Waiting for my Queen: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Cates, Georgia

  “Have you ever gone to a set and watched?”

  “A few times but it was a long time ago.”

  “Have you ever been with one of the girls you film?”

  “Yeah, when I was much younger.”

  She disapproves. I see it in the crinkle of her upper lip.

  “Those girls you film are someone’s daughters. How would you feel if some sleazeball did that to your daughter?”

  “I would kill any man who tries to make my daughter a porn star.”

  “You always talk about sons. It’s odd to hear you say anything about a daughter.”

  “I want daughters too.”

  “Will you arrange marriages for them?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I’m curious. At what age would you give our daughter to a husband?”

  I think about that for a moment and recall what Alessandro told me. One day when you have a daughter of your own, you’ll understand why I had to do this for Emilia.

  “I think thirty-five seems reasonable.”

  Emilia chuckles. “Thirty-five? Not eighteen?”

  “I’m not giving my daughter away when she’s eighteen. That’s way too young.”

  “Oh, so maybe you understand a little better now why my father wasn’t ready to give me to you three years ago?”

  “Perhaps.” I hate admitting that.

  “I needed that time with my family. I wasn’t ready for this then.”

  “Are you ready for this now?”

  “I’d better be.”

  “I’d been waiting for you a long time. I didn’t want to give you the extra three years, but I knew it was what you needed. I wanted you to be happy.”

  “Thank you for waiting.”

  I’ve been waiting for my queen.

  And now I have her.

  15

  Emilia Bellini

  My mom is coming down the staircase as I enter the house. No one is as graceful as she is. When I was a child, I always thought she floated like a butterfly instead of walking like normal people.

  “Emilia? This is a surprise.”

  I can’t tell if she means my visit is a good surprise or a bad one. You can’t always tell with her.

  “I called several times, but no one answered the phone.”

  “That’s because I had to let Maria go.”

  Maria has been with this family for over twenty years. She helped raise me and my siblings.

  “Why did you let her go?”

  “Your fiancé has taken our assets. I must spend wisely… at least until we get everything back.”

  There are a lot of other ways she could have said that, but I don’t mistake that she chose to use one that implies that I am responsible for our family’s lost fortune.

  And it makes me feel like shit.

  “Where did Maria go?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You didn’t ask her if she had a place to live?”

  “She was our housekeeper, Emilia. So no, I didn’t ask.”

  Maria wasn’t only our housekeeper. She was a second mother to me, and at certain times, a first.

  “Why have you brought a bag with you?”

  “I’m staying here for a few days.”

  “Why?”

  I walk toward the staircase. “If you’ll give me a minute to get inside and put my things away, I’ll explain everything to you.”

  “I assume Nonna needs to be present for whatever we discuss?”

  “Definitely.”

  “And your sisters?”

  “Gemma and Micaela. Not Issy.”

  “Isabella was very upset about not being included in the last conversation.”

  “Do you think I was wrong for making her leave?”

  “The subject matter was a tough one, but she’s a Bellini girl. She needs to be conditioned sooner rather than later about the things we must do to survive.”

  “Sex and murder. Do you really think a twelve-year-old girl should be included in that kind of conversation?”

  “Any other twelve-year-old girl? No. But a Bellini girl? Yes.”

  “I don’t think it’s right, but she can be part of the conversation if it’s what you want.”

  I don’t agree with Mamma. Making Issy a part of this is wrong. No girl her age should hear the things we’re about to discuss. But who am I to argue with our mother? Per Nonna’s request, Mamma is matriarch of this family.

  I place my suitcase on the floor and look around my bedroom. It hasn’t even been two weeks since I last slept in this bed, but it feels like a million years ago after everything that has happened this week.

  My life is so different now. I’m different. I feel like I’ve aged ten years in the last ten days.

  A month ago, I was a nice Catholic girl who was obedient to God. And now? I’m a sex-loving fallen woman who is plotting multiple murders. And for what? Revenge and money.

  Luca Rossini has changed me. And I hate him for it.

  My family has already gathered in the living room when I enter.

  “Welcome home.”

  “Thank you, Nonna. I’m happy to be back.”

  “How long are you staying?”

  “Only a few days.”

  “I know you haven’t been gone for very long, but you somehow look different,” Gemma says.

  “I am different.” I’m not the same Emilia who left this house ten days ago.

  “Why has Luca let you come home?” my mother asks.

  “Nothing exciting. I simply started my period, which means I’m of no use to him for a few days.”

  My mother clicks her tongue. “Oh. Well, that’s disappointing.”

  I’ve only been gone ten days. What did she expect?

  “There was no way for it to happen. The timing was off.”

  “I understand.”

  “I need you to teach me how to predict which days I can get pregnant.”

  “It’s pretty simple. Just count fourteen days after the first day of your period, and then include the two days before and the two days after. You should ovulate sometime within that five-day window. It’s the opposite if you are trying to avoid pregnancy. You would count an extra day before and after and avoid sex during the seven-day window.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it if you have regular periods about every twenty-eight days or so.” My mother clears her throat. “Another thing. Your mucus down there will be different. It becomes stretchy and clear.”

  Oh my God. My mother is teaching me about mucus down there. That’s not at all uncomfortable to hear.

  “And your body temperature will rise anywhere from a half degree to a whole degree. You’ll have to take it every morning before you get out of bed to detect a change.”

  “Do you believe in this method?”

  “I had five planned children instead of fifteen unplanned. I believe in it.”

  “What about you, Nonna?”

  “I don’t know anything about it. But I do know that when your mother decided she was ready to be pregnant, she would be the next month.”

  I hope this works for me.

  I really, really, really need this to work.

  “Is the sex as bad as it was the first time?”

  Erotic ecstasy. Sexual bliss. Sensual euphoria. Take your pick.

  “I close my eyes and tolerate it.”

  “Oh, Em. I’m so sorry this is happening to you. I would take your place if I could,” Gemma says.

  I think about that for a moment, and I’m surprised by the feelings it stirs. “This is my duty. No one else’s.”

  When I get home, I want him to look into my eyes, caress my cheek… and tell me to take off my panties.

  “Everything is riding on this baby. You must give it your all, or we will lose everything.”

  “I know, Mamma. I’m going to do whatever it takes to give him the son he wants so badly.”

  My life has never been my own to live. I’ve always been a piece in this gam
e, but it’s time to begin making my own moves.

  “I know how I’m going to kill Luca.”

  “Tell us.”

  “He’s a cocaine addict.”

  My mother gasps and places her hands together, covering her mouth. “This is wonderful news. Are you thinking overdose?”

  “Something like that.”

  “An overdose would be perfect. Cocaine is a bad habit he picked up before you came into his life. It’ll appear as though he died by his own hand. No one will suspect a thing.”

  “I think it could work.”

  “I know you don’t think so, but you were bred for this life. I’ve always known that you were destined for greatness, and I wasn’t wrong. Everyone is going to know who Emilia Bellini Rossini is.”

  Emilia Bellini Rossini.

  What about Emilia Bellini Moretti? Where did she go? What happened to that girl?

  She didn’t want this life. She didn’t choose it. It chose her. And now she has no choice but to become the femme fatale Luca Rossini has made her.

  16

  Luca Rossini

  Walking by the dining room, I stop and look at the table. There’s a pair of white candles with burned black wicks, obviously once taller than they are now, placed in front of two plates. One is partially eaten, the other is untouched.

  Looks like beef and cheese manicotti, one of my favorite dishes. I’d bet anything that it’s a Bellini family recipe.

  It’s barely eleven, and the house is quiet and dark. Has Emilia gone to bed already? Or did she leave and go back to the Bellini mansion?

  I open the bedroom door, and I’m relieved when I see the outline of her body on the bed.

  “Emilia?”

  Nothing.

  I strip down to my boxers and slide into bed. Gliding to the middle, I reach for her hip and grip it. “Emilia.”

  She stirs, twisting to look back at me over her shoulder, and says nothing.

  “I’m home.”

  “I see that.” She turns back and settles into position on her side, her back turned to me. “Good night.”

  “It’s been three days. Don’t you want to see me?”

  “I did. That’s why I came home early and cooked dinner for you. And then sat here by myself and ate alone.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “You would have known if you’d bothered to call home.”

  “I couldn’t call. There was a situation. A dangerous one.”

  The mattress bounces when she tosses and turns over to face me. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, but one of my men was killed tonight.”

  “Who? And by whom? What happened?”

  I reach out in the dark and cup the side of her face. “I don’t want to worry you about such things.”

  “Tell me, Luca. I want to know.”

  “It was Rossini family business.”

  “I don’t want us to run this empire the way our parents and grandparents have. I want to be told what’s going on.”

  “And I want you to be burden-free just as our mothers and grandmothers were.”

  “I’m strong. I can handle whatever comes.”

  “I know you can, but that’s not what I want for my wife.”

  “Will you at least tell me if you were in danger tonight?”

  “If I was, would you care?”

  It takes one, two, three heartbeats before she answers. “I would care very much.”

  “Why? Because my death would free you from this arrangement?”

  “It’s a waste of time to talk about what-if situations. I’m not free. I’m yours, and I’m at your mercy. We both know that. And we also both know how pleased you are about that.”

  “I am pleased by it.” And I’m beginning to suspect that she might not hate being mine nearly as much as she lets on.

  “Did you learn anything while you were with your family?”

  “My mother taught me how to use my period to predict my fertile days.”

  “That’ll be helpful.”

  “It’s not one hundred percent accurate, so we shouldn’t limit ourselves to only doing it during the five-day window.”

  “We should do it on other days too?”

  “Our chances of being successful would improve if we did it more days.”

  “What about every day?”

  “Every day would increase the odds of success.”

  Hmm. I think someone may have an obsession with my newly discovered sexual talents.

  “What if I fuck you every night and again every morning? And then maybe on my lunch break?”

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  I am, one hundred percent.

  “I would not dare make fun of you when it comes to sex.”

  “You are.” She rolls over, turning her back on me again. “Fuck you, Luca Rossini. I hate you.”

  Ah, shit. I’ve pissed off the princess.

  “Come on… I was kidding, Em.”

  “You don’t get to call me Em. Only my friends and family who love me get to call me by that name.”

  “I was only having a little fun. Don’t be mad at me.”

  “You know what, Luca? There is only a very brief time each month when my body is capable of getting pregnant, and I don’t know when that small slice of time will be. I’m trying to cover all the bases because everyone will blame me if it doesn’t happen. No one will blame you. I know how this works. I’ll be the one who is labeled infertile, and you’ll get to move on to the next girl when I’m not able to give you a son.”

  The increased pitch of her voice is an indicator of the pressure she’s feeling.

  “Turn over.”

  “No.”

  “Turn over and face me.”

  She doesn’t say anything, and she also doesn’t move a muscle.

  “Now, Emilia.”

  Still nothing.

  “You’re so fucking stubborn,” I murmur as I grip her hip and force her to roll to her back. “Is your period over?”

  “Yes.”

  Gripping her panties at each hip, I drag them down her legs.

  “No. I don’t want to.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m mad at you.”

  “But you wanted it before you were mad?” She doesn’t answer me, and that’s when I know I have her. “Go on. Admit it.”

  “I’m not admitting anything.”

  “You wanted to fuck before I teased you. I know you did.”

  Her only response is a long sigh.

  I push her nightgown up and kiss her bare stomach, dragging my tongue side-to-side across her pubic bone. “Do you get tingles between your legs when I kiss you here?”

  Rapid breaths. Tilting pelvis. I’ll take that as a yes, but I want to hear her admit it.

  “Answer me or it stops.”

  “Yes, Luca. I get tingles when you kiss me there.”

  Good girl.

  I move my face lower and open my mouth, breathing heavily between her legs but not touching her. She pants and lifts her hips from the bed, grazing my stubbled chin.

  “Is your pussy throbbing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

  “I don’t know. No one has ever done that to me.”

  There it is—the proof I desperately wanted to hear. Moretti never tasted what belongs to me. Another first that I get to give her.

  “Don’t worry, Emilia. I’m going to give you everything you don’t know how to ask for.”

  17

  Emilia Bellini

  It’s ten o’clock, and I’ve not heard a word from Luca. Again. This little habit of his is beginning to annoy the shit out of me.

  Going in search of Sal, I find him in the billiards room with the other resident Rossini soldiers.

  “Do you know where Luca is?”

  Sal looks up from his hand of cards. “I dropped him and th
e guys off at Fever.”

  “Fever? What is that?”

  “A disco.”

  “How long ago?”

  “I just got back from taking them.”

  “Did he tell you when to come back?”

  “No. He’ll call when he’s ready to be picked up.”

  Luca Rossini is crazy if he thinks I’m going to sit here, night after night, while he goes out partying with his pals. And whoever else.

  “I’m going out. I’ll need you to drive me in about forty minutes.”

  “Yes, Miss Bellini.”

  I phone Elena and breathe a sigh of relief when she answers. It’s Thursday night. I’m lucky she hasn’t already gone out for the evening. “Get your ass ready. We’re going out.”

  “I started getting ready thirty minutes ago.”

  “Are you meeting up with someone?”

  “Natala. We’re going to Beat’s.”

  Beat’s doesn’t work for me. “Change of plans. The two of you are going with me to Fever.”

  “Awesome. What time?”

  “I’ll be there in an hour. And I need to borrow your gold minidress.”

  I don’t have Elena’s boobs, but I think I can pull it off.

  “What are you up to?”

  “I’ll tell you on the way.”

  An hour and a half later, I’m wearing Elena’s skimpiest sequin dress and the three of us are navigating our way through the crowd inside the disco club. The place is packed.

  I search for Luca, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Something tells me that he wouldn’t be sitting out in the open for just anyone to see.

  “I’m going to the bar and ask where Luca is.”

  “Do you think they’ll tell you?”

  “They will when they find out who I am.”

  I push my way through the crowd to the bar and hold up my hand when the bartender looks my way.

  “What can I get you?”

  “I’m looking for Luca Rossini.”

  He laughs. “You and every other woman in this club.”

  “I’m Emilia Bellini. His fiancée.”

  “Sure, you are.”

  I take out a hundred-dollar bill and hold it in front of the bartender. “I need to see my fiancé. Where is he?”