Page 45 of The Mafia's Captive

“I thought…” he looks at me with that inquisitive eye of his. As if I said or did something unexpected, “I thought you would be bored and wanted to go out.” That was before he came. Now I don’t feel like it. “Can we stay in? You’ve drained me of all the energy I previously had.”

He smiles. “It’s not as if you haven’t drained mine as well.”

My cheeks heat up. I return my gaze to my food and cut a slice of the meat. It tastes so good; I have to bite my lip so I won’t moan. It doesn’t take much for me to devour the plate, followed by a sumptuous dessert that I eat with as much vigor.

After we finish our dinner, Dante and I take another shower. This one is less erotic than the last one but no less sensual. We settle into our robes; he didn’t want to wear clothes and sit on a bench on the balcony with a bottle of wine. The wine makes me more talkative than usual and I find myself telling him things I rarely tell people. At one point, he asks how I came to the city and the industry.

“I was looking for something that would pay the bills that weren’t in the sex industry or the food industry.”

“And you thought you’d try the gambling industry?”

I shrug. “What about you? What brought you here?”

“Family business.”

I laugh. “I shouldn’t have asked that.”

He looks down. “My father wanted me to be a lawyer. I hate law. I went to one pre-law class and changed my major. He didn’t know I didn’t plan to go to law school until graduation when he found out I got a degree in business and finance and not in poli-science, like he thought.”

“On graduation day?”

“Yep. I mean, part of that is his fault for not constantly checking on what I was doing with my life, which, frankly, I’m happy with. He even tried to enroll me at Harvard Law School. He got a place for me there, but by then I was already embroiled in the business.”

“I don’t know. I find it surprising that the head of a mafia family didn’t want his first-born son to head it too, at some point.”

“I think he wanted Gio, my brother, to take over. He thought I didn’t have what it takes.”

“The second oldest?”

He nods. “Which is kind of funny,” he chuckles, “because Gio isn’t as committed to it as I am.”

“What about your mother? What did she think about your father’s meddling?”

I feel him tighten. He goes silent and I think he will not say anything more, but then he says, “She died when I was young.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.” His tone goes from casual to wooden and matter of fact. It's a cue to not inquire further, and I don’t.

“Well, whatever he thought, he was wrong.” I find the idea of someone thinking Dante wouldn’t be able to head a criminal enterprise laughable. To me, he’s the definition of the Mafia.

“And you know this how?”

“The way you do your things. You seem very dedicated to whatever it is you do.”

He looks up at me with a glint in his eyes. “Do I?”

“I tell it like I see it.”

He smiles. “My sister would have liked you.”

“You have a sister?”

“Had.” His mood darkens. “She died when she was just a teenager.”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. Was she sick?”

He shakes his head. “Saccone…” he trails off and glances away from me. Did Saccone do something to her? Is that why Saccone was his enemy? When he faces me again, the mood has shifted. “Let’s talk about something else.” His hand slides up inside my robe and lands on my thigh. He caresses my thigh lazily, almost as if he’s unaware that he’s doing it. I lay my head on his shoulder as we watch the stars and listen to the distant buzz of the city. It feels so natural and comfortable. I want the moment to go on forever.

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