"How much do I take?" I repeat. Santo suddenly pulls me into a hug, and I'm wondering whether I'm dreaming or not. I realize I'm sitting right on his... the Madonna! He looks thrilled to see me there! If I'm dreaming... really, it would be great if I could avoid waking up too quickly. I try to sit up, leaning on his shoulders, but he holds me firmly and starts laughing. Oh, dear. The things his laughter does to my body. "Kiss me, Didi," he commands, sliding his hands just under my chest. "Wh...what?" I reply, pulling my head back. Damn, this dream sounds too real to be true. I know. What I'm saying doesn't make sense, but wow. Santo grabs my jaw with one hand, his eyes are locked on my mouth, and he's looking at me like I'm a white chocolate pana cotta with raspberry coulis. "I want you to kiss me, Didi," he says seriously. Santo straightens up to kiss me. Hey. SANTO GETS UP TO KISS ME!? I'm frozen in place. What should I do? A) let him do it. B
(Didi) "Let go of me, Vin," I say, trying to free my arm from my older brother's grip. He doesn't let go until the black doors of his armored car open. Vincenzo almost throws me inside, and I immediately find myself seated between Salvatore and Terzo. "We've found her, Don Vincenzo," declares one of our men. I hear Salvatore and Terzo stifle a laugh, then they both put an arm around my shoulders. "In the other car. I've got urgent family business to attend to," replies my eldest brother. I frown, realizing that my brothers have come to pick up a woman. Who is she? "A target," I ask. But Terzo presses his index finger against my temple. "Stai zitto (shut up*), Didi," he orders me. I cross my arms over my chest and just stare into the central rearview mirror so I can observe the expression on Vincenzo's face. But that's a waste of time. The Bonanis aren't known for being very expressive. Salvatore's furious gaze doesn't escape me, and I end up looking
I look at him and start yawning without even putting my hand in front of my mouth. I start laughing the moment he grabs a handful of my hair. I take advantage of this and immediately pull his ponytail in the opposite direction. We look perfectly stupid with our heads tilted to one side, challenging each other with our eyes. "Let go," Salvatore articulates slowly. "Only if you let go first, Sali," I reply, also gritting my teeth. "Stop being childish," Vincenzo orders with a sigh. Salvatore and I let go at the same time, raising our hands. Then he finally comes out, shaking my hair to annoy me. "I want cannoli for breakfast tomorrow," Salvatore declares. "You can stick them wherever I think," I reply, giving him a masterful middle finger under the disapproving gaze of my eldest brother. I hear Salvatore laugh and can't help smiling back. Of course, I'll give him all the cannoli in the universe. Cazzo. He's a bastard, but I love him. Ha! I'll put thos
Santo : I finally arrive at Villa Ganovese. Eduardo, our old butler, rushes up to me and grabs my leather jacket as I furiously throw it towards the coat rack. Cazzo. I've got to break something. I've got to... I grab the coat rack and rip it from the wall where it was hung last month. Eduardo looks at me, annoyed, but withdraws without saying anything. Besides, this isn't my first crisis. So he knows it's never a good idea to stand too close to me when this happens. Cazzo. Cazzo. Cazzo. I've got to calm down. I nervously run my hands through my hair as I head straight for the kitchen. I take a moment to glance at the large clock, a veritable jewel of goldsmith's art, steel, and craftsmanship, hanging on the wall. I don't know how Lulu managed to find something like this. Only the hands are visible, and there's nothing to indicate the presence of a plug or motor. Cazzo! It's not yet time for me to eat when I'm in Vill
Cazzo. Of course, Elio knows! But who told him? Which of our men hastened to tell him... and if. What if Elio goes after Didi? What if Elio drags her down here and forces her to be with me? I'm such an idiot. Elio would never do that. My brother's far too cautious. It's not like him to act this way. The proof is that he still hasn't gone looking for Lucia. "There is no girl. Everything you've been told is bullshit," I reply at last. Elio wobbles, and I can see that he's struggling to stay on his feet before me. The dampness of the air over the last few days must be reawakening the pain in his leg. However, he's still coming closer to me, and I can smell the rancid odor of alcohol on his breath. I nervously start banging my knees. "The famous prostitute everyone's talking about?" asks Elio. His expression is icy. There's been no humanity left in my older brother for almost three years now. Elio loses his balance, and I rush forward to pick him up. He reeks of alcohol and tob
I stood kneeling on the thick red carpet, clenching my fists firmly on my upper thighs, trying to reduce the shaking of my body. I know this office by heart. I'm even the one who chose the colors and the carpet I'm standing on today. I selected every decorative element and every supply. However, the man sitting comfortably on the black leather chair in the office is not the one for whom I made the decoration. He takes a puff on his cigar and leans forward toward my face. Thus, I am forced to close my eyes so they are not burned by the smoke he has spit in my face. He remains silent and takes another sip of brandy, rattling the single ice cube shaped with an ice pick in his crystal glass out of habit. "Santo..." I start to say, but I fall silent as soon as I meet his dark eyes. How ironic to have given him such a name. He's the worst of them all, and he's named Saint. He is dressed in the three-piece suit typical of the men of the Family. Like them,
I wake up with difficulty. I haven't slept so well for so long. I don't know how long ago it was. I feel so good that a smile immediately appears on my lips. I know he is there, next to me. I turn around to snuggle up to him and breathe in his scent. I can feel his muscles on the fingers of my skin. However, he doesn't know how to act and remains perfectly still. Elio. My Elio is here. I let my fingers slip between the curly hairs of his chest while I put a leg around his waist. I know this is wrong. My body only acts on instinct. As far as I can remember, I have always loved Elio. That's why the picture of the man putting his lips on mine is nothing but a mistake. I could never be intimate with another man. Not because the opportunities never presented themselves but because none can make my heart beat the way Elio does. I have to leave. I can't help but sig
I suddenly turn around and can't stop smiling. I leap forward and take Matteo, Elio and Santo's third brother, in my arms. The resemblance between the three brothers is undeniable. They are all tall, dark, and typically Mediterranean. The three brothers have inherited eyes of a blue so dark that they seem almost black depending on the light. In addition, they all exude natural charisma on different scales. As the eldest, Elio inspires authority. Santo, the second brother, provokes fear with his mere presence. Finally, Matteo, the last one, is a born seducer. He is ten years younger than them and still breathes the carefree joy of life. Out of habit, he puts an arm around my shoulders and guides me down the stairs. Then he dramatically shakes my cell phone in front of my eyes and gently reprimands me. "Lulu, don't walk down the stairs looking at your screen!" I give him a beaming smile and take my phone back. It was a remark I