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CHAPTER SEVEN

RAPHAEL’S VIEW POINT

We walked a distance from their private airport to the main building, where her father was waiting. I was nervous to meet him, seeing that he was a mafia leader. The fear faded when I was reassured by Giovanna’s hand holding my bicep for comfort. It made me feel safe and loved. Even during hard times, like now, when her aunties were probing me to feel my torso and insisting that I took off my shirt. I was uncomfortable, and Giovanna was deeply irritated, but there was no stopping the drunken trio when they were determined to take advantage of someone half their ages. They giggled about invading my personal space, slurring swears under their breaths and hissing when they managed to get a feel. Stella looked gravely disappointed but watched anyway while I struggled to cook up a nice way to tell the aunties to fuck off. Thankfully, Pietro came to announce that his father was ready to see us, and took time to put the sisters in their places. He seemed to be the only o
Hillary

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