Page 30 of The Don's Prisoner

He glared down at me as if he were contemplating killing me right then and there. Maybe he was, I wouldn’t put it past him. Mafia men were dangerous. Everyone knew that because they played by a different set of rules. But I was not afraid of Gio. Not after he had been so sweet and come to rescue me from being stranded on the side of the road. Not after I had started to get to know him. Definitely not after all the goodnight and good morning texts we had exchanged between us.

Also, it was a little hard to be afraid of a guy who let you cum on his face in public, no matter how dark and remote the area. Just saying.

“Fine. Discussion. Whatever. We need to go,” he growled and passed me to open the front door. “We are going to be late, and Nonna hates tardiness.”

“Don’t be an ass,” I shot at him as I walked past him and into the hallway. He shut the door, and I heard the lock automatically seal.

“Don’t be a fucking brat,” he retorted, and I smiled as I walked to the elevator and then to his car.

We exchanged small talk in the car, catching up on what the other one had done that day. Apparently, he had spent some time at a buddy’s factory where they made bourbon. He told me he was planning on investing in the company so they could expand, which I thought was really nice of him. When I told him so, he just shrugged and said his buddy needed the money more than him.

For a man so cocky, he was horrible at taking compliments for the nice things that he did.

When we pulled up to the very pretty castle-like house, my jaw dropped. I knew the family had money, but I didn’t realize it was castle-level money. I could feel my eyes grow wide as I stepped out of the car while Gio held the door open for me and looked up at the turrets and towers. It was like I had stepped onto the set of a princess movie or something.

“Does… You said your Nonna lives here?” I asked, not quite believing what I was seeing. I looked away from the house long enough to look over at Gio, who was nodding.

“Yes, it was very important to my grandmother that the family had a space that had enough room for everyone and could withstand an attack if need be. She likes being prepared,” he explained and I nodded, looking back up at the building.

“Well, she certainly achieved it.”

He laughed.

“You don’t even know the half of it,” he said and shut the car door. Then, he took my arm, folded it through his, and began leading me to the house.

I marveled at everything when the door opened, and an older man stood there in a tuxedo with black gloves. Behind him was an amazing-looking staircase in what had to be the entryway but looked more like a lobby. My footsteps echoed as Gio led me in, and I suddenly felt very small and very poor.

“Signora De Carlo has requested that you seat yourselves in the dining room while she finishes getting ready, Master Giovanni,” he said in a very thickly accented voice. Gio nodded to him and continued to the left where there was a doorway into an even larger room and a giant table that could seat at least thirty people.

“Master Giovanni?” I muttered to Gio as we entered the empty room. There were several places set with golden plates and cutlery, but there was nothing else on the table.

“Yeah, Abe can’t seem to just call me by my name.”

“Abe? His name is Abe?”

“Well… his name is Abbet, but I’ve always called him Abe,” He explained and led me to a seat on the left side of the table.

Even though we were the only ones there, he pulled out a chair near the end of the table on the left-hand side and helped me to sit, which was very gentlemanly of him. Then he sat down next to me on my left. There was one more place to Gio’s left, then there was a place at the head of the table. I assumed that was where his father was going to sit. There were two more places set on the other side of the table, and I wondered if I was going to be able to meet the sister he had mentioned.

Suddenly, I was a lot more nervous than I had expected I would be.

What if they didn’t like me? What if they didn’t approve? I had never had a family not like me, but there was always a first time for everything. Maybe I didn’t fit the idea of who they wanted Gio to marry. To begin with, I wasn’t Italian. To the best of my knowledge, I was English, French, and German. What if that was important for the future mother of the continuing De Carlo line?

Would Gio kill Vito if his family didn’t approve of us being together? Would he want to marry me anyway? If he did marry me anyway, would they have me murdered to get me out of the way? I wasn’t sure where the line stood with a Mafia family. Was I in more danger than I realized?

“You’re shaking. Are you cold?” Gio asked, leaning over to speak in my ear. Casually, he reached over and put a hand on my knee.

“No,” I told him honestly. “I’m nervous. What if they don’t like me, Gio? Will this whole thing fall apart?”

He squeezed my knee.

“No, darling, it’s going to be fine. They’ll love you. I promise.”

I wasn’t so sure about that.

I opened my mouth to say so, but just then three people walked in all dressed up. The man who entered in first was shorter than Gio. This became obvious when Gio stood to shake the man’s hand before he took the place on Gio’s left. He wore a black and white suit, and his hair was slicked back in a very typical 1920s gangster style. My brother would have loved his outfit, down to the gold watch on a chain that was tucked into his pocket.

On the other side of the table, two women were taking their seats. One was an older-looking woman, whom I assumed was Gio’s mom. She wore a white dress that had a straight neckline, and her hair was done up in a very beautiful updo that was held together by a white orchid clip. She looked at me, and a surprised smile appeared on her face—like she wasn’t expecting Gio to have actually brought anyone.

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