God Of Vengeance (Kings Of Mafia)

I run straight to my room, and once I shut the door behind me, I suck in desperate breaths of air.

Holy crap, that was intense.

I press a hand to my stomach where it feels like a kaleidoscope of butterflies is out of control and fluttering like crazy.

I can still feel the powerful tingles from when I unintentionally rubbed myself against Damiano’s bulge. My body just reacted to feeling him between my legs, and I pressed down on him.

Worry trickles into my heart.

No, Damiano said I did nothing wrong.

He wanted me to leave before he lost control.RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

Is that good or bad?

I lift my other hand to my face, my fingers brushing over my swollen lips.

He tasted like whiskey, wild and burning with passion as he claimed me.

Dio. He’s too much man for me.

My thoughts return to the conversation we had before he kissed me, and my eyes lower to the ring on my finger.

It’s a bit big but gorgeous, the design vintage, and the diamond large.

Damiano thinks I’m strong, and that’s why he’s chosen me to be his wife.

I lift my chin, and my gaze falls on the dark view beyond my balcony. I walk to the door, and opening it, I step out of the room. I place my hands on the railing and stare at the backyard that’s lit up with garden lights.

This mansion is now my home.

I’m engaged to Damiano Falco.

No one will be able to touch me ever again.

Only Damiano.

A gust of icy wind slams into me, forcing me back into my bedroom.

Walking to my dressing table, I sit down, and as I touch up my makeup, my eyes lock with my reflection.

No more cowering around Damiano, no matter how much he scares you. He’s going to be your husband. Show him how strong you are and that he made the right decision to keep you.

He has a lot resting on his shoulders, so be the perfect partner and make life easier for him.

When I’m satisfied with my appearance, I leave my bedroom and head downstairs. With my head held high and a smile playing around my mouth, I walk into the sitting room.

Mrs. Accardi’s eyes dart to my face, then drops to my left hand. “She’s wearing the ring!” she exclaims as she shoots to her feet.

“Congratulations, cara.” I’m yanked into a hug and kissed on both cheeks before Mrs. Accardi takes my left hand. “It suits you.”

When Mrs. Falco gets up from her armchair, I pull away from Mrs. Accardi and walk closer to my future mother-in-law.

“Damiano said the ring belonged to you,” I say, respect tightening my voice.

“My mother gave it to me when I got engaged. It’s of great sentimental value to me. She passed away before the wedding day.”

“Thank you for passing it down to me. I feel so honored.”

Her mouth curves with an emotional smile, and she reaches out to me.

I move closer and when our hands touch, she pulls me into a hug.

“Be good to my son,” she whispers against my cheek.

“I’ll do everything in my power to be a wife deserving of such a great man, Mrs. Falco.”

She kisses my cheek, then says, “Call me Aida. After all, we’re family now.”

An overwhelming sense of gratefulness fills my chest, and I have to fight the urge not to cry.

“Can I call you Aunt Aida?” I ask before explaining, “Just using your first name feels a little disrespectful.”

“Aunt Aida is perfectly fine, my sweet child.”

“Oh, you’re here. I’ll go get Carlo,” Mrs. Accardi says. “We need champagne to celebrate this wonderful occasion.”

When I pull away from Aunt Aida, I glance over my shoulder and see Damiano watching us.

He comes closer, his eyes flicking between his mother and me. “Did I interrupt an emotional moment?”

I quickly shake my head.

“I’m happy to hear about the engagement,” Aunt Aida says. “I wish you both a lifetime of love and happiness.”

“Thank you,” I murmur.

Damiano comes to press a kiss to his mother’s temple, then says, “Thank you, Mamma.”

She lets out a chuckle. “You won’t kick me out of the mansion now that you’re going to become Mrs. Falco?”

Caro Dio!

“No, never!” I exclaim, and grabbing her hand, I say, “Never think anything like that. This is your home.”

“She’s joking,” Damiano mutters, then he surprises the hell out of me by playfully chastising Aunt Aida, “Don’t give my fiancée a heart attack before we have an heir.”

Aunt Aida smiles at Damiano. “Oh? When can I expect my first grandchild?”

“Babies don’t fall out of thin air, Mamma,” Damiano says, the playfulness gone from his tone.

All the talk of babies has my cheeks growing warm, but thankfully, Mrs. Accardi comes rushing back into the room.

Martha also comes in, carrying a tray of glasses and a bottle of champagne.

When Carlo joins us, he grabs the bottle, and while he opens it, he says, “Congratulations on the engagement.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, still feeling overwhelmed.

The cork pops, and he pours the bubbly liquid into the glasses. When we each have one, Damiano moves to stand between Aunt Aida and me.

He holds up the flute, then mutters, “I hate giving toasts.”

“We know, but do it for me,” Aunt Aida says.

Glancing down at me, his eyes lock with mine. “Here’s to finding a woman who’s stubborn enough to make eye contact with me and brave enough to not back down.”

Not taking his eyes off me, he takes a sip of the champagne, and I do the same.

I’m not surprised when he places the glass back on the tray and says, “I have work to take care of.”

“No rest for the wicked,” Aunt Aida mutters playfully, but I notice the worry on her face.

After Damiano and Carlo leave the sitting room, Aunt Aida sits down again.

I don’t want to drink more so late at night, and I place the champagne on the tray.

Seeing as Aunt Aida and Mrs. Accardi are still enjoying their drinks, I take a seat, then ask, “Can you tell me how Damiano likes things?”

“What kind of things?” Aunt Aida asks.

“Ah … his coffee? Food? His routine when he’s home?”

“He drinks his coffee black and bitter. He’s never liked anything sweet,” she mentions, and I make a mental note of it.

“He eats anything, but his favorite is a home-cooked meal.”

“Okay,” I murmur to show I’m listening.

“He doesn’t have a routine. Being unpredictable is a safety precaution. Whenever we leave the mansion, we do the same. We never go out at a specific time and always switch things up.”

“Okay.”

“Damiano said we can go shopping,” she mentions much to my surprise.

“Yes, he told me to get warmer clothes.”

“I’ll arrange with the guards for an outing on Monday. When we go out, you do exactly as the guards say. Be cautious, and always be aware of your surroundings.”

“Okay,” I say, soaking the information up like a dry sponge.

“You’ll have to be my eyes when we’re out in public. Always be on high alert. If we’re attacked, don’t let go of me and stay with Gerardo. If we’re separated from the guards, we must find a safe place to hide.”

“Okay.”

Dio, it’s starting to sink in that I’ll have to take the same precautions as Damiano. I’ll be just as at risk as he is, if not more.

I’m a member of the Falco family now.