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I shake my head, as if to say,No reason.The little idiot knows what I do and yet hasn’t realized that I have beautiful women trying to twist me around their little fingers all day long.
I turn a little toward her, mirroring her body language and resting my temple against my fist. “And what do you do?”
“What do you mean?”
I smile at her. “It’s not a trick. Who are you? What makes you happy?”
“Well,” she begins slowly, “I’m still in school, so that takes up most of my time. I’m not sure what else you’d like to know. Please don’t take offence to this, but you’re nearly twice my age and I don’t think there’s much we have in common.”
“It’s a warm night. You’re a beautiful girl. Humor me.”
Chiara glances down into her lap and then up at me through her lashes. A jolt goes through me. Fuck, that was cute. She’s putting it on, trying to seem even more innocent than she is without realizing it’s the most enticing thing she could do for me. If she does this in front of Scava he’ll eat her alive. That would be a shame, as there’d be nothing left for the rest of us.
“What would you like to know?”
“What’s it like being the mayor’s daughter?”
She smiles in relief. “Oh, that. I can talk about that. I don’t remembernotbeing the mayor’s daughter. Dad’s been Mayor of Coldlake since I was five years old. Most of the time I don’t notice it unless Dad’s campaigning and he needs Mom and me with him on stage with him at rallies, or when someone recognizes me in the street. Or if someone starts acting differently when they find out my name.”
“Different how?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Sucking up, mostly. Flattering me because they want something. I don’t like to be treated differently just because of who I am.”
Don’t worry,bambina. We’ll treat you exactly how you deserve.
The next election is next year, not long after Chiara turns eighteen. Mayor Romano will undoubtedly want our help influencing people how to vote. I wonder if he realizes his daughter won’t be all we’ll ask for in exchange.
She won’t be a wife. She’ll be our hostage. If he doesn’t do what he’s told, he’ll get her back in pieces.
“Your father’s a determined man. It’s going to be difficult for you to change his mind.”
“Just about impossible,” she agrees, nodding her head.
“You need someone to protect you.”
Chiara stops nodding, and I can see her mind racing.Protectoris too much likehusband.
“A friend,” I offer with a smile, and she relaxes once more.
Yes, aren’t I warm and approachable. Don’t I make you feel safe in this big scary world? I reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “The others gave you a birthday present. I’ve got something for you too, and it’s better than diamonds. Better than advice.”
“Oh? What is it?”
I crook my finger, beckoning her closer. She doesn’t want to approach, but I take a quick glance around as if I’m worried about us being overheard. The idea that what I’m about to say is just for her and not the others is too enticing, and Chiara slides in closer. She’s right next to me now and I can appreciate the beauty of her face and the swell of her breasts in her delicate white gown. It will take weeks of correction to turn Chiara into a proper Ferragamo woman once she’s mine. I can’t wait another year while she develops more bad habits.
I reach for her hand, and puzzled, she places hers in mine, probably expecting me to give it a pat or slip a bracelet onto her wrist.
Instead, I grip her hand so tight that she gasps and pull her across my lap. She splayed over my thighs before she can even yelp and I hold her in place with a hand on her lower back.
“What are you doing? Let me go!”
I grab her skirt and drag it up. Chiara starts fighting, but it’s not getting her anywhere. She’s wearing a small, flesh-colored G-string with her dress that accentuates the plump curves of her ass.
Chiara inhales, preparing to call for help.
I grab her hair, pulling it tight in my fist. “If you scream, I’ll make you fucking sorry. Have you forgotten who we are, Chiara? Do you think we’re here to spoil you, like your parents? Or remind you gently about your duty? We kill people for merely inconveniencing us. You’re lucky you’re still seventeen because otherwise, you’d already be fucking dead.”
“Please let me go. I didn’t do anything,” she whispers, her voice shaking with unshed tears.
