ROMAN'S P. O. VShe fell asleep on the drive home.We were in the car when her head tipped to the side, resting on my shoulder. Her breathing was soft, those long lashes fluttered sleepy, and I stroked her cheeks till she evened out.Riccardo drove us back to my penthouse, Fabiano took his drunk wife home. The moment I spotted them, with Callie in this sorry excuse of a dress that showed more than it covered, I knew it was all Isabella's idea.I couldn't for the life of me understand what I was feeling. What this dull ache in my chest is that makes me want to pull her closer, eat up her warmth, her scent, her smiles, and soft murmurs Tonight, the world seemed different, like it was all softness and calm. A tap on the car window pulled me out of my rare peace. Riccardo opened the car door, and I carried Callie up to the penthouse myself.I shrugged out of my coat and draped it over her body, then I pulled her into my arms. She was asleep, but she looped her arms loosely around my nec
CALISTA'S P. O. VWarm sunlight touched my skin like a tease. My body was still heavy from how spent I was last night, but the ache felt good, one I hadn't experienced in…forever. I stretched my stiff limbs, slow and lazy, cracking one eye open before shutting it.I wasn’t in the guest room. My eyes fluttered open, I brought my hand to my face to shield the lines of sunlight seeping in through the curtains.I blinked at the ceiling, my mind slowly registering the bustle of New York life outside the windows and the feel of silk sheets against my skin. Dark amber musk and leather clung to the pillow beside me.His scent, His bed.I bolted upright, my heart rattling in my rib cage. I recalled some flashes from last night. Dancing, music, the way he held me, the look in his eyes, my memory fogged. I couldn't remember what happened after that.I raised the comforter from my body to find that I was still in my dress from last night. It was wrinkled but still intact. I let out a sigh of r
CALISTA. I bet you have never had whiskey, rum, vodka, and a little bit of tequila...was that tequila? I don't know. But I'm guessing you have never had it all in one shot, all of them mixed together. Well, I can tell you that it is not funny, not by a long shot- pun intended. It took the bartender twenty minutes to give me my drink. Even after he did, he looked at me like I was crazy; I bet he thought I was. Who could blame the poor guy? Sane people don't walk into a bar in the early hours of the morning only to order a mix of liquors that could be the death of them. And with my hair haggard like a raccoon house, the dark circle under my puffy eyes, and the way my words were slurred, I looked like a homeless addict. Wouldn't that be nice? I'd rather be homeless than live in the mansion I had grown up in. I would rather be acknowledged as a crackhead than the princess I've been called all my life. Maybe then, I wouldn't have had to experience walking in on my husband-to-be, fuc
CALISTA. The reaction I expected never came. Normally, the second I mentioned my name, any person tied to the Cappellucci familia should have gagged me, bound me, and thrown me into the boot of their car. This man only stared at me with unreadable eyes. Beautiful eyes though.God, I'm drunk.“You are Calista?” He finally spoke.“Yes, I am,” I answered calmly. Why aren't you trying to tie me up and offer me to your Capo? I thought inwardly. “Let's have a seat.” He said as he pulled out a chair for me. I stood still, transfixed. “Did you hear what I just said?” I couldn't help but ask. His lips twitched at the corners and I had to draw my head back in surprise. “Yes. I did. You're Calista Vitela and you're in my bar. Now sit.” It was the sheer command in his tone that had been planting my ass down, but I didn't shut up. Maybe it was my nervousness, or maybe it was in alcohol in my system.“Do you know you can get killed by the Cappellucci Familia for letting a Vitale into your b
CALISTA“Are you certain about this Roman? I've known you since you were a little boy. Such.. err.. sudden decision is not in your nature at all.”Roman's resolute voice echoed in the near-empty cathedral, “Yes, Father.”“And you child? Are you certain of this?” The priest questioned me. “Yes, Father,” I replied, my throat thick with nostalgia.It was strange to be in the presence of a priest again. I was born into the Catholic church, and my family, like many other mafia families, were strong followers of the Catholic faith; growing up, I had a profound love for the church; the grace with nuns carried themselves, the early morning refreshing mass, and our daily prayers. My fondness became too much, and one day, over dinner, I blurted out how I aspired to be a nun. My mother's mouth was opened in shock and my father turned beet red with rage. As the daughter and only child of a capo, I had duties to fulfill, duties that could not be understood by a five year old childAfter that day
CALISTATrepidation made my insides churn as Romans drove us in his Lamborghini back to Evanston, followed by some of his men. I didn't know what his plan was, but my gut told me it was no good. I glanced at the man beside me. Romano. It felt surreal to think that he was my husband when I knew nothing but his infamous reputation and his name. A strange feeling tightened my chest, but I reminded myself that this was the only way for me to escape Matteo. After shooting him, he would have made my life hell. I couldn't run away. I had tried it before, but I was found, and the days that followed after I ran were a living nightmare. I took a deep breath to calm my nervousness. It was almost noon, Matteo would be going half mad trying to find me, and me and my stepmother would be happy with me being away. I knew they couldn't hurt me now that I was Mrs Cappellucci; there were laws guiding the mafia, and our Cost Nostra was a thing to be honored, but I was scared regardless. However, the
ROMAN'S P.O.V.I have met a fair share of women in my life. At the age of thirty-three, I was already weary of them. They all wanted the same thing, love, affection, and all that romantic büllshīt, but that could never be me. I'm a practical man, which was why I took my shot when I saw an opening.Calista Vitale.My breath swooshed out my lungs when I saw her walk into my bar in the early hours of this morning, looking every bit of the Angel she is. Tall with tanned skin, silky mahogany hair that cascaded over her shoulders and stunning blue gray eyes that gleamed of innocence. The kind I was supposed to keep my tainted hands from.I watched her for over an hour, I could tell something was off with the way she drowned the alcohol, not to mention the odd combo. It wasn't my nature to pry into the lives of strangers, no matter how breathtakingly beautiful they were. I was Romano Cappellucci, the aloof businessman or mafia boss, whichever you will. My initial reaction would have been t
CALISTA'S P.O.VIn one day, I made two most reckless decisions of my life. First, marrying a man whom I barely know, then agree to not touch said man for a month. That couldn't be difficult, considering he has an ego the size of Jupiter. I would rather eat grass than eat my words. If anything happens between me and Roman, he'd be the one who made the move first. My pride was at stake here. “Callie.” Roman offered his outstretched hand to me. “We're home.”I stared in wonder at the massive villa in front of us, regal golden iron gates and ivy climbing along the walls, its rich cream paint was a stark contrast to the gray manor I had grown up in. “Home” I repeated in a whisper. The words seemed foreign to me.Roman placed a hand on the small of my back. I shivered involuntarily and resisted the urge to lean into his touch. “Yes, Callie. Home ” There was a touch of wistfulness to his voice, I didn't know why but we just stood there, basking in the comfortable silence, even after his
CALISTA'S P. O. VWarm sunlight touched my skin like a tease. My body was still heavy from how spent I was last night, but the ache felt good, one I hadn't experienced in…forever. I stretched my stiff limbs, slow and lazy, cracking one eye open before shutting it.I wasn’t in the guest room. My eyes fluttered open, I brought my hand to my face to shield the lines of sunlight seeping in through the curtains.I blinked at the ceiling, my mind slowly registering the bustle of New York life outside the windows and the feel of silk sheets against my skin. Dark amber musk and leather clung to the pillow beside me.His scent, His bed.I bolted upright, my heart rattling in my rib cage. I recalled some flashes from last night. Dancing, music, the way he held me, the look in his eyes, my memory fogged. I couldn't remember what happened after that.I raised the comforter from my body to find that I was still in my dress from last night. It was wrinkled but still intact. I let out a sigh of r
ROMAN'S P. O. VShe fell asleep on the drive home.We were in the car when her head tipped to the side, resting on my shoulder. Her breathing was soft, those long lashes fluttered sleepy, and I stroked her cheeks till she evened out.Riccardo drove us back to my penthouse, Fabiano took his drunk wife home. The moment I spotted them, with Callie in this sorry excuse of a dress that showed more than it covered, I knew it was all Isabella's idea.I couldn't for the life of me understand what I was feeling. What this dull ache in my chest is that makes me want to pull her closer, eat up her warmth, her scent, her smiles, and soft murmurs Tonight, the world seemed different, like it was all softness and calm. A tap on the car window pulled me out of my rare peace. Riccardo opened the car door, and I carried Callie up to the penthouse myself.I shrugged out of my coat and draped it over her body, then I pulled her into my arms. She was asleep, but she looped her arms loosely around my nec
ROMAN'S P.O.V“This is good,” I said as Fabiano pitched his most recent nine-figure scheme.“I know it is,” he smirks while taking a long draw of his cigar. “And you know what's better? We get to buy these buildings cheap from city auctions or through political bribes.Fabiano's idea to go in on a real estate empire had intrigued me. Since we both took over as the leaders of our outfits, we shared a common vision to own more and more Legitimate business and investment, step out of the shadows without giving up powerIt took some time, but I brought down every prostitution ring Elio built. Most of the girls were trafficked or underage. I gave them payouts, resources, and options. There were a few who wanted to stay behind, so I placed them in our clubs where they were protected, paid, and respected.Since then, I've been venturing into hotels, shares investment, clubs, bars, and spas across Illinois, and now, we're stepping into real estate.Because if there's one thing a billionaire l
CALISTA'S P. O. VIsabella and I sat in the lounge. From the corner of my eye, I saw Roman and her husband walk out the door. Fabiano winked at her and waved her goodbye.Roman, on the other hand, left without a word, no glance, no wave. Nothing.It was either he didn't care, or he didn't care.I tried to focus on my surroundings while pushing the ugly feeling away. Black velvet couches big enough to accommodate a 6’4, one hundred and fifty pounds of muscled man, and dark wood floors that gleamed under the galaxy like a chandelier, a view of the Manhattan beyond the windows. “Have you been to New York before?”Isabella asked, she was seated across from me, her legs crossed in practiced elegance. She gave off this sharp, feminine energy, the kind of woman who never stumbled, and most certainly wouldn't be caught in anything below fabulous. Her cashmere sweater and Christian Louboutins spoke loud enough.“No. It's my first time.” I wasn’t sure what to expect from her, but she’d been wa
ROMAN'S P.O.VIf Elio could see me right now, he'd put a bullet in my head to put me out of my misery.I'm sure my old man must be groaning in his grave, or hell, to see his son, the one he trained to be ruthless, emotionless, and unfeeling, turn soft over a woman.What is wrong with me? This whole trip was to partner with Fabiano, the leader of the New York outfit; although he did invite me and my wife, I could have left her, like I did the last time, but after that kiss yesterday, something shifted. It's her lips. No questions. They were made for seduction. After that kiss, I couldn't bear to leave her for two weeks, unattended to. Alone. And so I made a last-minute decision to convert this into a honeymoon.“Thank you, Roman,” she says again, those blue-gray eyes bright in a way that fists my chest tight. I only manage a nod. What the hell was I thinking? Offering to take her on a tour around New York City like some college boy trying to impress his girl. Fabiano is not going
CALISTA'S P.O.VWhen it's your first time leaving a state you've been trapped in all your life, you tend to be giddy. Being nearly twenty-three years old doesn't stop your excitement; in a way, it only adds to it. I pressed my face to the window like an overgrown toddler the second Roman's plane touched down.“We're headed to Manhattan now.” I hear Roman speak over the phone as the chauffeur drives, I don't pay him much attention. How could I when I'm seeing the streets of New York for the first time in my life? Busy streets, busier people. There were honks of different cars and rushing footsteps; everyone was headed somewhere; they didn't even seem to care about the next person. Voices loud, murmuring, cursing, laughing.A heartbeat of people and beautiful chaos.A dull ache pricked my chest; in another life, I could be one of these people; maybe I'd be headed for classes at NYU, or maybe I'd be waitressing in a cafe with my name misspelled on my name tag.What would it be like?“
CALISTA'S P.O.VThere are kisses and there are kisses.Roman kissed me like he was making art, like he could drink me in for eternity and not be sated, with slow, loving precision, unhurried as though he had all the time in the world. His kiss was smothering, fanning the embers of my desires, reaching the place that I had locked away and tucked deep inside of me.“God, Callie.” he groaned, tipping my chin to deepen the kiss. “You taste just like I've been dreaming of.” he pulled back, his amber eyes searching mine. I placed a hand on his chest, his muscles flexed beneath my touch “Roman.” my voice came out as a breathy whisper,“Yes”“Don’t stop.”He made a gravelly sound at the back of his throat before his lips crashed down on mine with a ferocity that stole my breath away.Roman's tongue swept over the roof of my mouth, demanding entrance. I parted my lips with a soft moan; the sound seemed to have snapped something inside of him because one moment, he was holding me softly, and
ROMAN'S P.O.VTWENTY YEARS AGO.“Come here Romano.” Papa gestured to me. He sat behind his oak desk, a permanent scowl etched on his face. I walked slowly towards him, my eyes focused and sharp. He took a long draw of his cigar, letting the smoke twirl in front of me. My eyes watered, and I felt the urge to cough, but I didn't. If I did, Papa would use his belt on me. “What is it I hear?” Elio Cappellucci asked with a deep frown.My throat bobbed, I knew where this was going, but I tried to show no sign of fear. Fear was a weakness I could not afford.“I'm sorry Papa. I will get it right next time.” The word barely left my mouth when Elio's angry hand connected with my face. I heard the thunderous sound, before feeling the impact - white hot pain.Tears gathered in the back of my eyes, but I couldn't cry; the first and only time I did, Papa beat me up; he said he was getting rid of all my tears. I believe it worked.Elio stood up from his leather seat with much force, it went flying
CALISTA'S P.O.V“This gown suits the color of your eyes.” Lilian held up an aqua-coloured dress to me. I considered it with a tired gaze. The dress was beautiful, with Its low V-cut neck and silky fabric, but that wasn't my problem. My problem was the Charity brunch Nonna insisted I attend with her. Don't get me wrong, I love charities. Its the thoughts of getting introduced to her circle that makes me apprehensive. “Okay. I'll wear it.”Lillian's mood dropped, she's been my ally since Roman left. Nonna rested most of the time. Lucas, on the other hand, was barely here, but I still saw him around the house, and he'd give me his sly smile.Roman?Either he'd forgotten he now has a wife, or he's simply doesn't care about me. Nonna and Lucas have the same excuse for his prolonged absence - Work.I know it has to do with the mafia dealings, and sometimes, they can be very demanding of the Don-Roman, but the fact that he left so suddenly and hadn't reached out even once? That hurt more