Francesca
I didn’t go upstairs after I came home.
I unloaded the groceries and got dinner started, careful not to make too much noise so he wouldn’t wake up before he was ready.
I liked knowing he was in the house after I’d been up all night thinking about all the things that could go wrong.
It was just a few days ago that he’d been shot in the arm.
He never mentioned it or gave any indication he was in agony when he picked me up or put weight on it—like he really was immune to pain.
I made chicken on a bed of fettuccini, making the sauce from scratch and drenching the breadcrumbs in it before melting way too much mozzarella on top.
Cooking was a hobby I picked up in the last few years since I was so far away from everything.
The dinners my father hosted with the kitchen staff had inspired me.
My father had planned to host a dinner the other night, but after everything that happened with Lombardi, it got pushed back. Now it would be held tomorrow night, which was more fitting since that conflict had been resolved.
“Damn, smells fucking unbelievable.”
I didn’t hear him walk in, so I started to turn around to see him standing there in nothing but his black boxers.
But he pressed his front into my back, his big arms wrapping around me like a cocoon and squeezing me to him.
He dipped his head to my shoulder and kissed my neck as he pulled me into him, like he wanted me to feel that steel pole right against my back.
“You turn me on when you cook for me.” He moved his hand up my shirt and underneath my bra, squeezing one of my tits.
Then he let me go, giving me a hard smack on the ass before he moved to the nearby counter and leaned against it, so fucking hot in his muscles and ink.
He reminded me of a Roman soldier without armor, still a killing machine in just his flesh. It was hard not to stare, especially when I saw him at work. Sometimes I spotted him through my window, and I stood there and watched him for a while…like a creeper.
Maybe I was obsessed with him.
“I hope I didn’t wake you.”
He gave a slight shake of his head. “I didn’t hear anything, but there’s no better way to wake up than to a woman’s cooking. Well…” That handsome, boyish smile moved on to his lips. “I guess there’s one other thing…”
“Well, it’s ready if you want to set the table.”
“Yes, signorina.” He reached for the plates in the cabinet and grabbed silverware and napkins before he set the table. He picked up a bottle of wine from the counter and poured two glasses of water before he took a seat at the table.
I served the pasta on the plates then used the tongs to pile the chicken on top. I gave myself one piece but him two because he looked like he could eat a lot more than I could. I carried everything to the table and sat across from him.
“Cristo, look at that.” He immediately grabbed his silverware and went to town on his food, cutting the chicken, stabbing it with his fork along with some pasta, and placing it in his big mouth. He ate much faster than I could, inhaling his food like an animal. “You are one hell of a cook, baby.”
“Really? I think you’re a little biased.”
“I mean it. If your food sucked, I’d tell you.”
“You would?” I asked in slight surprise.
“Yep. Don’t ask me questions if you aren’t prepared for the answers.”
“Alright, how am I in bed compared to other women you’ve slept with?”
He’d just taken a bite, and he gave a quick choke as he chewed.
After a few moments, he got it down, staring at me with shock and amusement.
“Damn, you came right at me, huh?” He cut into his chicken again.
“It’s different hooking up with a woman from a bar than it is to pay for sex.
Because when you pay for it, it’s all about you, right?
And when you pick up a stranger, you try to be more… generous.”
“That’s a diplomatic way not to answer the question.”
He took a bite and chewed. “I’m not done, baby.
But I’m not slowing down my dinner because it’s hot and good.
” He took another bite and took his time getting it down.
“But I can say that I would gladly give up all of that to have this with you because it’s so much better than anything I’ve ever experienced. ”
My question had been more of a tease, and I hadn’t expected him to give an answer that was so sweet. “I thought I’d rank pretty low, honestly.”
“Why?” he asked incredulously.
“Well, you’re the one who does all the work.”
He gave a quiet chuckle behind his closed lips as he spun his fork through the pasta.
“Oh, baby. It’s my honor to do all the work.
A woman can’t be bad in bed when her job is to take what you give her.
So don’t worry about that.” He took a big bite of the pasta then set his fork down, chewing his food as he stared at me with that calm and confident gaze.
This guy was too good to be true. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, to find out something horrible about him, but nothing had popped up yet. “You could have had this any time you wanted, so why did you wait so long?”
“Because it took this long to meet you.”
Again, too good to be fucking true. “There’s no way I’m the hottest woman you’ve been with.”
“Yes way.”
“Now you’re full of shit—”
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I already said you’re my type to a fucking T.” He wrote out a T in the air in front of himself then pointed at me. “Yes, there’ve been models and women on OnlyFans and all that, but you’re the cream of the crop.”
I gave a slight shake of my head. “You could have anyone you want.”
“Oh, I know.” That arrogant grin moved over his lips. “But I want you.”
Ever since I’d laid eyes on this man, my life had turned into a whirlwind of passion and desire and joy so intense it made me black out sometimes.
There were certain memories I simply couldn’t recall, like my mind couldn’t handle their intensity.
“You know how they say if something is too good to be true, it probably isn’t true? I worry about that with you.”
He sat forward, his elbows on the table as he ate what was left on his plate.
“That’s not the case. I think you just see all my good qualities because you’re the only person who can see them.
But if you asked someone else, they would say I’m an egotistical, violent, psychotic maniac who will ruin your fucking life.
All about context.” He continued to eat, as if what he’d just said wasn’t some kind of warning.
“If you asked a woman I’ve been with how I treated her, some of them would probably say I’m a jerk who ghosted them after we sealed the deal—which is completely true.
But to be fair, I warned them that would happen.
And if you asked my regulars, they would tell you I’m too aggressive in bed but I tip really well. ”
“And if you asked my father?”
He’d just taken his final bite and put it into his mouth when I asked the question. He chewed, staring at me, seeming deep in thought as he considered it. “That’s a good one.” His eyes strayed away momentarily before they eventually came back. “He would probably tell you to stay away from me.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s seen that egotistical, violent, psycho, manic side of me firsthand.” He cocked his head slightly as he looked at me. “Just a few hours ago.”
“What happened?”
“Leo didn’t tell you?”
“Everyone went straight to bed.”
He gave a slow nod. “I’d rather you hear their version instead of mine.
” He set his plate aside and took a drink of wine before he sat slightly forward, arms on the table, looking at me with that same intense stare he seemed to always wear around me.
“So you were worried about me?” There was a ghost of a smile on his lips like he got off on the thought of me freaking out for four straight hours.
“Yes.”
“Tell me about it.”
I gave a slight shake of my head.
“Come on, baby.”
“I felt like I was having a panic attack.”
“Yeah?” His smile widened.
“I know bad things happen, even under the best circumstances.”
“Not with me.”
“You know, you pull off the arrogance most of the time, but in this context, it’s not cute at all.
Complicity is the biggest cause of failure in any industry.
You don’t study for that test because you think you’re so smart, so you fail it.
You don’t double-check your gun to make sure it’s loaded, then you end up in a gun fight with no bullets.
I need you to take your life very seriously, Wolfe. ”
The smile stayed, and he showed no sign of dropping it. “Why is that, baby?”
I gave an irritated sigh.
“Why is that?” He lost the smile, his voice lower.
My eyes dropped.
“Look at me.”
My eyes immediately flicked up to meet his, and I swallowed, reminded that the man I was sleeping with was extremely dangerous. Not to me. But in general.
“I don’t play games,” he said. “Whatever I think, I say. I want the same from you.”
“I don’t express myself that way—”
“Then learn,” he snapped. “Now tell me why I need to take my life seriously.”
I sucked the inside of my cheek while I met his stare, unsure how we went from strangers to two people in a very serious relationship in a matter of weeks.
In some ways, he was still a stranger to me, but he didn’t feel like one.
“Because I’d be devastated if I lost you…
” Tears welled in my eyes out of nowhere, coming from a place in my heart I didn’t even know was there.
A man had never made me feel more alive than he did.
Had never made me smile and laugh and then come, in that order, in the span of ten minutes.
I hadn’t been looking for a man, but then the man of my dreams walked into my life and took me in a way I didn’t even know I wanted to be taken.
His eyes peered into mine with an unblinking stare, watching me with such potent intensity, he seemed more like a statue than a person. He seemed to relish my emotion, to hold on to this moment.
“Because—because I’m kinda obsessed with you.”
It was a testament to how serious the moment was that he didn’t flash his signature playful grin.
He just met my stare with his own, absorbed the moment like he was taking a mental picture of it, recording it to keep forever.
“Good—because I would kill anyone and everyone in this fucked-up world just because you asked me to.”
I got to work in the morning before everyone else.
Leo didn’t come in until shortly before noon. He didn’t knock on the open door before he stepped into my office. “Is dinner still on tonight?”
“As far as I know.”
“Dad’s not around.” He approached the desk, the bruising still visible on one side of his face, like he’d been kicked by a horse. “Know where he is?”
“I think he’s at lunch with Antonio.”
He nodded.
“How’s your face?”
He touched it absent-mindedly like he’d forgotten about it, even though he must have seen it in the mirror when he got ready this morning. “Oh, it’s fine.”
“What happened?”
He shrugged. “Some asshole slammed my face into the table. It’s fine, though, because I slammed a door in his face a couple of times. We’re even.”
“You didn’t kill him?”
“Nah, we need the labor.” He looked down at my desk to see what I was working on.
“So, what exactly happened last night?”
“We killed Luigi and his cronies and absorbed his business,” he said. “You know that.”
“But I want to know how it happened.”
“Oh…you want those details.” He took a seat in the armchair and crossed one ankle on the opposite knee, slouched in the chair with one of his shoelaces untied.
“Shit was crazy. We expected an apology from Lombardi, some groveling, maybe some reconciliation, but the strunzo decided to backstab us again. We were supposed to meet without guns, all of us, but it ended up just being us who were unarmed. And basically, Luigi said we were to surrender our business. Otherwise, he would kill us all, starting with me. Said Dad was soft.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Seemed pretty bleak. And then Wolfe stepped up, and that’s when shit got crazy. ”
I tried not to look too interested, but I wanted to know every single detail of Wolfe’s involvement. Wanted to know the version of him that I hadn’t seen. Wanted to know all of it, to understand every nuance of the man I bedded. “Crazy, how?”
“Well, Wolfe had a guy on the inside who owed him a favor and somehow managed to give them faulty guns. All of them, even Lombardi. Wolfe told Lombardi’s guys to shoot, and nothing happened…
and then he started to laugh. And then he kinda lost it.
” Leo’s eyes widened for a second, like Wolfe was crazy.
“Told Luigi to give his son a call…and then his phone started to ring from a crate.”
“Oh my god.”
“Wolfe pulled him out with an oxygen tank. He was knocked out with meds. Luigi begged for his son’s life, et cetera, et cetera.”
I swallowed.
“Wolfe cleaned house.” He made a gesture with his hands like he was dusting off his palms. “I didn’t like the guy at first, but you know what, he gets it done. He’s not someone I’d ever want to piss off.”
“He—he killed his son?”
“No, he let him go,” Leo said. “But he killed Luigi and his closest captains. Told everyone else if they surrendered, they could work for Dad instead. All of them did. And that’s the full story.”
“It sounds like he knew Lombardi would cross you.”
“Yeah, he tried to tell Dad that, but you know how stubborn he is.”
So my family was alive because of Wolfe.
Leo’s eyes trailed off for a while as he became lost in thought. “I’ve heard tales about him from Cosa Nostra, but you know, shit always gets exaggerated and twisted. But now…I believe every word.”