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“And I haven’t asked a woman on a date in ten years. It’s not like I’ve lived in a monastery and haven’t seen any women. I’ve chosen not to.”
His hold on me has eased, and I nod. I don’t know what just changed, but I suddenly feel sad. It’s like the euphoria crashed and has left me on a low. He brushes back hair and pulls me against his chest, tucking my head against him. I wrap my arms around his waist and close my eyes.
“Piccolina, it can be as many or as few dates as you want. I just hope you’ll want more than one.”
ChapterThree
Lorenzo
I’ve done a lot of hard things in my life. I’ve killed. I’ve maimed. I’ve tortured. I’ve had to tell parents their child isn’t coming home. I’ve told wives their husbands aren’t coming home. I’ve been in an utter state of panic to rescue my sister from sex traffickers.
Only the last one was harder than saying goodnight to Michelle and closing her car door, then watching her drive out of the theater parking lot. I walked to Donatelli’s, had two glasses of wine, then had Afonso drive me back to my place. I jerked off in the shower, picturing her sucking me off. I woke up in the middle of the night and jerked off, thinking about coming on her tits and belly. I woke up this morning so hard it hurt. I jerked off in the shower again, and this time I called out her name.
No woman has ever affected me this way. Not my first crush. Not my first girlfriend in high school. Not the last woman I dated in college who I really thought I might have a future with — until I realized she’d run straight to the feds if she found out who I really was. How did I know? We had the news on one night, and one of our guys was on trial for murder. She had very strong, very vocal opinions on syndicates and what should happen to people in the mob.
It took everything I had not to correct her. The mob are the fucking Irish. The Italians — the Sicilians — are the Mafia. Only we get a capital M. Anyone else being called mafia gets that name from fuckers who don’t know. The Russians are the bratva, and the various Latin Americans are cartels. Since I couldn’t explain that, I ended things the next week. I thought she’d get too suspicious if I dumped her and kicked her off my couch and out of my apartment when the news segment was over.
But I don’t worry about that with Michelle. I don’t think she’s deceiving me to get something for Maks and his family. I approached her, not the other way around. And even if she thought about doing that while we watched the movie, she had to know Laura would never approve of her getting involved. So, she’s come to some kind of resolution about having any kind of syndicate connection. More than that, she’s willing to risk pissing off her best friend to be with me.
And knowing that is why I can’t focus on my meeting with Carmine and Matteo. I’m looking at expense reports, and they may as well be in Greek. And not the Greek I know from statistics. I can’t stop thinking about Michelle and how badly I want to see her. I texted this morning to see if she still wanted to have dinner with me. While Carmine and Matteo go back and forth about some type of plaster, I slip my phone out and look at my texts.
Michelle
You can pick me up at my office at 6:45. Constantine’s sounds nice. See you soon.
Mypiccolinaknows what she wants, apparently. I like it. I’ve heard Luca, Carmine, and Gabriele call their wives that. It skeeves me out a bit to hear Matteo call my sister that. I think Maria and Matteo know we all feel a little uneasy hearing him since we all know what it means to the other married couples. None of us discuss it. That’s why Matteo calls her Bambi when they’re around other people. I don’t think for a minute that any of the couples in my family are into Daddy Dom/Little Girl relationships. But I’ve heard Olivia, Luca’s wife, and Serafina call their husbands Daddy when they thought no one could hear.
I didn’t fully get it until now. I’ve called no other womanpiccolina, and I can’t imagine meeting anyone else I’d want to. The women calling their husbands Daddy has nothing to do with age play or incest. It’s about knowing their husbands will take care of them now that they belong to a world that’s frankly scary as fucking shit even to those of us born into it.
It’s about them feeling safe and protected, knowing they can depend on their husbands. None of them need a father to tell them how to act or give them rules and time outs. That’s not what the word means to them. Understanding this now makes me wonder if Michelle would ever call me that. Would she let me take care of her?
The real question is will she want to enter this world for real? If she does, then me protecting her and taking care of her is inevitable. There’s danger associated with being with me. I don’t underestimate that, and anything less would be negligent in a relationship.
“Are you going to keep staring at your phone? Or are you going to tell us how much fucking money we can spend?”
I shove my phone in my pocket as Matteo glares at me. I have no idea what he wants to spend money on. I glance at Carmine, and he looks just as annoyed. But I’m not sure if it’s solely directed at me or if some of it is also for Matteo.
“Huh?”
Matteo snaps at me when he demands my attention.
“What the fuck is on your phone that’s so damn interesting, Enzo? I have other shit to do today, and we’re not making any progress. Can you pay attention, please?”
“Sorry. I have a few different projects on my mind right now.”
Carmine snickers, and I stare at him.
“I talked to Maria this morning. Apparently, your newest project is Laura’s friend. Maria says you couldn’t stop staring at her. She said you looked at Michelle the way she looks at her popcorn. You wanted to gobble Michelle up.”
Matteo glowers at me.
“That’s why you can’t concentrate? Did you actually go to your restaurants?”
“No. I wound up at Donatelli’s, but I had tea with Michelle at the coffee shop across the street from the movies.”
“What the fuck, Enzo? I’m surprised Maks isn’t blowing shit up.”
Matteo is being literal. Maks will lose his shit over this, and he’s likely to take it out on some of our warehouses or cargo ships.
