks.


    I stare up at him, unable to make my dry mouth form words, but I nod.


    ¡®You have ss in your hair, can I brush it out?¡¯


    I nod again.


    He does it with gentle movements. ¡®We have to go. We don¡¯t want to be here when the cops arrive.¡¯


    I force a word out, ¡®Carlotta?¡¯


    ¡®Your father is taking care of her.¡¯ There¡¯s a strange quality to the don¡¯s tone. I don¡¯t know what it means.


    ¡®We can¡¯t leave, can we? I shot someone. The police will want my statement.¡¯


    ¡®There will be no statements.¡¯


    I look around and realize that the bodies are either gone or being carried toward the SUVs that arrived with my father and the don. The mafia Soldiers are efficient and fast. I realize that if the cops doe, there will be nothing for them to find.


    I follow the don toward a ck Porsche Cayenne with tinted windows. I know the make because my father was angry when the don bought it because it cost more than his Mercedes Maybach. It¡¯s armored and has bullet proof tires. Pap¨¤ insisted on getting them on his own SUV as soon as he learned the don had gotten them on his Cayenne.


    My father is bothpetitive and vain. I notice his SUV is nowhere to be seen. He and Carlotta are already gone. He left me. It¡¯s not unexpected, but it sucks. Even when my life has been threatened, my father can¡¯t find a modicum of concern for his oldest daughter. Well, I guess he did tell Marcus to bring me back to the house.


    I find myself sitting next to the don in the back of his SUV, his driver and a guard are in the front.


    ¡®Where¡¯s Marcus?¡¯


    ¡®In the SUV in front of us.¡¯


    I recognize it. It¡¯s one of my father¡¯s. Another SUV pulls out behind us.


    It¡¯s weird, the way the don is taking care of me. Does he feel responsible for me because I am his fianc¨¦e¡¯s sister or because I¡¯m his consigliere¡®s daughter? I know it¡¯s not personal. It can¡¯t be. I¡¯m nothing to him.


    ¡®Don¡¯t you have to stay, to take care of all that?¡¯ I wave my hand toward the back, not turning to look at the receding scene behind us.


    ¡®Aldo will handle it,¡¯ he says.


    ¡®Whose Aldo?¡¯ I ask.


    ¡®One of my men.¡¯


    ¡®Oh. You must trust him.¡¯


    ¡®I do.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s good.¡¯


    ¡®Who taught you to shoot?¡¯ he asks when I don¡¯t say anything else.


    ¡®My zio.¡¯


    ¡®He¡¯s a smart man.¡¯


    I nod.


    ¡®But he didn¡¯t teach your sister to use a gun?¡¯


    ¡®He and Pap¨¤ don¡¯t always see eye to eye.¡¯ Is that an exnation? I don¡¯t know, but it is the truth.


    ¡®I am d in this instance that your uncle did not listen to my consigliere.¡¯


    Because Carlotta is okay. That makes sense. The approval in the don¡¯s tone warms my insides, dissipating the chill of shock.


    ¡®Will you teach your daughters to shoot?¡¯ I ask, curious.


    ¡®S¨¬. I will also make sure they always travel in an armored car as you and your sister will do going forward.¡¯


    I¡¯m sure my father will not be happy about that. The only armored vehicle he has in his fleet is his personal SUV.


    ¡®I will provide the car and bodyguards,¡¯ Don De Luca says, like he knows what I¡¯m thinking. ¡®It is my prerogative as your sister¡¯s fianc¨¦.¡¯


    That isn¡¯t going to make it any easier for my father to swallow. I don¡¯t look forward to navigating his temper for the next couple of months.

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 13

    New York City, New York


    Mancini Mafia


    GUILIA


    I can hear my son¡¯s excited voiceing from the living room as the elevator doors open onto Severu¡¯s level of the penthouse.


    ¡®Look, Miss Connie!¡¯ Neri puts his Deadpool figure in the center of the train track and holds it there.


    When the train enginees around, it hits the figure and derails, falling on its side, its wheels still spinning.


    My son dances around in glee. ¡®Didja see? Didja see?¡¯


    ¡®Yes, he won again,¡¯ the blonde woman replies with an indulgent smile.


    A fully trained bodyguard, Connie Dane has been Neri¡¯s nanny since birth. My son adores her.


    And the feeling is mutual.


    ¡®Look, Neri, your mamma and nonna are back.¡¯ Connie rises gracefully from her spot on the floor near the train track.


    She dusts off the seat of her cks, though I doubt very much there is a speck of dirt on Severu¡¯s floor.


    My son jumps up and runs over to throw himself against my legs in an exuberant hug. ¡®I missed you Mamma.¡¯


    ¡®I missed you too, ometto.¡¯ My little man. I bend to lift Neri up to hug him back just as tight. ¡®You were still napping when I left, or I would have taken you with me.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t need a nap,¡¯ Neri says forcefully.


    It¡¯s a familiar argument and one my little man is not going to win anytime soon. Overtired, Neri can rival any made man¡¯s temper.


    ¡®Your zios Severu and Miceli took naps until they turned five,¡¯ my mother says.


    ¡®They did?¡¯ Neri asks suspiciously.


    His nonna smiles and kisses both his cheeks before saying, ¡®Yes. And Miceli was like you. He tried to get out of his naps, but Severu never did.¡¯


    That has my son¡¯s active brain whirling, I can tell. My oldest brother is only second to his father in Neri¡¯s hierarchy of heroes. He adores Miceli too, but Neri is in awe of Severu.


    I mouth, ¡®Thank you,¡¯ silently to my mother over Neri¡¯s shoulder.


    She gives her familiar Mona Lisa smile and nods. ¡®I need to get ready. I am meeting some capos¡¯ wives for tea.¡¯


    Aria De Luca¡¯s social calendar is daunting. I enjoy the whirlwind of activity with her when I am in New York but can¡¯t attend everything. I¡¯d never see my son otherwise.


    Besides, I¡¯m not sure anyone could keep up with my mother and her social engagements.


    Neri squirms in my arms and I let him down.


    Throwing a greeting to Lara over his shoulder, he rushes back to the center of therge living room. His toys are spread out on a thick art deco carpet and the coffee table that is usually there has been moved under the window.


    My bodyguard returns the greeting and takes up a position near the entrance of the room.


    Things have been cool between us since the appointment with Dr. Hewitt. Lara apologized for not telling me what the appointment was for, as did my assistant, who I left in Vegas for this trip.


    I would have left Lara too, but Raff would not hear of it.


    I¡¯m sure neither will make the same mistake again, but I¡¯m not one of those people whose temper burns hot and bright and then dissipates. It takes me time to get over genuine anger.


    Miceli says I can hold a grudge better than he can hold a gun. Considering how deadly my brother is, the implication isn¡¯t lost on me.


    I kick off my heels and settle on the floor near where Neri is ying. My narrow skirt forces me to sit with my knees bent and my legs off to one side. Not nearly asfortable as Connie is in her dark pantsuit designed for ease of movement while looking professional.


    But I¡¯m used to it. This way, I can get up and back into my heels in seconds if anyone outside the family arrives.


    Neri enacts a fight sequence between his superhero figurine and the remaining train cars. ¡®Deadpool is the bestest!¡¯


    The antihero superhero is Neri¡¯s favorite of all of them and he never goes anywhere without the action figure. Considering all of the men he most looks up are themselves more Deadpool than Captain America, it makes sense he¡¯s so enamored with the mask wearing superhero.


    Neri zooms across the living room and stops in front of my bodyguard. ¡®Look, Lara. He¡¯s the bestest and the strongest. Just like Pap¨¤.¡¯


    Lara nods. ¡®I see that, polo.¡¯


    My son shoves one of the other action figures out toward me. ¡®You be him, Mamma.¡¯


    Soon, my figure is in a mortal battle with Neri¡¯s. My son¡¯s wins, of course and he crows in victory.


    Looking like the perfectly put together mother to the don that she is, Mammaes into the living room, her heels tapping with each rapid step. ¡®Connie, I believe the chef has some chocte chip cookies fresh from the oven she wants Neri¡¯s opinion on.¡¯


    Realizing immediately that my mother wants to talk to me without my son present, Connie jumps up and says, ¡®What about it, Neri? Are you up for taste testing some cookies?¡¯


    ¡®Yes!¡¯ Neri starts running toward the kitchen.


    ¡®No running,¡¯ my mother mildly rebukes.


    While I say, ¡®Keep it to a walk, ometto.¡¯


    Neri slows down. Barely. And is soon out of sight.


    ¡®What is it?¡¯ I ask my mother in a quiet voice. Just because I can¡¯t see my son, doesn¡¯t mean our voices can¡¯t carry.


    ¡®Carlotta and her sister were attacked on their way back to Long Ind.¡¯


    I jump to my feet. ¡®Are they okay?¡¯


    ¡®What happened?¡¯ Lara asks,ing to stand less than a foot away.


    ¡®They are fine physically.¡¯ Mamma shakes her head. ¡®Their attackers shot out a tire on their car and forced them off of the road. Both bodyguards were wounded, but they managed to take out three of the four assants.¡¯


    ¡®What about thest one?¡¯


    ¡®Catalina shot him.¡¯ My mother¡¯s tone isced with shock.


    I¡¯m not surprised though. Catalina has a depth to her that iscking in her younger sister. Whether it is the six years difference in their ages, or simply a matter of temperament, I don¡¯t know.


    ¡®But they are both alright?¡¯ I ask.


    Mamma nods. ¡®Nevertheless, we should send a care basket to them.¡¯


    ¡®Good idea. I¡¯ll arrange it while you are at your tea.¡¯


    ¡®Severu insisted I cancel my engagements for this afternoon and evening. He doesn¡¯t want either of us leaving until he¡¯s determined the motive behind the attack.¡¯


    ¡®I have my appointment with the OB tomorrow,¡¯ I say. ¡®I cannot miss it, but I¡¯ll take extra security with me.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯ll arrange details with Matteo,¡¯ Lara says, mentioning Severu¡¯s head of security. ¡®We have a team of four with us and will need four additional men from the don.¡¯


    I don¡¯t argue over the size of detail she wants to take. It wouldn¡¯t do any good if I did, but in this instance, I agree that more is better.


    I don¡¯t want any of my guards ending up wounded, or worse, because we aren¡¯t ready for an attack.


    RAFFAELE


    I read the text from Lara with disbelief. My brother-inw¡¯s fianc¨¦e and her sister¡¯s car was forced off the road. Both women are fine, but Severu has yet to determine who is behind the attack and what their motivation is.


    A quick look through my notifications confirms that my wife has not called or texted in the hour since Lara sent her message. In a meeting with one of my capos, I did not see the text until now because Lara didn¡¯t use urgency protocols sending it.


    I will discuss that oversight with herter.


    There is also a voicemail from Miceli and I listen to it. He gives a few more details than Lara¡¯s text and tells me that Severu has the house on lockdown.


    However, there is no text from my wife. I know better than to expect a missed call from her.


    The first couple of years we were married, Giulia used to call me whenever she had a question, or wanted to tell me something. When she went to New York, she would call me each night.


    I didn¡¯t always answer. When her message didn¡¯t require any response on my part, I didn¡¯t return the call either. I thought I was being efficient.


    One day, she called me repeatedly but left no message. I finally picked up on her fifth attempt to reach me. Having just finished interrogating a man who had been skimming at one of our casinos, I wasn¡¯t in a great mood.


    She didn¡¯t ask what was wrong, like she usually would do. Not that I could tell her ny percent of the time, but the question soothed me all the same.


    This time, she asked why I had not picked up before.


    Like a fool, I told her I had more important things to do than answer personal phone calls throughout the day.


    She apologized for bothering me and said it wouldn¡¯t happen again.


    It took me untilter that evening to wonder why she had called me to begin with, much less so many times. But I didn¡¯t get a chance to ask her because it was three weeks before I saw my wife anywhere but in our bed at night.


    And when we are in bed, talking is not what I want to be doing.


    Four Years Before


    I am disappointed to see Giulia dressed to go out when Ie to the breakfast table. Thest three weeks have been hell.


    It all started with that miscreant, Paolo. He was the manager of one of our small, out of town, casinos and he stole over three-hundred-thousand dors before our redundancy ounting caught him.


    My father was so infuriated, he demanded an immediate in-person audit of all of our businesses, not just the casinos. I was busy from morning tote into the night, but it¡¯s finally done.


    We found three more casino employees that had to be dealt with and cremated afterward. Two dealers and one croupier were on the take.


    ¡®Do you have ns this morning?¡¯ I ask my wife.


    ¡®I¡¯m meeting with the director for the shelter benefitting from the uing casino night.¡¯


    It was Giulia¡¯s idea to make it a 1920s themed evening with famous mobster impersonators hired to mingle among the guests. She¡¯sundering more money for us than ever before with these charity events and manages to make arge donation to the benefitting charity too.


    When my aunt ran the events, most of the time the charity was just a shell organization for the Mancini mafia. Giulia agreed to take over the events only if she could donate 75% of the legitimate proceeds to actual charities.


    Since legitimate business is always a better cover for mob business, even my father agreed.


    ¡®Do you have time for lunchter?¡¯ I ask her.


    I¡¯ve missed my wife, which is not something I ever expected to feel when we got married two years ago.


    We¡¯re not in love. We married to cement ties between the Mancini mafia with one of the Five Families in New York. They have port ess on the east coast that we need, and we control necessary shipping routes through Nevada.


    She looks surprised by the question, but her expression tells me her answer before she shakes her head. ¡®I¡¯m sorry, but I don¡¯t.¡¯


    I don¡¯t ask about dinner. We¡¯re scheduled to eat with a group of our top lieutenants and their wives to celebrate the promotion of our newest capo. He¡¯s recing the man who should have been aware of the crooked casino employees.


    The former capo isn¡¯t dead, but he probably wishes he was.


    Giulia shuffles her silverware around her te and then looks up. ¡®I have something to tell you.¡¯


    ¡®What?¡¯ I ask, but my attention is on the way her fitted dress shows off her delectable breasts.


    Is this shelter director a man, or a woman?


    ¡®I¡¯m pregnant.¡¯


    She says it so calmly, that it takes a few seconds for her words to register. I jump up and grab her from her chair, kissing her until she¡¯s breathless and smiling.


    ¡®When are you due?¡¯


    ¡®In the fall. I¡¯ll be pregnant over the summer.¡¯ She pretends to pout, but the twinkle in her beautiful brown eyes belies theint.


    ¡®My father is going to be over the moon. You should call your mother. It will give her something good to think about.¡¯


    Don Enzo, my wife¡¯s father, died of a heart attack a year ago. Giulia spent more time than usual in New York,forting her mother.


    I can still feel the hollowness of his loss. When I spent four years training under Don Enzo in New York, we connected in a way I don¡¯t with my own father. Losing him was a blow to all of us.


    This baby will bring healing and hope to both of our families.


    ¡®I already told her,¡¯ Giulia says.


    Waiting for my father to answer his phone, I nod. My wife¡¯s words surprise me, though. Do women tell their mothers before their husbands that they are pregnant?


    My father is thrilled by the news. ¡®We¡¯ll announce it at the dinner tonight and have a drink to celebrate.¡¯


    I agree and hang up.


    Giulia is looking at me intently. ¡®What did your father say?¡¯


    ¡®He wants to announce it at the dinner tonight.¡¯


    She frowns. ¡®So soon?¡¯


    ¡®Why not?¡¯


    ¡®I wanted to hold onto it for a little while longer. To keep it just our news before it became all about the next Mancini mafia heir.¡¯


    ¡®But that is what he, or she, will be.¡¯ My father has backwards views on women, especially wives, or maybe it¡¯s just my mother.


    But if I¡¯d had a sister, she would have been trained to help run the business.


    Giuliays her hand on my arm. ¡®Yes, but our baby will be our child before he, or she, belongs to the family.¡¯


    It¡¯s a sweet sentiment, but not a true one. ¡®You know the mafiaes first.¡¯


    ¡®Here, more than anywhere else, I think.¡¯ Her lovely features are cast in sadness.


    Is she thinking about her father again?


    It¡¯s onlyter, after my wife leaves for her meeting, that I wonder if this was what she wanted to tell me that day she blew up my phone but refused to leave any messages.


    Present Day


    ¡®Call Giulia,¡¯ I tell my phone.


    She picks up on the second ring.


    ¡®Why the hell didn¡¯t you text me?¡¯ I harshly demand.


    Silence greets me. And then, ¡®Hello, to you too, Raff.¡¯


    My teeth grind. ¡®Don¡¯t, Giulia.¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t what? Be polite?¡¯


    ¡®You should have texted me as soon as you heard about what happened.¡¯ Hell, she should have called me, but we both know that isn¡¯t going to happen.


    ¡®Why?¡¯


    Did she really just ask me that? ¡®Two women connected to your family were attacked. Why the hell do you think?¡¯


    ¡®Didn¡¯t Lara text you? I thought she would.¡¯


    Thought as in, Giulia wasn¡¯t sure? ¡®Did she tell you she would?¡¯


    ¡®No, but I assumed.¡¯


    Which means my wife did not know for certain that anyone would contact me and tell me what was happening in New York. And she apparently didn¡¯t think it was important enough for me to know to ensure that I did.


    Fury explodes inside me, but I force myself to keep my voice calm. ¡®Is this about the appointment with Dr. Hewitt?¡¯


    ¡®How would the Jni women being attacked have anything to do with a dead doctor?¡¯


    She¡¯s pretending ignorance, but I¡¯m not fooled.


    When she¡¯s riled, my wife can hold a grudge with every fiber of her stubborn being. It has been four years since the day I foolishly told her I had more important things to do than talk to her on the phone.


    She has not called me once in all that time.


    If I don¡¯t call her when she¡¯s in New York, then we don¡¯t talk.


    She texts me, though not often. It is not the same. I miss the calls I used to consider superfluous. I¡¯ve told her I like to hear her voice. I¡¯ve even said it would be nice if she called me asionally.


    She smiles and nods and does not call.


    This is different though. This is her damn safety.


    ¡®What time will you arrive tonight? I¡¯ll have extra security meet you at the airport.¡¯ I will be there too.


    ¡®We aren¡¯t flying back until Sunday night.¡¯


    ¡®No. You weren¡¯ting home until Sunday. Now, you are getting your beautiful ass on a ne with our son and flying home to Vegas.¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯


    ¡®Giulia,¡¯ I growl.


    ¡®Because of this whirlwind wedding nning, I had to reschedule the appointment with my OB to tomorrow.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t care. You need toe home.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m not having my IUD removed by a stranger.¡¯


    My stubborn wife. Her obstetrician is based in New York, though she made trips to Las Vegas to oversee my wife¡¯s pregnancy with Neri. The OB flew in once a month until Giulia was eight months pregnant. Then the doctor came to stay until Neri¡¯s birth.


    We provided her a penthouse to live in and king¡¯s ransom to focus solely on my wife¡¯s wellbeing.


    ¡®Your OB cane out to Vegas.¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯


    ¡®Then wait to get it taken out until your next trip to New York.¡¯ We would all be there for Severu¡¯s wedding. My wife could have it done then.


    ¡®I¡¯m sure your father would not approve of waiting an extra three months.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t fucking care. You are my wife and I want you safe.¡¯ My father may be don, but I am the ultimate authority over my wife. And she damn well knows it.


    This is about the Dr. Hewitt debacle. Killing him wasn¡¯t enough. Giulia still wants her pound of flesh. From me.


    ¡®I¡¯m safe here,¡¯ she says, like that should sway me. ¡®Severu will send extra guards with our security detail when I go to the doctor¡¯s tomorrow.¡¯


    ¡®Tomorrow? Has he learned the reason behind the attack then?¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯


    ¡®Cancel the appointment.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s not happening.¡¯ She huffs out a sigh. ¡®We can¡¯te back tonight anyway. Have you forgotten? The jet returned to Las Vegas so your father could use itst week.¡¯


    ¡®Use Severu¡¯s jet.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re being ridiculous. Both Neri and I are perfectly safe here.¡¯


    I¡¯m done arguing. I know when my wife is being intransigent and when she¡¯s willing to listen to reason. The only way she¡¯s getting on a ne is against her will. And the only person who will carry my resisting wife onto an airne is me.


    I text our pilot and tell him I want to be wheels up within the hour. We use a private airstrip, so we don¡¯t have to wait for a takeoff slot. However, the ground and flight crews have to hustle.


    ¡®I will see you in a few hours, Giulia. Do not leave your brother¡¯s house for any reason in the meantime.¡¯


    ¡®What? You can¡¯t fly to New York on a whim, Raff.¡¯


    ¡®The safety of my wife and child is not a whim, amate.¡¯


    ¡®You can¡¯t think I would ever put Neri¡¯s safety in jeopardy.¡¯ There is no mistaking the hurt in her tone.


    ¡®No, but yourself is a different matter and somehow you don¡¯t understand how important you are to both me and our son.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m well aware of how important my incubation abilities are to you.¡¯


    ¡®You are a hell of a lot more to me than a uterus.¡¯


    She makes a pfft sound and it infuriates me even more than her not contacting me about the attack. It is time my wife realizes that she is fucking vital to me.


    ¡®Do me a favor and be there, Giulia. That is unless you want to give me a stress rted heart attack.¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t say things like that! I already told you I¡¯m not leaving until the OB appointment tomorrow. I just don¡¯t know why you think you need to fly out here.¡¯


    ¡®You don¡¯t?¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯


    ¡®Think about it, wife.¡¯ I read the text telling me that the ne will be ready to go in twenty-five minutes. ¡®Ti amo.¡¯


    It¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve said the words, but not the first time I¡¯ve felt them. It would take a stronger man than me not to fall in love with my stubborn, temperamental, soft-hearted wife.


    I thought I didn¡¯t need to say it, that she knew. Like I know that she loves me.


    She gasps, her shock showing how wrong I am in that assumption. ¡®You did not just say that.¡¯


    ¡®Take a nap, amate, because when I get there, I¡¯m going to exhaust you showing it. Again.¡¯


    Does she think that men who have no feelings for their wives crave them like I crave her? I know I haven¡¯t said the words, but damn it if I haven¡¯t shown her with my actions.


    How has my highly intelligent wife missed it?

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 14

    New York City, New York


    Five Families


    SEVERU


    ¡®We were supposed to kidnap her.¡¯ The Albanian screams as Angelo tightens the mp around his balls.


    Blood is already pooled on the steel floor beneath where he sits tied to a metal chair.


    ¡®Her, not them?¡¯ I ask.


    The would-be kidnapper looks at me, fear registering. Considering his predicament, it is odd that he¡¯s more afraid to answer me than deal with Angelo¡¯s methods of extracting information.


    Then it hits me. ¡®You were supposed to kidnap my fianc¨¦e.¡¯ The man doesn¡¯t answer, but I don¡¯t need him too. He already has. ¡®What about her sister, what were you supposed to do with her?¡¯


    He tries to shrug but his broken vicle makes the move disjointed and causes his face to twist in a rictus of pain. ¡®We were supposed to leave her, I guess.¡¯


    ¡®Why don¡¯t I believe you?¡¯ I ask, inexplicable fury roiling in my gut.


    I don¡¯t let it show. I am not ruled by my emotions.


    Angelo takes one of the man¡¯s fingers and slides it into the tool he uses to remove them. If he presses the handles together a strong, sharp de will slide up and cut right through the flesh and bone.


    ¡®Don¡¯t. Please,¡¯ the man begs. He¡¯s already lost two. ¡®I am not lying. Our instructions were to let her go and only take the sister.¡¯


    ¡®And was that your n?¡¯ Miceli asks from where he is leaning against the wall, looking bored.


    The expression that crosses the Albanian¡¯s face is all the answer I need. His crew had no intention of letting Catalina go. They nned to take her too, probably to sell her.


    New York Cosa Nostra stays out of human trafficking, but there are plenty of gangs and cartels that operate in and around the city who don¡¯t observe those limits. Including the Albanians ¨C who don¡¯t just work with the Irish, but are in bed with fucking Russian bratva.


    ¡®What were you going to do with her before you sold her?¡¯ I ask in a deadly quiet voice.


    ¡®Nothing.¡¯


    The sound of his finger being severed is followed by another scream and more blood spilling onto the floor. Angelo cauterizes the wound so the Albanian doesn¡¯t bleed out before we¡¯re ready for him to die.


    The smell of burning flesh assaults my nostrils, but I don¡¯t react. That would be weak and a don never shows weakness.


    ¡®I don¡¯t believe you,¡¯ I tell the now crying man and wait to see if he answers.


    ¡®We were going to take turns with her,¡¯ he admits. ¡®You got to break them before they¡¯re any use in a brothel.¡¯


    Fuck that shit. The idea of the surprisingly fierce woman being touched by this piece of garbage and his buddies makes my vision go red with rage. I punch him in the face so hard, his head snaps back and we have to use smelling salts to wake him up again.


    ¡®Who hired you?¡¯ Angelo demands as soon as he wakes.


    ¡®I don¡¯t know,¡¯ the man says. Again. His ent has gotten thicker the longer he is tortured. ¡®It was anonymous through the web.¡¯


    I know his crew makes money as hired muscle, usually for organizations that don¡¯t want a direct connection whatever is going down. Like kidnapping a don¡¯s fianc¨¦e.


    We continue the interrogation but get nothing else of use out of him. The closer he gets to death, the more he slips into Albanian. Not one of the sixnguages I speak, but Miceli is familiar enough with it to shake his head, indicating nothing said is useful.


    When we are done, I walk behind him, grab his head and twist until the bones of his neck crack, the break killing him.


    We drop him into the pit under the floor and leave the box.


    Back in my office, thirty-two floors above the box, Miceli asks me, ¡®Is it true that Catalina killed one of the kidnappers?¡¯


    I nod. ¡®Her uncle taught her how to shoot a gun.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s pretty badass. Maybe you should have picked the older sister,¡¯ Miceli jokes.


    I don¡¯t smile. I¡¯ve thought the same thing, but ultimately, it¡¯s better this way. I want a wife who will not interfere with my life. Catalina calls to something inside me that feels too much like a heart.


    She is dangerous. Carlotta is not. The younger sister is demur with no hidden depths like her sister, nothing to spark a passion I do not want to feel.


    I am don. I do not indulge in emotions better left to others.


    CATALINA


    Carlotta is inconsble tonight and insists I sleep with her. I don¡¯t mind really. We have less than three months together before her marriage. Before I leave New York for good.


    I¡¯ve been researching ces to live. ording to my sources, Mississippi has the lowest cost of living, so my nest egg wouldst the longest. However, Colorado and Massachusetts have the strongest job market.


    I wouldn¡¯t even know to look into these things if it weren¡¯t for the online seminar I watched on setting goals and making ns to achieve them. It seemed like an infomercial for the woman¡¯s book at first, but she gave some pretty good tips.


    I even read her book. On my ereader, of course. I don¡¯t need anyone in the family seeing a book like that lying around in my room.


    I¡¯ve read everything I can about living economically because that is not something even Zio Giovi is going to teach me. No one in my family ever has to worry about money.


    Although Washington state is down the list for both affordable cost of living and job opportunities, it is still in the top ten and has the added benefit of being on the other side of the country.


    My chances of disappearing are better if I go to arge city with which we have no familial or business ties. Like Seattle. There¡¯s mafia in Seattle, but they are Camorra and there¡¯s no chance I¡¯ll be recognized by someone I know there.


    ¡®Are you asleep?¡¯ Carlotta asks in the semi-dark. She insists on having a night light on tonight.


    I would prefer the peace ofplete darkness, but it¡¯s her room.


    Turning to face her, I say. ¡®No.¡¯


    ¡®Will my life always be like today?¡¯ she asks, her eyes growing shiny with tears.


    Having just got her calmed down less than hour ago, I nearly groan, but I hold it in and force a smile. ¡®No. Today was an anomaly.¡¯


    ¡®An anomaly we¡¯ve trained for since we were children.¡¯


    I can¡¯t deny that. ¡®It¡¯s the life in the mafia.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t want this life.¡¯


    ¡®You mean life in the mafia?¡¯ I¡¯ve thought about taking Carlotta with me when I leave.


    Only, as much as I love my sister, I don¡¯t think she is capable of living economically. She¡¯s too used to having what she wants when she wants it. The don can give her that.


    ¡®Not exactly. I love my family and friends,¡¯ she says. ¡®It¡¯s restricting being a mafia princess though. I don¡¯t want to be the don¡¯s wife.¡¯


    ¡®Are you sure about that? As his wife, you¡¯ll be the queen bee in the family. You¡¯ll be able to set fashion trends and live in a home even bigger than this one. You¡¯ll be able to go to ys and nightclubs.¡¯


    ¡®You think he¡¯s going to take me to nightclubs?¡¯ Carlotta demands, ignoring the rest because she knows it¡¯s true and the indecision on her face says she wants those things.


    ¡®Maybe not, but he¡¯ll let you make friends and as long as you don¡¯t do anything you shouldn¡¯t, I bet he¡¯ll let you go to clubs with them.¡¯


    ¡®I already have friends in the city,¡¯ she says petntly.


    I smile encouragingly. ¡®There you go then.¡¯


    ¡®I like the idea of being queen bee and all the rest,¡¯ she admits and then bites her lip. ¡®But I don¡¯t want to have to marry Severu to get it.¡¯


    Part of me wants to be patient and understanding. This is my little sister and she¡¯s understandably nervous about the future. But part of me simply can¡¯tprehend how blind she is to what a sexy and dynamic man it is she¡¯s marrying.


    ¡®You don¡¯t get one without the other,¡¯ I say as consolingly as I can.


    ¡®But today, we could have died. That never happened before I was engaged to him.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯ve never heard of it happening to his mom, or his sister, either.¡¯


    ¡®Just because we¡¯ve never heard of it, doesn¡¯t mean it hasn¡¯t happened. I¡¯m sure no one except immediate family will ever hear of what happened to us today either.¡¯ Carlotta flops onto her back and res at the ceiling.


    ¡®But they¡¯ve never actually been kidnapped or harmed, right?¡¯


    ¡®How do you know that?¡¯


    ¡®Because they are both living peacefully in their homes,¡¯ I point out.


    Carlotta harrumphs, clearly unconvinced.


    ¡®Would you run away if you could?¡¯ I ask reluctantly.


    I don¡¯t want to take her with me. She¡¯ll make everything harder, and our father will never stop searching for her, which will put my own freedom at risk. If we are caught, I have no doubt my father will kill me after torturing me.


    But if she says yes, I can¡¯t leave my sister behind to pay the price that makes my own escape from Pap¨¤¡¯s house possible.


    Carlottaughs a little hysterically. ¡®Right? Like I know how to function in the real world. Pap¨¤ has made sure we are totally unequipped to take care of ourselves.¡¯


    I know she¡¯s younger than me, but Carlotta has been out of school for a year. She could have spent time learning about how to navigate life outside the mafia if she¡¯d wanted to. Like I have. No, I haven¡¯t left yet, but I didn¡¯t want to leave my sister until I had to. Or my aunt and uncle. They love me, even if my father doesn¡¯t.


    ¡®I will talk to Aria about convincing Don De Luca to get you cooking sses,¡¯ I offer, hoping that will assuage my sister.


    She turns back to me, her face glowing with excitement. ¡®You will? There¡¯s a bunch of amazing culinary institutes in the city. I don¡¯t care which one I go to. I mean I have my favorite of course, but attending any of them would be a dreame true.¡¯


    ¡®What¡¯s your favorite?¡¯ I ask, wanting to keep this positive attitude going.


    ¡®Oh, you wouldn¡¯t know it,¡¯ she says vaguely. ¡®It doesn¡¯t matter anyway. Like I said, I¡¯d go to any of them. When I graduate, maybe I¡¯ll be able to create new dishes for some of the mafia owned restaurants.¡¯


    That sounds like a teenager¡¯s dream, not set in any kind of reality, but I smile anyway. She¡¯ll learn more than cooking techniques if she gets to attend culinary school. She¡¯ll learn the hierarchy in the kitchen.


    I watch a lot of cooking shows with my sister. From what I¡¯ve seen, I¡¯m pretty sure Carlotta would have to work her way up to creating dishes. It¡¯s not surprising that she hasn¡¯t drawn the same conclusion.


    In Carlotta¡¯s world, she can have and do what she wants. Except pick her own husband.


    ¡®I don¡¯t think it will be safe for a don¡¯s wife to work in a kitchen, even in one our restaurants.¡¯


    ¡®Oh, I don¡¯t want to work. Not like full-time, or anything. I want to experiment with food and preparation techniques.¡¯


    She¡¯ll be able to do that in her own home. The don can refurbish his kitchen to restaurant standards and I¡¯m sure he won¡¯t mind doing so. I get the feeling that he wants to do whatever he needs to in order to keep my sister upied and happy.


    And out of his hair.


    Even though I don¡¯t like thinking of her in that kind of passionless marriage, my worry for her future dissipates a little.


    ¡®If only I knew him better. I don¡¯t think the prospect of marrying him would be so scary.¡¯ Carlotta sighs. ¡®Though nothing is going to change that he¡¯s old enough to be my father.¡¯


    ¡®Only if he was a precocious teen.¡¯ The don is sixteen years older than her, not twenty. Stifling the little voice in my head that says the age difference between the don and myself is less daunting, I say, ¡®You¡¯ll get to know him before the wedding. Isn¡¯t that what the weekly dinners in his home are for?¡¯


    Carlotta has been to one dinner with the De Lucas and was supposed to go with our father again tomorrow. Will that still happen?


    Carlotta snorts. ¡®He and Pap¨¤ spent the whole timest week talking business and it will be the same at the next one.¡¯


    I want to grind my teeth in frustration. These dinners are for Carlotta to get to know her future husband, and Pap¨¤ ismandeering them with his usual self-serving attitude, oblivious to anyone else¡¯s needs. Even those of his favorite daughter.


    I¡¯ll be talking to Aria about more than Carlotta going to culinary school.

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 15

    New York City, New York


    Mancini Mafia


    GIULIA


    Knowing Raff will be arriving tonight, I don¡¯t even try to sleep. I didn¡¯t take a nap like he suggested either.


    Infuriating man.


    I don¡¯t understand why he¡¯s dropping everything toe to New York. Neri and I will be back in Las Vegas Sunday night.


    Raff must know that Severu will never allow anything to happen to his sister or nephew.


    I didn¡¯t tell our son that his pap¨¤ wasing to New York. If I had, we would have never gotten Neri to sleep tonight. He¡¯ll see Raff in the morning and be thrilled at the surprise.


    Waiting in the living area on the floor for extended family in my family¡¯s building, I answer emails and messages rted to the uing charity g. Raff texted forty-five minutes ago to say the jet hadnded and he was on his way. He should be here any minute.


    I¡¯m nervous. I don¡¯t know why.


    Something just feels different between us. I wish I knew what.


    The elevator dings and my heart speeds up.


    Dropping my phone on the asional table near the sofa, I surge to my feet.


    The doors open and my husband is there. Wearing his usual tailored suit, but no tie, he exudes power. He already carries himself like the don he will one day be.


    His dark hair and handsome face are so familiar and necessary, I feel an ache of both longing and recognition in my chest.


    The moment his grey eyes alight on me, they go molten. He crosses the space between us in two long strides and pulls me into his arms, his mouthing down on mine in a ferocious, iming kiss.


    Melting into his body, I kiss him back for all I am worth.


    The sound of his bodyguards walking past to drop off his luggage in our room, barely registers. Except to make me aware that other people are seeing us kiss like sex starved teenagers.


    Or a married couple deprived of each other¡¯spany for ten long days.


    Only, Raff is not usually big on PDA.


    Cupping my bottom, he lifts me against him and I let my shoes drop to the floor beforetching my legs around his torso. We start moving but I don¡¯t take my mouth away from his.


    The door to our room mming behind us breaks into my sensual haze and I finally separate my lips from his.


    Gone is the controlled, urbane man I married. In his ce is a ravenous beast whose gaze sears me.


    ¡®Raff.¡¯ His namees out on a puff of air as want courses through me.


    He lets me slide down his body but keeps me close. ¡®Amate.¡¯


    Beloved. There is that word again.


    He unzips my dress and tugs it down my shoulders. The floral crepe de chine slips from my body and pools around my feet on the carpet.


    I shove his jacket off of him and start working on the buttons of his shirt with fervent fingers. Raff unsps my bra and manages to remove it with minimal interruption to my efforts.


    Big, warm hands cup my breasts and squeeze. Pressing forward for more, I shudder with desire. A feral soundes from deep in my husband¡¯s chest sending wetness gushing from my core.


    Reaching down he rubs my folds through the silk of my panties. ¡®So wet, wife.¡¯


    ¡®You make me that way.¡¯


    ¡®Only me. No one else,¡¯ he growls.


    I don¡¯t know where this caveman moment ising from, but I lean forward and kiss his naked chest, biting just hard enough to leave a red mark. ¡®Only you, Raff.¡¯


    His trousers are in the way. He helps me get them off, our hands working in urgent tandem until he stands there gloriously naked. His big, muscled body gives off pheromones that have my vagina clenching and my heart racing.


    sping his big shaft, he runs his hand up and down the length. ¡®You make me so damn hard.¡¯


    Precum weeps from the tip and I want to taste it. I drop to my knees and do just that, reveling in the familiar vor. The essence of my husband.


    Knocking his hand away, I curve my fingers around his velvet covered hardness. This is mine. I¡¯ve got my own primitive responses going on inside me.


    My fingertips do not touch. They never do, unless he¡¯s soft. And he almost never is when we are naked together.


    Our gazes lock and I open my mouth to take more of his sex in. Ive my tongue back and forth on the underside of his penis and suck until my cheeks hollow out.


    ¡®Fuck, I¡¯ve missed you,¡¯ he growls.


    I pull my head back and my mouthes off of him with a pop. ¡®Me, or this?¡¯ I tease. And then take him back into my salivating mouth.


    His taste is addictive.


    ¡®It is all one package, amate. I¡¯m fucking addicted to your body, but when you are gone, I miss everything about you.¡¯


    The words settle into my heart like seeds that instantly bloom into something more.


    I grab his butt and pull him toward me, taking him to the back of my throat and swallowing. It took me a long time to be able to do this without gagging, but we both love it.


    He pulls back, allowing me to breathe before surging forward until his pelvis presses against my lips and his balls brush my chin.


    ¡®You are so perfect, amate.¡¯


    I need to breathe, but I don¡¯t shift away from him.


    He draws his hips back though, allowing me to suck in air through my nose. ¡®I miss your spitfire personality.¡¯


    I would smile, but my mouth is stretched too wide.


    ¡®I miss the sound of your voice.¡¯ He surges forward again, dominating my throat.


    Humming with approval, I draw another deep groan from my husband.


    ¡®I miss the sound of you breathing in the bed next to me.¡¯ His voice is hoarse, heavy with passion.


    I swallow over and over, bringing him to the brink.


    But he jerks back again, allowing me to take another breath.


    ¡®Look at me, wife.¡¯


    I shift my eyes up, his molten gaze, filled with emotion I don¡¯t dare name, trapping them. ¡®I miss the way you smile and how it lights up your gorgeous eyes.¡¯


    This time when he thrusts into my mouth, he shouts and hot, salty liquid shoots down my throat. I suck and lick him as he draws back, cleaning his still hard sex.


    He lifts me up and carries me to the bed. ¡®Your turn.¡¯


    My panties, the only piece of clothing I still have on, fly over his shoulder after he tears them from my body.


    I expect him to push my legs apart and assuage the growing ache in mydy bits, but he brings his body over mine, holding himself up on his arms. His lips find mine, but the kiss is tender. Passionate.


    ¡®I miss yourugh when Neri does something to amuse you.¡¯ He kisses down my neck, suckling up a love bite that will be a bruise tomorrow.


    I shiver in reaction.


    Raff moves down my body, kissing, licking, sucking, and nipping at my heated, sensitized skin. He suckles each nipple until I¡¯m begging for more and then he bites down gently with his teeth.


    I scream and my body convulses with a mini orgasm but Raff is not done with me.


    He keeps traveling down my torso, tormenting me with his mouth. And the words he¡¯s saying.


    They are too much.


    ¡®I miss holding you at night and waking with you wrapped around my body in the morning.¡¯ Finally, he presses my legs apart and pushes my legs up so my knees are bent.


    I know what ising next and I don¡¯t know what I want more. His mouth on my clit or the words he¡¯s using to seduce my heart along with my body.


    ¡®I miss this pink little pussy.¡¯ He inhales. ¡®Your scent.¡¯ He licks me from my bottom to my clit, slurping my juices from my folds. ¡®Your taste.¡¯


    He doesn¡¯t speak again for long minutes while his mouth and fingers drive me to first one and then another climax. I try to shift away as he continues to nibble and suck on my overused clitoris.


    Strong fingers lock down my thighs like manacles and Raff continues to pleasure me until my body explodes again in a cataclysm of pleasure. I am wracked with sobs of ecstasy and an overload of emotion.


    In a single powerful move, Raffes up my body and he settles on top of me, his penis pressing against my opening.


    He cups my face. ¡®You are alright, cara.¡¯


    Tears still streaking down my cheeks, I nod. I am beyond alright. I feel reborn in pleasure and love and it terrifies me.


    He ims my body with a single,manding thrust, forcing swollen tissues to give until his pelvic bone presses against my clit.


    I moan, my tears drying up. In this moment we are connected body-to-body, soul-to-soul and heart-to-heart.


    His expression is so fierce it could be either love, or hate. ¡®I miss your stubborn determination and your cranky reaction to be woken up too early.¡¯


    I reach up and cup his face. ¡®Raff.¡¯


    His name is love to me.


    He turns to kiss first one of my palms and then the other. ¡®I miss every single fucking thing about you when you are gone. You take it all away when you leave.¡¯


    ¡®Then maybe you shoulde with me,¡¯ I practically yell.


    He starts pounding into me. ¡®Maybe I should and maybe you shouldn¡¯t spend so much time in New York.¡¯ He¡¯s not yelling, but his tone is just as forceful.


    I cry out as he hits my cervix and I feel near painful pleasure coiling tight in my belly again.


    ¡®I¡­¡¯ There is no more room for words between us.


    Arching up, I meet Raff, thrust for thrust until every muscle in my body mps down in otherworldly ecstasy and I scream his name. He shoves deep inside and goes rigid. His shout is so loud it makes my ears ring.


    We stay like that for long seconds, the warm wetness of ourbined spend leaking out from my core around him.


    I reach up to kiss him and he meets me halfway, driving my head back into the mattress as he owns my mouth and lets me im his.


    Eventually, the fierce kisses turn gentle and our hands roam over each other in soft caresses. When our breathing has returned to something like normal, my husband pulls out of me and scoops me up from the bed.


    ¡®No,¡¯ I say.


    ¡®No what?¡¯


    ¡®No shower. I like smelling like us together. I¡¯ll shower in the morning.¡¯


    He is already moving so he can pull the duvet back on the bed. ¡®I know.¡¯

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 16

    New York City, New York


    Mancini Mafia


    GIULIA


    Once we are situated under the covers, facing each other, his hand on my hip and mine on his chest, he says, ¡®So, I wille with you to New York twice a year and you will not spend an entire month her in August.¡¯


    ¡®Las Vegas is so hot in August,¡¯ Iin, but my heart is pounding with what all of this means.


    ¡®New York isn¡¯t exactly an icebox.¡¯


    ¡®Okay.¡¯


    ¡®Okay?¡¯ He looks at me like he¡¯s trying to figure out the catch.


    ¡®Yes. I don¡¯t like being away from you either, Raff. If you are willing to carve time in your schedule toe with me and Neri twice a year, I am willing to give up my month in August.¡¯


    ¡®And the other week?¡¯ he asks, referring to the fourth trip I usually take.


    ¡®I won¡¯t n for a fourth week, but there may be times I have toe to New York without you.¡¯


    ¡®May be?¡¯ He presses.


    ¡®Not every year. Just sometimes. Like once Severu¡¯s wife has their first baby. I¡¯ll want toe out to visit and if it doesn¡¯t coincide with one of our joint trips, I¡¯ll still want toe.¡¯


    My husband gives a grudging grunt of what I assume is agreement.


    This moment feels profound, but I¡¯m afraid to analyze too closely why that is.


    ¡®We should sleep.¡¯ But the looks in his eyes makes it impossible for me to close my own.


    They reflect a raw emotion I never thought I would see in my husband¡¯s gaze. Only¡­it isn¡¯t new, I realize. I¡¯ve just never let myself see it before. I always dismiss this emotional intimacy as lust.


    He doesn¡¯t say anything, but his gaze stays locked on mine, as if he is willing me to acknowledge that emotion.


    ¡®You don¡¯t love me,¡¯ I blurt. But for the first time I doubt. Does he?


    ¡®Of course, I fucking love you, Giulia.¡¯


    ¡®You never said.¡¯


    ¡®Neither have you.¡¯


    Is he saying he knows I love him? Maybe he¡¯s pretending to feel the same, so I¡¯m not hurt. He¡¯s so protective, he would do something like that.


    He sits up and pulls me with him until I¡¯m sitting on hisp, my legs sideways over his thighs. ¡®Whatever you are thinking, stop it.¡¯


    ¡®You can¡¯t tell me what to think,¡¯ I assure him.


    His smile is devasting. ¡®There is the feisty woman I am married to.¡¯


    ¡®We got married to cement an alliance between our families.¡¯ There¡¯s no love in that.


    ¡®Only a fool would refuse to see you as anything more than the guarantor of an alliance,¡¯ he informs me. ¡®All evidence to the contrary, I am not fool.¡¯


    ¡®I never said you were.¡¯


    ¡®And yet, I have somehow convinced you that your only value to me is your ability to carry my child.¡¯


    ¡®If that¡¯s not true, then why send me to Dr. Hewitt?¡¯ That trauma inducing visit is certainly not evidence against Raff seeing me as a walking womb.


    ¡®I thought you were worried too but hadn¡¯t said anything.¡¯ His hand runs up my side in a distracting caress.


    ¡®How can you say you love me when you don¡¯t talk to me?¡¯


    ¡®I do talk to you, but I didn¡¯t about this and that was a mistake.¡¯


    Wow. He¡¯s admitted making a mistake for the second time in our marriage. Is this some kind of new precedent?


    Sighing, I admit, ¡®I should have told you about the IUD.¡¯ I¡¯ve had a lot of time to think in my lonely bed at night sinceing to New York. ¡®If I had told you what my OB said about waiting, you would never have pressured me.¡¯


    When ites down to it, Raff has never been willing topromise my safety, much less my health.


    ¡®No, I wouldn¡¯t have.¡¯ He kisses me quickly and softly, like he just can¡¯t help himself. ¡®You can trust me. I will always protect you.¡¯


    A lump forms in my throat. ¡®It doesn¡¯t always feel like it.¡¯


    ¡®Because of my father.¡¯ It¡¯s not a question.


    I nod anyway.


    Guilt shes across Raff¡¯s eyes. ¡®I made more than one wrong assumption.¡¯


    ¡®Okay, this whole admitting to being wrong is weirding me out. But also, what do you mean?¡¯


    He smiles. ¡®I expected you to know how important you are to me. I thought you would see my father¡¯s meddling in our lives as harmless, like I did.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re not a tolerant man.¡¯ Which is one of the reasons I believed I wasn¡¯t important enough to Raff to push back against his father. ¡®Why let him meddle at all?¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯splicated.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m sure I can keep up.¡¯


    He kisses me. Again. ¡®No doubt. When I returned to Las Vegas after training with your father for four years, my own was ready to hand over the reins, or so he thought.¡¯


    ¡®Patrizio is too controlling for that.¡¯


    ¡®He assumed that I would continue business in his image.¡¯


    ¡®But you didn¡¯t.¡¯


    ¡®No. While he was out golfing with his buddies and romancing histest mistress, I instigated a major shift in how we operated both our legitimate and mafia businesses.¡¯


    ¡®Those changes made things better.¡¯ Capos talk. So do their wives.


    Profits have steadily increased in the past few years and many of the wives have said they feel their families are safer with the new direction the mafia business is taking. Not a single made man in the Mancini mafia has gone to jail, much less prison, since I moved to Vegas.


    The Cosa Nostra in Nevada isn¡¯t as big as the Five Families in New York, but there are enough made men to make that an impressive statistic.


    ¡®They did.¡¯ Raff¡¯s shaft is hard again¡­did it ever go soft? And it¡¯s pressing against my hip.


    The man is one big distraction.


    Taking a deep breath, I attempt to focus on our conversation. It is important. ¡®That¡¯s a good thing, isn¡¯t it?¡¯


    ¡®Yes. However, by the time Neri came along, loyalties had shifted. With the exception of a couple of capos and their crews, the organization looked to me for leadership.¡¯


    ¡®But your father hadn¡¯t retired.¡¯


    ¡®Not in his mind, but the minds of his men? He had. He wasn¡¯t there for the day-to-day.¡¯


    ¡®He¡¯s still their don.¡¯ The vows taken by made men (even if they are women) are more binding than the promises made during a wedding.


    A man will be forgiven for cheating on his wife, but will die for cheating on his don.


    ¡®I am his son, his acknowledged heir and the underboss. He left me in charge of daily operations. Showing loyalty to me and our family, is not a betrayal of the don. He told his capos and the rest that I speak for him. Even his consiglierees to me first.¡¯


    ¡®I didn¡¯t know that.¡¯


    ¡®Because I didn¡¯t tell you. I should have.¡¯ He squeezes my waist infort? Acknowledgement?


    Or just because he likes touching me?


    This is not working.


    I shift around to straddle his thighs but keep my sex away from his. ¡®We should have talked about a lot of things.¡¯


    ¡®So, we will talk about them now.¡¯ He presses against my bottom, drawing me inexorably forward.


    ¡®Is it¡­uh¡­¡¯ His hardon presses against my still slick and swollenher lips.


    ¡®Is it what?¡¯ he asks, his voice rumbly with passion.


    Is what¡­um¡­what? Then I remember what I was trying to ask. ¡®Is it that easy?¡¯


    ¡®Yes.¡¯


    How is he talking so easily? ¡®You¡¯re so certain about everything.¡¯ And inhumanly resistant to the effects of his arousal.


    ¡®I learn from my mistakes.¡¯


    And apparently, he doesn¡¯t have any trouble admitting them. To me. Right?


    Just to confirm, I ask, ¡®Do you ever admit being wrong to anyone else?¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯


    As I thought. Warmth radiates out from my heart and suffuses my body. ¡®What now?¡¯


    ¡®Now you tell me why you insisted on staying in New York when I told you to bring our son home to Vegas.¡¯ All tolerantpromise has disappeared from his set masculine features.


    ¡®You¡¯re not my boss.¡¯ It¡¯s my kneejerk reaction but I was expecting him to talk about something else.


    Maybe even tell me he loves me again. Not take me to task for refusing to fly home today.


    ¡®When ites to your safety, I am.¡¯


    ¡®If you think that, why didn¡¯t you arrange for the use of my brother¡¯s jet and have me and Neri taken there by our security?¡¯ I might sound a little testy.


    ¡®Would you have gone without physical coercion?¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯


    ¡®There is your answer.¡¯


    ¡®So, you came to New York instead?¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t misunderstand, wife. I am here to bring you home. But the only one that will carry your resistant body onto that airne is me.¡¯


    ¡®You can¡¯t do that.¡¯


    ¡®Can¡¯t I?¡¯


    We both know he can. And more importantly, that he would.


    I cross my arms over my bare breasts, hiding them from his gaze as much as I am showing my annoyance with bodynguage. ¡®I¡¯m perfectly safe here with my family.¡¯


    ¡®I am your family.¡¯


    ¡®So are they.¡¯


    ¡®Neri and I are your primary family,¡¯ Raff says, no give in his deep tones.


    ¡®And am I your primary family?¡¯


    Raff kisses me. Hard. ¡®Yes.¡¯


    ¡®Then you should never have let your dad make that appointment with the fertility clinic.¡¯


    ¡®You are right.¡¯


    I am? I mean, I know I am. But he does too?


    ¡®The shift in the power dynamic in our syndicate has been hard on my father and I chose to let him meddle in our lives rather than business.¡¯ Raff sounds almost ashamed.


    ¡®That¡¯s a crappy thing to do.¡¯ How am I supposed to believe he loves me?


    Raff¡¯s smile isn¡¯t a happy one. ¡®Yes. But remember, I was operating on the false belief it would not hurt you.¡¯


    ¡®What did you think was going to happen?¡¯


    ¡®I damn well didn¡¯t think you would see allowing my father to insert himself into our lives as proof that I don¡¯t care about you.¡¯


    ¡®How was I supposed to take it? It sure as heck wasn¡¯t apliment, or proof that my opinions mattered to you.¡¯


    ¡®When did I ever dismiss your opinions?¡¯ He shifts my body against his, rubbing myher lips up and down his shaft.


    My clit is so sensitive that I jerk every time he brushes against it.


    ¡®Stop that.¡¯


    He stops moving me, but doesn¡¯t let me shift back on his thighs.


    I roll my eyes. ¡®Do you really have to ask that?¡¯


    ¡®Yes, I do. Even the appointment with Dr. Hewitt was made under the assumption you wanted to get pregnant. You¡¯d never told me otherwise.¡¯


    I think back to all the times my father-inw stuck his oar into my marriage. He insisted on me and Raff moving into the mansion Raff and his brother had been raised in. I¡¯d wanted to buy our own home and build our own memories.


    But I¡¯d never told Raff that.


    All the heavy hints about getting pregnant were annoying and I mentioned that to my husband, but how was Raff supposed to know that they hurt me as well? First, I didn¡¯t tell him and second, he had no idea I didn¡¯t want to get pregnant.


    Patrizio had inserted himself into the search for both Neri¡¯s preschool and then elementary school. However, my husband refused to simply go with his father¡¯s suggestions for either school. We made the decisions together, and neither brought up his father¡¯s stated opinions when doing so.


    My whole marriage, I¡¯ve taken Patrizio¡¯s interference as proof that Raff valued his opinion over my feelings, but looking back, I can¡¯t help seeing that my husband isn¡¯t the only one who should have done a better job ofmunicating.


    ¡®I¡¯ve been operating under some mistaken assumptions myself,¡¯ I admit.


    The hand not holding me pressed against him like a safety bar on an amusement park ride, brushes my hair back from my face with tender softness. ¡®That right there is only one of the many reasons I love you.¡¯


    He said it again. Why don¡¯t I say it back? What is holding the words inside me.


    ¡®What reason?¡¯ I ask instead.


    ¡®You are fair.¡¯


    ¡®Oh.¡¯


    ¡®You are also stubborn and hold onto a grudge like Super Glue.¡¯


    He is not wrong. ¡®Thank you.¡¯


    He chuckles and shakes his head. ¡®Both can be a strength,¡¯ he agrees.


    ¡®But they can also hurt me and the people around me.¡¯


    Raff doesn¡¯t reply, but I see in his stormy grey eyes that he¡¯s one of the people who has been hurt.


    ¡®I love you too, Raff. I always have.¡¯


    The lovemaking thates after my confession is no surprise, but the way he holds me after, listing all the things that made him fall in love with me? It¡¯s a lot. And one of the most amazing moments in our marriage. I will treasure his words forever.


    It is only fair for me to tell him what made me fall in love with him too.


    ¡®You loved me before we got married?¡¯ He sounds stunned.


    ¡®Yes.¡¯ He¡¯d lived in New York the four years I went to university.


    We¡¯d spent time together when I came home for visits and every summer, he was there. We didn¡¯t date. My father wouldn¡¯t have allowed us to spend time alone. My college was an all women campus.


    But I got to know Raff and what I knew I learned to love. Only now, I realize I didn¡¯t know him as well as I thought I did.


    And the love I feel for him is deeper and stronger than what I experienced before our marriage, despite the challenges that marriage has been to my emotional equilibrium.


    ¡®You should have flown home, Giulia.¡¯


    ¡®I told you, my OB appointment is tomorrow.¡¯

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 17

    New York City, New York


    Five Families


    CATALINA


    I call the don¡¯s mother the next day and after the initial pleasantries, I put the idea to her about Carlotta enrolling in culinary school.


    ¡®I¡¯m not sure how Severu would feel about that. It¡¯s not what youngdies in our family usually do.¡¯


    ¡®Neither is getting a bachelor¡¯s degree, but Guilia did before she married,¡¯ I point out.


    ¡®You are right. But why doesn¡¯t Carlotta bring this up to Severu herself?¡¯


    I almostugh, but I realize Aria is serious. Either she¡¯s blind to how my sister sees her son, or she¡¯s blind to how intimidating her son can be.


    ¡®Because he makes her extremely nervous,¡¯ I say with honesty. Pretending otherwise serves no one. ¡®That¡¯s something else I wanted to discuss with you.¡¯


    ¡®What do you mean?¡¯ Aria asks warily.


    Hmm¡­I wonder what she thinks I¡¯m going to say. ¡®Carlotta told me that when she came to your home for dinner, the don and my father spent most of the time discussing business.¡¯


    ¡®Nothing that shouldn¡¯t be discussed in front of a young woman, I assure you.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s not what I¡¯m concerned about. How is Carlotta supposed to get to know her fianc¨¦ when he spends all their time together talking to my father?¡¯


    ¡®She¡¯ll have a whole lifetime to get to know him,¡¯ Aria says patiently, like she thinks I should know this.


    But this isn¡¯t thest century, and my sister deserves to be wooed, if only for her very short engagement.


    ¡®I don¡¯t want my sister walking down the aisle terrified of what is toe,¡¯ I say bluntly.


    Aria sighs. ¡®Unfortunately, my son has the habit of discussing business whenever his men join us for dinner.¡¯


    ¡®Then maybe he should take Carlotta out to dinner alone.¡¯


    ¡®Like a date?¡¯ Aria asks, sounding amused. ¡®I¡¯m not sure he would take such a suggestion from me seriously.¡¯


    Well, he definitely won¡¯t if Aria herself finds the ideaughable. I ask, ¡®But you will talk to him about culinary school?¡¯


    ¡®Cooking sses at the very least,¡¯ she assures me.


    I thank her and ring off. Someone has to talk to Severu about acting like a fianc¨¦ and not just a don. If his mother won¡¯t do it, I know my father won¡¯t. Heck, he¡¯s part of the problem.


    I consider asking Zio Giovi to do it, but that feels cowardly. I am not a coward, no matter what my father wants to believe. I will call the don myself. I do ask my uncle if he has the don¡¯s cellphone number.


    ¡®No. I may be married to your aunt, but I¡¯m not one of his men,¡¯ he says to me. He doesn¡¯t sound bitter exactly, but for once he¡¯s not smiling when he¡¯s talking to me either. ¡®Why do you want it?¡¯


    ¡®Oh, I just need to ask him something about the wedding.¡¯ Since I¡¯m helping to n the wedding, that sounds believable.


    And technically, I¡¯m not lying. Having a good wedding requires a happy bride, at least by my estimation.


    ¡®I¡¯m sorry I can¡¯t help you.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s all right. Thank you, anyway, Zio.¡¯ I give him a quick peck on the cheek and turn to go, but he grabs my arm.


    I stop and look at him inquiringly.


    ¡®I haven¡¯t told you how proud I am of you for how you handled yourself yesterday. If you hadn¡¯t been there, your sister would have been taken.¡¯


    Or we both would have been killed. I shiver, but smile my thanks. ¡®You¡¯re the one that taught me to shoot.¡¯


    ¡®Your father isn¡¯t happy about that,¡¯ Zio says with a grimace.


    ¡®I know, but if I only did things that made Pap¨¤ happy, I would spend all day, every day, holed up in my room.¡¯


    Zio doesn¡¯t deny it. In fact, heughs. ¡®You¡¯ve got spunk, tesorina, despite how your father has tried to beat it out of you.¡¯


    It¡¯s the first time anyone has acknowledged to me aloud what my father does. Zia always pretends to think I¡¯m clumsy. Though it has been a long time since she¡¯s had to patch me up. I¡¯ve gotten very adept at avoiding Pap¨¤. Carlotta is eitherpletely unaware, or she too chooses to tell herself my injuries are somehow self-inflicted.


    But Zio has said the painful truth and my heart nearly bursts with all the feeling that acknowledgement provokes. I give him a spontaneous hug, squeezing him really tight. ¡®Thank you, Zio.¡¯


    ¡®You know I would stop it if I could.¡¯


    ¡®I know.¡¯ Like he said. He may live here, but he¡¯s not part of the New York mafia. Not really.


    And my father is the don¡¯s consigliere. Even if my uncle went to the don, Zio¡¯s word wouldn¡¯t be taken over my father¡¯s. And if it was, the only thing that would happen would be for the don to remove my father from his position. That would devastate my father, but it would not protect me, or my uncle, from his wrath.


    ¡®He hardly hits me anymore,¡¯ I reassure my uncle.


    ¡®You intimidate him because you don¡¯t cower.¡¯


    I think it¡¯s more because I¡¯m good at staying out of my father¡¯s orbit, but I don¡¯t mind my uncle believing I am stronger and more influential than I am. It feels good to have someone believe in me.


    ~ ~ ~


    I remind myself of that belief in my strength after I sneak into my father¡¯s room while he is showering before dinner. I use Carlotta¡¯s birthday to unlock his phone and quickly memorize the don¡¯s number before dropping the phone and leaving the room as silently as I entered it.


    It¡¯s the next day before I can call the don to talk to him about Carlotta.


    ¡®Yes?¡¯ he barks in an unfriendly tone when he answers.


    I don¡¯t let that deter me. He wouldn¡¯t recognize my number. ¡®Hello, Don De Luca, it is Catalina Jni.¡¯


    ¡®Catalina.¡¯ He sounds shocked. ¡®If you are looking for your father, he is not with me.¡¯


    ¡®No, I called to talk to you.¡¯


    ¡®About?¡¯ He sounds wary.


    ¡®My sister. She¡¯s nervous about the wedding.¡¯


    ¡®This sounds like something for my mother to handle.¡¯


    Is he kidding? No wonder Carlotta is finding it so difficult to get to know him.


    ¡®She¡¯s not marrying your mother,¡¯ I say, trying to keep my voice even, but unable to keep my annoyance out of itpletely.


    ¡®I am aware of that,¡¯ he says in an even tone.


    Theck of anger in his voice gives me the courage to continue. ¡®She needs to get to know you better. She still sees you primarily as her don and not as her fianc¨¦.¡¯


    ¡®I do not see the problem with that.¡¯


    ¡®You don¡¯t?¡¯ I ask, having difficulty keeping my voice respectful as I know I should. ¡®She¡¯ll be your wife soon.¡¯


    ¡®Is there a point to this phone call, Catalina?¡¯


    The way he says my name sends shivers through me and they are not from fear. It¡¯s a good thing I¡¯m running after the wedding. If his voice can do this to me, I have no business remaining anywhere in his and my sister¡¯s orbit.


    ¡®You need to take Carlotta on some dates.¡¯


    ¡®You want me to court her?¡¯ Incredulity infuses his tone.


    ¡®Is that so shocking?¡¯ I demand. ¡®You are her fianc¨¦.¡¯


    ¡®Exactly. We are already engaged. There is no point in a courtship.¡¯


    ¡®Not for you, maybe. But you are not a 19-year-old, afraid of marriage and the man she¡¯s supposed to spend the rest of her life with. Is it so much to ask that you take her out and let her get to know you? Let her see the softer side of your nature.¡¯


    ¡®I have no softer side to my nature,¡¯ he informs me in a hard voice.


    ¡®I don¡¯t believe that.¡¯ He was careful with me after the men attacked us. He was the reason I was able to let go of the gun and get out of the car.


    ¡®What you believe is irrelevant.¡¯


    The words hurt. Though there is no reason they should. After all, that is exactly what my father believes. My opinions are as irrelevant to him as I am.


    ¡®That may be so.¡¯ I cannot keep the hurt entirely out of my voice, no matter how hard I try. ¡®However, Carlotta is not.¡¯


    ¡®I did not say you are irrelevant.¡¯ He sounds offended. ¡®Merely that your belief about my character does not matter to the truth of who I am.¡¯


    Oh. It¡¯s weird having the don exin himself to me, but it sends a curl of warmth through my heart. Only my heart isn¡¯t the one he needs to prate.


    ¡®Please, think of Carlotta. Do you really want her terrified as she walks up the aisle?¡¯ I never plead with my father. I know it¡¯s useless. I can¡¯t help hoping Don De Luca will be different.


    ¡®Do you have a suggestion for these dates?¡¯


    Oh, my gosh, he¡¯s listening to me. He¡¯s willing to try.


    ¡®Maybe dinner at a trendy restaurant with a tour of the kitchen after?¡¯ I suggest.


    ¡®We have weekly dinners scheduled with my family.¡¯ He sounds impatient now.


    I don¡¯t let that deter me. ¡®Yes, where apparently you spend the entire time discussing business with my father.¡¯


    ¡®What else should I discuss?¡¯


    ¡®Anything that you can talk about with Carlotta, not your consigliere.¡¯


    ¡®I am a don. Carlotta must be ustomed to not being the center of my attention.¡¯


    ¡®No doubt,¡¯ I say, too frustrated to hold back my disdain. ¡®However, that should not mean that you ignore her entirely. I am sure your father did not treat your mother with such disregard.¡¯


    Aria would not be the confident, self-contained woman that she is if that were true.


    ¡®My father and mother were practically strangers when they wed.¡¯


    ¡®And I¡¯m sure if she could have had it differently, she would have.¡¯


    ¡®Fine, I will take Carlotta to dinner. Are you satisfied?¡¯


    ¡®With a tour of the kitchen?¡¯ I press.


    ¡®I will arrange a tour of the kitchen if you believe that will please her.¡¯


    ¡®I do.¡¯


    ¡®Are we done here?¡¯


    The I have more important things to attend to remains silent, but I hear it all the same. I don¡¯t care. He agreed to take Carlotta to dinner and do something that will make her happy. That¡¯s all that matters.


    ¡®Yes. Thank you for giving me some of your precious time.¡¯ Okay, maybe gratitude isn¡¯t the only thing I¡¯m feeling, but I managed to say the words without a bit of the sarcasm I feel.


    I¡¯m taking that as a win.


    He hangs up without saying goodbye. I don¡¯t know why that makes me smile, but it does. I have never seen the don be anything but meticulously polite when talking to women. My aunt. His mother. My sister. Myself.


    Hanging up without saying goodbye is definitely rude. It might be something he does with his men, but I doubt he has ever hung up on his mother without a proper word of parting.


    It should not make me feel so pleased to have gotten under his skin. But it does.

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 18

    New York City, New York


    Five Families


    SEVERU


    After the strange, but exhrating conversation with Catalina, I get another unexpected phone call.


    I slide my finger over the phone¡¯s screen to take the call from the New York Irish mob boss Brogan Shaughnessy.


    ¡®I hear that someone attacked your bride-to-be,¡¯ he says without a greeting.


    Rage brings everything in my office intoser focus. ¡®Brogan, you bastard. You think your family is safe after that?¡¯


    ¡®It wasn¡¯t my mob.¡¯


    ¡®Convince me.¡¯


    ¡®A team hit one of my betting establishments.¡¯


    ¡®I care why?¡¯


    ¡®Because although they wore masks, they were speaking Italian.¡¯


    ¡®None of my guys would be that sloppy. When I hit you, my men won¡¯t be hiding their faces and the only speaking done will be the bullets from our guns.¡¯


    ¡®I know.¡¯


    ¡®The fuck you do. You just used me of hitting your betting shop.¡¯


    ¡®No, I said it was hit by a team who spoke Italian. Badly, as it happens.¡¯


    I stay silent, my mind whirling, because ming the Irish for what has been happening is too easy.


    ¡®We¡¯ve held a truce between our families for more than a decade,¡¯ Shaughnessy says. ¡®Someone is trying to get us to go to war.¡¯


    ¡®To what end?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t know, but we have a better chance of figuring it out if we cooperate.¡¯


    ¡®What do you want?¡¯


    ¡®We work together to figure out who the bastards behind this shit are. They¡¯ve got someone in my outfit feeding them information.¡¯


    That¡¯s a big thing to admit. I don¡¯t take the bait and say I believe the same about my own syndicate. ¡®You¡¯ve got a rtionship with one of my people, or you wouldn¡¯t know about the attack against Catalina and Carlotta.¡¯


    ¡®I spy on you; you spy on me. It¡¯s the way it¡¯s always been done.¡¯


    I can¡¯t deny that. It¡¯s why I¡¯m unconvinced the would-be arsonist is part of Shaughnessy¡¯s mob. My information says otherwise.


    ¡®But ask yourself this: if I¡¯ve been spying on your syndicate since I signed that truce agreement in blood with your father, why aren¡¯t my hits more sessful?¡¯ the mob Boss asks. ¡®If I¡¯d gone after your fianc¨¦e, I¡¯d have her.¡¯


    His style is to hit and hit hard, just like my father¡¯s was. Like mine is. Shaughnessy would have sent two teams after the women, and they would have been taken, regardless of Catalina¡¯s abilities with a gun.


    If he had wanted to burn down one of my warehouses, he would have done it and his man would not have gotten caught because he wouldn¡¯t have been sent in with faulty intel.


    Is it possible the would-be arsonist hadn¡¯t been given the intel about our security upgrades, not because the informant didn¡¯t know about them, but because whoever hired him wanted an independent contractor, who happened to be Irish, caught?


    ¡®If you went after the women, I would burn your boroughs to the ground in retaliation.¡¯


    ¡®That you haven¡¯t says you¡¯ve already considered the probability that my mob isn¡¯t behind these attempts.¡¯


    He¡¯s right. Damn it.


    ¡®The bratva want my docks.¡¯ I¡¯m not telling him anything he doesn¡¯t already know.


    He replies, ¡®And they want my brothels for their sex ves. The fekkers.¡¯


    Neither the Irish mob nor my mafia engage in human trafficking, much less keep ves to work in any of our businesses. We are not good men, but we have our codes and we¡¯ve been living by them for generations.


    ¡®It could be the bratva,¡¯ I concede. ¡®But it was Albanians that attacked my fianc¨¦e and her sister. The surviving kidnapper imed to be hired by an anonymous source.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m sure your interrogation techniques got the truth out of him, but his own people could have set them up to believe his team was hired by an outside source.¡¯


    ¡®Yes.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯ll have my people do some digging.¡¯


    I don¡¯t bother saying I¡¯ll do the same. Shaughnessy knows I will. Whether either of us shares what we find is still up for question.

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 19

    New York City, New York


    Five Families


    RAFAELLE


    After texting Lara to tell her she is in charge of Neri¡¯s morning routine, I wake my wife with kisses.


    To her soft, delectable pussy.


    ¡®No, Raff. I¡¯m sore,¡¯ sheins.


    But she¡¯s the one enthusiastically riding me fifteen minutester. I tell her I love her just before her pussy walls tighten around my cock like a vice.


    Giulia¡¯s shout, ¡®I love you, Raff,¡¯ as shees, sends me over the edge right along with her.


    My beautiful wife soaks in a hot bath while I shower and is still floating, her gorgeous tits peeking through the bubbles when I¡¯m finished dressing.


    ¡®Are you ever going to get out?¡¯ I tease.


    ¡®Not anytime soon. My appointment with the OB isn¡¯t until after lunch.¡¯


    No doubt she made it to coincide with our son¡¯s nap. Giulia is a doting and present mother, so different from my own. My wife spends as much time with our son as her schedule allows.


    We both do, but he definitely sees more of his mother.


    ¡®I talked to your brotherst night on the flight over from Vegas. He said the target was his fianc¨¦e and not even her sister. That doesn¡¯t mean his enemies won¡¯t go after other women in his family, but he¡¯s downgraded security from red to yellow.¡¯


    ¡®Oh, joy. That means I get to take eight guards with me to the doctor¡¯s office.¡¯


    ¡®I didn¡¯t say I agreed with Severu¡¯s assessment,¡¯ I remind her.


    Giulia has been my wife for six years. It is time she stopped seeing her brother as an authority in her life.


    ¡®Do you?¡¯ She crosses her arms over her chest.


    She does that when she¡¯s mad because she knows how much I enjoy seeing her naked tits. My wife is a firecracker and I love her.


    ¡®I do.¡¯


    Giulia rolls her eyes. ¡®Does that mean you aren¡¯t going to cart me back to Las Vegas as soon as I¡¯m dressed?¡¯


    ¡®We can stay until Sunday, like you nned.¡¯


    ¡®Good. I didn¡¯t want to reschedule my appointment.¡¯


    ¡®About that. Are you sure you are ready to try for another baby?¡¯ I¡¯m not taking anything for granted with my wife again.


    Her hands sliding away from her breasts, she sits up in the water. ¡®Aren¡¯t you?¡¯


    ¡®My willingness to be a father again is not in question.¡¯


    ¡®I want more children, Raff. I just didn¡¯t want them too close together.¡¯


    I kneel beside the tub and cup her face because I can¡¯t not touch her. ¡®I know. What I¡¯m asking is if it¡¯s still too close? You don¡¯t have to take the IUD out yet. They¡¯re safe for five years, aren¡¯t they?¡¯


    ¡®Actually, the copper one I have can remain in the uterus for up to ten years.¡¯


    Neri is only three. ¡®Which means that the only thing that matters is if you want to remove it.¡¯


    ¡®I decided to have it removed before my trip, remember?¡¯


    ¡®But did you make that decision because you want another baby right now, or because you felt obligated to fulfill our father¡¯s agreement?¡¯


    She doesn¡¯t answer immediately, which lets me know she¡¯s thinking about it. I don¡¯t assume either way. I¡¯m done making assumptions with my wife. Which is why I¡¯m asking.


    ¡®I want another baby. I¡¯d like our children to be close enough to share their childhood.¡¯


    A feeling very much like joy surges through me. ¡®Okay, then. I will apany you to your doctor.¡¯ As well as a fullpliment of my men.


    ¡®Lara said she would talk to Matteo about using some of Severu¡¯s people for the detail.¡¯


    ¡®I brought enough guards to keep you and our son safe.¡¯ Giulia has a four-person security team with her, including Lara. I brought an additional eight.


    I¡¯m taking no chances with my wife and son¡¯s safety.


    Neri is overjoyed to see me when Giulia and I finally leave the room. We y with our son until lunch time, though I have to take a few calls and answer some emails. It¡¯s not as bad as it would have been a year ago, when I started training a both a junior CEO for our legitimate businesses and promoted one of my men to consigliere, giving us a council of three.


    My man acts more as my second inmand. Eventually, my father is going to have to hand the reins over officially. But until he does, I will make the necessary work arounds.


    He and I don¡¯t see eye-to-eye on how to run the business, but he is still my father and the don. I made my vow to him the same as every other made man.


    GIULIA


    I knew having Raff with me to get my IUD removed wasn¡¯t the best idea, but there was no leaving him behind. I tried, suggesting he take the time to get some work done.


    I swear sometimes no is my husband¡¯s favorite word. That must be where our son gets it from.


    ¡®You are not going into the exam room with me.¡¯


    ¡®I went to your appointments when you were pregnant.¡¯


    ¡®That was different.¡¯


    ¡®How?¡¯


    I¡¯m stumped. Then ites to me. ¡®Because at those appointments, you got to hear the baby¡¯s heartbeat and see the ultrasounds.¡¯


    Which he insisted on having at every single appointment.


    ¡®Yes, I did, but that is not the only reason I apanied you.¡¯


    Here we go. ¡®Why else then?¡¯


    ¡®Because no one is looking at your pussy without me present. Man, or woman.¡¯


    ¡®You make Cro-Magnon man look advanced sometimes, cuore mio.¡¯


    The expression thates over Raff¡¯s face when I call him my heart would be frightening. If I didn¡¯t know all that intensity is out of love for me.


    But the man looks like he wants to eat me.


    Right here.


    ¡®Not happening,¡¯ I tell him.


    He looks like he¡¯s considering convincing me otherwise, but finally he nods. Phew!


    However, I don¡¯t try to convince him to stay in the waiting room when the nurse leads me back to the exam room.


    ¡®Remember, there might be some mild cramping after the removal, but it¡¯s nothing to worry about.¡¯


    I nod, but Raff frowns. ¡®Should you give her something for the pain?¡¯


    ¡®No,¡¯ I say before my OB has a chance to answer. ¡®I¡¯ll be fine, Raff.¡¯


    ¡®That is what you said when you were inbor. You were not fine.¡¯


    ¡®Getting my birth control removed is nothing like giving birth, trust me.¡¯


    He frowns, but inclines his head in acquiescence.


    It only takes a few minutes for the doctor to remove the device. And she¡¯s right. I cramp. It¡¯s not so mild and because I¡¯m no wilting flower, I tell her so.


    Neither of us is prepared for Raff¡¯s reaction.


    ¡®Get her some pain meds,¡¯ he barks, his hand going to his gun.


    Oh, crap.


    I grab his arm and pull him toward me. ¡®I would rather have you hold me.¡¯


    He slips both arms around me like I wanted him to and cradles me gently to him, but whatever expression is on his face has my usually unperturbable doctor ordering her nurse to get six hundred milligrams of ibuprofen in a tone I¡¯ve never heard the OB use.


    I¡¯m d to see they are in gel caps. The pain meds will take effect faster.


    My cramps are already lessening by the time we reach the armored car Raff insisted on buying for my first trip to New York. It remains in storage in parking garage between trips, although my husband has told my brother to use it if necessary.


    Why did I ever think Raff does not love me? The man is obsessively protective.


    ¡®You will not go through that again,¡¯ Raff pronounces as we pull into traffic. ¡®After you have our next child, I will get a vasectomy.¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t you think that¡¯s a little over the top?¡¯


    He looks at me like I¡¯m the one being unreasonable. ¡®No. That I am allowing you to give birth a second time is enough. There will be no other pain for you.¡¯


    ¡®Life doesn¡¯t work like that.¡¯


    ¡®It will for you.¡¯


    Yanking his head toward me with both of my hands, I kiss my husband silly. He takes over, but refuses to raise the privacy partition so we can take things further. ¡®Your safety andfort are more important than an orgasm,¡¯ he informs me.


    ¡®I love you, cuore mio.¡¯


    ¡®There needs to be a stronger word than love. You own my soul, amate.¡¯


    ¡®Whatever that word is, I feel it too,¡¯ I tell him.


    And he kisses me again.


    But he still won¡¯t raise the privacy partition.


    Bossy, wonderful, protective man!

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 21

    CATALINA


    The morning of my sister¡¯s wedding, we are taken early to the church so we can get ready there. Carlotta expects it to take hours. I prepare myself for the tedium of having my hair and makeup done.


    When we arrive in the room set aside for us, Carlotta seems agitated. We are both nning on keeping our casual clothes on until just before the ceremony so we do not crease our gowns.


    I notice Carlotta¡¯s dress is not hanging up with mine. ¡®Where is your dress?¡¯


    I know it was in the SUV, our extra bodyguards rode in. I put it there myself.


    ¡®I had it put in the other room.¡¯


    ¡®What? Why?¡¯ I ask.


    She gives me a sad smile. ¡®I want to get ready alone, soru. I need to get used to not having you to rely on as my security nket.¡¯


    ¡®But¡ª¡¯


    ¡®You know that saying. Start as you mean to go on. This is the first day of this chapter of my life.¡¯


    ¡®I was looking forward to this morning.¡¯ It will be myst time alone with her. The rest of the day, we will be surrounded by others and tomorrow, I will leave New York.


    ¡®You are such a good sister.¡¯ Carlotta smiles at me. ¡®But I need this time. Please will you give it to me?¡¯


    ¡®Of course.¡¯ No matter how hard it is to give up these final hours with her, I cannot refuse my sister if this is what she needs to ready herself for a marriage we both know she doesn¡¯t want.


    If I could think of a way to protect her from it, I would. But there is no changing our father¡¯s mind once it is made up.


    ¡®I don¡¯t want to be pestered by anyone. Will you make sure that Aria and Zia Lora do not interrupt my time alone? It¡¯s going to be enough just having the makeup artist and hair stylist in there with me.¡¯


    ¡®If that is what you want, I¡¯ll make sure it happens.¡¯


    Carlotta smiles. ¡®I knew you would. Thank you, Catalina, you are the best.¡¯


    I don¡¯t remember thest time she called me Catalina instead of soru. It feels momentous, like our rtionship is changing. And it is. My sister is going to be a don¡¯s wife.


    And I am going to be gone.


    Two hourster, when Aria arrives already wearing a gorgeous light green designer gown that brings out the color of her eyes and her makeup done wlessly, I exin that Carlotta does not want to be disturbed before my father¡¯s arrival at the church.


    Severu¡¯s mother frowns, like this worries her, but says, ¡®I will see to the guests then. You look absolutely stunning. I would have liked to have seen you wearing the wedding dress.¡¯


    She leaves before I can reply to her astonishingment.


    She must have said a wedding dress, not the wedding dress and I simply misheard her. Yes, that must be it. I¡¯m still reeling from Aria¡¯s words when Zia Lora arrives.


    She is not happy when I tell her about Carlotta¡¯s request to be left alone. ¡®But I have not given her the talk yet,¡¯ my aunt says a little hysterically.


    I stare at her and then cannot help theugh that bubbles up out of my throat. ¡®Do not worry. Girls talk. Even in proper boarding schools like the one Carlotta and I attended.¡¯


    ¡®You are sure? I would not have her ignorant of what to expect on her wedding night.¡¯


    I¡¯m fairly certain Carlotta knows exactly what to expect and that is half the reason she¡¯s so nervous about getting married. I finally convince Zia Lora to join the wedding guests.


    And then I am alone for the first time that morning. The makeup artist and stylist are both gone. Pap¨¤ will be here any minute, but for this moment in time, I am utterly alone and I am grateful.


    Because in less than thirty minutes I have to watch my sister walk down the aisle toward the man I crave.


    ~ ~ ~


    Pap¨¤ arrives a few minuteste, but that is to be expected. I¡¯m sure he got sidetracked talking to people he deems important.


    People that are not me. I do not think he would even deign to speak to me, except that Carlotta is not here in the room where he expects her to be.


    ¡®Where is your sister?¡¯


    ¡®She wanted to get ready alone. She is in the room through that door.¡¯ I point to the door that connects to another room.


    Without replying, Pap¨¤ crosses to the door and opens it without knocking. I hear him call for my sister. She should be right there. Unless she had to use the restroom onest time before putting on her wedding dress.


    My father curses and then goes silent. A minuteter, hees storming back.


    His face purple with rage, he waves a piece of paper around. ¡®Where is she? What have you done with her?¡¯ he whisper shouts the demand.


    That in and of itself is concerning. When my father is angry, he does not whisper. He yells.


    ¡®I haven¡¯t done anything with her. Maybe she¡¯s in the bathroom,¡¯ I say.


    Pap¨¤ backhands me and I stagger backward, both from the blow and the shock of it.


    ¡®This does not say she went to the bathroom.¡¯ He shoves the paper toward me.


    I look down, but it is hard to focus on the words. My eyes sting with tears of pain making the writing blurry. When I can finally read it, my heart climbs into my throat.


    Dear Pap¨¤,


    I am too young to get married. I do not ever want to marry a man so much older than me either. I want to go to culinary school. I want to have a life, not be an ornament on some man¡¯s arm.


    I know you love me, so you will understand.


    I¡¯ll call or write when I can.


    Your Loving but Desperate Daughter,


    Madonna Carlotta


    What has she done? There is noing back from this. Not with Pap¨¤ and not with the don.


    ¡®Get in there and put the damn dress on, Catalina.¡¯


    I stare at my father in confusion. Why does he want me to put my sister¡¯s wedding dress on?


    ¡®We need to find her.¡¯ But even as I say the words, I realize what this morning¡¯s solitude was really about.


    If Carlotta left right after closing herself into the room, she had had more than two hours to disappear. In a city the size of New York, with both a train station and two airports essible, she could be anywhere. Or on her way to anywhere.


    I never saw her makeup artist or hair stylist arrive, but assumed she let them in through the door to the hall in the other room. Doom settles over me.


    Carlotta ran and she¡¯s noting back. Not to marry the don.


    Pain explodes in my cheek, and I go flying. This blow is much harder than thest one and Ind on my butt, my head knocking painfully against the wall behind me. My father stands over me, his face contorted with fury, his eyes burning with rage. His fist is raised, but it¡¯s not his fist I feel next. It¡¯s a kick to my thigh.


    ¡®Get up and get the dress on you useless piece of shit.¡¯


    The words aren¡¯t anything new. I¡¯ve heard them, and worse before. But I still don¡¯t understand. Why would I put on my sister¡¯s wedding gown?


    ¡®We have to tell Aria what has happened.¡¯ She will know what to do.


    Only I¡¯m afraid even Don De Luca¡¯s mother will be stumped for how to salvage the mess my sister has wrought. She ran away. I almostugh because I was so sure it was something she would never do despite nning to do it myself.


    ¡®I will not be made aughingstock among famiglia.¡¯ He kicks me again. This time catching my ribs.


    I gasp in pain but I do not cower. I push myself up against the wall and meet my father¡¯s enraged gaze, knowing I can¡¯t stop whatever ising next. When my father is in a rage, there is no reasoning with him. However, I do not have to give him the satisfaction of showing fear in the face of it.


    I have felt pain before. Either I will survive it, or I won¡¯t, but I will not cower.


    No more blowse. ¡®Get up. Get that dress on. It¡¯s the only way out of this mess you¡¯ve made. Even someone as stupid as you should understand that.¡¯


    I¡¯m not stupid. If I were, I would not havested as long as I have in my father¡¯s home. I know how to avoid him, how to protect myself. Usually. I realize now that he would punch or kick me again, but his n is for me to walk down the aisle, pretending to be my sister.


    I can¡¯t do that if I cannot walk at all.


    I climb gingerly to my feet, breathing shallowly, not sure if my ribs are just bruised. Or broken. Again.


    ¡®We can postpone the wedding.¡¯ Unfortunately, I¡¯m confident that between my father and the don¡¯s men, my sister will be found quickly.


    ¡®The dumb bitch ran away,¡¯ my father growls. ¡®There is no postponing. You will wear her dress. You will walk down the aisle. You will marry the don. Once he¡¯s spoken his vows, he cannot back out. He won¡¯t be happy though.¡¯


    ¡®Think about this,¡¯ I urge my father. ¡®The Don will be furious. He will punish you.¡¯


    ¡®The only one who is going to be punished is your sister and you for helping her.¡¯ The malevolence in his eyes is terrifying.


    ¡®I didn¡¯t help Carlotta run away,¡¯ I say, but I know it¡¯s no use.


    My father glowers at me. ¡®Of course, you did. She would never have thought of this on her own. Did you do it to get back at me?¡¯ He takes my arms in a bruising grip and shakes me. ¡®Did you?¡¯


    I don¡¯t reply. He has already made up his mind to believe I¡¯m the mastermind behind Carlotta¡¯s disappearance. Never mind the fact that I didn¡¯t run with her.


    ¡®I thought she was my daughter, but just like you, she belongs to your pathetic mother.¡¯ He says that like it¡¯s the worst insult imaginable, but I know it¡¯s not.


    I¡¯d much rather be my mother¡¯s daughter than my father¡¯s.


    ¡®What are you going to do to Carlotta?¡¯ I ask, fear for my sister making my skin mmy with sweat.


    ¡®You have to ask me that?¡¯ my father sneers. ¡®I¡¯ll deal with her like the traitorous bitch she is.¡¯


    Cold chills run down my spine. I know what pap¨¤ means when he says deal with. Carlotta ran away. That¡¯s considered a betrayal of him, her promise to the don and the Cosa Nostra. Our father won¡¯t just beat my sister. He¡¯ll kill her. And no one will stop him.


    I cannot believe she¡¯s done something so reckless.


    Yes, I was nning to run away, but I have a n. I have money. She has none of that. And I know my father would be just as happy to see me gone.


    Carlotta is engaged to the don though. She is Pap¨¤¡¯s stellina. He will never forgive her for this. And he will never stop looking for her so he can punish her for the blow she¡¯s dealt his pride.


    Carlotta thinks she can do anything because Pap¨¤ has always indulged her. Her note to our father proves that. She thinks he¡¯ll understand. Why?


    I know Pap¨¤ doesn¡¯t hit her like he does me, but even if she doesn¡¯t want to, she knows. She¡¯s seen me when I couldn¡¯t get out of bed toe down to dinner after one of his rages.


    My thoughts are racing. I have to save my sister, but I don¡¯t know how.


    Only one man can save Carlotta now. Her fianc¨¦, Don De Luca. I have to talk to him before my father gets a chance to poison his mind against Carlotta.


    I¡¯m not just worried about what Pap¨¤ will do to her either. Anything could happen to Carlotta right now. She¡¯s too trusting. Too vulnerable. She needs to be found and found quickly.


    Facts click, click, click in my brain and I see my one chance. The only way to talk to Don De Luca before my father can is to walk down the aisle of the church.


    ¡®S¨¬, Pap¨¤, s¨¬. I will put on the dress,¡¯ I say, trying to make my voice soothing and to hide my terror driven determination.


    He steps back and I go into the room that I thought my sister was in all morning long. Her wedding dress still hangs in its garment bag.


    Pap¨¤ has followed me into the room. ¡®Get it on.¡¯


    I just stare at him. He finally realizes that I¡¯m not going to change with him standing there.


    ¡®I¡¯m not leaving you alone for a fucking minute. Get that dress on now, or I¡¯ll dress you myself.¡¯ He turns around but remains between me and both doors out of he room.


    I limp as quickly as I can across the room to the wedding dress, while keeping a wary eye on my father. I should have gone up the aisle already in preparation for my sister¡¯s entrance.


    Reaching around to unzip the dress I am wearing, I feel a piercing pain, but I do not pause. If I¡¯m going to save Carlotta¡¯s life, I need to get that dress on. Now.


    I let the blue chiffon slip to the floor, making no effort to pick it up as I step away from the pile of fabric.


    I pull Carlotta¡¯s dress out of the garment bag and wonder how I am supposed to make this work. Where my sister is tall and slim, I am short and rounded. The gown was altered to her exact measurements. It does not matter, I¡¯m going to have to make it work.


    I step into the dress, the white silk cool against my skin. I¡¯m so grateful the zipper is on the side. I do not want to ask my father for help. I have to expel all the air from my lungs and suck my stomach in to get the zipper closed.


    When it¡¯s done, my breasts are encased tightly in the sweetheart bodice, creating more cleavage than I¡¯ve ever shown in my life. I can barely breathe. The pain in my ribs is a steadily throbbing ache, but it¡¯s not stabbing. So probably not broken.


    My mother¡¯s wedding tiara, something my sister insisted on me wearing, nestles perfectly in the updo Carlotta instructed the hair stylist to create with my long mousy brown hair. For a moment, I look in the mirror and see someone else staring back at me. An elegant woman with sensual curves.


    Then I meet my own eyes in that same mirror and see the barely banked terror.


    I know the don won¡¯t hurt my sister physically himself and I¡¯m hoping he will protect her from my father, but there is no guarantee he will. She betrayed him too by running. And even if I can convince him to show Carlotta mercy, no one is going to be there to help me when I return to our family home with my father after this fiasco of a wedding gets cancelled.

 Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 22

    ¡®Miss Jni? Are you and your sister ready?¡¯ The voice of the wedding nneres from the other room.


    I freeze, but my father replies to her calmly. ¡®We¡¯ll be out in a minute. Send the flower girl and ring bearer out.¡¯


    ¡®Of course, Mr. Jni.¡¯ The woman sounds so perky. She has no idea the drama unfolding in this room.


    There¡¯s a bruise blossoming on my cheek that the foundation the makeup artist put on me cannot hide. I pull the veil forward and it settles over my face and floats to rest lower than it would have on my taller sister, covering the deep cleavage of my decolletage.


    I turn away from the mirror to face my father. ¡®I¡¯m ready.¡¯


    He turns, eyeing me critically. Then nods. ¡®Your face is hard to see through the veil. You will keep it on throughout the ceremony.¡¯


    I say nothing and my father takes my silence as agreement.


    ¡®Well,e on then,¡¯ he says.


    I step forward and he scowls. ¡®You forgot the shoes.¡¯


    Toeing off my ballet ts, I consider my sister¡¯s shoes. Just as the dress is at least a size too small, they are a size too big. I quickly shove some crumpled tissue into the toe box of the modest pumps.


    Thank goodness Aria had suggested the shorter heel for my sister¡¯sfort. I don¡¯t wear heels at all and would probably fall right off the three-inch stilettos Carlotta usually has a fondness for


    I put the heels back on and gripping with my toes, I move forward, only to nearly trip over the hem of the dress. My father curses. I gather the dress up with shaking hands, careful to keep the hem brushing the floor, but not so long it will tuck under itself and trip me again.


    The wedding nner¡¯s eyes grow round when she sees us. ¡®Where is the other Miss Jni? She is supposed to go next.¡¯


    ¡®We have had a change in ns,¡¯ my father says dismissively. ¡®Start the wedding march.¡¯


    We stand in the vestibule waiting for the doors to be opened and Pap¨¤ puts his arm out for me to take.


    I shake my head. ¡®I can¡¯t. If I let the dress go, I will trip.¡¯


    He res at me but drops his arm. ¡®You stay right beside me.¡¯


    Like I¡¯m going to run. Even if I had somewhere to run to, I have to speak to the don before my father goes after my sister. And the only way to do that is to take this opportunity.


    I¡¯m risking both men¡¯s anger, but it¡¯s worth it if there is even the smallest chance of saving Carlotta¡¯s life.


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