The Mafia King’s Doll

18



Angelo

Jesus fucking Christ.

While Big Ricky and Eddie dispose of the body, I sit down behind my desk.

I rub my hand over my face as I let out an angry huff. I didn’t mean to be so harsh with Vittoria, but the call came at the worst possible time.

She sounded fucking terrified.

I shake my head, wondering how the fuck I’m going to get Vittoria not to fear me.

Big Ricky comes back into the office. “What do you want me to do with the drugs?”

“Flush them,” I mutter.

Jacks, one of the bartenders, stole two grand to buy drugs, which was a stupid move on his part.

Like I’ve said before, I don’t make a habit of giving second chances.

My thoughts turn back to Vittoria and how scared she sounded over the phone.

I’ve never done relationships before, so I’m in uncharted waters.

Christ, my longest relationship is with Tiny and Big Ricky. They’re tough as nails, so I don’t have to worry about their feelings.

I let out a chuckle at the ridiculous thought.

Now, I have a skittish deer for a wife, and as intoxicating as the idea is, it’s also unnerving.

I seriously have to ease up on Vittoria. I can’t treat her the same as every other person in my life.

But, Christ, I’m not known for being gentle. How do I go about solving this problem?

“You look worried,” Big Ricky says as he takes a seat across from me. I let out a sigh. “It’s the whole married life thing.”

His eyebrow lifts, then he asks, “Can I be honest?” I gesture for him to continue.

“You practically bit Vittoria’s head off when she called. You should apologize.”

I let out a snort, but seeing Big Ricky is serious, I frown at him.

He gives me a grin, then says, “Don’t kill me, but I really think you need to be softer when dealing with her.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Softer? Me?”

He nods. “Here, you’re the boss, but at home, you’re her husband. She’s not just another employee.”

I let out a chuckle as I shake my head. “If I’m too soft on her, she’ll walk all over me.”

“No. If you’re too hard on her, she’ll never love you.” His words hit me square in the chest.

“Look.” He shifts closer to the table, his eyes locked on mine. “You chose this girl because she’s innocent and kind. Don’t force her to become a hard woman. If you don’t want her to change, you have to make her feel safe and secure with you.”

“Since when are you so good at giving relationship advice?”

He leans back in his chair, and with a smirk, he mutters, “I’ve learned how to handle the ladies from watching romance movies.”

Laughter bursts from me, which is rare. Standing up, I nod to the door. “Come on, we need to head to the restaurant.”

Putting in effort with my marriage, I make sure I’m home at five p. m. so Vittoria and I can get to know each other better.

Not seeing her in the living room, I head to the main bedroom, but she’s not there.

I quickly take a shower and change into a pair of sweatpants and a T- shirt before I go in search of my wife.

My wife.

A smile tugs at my mouth, and when I near the kitchen, a delicious aroma assaults me.

Christ, that smells good.

I find Tiny sitting by the island while Vittoria stands in front of the stove with her back to me.

I press my pointer finger to my lips, gesturing for Tiny to stay quiet, before quickly stepping out of the kitchen.

“I’ll be back in a second,” I hear Tiny say, and a moment later, he joins me in the living room.

“How’s she doing?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “It’s been a tough day. She’s been on edge ever since the call, and she refuses to take the new phone out of the box.”

“I’ve got this.” I tip my head toward the front door. “You can go.”

With a nod, Tiny leaves, and I head back to the kitchen. I lean my shoulder against a wall, and crossing my arms over my chest, I watch as Vittoria carefully tastes a sauce.

A small smile plays around her lips as she whispers, “Perfect.”

Pushing away from the wall, I walk toward her, and just as I come up behind her, she turns to the side.

She lets out a blood-curdling scream, and ducking to the right to avoid me, she loses her balance.

I react fast and grab hold of her so she doesn’t fall. Instinctively, I pull her against my chest, my arms wrapping around her.

She stands frozen in my hold, her breaths audible as they rush over her lips.

After a couple of seconds, she whispers, “Sorry. I didn’t know you were home.”

I lift my hand to her chin and nuge her face up so she’ll look at me, then turning my head, I say, “Kiss me hello.”

When she pushes onto her tiptoes, I lean down, and the moment her lips meet my cheek, there’s a burst of warmth in my heart.

You’re not the boss here. You’re her husband.

Vittoria takes a step away from me and glances at the stove. “Rita said you’re seldom home for dinner.”

My eyes drift over her pale face. “That was before I got married.” “Oh.”

I don’t miss the flash of disappointment on her face, and it hits me square in the chest.

Her eyes dart between me and the stove, then she asks, “Have you eaten?”

I shake my head. “Whatever you’re making smells mouthwatering.”

She cautiously moves closer to the stove. “I’m making gnocchi and chicken with a creamy pesto sauce.”

“Sounds good.” I take a seat at the island. “Tiny says you refuse to take the phone out of the packaging.”

She freezes again, and keeping her eyes on the pot of sauce, she says, “It’s expensive. I told him we should get something cheaper.”

“Vittoria.” Her eyes dart to me, and I tap my thigh. “Come sit.”

Her eyebrows pinch together, but she obeys. Her body is fucking tense as she sits down on my lap. I take hold of her chin again and nudge her face up.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Her gaze searches mine before she says, “I’m sorry about the call.”

“It’s okay.” Her floral scent drifts to me, and I almost lean in to kiss her but stop myself.

Jesus, I hate the no-kissing rule.

I let out a heavy breath before asking, “What can I do to make you feel comfortable with me?”Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

Worry creases her forehead. “I just need time to adjust. I’ll do better in the future.”

My hand moves to her cheek, and I lean a little closer. “You’re doing just fine, mia piccola cerviatta. I’m asking because I want to make things easier for you.”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows draw together while her eyes keep darting over my face. “It would be…” Her tongue darts out to nervously wet her lips. “It would help if I knew what to do and not to do so I don’t make you angry.”

Usually, I would get annoyed having to explain shit, but I suddenly possess a world of patience.

I shake my head. “I wasn’t angry with you.” She seems to relax a little, and I ask again, “What can I do to make things easier for you?”

She lets out a shaky breath. “Be less terrifying?”

A pleased smile spreads over my face. “Okay. I’ll focus on that. What else?”

Just like the night before, she stares at me as if I’ve grown two heads. Remembering she said, my smile made me seem more relatable, I keep my lips curved up.

Her eyes soften a little. “The smile helps a lot.”

“I’ll smile more.” I nod. “What else?”

Vittoria tilts her head while she keeps staring at me, then as if she’s approaching a bear, she carefully wraps her arms around my neck and gives me a hug.

“Hugs would be nice,” she admits, “They make me feel better.”

I squash her to me, and an unexpected groan rumbles from my chest.

God, she feels good in my arms.

“The food is going to burn,” she whispers near my ear. I let out a chuckle and reluctantly let go of her.

Caution still fills her eyes, but she looks less tense than when I got home.

Proud of myself, I watch as she continues to cook.

You did good, Angelo.


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