CRISTIAN
Sweet Natalia.
She seemed so innocent at sixteen when she and Gigi became friends. But the few times I watched her on camera, wandering my home, curiosity flashed on her face. That interest was what most likely drew her to dating the Lombardi boy. And then what led her straight to me.
Natalia hardly speaks during dinner.
To me at least.
She has no fucking issue sharing a conversation with Oliver. Oliver is the owner, Stefano’s, grandson. Stefano pays me a generous fee to remain in business. His price will triple if Oliver entertains Natalia for one more goddamn minute.
Natalia orders another ten-thousand-dollar bottle of wine before I demand Oliver to go away.
And now, I’m dealing with a tipsy Natalia.
She asked what she got herself into, but what the fuck did I get myself into?
I’m at dinner with a woman half my age, and I can’t take my eyes off her.
As a man rarely impressed with women, my allure in her confuses me. I hate how my body reacts to her—how my cock jerked in my pants when I climbed in the back seat after she refused to leave the SUV. I didn’t scare her. In fact, it seemed my anger turned her on. My thoughts scramble, straying from exploiting her as my new pawn to fucking her.
Desire bled from her, and it took more restraint than I’d had in years not to spread her legs and enjoy her as my appetizer.
I need to fuck someone before I fuck my daughter’s best friend.
Before tonight, I hadn’t walked through the grandiose entrance of L’ultima Cena in over a decade. I don’t dine here regularly. When I do enjoy a meal here, it’s when I’m doing business or I want to put a bullet through someone’s head. But I made an exception to that rule with Natalia. Vinny needs to be angry and terrified that she’s with me.
People gaped as if they’d never seen me before. In hindsight, many of them haven’t. I don’t do what I do for attention. I do it for the money, the power, and to preserve my family’s legacy.
Natalia received just as much attention. Women envied her, and men drooled, the fuckers staring at her ass and tits. They wanted what I had, and that only turned me on more.
We hardly touch our food. I didn’t come for the food or the hospitality, so I don’t give a shit. An hour passes, enough time for Vinny to be told of our whereabouts, so I stand and tell her it’s time to leave.
She half shrugs, and I’m surprised with how stealthily she rises to her feet, given how much alcohol my little nuisance has consumed. I don’t take her hand—because fuck that—but I clasp mine around her elbow, tighter than I should. She doesn’t pull away.
We remain the center of attention as I lead her out. The hostess pest attempts to speak to me, something about her number, and I act like she doesn’t exist.
Francis is already out of the Escalade, and he opens the door. I release her to him, as if she were someone’s crying child I needed to hand back, and get into the car. Unlike the ride here, Natalia doesn’t grant me silence.
“Oh my God,” she gasps. “I remember you now.” Her attention is on Francis. “You walked in on me making out with a guy after picking Gigi and me up from a party.”
I jerk in my seat, seeing red. “Party? What fucking party did Gigi go to?”
Leave it to the Mafia roots, but our children don’t indulge in fun lifestyles. We’re strict. Most of our children are homeschooled, and they don’t have outside friends. Gigi is the exception. I carried the guilt of her growing up without a mother. In this world, most of us lose our fathers first, not our mothers. Mothers are the glue to Mafia families.
Natalia waves away my questioning glare. She’s pushing me to the edge of my restraint. I ball up my hands to stop myself from grabbing her by her hair, pulling her back, and telling her what happens to women who disrespect me. I’d then give her a choice—get the fuck out of the car or suck my cock.
It’s a short fifteen-minute drive to my home. I live close enough to the city that it’s easily accessible but far enough to be given privacy. I wasn’t lying when I told Natalia it was like Fort Knox. The heavy gates swing open, and we arrive at my estate.
The perimeter wall, gate, and security station prevent trouble from breaching my home. While I ensured our compound was secure, Benita, my late wife, worked on the interior.
Francis drops us off at the double doors, and I step out of the Escalade. Natalia follows me, and I bite back all my anger as we walk through the expansive entryway. Francis turns to park in the six-car garage.
“Your list,” I say harshly, removing my suit jacket and draping it over a chair. “I want it now.”
I want it now so that I can get rid of you.
Rocky walks out of the dining room, making himself known, holding a glass filled with dark liquor.
The two of them trail behind me into my office.
“Boss,” Rocky says, raising a brow. “You want me to sit in?”
“No,” I reply, circling my desk.
“But she could—”
“I think I can fight her off,” I reply with a scoff, rolling up the sleeves of my white button-down.
Rocky likes to sit in and listen to my meetings. Sometimes I allow it. Sometimes I don’t. He’s loyal, but I trust no one to hear every word that is said in here. Rocky strives to please me, hoping to become my second-in-command, but everyone knows that goes to Benny.
He can hate all he wants, but this reign stays in the bloodline. It started with my grandfather, then my father, and now me. Benny will take over when I die.
Rocky reluctantly nods, exits the room, and shuts the door behind him.
No business is done with an open door.
Natalia snorts out a laugh and drops into an Italian leather chair that costs more than her life. Many men have lost their lives there. Always choose dark leather furniture if you plan to kill people in your office.
I target all my attention on her and scowl. “Something you find funny, sweetheart?”
“The way these men bow down to you”—she rolls her eyes—“it’s ridiculous.”
She’s definitely drunk.
I grind my teeth before laughing. It’s filled with edge and impatience. “How about I also make you bow down to me?”
Her face flushes. “What?”
“I’d love for you to drop to your knees and bow down to me.”
Still in my chair, I wheel it out from under the desk. Her whiskey-brown eyes refuse to meet mine as she averts her attention to her heels when I stand. She draws in a deep breath as I stalk toward her. I inhale the sweet smell of her—the perfume I had Helena pick up during her shopping trip—and the expensive wine we drank still lingers on her lips. Smacking my hands down on the arms of the chair, I crouch into her space, closing her in.
She shudders. I’m unsure if it’s desire or fear that caused it. She winces when I reach forward and harshly rub at her jawline.
I brush my lips against her cheek before whispering, “Keep running that smart mouth, and that’s exactly what you’ll be doing.”
She gasps when I delve my hand into her thick hair and sharply jerk her head forward.
“You’re pushing the wrong man, Natalia,” I sneer. “You think Vinny is scary? You do not know the carnage I’m capable of.” I tighten my hold when she attempts to tug out of my grip, and I unleash a callous laugh before releasing her.