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The sudden raised voice of Maximus pulled my attention back into the room and I turned around to see all three of my Capo’s and Toni staring at me with concern. “What were you saying?” I took a seat at the top of the table and forced myself to get my head in the game.
“Francesco Aiani would like an invitation to visit. The Boss has agreed that you will host him and his men here as well as open the in-house club and bar for the night.”
I gritted my jaw at this information. That was all I needed. Francesco Aiani was the boss of the Aiani family who were important allies of ours. We needed to keep them on our side as they had great connections with the best clients for gun running and armouries. Their equal hatred for the Leone Family made us natural allies. They were the third largest Mafia family in Northern Italy after us and the Leones. But I hated hosting in my home. I liked to keep my family life and my work separate. Very rarely did I ever do work here. Only the weekly Capo meetings taking place right now are scheduled at my home. And that is because I trusted these men with my life and my family's. But I didn’t trust outsiders. I did not trust Aiani, even if he was an ally. But if my zio had already agreed to it, there was not much I could do.
“When?” I growled, not hiding my obvious annoyance.
“In two days’ time.”
Rubbing my hands up and down my face, only one thought crossed my mind. Olivia was going to have to stay with the kids for the night. Mamma would for sure have to make an appearance and I would need someone I trusted to keep them in their rooms with so many people on the premises. Realising what I had just admitted, I frowned. Did I trust her? I hardly knew her but for some reason I knew that I could. Though it would be risky for her to be here when she doesn’t know the truth about who I really am.
I ended the meeting and glanced down at my watch. 3pm. They would be getting their afternoon snack according to what Olivia said this morning. Do I dare? Why can’t I stay away from her?
It’s so much harder being in the house knowing she is in arms' reach. And after her little confrontation this morning and my very unsatisfying encounter with Mia, I wanted her more than ever. I had never allowed anyone to speak to me the way she did. Normally, such disrespect and defiance would send me into a violent rage, but with her, it just turns me on. Our little moment this morning just confirmed what I wanted to know. That as much as she was fighting it, she wanted me too. Or at least her body did. She was so receptive to my touch. She didn’t even realise that her breathing had shallowed, goose pimples adorned her soft skin when I caressed her neck and her perfect tits pushed up against my chest when I brushed my lips against hers.
Fuck I was getting hard just thinking about it again. But I had a rule. One that I was failing miserably at. Never fuck employees. It always ends badly. They catch feelings and it gets messy. They think they can change me. No one can change me. Not even her. Continuing with whatever this was between us was a terrible idea. I knew I would break her eventually if I persisted, but for the first time in my life, I was actually thinking of someone else’s needs before my own. I don’t have relationships. I don’t feel things the way a normal person should. I was taught from a very young age that feelings and emotions were a sure as hell way to get yourself killed in the world I lived in. I would never give anyone that kind of power over me. I couldn’t. I had to be seen as cold, hard and ruthless. That was the hand I had been dealt.
My father wasn’t like me. Yes, he was feared and respected, but he was also soft. He loved my mother more than life and, in the end, it resulted in his death. He died protecting her. Proving everything my zio and boss, Salvatore, had always told me since I was a young boy. Love is weakness. And I had a feeling that this was the kind of thing that a woman like Olivia would need. She wouldn’t just sleep with me, no matter how much her body craved it. She had too much self-worth. Too much self-respect. No, she wanted the whole package. The doting, the romance, the…relationship. It was obvious she was that type. And I could never provide her with that. So, knowing all of this…why am I even contemplating trying to ‘bump into her’ around the house?STAY AWAY. It is so simple.
But I'm hungry.And where is food kept… In the kitchen. She is probably not even there anymore. Before I could think any more about what I was doing, I made my way down the stairs to the ground floor.
“Boss,” the soldiers, who were stationed in the main lobby, bowed their heads to me as I stormed past them. I reached the doorway of the kitchen and stopped dead at the sight before me. Olivia was on her tiptoes, failing to reach up to the top cupboard for a tub of aioli. The way she was leaning over the worktops slightly was forcing her rounded and perked ass in her tight jeans to stick out even more. Her dark hair was still damp but was starting to curl naturally as it cascaded down her back, nearly touching her tail bone. Her white camisole is soaked through and clinging to her olive skin. My eyes roamed her from head to toe hungrily and before I could stop myself, I was standing right behind her. I pressed my body against her back, her ass brushing against my semi-hard cock as I reached up over her shoulder and grabbed the spread. She jumped and looked over her shoulder with a shocked expression. Placing the aioli on the counter without taking my eyes off hers, I gripped the countertop either side of her body, keeping her trapped. Her stunning irises that held so many mysteries, blazed in irritation.
She quickly grabbed the tub and turned slightly, lifting her hands in surrender and avoiding my face. “Excuse me,” her tone was stern but held none of the normal sassiness she gives me. For a second, I was surprised. I had at least expected a little bit more of a reaction. Even a scolding. Reluctantly, I lifted my hands off the kitchen surface, allowing her to escape, and she marched around the huge kitchen island to get as far away from me as possible. She opened the tub and started to spread the butter over some bread, her eyes cast down, ignoring me completely.
I frowned. I didn’t like that. At least before, she gave me something to work with, even if it was disgust.
My eyes flickered down to her chest and I fought a groan that was itching to rumble from my throat when I saw her pebbled nipples through the thin, wet fabric of her top. Fucking hell. I could see the details of a white lace bra and both that and her drenched top were leaving nothing to the imagination.
“You’re wet,” I smirked, and her eyes darted up at me in shock at first and a cute blush formed on her cheeks. Ha, she has a dirty mind too. She relaxed when she realised what I meant.
“So I am,” she responded in a flat tone. Annoyed at her brush off again, I felt that instant darkness crawling to the surface. Why is she being so…normal? Why is she not reacting to me?
I stepped towards her and leaned against the island, taking a piece of salami off the plate and lifting it to my mouth. She momentarily froze, knife in hand as she watched me suck my finger clean. There it was…ever so brief but a flair of attraction in her eyes before they turned hard and she returned to making the sandwiches.
“Can I help you, Mr Buccini?” She asked professionally as she cut the sandwich into finger strips like my mother used to do for me as a child.
I frowned at the formality. I liked it better when she called me Giovanni last night. “Depends. What are you offering?” I gave her a smouldering gaze, but she didn’t even look up to allow its full effect. This woman was aggravating.
“Well, right now, sandwich soldiers or salt and vinegar crisps.”
My jaw ticked. This was ridiculous. Why won’t she look at me? This morning she was seconds away from kissing me and now she is acting like I am nothing to her. She glanced up at me when I didn’t respond. The moment those stunning eyes locked with mine, I lost control. I grabbed her roughly by her soft upper arms and slammed her back into the fridge behind, trapping her with my body. Her eyes widened and a gasp escaped her lips from the shock of my sudden movement.
“What game are you trying to play here, Olivia?” I gritted through my teeth.
Her eyes filled with relentless rage but she kept her tone low and cold.
“I am not playing any games, Mr Buccini. I am just trying to do my job. The job you are paying me to do andnotanything else.” She curled her eyebrow up with sass and my immediate frustration turned to amusement. How did she do that? How could she control my emotions so effortlessly?
My eyes rested on her tempting, plump lips as she talked and it took everything in me to fight the overwhelming urge to kiss her. To taste them. To tug at that bottom lip with my teeth until it bled.
“I don’t like it when you call me that.”
“Then what should I call you…sir,” My dark eyes snapped up to hers and we both knew she did that on purpose. The way ‘sir’ slid off her tongue so seductively with challenge. She fucking knew what she was doing to me and she was enjoying it.
Just at that moment, Mamma came striding into the room and looked from me to Olivia with a blank expression. Olivia immediately pushed past me and grabbed the sandwiches and crisps from the island as I straightened up.
“Olivia,” my mother greeted her as she raced past, head down and avoiding mamma’s curious eyes. As soon as she left the room, I turned around and poured myself a glass of iced water from the fridge. I could feel my mother's deadly glare on me as she watched my every move.
