The Godfather's Bloodline

Marco Rossi's face darkened. He clearly had not expected that reaction from me.

Beneath his white dress shirt, the heavy muscles across his chest and shoulders tightened instantly.

"Lucia Romano, do you think you're worthy of invoking the Godfather?"

He reached out, trying to seize my chin and force me to look up at him.

I turned sideways and avoided him.

His hand froze midair. The shock in his eyes quickly hardened into anger, his predatory gaze sliding across my lips and down my neck.

"You filthy little puppet. You need to learn what respect means. Don't forget who broke that body of yours in."

Mia Moretti immediately wrapped herself around his arm, pressing her entire body against him. "Baby, don't be angry. Lucia definitely didn't mean it. She's just upset. She's jealous I'm carrying your child, so she dragged the Godfather into it."

Her voice was sweet and syrupy, but every word carried a sharp, poisonous barb.

Marco chuckled softly, clearly pleased with Mia's tact. He pulled her into his arms, his palm sliding down the curve of her waist before grabbing her ass without restraint.

Mia's cheeks flushed, but her body only pressed closer in submission, and yet Marco's eyes never once left me.

"You're unhappy? You think I didn't care about you these three years? A man out there risks getting shot. Some things aren't within my control.

"This time when I came back, the Godfather personally promised to put the docks under my management. I want you to obey my orders and continue being my mistress."

I shook my head and said, word by word, "I'm already pregnant. I carry the Godfather's bloodline."

The air froze instantly.

Marco's face turned a violent shade of red. The hand gripping Mia's backside tightened suddenly. She let out a muffled cry of pain but did not dare struggle.

"What did you say?" The words squeezed out between Marco's teeth. His eyes locked onto my flat stomach, as if fire might erupt from them at any moment.

The next second, his thick hand wrapped around my throat.

"You've always been a rude little tramp. But at the very least, you shouldn't throw filth onto the Godfather."

His fingers began to tighten slowly. I couldn't breathe.

"The Godfather went to Mexico to negotiate an arms deal, and you dare spin a lie like this? I need to teach you again what respect means." He sneered, looking at me sideways.

I struggled desperately. "Let… go…"

Just as I was about to suffocate, a hand suddenly clamped down around Marco's wrist.

It was Lorenzo DeAngelis, the Godfather's Consigliere. He was the family's chief legal counsel and most important subordinate.

Lorenzo looked at Marco calmly, his voice cool as he said, "Three years away and you return looking to cause trouble?"

Marco released me awkwardly.

Lorenzo glanced at his watch and gave Marco a small nod. "I'm heading to the next block to meet with a Jewish associate about business. Show Lucia some respect. Eight o'clock tonight. Come see me."

With that, Lorenzo left in a hurry.

I rubbed my neck and glared fiercely at Marco.

Before I could speak, a loud slap exploded across my face.

Marco stared at me, the flames in his eyes threatening to burn me alive. "What did you do to make the Consigliere step in for you?"

My cheek burned, but I didn't answer. I only looked at him coldly. "I will report everything exactly as it happened to the Godfather. Marco, you will pay for that slap and for what you just did."

Marco breathed heavily and straightened his tie in a twisted, almost sick way. "Lucia, get your damn head straight. The Godfather's mercy isn't meant for a tramp. Stick with me. Stop lying. Don't get clever. I can give you a life among the elite."

When he finished, Mia walked over and took my hand as if we were close friends. "Lucia, just listen to Marco. Men having a few women outside is normal."

She pushed her belly forward slightly, her smile dripping with smug triumph. "I don't mind. The two of us can take care of Marco together."

I shook her hand off. "If the Godfather says it's acceptable, then it's acceptable," I looked at Marco and repeated the words slowly.

Then I added the rest, "And I no longer need your filthy money."

"What did you say?" Marco's face twisted completely.

Like a beast out of control, he roared, "Take this filth away! Take her!"

The two soldati behind him immediately stepped forward, one on each side, grabbing my arms.

I was shoved violently into a black Chevrolet. The door slammed shut with a heavy bang. The engine roared to life, and the car shot forward like a bullet.