The Italian

“Enrico.” I gasp. “Calm down.”

He doesn’t calm. He keeps his grip around Sergio’s neck and tightens it even more.

“Let’s go inside,” I urge.

Enrico glares at Sergio. I’m not sure if he’s about to completely lose it and actually strangle him for real.

“Enrico,” I repeat. “Let’s go… now.” I rub his back as a silent reminder that I’m here. He pushes Sergio back, releasing him from his vise-like grip. “Get out of my sight. Go downtown and look after the club. You’re not to come to my home or be near Olivia again.”

Sergio drops his head, his face filled with shame.

“Do you understand me?” Enrico barks.

“Yes, sir.”

Enrico glares at him, and I know he isn’t finished with this conversation, but right now, I need to diffuse this situation. I grab his hand and pull him away.

“Come on.”

Enrico walks inside, and I close the door behind us. His jaw is clenched and he’s raging mad. I look around at the Lake Como house. It’s familiar, grand, and beautiful. It feels like a long time since we’ve been here.

He takes his suit jacket off, and then jerks his tie hard as he removes it. He throws them both to the side. I watch him knowing this isn’t about Sergio. There is something else going on, I can feel it.

“Don’t worry about Sergio. Don’t let him get to you,” I say softly.

He storms past me to the bar, and with a shaky hand, he pours himself a drink. He tips his head back and drains his glass only to refill it straight away.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

He drags his hand down his face.

“Baby, talk to me,” I urge him.

He takes me into his arms and holds me tight—so tight, I may snap. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to. He needs my comfort. I can feel that need pouring out of him.

“Just work things. It’s nothing for you to worry about,” he eventually murmurs.

I slowly slide my hand down over his broad chest as I kiss him slowly. His eyes close at the contact. “You’re home now, Rici,” I whisper against his lips. “It’s okay, baby. Forget work.” I slide my hand down lower and cup his penis through his pants. I feel it slowly begin to grow. “Let’s get you relaxed, shall we?”

His face softens as he returns my kiss.

I undo his suit pants and slide my hand down to cup his balls. They’re heavy, hard, and engorged. “Look how full you are,” I whisper up at him as I give him a long stroke. “No wonder you’re stressed.”

His lips take mine and I can feel his stress begin to evaporate.

I stroke him slowly as we kiss. His breath is quivering, and I know he’s already close to the edge.

His hands move to my shoulders and he pushes me down to my knees. I smile as he slides his pants down a little. His large cock hangs heavily between his legs.

Begging… no, demanding my attention.

With my eyes locked on his, I slowly lick the pre-ejaculate that drips from his end. Hmm. Tastes good.

He hisses in appreciation. “Yes, Olivia.” His hand moves to the back of my head to hold me in place as his instincts take over. He wants in my mouth.

He wants it all in my mouth.

He grabs his dick at the base and brushes his end over my parted lips. He’s taunting himself, watching his cock with dark eyes as it brushes over me.

I smile up at him. He motions to push himself into my mouth and I tighten my lips. “Not yet,” I whisper.

I begin to fist him hard and fast, and he inhales sharply as he watches on. He pushes on the back of my head. He wants in.

I lick up his thick shaft, and his eyes roll back in his head. This is the best part about giving head: the anticipation.

Putting him through hell until I decide when he can have it.

“What do you want, baby?” I whisper.

“Suck me.”

I run my lips over his end, and he grabs the back of my head. I push back and resist.

“Ol-iv-i-a,” he purrs.

I take just his tip in my mouth, and I flick my tongue back and forth. His head tips back and he moans.

I smile around him. God, I love this. I love bringing him undone.

Never have I felt more powerful than when I am on my knees in front of Enrico Ferrara. The world stops. There is nothing else but his cock and my mouth.

I own him when I’m here and he knows it.

I take him deep into my mouth and I feel his legs nearly buckle beneath him. He instinctively pushes on the back of my head and I gag around him as his cock closes over my throat. I give him a subtle shake of my head.

“Too deep,” I moan.

His hands tighten in my hair as he struggles to regain control over himself. His chest rises and falls as he gasps for breath.

I continue to suck and lick to the sounds of his soft moans. He loves this.

This is his thing. Just five minutes ago he was ready to kill someone. I smile at the thought.

My mouth is Enrico Ferrara’s form of Xanax.

I suck harder and harder as I begin to fist him. He clenches and hisses, and then drags me to my feet before he throws me on the sofa. He flips me over so that I am on my knees, and he drags me to the edge of the seat. He lifts my skirt, pulls my panties to the side, and in one motion, he slides in deep.

I moan out in appreciation.

With his hands griped firmly on my hips, he pulls out slowly to let me get used to him. No matter how aroused he is, he never forgets his size and the real possibility that he could hurt me.

His hand roams over my back, and he grabs a handful of my hair to pull me back onto him. My neck stretches back toward his vice-like grip.

My eyes roll. God, I love it when he dominates me like this. He pulls out slowly and pushes in again.

And then he slams home hard.

The air is pushed from my lunges, and I cry out. His hand drifts to my shoulders as he pushes them down. He wants my ass in the air.

Total domination.

With my face pushed down into the sofa, he begins to ride me hard.

Our skin slapping together echoes around the room, and my eyes dart to the front door. Good God. At least ten men stand just on the other side of it.

Can they hear us?

He begins to pant, and I close my eyes and clench in a rhythm around him.

A move that I know drives him to the point of no return.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” he growls. “Come.” He pumps me hard. “I can’t stop. You need to come.”

I smile against the cushion. He can’t stand the thought of coming first. It’s his worst nightmare.

God, I love this man.

“Olivia!” he cries as he completely loses control. “Now. Fucking now.”

I clench and spiral hard as his deep guttural moan fills the room. He pumps me full of his semen. I can feel the heat as it leaves his body and enters mine. He moves me slowly to completely empty himself, and then he lifts me and falls onto the sofa in a seated position. He pulls me over him to straddle his lap. He slides his cock deep back into my body and kisses me softly.

This is the time that I love.

No matter how hard we fuck, no matter how animalistic we get with each other,

after we’re finished, he always puts himself back into me in a missionary position so he can kiss me.

Just him, me, and the love that we share. A perfect moment of clarity between us.

A tenderness that we only get from each other.

“I love you,” he whispers against my lips. My heart constricts.

Now… it’s time.

I pull back from our embrace. “Rici,” I whisper. “Ti amo.”

He smiles softly.

“I’m pregnant.”

His face falls.

“I don’t know how it happened, or if the timing is right.”

His eyes search mine.

“Is this okay?” I whisper, suddenly nervous.

He grabs me, pulls me to him, and he buries my head into his neck. “Of course, it’s okay, my love.” He pulls me back so he can see my face. “Are you sure?”

“I did a pregnancy test and it came back positive.”

His face breaks into a breathtaking smile. His eyes are filled with tears. “I love you so much, Olivia.” He kisses me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. A child… your child,” he whispers in awe.

“Our child.” I smile softly.

His face falls, as if he’s suddenly remembering something. “Oh dear God.”

“What?”

“I was so rough just now.” His hand goes to my stomach. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

I smile to myself. Never would I have imagined he would be worried about having rough sex.

“You were perfect. We are perfect.”

His hand spreads over my stomach and we both stare down at it.

A baby. Our baby.

So, so precious.

Jennifer

I put the earpiece into my ear and stare at the computer screen in front of me. “Are we on?” I ask.

The screen rolls and then flips open. I can see the six people on the other end of the conference call. The Carabinieri—the ones who assigned me to this mission—is made up of five men and one woman. They are the team who are determined to bring the Ferrara reign over Italy to an end.

“Hello, Jessica,” Alexander says.

It’s nice to be addressed by my real name for a change. I’ve never worked undercover before. It’s felt weird being called Jennifer all the time.

“Hello.” I smile. We have these phone conferences every two to three days. Today I’m excited. I have new information.

“How’s everything going?” Smithson asks.

“Great. I’ve made some progress since we last spoke.”

“How so?”

“Enrico and Olivia just became engaged. I pretended that I’m an event planner, which led to Olivia asking me to help her with the engagement party.”

“That’s fantastic.” Alexander smiles. “Great work. We need to plant bugs throughout the house as soon as possible. Did you manage to plant one in Olivia’s handbag yet?”

“No, unfortunately I haven’t been left alone with it long enough. Her friend Natalie was at the table when we had a coffee. It’s ready and waiting, though, so as soon as I get her alone, I’ll activate it. I’ve started wearing a body wire in case she slips up in general conversation. She knows everything. She’s no dummy.”

“Good, more than ever we need intel. We are so close to bringing him down—closer than ever before.”

“Has something new happened?”

“Yes.” They flick up the screen in front of them and a series of images. “Have you seen this man before?”

I study the images of two men having coffee in what looks like a café. “One looks familiar. The one with the lighter hair.”

“Yes, you would have seen him at times with Olivia. His name is Sergio Morelli. In the past, he’s been the kingpin in the narcotics arm of Ferrara. Ten years ago, he started out as the hitman for Stephano, but his business brain soon got him a promotion. He ran the Sicily and Roma cocaine circuit for years. We haven’t had any new intel on the drug situation for over eighteen months—not since Enrico took over. Not until this week.”

I keep looking over the images as I listen to their story. “What happened?”

“See this man he is having coffee with?”

I look at the images of an older man in a suit. Distinguished, he doesn’t appear to be Italian. “Yes.”

“This is Adolfo Rodriguez.”

My mouth falls open in surprise. “The Adolfo Rodriguez?” I gasp.

Alexander smiles smugly. “Yes, and you know what this means?”

Adolfo Rodriguez is the biggest cocaine supplier in the world. “Holy shit,” I whisper.

“Up until now, Adolfo has been untouchable. Nobody has seen him in public for years. It’s no coincidence that he’s in Milan now.”

Nerves swirl in my stomach. This case just became super important. I can’t fuck this up. “You think Ferrara is going back into drugs?” I ask.

“Sergio and Adolfo had this meeting, and three days later a large shipment of something arrived by water, which was unloaded directly onto Enrico Ferrara’s yacht in Monte Carlo.”

My eyes widen. “You think it was cocaine?”

“We’re sure of it, and by the size of the shipment, we’re talking a large multi-million-euro deal. It’s enough to put Ferrara away for a very long time. Thirty years, minimum”

“Wow,” I whisper.

“The yacht is being watched around the clock. Hopefully, you will get those wires in place before they try and move it and we are forced to close in. The more solid evidence we have, the cleaner the court case will be.”

I nod with renewed determination.

“Jessica, I can’t stress enough how important it is that you get some wires into their properties. We need this case to be watertight. Forty years of Ferrara’s crime hold over Italy will come to an end if you can come through on this. More than ever, this case is crucial.”

I force a smile, a fission of guilt running through me. I wish I didn’t like Olivia. It would be so much easier to ruin her life if she was a bitch.

But I knew what I was doing before I took this job, and Enrico is a low life criminal. In the long run, she’s better off without him. I’m actually doing her a favor by locking him up for life.

“What if they try and move the drugs before we get any evidence?” I ask.

“Then we have to close in, and we can charge him based on possession alone. But if we have extra incriminating information, it will only help us further.”

“Okay.”

“When is this engagement party?” Alexander asks.

“It’s next weekend. I’m going to need some help organizing it. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Let us handle everything. All of the catering staff will be undercover police. You will be well covered and completely safe. This is the perfect scenario. Good work, Jessica.”

I smile proudly. “Thank you.” I hunch my shoulders together. “I’ll report back tonight when I have some of the party details.”

“Have a nice day.” The screen goes black, and I stare at it for a moment.

Wow, shit just got real.

Enrico

I lie in the darkness and listen to Olivia’s regulated breathing.

My angel is sleeping peacefully.

What must that feel like?

She’s curled up on her side, facing away from me. Her head is on my arm and my other arm is around her, tucked up in between her breasts. I couldn’t be any closer.

But it’s never close enough.

Every time I close my eyes, I see the zipper of the body bag in the morgue slowly sliding down.

The pale blue face with the name Lucky Lombardi carved into it.

Her lifeless body kept in the freezer, as if she was insignificant—as if she didn’t matter.

I close my eyes, the horror too real to handle.

I inhale as I try to calm myself, to chase away this fear, the sheer terror that my Olivia is on his radar.

Our baby.

I get a vision of Olivia’s body floating in sea water, her pale blue face with the same sadistic carvings there, and her blonde hair floating on the surface.

She’s dead.

I scrunch my eyes shut to try and block it out.

Why do I keep seeing it? Why do I keep seeing visions of my Olivia in the sea? Is it just a product of my fear or a premonition? Either way, the vision is haunting me.

I’ve never been scared of the consequences of who I am. Not until now.

What if he gets to her? What if he tortures her?

What if she dies?

I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling.

We will kill Lucky Lombardi. The war has only just begun. Ten of his men have already lost their lives today, but until I see Lombardi’s lifeless body with my own eyes, I won’t relax.

I need a plan—something to keep Olivia safe.

I glance over at the clock and see that it’s 2:00 a.m. It will be 8:00 p.m. in New York. I slowly slide out of bed, throw on some boxer shorts, and walk downstairs to my office.

I scroll through my phone until I get to the name I’m searching for.

Gabriel Ferrara

My cousin.

Our grandfathers were brothers. As the second in line, his grandfather Emilio wasn’t committed to Italy. His passion was very different. He moved to New York City and opened Ferrara Media, which is now one of the most successful media empires in the world. Gabriel is the CEO.

We have the same blood, yet the life he lives is so very different to mine. We grew up on opposite sides of the world—my family in Italy and his family in New York—but we understand each other. A strange comradery has built between us over recent years.

We have both struggled with being Ferraras. Both struggled being the CEO of a family business we didn’t choose of our own accord.

Different ends of the spectrum.

Different businesses that are worlds apart.

The same goddamn battles.

Nobody gets it like we do.

We live with it every day. Like an insidious monster that sits on our shoulder, the pressures of expectation are heavy burdens to bear.

I dial his number and listen as it rings.

“Enrico.” His voice is filled with happiness. “Tell me someone died.”

I chuckle. We always say that we only get to see each other at funerals. “Not today. Hello, my friend.”

“It’s good to hear your voice. How are you?”

“Good. Engaged to be married.” I smile at the sound of those three words. Who knew it would ever feel so good to say out loud?

“What?” He gasps. “Engaged? Poor woman. Who is she?”

I laugh. “Her name is Olivia Reynolds, and she’s the most beautiful woman on the planet. Listen, I need a favor.”

“Name it.”

I exhale heavily. “I have some things going down here. A threat has been made on Olivia. A madman has threatened her life if I don’t do as he asks. He knows where she works. He knows everything about her. We are handling it, but not as fast as I would like.”

“Okay.” He listens.

“If I need to, can I send Olivia to you in the states? I may have to get her out of Italy in a hurry, but I need somewhere that I know she will be well guarded.”

“Of course. Send her. You know I have impeccable security.”

“Thank you.” I smile sadly. “How are you?”

“All right.” He pauses. “I have a lot to tell you when we catch up next.”

“And your family?”

“Are all well. Yours?”

“Good, everything is great, except for this madman murdering my working girls.”

“Jesus, Enrico.”

“I know.” I sigh. “Look, I’ll let you know if I’m sending her. Maybe this week for a few days.”

“I will guard her with my life, Enrico. You have my word.”

“Thank you.” I close my eyes. We both linger on the line, not wanting to hang up the call.

“Are you really all right?” he finally asks.

“As long as Olivia’s safe, I will be fine.”

“Take the threat out.”

“I will. He’s gone into hiding.” I get a vision of the name carved into her face, and contempt fills my every pore. “Once I find him, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“I look forward to hearing his screams.” He chuckles.

I smile. Gabriel is the only civilian I know who can deal with my lifestyle.

He gets it.

Nothing comes as a shock to him. He is a Ferrara, after all. “Thank you. I’ll let you know if I’m sending Olivia. If she does come, I may send her friend or her mother with her so that she’s not alone.”

“Send whoever you want. Speak soon.”

I hang up and sit in the silence of my office for a while. I go over the last forty-eight hours in my mind.

A whirlwind of emotions rush through me.

I’m marrying the love of my life. We’ve been blessed with a child. There’s so much love and light in my life, and yet all I can feel is an overwhelming fear that I’m about to lose everything.

An eerie sense of calm hangs in the air. I can feel it—like a storm brewing on a mountain ready to fall. Something is coming.

I close my eyes. Please… don’t let it be that.

Olivia. My darling Olivia.

“Rici?” I hear her call from the stairs. “Where are you, baby?”

“Here, my love.” I jump to my feet and rush out into the living area. I find her coming down the steps in her nightgown.

Her face lights up when she sees me. “I didn’t know where you were.”

“I had to take a call.” I put my arm around her and lead her back up the stairs. “Come… back to bed.” I kiss her temple. “We have a doctor’s appointment in the morning, remember?”

She looks up at me with a beautiful smile. “How could I forget?”

Olivia

I roll over in the darkness. It’s late… or should I say early? With the shutters down I have no idea. I hear a creak and I frown.

I know that creak.

That’s the creak of the bottom step.

I sit up in bed.

Someone’s in the house.