Her Mafia Daddy (Book 1) novel Chapter 8

Valentina POV

The implication was clear that Rafael Ravazzani was no stranger to cruelty. That he would gladly use a person’s weakness against them. Jesus, What a prize. Before I could comment, we entered the castle. A small room led into a kitchen, which was surprisingly modern for a place with an actual dungeon. “I’ll have Zia bring up hot tea,” Dimitri said as he continued into the house.

“That’s my aunt. She lives with us and does most of the cooking.” Calming down, I began to look around curious about this different type of prison. The contrast with the dungeon was startling. What I could see was light and airy with gleaming wood accents and light plaster walls.

Huge oval windows were framed with tasteful draperies and tile covered the floor. It was even nicer than our home in Toronto. Surprisingly, I didn’t see any security cameras. That was information I stored away for future use. “This is my wing of the house,” Dimitri said.

“My father stays on the other side.” Thank God. I had no desire to see Rafael Ravazzani ever again. Dimitri carried me past several rooms, including a study with shelves of books and a music room. He paused in the middle of the corridor. “That is my room, the large door at the end. This one here is your room.”

The room was bigger than I expected, with a king-sized bed that had an ornate metal headboard. An antique chaise and vintage dressing table made up the other side. It was both feminine yet classic and I couldn’t help but admire it. As much as one can admire a prison. Dimitri continued through the room to a small bathroom.

The size of the room quickened my heartbeat again, so I took a deep breath as he set me on the tile countertop. I was out of the dungeon and never, ever going back. Dimitri stepped away and thrust his hands into his pockets. Messy dark brown hair fell across his forehead effortlessly, a look that actors and rock stars probably paid a stylist a shit ton of money for. He had his dad’s jaw and eyes, but his face was longer.

More elegant. Whereas Ravazzani was brutally handsome, Dimitri was refined and gorgeous And his body was rangy and thin, not yet filled out with the strength of his father. Various tattoos ran along his forearms. Gia was right, Dimitri was a total snack. “Are you a model?” I blurted, only half-joking.

The side of his mouth hitched. “I could ask you the same, Valentina Mancini. After all, modelling is in your blood and I am told you look like your mother.”

“I tried once,” I said with a shrug. “I sent photos to a modelling agency in Toronto but they told me my boobs were too big.”

Dimitri smiled and kept his eyes on my face instead of checking out my chest like most guys. “It is their loss.” He shifted on his feet, looking increasingly uncomfortable. “I should let you shower. You must be exhausted.”

He turned for the door. This couldn’t be it. Wasn’t there more to discuss, like how I didn’t want to marry him? “Dimitri , wait!” When he paused, I said, “Are you okay with this? Us, getting married, I mean. Wouldn’t you rather choose your own bride instead of marrying some random?”

His eyes were flat and resigned, hardly the excitement of a man about to be married. “It doesn’t matter what I wish. It only matters what he wishes.”

“That can’t be true. You’re his only son. We could help each other, tell him we don’t suit each other. You could say that you don’t find me attractive or I’m too bitchy. Anything.”

“He won’t believe me, and furthermore he wouldn’t care. He never changes his mind once he decides something.” The walls felt like they were closing in on me and my palms began to sweat. Still, I had to try again. “Dimitri , I don’t want this. I want to go home, back to Toronto. I’m supposed to go to school in a few weeks.”

“I’m sorry, Valentina .” I wanted to scream in frustration but my throat was too raw. “Tina ,” I whispered, needing someone to call me by the name I’d heard all my life. I needed a reminder of home, of people who actually cared about me. “Cosa?”

“Everyone calls me Tina .”

“Tina ,” he said quietly, his gaze full of pity. “Cheer up. At least we’ll be miserable together.” After that cryptic statement, he left me alone in the bathroom.

*********

Rafael POV

I waited at the bottom of the stairs as my son came down the steps. “My office. Now.”

Dimitri regarded me with a carefully guarded expression, but said nothing as he crossed the marble floor and went toward the other side of the castle. Clamping my jaw tightly, I followed and tried to get a hold of my anger instead of shouting at him.

Once in my office, he went directly to the liquor bottles. Marco was still there, sitting in one of the armchairs from our earlier meeting. No doubt he wanted to make sure I didn’t kill Dimitri for interfering tonight. I slammed the door behind me, rage burning every inch of my skin. “Sit The Fuck down, Dimitri .”

He did, but not until he held almost a full glass of bourbon in his right hand. “You wanted to see me, Papà?”

I poured my own drink and went behind my desk, breathing deeply to keep my head reasonably clear. As the boss, I strove to be level headed and calm in everything. It didn’t always work, especially around Dimitri And Valentina , apparently. “Who is in charge of this family?”

“You,” my son answered.

“And who is your capo?”

“You.”

“Then will you explain why you went against my orders and released Valentina from the cell?” He took a drink before answering me. “She is my fiancée. It’s not right for her to be locked up in the dark the minute she arrives.”

“I decide what is right in this family, Dimitri . Me, not you.” I held up my injured hand. “She stabbed me with a pen in front of the men. A few hours down there wouldn’t have hurt her.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t see her, Papà. I think she’s afraid of the dark or claustrophobic. She was nearly catatonic when I found her.”

I cleared my throat. “Good. You’re excused.” I motioned toward the door. After he left, I leaned back in my chair. “He took that well, considering.”

“He is loyal,” Marco said. “A dutiful son.” Yes, he was. I stroked my jaw. “It’s better that she likes him.”

“It sounds as if you are convincing yourself. Are you feeling guilty?” I was, but I would never admit it. “You are my oldest and closest friend, my family, but even that has its limits.”

“No, it doesn’t. I’m the only one who will put up with your moods. By the way, Mancini has apologized for letting her escape. Said he’s dealt with the security on that part of his wall.”

I grunted and flexed my injured hand. Mancini had underestimated Valentina , something I would never do again, now that I knew what she

was capable of. “Good. Maybe he’ll keep better watch over the other two daughters.”

“He also demanded to attend the wedding, whenever it takes place.” Che palle. Mancini was not the one who made demands in our relationship. “I’ll consider it.”

“He is the girl’s father, Rav. No father would like to be kept from his daughter’s wedding.” I glared at my cousin. “You have work to do, no?” We had hundreds of operations to oversee, stretching from Siderno to Milan, Sao Paulo to Montreal.

We supplied more cocaine and heroin to Europe and the United States than just about anyone else. Marco was instrumental in much of it. “Not tonight,” he said, rising. “I am staying in to watch a film with Maria.”

Marco’s marriage had been happier than mine, as he’d actually fallen in love with his wife. Their three sons were already powerful members of the Ravazzani ’ndrina. I tried to tell myself I wasn’t envious, but that was a lie. “I keep telling you to find a mantenuta. Less work than a wife.”

“Not necessary. I’ll leave the mistresses to you, cugino.”

“It’s not healthy for a Calabrian man to stay faithful to his wife for so many years. Your balls will shrivel up and fall off.” He laughed on his way to the door. “Maria would cut them off herself if I kept a mantenuta. Good night, Rav.”

I shook my head and looked at my empty glass as I considered the rest of my evening. Anger and guilt roiled in my gut, my body tired but pulled taut, like a wire. Sleep would not come anytime soon.

There was only one thing to do. I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts. When I found the name I wanted, I started typing.

(Fifteen Minutes. Be Ready To Get Fucked Hard.)