My breath hitches from his words. I had almost forgotten or maybe purposely put the concept of pregnancy and babies out of my head. The reality is that we haven’t used protection once since we’ve been married and I very well could be pregnant already.
Taking the bread from him, I chew, my eyes never leaving his. Swallowing, I watch him. He doesn’t move, his eyes searching my own for a moment.
He lifts his hand, wrapping his fingers around the front of my throat. I hold my breath, waiting to see what he’s going to say or do next. He’s so damn unpredictable. His other hand cups my cheek and his thumb slides over my lips, just a gentle brush, obviously not wishing to mess up my lipstick with the move.
“You’re beautiful, Pippa. Most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. I hope you realize that.”
He doesn’t say anything else. His hand drops from my neck and I watch as he straightens and makes his way back over to his seat. Neither of us speaks for a while. My gaze flicks from my food to him as he eats across the table from me.
Squirming in my seat, I wonder how watching a man eat could be so sexy? He chews and I almost moan as he works the food down his sexy throat, then he drinks some wine and it starts all over again.
“Pippa?” he asks, his voice deep and rough.
Inhaling a deep breath, I shake my head. “You already know about my parents, where are yours?” I chance asking.
His brows rise and a scowl appears on his face. I expect him to tell me absolutely nothing about his family solely based on the look he’s wearing, but he surprises me.
“My mother was a comaré. You know what that is, yes?”
“I do,” I whisper.
A side piece, a mistress, whatever you want to label them, the men in the mafia usually have at least one, possibly more. They also create entire families with them. Just another reason I never wanted to marry a Made Man. But, here I am.
“She was killed. Shot in the middle of the street. There was war, she was a bystander. My father had no choice but to take me in, and his wife had no choice but to raise me.”
“Massimo,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “She was nice to me when my father was around, which was rarely. The rest of the time she acted as though I didn’t exist. I’m sure she hated me because of what I represented. I have no doubt she was angry that she was forced to raise me, had to pretend to the world that she loved me as her own. She couldn’t have her own children, you see?”
“That’s awful.”
Massimo nods. “It is, but my father didn’t make it bearable, he didn’t make things better after my mother died. Instead, he just found another woman to keep in an apartment. He openly dated her, which only made his wife angrier.”
I press my lips together for a moment, my eyes searching his and realizing that this is one reason he doesn’t fully smile. He has had a rough start to his life, he hasn’t felt love like he should have.
“He’s since retired and thankfully moved away. I haven’t seen him in years. His wife, she passed away about ten years ago from cancer.”
A thought floods my mind, maybe Massimo truly doesn’t know how to smile?
I decide right here and now that I’m going to show him. I’m going to teach him how to laugh and smile, not just go through the motions, but really do it. I’m determined, and when I set my mind to something, there is no stopping me.
Chapter Sixteen
MASSIMO
Luca is standing next to the small door of the bakery. This is one of the best bakeries in town, probably in the state if I were to be honest. They stayed small for decades when they probably could have expended a dozen times over. The old man passed away a couple of months ago and the son has been looking to expand, if the rumors are true.
“They refusing to pay?” I ask.
He jerks his chin. “Same kind of situation. Son doesn’t want to pay at all. Old man kicked the bucket couple of months ago and he’s taking over the business.”
Letting out my breath with a heavy sigh, I nod as I reach forward and wrap my hand around the door, pulling it open with a grunt. The bakery is busy, as it usually is. It’s actually one of my favorites, I always order breads and treats from here if I’m in need.
Walking over to an empty table, I sit down. Luca follows me but doesn’t sit down. “You want anything?” he asks.
“Order me some cannolis for Pippa, yeah?” Luca smirks at me before he turns his back and I watch him fall into line to be waited on.
Taking my phone out of my pocket, I send a text to Gavino and ask for a meet. I need to tell him about the pictures and the email that I received. I started thinking about it late last night when I couldn’t sleep. Started going through the possibilities of who it could be.
Who the fuck got my personal email address? A phone number I could see, that shit gets passed around like candy, but an email? Who the fuck even emails like that anymore anyway? Everything is done through text messaging.
NEED TO MEET. IN PERSON.
GAVINO: FREE IN ONE HOUR.
I’LL BE AT YOUR OFFICE.
I stay planted in my chair for the next twenty minutes until Luca finally makes his way to the front of the line. I watch as he orders the cannolis then makes his way over to the cash register where the son, and new owner, is ringing up people.
Luca pays as he speaks, I watch as the son’s eyes widen, then shift over to meet mine. He jerks his chin, turns back to talk to someone behind him, then he stomps toward me and flops down in the chair across from mine.
“What the fuck do you want? You can try to shake me down, but I ain’t payin’. My dad may have been a pussy, but I’m not.”
“A pussy?” I ask.
He arches a brow, his eyes focused on me and nowhere else. He’s stupid. Where his father was smart enough to know not to fuck with us, what battles to fight. This man thinks that he’s a badass because he’s standing up to me. All he’s going to get is fucking dead doing that shit.
“He bowed down to you. Made those payments every month like clockwork, as if he fucking owed you something.”
Tilting my head to the side, I watch him for a moment, my face completely expressionless. He hasn’t offended me, hasn’t upset me in the slightest.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Roman,” he spits.
“Your father didn’t bow to anyone. Your father knew when to stand and fight and when to accept what is just part of life. This is part of life, think of it as taxes. You not paying those either?”
Roman stands, shaking his head. “Not the same. I won’t be forced to pay you. I won’t be bullied or anything else. Go fuck yourself and the entire Zanetti famiglia can fuck themselves too,” he growls.
He stands before he turns from me, walking away. I shake my head with a sigh as I rise to my feet. “Sorry it has to be this way. You let me know when you want to recant all of that,” I say to his back as I turn and walk away from him.
“It’ll be a cold day in hell,” he bellows.
Looking over my shoulder, my lips tip up into a small smile. “That can be arranged,” I calmly state.
I don’t give him an opportunity to respond. Instead, I leave the bakery. Luca follows me, his shoes clicking behind me as we walk down the street and around the corner where our cars are both parked.
Once we’re by our cars, I spin around to look at him. “He’s going to be a problem,” I grunt.
Luca snorts. “I got him as a problem and two Johns that fucked up a couple of girls that I need to deal with after I leave here. I don’t need this douche.”
Shaking my head, I hold out my hand. He slips the box of cannolis in my palm and I let out a sigh. “Get a couple guys on him twenty-four seven. I don’t want them to approach, but just have a presence. Maybe that will be enough to scare him straight.”
“He seems pretty firm,” Luca murmurs.
“He seems pretty fuckin’ stupid.”
Luca chuckles. “That too.”
> “If he doesn’t make contact in one week, I’ll deal with him myself,” I grunt.
Luca whistles as he shakes his head. “You sure you wanna do that? He ain’t worth that kind of movement, is he?”
Licking my lips, I jerk my chin. “It’s not about him being worth it. It’s about me showing that we aren’t going to put up with that kind of shit. If we let it go, then what does that say about us? It says we’re weak. It says that nobody has to pay and if they don’t think they have to, they won’t.”
“Yeah.” Luca nods.
“Let me know if you need me for anything else, I have to meet with Vino.”
Luca lifts his hand and gives me a two-fingered wave. I watch as he jogs toward his car as I open my passenger seat and set the cannolis down on the floor. It’s going to fucking suck if I have to knock this bastard off and can’t get pastries anymore.
Climbing into my car, I let out a frustrated sigh, I put in a call to Pippa before I head toward Gavino’s.
PIPPA
My phone buzzes in my hand. Without hesitating, I slide my finger across the screen and accept the call, placing it to my ear.
“What are you doing?” Massimo asks. His voice is sharp and I can tell he’s annoyed.
Clearing my throat, I look around the furniture store. “Shopping,” I say. “For furniture,” I clarify.
“You find anything?”
“No.”
There’s a moment of silence, I can tell he’s driving and I wonder what he’s doing today. Biting the corner of my lip, I wish that I could ask him such a simple question. I know that I can’t though.
Dropping my head, I look at my shoes. I wish he were here, that someone else was here with me. I feel really isolated and alone. Pinching my eyes closed, I shake my head.
Maybe I don’t really need to be so alone, I can call anyone that I want. He hasn’t told me that I have to cut off contact with anyone in my life, but it just doesn’t feel right to bother any of the other wives or to invite any of my old friends.
“I’ll be home by dinner. You’ll be ready for me.” He says the words, doesn’t ask, he tells me that I will be ready.
“I’ll be ready,” I whisper.
I don’t have any more lingerie that he hasn’t seen, so I mentally add going to Lenora’s store to my list. I have Massimo’s credit card in my purse, along with a huge envelope of cash just in case they won’t let me use his card without him.
He has encouraged me to buy whatever I want, without limits. I hate that. I feel as though I’m going to become one of those women, one of those wives, the exact thing that I despise. The thing is? I can see just how easy it is to become one of them.
“I’ll see you later, dolcezza.”
He ends the call and I’m left standing in the middle of the shop. Deciding that this is just way too overwhelming, I give up, leaving the furniture store and head toward Lenora’s. I guess I’ll be living with the whores’ furniture for a while.
Hailing a cab outside of the furniture store, I give him the address to Lenora’s shop that I found on my phone. Tipping my head down, I scroll through my phone. I pull up Instagram and start to thumb down the images.
My friends, though, are they? Not one of them has tried to contact me since I disappeared. They are all posting pictures, selfies, pretty food pics, and stories of them partying, clubbing, doing whatever they normally do in their carefree lives.
Pressing my lips together, I debate posting a picture of my wedding. I have a few that Rosana took that night and forwarded to me. Exiting that app, I find my picture one and scroll through the dozen photos that she sent me.
My gaze roams over the images. I look really pretty. I don’t know why that surprises me. I had help with my hair and makeup, my dress was gorgeous, it would make anyone feel and look prettier.
Pulling up Instagram again, I decide to click the button to add an image to my feed. I choose the third picture that Rosana sent me.
It’s both me and Massimo.
He’s standing behind me and to the left. His hand is wrapped around my waist and he’s looking at Rosana with a small smile on his lips. My body is turned slightly to face him. I’m not smiling, but I am looking up at him softly.
I don’t choose a filter, but I do write a status on it adding a couple of hashtags.
Mrs. Ferrucci.
#MrandMrs #Married #ModernBride
#WeddingDay #NewWife #Newlyweds
#Adventure
Holding my breath, I touch the share button. Pinching my eyes closed for a moment, I wonder if any one of the thousand people that follow me will even notice. Will any of the people that I have considered my friends over the years notice?
“We’re here,” the cabbie announces.
Sitting up straight, I reach into my purse and hand him cash, plus a tip, for the fare before I open the door and step out onto the sidewalk. The cab pulls away and I tilt my head back, looking up at the signage above me.
I’m in front of a small café. Turning my head to the side, I see that Lenora’s shop is about half a block down. A little too nervous to head into her store immediately, I decide to go into the café and buy an iced coffee first.
Once I have my drink in hand, I walk over to an empty table and sit down. Unable to keep from checking, I look through my phone. Pulling up the Instagram app, I blink in surprise at the amount of people who has hit the heart icon. It’s been ten minutes, I already have two-hundred hearts on my image, and thirty comments. They’re all simple, some are surprised but most are just sentiments of congratulations.
MARISSA: WHAT THE HELL? MARRIED?!!!!!
I’m not surprised that Marissa is the first to contact me. She and I have been the closest, she’s who I would have stayed with in her studio if I thought that I would have been able to get on my feet in a couple of weeks.
SURPRISE!
I text back, chewing on my straw. I see those little three dots on the phone pop up, then go away, then pop back up a few more times before a text finally comes through.
MARISSA: BITCH. WHAT THE HELL? I NEED DEETS PRONTO. COFFEE TOMORROW?
I think about telling her no, coming up with some kind of excuse, then I realize that I don’t have to. Out of everyone I know, she actually gives a shit.
WHERE?
MARISSA: OUR SPOT.
I’LL BE THERE. 10?
MARISSA: BE READY TO SPILL.
Shaking my head, I send her one last text telling her that I will and then shove my phone in my purse. Grabbing my coffee, I take one more long sip from the straw before I head out of the café.
Stepping out onto the sidewalk, I turn toward Lenora’s shop. With a deep breath, I take a step, then another. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s not like I haven’t seen her several times over the past several weeks, but I am.
I want her to like me.
I want to fit in.
I want to find my place.
I’ve actually never wanted anything more.
The truth is that I may not be able to fit in, with anyone, ever. I’m not like the other wives. I didn’t marry for love, like Lenora and Chloe. I didn’t find love again like Nicola. I didn’t know him my entire life, then fall in love, the way Luciana did. Massimo owns me.
I agreed to his terms, but at the end of the day, I am his. Owned by this man. This beautiful, sad man that I could fall in love with if I’m not careful. But a man who I don’t think will ever fall in love with me.
Chapter Seventeen
PIPPA
Walking into Lenora’s shop, Sugar Cookies, the bell above the door jingles as the scent of sugar cookies fills my nose. Grinning, I inhale again, enjoying the scent. Then I decide that I should stop by a café or bakery on the way home and buy some fresh cookies to take to Massimo for dessert.
“Pippa?” a voice calls out.
Turning toward the front counter, my lips turn up into a smile. Lenora is standing there, her hair over one shoulder in a long braid. I make my way towar
d her at the same time she shifts from around her counter, heading my way.
Her arms wrap around me before I realize what she’s doing, she hugs me… like a friend would.
“Oh my gosh, how are you?” she asks. “Arlo told me to leave you alone this week, said you were busy. I’ve been dying to call you.”
I blink. She has been wanting to call me? Unable to stop myself, my lips turn up into a smile. “I’m good. I was out furniture shopping today, but it was kind of disappointing. So, I decided to buy something that I actually like to look for instead.”
“I can totally help you with the fun stuff.” Lenora grins, giving me a small wink.
Together we walk around her store, she shows me some of the new merchandise. Everything is really sweet and while I know that Massimo likes sweet, I think that he may like something not-so-sweet too.
“Do you have anything a little more…” My words trail off as I try to think of the description that I want to give her.
Lenora lets out a little giggle. “I do, in the back. I put all the good stuff back there, c’mon.”
She lifts her hand and motions for me to follow behind her. Inhaling a deep breath, my high-heeled feet carry me behind her. My lips part in awe when I finally enter the room. It’s a small space, but the things that line the walls, some of them are just… shocking.
“Some items are a little wild, but it takes all kinds of people in this world,” Lenora murmurs.
Turning to look at her, I lift my brows as my eyes widen. She lets out a small laugh and flashes me a wide grin. “Take your time, if you have any questions, please don’t be embarrassed to ask me. Anything we say in this shop is completely between us,” she offers.
Becoming the Street Boss: A Zanetti Famiglia Novel Page 13