God Of Vengeance (Kings Of Mafia)

Even though I want to spend the entire day in bed with Gabriella, I don’t. The women have been cooped up in the mansion for over a month, and it would be selfish of me not to take them out.

Especially now that Miguel’s been dealt with.

When I walk into the dining room with Gabriella beside me, Aunt Greta grins at us.

Carlo’s sitting where Gabriella used to sit, so she can take the chair to my left.

I pull out the chair and wait for her to take a seat before I press a kiss to the top of her head. Walking around the table, I place my hand on Mamma’s shoulder then kiss the scar on her temple.

“Morning, everyone,” I murmur as I take my seat.

When we’re all done greeting each other, I announce, “We’re going out after breakfast.”

Carlo lets out a groan. “Where?”

“Wherever the women want to go,” I mutter.

“Shopping?” Mamma asks, excitement in her tone. “Christmas is only two weeks away.”

Fuck. I forgot about the festive season.

“Shopping it is,” I agree.

“Forget breakfast,” Aunt Greta mutters as she climbs to her feet. “Come, Aida, let’s go get ready.”

Gabriella smiles as she watches the women rush out of the dining room then turns her attention to me. “I still have your credit card.”

“It’s yours to keep.”

Martha comes in with the breakfast, and she sets an omelet and bacon down in front of me.

“Thank you,” Gabriella murmurs when she receives her food. “It looks delicious.”

“What can I bring you to drink, Mr. Falco?” Martha asks.

“Coffee.”

“I’ll have coffee, too,” Gabriella says. She pats my thigh beneath the table, then adds. “Please.”

I stare at her for a moment before I realize she expects me to thank Martha.

My eyes flick to the housekeeper, and I mutter, “Thank you, Martha.”

Startled, her eyes widen. “Oh…ah…of course, Mr. Falco. You’re welcome.”

I watch my housekeeper flee from the dining room before picking up my utensils and cutting into the omelet.

Silence falls around us while we enjoy the meal, and when I’m done, I sip on my bitter coffee while I watch Gabriella pour two sugars into her beverage.

No wonder she tastes so sweet.

Carlo climbs to his feet. “I’ll get the guards ready.”

I nod, and when Carlo and Gerardo leave the dining room, I reach for Gabriella’s free hand.

“Is there anything you need to get?”

She nods, and after swallowing the sip she just took, she replies, “Just toiletries.”

Wanting no misunderstandings, I say, “You’ll use the credit card for everything.”

She nods again.

“Is your bank account in Sicily?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “It’s a dollar account with Payoneer.”

“We’ll have to open one for you in New York so I can transfer money to you.”

Her eyebrows lift. “For what?”

“For whatever you need.”

“Oh…but I have the credit card,” she argues.

I let out a sigh. “You’re mine, Gabriella, which means I’m going to provide for you. You need an investment in case of an emergency.”

“What…” she doesn’t finish her question, and her features tighten when she whispers, “In case you die.”

I nod because, contrary to popular belief, I’m not indestructible.

Her fingers tighten around mine, and she glances away from me.

“It won’t happen easily,” I say to put her at ease.

She sets her coffee cup down as she lowers her head. “I really hope not.”

“Come here,” I order as I scoot my chair backward.

She gets up, and I pull her onto my lap. Taking hold of her chin, I nudge her face so she’ll look at me.

“I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Okay,” she whispers before wrapping her arms around my neck.

I hold her tightly while it sinks in that it upsets her a lot to think of me dying.

More love pours into my chest, and I press a kiss to her shoulder and another to the side of her neck.

“Look at me.” She pulls back, and when her eyes lock with mine, I say, “I have the whole Cosa Nostra behind me. It will take one hell of an army to overthrow me.”

She brings her hand to my jaw and presses a soft kiss to my mouth. “I just don’t want to lose you. You’re the first place that feels like home.”

Christ. My heart.

I close the distance between our faces and kiss her tenderly, but then we’re interrupted when Mamma and Aunt Greta come rushing into the dining room.

“We’re ready … oh dear … we can wait,” Aunt Greta says before pushing Mamma back to the door.

There’s a confused expression on my mother’s face as she asks, “Why?”

“They’re kissing,” Aunt Greta whispers.

I let out a chuckle as I lift Gabriella off my lap. We get up, and taking her hand, I head to the doorway. “Let’s go.”

When we walk out of the house, five SUVs are waiting out front.

“We’re in the third SUV,” I say.

Aunt Greta climbs into the second one, and as Gerardo leads Mamma to the fourth one, I feel a twinge in my heart.

Now that I’m engaged to Gabriella, she takes precedence over my mother. I wish I could have them both with me, but the risk is too high.

With us separated, some of us might survive during an attack.

I let Gabriella climb into the backseat before I slide in beside her.

“Why are your mother and Mrs. Accardi taking different cars?” she asks.

“It’s a precaution,” I explain.

Carlo gets in behind the steering wheel, and Dante, one of my other guards, takes the passenger seat.

With fourteen guards to protect us, the convoy of SUVs drives toward the gates. When they open, we head down the narrow road that’s lined with trees.

“Where are we?” Gabriella asks.

“Shelter Island. We have to take a ferry to get to Long Island.”

She lets out a burst of laughter. “Still don’t know where I am.”

I pull out my phone and bring up a map of the area to show her. “We’re here.”Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

“It looks far from Manhattan,” she mentions.

“That’s why I take the helicopter.”

Relaxing into my side, she glances out the window. “It’s quiet out here.”

“That’s the plan,” I mutter.

She glances up at me. “Do you ever host parties at the mansion?”

“The other four heads of the Cosa Nostra come over for a poker game occasionally. Mostly, we meet in Manhattan. I have another house and a penthouse there.”

“Is that where you stay when you’re not with us?” she asks.

I nod, my eyes searching through the trees as we drive toward the ferry.

“Only a few people know where the mansion is situated,” I mention.

“Who?”

“The other heads. The guards. My aunt on my father’s side and Stefano.”

A frown forms on her forehead. “Will Stefano be at the wedding?”

I shake my head. “No. The last thing I want is family visiting when I marry you.”

“Me too,” she agrees.

“After the wedding, I want all the guests gone as soon as possible,” I mutter.

So I can be alone with my wife.

My wife.

I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her tightly to my side.

“We’re getting married before Christmas,” I announce.

“That’s less than two weeks,” she gasps.

“Two weeks too fucking long,” I mutter.

I’ll have to invite the other heads over to introduce them to Gabriella.

So much for resting.

“What the hell was I thinking,” I growl to Carlo.

“You tell me,” he mutters before letting out a sigh. “You’re the one who decided to bring them shopping.”

We’re following the women like two lost fucking puppies as they move from one store to the next. The guards keep taking turns carrying the parcels to the SUVs, and I start to worry there won’t be enough space.

“Dio!” I hear Gabriella gasp, and my eyes flick to the outfit she’s staring at.

I walk closer, taking in the sheer body suit the mannequin is wearing. There are meager strips of fabric covering the breasts and pelvic area.

It’s fucking sexy.

My eyes flick back to Gabriella’s face, and I start to shake my head. “Over my dead body.”

She takes my hand and gives me a pleading look. “I’ll pair it with a jacket. All the important parts will be covered.”

Christ.

Letting out a sigh, I give in and nod.

“Thank you!” She wraps her hand around the back of my neck, and standing on her toes, she pulls me down so she can kiss me before rushing into the store.

Carlo lets out a chuckle, and when I shoot him a glare, he stops and pretends to search the area for any threats.

By the time we leave the mall, I’m fucking tired and it’s already dark.

But my women are happy.

When I’m back in the SUV with Gabriella beside me, I ask, “Did you enjoy the trip?”

“So much!” She rubs her hand up and down my thigh, and I revel in how good it feels. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my little spitfire,” I murmur before I relax against the seat and close my eyes.

Gabriella links our hands together and wraps her other arm around my waist as she leans into my side.

She doesn’t try to make conversation as we drive home but just holds me, and like the night before, I find a sense of peace having her next to me.

Somehow, she has the power to help me recharge after an exhausting day.