“You didn’t have one, did you?”
“No, and how would you know about lap dances?”
I relaxed a little. “I saw it in a movie with Anna.”
“You two watch far too much TV.”
“We do not.” I grabbed a pair of handcuffs off the wall. “And I’m going to make sure you can’t touch me.”
A smile replaced his annoyed look, the gleam in his eyes suggesting he was keen. I walked behind him and took hold of his wrists, clicking the handcuffs on. I then moved around him, running my fingertips over his arm and chest. I stopped on his top button and undid it, flicking open a few more. His chest started moving up and down in response, his excitement palpable.
I straddled his lap and kissed his neck, running my lips up and down his flesh.
“Rosa,” he groaned.
“No talking.” I placed my hand on his head and tipped it back, enjoying myself as I kissed and nibbled at his Adam’s apple, the rumbling sounds coming from his throat turning me on even more. He started muttering what he wanted to do to me, further heating me up. Regardless, I stopped kissing his neck and pushed off his lap.
“Don’t stop,” he said.
I walked over to the pile of gags, returning with one. “Looks like I have to gag you, Signor Talkative.” I placed the gag in his mouth and tied it at the back of his head. I then took a few steps back to look at my work. His shirt was open, revealing his delicious stomach, while his cock was jutting out of his pants. Adding to that, his mouth was gagged and he was helpless in the cuffs.
I smiled. “You look so damn sexy like that. Maybe I should tie you up more often, so I can use you for my pleasure.” I lowered my head and took his cock into my mouth, giving it a little suck. I felt him tense, felt the blood rushing to fill his cock, hardening it. Letting it go, I pushed up his shirt and ran my lips over his stomach, revelling in the feel of hard muscle. He swivelled his hips, smacking me in the face with his cock. I looked up at him. He was moving his head, grunting, looking like he was indicating to his cock.
“You want me to suck it again?” I asked.
He nodded.
“But what if I don’t want to?” I teased.
Looking determined, he lifted his hips, trying to angle his cock to my mouth.
Letting out a little laugh, I stood up and took a hold of his stiff cock, lowing myself onto it. He grunted his approval. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I started riding him. Salvatore moaned into the gag, looking like he was in heaven. I wrapped my arms around his neck and picked up speed. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, his expression doubling my arousal. I started rotating my hips, the feel of his clothes on my bare skin amplifying it even more. A baby cry came over the monitor, making me move faster, because nothing was going to stop me now. Thankfully, it went silent again, only the strains of a different Tina Turner song filling the room. Salvatore let out a loud groan, sounding like he was close to coming—but I was quicker. I cried out, the rush taking over my body, filling me with ecstasy.
After I’d finished, I climbed off him. Salvatore’s eyes shot open. He let out a muffled shout, no doubt complaining over not coming. I lowered myself to my knees and took a hold of his cock, running my hand up and down it, making him moan again. I cradled his balls with my other hand, massaging them as I continued to stroke his shaft. A second later, cum shot out of his cock, painting his chest.
Once he was finished, I rose to my feet. I found a cloth and cleaned him up, running the material over his chest and cock, causing his cock to twitch. He watched what I was doing, his sexy expression making me want to go for another round. Another baby cry pierced the monitor, quashing that thought. Getting rid of the cloth, I took the gag out of Salvatore’s mouth and uncuffed him.
He pushed to his feet and picked me up. “I definitely want to do that again.” Piero’s crying amplified. Putting me back down, Salvatore zipped himself up, then started buttoning his shirt. “Guess I have to go check if he needs a diaper change.”
“Payment.”
“You’re certainly not cheap, puttana.”
I smacked his arm. “Don’t call me a whore.” I grabbed my panties and pulled them on, along with my bra.
He headed for the door. “I’m paying you in diaper changes, so you’re my dirty puttana.”
I swiped up one of my shoes and threw it at him.
Laughing, he ducked and unlocked the door. “See you upstairs,” he said, disappearing with the baby monitor.
I quickly finished getting dressed, then left the room, closing the door behind me.
Across the gym, Alessandro was sitting on a weight bench, smirking at me. “Private dancer,” he said.
My face dropped. “You heard us? But it’s supposed to be soundproof.”
He laughed. “Salvatore told me to say private dancer when you left the room.”
“That evil man!” I walked to the door, pausing to glance back at Alessandro. “And stop working out so much, you take it too far.”
He poked his tongue out at me, then lay back down, grabbing a hold of the weight bar. He started pumping iron, the amount of weight on it excessive.
Shaking my head, I left the gym and headed for my room, finding Salvatore changing Piero’s diaper. He was moaning loudly, telling Piero off for being so smelly.
I laughed.
He glanced over his shoulder, giving me a scowl. “You didn’t warn me it would be this bad. His merda is toxic!”
“And guess what? You owe me one more change.”
“Dio! I got ripped off on this deal.”
“No you didn’t, and hurry up, his bottom needs wiping.”
“Please finish for me; I’ll do anything else you want.”
“Is the big bad mafia man scared of one diaper?”
“Sì, give me a knife and I’ll go kill Selena instead, because it’s better than wiping Piero’s merda.”
I walked up to him. “Big baby.”
“No, he’s small.”
“I was talking about you.”
“I’m not a bambino.”
“Well, until you can change Piero’s diaper without throwing a tantrum, I’m going to call you a big baby.” I picked up a wet towel and held it out to him.
He snatched it from my hand, barking, “Back up, toxic cleaning in process.”
Laughing, I backed up; not believing getting him to change a diaper could be so entertaining.
***
A few hours later, we were sitting in bed, watching TV, which Salvatore had installed in our bedroom after Piero was born. Well ... I was watching it, because Salvatore had drifted off to sleep with Piero snoozing on his chest. I got out of bed and switched off the TV, then gently removed Piero from Salvatore’s arms. To my relief, Piero didn’t wake. I laid him down in his bassinet and covered him with a blanket, then slipped back into bed, my eyes going to my sleeping husband. I smiled, feeling the happiest I’d ever been. I had a beautiful boy and a beautiful husband—I couldn’t ask for more.
A phone went off in the house. Ignoring it, I switched off the bedside lamp and rolled onto my side, ready for some sleep. A loud cry came from the passage, making me push out of bed. Careful not to wake Salvatore and Piero, I pulled on my dressing gown, then slipped out of the room.
Salvatore’s mother was standing at the top of the staircase in her dressing gown, holding a handheld phone. She dropped it and screamed, “No!” then ran down the staircase, disappearing before I could ask what was wrong.
I picked up the phone and placed it to my ear, hearing male sobbing coming through the line, Silvio continuously repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
“What are you sorry about?” I asked, feeling chills run up my arms.
“I killed her, I killed her.”
“Who?”
“Paola.”
Death isn’t prejudiced
It doesn’t distinguish between
Color
Gender
Creed
It doesn’t care if you
Go to church
Or a brothel
It will just take you
Or your loved ones
I couldn’t get much more out of Silvio. Though, shortly afterwards I found out what had happened. Luciano had passed out at the club from too much alcohol. Silvio had rooted through his pockets and taken his keys, telling the women he’d drive them home, leaving the twins to deal with Luciano.
On the way back, Silvio had sped through a stop sign and right into the path of a truck. The back of the car was hit hard, killing Paola and crippling Bella. After the ambulance and police had come, Bella was taken to the hospital, Paola to the morgue, and Silvio to the police station, where his breath was tested. Salvatore’s brother was well over the legal limit, his one phone call used to contact his mother.
When Luciano woke up the following day, Salvatore broke the news to him. I stood in Luciano’s doorway, watching Salvatore holding his sobbing brother, Luciano having collapsed upon hearing about his wife’s death.
Paola’s funeral followed three days later. Bella returned home from the hospital a month after that, her legs no longer working, my beautiful sister-in-law forever wheelchair bound.
Silvio didn’t return straight away. After the Don bribed the police into dropping the charges against his son, Silvio took off, disappearing for six months. The Don finally tracked him down, finding Silvio living off the streets in Rome, the once vibrant man now skin and bone, his face covered in a scraggly beard.
The Don returned home with him, forcibly carrying Silvio into the house with the help of a soldier. Silvio was struggling against them, screaming he didn’t deserve to be here. Luciano emerged from a passageway, causing Silvio to go silent. Silvio’s violet-blue eyes went to his brother, fear filling them.
Luciano’s face hardened. “I wish you had died instead of Paola,” he spat. He then spun around and disappeared up the staircase.
Silvio turned to his father, his cries breaking my heart. The Don wrapped his arms around him, tears filling the hard man’s eyes. He then directed his son to his room, where Silvio remained, refusing to come out for weeks. When he finally emerged, he raced down the staircase, almost knocking me over in his panic to get away. I took off after him, yelling at him to stop. He cut through the lounge, disappearing out the front door. A week later, the Don found him in a church. Silvio refused to leave. The priest offered to help Silvio deal with his demons. A few months later, Silvio decided to become a priest.
I never saw him again.
2010
2009 had been a mixture of pure joy and extreme tragedy. We gained a new life and lost another. In 2010 the same thing happened: a new life came into the world and an older one left it. I gave birth to a daughter, who we named after my grandmother, my nonna passing away the day Mia was born.
As one soul left the world another one entered it. It was how life worked.
2014
As with my daughter and grandmother, I hoped that another soul would replace mine. I wasn’t referring to a newborn child. I wanted a soul for Salvatore, someone to make him happy for the remainder of his years. It flickered through my dying mind briefly, but it had filled it much more two years prior.
2012
Promises
Written across our bodies
For a future
We hoped would never happen
The week before Piero’s third birthday, I wanted to go shopping for his present, so I’d gotten some soldiers together and went out with the oldest of Salvatore’s sisters. Anna and I had such a wonderful time that day, going between toy and clothes stores, even stopping to treat ourselves to cake and coffee. As we were leaving the café, a loud bang sounded. The soldiers leapt at us, shielding our bodies with theirs. A second later, one of them shouted, “False alarm!” It had only been a car backfiring—a rusty old Fiat with so much exhaust fumes it had left a smoke trail in its wake. I should’ve brushed the scare off right then and there, but I couldn’t. With our way of life, it could’ve easily been a hit. So, as soon as I returned home, I sought out Salvatore in his office, telling him that we needed to talk.
He looked up from his computer. “About what?”
I sat down in the chair in front of his desk. “Us.”
“What about us?” he said, looking confused.
“I—”
Before I could say another word, he blurted out, “I thought you were happy. Why would you want to leave me?”
I started laughing, totally taken aback by his words.
His face soured. “Why are you laughing at me?”
I composed myself. “I don’t want to leave you, silly. I never want to leave you. Why would you say such a thing?”
“Just something Anna said.”
“What did she say?”
“That you were getting annoyed my work was swallowing up too much of my time.”
“Oh, you silly man,” I said, pushing out of my chair. I walked around the desk and sat down on his lap. He was wearing a smart pair of black pants and a white button-down shirt. The top few buttons were left open, revealing a sneak peek of his chest. I brushed a finger over his skin. “I complain about anything that takes you away from me, especially your business trips.”
“Which will be stopping soon.”
“Really?” I said, excited.
“Sì. Ricardo came in earlier, telling me that Papà wanted him to take over the face to face side of the business.”
“But, Ricardo isn’t very diplomatic.”
“That’s exactly why. Papà wants him to learn to be, since he’ll be Don one day.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Well, I’m definitely not complaining, because it means I get to spend more time with my favorite Santini.”
“Our kids are your favorite.”
“You all are.”
He smiled. “You all are mine too.” He gave me a peck on the lips. “Is that all you wanted to talk about? My work?”
“No. I had a scare today.”
“I heard. The car backfiring.”
“It made me think.”
“About mechanics?”
I smacked his arm. “Don’t be silly.”
He smiled. “About what, then? It was just a backfiring car.”
“But it could’ve been a hit.”
His smile dropped. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s a distinct reality, Salvatore.”
“Less now. The five famiglie have agreed not to go after women and children—”
“—but what about you? The agreement doesn’t apply to men. Only last month, Sergio’s cousin was shot dead.”
“He was a lowlife pimp who got what was coming to him.”
“I don’t care what he did, his life was more important than money.”
“Not in our world.”
“Which is why I worry about you every time you leave the house.”
“You shouldn’t, and since Ricardo will be taking over the client meetings, I won’t be in any immediate danger. So, stop worrying.”
“We still should write a will.”
He screwed up his face. “You want to write a will after one backfiring car?”
“You know it’s more than that. Regardless of what you said, our life is dangerous.”
He exhaled loudly. “Thinking about a will for you hurts, and I don’t need one. Everything I have will go to you and the kids if I pass away. You’ll also be looked after by the famiglia. You will want for nothing.”
“I will want you.”
“I know.” He took hold of my face. “I feel the same way. All I’ve ever wanted is you.”
I gave him a sad smile. “Likewise, but if I die, I don’t want you to be alone for the rest of your life, I want you to remarry.”
He jerked his hands away. “No, Rosa! How could you say that? I could never remarry if anything happened to you.”
“So, if you die, then you don’t want me to remarry?”
He gaped at me. “You speak of my death as if it would mean nothing to you.”
I shook my head vigorously. “No, I’d be devastated; I don’t think I could function. I think I would die too.”
“No, if I die, you have the children to live for, and if you find a good man, then marry him. I want you happy and taken care of.”
“Which is what I would want for you.”
He frowned. “You tricked me.”
“About what?”
“You worded things so I would say what you wanted to hear.”
“I didn’t put those words into your mouth. You said you wanted me to be happy, and I want the same for you. So, if I die, you will marry again.”
“No.”
“Sì.”
He pushed me off his lap. “Go away; you’re being a stupid woman.”
I placed my hands on my hips. “And you’re being a mule-headed man!”
He waved a hand at me. “Then leave me in peace to do my work instead of telling me to fucking remarry.”
“Watch your language.”
“Or what, Rosa? Are you going to put me over your knee and spank me for swearing?”
“Don’t get smart with me!”
“Well, I’m the only smart one in this room right now, because in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not the one talking about death when we’re only in our thirties. Maybe I should put you over my lap and give you a spanking for upsetting me.”
I pointed a finger at him. “Don’t even think about it.”
He swiped out at me. I jumped back, but too late. He grabbed my arm and yanked me over his lap, holding me down.
“Salvatore!”
A smack came down on my ass, making me cry out. He laughed, then smacked me again. I started struggling, screaming at him to let me go. He let go and held his hands up. I pushed off him, my face burning hot. “You stronzo!”
“You have no sense of humor.”
“You smacked my culo!”
“Pull down your panties, I’ll kiss it better.”
“No!”
He gave me one of his charming smiles.
“Don’t think you can charm your way out of this, mister,” I snapped.
“I am truly sorry.”
“If you were you wouldn’t be smiling.” I smacked his hand as he reached for me.
I Love You, Salvatore Page 13
