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MAFIA LORD LOVER 49
FaustEVERYONE in my house hated me.It had been two weeks and Giulio still hadn't spoken to me, his eyes filled with sadness and disgust. Zia was furious that I had sent Francesca away. I couldn't tell her why, except to say that Francesca had cheated on me. Zia replied that it was nonsense, that Francesca was in love with me and I had ruined everything with my temper.I didn't have the courage to correct her.Even Marco seemed to tiptoe around me, acting as if I were a volcano that could erupt at any moment.Maybe I was a little on edge, but it wasn't allowed? I was the most important man in Calabria, perhaps in all of Italy, and I had a secretly gay son and a cheating gold digger pregnant with my child. I increased the speed on my treadmill and my legs started to burn. I had already logged an hour running and wasn't sure how much longer I could continue.But I couldn't stop until I was exhausted. It was the only way I could sleep.I had removed all traces of her from the house. I f
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FrancescaTHE TERM—MORNING SICKNESS —was a lie, no doubt invented by a man to give the impression that it wasn't so bad. New news for women everywhere: it was horrible.I rolled over and grabbed another ginger candy. While these little golden ovals didn't eliminate the nausea, they definitely reduced it. And pregnant beggars didn't have a choice.After sucking on the candy for a few moments, I felt ready to get up.Do not wait. Not so fast.I fell back down and closed my eyes. I hated it. I hated being in Italy. I hated being a woman. I hated being pregnant.And I really hated this baby's father.I no longer referred to him by name. He was -my baby's father- or -il Diavolo- whenever I had to mention him in conversation. Which didn't happen often, considering Giulio and my sisters were the only people I spoke to.At least the beach was beautiful. The house was predictably beautiful, right on the water, with large, airy rooms and expensive furniture. If I had to be a prisoner, at least
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FaustI often dreamed of blood.I laugh at it, filling my mouth and choking me. Drowning myself and everyone I cared about, with no hope of survival.The dreams began when I was a soldier, still being groomed under my father's watchful eye. Back then, the boss's son didn't get a pass on the most gruesome tasks. No, they used these tasks to harden me, to transform me from a boy into a man.A man capable of leading the most dangerous mafia in the world. A'Ndrangheta. There was no choice for me, no other life to consider. Over the years, I followed instructions and never dared to show a hint of weakness. Torture and killing became second nature to me, a job I learned to love. This earned me the respect of my brothers'ndrina and the fear of my enemies. Whispers followed me wherever I went, stories of my cruelty spread far and wide.This made my father proud.He told me this many times, especially after seeing me at my worst. They called him when I was too anxious with my knife, the blo
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Faust9 I rubbed my eyes behind my glasses. The words on the screen were fuzzy, my body too tired to concentrate.Sighing, I picked up my Campari and tonic. I had started drinking in the early afternoon, a habit that Marco disliked immensely, but which I found necessary to ease the pain inside my chest. The last two nights I fell into bed in a drunken stupor and passed out for a few hours.It was an improvement over weeks of sleepless nights.Marco was sitting in the corner on his phone, pretending to ignore me while actually watching me closely. He wasn't fooling me.I read the numbers on the screen again, wanting to prove that I was still on top of my empire. — Toni just made us more than two million euros by selling a technology share.Marco grunted.— Maybe we don't need D'Agostino for this computer idea.He did not answer.I drummed my fingers on the table and took a sip of my drink. When I drank, my thoughts often returned to her, even when I tried to avoid it.She made a fool
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This tour was boring.No one spoke after the call with Fausto ended. Enzo seemed lost in thought and Mariella was looking at her phone. I focused on not vomiting, which seemed like a real possibility with each passing minute.I had to get out of this car.—Can we stop? I need to use the bathroom.Enzo asked Mariella if she wanted to stop, and the other woman shrugged without taking her eyes off her cell phone. He met my eyes in the rearview mirror. — I'm going to stop at the side of the road. There are bushes and trees.—Fuck this. A real bathroom with a real toilet or I swear, I'll ruin the leather upholstery on this car.He looked at me, then made a call. Whoever was on the phone called him Don D'Agostino, so I assumed it was someone who worked for Enzo. Strange that he didn't travel with the level of security and paranoia that plagued other mob bosses. Was this confidence or stupidity?When we finally stopped at a gas station, two black SUVs were parked there. Four men got out of e
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FrancescaClean and modern, Enzo's beach house was the opposite of the castle. The property stretched along the Gulf of Naples, each room offering a magnificent view of the water and Vesuvius. Mariella lived here, while Enzo's wife and children were elsewhere, and he had the luxury of coming and going, the cheating bastard.Even though Enzo was barely around, his guards were always present, as was Mariella, which meant I was never alone, and I was exhausted. I spent most of my time wondering if this was the day I would be tortured or raped in revenge against Faust. Or worse, the day Enzo realized I was of no use to him and put a bullet in my brain.I barely slept. I ate to keep my stomach at peace, but I worried that every bite of food was poisoned. Every noise made me jump, and my nerves felt stretched to the breaking point. How much more of this could I take? How much longer until they realized I was pregnant with Faust's baby? What would happen then?The possibilities were too terr
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FaustI knew something was wrong as soon as Giulio, Marco and five of my men crowded into my office on the yacht. We had anchored off the coast of Naples, not far from Enzo's beach house.“Papà,” Giulio said in his most reasonable tone. — You should sit down.Marco grimaced, knowing me well enough to understand how this happened. No one told me to calm down or sit down. I was the boss of this 'ndrina, the capo, and I could never show weakness. “Tell me,” I snapped, remaining on my feet.“A message arrived from D'Agostino,” Marco said. - Is bad.I appreciated his frankness, but my gut clenched all the same. What had D'Agostino done to her? If he had hurt her, I would bomb the entire Gulf of Naples, skull-fuck her corpse, and then go after his wife and children. - Show me.Giulio handed me the phone and I froze. My glorious girl wason his knees, his face covered in tears as a Glock was shoved into his mouth. Enzo trapped her, ropes crossing her body, under her breasts, and I could see
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FrancescaEnzo stayed for dinner.I tried to hide in my room, but they sent me out to the courtyard to eat with Enzo, Mariella and six of their men. The outdoor space was softly lit and lined with beautiful, fragrant flowers. Gentle waves crashed onto the beach in a calming, rhythmic sound. The setting would have been romantic under any other circumstances, but I couldn't appreciate it. I picked at my spaghetti, aware that everyone was surreptitiously watching me. Was the food poisoned? Were they all waiting for me to eat and then pass out at the table?Mariella tried to keep the conversation going, but Enzo's men were not interested in talking, remaining silent, and Enzo gave her one or two word answers. Finally, he looked at me. —Don't you like pasta, Frankie?"— I'm just waiting for the poison to take effect.—Now, why would we poison you? You are much more valuable alive than dead. — He pointed to my plate. — Take a bite.— I'm allergic to shellfish. - It was a lie. I loved seafoo
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