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Santo 9-2
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Infernale Santo 10-1
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
Infernale 10-2
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
Infernale Santo
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,
Infernale Elio
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
Infernale Matteo (1)
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
Infernale Matteo (2)
Merda, merda, merda. The servants rush out of the room. Santo grabs his plate and leaves the table without being asked. He even starts to laugh in his throat and gives me a stern look. "Thanks for the pancakes, Lulu." Matteo gives me a sad smile and grabs his plate in turn. "Grazie, Lulu." * * * I don't have time to realize what's happening when I find myself lying down with my back on the table. I cry out of surprise when Elio pulls me abruptly towards him, holding me firmly by the hips. Elio stands over me and calmly loosens his tie before coming to rest his closed fists on either side of my face. I hate my body's reaction. My heart is pounding. I feel no fear. Just excitement. Only the satisfaction of having Elio's attention all to myself. I have to get out of here. Elio comes and caresses my cheek with the tip of his nose. Then he bites my ear and releases it as soon as he hears me mo
Infernale La trattoria Andrea (1)
It's been a week that I've been living like a voluntary prisoner within the luxurious walls of the villa. I spend my days arranging Henry's schedules, checking and processing the company's emails to keep the company running. It breaks my heart to admit it. But the outside world is still spinning without my presence. Elio is already awake. He had to get up early this morning to answer a phone call. I don't need to ask to know where he is. The answer is obvious: the office. So I take the time to get dressed. Elio left the office so quickly that he didn't have time to prepare the outfit he wanted me to wear today. I feel bold. It's as if the simple act of finally being able to choose my clothes gives me back the freedom I thought I had lost. I dare to be provocative. After putting on my makeup, I choose a "masculine" office outfit and put on a pair of black high-waisted palazzo pants. Then, I opt for a white lace blouse that I tuck into my pants. Sin
Infernale La trattoria Andrea (2)
Elio squeezes my waist a little tighter as soon as the door is closed. Then he puts his index finger against his lips to signal me to be quiet. Then he leans over to the multi-button handset, presses a button, and puts it on speaker to make sure I can hear the conversation. "What can I do for you, Don Elio?" I cringe as I recognize the man's voice on the other end of the line. Elio grabs one of my strands of hair and twirls it between his fingers. "My wife, Lucia, currently owns an apartment. Sell it to the highest bidder," he orders coldly before placing a kiss on my shoulder and closing his eyes. I am stunned. For the first time in my life, I don't know how Elio will react. At the other end of the receiver, I hear the keyboard keys of a computer being furiously tapped. "Ah. Yes, Don Elio. But... there's going to be a problem." Elio abruptly opens his eyes and looks at me with the indecipherable air of his family men. "What problem? I want this ap
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