The Mafia's Mistress: Violent Redemption

CHAPTER THREE

“Where the heck have you been?” Madam Claudia barked at me the moment she saw me wandering around the corridor. I was lost, not knowing my way back to the room I was originally in due to how large the mansion was.

She walked over to me, saying, “We thought you had escaped and sent people searching for you. Where the heck have you been?” I was confused, not knowing what to say at that moment. Do I tell her what really happened? But if I did, would I get into trouble for that? How do I explain to her that I managed to have a one-night stand with a strange guy in the mansion?

Her eyes scanned me as she said, “Don Lorenzo would like to see you now, immediately. I wonder what trouble you’ve managed to get yourself into. Didn’t I warn you to do as you’re told? Why bother wandering around?” she asked, obviously annoyed.

I gulped, not knowing what to say at that moment. I rubbed my sweaty palms together, taking a deep breath before saying, “The drink you gave me yesterday was spiked. It made me wander around blurry, and I didn’t know what happened or where I ended up.” I lied—a very pathetic lie at that—but luckily for me, she didn’t press for more information. Her main concern was me seeing the Don.

“We’ll discuss that later, but for now, you have to see the Don,” she said, quickly fixing my hair and adjusting the dress I was wearing before adding, “I just hope you don’t get punished for being so reckless. It would’ve benefitted you more if you had just stayed where you were told to.”

With that, she walked out of the room, gesturing for me to follow her. I rubbed my sweaty palms together as I walked out of the room with her, my heart beating with fear as I took each step. I swallowed hard, trying to calm my nerves as I walked. My life was a mess—ever since I can remember, it’s been a mess—and right now, it just got worse. It felt like I couldn’t catch a break, unfortunately.

We finally arrived in front of Don Lorenzo’s room. She knocked on the door before looking at me, pushing it open, and saying, “Go in.” I looked at her for a moment, swallowed hard, then decided to follow her command.

I walked into the room, fear written all over my face. This was the room of my father's worst enemy, and I just ventured into it. The room was large. Was it a bedroom, an office, or a library? I couldn’t tell. One side had a nice, large king-sized bed; another corner had a nice office setup with a desk and chairs; and yet another corner housed big shelves filled with books. It wasn’t exactly what I imagined the room of one of the biggest Mafia and most dangerous lords to look like.

Then I heard the sound of a door opening behind me, and I quickly turned around. A man walked out of what seemed to be a bathroom. Just like the man from earlier, he was shirtless, wearing gray sweatpants, his hair wet as he wiped it with a towel. He didn’t seem to notice my presence at first.

He looked up at me, pausing his action of drying his hair as his eyes scanned up and down my frame. Had I managed to walk into the wrong room again? But how could I have entered the wrong room when Madam Claudia brought me here herself? Now, the man standing before me, just like the man from earlier, was a sight to behold. He was tall, his body muscular and tight in all the right areas. He also had a tattoo, this one covering his right chest down to his right arm like a sleeve. I gulped, just staring at him.

He was on the older side compared to the man from earlier—he looked like he was in his forties or so—but insanely attractive. His blue eyes stayed on me, his black wet hair with a streak of gray clinging to his face as water dripped down his chest, making him look like a hot meal just standing there waiting to be devoured.

I had sworn I didn’t like older men until this moment; if they make them this hot, then I definitely like older men. “You’re here,” he said casually, setting his towel aside as he picked up a black tank top, slipping it on before lifting his cigarette and blowing the smoke into the air. “Do you smoke?” he asked.

“No,” I replied while he didn’t say anything else. His gaze lingered on me. Who the heck is this man?

He took another drag of his cigarette, carefully studying me. I felt small under his scrutiny, lowering my eyes, unable to hold his gaze. “Raise your head, I want to see you,” he growled in a deep, low voice. I gulped, raising my head as I made eye contact with him.

He walked toward me, closing the little distance between us until he was towering over me. I grew nervous, lowering my eyes again and rubbing my sweaty palms together as I looked around for the nearest exit. I had walked into the wrong room again, and I needed to leave before I made another mistake.

Why does Don Lorenzo seem to have insanely attractive men in every corner of his house? Suddenly, he gently grabbed me by the jaw, lifting my head to make eye contact with him. My heart began racing as he said, “Your stepmother said you’d be older, but you look rather young. How old are you?”

My stepmother? What does he mean? “I’m 26,” I said, and I could see the immediate disapproval on his face. He stared at me intently before saying,

“Where did you go last night instead of coming to my room?” My eyes widened in shock. There’s no way… If I wasn’t mistaken, then this man standing in front of me was Don Lorenzo. How come?? He was certainly not what I had imagined him to be. “You look shocked,” he said coldly. I was standing uncomfortably close to my father's greatest enemy.

“I…I…I…” I stammered, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know. I took something and passed out right by a corner,” I lied. What else would a girl have done?

“Really?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered. His thumb brushed gently against the side of my face, his hand still gently holding my chin. I could almost feel his breath on me. His actions stirred something within me. His behavior remained calm before he said,

“I don’t like being lied to, little doll,” he said, and for some reason, that made whatever was stirring within me even more intense. Was I really this down bad? Feeling scared, I lied again,

“I’m…I…I’m not lying.” A small smirk graced his face, his thumb brushing lightly against my lips this time before he said,

“Then how come I saw you sneaking right out of my son’s room this morning?”