Page 25 of Auctioned To Her Dad's Mafia Enemies

I keep my posture relaxed, but every muscle inmy body tenses, ready. “I’ve been busy with a lot of things.”

He chuckles. “Right. But you know the girl I’mtalking about.Lambretti’slittle bitch.”

A muscle ticks in my jaw, but I don’t let itshow. Aemelia may be my captive, but hearing another man talk shit about hermakes my blood boil. “And?”

Alfonso leans forward, steepling the fingers Iwant to shatter beneath my polished shoes. “Have you taken her cherry yet?”

Silence descends over the table. His menshift, watching me closely. Marco stiffens at my side, his hand casuallyresting on his belt, close enough to his gun to make a point.

I don’t smile. I don’t react. I simply tilt myhead, regarding him with cold amusement. “A man should never ask about anotherman’s personal affairs, Alfonso. You know that. Next, you’ll be asking aboutthe length of my cock.”

His grin widens, but there’s tension in itnow. He’s testing me, pushing to see where the cracks might be.

I straighten my jacket. “Enjoy the drinks.Play some hands, win some money. Or lose…” I wave my hand like I don’t careeither way.

Alfonso watches me for a beat longer, thenlifts his glass. “Salute. Always a pleasure, Venturi.”

I turn to Marco as we step away. “Keep an eyeon them.”

Marco’s expression is grim. “I don’t likethis.”

“Neither do I.”

The Mesinas aren’t here to gamble. They’rehere to see where we stand. And that means the friction that’s been simmeringjust beneath the surface is one step closer to erupting.

10

ANTONIO

THE TASTE OF INNOCENCE

Aemelia’s hair is matted and filthy, her skinpale and greasy, and when I rest the tray of toasted bread and soft cheese infront of her, the scent of her unwashed body reaches my nose. She hasn’tshowered since she got here, despite having a private bathroom and all thecosmetics and toiletries she could possibly need. Since we forced her to makethe video, she’s retreated inside herself, and her descent from defiance tohopelessness fills me with dread. She pushes the tray away and turns from me.

I sit on the bed as worry becomes anunpleasant vibration in my skull. I can hear my mama's voice in my head.‘Eat’. It’s her favorite word to say toall of her family, as though she worries we’ll face starvation tomorrow andneed our body fat to survive. Food trauma passes from generation to generation,past experiences of food shortages lingering like a specter, but I don’t say itto Aemelia. Not yet.

“You need to shower.”

“Fuck you,” she mutters.

Still with the mouth.

“You want to fester in your own filth?”

She scoffs. “If I stink, maybe your brotherwill think twice about touching me again.”

This is a problem; this war that’s beingfought in her head where she thinks she can find a way to beat all the odds andwin. I don’t know how she hasn’t worked out that her life is in danger and hercompliance is necessary to survive.

I don’t want to be the one to teach her, butLuca won’t be as restrained if she tests him, and Alexis is already thinkingabout ruining her. If she needs to learn, I have to be the one to teach her.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about men,” Isay. “The smell of you now… it would only turn him on.”

She swivels to look at me, her eyebrows highon her forehead.

“You think I’m lying.” I lean closer andinhale, and the pheromones in her scent replace all the bad vibrations in myhead with lust and desire.

“You’re all disgusting.”

“No,gattina. Just human. But it’s not good to stay dirty.”

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