God Of Vengeance (Kings Of Mafia)

I’m going to lose my mind.

I keep alternating between worrying and feeling angry because Damiano won’t tell me what he plans to do with me.

I’ve been at the mansion for three weeks, and even though I love spending time with Mrs. Falco and Mrs. Accardi, the uncertainty is eating me alive.

It doesn’t help that Damiano hasn’t been home for the past twelve days.

The man laid a life-altering kiss on me, only to disappear.

Earlier this week, it took all my courage to call him, but he was so abrupt over the phone I couldn’t get an answer from him.

And I don’t have the guts to call him again.

Suddenly, a hand settles on my shoulder, making me startle.

“Sorry, cara,” Mrs. Accardi says. “You’ve been so quiet we wanted to check on you.”

She helps Mrs. Falco take a seat on my balcony, where I’ve been sitting for hours contemplating my uncertain future.

I straighten in my chair, releasing the hold I have on the blanket that’s wrapped around me.

Instantly, the early winter chill sweeps over my body, reminding me I need warmer clothes.

Mrs. Falco lifts an eyebrow, then says, “Out with it.”

“With what?” I ask.

“What has you hiding in your bedroom?”

Mrs. Accardi’s gaze inspects my face, her features tight with concern.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” I say to put them at ease.

Mrs. Falco reaches her hand in my direction, and I quickly lean forward to take it.

“Cara, tell us,” she insists. “We might be able to help.”

I suck in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, then I admit, “Damiano hasn’t told me what he plans to do with me.”

“Why does it worry you so much?” Mrs. Accardi asks. “Don’t you like visiting with us?”

“Oh no,” I exclaim. “I love spending time with you. I just wish I knew what was in store for me.”

“That’s understandable,” Mrs. Falco murmurs. “I’ll talk to him when he gets home.”

Surprised by her words, I ask, “He’s coming home?”

“Eventually.” She gives my hand a squeeze before pulling away.

“You don’t have to talk to him. I don’t want him thinking I complained to you.”

Because that will only land me in a world of trouble.

We hear the sound of a helicopter, and my head snaps in the direction of the lake.

“That must be Damiano now,” Mrs. Falco says as she climbs to her feet. “Greta, help me to the veranda so I can greet him.”Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

“Thank you for checking in on me,” I murmur, my eyes darting between the women and the lake.

“Of course, cara. We expect to see you at dinner,” Mrs. Falco says.

“Okay.”

I watch as Mrs. Accardi leads her through my bedroom and out the door, then I turn to face the scenic view of the lake.

The sound of the helicopter grows louder, and when it comes into view, a freezing wind slams into me and I wrap my arms around myself.

The aircraft lands, and a moment later, Damiano and Carlo climb out. As they walk across the lawn, Damiano glances up and our eyes meet for a few seconds before he looks away.

The memory of the kiss bombards my mind, and a blush creeps up my neck while my eyes follow him until he disappears from my sight.

Picking up the blanket, I walk into my bedroom and shut the door behind me to keep the wind from coming in.

I fold the blanket and set it down on the foot of my bed. Glancing around the bedroom, I let out a sigh.

All I want to do is talk to Damiano, but I also don’t want to attack him the second he walks into the mansion.

Now that he’s home, my stomach begins to spin with nerves – from the kiss and wondering what he’s decided to do with me.

I walk to my bedroom door, and opening it, I step out into the hallway.

Should I go downstairs?

I’m still trying to decide what to do when Damiano comes around the bend in the hallway. His eyes lock with mine, and my mouth instantly grows dry.

Without a word, he stalks past me and enters my bedroom. I follow him inside and a frown forms on my forehead when he heads for my closet.

He looks at my clothes, and my eyebrows fly up when something close to a growl rumbles from him.

He reaches into his pocket, and when he pulls his wallet out, I’m very confused by his actions.

Damiano takes a black card from the wallet and holds it out to me. “Get warm clothes for the winter and plan the wedding. There will only be fourteen guests. Excluding us.”

“Wedding?” I gasp.

He stalks closer, and grabbing my hand, he shoves the credit card into my palm.

When he walks away from me, I ask, “What wedding? To who?”

“Ours,” he mutters before disappearing into the hallway.

What?

An intense wave of pins and needles spreads over my body as I gasp.

Holy crap.

It takes a stunned few seconds before I rush after him.

Catching up to Damiano as he walks across the landing that leads to the right wing of the mansion, I say, “You can’t just tell me we’re getting married and stalk away.”

Not even looking at me, he says, “I’m tired, Gabriella.”

When he steps into his bedroom, I stop in the doorway. “Are we going to talk at some point?”

His eyes flick to mine as he loosens his tie. “Tomorrow.”

My gaze drifts over his handsome face, and seeing the exhaustion etched deep into his features, I think to ask, “Are you okay?”

Looking surprised by my question, he stares at me for a moment, then replies, “I’m fine. It’s just been a rough two weeks.”

Nodding, I take a step backward. For a moment, I hesitate, then I ask, “Can I make you some chamomile tea? It will help you relax.”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m just going to shower and sleep.”

“Okay.”

I turn around and start to walk away, but stop when he says, “Gabriella.”

I glance over my shoulder.

“The credit card doesn’t have a limit. Take a group of guards with you when you leave the mansion to get clothes. The winters are much harsher here than in Sicily, and you need to dress warmer.”

My fingers brush over the credit card, and a smile curves my lips as I say, “Thank you.”

He nods before shutting the door between us.

Instantly, the thought hits me like a ten-pound hammer.

I’m marrying Damiano Falco.

Caro Dio.

I rush back to my bedroom and stare at the name printed on the credit card.

Mr. DC Falco

Wow.

I struggle to process the new developments, and in a daze, I walk to my bed, where I sink down on the edge of the mattress.

I’m marrying Damiano.

Before he kissed me, he said he never changes his mind once he’s made a decision, so nothing will stop this wedding from happening.

I’m going to be the wife of the Capo dei Capi.

Holy crap.

I sit in total shock until the room starts to grow dark. Only then does it sink in that I won’t have to go back to Sicily. I never have to see my parents again.

Intense relief spreads through me, and my eyes drift shut.

Grazie.

Life has been really good here at the mansion, and with a little luck, it won’t change much once I marry Damiano.

I’ll get to spend more time with Mrs. Falco and Mrs. Accardi.

The mansion will become my home.

Opening my eyes, a smile begins to tug at the corner of my mouth until I remember the kiss Damiano gave me.

He wanted to know if I can have children, so he probably expects heirs.

My eyebrows lift when I realize what that entails.

Sex.

I always knew I’d have to share a bed with whoever I married, but knowing Damiano is the man who will take my virginity makes a wave of nervousness crash over me.

At least I’m not repulsed by the idea like I was with Stefano.

Sucking in a deep breath, I stand up and place the credit card next to my phone before leaving my room and heading downstairs for dinner.