Page 102 of Dirty Mafia Torment
Once was enough.
There’s no reason to explore seconds.
“Break time,” Bianca declares, and vanishes into the kitchen.
We abandon the boxes and flop around the coffee table, and minutes later, Bianca returns with three glasses of red from Aunt Teresa’s stash.
“We have to work,” Camilla grumbles, snatching her glass anyway.
Wine is exactly what I need to cleanse my palate and drive Renzo out of my brain.
We drink, talk, laugh. There’s something magic about Italian women, the way they speak with their hands, wear their hearts on their sleeves, and live each moment with unapologetic emotion. But as I grow closer to these two beautiful human beings, I recognize that on the surface, we may seem different, but beneath the accents and customs, we are made of the same things. We love fiercely. Protect what’s ours. Endure what we must. Don’t take shit.
Our friendship flows as easily as wine. It’s a gift, really.
After everything I’ve endured, after building walls so high no one could reach me, I didn’t think closeness was possible. I was forced to keep people at a distance, to present the illusion of the perfect mafia princess while I slowly was dying inside.
But here I am, laughing without hesitation, sharing without fear. Somehow, in this new environment, I’m blossoming into the woman I was always meant to be.
Problem is, I’m lying to them. And it doesn’t sit well.
The wall between my past and present has been breached. Dante and Renzo know the truth, and that’s two people too many. Dante promised I’d be under his protection, but I’ve been in that world too long not to understand that things can unravel on a dime. I can’t open up completely, not now. I won’t risk everything I’m building, the life I’m making, their friendship.
My new life deserves to be unblemished by the past.
Damn you, Renzo, for making this impossible.
I drain my drink and place the empty glass on the table.
Camilla eyes me, amused. “Wow. You tossed that back like you have something to forget.”
Currently, someone to forget.
Bianca scoots forward. “So, since Fina shared, I’ll do the same.Guess what I’m into lately? Role-playing. So far, I’ve been a maid, a pirate, and a pole dancer.”
What in God’s name have I unleashed?
“I’m considering greeting the new guy I’m dating at my apartment dressed as Little Red Riding Hood. You know, wearing nothing but a cape, heels, and a basket.” She drops her voice. “Well, hello there, you big bad wolf.”
That night out in wigs definitely wasn’t her first time.
“You think it’s too much for a second date?” she asks.
“Ummm,” Camilla hums.
But what does “too much” even mean? Who gets to decide where the line is drawn? People are complex. There’s no cookie-cutter answer, no universal measure for what’s acceptable.
Harder.
My cheeks flush. Bossing Renzo around was a rush I didn’t expect. I tapped into something bold and unapologetic, a side of myself I never knew I had. And how could I have known? I’d been one week away from losing everything, including a part of me I hadn’t even met yet. If Carlo’s dinner hadn’t included strawberries, I’d be his wife right now. Sex with a man like him wouldn’t have awakened me, it would have erased me.
But fate intervened.
God spared me and gave me another shot at living fully, despite my desires being a little twisted.
You stalked him for years. And whether you like it or not, he’s part of your new life. You basically shackled him to you. Why not…“Why not explore it?” My heart pounds. “While you’re young and eager to test limits. Why not be the Superwoman in your own bedroom?”
“You think so?” Bianca asks.
