Frivolous: A DARK MAFIA AGE-GAP ROMANCE

by Veronica Lancet

  "You're saying this now," I give him a sad smile. "But how long will this last? A few weeks? A few months?" I blink rapidly, trying to stop the tears from forming in my eyes. "You know I'll end up marrying someone at some point. We can have our fun but..."

  "No buts." He tips my chin up to look at him. "This isn't some temporary shit for me, Gianna. I'm in it for the long haul. I'm not going to give you up for anyone, much less let some bastard put his slimy hands on you. If I have to kill all your husbands, then so be it. If I have to steal you away, even better. But make no mistake." His nostrils flare, his breathing harsh. I'm so captivated by his steely eyes that I can only nod at everything he says.

  "You. Are. Mine," he enunciates each word before his lips are finally on mine, giving me the peace I'd been searching for all along.

  Because he has the power to rile me up and send me over the edge. But he's also there to calm me.

  "Now here's what we're going to do. I'm going to get rid of this body, make the crime scene look like a robbery, and you're going to say that he remembered he had something to do and he left you alone at the refreshments' table."

  "What about the CCTV?" I ask, worried. I don't want Bass to get in trouble for me.

  "Don't worry about it, sunshine. Go back and put on your best smile and I'll do the dirty work."

  "Ok," I nod, placing my trust in him.

  "Just remember. When I'm done," he pauses, licking his lips as he stares at me. "I'm coming for my due."

  And just like that, he's gone, body in tow.

  I remain in the same spot for a moment, trying to understand what it is that he makes me feel. Because it's not ordinary. No, it's anything but ordinary when he's capable of killing for me.

  He already killed for me.

  His parting words are both a warning and a promise. And I find that I can't wait... for both.

  Chapter Eleven

  "I've taken care of it already," Cisco confirms as I return to the party.

  "Good. Thank you," I reply, about to hang up.

  "You're taking an awful long time with that mission, uncle. I hope you haven't had a change of heart," he chuckles.

  "Don't worry. I'm on it," I answer curtly.

  "I'll be waiting." He hangs up first.

  I should have asked him if he was behind the bomb on Benedicto's car, but something tells me he wouldn't have been too forthcoming with that answer.

  Dario was right that Cisco isn't the same young man I used to know. Maybe it's the new responsibilities getting to him, but I've noticed a coldness to him that wasn't there before.

  It's like he's barely holding himself from wrecking destruction on Guerra—and everyone who stands in his way.

  Not only is his urgency suspicious but also the way he wants to go about it.

  I know it's not my place to question his orders, but I can't help but be skeptical about his reasoning. Somehow, I don't think it's just the old DeVille-Guerra enmity that's driving his hatred towards the family. I'd suspected before that there might be something more, something of a personal nature. And as I've observed him more, I can bet there's something he's not telling me—or anyone.

  As a young kid, he'd always been a little different from the rest. Quiet, withdrawn, not very social. I'd always thought it had been because he'd known what awaited him, and the responsibility had felt heavy on his shoulders. After all, he'd spent all his childhood and teenage years studying and preparing to take over his father's position.

  Maybe he is trying to prove something by going after Guerra so aggressively, but I don't think I like his approach.

  And as much as I know my duty to the famiglia and that I'm not supposed to question my orders, every day it's becoming harder and harder to actually go through with the plan.

  More than anything because I've gotten to know Gianna better, and a public ruination like Cisco wants would truly hurt her.

  As much as she's never addressed her reputation, I can tell the rumors bother her a great deal, even though she tries not to show it. I've also gotten to know enough of her to realize that she doesn't have a healthy relationship with men, and her reputation might end up being a product of them taking advantage of her.

  Benedicto clearly hasn't set a very good example by parading her around all his acquaintances in hopes someone might offer for her. Certainly, he hasn't shown her there's anything more to her than her body.

  I'd witnessed that first hand with how she'd reacted to me. Whenever we are in a more intimate setting, her first inclination is to see what she can do for me, and not the other way around.

  It makes me wonder if she hasn't been conditioned to think that all she can offer someone is her body, and that as long as she gets a man off, her job is done.

  The thought that people would have used her like that makes me so mad, I want to kill each and every man that's ever laid a finger on her.

  And it also brings me to my current dilemma.

  I'd been a fucking asshole when I'd blackmailed her to blow me, and as I build a more accurate picture of who Gianna Guerra is, I can't help but regret I'd treated her like everyone else before—I'd used her.

  It doesn't matter that in that moment I'd only wanted to get even with her for her stupid pranks, or get her off her high horse by forcing her to her knees. At the end of the day, I'm just another bastard who'd used her.

  Fuck!

  I'm going to have my work cut out for me to make sure she understands she has more to give than her body—way more. And because of that, I'm not going to pressure her into anything she doesn't want to do. I'll go slow—though it kills me to—and I'll show her that I'm not with her because I want in her pants.

  But as I've gotten to know her better, it's not only her motivations that I've come to understand but also question mine.

  For a while now I've known that there's no way I'm going to go through with the plan. I don't think I could stand myself if I was the cause of her tears and sadness. And a public humiliation would no doubt end her.

  And make her hate me.

  And I can't have that. No matter how much Cisco's on my back to complete the mission, I'm not going to be able to do it.

  I've been racking my brain to think of alternatives, but I fear the only way for both of us to make it out alive is to simply disappear.

  That means I need to use every single connection I have to get us new identities and a way to escape both Cisco and Benedicto's scrutiny.

  As I return to the museum, I immediately spot her at the Greco-Roman exhibit. She's by the sidelines, a glass of champagne in her hand as she looks aloof at everyone trying to approach her.

  It's easy to see that every man in her vicinity is smitten with her, their eyes unable to veer off her location.

  My lip twitches in displeasure knowing she's alone and defenseless, no trace of Benedicto and Cosima in the vicinity.

  I stalk across the room, my eyes fixed on her, and I note the immediate moment she spots me too.

  She strengthens her back, the corner of her mouth slightly curling up, her eyes big and luminous as she turns that pretty gaze towards me.

  "Is it done?" She comes towards me, her body moving sinuously in what I can only describe as an assault to the senses.

  There's simply no match to Gianna, anywhere in the world.

  "Yes. It shouldn't give you any problems," I nod, offering her my arm as I take her for a quick stroll around the room.

  "People are staring at us," she whispers, her gaze darting around.

  And they are. They're probably wondering what someone like me could be doing with someone like her.

  "Let them stare."

  For the first time I find that I don't mind my scar anymore. If Gianna can overlook it, then that's all that matters.

  "Where are we going?" she frowns when she sees us exiting the exhibit and heading towards the stairs.

  "It's a surprise," I whisper in her hair.

  In no time we're in the middle of a dance floor, the Blu
e Danube in full swing as I swoop her in my arms.

  She takes her position immediately, the music calling to her. One hand comes to rest on my shoulder, the other nestled within mine as I lead her into the waltz.

  "I didn't know you could waltz," she says, almost breathless. Her cheeks are flushed, a raw smile on her face as she looks at me.

  "There's a lot you don't know about me, sunshine," I reply, twirling her in the middle of the floor.

  We're surrounded by tens of other couples, all giving themselves to the dance and not minding who else is on the dance floor.

  "That's right, isn't it. I don't really know you," her teeth nibble at her lower lip, a small frown appearing on her perfect features.

  "I'm not a deep person, Gianna. What you see is what you get with me," I grunt, not liking the line of conversation. Though it is technically true that she doesn't know much about me.

  "Who taught you how to waltz?" She asks and I stiffen.

  I should have realized this would come up eventually.

  "My mother," I answer briskly.

  "The one who cheated on your father?"

  "The same one." My tone is dry as I reply, but I quickly catch myself. It's not Gianna's fault for my issues with my mother. And it's normal for her to be curious about my past. There's already so much I can't yet tell her, I might as well give her some glimpses into it.

  "She was often lonely at home. I was the youngest of three children and my older brothers were already teenagers when I was born. After they left home, I was the only one left to keep her company."

  "So she taught you how to dance?"

  I grimace at the question, the memories a tad too unpleasant for such an exquisite night. Still, I indulge her.

  "She had a flair for the dramatic. She was used to a glamorous lifestyle, but when my father stopped letting her go out, she started entertaining herself. First it was the dances, and tea parties, and all sorts of things she could come up with. Then, it was the men..." I trail off.

  "Why did he stop letting her out?" Gianna asks as I move her towards the back of the room.

  "I told you she had a penchant for theatrics. They couldn't go anywhere without her causing a scandal. Retrospectively, I don't think my mother was well... mentally. But my father didn't know that, or he didn't want to accept. Rather than have her embarrass our family, he preferred keeping her out of the public eye."

  One twirl, and Gianna comes face to face with me, her chest flush against mine. The proximity is killing me, and I swear I can feel her body heat through both our clothes. It's like a drug, enthralling and intoxicating me.

  "You were at home when she would bring the men over, weren't you?" Her voice is concerned, her touch comforting as she slowly moves her hand from my shoulder up my neck, cupping my jaw.

  I nod.

  "I'm sorry. It must have been horrible to see that," she purses her lips, giving me a sad smile.

  "It's in the past," I mumble, though that's not the worst I witnessed during that time.

  "I don't really remember my mother," she suddenly admits. "I have flashes of her, and I remember her smile. But other than that... I only know what people tell me about her."

  My arm tightens around her, and I bring her closer, realizing this isn't easy for her, either.

  Everyone knows the rumors about Benedicto's first wife, and that had been the main reason why he'd gotten away with marrying Cosima so soon after.

  "That she was a whore and that she slept with the entire city," she gives a dry laugh. "A bit of a déjà vu, isn't it?"

  "Stop it. Don't say that."

  I don't want to hear her undervalue herself. Not when she's so precious.

  "Why? It's the truth," she sighs. "You know that too, Bass. You don't have to pretend you haven't heard what they say about me."

  "Is it true?" I ask her directly, almost beating myself for it. I'd rather not know, all things considered. But I can't stop myself from being curious.

  "Would you believe me if I said no?" she asks in a small voice, as if ready to be called a liar.

  "I'll believe you," I bring her hand to my mouth, kissing her knuckles.

  "You're sweet. Even if you probably don't mean it."

  "I do. I'll believe what you tell me." I look her in the eyes, letting her see the sincerity behind my words.

  I've already crucified her enough based on appearances' sake. But now I know better. I know her better. And I want to learn everything about her.

  Because she's mine.

  I guess there's no escaping it. Deep down I must have realized this pull I have towards her from the very beginning, and I preferred to fight it, thinking she's everything I despised in a woman.

  But I've been lying to myself all along.

  There's no escaping her.

  "Most of the rumors are made up by guys that I reject," she takes a deep breath, biting her lip again as if she's worried I'm not going to believe her. "If I reject their advances, or refuse to go out with them, they're quick to say they've already fucked me," she shrugs, but I can see that it hurts her.

  "Haven't you tried to refute the rumors?"

  "Who will people believe," she laughs. "A guy who thinks he's the shit and can fuck anything that walks, or a girl that's already branded a sinful Jezebel?" She shakes her head. "I did try in the beginning. But it didn't solve anything. People believe what they want to believe. After that, why bother trying?"

  "Thank you for telling me," I tell her, and a slight blush creeps up her cheeks as she turns her face away.

  "No one's asked me for my side of the story, you know..." she trails off, looking in the distance. "They automatically assume it's true. They ask for details, and stuff like that. But no one's ever asked me if it was true."

  "Because they're jealous of you, sunshine. It's easier for other girls to turn you into the enemy because you're so much better than them. And it's even easier for guys to malign you because you're too unattainable. They want to have you, even if it's just a fantasy."

  "I guess so," she nods dispassionately.

  Without even thinking of who might be watching, I stop moving, my fingers on her jaw as I force her to look at me.

  "Listen to me, Gianna, and listen well. You don't owe anyone anything. Let them talk because you know the truth." She blinks repeatedly at my words, almost confused. "And because I know the truth."

  "I... I don't know what to say..." So many emotions seem to cross over her features at my words, her eyes watery as she just raises herself on her tiptoes to give me a sweet kiss.

  In the middle of the ballroom, where everyone can see, she's kissing her bodyguard—her ugly ass bodyguard.

  But no one minds us. Not when they are all caught up in their own little bubble. And I take advantage of that to tug her to me, finding an exit and taking her down a dark corridor and towards an exhibit that isn't open to the party.

  "Bass?" she asks, that soft voice of hers only going straight to my cock and making me harder than I've been in my entire life.

  "I have you, sunshine," I rasp just as I push her towards the wall, my hands on her waist as I lower my head to taste her lips.

  The entire area is dark, the only source of light coming from some exhibit cases in the middle of the room.

  Still, I easily find my way around her body, my palms molding to the contour of her ass.

  "This feels so wicked, Bass," she giggles as I make my way down her neck, kissing and licking at the flesh until she's breathing hard, her own hands moving down my shoulders as she keeps me glued to her side.

  "I want to taste you," I speak against her skin. I have to make a conscious effort to slow down, my desire for her too overwhelming.

  Fuck, but I've never reacted like this to anyone in the past. Her presence is an instantaneous aphrodisiac, my body always primed for hers.

  "Taste me?" she asks on a breathless tone, almost uncertain of what I mean.

  I slowly bring my hand up her thigh, caressing her leg as I li
ft up her dress.

  "A taste of your sweet little pussy, that's all I want."

  For now. But I don't say that out loud. Because fuck knows I want more. So much more and in such depraved ways that I'd only scare her. But I don't want her to think I'm a horndog and that I'm only in it for the sex.

  But I'm already salivating for a taste of her. Hell, I want to bathe in her scent, cover myself from head to toe in her aroma. For the first time, I'm curious what it's like to fully let go with a woman.

  "Oh, ok," she immediately agrees, but her voice seems anything but certain.

  "I need you to be sure of this, sunshine. Otherwise I'm not going to do something you don't want me to," I tell her, bringing my hand to her hair and brushing it from her face so I can see her expression.

  I've already made that mistake once. No way I'm going to repeat it.

  She turns those stunning eyes of hers towards me, her tongue peeking out to wet her lower lip.

  "I do. It's just..." she stammers, "I've never..." she doesn't finish the sentence, immediately looking away in embarrassment.

  Shit! No one's ever gone down on her.

  Fucking bastards!

  Though I'm incensed that no one's ever cared about her pleasure before, there's also a side of me that preens at being the one to give it to her. And I will. Fuck but I will. I'll make sure she comes on my face until I'm drowning in her juices.

  Pretty sure there's no death sweeter than that.

  "Ah, sunshine," I close my eyes at the new tidbit of information, satisfaction simmering inside of me. "I promise I'll take care of you," I continue as I swipe my thumb over her cheek.

  "I know you will," she replies affectionately, spreading my open palm to her face as she nuzzles her cheek to it. "You always do."

  Her trust in me floors me, especially when it's unwarranted, and I feel compelled to share a piece of myself with her too.

  "I'll let you in on a secret," I whisper, "I've never gone down on a woman before either."

  She gasps, her mouth parted in shock as she just stares at me.

  "You're lying," she exclaims.

  "Nope," I give her a lopsided smile. "Scouts honor," I wink at her.

  And it is the truth. That might make me an asshole, but I'd never wanted to before. Now... The more I look into her lovely face the more mesmerized I become by the sight of her.