Page 76 of Beauty and the Mafia Boss

In dreams, however, it never goes away. In dreams, that semblance of a kiss, that ridiculous touch of his lips against the skin at the corner of my mouth turns into something much bigger and more intense that doesn't let me forget, not even for a second while I'm awake, what happened while I was sleeping.

***

“I want to start exercising,” I say to Rafaella, and she looks up from the clipboard in her hands.

My friend looks at me, then at the swimsuit closet where she was counting clean clothes, then again at her clipboard.

“What?” She asks, contorting her face in confusion before cursing me for making her lose count.

“Exercises. I want to exercise,” I repeat. “I've only been eating, reading and sleeping. I need to get my body moving,” Ilie, and Rafaella's single eyebrow rises, telling me that she knows very well what my true reasons are.

“I know exactly what kind of movements you want to make,” she teases before exhaling through her teeth in a laugh.

“Rafaella!”

“What? Are you going to say it's not true?”

“I need exhaustion, my body is getting used to this easy life, and I haven't been able to sleep well.” Rafaella opens her mouth, but then closes it. Then, she looks from side to side and when she is sure that we are really alone in the hallway, she speaks.

“You know there are other solutions besides a cold shower, right?”

“It's not that!” I exclaim through my teeth, and Rafa throws her head back laughing. “I shouldn't have told you about the dreams, damn it!” My indignation isn't enough to make her stop laughing at me. I turn my back on her. Irritable as I've been, I don't need this.

“Wait!” she says loudly, practically running after me. “Fine! Fine, how can I help you?” I stop walking and turn to face her.

“Clothes, I need clothes. There's nothing in my closet that works for this.”

“Wow, who knew the Don wouldn't want to keep you in shape, huh?”

“I'm tired of you.” I walk again, abandoning her again. The idiot laughs again before following me to my room.

“Okay, okay! Knowing you, you don't want to go shopping and spend the Don's money, right? That means you need to borrow clothes. Fine. I'll bring you some tomorrow.”

“Thank you” I respond, reluctantly.

“But I was serious.” She starts, and I give her an irritated look. Rafaella completely ignores it. “Cold baths are not the only solution. You can... You know...” she leaves the insinuation in the air, and I grunt in irritation.

Like I haven't tried, but my body just refuses to accept what it has. It wants what it wants, and I suffer.

“Didn't you have a towel closet to count, Rafaella?”

CHAPTER 39

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Vittorio Cataneo

I look up in an attitude that has become common when I arrive home, looking for Gabriella in the window. The sight I encounter, however, awakens the opposite sensation to the calm that has come to grip me every time I find her there.

The shadow of a man hovers in the place where the Brazilian woman usually is at this time of day and the anger that floods my veins is too quick to cloud my judgment for it to be able to stop me. I get out of the car without waiting for confirmation that the security routine has been completed, already pulling the gun from the holster attached to my waist.

My men are startled but follow me as I throw open the main door of the mansion and startle a Luigia who stays behind with wide eyes. I cross the hallway to the stairs leading to the floors without caring about the commotion I'm leaving behind.

I enter my wing with my gun in hand and come across a Gabriella dressed in gym clothes halfway through a squat, in the middle of the visiting room. The moment her eyes notice me, all the color in her face disappears, she raises her hands with the palms facing forward, in the classic gesture of surrender, and squeezes her eyes shut.

Not letting the confusion in my head reflect on my face is a challenge the size of which only Gabriella Matos is capable ofimposing on me. I walk past her, heading toward the window I saw, and when I get there, I find a property maintenance worker repairing the seat under the window, actually replacing it.

The moment he finds himself in my sights, the man's eyes widen, he drops the tool he was holding, and it falls with a loud thud to the ground. I lower the gun, being hit hard by the realization of my own lack of control. The simple, completely irrational idea that Gabriella could be with a man made me act crazy, and I don't act like a fucking crazy person. Ever!

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