Page 15 of Auctioned To Her Dad's Mafia Enemies

Aemelia’s eyes meet mine, dark brown andhaunting, and I hold the stare, waiting for her to break away first. When shedoes, she lowers the bread to her plate.

“Eat,” I say again, this time louder. No oneis fading away under my roof. She will leave this place physically strong ifnothing else. If Carlo sees sense.

Antonio, who’s still standing at the counter,watches everything. He’ll be in control today. We need footage of Aemelia topass to her father’s last known contacts—footage that will draw him out of hisrats nest.

“I’m famished,” Alexis says, popping an oliveinto his mouth. “I slept like a dog.”

“Log,” Aemelia says.

We all stop what we’re doing to stare at her.Did she just correct Alexis?

She did.

I glance at Antonio who tips his head as if tosay, I told you she was going to be trouble. Alexis laughs, his initial shockforgotten. “No,gattina.Like a big, lazy fucking dog. But I do have some nice thick wood if you’d liketo see it.”

She chews on a piece of mozzarella, seeminglyunphased by everything going on around her.

“And you?” I ask her. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a cuckoo,” she says softly. “In thewrong fucking nest.”

I bite the inside of my lip, surprise almostmaking me smile. Alexis, showing zero restraint, barks with laughter. “Thisfucking girl.” He slaps the table, making everything jump.

“You know who else is in the wrong fuckingnest,” I hiss. “My brother. He’s been resting in the fucking ground in yourfather’s place.”

“Which is nothing to do with me.” She leansforward, jaw set, mouth pressed into a grim line.

I fight a smile. “Oh,gattina. You’re going to find outjust how much it has become your problem after you eat your expensiveprosciutto and drink your expensive coffee and dress in the expensive clotheswe have ordered for you.”

She looks down at herself. The room is warmbut still her nipples are dark and tight beneath the lace. “You mean, you don’tlike this beautiful outfit. I thought you’d love it.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because it’s cheap and nasty.”

I narrow my eyes and slowly dab my mouth witha white napkin. When I’m done, I lower it to the table. “She’s done with herbreakfast. Antonio, take her to her room.”

This fucking girl.

He’s across the room like a shot, his handaround her upper arm, half dragging her as she struggles to keep up with him.He gave her the warning last night. A warning she hasn’t heeded. Although herrudeness isn’t his fault directly, he’ll take responsibility for it becausethat’s the kind of man he is.

When the door has closed and he’s locked herinside again, Alexis whistles. “She’s going to be so much fun to break.”

Although nothing comes between me and food,the bread has become paste in my mouth.

When I first stepped up to take a place in thefamily business, my father had given me a man to interrogate. Filled with theconfidence of youth and ignorance, I’d thought it would be easy to extractinformation from him, after all, I was the one with the power and he was boundand defenseless. But he wouldn’t tell me what I needed to know, no matter howmuch I beat and humiliated him. After two hours, he was dead, and I learned avaluable lesson, one I've never forgotten. Not everyone can be broken and thosewho can’t be broken shatter a piece of you in the process.

***

Aemeliais dressed in white to remind her father of what is at stake. The new dress issatin, expensive, and cut close to her body to hint at what’s beneath. Thefabric catches the light, clinging to every curve, a vision of purity taintedby the weight of our intentions. I stare at her, my mouth dry, my dickhalf-hard. AemeliaLambretticould wear a plastic bagand look like fire, but in this dress, she’s a dream I don’t deserve to have.

Andriana must have supplied her with makeup because her face isdecorated with black winged eyeliner and her trademark scarlet lipstick—warpaint to make her look powerful and put together. But I know better. I see theslight tremble in her hands, the way her pulse flickers at the base of herthroat. For all of my denial to my brother, seeing her like this makes me wantto tear the dress from her body and find all sorts of terrible, pleasurableways to smear that lipstick from her pouty lips.

Is this the look that will bring Carlo running into the arms of death?Will he even care?

It’s one thing to leave your family to protect yourself, knowingthey’re going to be safe. It’s another to abandon your daughter to yourenemies, letting the world watch as she suffers in your place. TheLambrettiname is already mud in my eyes, but there aredifferent kinds of mud. Getting someone from outside your blood killed is onething. Allowing your blood to die out of fear for your own skin? Shameful.Unforgivable.

Maybe this whole thing is foolish. Maybe all we’ll do is humiliatethis girl and breed hatred into anotherLambretti.

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