Page 69 of The Mafia's Captive

“You should see your face.”

He frowns.

“You love this place. It’s infectious.”

“That obvious, huh?”

“How come you’ve never told me about this before?”

“I tend to keep the things I love close to my heart, or so I’ve been told.”

My breath catches in my throat. His stare is hot and magnetic, making it hard for me to look away. There’s something in those words too that dares me to hope. “We should eat,” I blurt out.

He chuckles and picks up his fork and knife. I follow his lead. The plate is acrostini toscanias the chef called it. The first bite takes me to heaven. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so delicious as this. My eyes shutter as the flavors burst in my mouth as I chew and I must have moaned out loud because I hear Dante say, “Great, isn’t it?”

I open my eyes; heat rises to my cheeks. “It’s really good.”

“You’re going to love the ravioli. The chef here uses a different kind of pasta that makes it that much perfect.”

Dante is right. The entrée is just as full of flavor as the starter. When I finish my plate, faster than I thought I would, he encourages me to get the dessert, which is thecastagnaccioand gelato, a town dish. “It’s made from chestnut flour,” he tells me as I cut into the cake. “The same one your factory will make?” He nods as I bite into the cake. Thecastagnacciois amazing. The gelato is just a cherry on top. “I might just move into this restaurant and stay here forever.” Dante laughs and so does the chef, who I hadn’t noticed standing behind me. “You can stay! We can find space for a beautiful woman such as you!” the chef says, his voice filled with mirth.

“Careful now, Flavio.”

“Eh,” he shrugs, hands in the air, “I see a beautiful woman who likes my food. I take. Whether she’s your girlfriend or not, fair is fair.”

My cheeks redden even more even after Flavio is gone. After I’m done eating the dessert, we order coffee as Dante and I talk about our lives. He’s more inquisitive than I’ve ever known him to be, and he seems genuinely interested in every topic I raise from my time with my mother to the other times I spent working in other casinos as a dealer.

After we’re done drinking coffee, we leave the restaurant. The moon is bright out and the small streets are lit in a low glow that is undeniably romantic. I don’t know when or how it happens, but as we walk down the street, we end up on what feels like a leisurely stroll. “I never knew you were that experienced,” he says after I finished telling him all about the politics at the casino tables.

“Are you not bored? Most people usually glaze over when I talk about my work.”

“Well, I am a casino owner so I guess I understand where you’re coming from. You seem to enjoy it.”

I shrug. “It’s work. It pays. I don’t think about it more than that and maybe that’s why I like it. I doubt I would have such a rosy outlook if I wasn’t working at your casino, though. The other places I worked for were shit.”

“You don’t have any other interests.”

“I do. I hope to be a trophy wife one day.”

Dante looks a little surprised until he sees my smile. He chuckles. His hand feels warm in mine. When did that happen? We come to a stop and I realize that we’ve reached the car. We must have taken the longer route. He swings me around until I’m facing him and takes me into his arms. His head drops, my heart thumps faster as I anticipate his lips coming to touch mine, but just when he’s mere inches away from my lips, he says, “You have to be the one.”

“What do you mean?”

“The one to kiss me first.”

His eyes are burning with desire, which I’m sure is reflected in my own. Warm wind blows and he pulls me closer to him. I feel his hardening length. He wants me, that much is obvious, but is that all he wants? “Does it matter?” My voice is barely a whisper. Anyone with a brain cell can tell I want him. He searches my gaze for what I don’t know, then groans and lets his head drop down to my shoulder, “I don’t want to push you. I want to know that you want me for real.” He lifts his head, steps back and holds me at shoulders length. “When we finally get together, I don’t want you to deny it.”

We get into the car and drive back to the villa in potent silence. His words are on my mind even when we reach the house and even as I sleep.

♠

I don’t know what I expected, but the factory is an old building with brand new equipment. Courtesy of Dante, the factory manager proudly tells me in broken English. He’s taking us through a tour of the place and showing us all the new machines as well as the production process. He’s speaking mostly in Italian, while Dante interprets everything he says. At the end of the tour, he brings us the flagship products. The chestnut flour and butter as well as freshly made chestnut cookies.

“Thank you for letting me come,” I say as we head out of the factory. “The people here. They seem very grateful for you coming to save them.”

“They did all the hard work. I just gave them the money.”

“They don’t see it that way at all,” I say, thinking of one of the factory workers I was talking to who was in awe of Dante. “You’re their savior.”

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