05

Faust

I heard the bedroom door open and my body went on alert. I didn't want to admit it, but I was hearing every sound of her back there. Anxious, like a schoolboy. I shook my head, disgusted with myself. Even though I wasn't too old for her, she was engaged to my son.

I needed to pull my head out of my ass.

All my men turned to watch as she picked her way to an empty seat, her breasts bouncing with each step. Long legs and shapely hips, with waves of blonde hair that flowed down her back and a face that could make angels weep. Dio, she was hot.

When I looked away, I found Marco smiling at me. Had he read me so easily? When my father died and I became capobastone ten years ago, I named my cousin my right-hand man. In fact, there was no one I trusted more. We grew together, killed together, and rose through the 'ndrina ranks together.

But that didn't mean he had the right to smile at me.

—Do you have anything to say to your capo? — I asked him.

He didn't look chastened in the slightest. — Are you going to shoot me if I say that?

— Probably when we're on the ground.

Marco raised his hands and remained silent. I went back to my phone, to the emails and notes I was reviewing. These were for the legal businesses, the ones I used as a public front for my family's wealth. My cousin, Toni, handled most of the Ravazzani corporation for me, but I remained involved. After all, I had to give answers if the Guardia di Finanza visited me.

Earlier, I texted Giulio to make sure he stayed home tonight. I wanted him to meet Francesca as soon as we arrived. The sooner the two met, the sooner she would accept the marriage. Meanwhile, Giulio could look after her well-being, acclimatize her to life in Siderno.

Even though my son was only eighteen, I needed him settled and married. The time had come for Giulio to fulfill his role as my heir, which meant producing heirs of his own. I was an only child, just like my son. Therefore, until I had grandchildren, the Ravazzani 'ndrina's future would remain in jeopardy.

This brought my thoughts back to Francesca, who was looking out the window at the night sky. Was she on the pill? I would need to inform Giulio about her ex-boyfriend and the possibility of her being pregnant by another man. Better to wait until she bleeds before the wedding.

Her gaze met mine in the window's reflection, but she didn't flinch. I liked that about her. Most women feared me, or at least my reputation. Francesca didn't seem to have this problem. In fact, she showed more spirit than most have dared in the last ten years. Would she show that same spirit in bed?

I had to stop. These thoughts were not productive and I couldn't afford to be distracted. Furthermore, even if she wasn't marrying my son, she was too young. I already had a lover, one who didn't give me any hassle, and I wasn't interested in replacing her.

Deciding to ignore Francesca, I went back to my phone. For the rest of the flight, Marco and I talked business, going over everything that needed my attention after this trip. The Crimine in San Luca was coming up in two months, where all the leaders met every year to discuss our operations. Even Toronto capos like Mancini would attend. This meant profits needed to increase, all our debts collected. We would need to pull some men from other jobs to clean up 'ndrina's books.

I rubbed the back of my neck, exhaustion pulling at me. I closed my eyes, but I couldn't relax on planes or in hotels. That was why he rarely left the castle in Siderno. At least there I was safe.

“You should sleep in the back,” Marco said. — Now that she's awake.

- We're close. I'll wait until I'm home.

- What a shame. I bet the sheets smell like her.

- Screw this.

Marco laughed. — Do you think Giulio can handle her?

I squinted one eye. — Are you saying he's soft?

— No, but he's not like you. He doesn't have them eating out of the palm of his hand. I've never seen a badder bastard get more pussy than you.

I had a temper, for sure. Giulio was calmer, like his mother. “She will change,” I said about Francesca.

The pilot announced our landing. A silent Francesca put on her seatbelt while I fastened mine. His quiet demeanor bothered me. Shouldn't she be screaming and panicking right now? Playing something on my head? Trying to master the pilot? The instinct that had kept me alive for nearly thirty-nine years screamed inside me, telling me to tiptoe around her. She was up to something.

I stifled a smile. Whatever she planned, I would be ready. She wouldn't have a chance.

Minutes later, we landed. As I walked down the steps to the floor, I made sure Francesca was right behind me with Marco hot on her heels. My car was waiting, so I grabbed her arm to pull her towards it – and felt a sharp pain in my hand.

—Cazzo! — I whistled. She stabbed me with a pen, the tip now embedded in my flesh. I snapped and ripped the thing from my skin, throwing it on the floor. That's weird .

Francesca took off running the second she had the chance, but she was no match for Marco, who still ran daily. I hadn't even finished wiping the blood off my hand before she was dragged back to my car.

- Help! — She shouted to the crew I employed at the private airstrip. - Help! I'm being kidnapped.

My men laughed. No one within a fifty-mile radius would help a person complaining about a kidnapping here. They all knew better. I opened the back door of the car. — Go inside, Francesca.

I turned to the other side, fury burning inside me, until I almost choked her. She had embarrassed me in front of my men. He drew my blood and made me look weak.

She would pay for it when we got home.

She fought with Marco, but it was in vain. Soon she was pushed in next to me and the car sped away. “I won't apologize,” she said, like a petulant child.

For once, I didn't try to appear civilized. Instead, I let her see the darkness I normally kept hidden. — Good, because I'm eager to punish you.

She swallowed hard and focused on the scene. Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at my home, Castelo di Ravazzani. I loved every bit of the property - the olive groves, vineyards, farmland and pastures - but I couldn't appreciate any of it at the moment. And that only increased my fury.

When the car stopped in front of the stone entrance, I didn't move. “Leave us,” I told Marco and my driver. The doors closed and Francesca jumped, a scared little bunny. I leaned slightly towards her. — Do you know my favorite part of owning a castle?

“No,” she said, her voice cracking.

—Not even a guess?

— The towers?

Smiling, I got out and walked around to her side. As soon as I pulled her out of the car, I leaned over. — My favorite part of this castle is the dungeon.

She choked. My patience ran out, I didn't give her a chance to run. Instead, I pulled her over my shoulder and started walking toward the back entrance that led underground.

She instantly began to struggle, her legs kicking frantically. —Put me down! Stop, please.

I ignored her and continued.

- No, please. I can't enter a dungeon. Don't take me there. Please, Signore Ravazzani.

Signore? This was new.

But I was crazy beyond rational thought. We used the dungeon for business, although I preferred not to kill people on my land. Made a lot of mess. Francesca could cook in one of the damp cells for a few hours, then she might be more receptive to my hospitality.

By the time I opened the heavy door, she was crying. Good. Maybe it would help her learn her place.

— Please, signore. I can't... you can't put me down here.

The soles of my shoes scraped the old stone as I descended. Hopelessness shook the walls, while blood and despair hung in the air - two familiar scents that never failed to please me. I had done terrible things in this place, and my son would do countless more. The legacy of the Ravazzani 'ndrina would continue here through fear and intimidation, wrath and torture.

Grabbing a set of keys from the hook beside the door, I walked to the nearest cell. The iron bars were impossible to escape, although many tried. Chains were built into the wall, but I didn't think that was necessary with her. Not yet, at least.

I pulled her to her feet. Tears streaked her cheeks and her eyes were wild as she grabbed my blazer. - Please. Don't do that. I will literally go crazy.

This generation. So fucking dramatic.

I pushed her away and took a step back, my intention clear. A capo never changed an order once it was made. We never show weakness or remorse. I would gain leverage with this woman and she would fall in line.

I left the cell and closed the heavy metal door before she could get through it. When it closed, she shook her head, panic making her shake. She grabbed the iron bars. — Please, signore. Don't do that. I will do whatever you want. I will be good.

The words made my cock twitch as I imagined her on her knees being so good for me.

Minchia! There had to be a special circle of hell for a man who had impure thoughts about his son's bride.

With a furious twist of my wrist, I locked the door with the old key. Above ground, we may have gone high-tech, but medieval worked perfectly well here. —Maybe this will teach you who holds the power in this house, piccola monella.

She shook the bars with a scream of pain and for a brief moment I reconsidered, something I almost never did.

A capo cannot show weakness.

My father had drilled this into my head for years, almost from birth. It was in our blood, in our history.

After all, the word —'ndrina — was derived from the Greek, which means — man who does not bend.

Which meant there would be no mercy, not even for her.

I turned and headed for the exit. - Enjoy your stay.