by T L Swan
“Nothing,” Maso replies coldly. “He’s a violent drunk. I’ll stay and care for him. You go upstairs to bed. You can’t be alone with him right now.”
I frown. “He would never hurt me.”
Maso rolls his eyes.
“I will care for him,” I tell him.
“I said go to bed!” Maso snaps angrily. “I know what I’m talking about. I’ve been around a lot longer than you.”
I put my hands on my hips and glare at him. Who the fuck does this guy think he is?
“And yet, you still don’t know him at all. He would never hurt me. I said, I’ll take care of him.”
“Maso!” Lorenzo snaps.
“Non puo essere solo con lei,” Maso growls back.
“Stop speaking Italian around me!” I snap. “I want to know what you’re saying.”
Maso’s eyes come to me, evidently angered that I questioned him. “I said, you are not safe, and I’m not leaving you alone with him.”
“He would never hurt me,” I repeat. This guy is seriously pissing me off. Actually, they all are. I walk to the front door and open it in a rush. “He’s safe, thank you for seeing him home. Now, I must ask you all to leave.”
They stare at me, shocked.
“Now!” I snap as I hold my hand up toward the door. “Right now, leave.”
The men exchange looks, confused. After a beat, a smile crosses Lorenzo’s face, and he turns to the men who have been rendered speechless. He claps his hands. “You heard the lady. Everybody out.”
The men begin to talk in Italian again but slowly and surely, one by one, they leave. Lorenzo is the last one out of the door, and he smiles and kisses my cheek.
“Put the shutters down, Olivia,” he reminds me softly.
“I know.”
“I’m staying in the other house on the property tonight. If you need me, I’m two minutes away.”
I squeeze his hand, grateful for his support. “Thank you.”
I close the door behind them, flick the lock, and turn toward my drunken man.
He’s now snoring and dead asleep, flat on his back.
I stare at him for a moment. What happened to make him so angry? I’ve never seen him like this, and I know by the way they were all acting that they haven’t seen him like this, either. He’s going to be cold down here with that thin blanket.
I walk upstairs and grab a quilt from one of the spare beds, and then I make my way back down to cover him up. I gently kiss his forehead as I tuck him in and rearrange the cushion under his head.
“Sleep, baby,” I whisper, holding my cheek to his.
Relief fills me that he’s home safe. I’ll have a cup of tea and go to bed. It’s been quite a day.
Ten minutes later, I’m standing at the kitchen sink and I hear a bang behind me. I turn in a rush. Rico is standing at the door watching me, his face murderous. It’s obvious he has no control over himself. Uneasiness fills me at once.
“Rico, what’s wrong?”
He glares at me but stays silent.
“Are you feeling all right?” I ask as Maso’s words float through my mind.
He’s a violent drunk.
He steps forward, and I take a step back.
“What’s wrong… Olivia?” he sneers. I stare at him as my heart begins to beat faster. “Do I scare you?”
“No.”
“I should.”
“Why would you scare me?”
He steps forward.
I take a step back.
“Rici,” I whisper softly. “It’s me, baby. Olivia.”
“I know who you are.” He takes another slow step toward me. “But, do you know who I am?” he whispers.
Our eyes are locked. “Who are you?” I ask.
He holds his hands out wide. “Let me introduce myself… bella.” His voice is a hushed tone, filled with darkness and despair.
I watch him. Fear is coursing through my veins. He doesn’t even resemble the man I know.
“My name is Enrico Giuliano Ferrara.” He pauses and licks his lips. “The head of the Ferraro underworld.” His eyes are dark. “I run all crime in Italy.” He holds his finger up. “The Don,” he sneers as he staggers to the side. “And the son of a fucking liar.”
21
Olivia
I stare at him, lost for words.
He raises his chin in defiance.
What?
I mean, I had my suspicions, but to have him throw it in my face as if he’s looking for a fight is not something I ever imagined.
“Now, pack your things and leave,” he growls, he turns away from me.
I stare at his back for a while, my mind in freefall. What the hell is going on here? “Why?”
He turns back, curls his lip in disgust, and shakes his head. “I’m no good.”
I stay silent, unsure where he’s going with this.
“This.” He hits his chest with both hands. “This! My story doesn’t end well. Leave while you can.” He sidesteps as he tries to keep upright. “I don’t want this life for you, Olivia.”
My heart breaks.
What’s happened that has upset him so much?
I step forward and take his drunken face in both hands. “I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”
He blinks slowly, trying to focus on me.
“I love you,” I whisper, and I kiss him softly.
“Don’t,” he sighs. “Don’t love me, bella. You can’t love me.”
“Why not?’
“It’s only a matter of time.”
“Until what?”
“My days are numbered.” His haunted eyes hold mine. “They’ll kill me, like they killed my family.”
I stare at the beautiful man in front of me, so heartbroken and forlorn. “Then we go down together,” I whisper up at him.
I kiss him, and his face screws up in pain as he wraps his arms around me. We stand in each other’s arms for a long time. His head is in the crook of my neck, and I hold him tight. He desperately needs comfort. I can feel the pain oozing out of him. I have no idea what transpired today, but I know it’s upset him greatly.
After a while, he’s heavy in my arms, and I know I have to get him upstairs.
“Let’s go to bed.” I take his hand to lead him through the house, and slowly up the stairs. He’s quiet and placid as he lets me lead him—nothing like the raging bull who was downstairs only half an hour ago, fighting everyone.
I pull the covers back and take his clothes off. “Get into bed.”
He stands still, staring at me.
“Get into bed, baby. I’ll just have a quick shower and be back,” I whisper with another kiss. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”
He nods, mollified for the moment, and he flops down. I cover him over, and his heavy eyelids close.
I stand at the foot of the bed as I watch him.
Holy hell… what just happened?
Enrico
The banging of my head wakes me with a start. I frown as I try to get my bearings.
Where am I?
I reach out and feel Olivia’s bare behind beside me as she sleeps. I immediately relax. I’m home.
Bang, bang, bang goes my head.
I slowly sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed as nausea fills me. I’m hot, clammy, and the taste of cigars and liquor is pungent in my mouth.
Hell, I need a shower.
I get up and stagger. What the…? Am I still drunk?
I make my way to the bathroom and get under the hot water. I lean against the tiles and try to get my bearings.
How did I get home last night?
I can’t remember anything.
I concentrate as I go back over yesterday.
There was lunch with Sophia, and then I went back to the club and poured myself a drink… more drinks.
I frown as I get a vision of myself punching someone. Who did I hit?
Fuck.
I put my arm on the tiles and lean my forehea
d against it as the water runs over me. I still feel as bad as yesterday—perhaps worse—because now I have the hangover of all hangovers.
He had another family and everyone knew. I feel so stupid, so betrayed. Humiliated.
I’ve never been so disappointed in my entire life. I always hero worshiped my father, and to find out he’s just another bastard who used my mother is soul destroying.
I didn’t know him at all.
The men—his men. They knew. They kept his dirty secret for him. For two years, I’ve worked beside these men, day in, day out, and not a word has ever been mentioned about her…
About his other son.
The one I don’t know.
With a heavy heart, I wash my hair, brush my teeth, and desperately wish that yesterday hadn’t happened. The memories of my father are forever tainted. Was he watching the clock every time he was with me? Was he counting down the hours until he could leave to go and see them?
I knew my grandfather had multiple mistresses; everyone knew. He was a typical Italian bastard who wouldn’t come home for days. I expected nothing more from him. It was just how it was. He and my grandmother were hardly on speaking terms. She lived a life of luxury and was happy enough with that.
But my father… he adored my mother. He doted on her… loved her. To know that he spent thirty years loving another woman on the side hurts. I feel betrayed.
So, so betrayed.
Did our family mean nothing to him? It mustn’t have. If he loved us, he wouldn’t have strayed.
I think back to all our times at Lake Como, where he brought me and my brothers to our house here, while my mother always stayed at home.
He came here to see her.
Did he sneak her in once we were all asleep?
My stomach rolls as I get a visual of him having sex with someone else in his bedroom upstairs, while my mother waited for him at home.
Fury begins to pump through my bloodstream like never before. He never told me because he knew I would hate him for it.
Everyone knew. Even Sophia. She went to the funeral. He had a second funeral. What the fuck?
Everyone knew to keep it from me. I feel so stupid, and I’ve never been so humiliated.
I turn the shower off in disgust. I dry myself and walk back into the room to see my blonde angel still fast asleep. She’s lying on her side, and I crawl in behind her and pull her into my arms. I kiss her temple and she slowly wakes. She turns her head and kisses me.
“Morning,” I whisper.
“Mmm,” she moans. “You’re alive.”
I smirk.
“Were you trying to kill yourself yesterday?”
I kiss her neck as I feel my arousal begin to creep in.
“I thought you were going to die of alcohol poisoning,” she says.
“Sorry.” I hate that she saw me like that. “I don’t know what happened.”
She rolls toward me and leans up on her elbow. She’s all mussed up and looks so beautiful.
“Can we finish our conversation now?” she asks.
I frown. “What conversation?”
“You told me everything, Rico.”
I stare at her as panic begins to scream through my system. “About what?”
“I know about the crimes you’re involved in. I know about the Ferrara family business.”
My face falls. I’m rendered speechless.
I wouldn’t have told her. No way I would have told her.
“I know that you think you’re going to die soon.”
I open my mouth to say something, but there are no words. I roll onto my back as I put my forearm over my face. Fuck. I can’t even look her in the eye.
She’s leaving.
We lie in silence for a while.
“I’m sorry about my behavior last night. I’m appalled that you saw me like that. I’ll have Lorenzo pick your things up and return them to Milan for you,” I say as I climb out of bed in a rush.
She sits up. “Can we talk about this?”
“No.”
“I want to know what I’m dealing with here.”
“It’s more than you can handle, Olivia.” I pull my boxers up in a rush. “Trust me.” I storm from the room and downstairs as my heart goes into panic mode.
She’s leaving.
I hit the shutters, and the sound of them rising echoes around me. Light begins to slowly flood the house. I flick on my coffee machine and close my eyes as I mentally prepare myself for her exit. My heart’s racing. I’m sucking in deep breathes to try and calm myself down.
Warm arms come around me from behind. “Rici,” she whispers, and she kisses my back.
I close my eyes. The thought of her knowing what I am is too much.
Disappointing her is my worst nightmare.
“Just go,” I sigh. “It will be less painful if we just get this over and done with.”
“Just talk to me.”
“And tell you what?” I cry.
“I’m not judging you,” she says calmly.
“Aren’t you, Olivia?” I spit and turn to her. “’Because it sure fucking feels like it.”
“You grew up in this life…” she asks.
“Yes… and no.”
Her eyes hold mine. “What does that mean?”
I exhale heavily. “I found out about everything when my father died.”
She frowns. “Up until then you thought Ferrara was a reputable family business?”
“It is a reputable business,” I snap. “There are just some unsavory aspects of it, I’m going to clean it up… but it takes fucking time.”
“Like what?”
I shake my head in disgust. “I’m not discussing this, Olivia. Leave it.”
“Like what, Enrico. Tell me what unsavory means.”
“Brothels, strip clubs, illegal gambling.” I shrug. “Shit like that.”
“Drugs?”
“No. That was the first thing I stopped.”
Our eyes are locked.
“Murder?” she whispers. “Do you kill people?”
I roll my eyes. “This isn’t the fucking Godfather, Olivia. In the past, yes, but not anymore. We run reputable businesses in seedy places. That’s it.”
“I’m just so confused by this all.”
I throw my hands up in the air. “That makes two of us.”
She steps forward. “Why do you think you’re going to die?”
“I don’t!” I snap. “I was fucking blind drunk. Why would you listen to anything I said?”
“Because for the first time since we’ve been together, last night, you were actually making sense.” She puts her hand on my chest. “I knew something was off. Too many things don’t add up, and I knew with the amount of security you have…” Her voice trails off.
I clench my jaw as I watch her. She deserves the truth, I know she’s going to leave me anyway. I may as well tell her.
“For centuries, the Ferrara family have run Italy. They’ve done some pretty fucking appalling things. I didn’t know anything about it. I still know nothing. My father’s staff are limping me through it all until I learn enough to completely take over.”
She frowns. “Why were you so upset yesterday? What happened to make you like that?”
I stare at the floor for a moment, disgusted by what’s come to light. “I found out my father had a comare for thirty years. It turns out everything he told me was a lie and… I didn’t know him at all.”
“Comare?” She frowns.
“Another woman. Another family. They had a son.”
Her face falls.
“Even my mother knew.”
She stares at me, horrified.
“My brothers and I were the only ones who didn’t. I’m humiliated.”
Her face falls as she stares at me. “Oh, baby.” She wraps her arms around me, and I close my eyes at the comfort, even if it will be short lived. I need to get on with it. I step back from her.
“I haven’t been gifted a normal
life, Olivia. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. Your discretion would be greatly appreciated.”
“I’m not leaving you, Rico.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, unable to speak.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“You shouldn’t.”
“It’s too late.”
Emotion overwhelms me, and I blink as my vision blurs from the realization of her loyalty. “I don’t even know who I am anymore,” I whisper.
“You’re the man I love.” She kisses me softly. “Just be him.”
My arms curl around her. “I wanted to tell you I loved you first,” I say into her hair.
“You did.”
“When?”
“Last night, in front of about twenty people.”
I close my eyes in disgust. “Oh.”
She smiles softly.
“Was I appalling?”
“Completely. But understandably so.” Our lips meet again, but this time I hold her tight, her tongue dancing with mine as an emotional need warms my blood. “I love you,” I whisper. Our kiss turns desperate, and I push her back against the kitchen counter. The need in me is escalating by the second. I need to taste her, and my attention drops to her neck as I suck and kiss on her perfect, creamy skin. She smells so good. She always smells so fucking good.
“Bed,” she breathes. “Back to bed.”
Before I know it, I’m dragging Olivia up the stairs, desperate to be closer to her.
Inside of her.
The need to share myself with this beautiful woman takes over, and I tear her robe off, throw it to the side, and lay her down on her back. I open her legs, and my eyes roam down over her body. Her full lush breasts. Her flat stomach.
I reach down and spread her sex open.
Perfect pink lips glistening with arousal.
I slowly slide two fingers deep into her sex, and she clenches around me. Her big blue eyes are alive with want.
My cock starts to thump, weeping in appreciation.
Olivia Reynold’s is every man’s wet dream.
Mine.
She knows everything… and she stayed.
I pump her with my fingers, and the bed begins to hit the wall with force.
She loves it when I do this—when I fuck her hard with my hands before I give her my cock.
She’s addicted to the pain.