Her Mafia Daddy (Book 1) novel Chapter 23

Rafael pov

Nursing a glass of ciró, I kept a close eye on the clock as I waited. Work had distracted me for the rest of the evening, but it was late and a feeling of dread settled in my stomach. Dimitri and Valentina should have returned by now.

Was I wrong? Did he feel a romantic attachment to her? I had to tread carefully. My instinct told me Dimitri didn’t think of Valentina in that manner, but there was a slim chance I had misjudged the situation.

I snorted as I stared out at the dark vineyards. I haven’t misjudged a situation since I was fourteen, which is how I’ve stayed alive so long.

No, everything told me the two of them were not attracted to each other and that she was attracted to me. I’d soon find out. Just as I was about to go shower, I heard Dimitri ’s Ferrari pull into the drive.

Anticipation churned in my gut. I couldn’t see them from my windows, but I could hear the sound of their laughter on their way inside, then the front door slammed.

Dimitri came to me immediately. He was a good son and I was damn proud of him. He followed directions and stuck to his word. He’s never let me down, except for the other night. I hoped he learned his lesson. The brotherhood had to come first, always.

He dropped into a chair across from my desk, so I took my seat as well. “Have a nice time?”

His lips twitched. “You’re going to ask, so just ask, Papà.”

He was a smart boy, my son. “Before I do, I want to make sure you aren’t attached to her. That you won’t harbour resentment.”

“No resentment. No attachment. I was marrying her because you ordered it.”

“You don’t want her.” It seemed unfathomable to me, but I had to press. I had to be sure. He shrugged, as if it made no difference to him. “I would have married her, but I don’t have those kinds of feelings toward her.”

It was as I had suspected. “Good. I’ll find you another wife. An Italian woman who won’t give you any trouble. One who knows this life.”

“Whatever you say, Papà. Are we done? I have to run out for a little bit.” This had seemed too easy. “You won’t mind if I take her as my mantenuta?”

One side of his mouth kicked up. “No, I won’t mind but I don’t think she will agree.”

“We’ll see.”

“She’s very stubborn and still eager to escape. I don’t think she’ll come willingly.”

“I am aware of all this and again, we shall see.” My son stood and thrust his hands into his pockets. He seemed to be contemplating his next words.

“Allora…just don’t hurt her, Papà. She’s a good person, with a good heart. She’s in a country where she hardly speaks the language and is basically a prisoner here. Have patience with her.”

Part of me wanted to lash out at him. I'd never hurt a woman in my life but I understood. My son had a good heart, as well. When he was six, he rescued a baby bird and kept it alive until the creature had been healed enough to fly away.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” He disappeared out the door. Now that I was alone, anticipation flooded my veins like the rush of a drug. As much as I wanted to wait, I couldn’t. I needed to see her. Now.

Declining my wine, I carefully placed the glass on the desk and left my office. The house was quiet as I made my way into the wing opposite my own. What would I find when I entered Valentina ’s room?

Was she showering? Relaxing in the bath? My cock twitched at the fantasy of seeing her wet and soapy golden skin, touching those soft and supple curves.

I didn’t bother knocking. She would tell me to go away, and I would not be deterred from seeing her. Throwing open the door, I stopped short. Valentina sat on the bed with her arms crossed, glaring at me.

Oh, yes. I liked her spirit very much. She would not be easy to win, but the victory would be sweet in the end. “Waiting on me already?”

“What are you doing here, Ravazzani? This is my room and you cannot just walk in whenever you feel like it.” I closed the door behind me. “Oh, but I can, actually. This is my house. I don’t need your permission to come in here.”

She stood up, her body covered by the wrap she’d worn on the boat. Madonna, that meant the bikini was still on underneath. I approached her, but she didn’t back away this time. Instead, she bit her lip. “Say whatever it is you came in to say and then leave.”

“Always playing tough, but I am not fooled.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you don’t really want to escape. Your effort to leave was half-assed at best. Instead you spend your time with the lambs and Vincenzo, not searching the grounds for a wall to climb over. You could have stolen one of the cars. Or jumped off the boat today and swam to shore. You are resourceful and smart, Valentina . If you want something bad enough, you make it happen.”