Eight

Dante

I am very disappointed with Isabella for her naivete regarding her family's situation. I understand that most fathers in the business prefer to raise their daughters hidden from the mafia. It is good to a greater extent, but not very much if the daughter is the absolute heir. She needs to know these things. She has to learn about betrayal and have zero tolerance for it.

I do not tolerate betrayal in my family or business. I kill any traitor on identification. I don't give them time to grow around me and then stab me in the back.

I have hired two private detectives to take up the research on who exactly it is that is selling the souls of the De Luca family to the devil. My biggest suspicion is Rosa Gallinari, Roberto's second wife. She is eleven years younger than him, which makes her very young. She is the daughter of a middle-class restaurant owner. Never grew up in a luxurious life and only got to taste it when she got married to Roberto nine years ago. We can't rule out the fact that she meets up with Federico often. She used to meet up with him before Roberto was put out of the picture and the meetings are more frequent now. Federico is currently unmarried. He didn't make another attempt to marry after his wife was killed by an enemy about sixteen years ago. He has only been hooking up with his mistresses who have only been temporary. I can't stop suspecting something dusty is cooking up between the two.

Isabella's life is wrapped around me like a blanket. I feel so obliged to help Roberto. I gave to protect her at any cost. Robert helped me a lot when I was still young in the Mafia. He guided me and helped me establish my business empire at the young age of twenty-one when my father was erased from this life by an unknown killer up to date. I tried so head to find out who and even hired foreign investigators but still never found out who. That mother fucker was a careful and clean killer. He was shot on his way to a family gathering in Catania.

By the time I get back home at seven in the evening, I am exhausted. I left for work at four in the morning and have been in the field the whole day. I get so exhausted these days, maybe because I haven't been giving my gym enough visits lately. I will have to adjust my schedule so that I get at least an hour to release this toxic energy in me.

"Where is Isabella?" I ask the first person I meet in the house. It is Dominico, my young servant. He was brought here on Elvira's recommendation. I don't question Elvira's judgment. She has taken good care of this house ever since her husband and daughter passed on. She dedicated the rest of her life to taking care of this house and I appreciate her hard work. She is the only person in the world I trust that she wouldn't betray me even if she was put on on gun point. I don't trust anybody else, not even my right hand.

"She is probably in her room, signore," he responds, with a slight bow. "Do you want to have dinner? Dinner is ready."

"Has she had her dinner yet?" I ask, getting a spark of excitement, which is one of those strange things my body has been doing since she started sleeping in my house.

"Not yet. She said she was not hungry," he responded.

"Prepare the table for two. I will bring her," I inform him, before walking upstairs to her suite. My suite is on the far right of my house and it is totally out of bounds for every staff member except for Elvira and the staff she has only been permitted to clean there. That's where my home office is also.

I don't bother knocking because I just don't want to.

Isabella turns to look at me with a horrified look on her face. She has a different book this time in her hands. She must be an avid reader. She has made a small library of about fifteen books on top of the chest of drawers next to the dessert.

Ignoring the resentful look on her face, I walk straight to the chest of drawers and make a scan of the books. Bare-chested men with pumped abs and muscles, half-naked women in half-naked men's chests.

Wow!

"How many have you read so far?" I ask, keeping my gaze locked on one where the woman is in a red thong and is gagged. Her hands are tied behind her and she is kneeling in front of what seems to be a man holding a belt in his right hand because he is on black trousers and shoes. His face is not shown. Only the lower half of his body. I can only imagine what is inside hiding from the title of the book.

"I am on the third," she responds.

Well, sounds responsive tonight. I didn't expect a direct answer even when I asked. Madonna never gives you what you expect at the time you want it. I wonder what she is reading. If it is anything out of this selection, then my innocent perspective might currently be tainted.

"You asked for these?" I doubt that Dominico would order such books from the bookshop on his own accord.

"Yes. The first batch of books I was given was terrible so I suggested some titles that have been on my wish list," she responds. I can't stop the grin that forms on my face. I turn to look at her

"This is what has been on your wishlist?" I ask, pointing at the books.

"What's wrong with them?" she asks, closing the one she is reading without placing a bookmark. I hope she remembers where she stopped.

"Nothing. I just think you have good taste in books though," I tell her, leaning slowly on the wall.

She rolls her eyes at me. Those eyes, dolcezza mia. The insolence makes my palms twitch. I could easily put her over my knee and teach her not to roll her eyes at her elders. She is only twenty-four. I can still teach her obedience.

She is only dressed in a pair of shorts and an oversized grey T-shirt. I wonder why she makes this kind of selection from all the designer clothes in the clothes. She is all her long legs splayed on the bed. This stirs my body in the wrong way.

"I need you to be downstairs for dinner in five minutes. I should find you there when I finish changing," I tell her, finding the need to get out of here as soon as possible before I crawl onto that bed and have those legs wrapped around, making all that shit in her fantasy books come true.

"I don't want to eat. I already told Elvira," she says.

"I am not hearing your shit. I want you on the dining table and dressed more appropriately. I am not hearing any excuse. I think I haven't shown you what I am capable of, so don't make tonight the show-off. I don't think you are ready to sit on the table with a sore ass."

"Look here, Dante. I am not afraid of you, and you can't keep forcing me to do things. Being kept here captive in your luxurious prison is punishment enough for me. If I want to state myself to death then that is none of your business. It is my body, not yours, and you have no right to command me whatsoever. I am not going to be here at your beck to call. I am not your servant, or slave, because servants have a say at some point," she spits out and then glares at me with those eyes that can bore holes through the skin.

Before I can stop myself, I am on the bed, and in the blink of an eye, my hand is grabbing her at the back of her neck. She tries to fight but she should know better than to fight me because I am much more stronger than her.