Page 29 of Mafia Darling

No way to hide it now. I waved my hand, indicating Toni should explain. My cousin shot me an apologetic look before saying, “She’d like to sell the house in Portofino.”

I snorted. “Have we even finalized the paperwork? She doesn’t even own it yet and she’s trying to make a quick Euro.”

“This is why she needs our—my—help. I wanted to check with you first.”

“Is there a reason not to let her sell it?” Francesca asked, her attention on me.

I shrugged, annoyed that our day had been tainted by this unpleasant conversation. I didn’t want Francesca reminded of the women in my past. “Other than her appalling sense of greed? No.”

“You cannot blame her, Fausto,” she said, her voice calm. “Both of you went into that arrangement with your eyes wide open. Do not penalize her for using it to her advantage now that she’s on her own.”

My soft-hearted dolcezza. This was the side of her I had missed the most, the one who looked out for her sisters. Who insisted on saving the baby lambs. The woman who stood up for my son, even when it had cost her everything.

Dio cane, I worshiped her.

Lifting her hand to my mouth, I pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “Let Katarzyna sell the house,” I told Toni, keeping my gaze on Francesca.

Her breath hitched and she licked her lips. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but her hooded lids gave me a good idea. If Toni wasn’t here, I would ask her if her panties were wet. Perhaps I’d even check for myself.

Without warning, she jerked away from me and pushed away from the table. “Excuse me. I must use the restroom.”

Toni and I stood as Francesca hurried from the room. I had rattled her, which was very good. Glancing at Benito, who stood in the corner, I flicked my hand to indicate he should follow her. Because I owned the restaurant, I wasn’t worried that someone would hurt her. They wouldn’t dare.

But I was worried she might try to escape.

* * *

Francesca

I was weak.

I could feel my resolve crumbling like day-old bread. Those dark eyes of his, that sexy voice. It was like Fausto had a direct line to my hormones and he could pluck those strings at will, flooding my system with lust so strong I couldn’t breathe.

Between my legs was a needy mess. My traitorous body had clearly forgotten all Fausto had done wrong, and no amount of reminders was keeping me immune to him.

I pushed into the ladies toilet and entered the empty stall. After I relieved myself, I came out to wash my hands and splash water on my face. I had to pull it together. I could not forgive him or start sleeping with him again. Both were terrible ideas.

God, but the look on his face when he saw our eleven-week old baby during the ultrasound. It was like he’d been the emotional one, his eyes turning glassy as he stared at the computer screen. I’d almost grabbed his hand, needing to share the joy and excitement for a moment, but somehow thought better of it.

You were very much my whore—and a good one at that.

Those words still hurt. He’d been so cruel, so cold. What was to say that wouldn’t happen again when I did something he didn’t like? I couldn’t risk it, not when I had a child to think of. I could not be at Fausto Ravazzani’s mercy ever again.

The door to the ladies room opened and an older woman walked in. I gave her a polite smile and finished drying my hands. As I went to go past her, she put a hand up. “Francesca Mancini?”

How did she know my name? “Who are you?”

She pulled a card out from her coat pocket. “I am Mia Rinaldo.”

I glanced down at the card. Guardia di Finanza. Holy shit. Even I knew they were the police force in charge of smuggling and financial crimes. Basically everything Fausto did.

That they were approaching me, here in the ladies’ room, couldn’t be a good thing.

My anger at Fausto aside, I could never side with the police. That had been ingrained in me since birth. I thrust the card back at her and retreated a step. “No.”

“You haven’t even heard what I have to say.”

I tried to move around her. “It doesn’t matter,” I hissed. “I don’t want to hear it.”

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