MAFIA LORD LOVER

I met the devil the morning after my eighteenth birthday. Hungover and tired, I rolled in bed, where my toes grazed warm skin and coarse body hair. A friend of mine threw a graduation party at her pool last night, and my boyfriend, David, slept over. We used to stay at his apartment, but I was too drunk last night and insisted on coming here.It wasn't easy sneaking him into the house under my father's watchful cameras, but I was a pro. I'd been fooling the guards and cameras for years. The one thing the guards loved? Routine. Once you learned the routine, you could bypass it and do whatever you wanted.Dad was the head of one of the seven 'Ndrangheta families in Toronto, a criminal network that stretched from Canada to South America and Italy. My father's business was dangerous, so my two sisters and I weren't raised like normal teenagers. Wherever we went, we were followed by armed guards under their jackets, even to school.That's why I couldn't help but escape occasionally.I was

I heard David fall to the ground as I opened the door. Marco and Benito, my second cousins, got in, and we drove away, leaving David to find his own way home.I rubbed my chin and looked out the window. Clearly, Mancini had let his daughter run wild. She probably slept with a handful of men. Did I care? While we kept most of our traditions in Siderno, the old way of insisting on a bride's virginity was fading. The ritual of bloody sheets was practically archaic these days.My marriage, twenty years ago, followed all the traditions, the things that were supposed to bring good luck to a couple. However, my bride died after only five years of marriage, leaving a son behind. There was no good luck.I hadn't loved Lucia. We were both young, and the marriage was arranged as an alliance. I thought she understood her role as my wife, tolerating my long absences and the mistress I kept in the city. After all, such things were common in our world. Giulio was born after our first year of marriag

FaustI 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 slightes

FrancescaLight filtered into the room, rays of blinding sunlight that woke me from a fitful sleep. I could barely open my eyes.All night I tossed and turned, convinced that the lock on my door would mean nothing to anyone who wanted to break in. Namely, someone with bright blue eyes and a nasty disposition who enjoyed kidnapping and drugging young women. The only way I could relax was knowing Giulio slept a few doors away.I rolled onto my back and studied the plaster ceiling. If I were to find a way out of this, I couldn't stay in bed or hide in this room. I had to go out and explore, look for weaknesses. Try to come up with a plan to escape. Even if Giulio had resigned himself to this marriage, I certainly wasn't.Fortunately, the bathroom was stocked with all the toiletries I could need, mostly high-quality Italian brands that we couldn't buy in Canada. Her closet and closet were full of clothes, from yoga pants to designer dresses. Even La Perla bras and panties, although I don'

FaustI CAME to the kitchen the next morning at my usual time. My son was there with Zia, but Francesca was still absent. She was too sick from grappa to eat with us last night and was apparently still not awake.I did not like.Giulio and Francesca looked happy yesterday in the tasting room. Unable to help myself, I watched the security footage, taking in the way she smiled at him. Studying the curve of her lips as she laughed. It was clear that she liked my son, and I told myself that was a good thing. A sign of their future together, a team working towards the common goal of the Ravazzani family's future success.I kissed Zia's cheeks and made a cup of espresso. Giulio was on his phone, scrolling through some kind of video. He had left for work last night and, from the looks of it, was just getting home. - Hard night? - I asked.Out of respect, he hung up the phone and gave me his full attention. — No. I stayed at the club until around three. So we had a shipment to oversee. Everyt