Page 19 of Capone
Her lips were so fuckin’ soft and full. Our lips were like magnets as they moved in sync. Hearing her sweet moans damn near had my cock bursting through my jeans. Never had my body reacted to a woman like that. I felt damn near possessed. All I wanted to do was rip her clothes from her body and take her right there in her closet.
I knew it was going to take her some time to come to grasps about what was happening between us and I was fine with that. As long as she didn’t think I would really let her walk away from me. I was blowing smoke up her ass when I told her if she told me she didn’t want me that I would walk away. There wasn’t a chance in hell that I would leave her.
These feelings that I was developing for her were scary. At times I felt like I was losing my mind. I shouldn’t have felt this deeply about her this early in the game, but I was stuck. I couldn’t shake this feeling even if I wanted to. I was under some kind of spell when it came to Giovanna.
As I entered the living room, I spotted Giovanna lying across the sofa, staring off into space. She didn’t even notice me walking over until I took a seat on the other end of the couch and placed her feet in my lap. She slightly jumped before giving me a shy smile.
“What’s on your mind, Sugar?” I asked as I began to rub her feet. This woman had me doing things I never had.
Her eyes rolled in the back of her head, and she sighed happily. After a few minutes of enjoying her foot massage, she opened her eyes and stared at me. “Us.”
“So, you admit that there is an us?” I grinned.
Shyly, she bit her lip, twiddling her fingers. “I never denied being attracted to you, Capone, but the tim?—”
“Luca.”
“Huh?”
“That’s my name. When we’re alone, that’s what I want you to call me.” She gave me a sweet smile as we fell into silence. I continued to rub her feet, making her fully relax onto the sofa. “Like I told you earlier, I’m a patient man, baby. I can wait until you’re ready, but giving up isn’t an option. I want you and I won't let your fear get in the way of whatever this is happening between us.”
Giovanna swallowed and nodded her head. She looked almost ready to pass out. She grabbed a blanket from the back of the sofa and covered her body with it.
“Tell me something else about Gabi.”
Giovanna watched me intently for a moment before she said anything. “She likes to paint.”
“Really? Is that another hobby passed down from Mommy?”
She giggled and shook her head no. “Not at all. I can barely draw a stick figure. It started off with coloring, then one day, I decided to get her some paint since she loved to color so much. The way she lit up while she was painting, I knew right then a monster had been created. Whenever she isn’t in the kitchen baking with me, she’s in her playroom painting.”
I could hear the joy in her voice as she talked about her daughter. I was happy to see her in a better mood. Most of the time Giovanna’s eyes held nothing but sadness. I understood why but it didn’t mean I liked seeing it.
“Can I see some of her paintings?”
Giovanna pulled out her phone. After a few taps, she handed it over to me. I flipped through the photo album, completely stunned at was I was seeing. This wasn’t at all what I expected from a three-year-old.
Her pictures were obviously things she liked. There was a painting of a flower, a sunset, the beach, a butterfly, and the list went on. Although it was clear a child had painted these, nobody would ever guess it was a toddler. This was something I would expect from a child much older than Gabi.
“Gabrielle did these?” I asked Giovanna with wide eyes.
Giovanna threw her head back with a laugh. “Yup. I know it's hard to believe. I was equally shocked. As time went on, she got better and better. To this day, each painting makes my jaw hit the floor.”
“Baby Girl is going to be the next Picasso. Mark my words.”
“That’s what my mom says all the time.”
The mention of her mother reminded me of something I had been wanting to ask her. “At the clubhouse you said Gabrielle didn’t know your father. Why is that?”
I could be putting my foot in my mouth asking her this. For all I knew, her father could be deceased, but it was the tone inher voice when she said it. There was a bit of hostility there. I noticed the hesitation on Giovanna’s face. “You don’t have to tell if you don’t want to.”
She scratched the side of her head and took a deep breath. “My father and I don’t get along.”
“Because?” I pressed.
“When I turned twenty-one, he came to me with an arranged marriage he had set up with one of his business partners. When I refused, he disowned me. Kicked me out on the streets with nothing but the clothes on my back. I ended up crashing with a friend until I got on my feet. My father might have turned his back on me, but my mother didn’t. She wanted to leave him a few times, but my father is all she knows. Eventually, I met Derek. My father would continuously voice his disdain for Derek. He didn’t like that I was dating a Black man. Once I got pregnant with Gabi, he told me that I would be muddying my bloodline if I went through with my pregnancy. That was the last time I ever spoke to him.”
I sat there in stunned silence as she told me her story. It’s not surprising at all to hear her father was upset that she was dating a Black man. Hell, even the arranged marriage wasn’t a surprise. Some Italians had a traditional way of thinking when it came to dating outside your own kind. Hell, even Paul told us how a few of his family members cut him off when he got with Crystal, his wife. Of course, they tried to have a change of heart when he became wealthy but by then the damage was done.
