Becoming his Mistress: A Zanetti Famiglia Novel

by Faiman, Hayley

  “Probably not.”

  “Because of Lenora?”

  I nod. “Because of Lenora and the simple fact that Wynter is never the type of woman that I wanted to be with. She’s selfish, self-serving, not nurturing. She’s untrustworthy, and just a plain bitch.”

  Gavino watches me for a moment, then releases his hold on my shoulder and jerks his chin. There’s something working behind his eyes, but true to who he is, he doesn’t show it and doesn’t verbalize it. I leave his office and head down to my car.

  I promised Wynter dinner tonight, as a man of my word, I’ll take the bitch to dinner. This time I’m having my parents meet us at the restaurant, because taking her over to their house the other day was a great buffer.

  My mother knows I can’t stand her, hell she doesn’t like her much either, but she’ll engage her in wedding talk so that I can just relax a bit. I feel anxious every time I’m alone with her. As the days go on, I know that I’ll be living with her soon and that scares the fucking shit out of me.

  Pulling up to her building, I debate on just honking until she comes down, but I decide against it. Climbing out of the car, I jog toward her door and touch the buzzer that I know is linked to her apartment.

  “You’re late,” she announces.

  “Work.”

  I offer no other explanation, she’s lucky that she’s getting that at all. With a heavy sigh, she announces that she’ll be down in a minute. I walk back toward my car, leaning against the passenger side as I wait for her.

  Closing my eyes, I take in a long breath before releasing it. “Arlo,” she snaps. My eyes immediately open and I look down into hers.

  Her gaze is narrowed on mine, her face pinched tightly, but her makeup is flawless and her dress indecently tight, short and low-cut. Reaching a hand forward, I use my fingers to touch between her tits. Her breath hitches before she jerks her body away from mine.

  “You look like a whore. When you share my name, you’ll not wear shit like this,” I bark.

  She frowns, looking down at her outfit, then lifts her gaze back up to mine. “It’s in style. I’ll always be fashionable, Arlo. You don’t have to like it,” she sneers.

  Shaking my head once, I reach out and wrap my fingers around her bicep and pull her body roughly against my own. My stomach twists at being so fucking close to her. It doesn’t feel right, in fact, it feels so fucking wrong that it makes me want to puke right here.

  “I do have to like it, Wynter. That’s the fucking thing. You are a reflection of me, as I’ve told you time and time again. Once you share my name, you play by my rules, nobody else’s, not anymore.”

  “And if I decide I won’t?” she asks, arching a brow.

  “Then your consequences will be dire.”

  It’s my only warning. My one and only. She has a week to get her shit together. To learn how to be a proper Mafia wife. Her rights don’t exist the second she takes my name. Misogynist, yeah? The way of the world? Yeah. It keeps her alive, and it keeps my pride intact, which is important, because if I can’t control my wife how in the fuck can I be a good Underboss?

  “Fuck you,” she breathes.

  I shake my head. “Not until we’re married. I’m not sticking my dick inside of you until I’m forced by law.”

  “God, why did I ever agree to this?” she sighs, looking up at the sky, as if she’s really asking God himself.

  I shake her slightly, looking into her dark eyes, wishing they were blue, and that she was Lenora instead of herself. I let out a sigh.

  “You wanted unlimited money and your father was about to cut you off for being a drain?” I guess, since I don’t know the exact reason and I don’t care. “It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement and we’re stuck with one another, so we need to make the best of it.”

  Her eyes narrow and she jerks out of my grasp. “I can’t believe I’m stuck with an asshole like you forever.”

  “Why, because I don’t let you run all over me and do whatever the fuck you want?” I ask with a chuckle.

  She nods. “Well, yeah.”

  “Try it, Wynter, see how well it works out for you. Now, we’re even later for dinner with my parents.”

  I’m halfheartedly wishing that she will try to do whatever the fuck she wants. All I have to do is catch her in public, or at least someone from the famiglia needs to catch her fucking someone else and I’ll be able to file for an annulment.

  It would be so fucking sweet if it was that easy.

  The drive to dinner is silent. We arrive at the Italian restaurant that the famiglia owns and I let out a sigh knowing that at least the food and wine will be good here, even if the company lacks.

  Opening the door for her, I watch as she attempts to amble out of the car without showing the world her vagina, she fails. I see it all and unabashedly look directly at it. I smirk, at least it’s waxed. There’s something she has going for her.

  “Are you done?” she asks as she stands to her feet.

  Lifting my gaze to hers, I slam the car door closed behind her. “I’m going to see every square inch in a week, Wynter. And add that to the list of shit you need to do in the future.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Wear goddamn panties. The world doesn’t need to see the cunt I own.”

  “You’re a dick,” she seethes.

  Shaking my head, I slip my hand around her, pressing my fingers against the small of her back and gently propel her forward.

  “You’re a bitch. It’s actually quite fitting that we’ll be miserable together.”

  “Fuck off,” she hisses.

  I don’t say anything else as we walk into the restaurant. I see my parents looking depressed as all hell sitting in the corner and I know it’s because of me, because of Wynter. I shake off the feeling and plaster a smile on my face, it’s fake as fuck, but it’s all I can muster.

  My parents stand as soon as we approach. My mother makes her way over to me and envelops me in a hug, her lips touching the side of my cheek before she makes her way over to Wynter. I watch as she leads her over to the table and my dad shakes my hand.

  “Go to the bar?” he asks, his eyes shifting to my mother and Wynter.

  “Sure.” Turning my gaze to Wynter, I ask if she’d like wine.

  “Chardonnay please,” she barks.

  With a heavy sigh, my father and I head toward the bar. He orders a couple of whiskeys, a pinot noir for my mother and a chardonnay for Wynter. What he doesn’t do is turn to leave as soon as the drinks arrive, instead his hand slaps the center of my shoulder blades.

  “I don’t agree with this,” he announces.

  “I know.”

  He shakes his head. “We were never meant to be Boss. It’s just not in our blood, but do you know what is?”

  I wait, knowing that he’s going to tell me. I don’t have to ask at all. “Love, figlio. Your mother and I married for love and we wanted you to as well. You’re the only child God blessed us with and we want you to be happy.”

  “Wynter doesn’t make me happy?” I guess.

  “We know she doesn’t. Hell, the world knows she doesn’t. Gavino has mentioned helping you, but you’re refusing.”

  “Gavino set this up to begin with.”

  “Maybe his heart has softened now that he knows the meaning of true love with our Luci.”

  “Maybe.”

  I don’t offer my dad anything else and we stay quiet for a few moments, taking healthy drinks of our whiskeys and looking far off at nothingness. Then he clears his throat, I tilt my head to the side, taking in his profile.

  He’s looking older these days, weathered, and it doesn’t escape my attention that he will not live forever. He needs grandchildren, he needs harmony.

  What he doesn’t need is for me to start some kind of war with Senator McClain because I don’t want to marry his cunt of a daughter, even when I’ve already given my word. I’ll do this for him as much as I’m doing it for the famiglia.

  “It�
�s done, Papa. All will be well with the union. You’ll see.”

  He stares at me for a beat, then shakes his head. He doesn’t believe me and he damn well shouldn’t. In two hours, I’ll be wrapped in another woman. One that I can’t keep publicly, only as a dirty secret and that fucking kills me more than tying myself to Wynter ever could.

  Chapter Nine

  ELENORA

  I smooth my skirt down, second-guessing my clothing choice for the millionth time in the past five minutes. The dress is Chloe’s. It’s white and skin-tight, too tight. Thankfully, it has a high neckline to make up for the fact that it’s completely backless. I had to use some of those sticky things on my boobs to keep the world from seeing my nipples. I’m so far out of my comfort zone it’s ridiculous.

  The dress hits right above my knees and has a slit up the back that stops right at mid-thigh. On my feet, I decided to be bold and wear a pair of red, mile-high strappy heels. My hair is down and styled with loose curls. My makeup is simple, but my lips are a bold red.

  Chloe is wearing an emerald green dress that’s much shorter than mine, so short that it just cups her ass. It’s a strapless bandage dress that hugs her curves perfectly. Her hair is worn full and natural in a blown-out afro. She’s absolutely gorgeous, her makeup dark and sultry, her lips a deep berry color.

  God, how I wish I was as confident as she is. While I’m tugging and rearranging myself, looking around to see how many people are staring at me, she’s got her head held high and walking straight for the door of the casino.

  “Do you think this place is legal? I don’t see any signs or anything,” I mumble as we walk straight up to the large man who is guarding the door.

  “Probably not.” She shrugs, then I see the gleam in her eye, the way her gaze dances.

  She likes the fact that it could be dangerous, that we could be doing something wrong. Whereas for me? I am simply sick over it. I’m the good girl, always. I’ve never done anything that even had a hint of being illegal or immoral, standing in front of this building, I know that it isn’t on the up and up.

  “State your business,” the man at the door says when we approach.

  I watch as his gaze drags from my feet to my head, then he does the same to Chloe. His eyes are assessing, but also sexual and I take a step back, really unsure if we’re in the right place. Maybe I got the address wrong.

  Taking my phone out of my clutch, I find the text where Carlo sent me the address. I ask the man at the door, the one who is still staring at us as if we’re a snack and he hasn’t eaten for a week. I shiver, hoping we’re in the right place and that Carlo is going to appear any second.

  “Is this…”

  I look up and before I can read the address, a beautiful woman with black hair, red-painted lips, and striking dark eyes walks out through the guarded door. She’s wearing a beautiful black pantsuit that fits her body perfectly, like Carlo’s suits, it looks tailored just for her.

  “Ugo, leave the women alone, they’re Arlo’s guests,” she announces. His eyes widen and I watch as he takes a step back. “I’m Mia,” she offers, lifting her lips in a small smile.

  “I’m Lenora and this is Chloe,” I introduce.

  “Let me get you girls situated in your room, Arlo isn’t here yet, but I’m sure he’ll be arriving any moment,” she explains.

  She walks toward the door and wraps her fingers around the handle. Ugo doesn’t move, his eyes never leave me or Chloe though, instead of the sexual vibe I was getting from him earlier, it’s more of a curious gaze now.

  Mia quietly takes us through a gorgeous reception area and I’m in awe as I look around at all of the rich décor. It’s so opulent that I can do nothing but take everything in and just stare.

  “This is the casino floor,” Mia announces, interrupting my slack-jawed staring.

  It’s busy, there are people everywhere. What I notice first is the abundance of beautiful women. They’re all dressed similarly to me and Chloe. Their dresses are all skin-tight and show off every single dip and curve of their beautiful bodies. I’ve never seen so many gorgeous women in one room before.

  I can hear the men, who are all dressed in suits, chatter and cheer, or groan, as they sit at the card tables and gamble. It looks like every Las Vegas casino that I’ve ever seen on television before. I didn’t know anything like this existed in the city. I always figured it was an Atlantic City and Vegas thing, but right here in Brooklyn?

  “Arlo has set up a private room for the evening,” Mia continues as she takes us past all of the beautiful people and down a hallway.

  She pauses in front of a room and turns the door handle. She pushes it open and then stands to the side to let us pass by her.

  “There is a bar over there for you, order whatever you like. If you need some food sent in, just let the bartender know. The rest of the guests should be arriving momentarily.” She smiles and then before we can respond, she’s gone, the door closing behind her.

  “This is kind of weird, but really fucking awesome,” Chloe whispers next to me.

  My eyes can’t take in the space fast enough. There is a full bar set up in the corner with a bartender standing behind the counter. There is a card table on the other wall, a dealer sitting quietly behind with chips at his left. There are also four chairs set around him, empty and waiting.

  Then when I turn around, I’m surprised to see a sofa against the other wall, along with a roulette table and another dealer standing guard. Neither of the dealers acknowledge our existence and the bartender only stands in his place, waiting.

  “It is, both,” I admit.

  “Your boyfriend must be someone really fucking special,” she says.

  Looking over to her, I smirk. Her lips are turned up into a huge smile and her eyes are practically glittering with excitement. Meanwhile, I still feel kind of sick at the entire situation. Something isn’t right, really not right, and it’s making me feel a bit uncomfortable.

  “Let’s get a drink, you’re wound really fucking tight,” she suggests, wrapping her arm around mine and gently guiding me toward the bar.

  “What can I get you ladies?” the bartender asks.

  “Something strong, but fruity and girlie for my friend here,” Chloe says, giving me a wink like she’s being covert. “I would like a vodka on the rocks, Titos if you have it, Ketel One, if you don’t.”

  The bartender dips his chin, then turns and I watch him as he mixes up some kind of concoction. I bite the corner of my lip, my eyes focused on the perfectly gleaming bar top, wondering if I’ve made a mistake.

  Arlo acts as though he’s just in some kind of business with his friend, but this casino, it’s really telling and I’m getting nothing but bad feelings in the pit of my stomach about the whole thing. I think he’s not who he’s saying that he is.

  I mean what man buys an apartment just so that it’s closer to a woman he’s only been seeing for a few weeks? It’s flattering, sure, but practical, not at all.

  The drinks are set in front of us, and I turn my head to Chloe, ready to tell her that I want to leave when the door opens. Spinning around, my breath is stolen from me when Arlo walks through the door.

  He’s tall, his hair is mussed up, and he’s wearing one of his beautiful suits. My knees go weak at the sight of him. I don’t see anyone else, not the three people who are behind him, nobody. Those blue eyes meet mine, his lips twitch into a smirk and I decide that whatever trouble he is, I want it, because I just want him.

  “Lenora,” he murmurs as his long legs move toward me.

  My breath hitches as his hand slides around my waist and he tugs me against his chest. My drink shifts and the contents almost spill. Turning slightly, I set it down on the bar and place both of my palms against his pecs.

  One of his hands slides up my back, I watch as his blue eyes darken when he discovers my entire back is bare. His chin dips and his lips touch mine. “Fuck,” he breathes. “How did I miss you so goddamn much today, hmm?”
<
br />   My eyes flutter closed, I know that the room is full of people, but I don’t care. I only have eyes for him. When he’s in front of me, the rest of the world completely melts away. I don’t know why or how. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never experienced this before, either.

  I love it, I love the way my world becomes only him.

  “I missed you, too,” I breathe.

  Somewhere in the distance, I hear a throat clear and my face immediately feels hot as I take a step back. Arlo doesn’t allow me to move too far away from him, though. Instead, he slides his hand from my back to around my waist and tucks me against his side.

  Lifting my gaze, I recognize the woman that I saw with him the first time, Luciana. She’s standing next to an extremely handsome man dressed in an expensive suit, his green eyes are focused on me and he’s not smiling.

  I immediately recognize him from my store and then the apartment. A chill runs through my body at the sight of him. He’s commanding and intimidating, to say the least.

  ARLO

  Gavino is staring at Lenora in a way that I don’t quite appreciate. He’s trying to figure her out, trying to read her, and the way he focuses on her has my back straightening. I take a step toward them, Lenora held tightly to my side.

  “You already know my cousin Luciana, this is her husband, Gavino, my boss,” I introduce. “This is Lenora.”

  Luciana doesn’t hesitate. She takes a step forward and I’m forced to release Lenora as she embraces her.

  “This is Chloe, Lenora’s roommate,” I continue, referring to the woman standing next to us, staring in awe at the people in the room.

  Chloe is taking everything in, soaking it up, and I wonder what she thinks. She’s a hard woman to read. A man steps forward and I smirk at this person that Mia thought would be a good match for Lenora’s roommate.

  “I’m Luca,” he introduces, holding his hand out.