Page 57

And for the second night in a row, I stormed out of the kitchen. But instead of the silence that followed me yesterday, the sound of something crashing, probably an overturned chair, reached my ears.

“Bianca!” Sandro growled my name. Each syllable was punctuated with exasperation. Even if I couldn’t hear his footsteps because of his specialized stealth footwear, I quickened mine.

Before I reached the bottom of the staircase, fingers grabbed my waist and he lifted and tossed me over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” I pounded his back.

“No.”

He was starting up the stairs when I spotted the front door opening and in my upside-down state, I saw Raffa and Griselda walk in flanked by men in suits I figured were like his Secret Service security. If there was any doubt of Raffa’s importance in the family, the fact that he had an entourage of men protecting him erased my questions.

I would have panicked thinking that they were coming for Sandro, but Sticks and Miller were with them.

Sandro angled their way, and I could feel his whole body freeze. He backed down the steps to face them.

“Put me down.” I was glad I was wearing joggers and not a skirt or my ass would be on display. Speaking of which, Sandro hugged my legs with a hand over my ass in what felt like a brand of possession.

“Quiet,” he growled to me, and then, “What’s this all about, Raffa? I thought we agreed to talk about this shit tomorrow.”

I stilled. I promised cooperation in front of the others, so I fumed in silence.

“Yes, but Griselda seems to think you’re not keeping your end of the bargain.”

“And what is that?”

“You’re not staying in the same room, so I assume you haven’t consummated the marriage.”

That nosy bitch.

“I was giving Bianca a chance to adjust, but as you can see, you’re interrupting our foreplay.”

I didn’t know whether to be mad or laugh. But I could definitely hear Sandro’s men laugh.

“So, is that all?” Sandro continued. “Because I’ve got all this aggression from what happened tonight andmy wife…” He gave my ass a swat. I inhaled sharply. “Is being a brat and I think she’s had enough time to adjust.”

Oh, he was going to hear it from me.

Raffa gave a pained laugh. It seemed Sandro embarrassed him. “I’m sorry for interrupting, nephew. Yes, what happened tonight can wait. Take care of your wife. Get her pregnant, even better.”

“You simply believe them?” Griselda shrieked.

“Shut up, Griselda,” Sandro snapped. “You’re forbidden to step foot into this house without permission from Bianca or me. Do I make myself clear?”

“Fuck you, Alessandro.”

“Sorry, that’s my wife’s job.”

Again. My conflicting emotions. Pleased and annoyed.

“Let’s go, before you humiliate yourself further,” Raffa said. He could only be addressing Griselda.

Sandro moved toward the entrance. It was getting uncomfortable on his shoulder. He slammed the door and I heard him turn the lock.

“You can put me down.”

“Hell no, I enjoy having you at my mercy.”

I was too furious to be turned on. Seeing Raffa only brought back the image of Dad’s worried face. All my life, my father’s main objective was to keep our family mafia adjacent and not actually in it. I was going to be his biggest disappointment.