Becoming the Street Boss: A Zanetti Famiglia Novel

by Faiman, Hayley

  I have none. I can’t tell her the truth, but I don’t have a lie to give her either. I’ve never had to do this before. I’ve never had to think of another person’s feelings. I didn’t think that I would give a fuck about hers either, not until this exact moment.

  “Probably not,” I say, lifting my gaze from the towel to her eyes.

  She’s turned her head to the side and her eyes are on me. Those big blue eyes are so fucking beautiful, so wide and so innocent and yet, they aren’t that innocent.

  I watch as she sucks her lips in and lowers her lids. “Was it another woman? I know I have no right to ask, but I’m asking.”

  “Look at me,” I softly demand.

  She lifts her gaze to meet mine, releasing her lips. “You think I would be so cold that I would leave our bed, on our wedding night, and go to another woman?”

  Her eyes search mine and it’s clear that she does think I could be that cold. It’s perfectly clear in this moment that we know absolutely fucking nothing about one another.

  She doesn’t know shit about me, about my past and my life and all I know is that her father was a Made Man who was whacked, her sister was sold into a life of whoring, and her mother was whacked for selling off her sister.

  Shaking my head, I lift my hand and run my fingers through my hair, tugging on the ends slightly. “I wouldn’t do that, dolcezza. I had business that I had to take care of, nothing more, nothing less. It was unavoidable.”

  “Okay,” she exhales.

  “Okay?” I ask.

  She sits up and nods once. “Yes, okay. I believe you. I just wish you would have told me, that’s all.”

  My lips turn up into a small smile. Slipping off my gun holster, I don’t miss the way her eyes watch the movement closely. Next, I take off the rest of my clothes, leaving them in a messy pile on the lounger. Pippa gasps when I sink down into the hot tub completely naked.

  Reaching for her, I pull her into my lap, wrapping my arms around her. One is around her waist, the other around her hips. Burying my face in her neck, I inhale her scent, closing my eyes before I let out a long exhale. I’m fucking exhausted.

  “I’ll order you some breakfast when you’re ready to get out of here,” I whisper against her skin.

  “I’m fine.”

  I hum against her skin, my tongue tasting her neck. “You’re too skinny. You need to eat.”

  She lifts her hand and places her palm against my arm, giving me a light shove. Lifting my head, I frown up at her. Arching a brow, I wait for her to say something. She shakes her head, her lips turned down into a small frown.

  “I’m not too skinny,” she breathes.

  Sliding my hand from her waist, up the center of her back, I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck. Gently, I tug her face down so that I can kiss her. Touching my mouth to hers, I taste her lips before I release her, but I keep her close to me.

  “You’re too skinny, dolcezza. I like curves, and I gotta say the potential yours have makes me ache to see what they could be if you enjoyed some pasta and tiramisu every now and then, maybe a cannoli, perhaps a sfogliatelle?”

  “Sfogliatelle?” she breathes.

  “You like that?”

  She hums, her lips brushing mine. “Love it,” she sighs against my mouth.

  Gripping the back of her neck tighter, I growl, my cock stiffening against her hip. I know her cunt has to hurt. I wasn’t as gentle as I should have been last night. Granted, I wasn’t as rough as I could have been, but I definitely could have handled her with a bit more finesse.

  “I’ll buy you a dozen to make up for leaving you last night,” I say, grinning against her lips.

  She pulls back slightly and shakes her head a little. “Please, don’t.” She laughs softly.

  “Buy you whatever you want, dolcezza.”

  Her smile dies immediately and she pushes against me, trying to get away. My grip against her hip and neck tighten, keeping her right where I want her, right where she belongs.

  “The fuck, Pippa?” I snap.

  Pippa’s brows snap together and her blue eyes meet mine. They’re full of fire, swimming with piss and vinegar. I don’t ask her again, I wait for her to tell me what the fuck is going on.

  I’m thankful that our small stare down doesn’t last long before she finally breaks, shifting her eyes to the side before she brings them back to meet my own.

  “You can’t fix everything with money. I don’t want it. I don’t want any of it.”

  “Yeah? You sure about that? Got a whole new wardrobe, spent a fuckin’ mint on the wedding, on that dress. Dropping twelve grand a night on this room to give you a nice couple of days and you haven’t bitched about this place. So, are you fucking sure?”

  “That’s not fair. I had no choice in the room, I would have picked a cheaper dress, the girls didn’t even tell me how much it was. They just talked to the owner without me. I never wanted all this flash, Massimo. I’ve never wanted a Made Man because I didn’t want to be thrown money and treated like shit.”

  “Yet here you fucking are. You came to Arlo because you were goddamn homeless. You need money, everyone needs money. Don’t act like you’re above a goddamn thing, Pippa.”

  She tries to jerk away from me again, but I don’t allow it. She’s got to fucking learn that I’m the one in charge here. She can have her little tantrum, but she doesn’t get to pull away from me while doing it. She’ll be right here in my lap, because when it’s over I’m going to fuck her—every time.

  “That’s not fair. Of course, everyone needs money, but I don’t want it in abundance, and I don’t want it in lieu of a real relationship. I don’t want it to assuage your guilt.”

  “My guilt? What do I have to feel guilty about? What are you accusing me of?”

  She presses her lips together, dropping her gaze before she flicks her eyes back up to meet mine. “I don’t know, what do you have to feel guilty about?” she asks.

  I shake my head once, my lips twitching before I let out a bark of sarcastic laughter. “Not a goddamn thing, Pippa. Not a goddamn thing.”

  Pulling her resisting face toward mine, I tilt my head to the side and crash my mouth against hers. She presses her lips together, my tongue slides across the seam of her lips, tasting her.

  Moving my hand from her hip, I tweak her nipple. She opens her mouth in a gasp and that’s when I slip my tongue inside of her, tasting her. Almost immediately she melts toward me and that’s when I know that she’s not mad, she just doesn’t quite know how to feel.

  This is new, for her and for me. We will find our way and right now, she’s trying to decide how she’s going to be married to a Made Man when she made her mind up about us a long time ago. She’s determined to hate us all, but I guarantee, as she arches her back closer toward me, whimpering in my mouth, that feeling is going to fade faster than she realizes.

  PIPPA

  Massimo and I spend the rest of the day being absolutely lazy. I can’t shake the feeling and thoughts from the back of my mind that he was out doing something yesterday that would hurt me.

  The facts are, we don’t know each other. I don’t know if he has a woman other than me. I don’t even know his parents. I don’t know shit. My mind spins all day long. We eat breakfast together, Massimo takes a nap. We eat lunch together, then relax poolside, and now it’s dinnertime.

  I’m still wearing my bikini, only throwing a sheer gold cover-up over the top. “I’m going to order up some dinner,” Massimo calls out.

  I’m in the kitchen, the fridge open and reaching for a bottle of water. Taking it out, I close the fridge and turn to face him. He’s standing on the other side of the bar, his head tipped down as he looks at the binder that the hotel has left for us.

  “Okay,” I murmur, twisting the top off of my water before I lift the bottle to my lips.

  I keep my gaze on Massimo. He doesn’t look up, he doesn’t even acknowledge me at all. His focus is on the menu, then he reaches for the phone
and I watch as he calls down to order the food. Never once does he lift his eyes to look at me or ask me what I want to eat from the menu.

  Turning away from him, I head upstairs to shower and change into something suitable to eat dinner in. Starting the water, I wonder if this is my future. He claims that he’s not like the man that I assume him to be, but every single action proves my assumptions completely correct.

  Closing my eyes as soon as the warm water washes over my face, I let out a sigh. What have I done? I could have sold my virginity and already be looking for a place of my own while trying to figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.

  Instead, I’m standing in a shower of a twelve thousand dollar a night room, on my honeymoon, if that’s what you want to call it. I’m married to a stranger who doesn’t even give a fuck what I want for dinner. He disappears after he fucks me for the first time for hours and I’m supposed to accept his excuse of… business.

  Once I’m clean, the scent of sunscreen washed from my skin, along with the sweat from laying out all day off and on. Wrapping a towel around my wet hair, I wrap another white fluffy towel around my body before I make my way back into the bedroom.

  My entire body comes to a halt when I see Massimo sitting in the chair in the corner. He has his elbows on his knees, his fingers clasped together and his chin resting on them as his eyes flick to me.

  “Massimo,” I say, keeping my voice low, but unable to hide my hesitancy.

  “What are you doing?” he asks.

  I look down at my body, then turn my head back to look at the bathroom before I shift my eyes back to meet his. “I took a shower,” I say.

  Though I don’t understand why I even have to say the words, it’s pretty fucking obvious what I’m doing. He shakes his head, as though that’s not the answer he expected nor wanted. I decide to stay quiet and wait. He’ll eventually have to tell me what he’s talking about, what he expects from me. I’m not a mind reader.

  “You’re upset. You walked away from me. Left your water on the counter and just, walked away.”

  Pressing my lips together, I fight the urge to tell him exactly why I walked away, not wanting to risk sounding a little too crazy. Clearing my throat, I shrug a shoulder.

  “You looked busy, I decided to get ready for dinner.”

  He nods his head once, his eyes still focused on mine. “I looked busy,” he repeats.

  Rolling my lips, I stand with my towel still wrapped around me as I wait for what he’s going to say next.

  “Pippa,” he sighs. “There is something you’re not telling me. I’d like you to tell me now, please,” he says. His voice is low, it sounds dangerous, and a chill runs up my spine.

  Making my way over to the bed, I sink down, sitting on the edge and twist my fingers in my lap. Inhaling deeply, I let my breath out on an exhale and lift my head before I shift my gaze up to meet his own.

  He looks like he’s patiently waiting for me to speak, but I have no doubt that inside, he’s seconds away from losing that cool that he’s attempting to hold on to. I sigh, then shake my head once before I finally speak.

  “I want to trust you. I married you, I needed security and you provided that for me and I’m grateful, but I want this to be real.”

  He smirks, shaking his head, then stands. I watch, my lips parting as he makes his way toward me. He sinks down to his haunches in front of me, lifting his hands, he curls his fingers around the sides of my thighs.

  “This is real. It cannot get more real than what we have, Pippa. You will not know every move that I make. Sometimes I will leave you in the night, sometimes I will be gone for hours without contact. You will need to accept that and not always assume the worst, yeah?”

  Rolling my lips, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as I give him a short nod of my head. “I want to be okay with it all. I’m sorry that I’m not, yet.”

  His hands dance up my sides until he reaches the towel wrapped around my hair. Slowly he unwinds the terry cloth, tossing it to the side as my wet hair falls all around my shoulders with a soft slap to my bare skin.

  “You will be,” he rasps. “I agreed to this because I couldn’t imagine you sharing yourself with another man, let alone a line of them,” he explains as he wraps his hands around the sides of my neck. “You were meant to be mine the moment those big blue eyes of yours met mine in the SUV, dolcezza.”

  “Why me?” I ask softly.

  He smirks. “Why not you, Pippa? You’re breathtakingly beautiful. You’re soft and sweet, you laugh freely and it’s mesmerizing.”

  My lips twitch into a small smile. “I don’t,” I mumble.

  “You do. I’ve seen you from afar with friends in cafés. I shouldn’t admit that I’ve kept tabs on you, but I have and everything I’ve ever seen has been a beauty that I know without a doubt I am not worthy enough to have to myself.”

  “Except you do.”

  His eyes twinkle and I think that he’s finally going to smile and that it will reach his eyes, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans forward and his lips touch mine briefly.

  “I do. Now, put on something sexy. I’m sure Lenora set you up with more than just the number you wore last night.”

  “For dinner?” I breathe.

  He hums. “I want to look at my gift all evening before I unwrap it,” he rasps against my lips.

  Chapter Fourteen

  PIPPA

  Walking into the townhome in Brooklyn Heights, I wonder immediately how he has everything that’s here. Not only does this building have its own one-car garage, it is three stories with so much space, I don’t think I’ll ever feel even slightly claustrophobic.

  The outside is brick with black accents, which also spill over into the interior, black accents with warm woods and white walls and ceilings are everywhere and I love it. The townhouse immediately feels like home.

  “Your things have already been brought over from the club,” Massimo announces as soon as I walk into the master bedroom. “You can decorate any way you like, keep in mind, I like the mattress and the sheets.”

  He sounds so matter of fact, almost bored as he tells me about the sheets and mattress. Turning my head, I look over my shoulder at him and watch as he starts to unpack his small bag.

  “Massimo?”

  He stops, lifting his head slightly, his eyes finding mine as I turn around to face him completely. Massimo doesn’t speak, his brow arching after a couple of seconds when I don’t say anything immediately.

  “Who decorated this place?” I ask.

  He lets out an exasperated sigh before he goes back to separating his clothes from his small bag, obviously annoyed with me. I wait for him to answer me, knowing that he’ll do it on his own time, if at all.

  Massimo is a pretty cliché Made Man in a lot of ways. I’m honestly not seeing this big difference between the new generation and the old like Luciana and Nicola claimed. Massimo is exactly as I thought that he would be.

  He orders my food for me, demands that I eat what he’s given me. He makes demands of my body, does what he wants when he wants. Goes where he wants when he wants as well.

  He doesn’t tell me much about himself, doesn’t always answer my questions, but demands that I answer his. Throws money in my face and expects me to be overly grateful that he provides this life for me.

  Maybe things will change as we get to know one another, maybe he’ll show me a different side of him eventually, but right now, I don’t see it. Not at all. He’s just like every other Made Man I have ever heard about or seen in my life.

  “Mia and a couple of her girls did it for me. A couple of the guys have used interior designers, but they were booked and I needed it done,” he explains as if he hadn’t just told me that a Madam and call girls decorated his home.

  “How many of them spent the night here?”

  He laughs, though it’s without humor. “Not your fuckin’ business,” he snaps.

  “It’s not?” I ask softly.

&
nbsp; He shakes his head, his obsidian gaze finding mine. I watch as his lips form a thin line and a muscle jumps in his cheek. “It’s not,” he confirms. “Nothing about that part of my life is a wife’s business. You need to learn your place, dolcezza.”

  Crossing my arms just beneath my breasts, I tilt my head to the side, my face suddenly feeling hot. “Don’t call me sweetheart when you’re laying down the law and being an asshole.”

  His head jerks as his eyes widen. “An asshole?” he asks. “Should I ask you about every detail of your past?”

  “It would be painfully short considering you know that I was a virgin two days ago,” I say, reminding him, though I doubt he needs it.

  I watch as he licks his lips, then shakes his head. “I fucked the girls down at the casino. Is that what you want to hear? None of them slept here, in fact, you’ll be the first woman to ever be in that bed. I go to the women I fuck and leave as soon as it’s over. There is no tenderness, I don’t care about their feelings, they provide a service and I pay for that service.”

  Sucking my lips in, I take a step back, stumbling slightly before I right myself. “Okay,” I breathe.

  “You would have been one of them, Pippa. You would have been fucked, then left, providing a service for faceless men like me, clients.”

  “Stop,” I rasp.

  He doesn’t realize that his words, they don’t hurt me for myself. Instead, all I can do is think about Bellarosa being one of those women, she was younger than me and I can’t fathom the life that she was forced to lead.

  Massimo closes the distance between us, lifting his hand, he cups my jaw and looks directly into my eyes. “You are not one of those women, you never will be. You are the wife of a Made Man and like it or not, you must learn to behave as one.”

  Licking my lips, I want to look away from him, turn my back on him—I want to run. I do none of those things. I keep my eyes focused on his dark ones and I wait for him to continue knowing that he’s not done.