Page 23 of Claimed By the Possessive Mafia Prince

DARIO

T hat evening, we sit around tables in the open air, palm trees all around us, tea lanterns casting a soft yellow glow that mixes with the setting sunlight. Waitstaff carry around glasses of wine. Mother nudges me and nods across the clearing when Siena walks in.

A volcanic rumble moves through me when I see her.

She’s wearing a dress the same honey shade as her eyes, her hair down to her shoulders, flowy and attractive. The dress sparkles, like the way the water sparkles when the sun bounces across it.

Mother waves.

Across the table, Eddy frowns. “She’s going to sit with us?”

Mother glares at her brother-in-law. “Why not?”

Father looks between them, with a familiar expression on his face. He’s often had to come between Eddy and my mother to avoid an argument. Sitting beside my uncle, my godfather, Rocco, gives me a look. He doesn’t have to say anything for me to get his meaning.

This could go bad fast.

“She’s not one of us,” Eddy says.

“Maybe lay off the booze, brother,” father mutters. “You’re talking too loosely.”

“She’s almost here,” my mother snaps. “None of this talk, please.”

By ‘this talk’, she means anything that could hint we’re in the mob. When Siena arrives, I stand up and pull a chair out for her. Her eyes flit to the spot on my neck; when Mother saw the hickey, she insisted I cover it with foundation. We share a secret smile.

“Thank you,” Siena says, then looks around the table. “And thank you all for letting me join you.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Father says magnanimously. “Nothing is too much for the woman who saved my wife.”

“That was nothing, really.”

“No, it was everything– really .”

When the waiter arrives, Eddy necks three glasses of wine, ignoring my father’s glare. My hand opens and closes under the table. He is doing a piss poor job of trying to reassure me I can trust him.

I take two glasses from the tray, handing one to Siena. “Thank you,” she says softly.

I clink my glass with hers. “Cheers.”

She smiles a little shyly, overwhelmed by being at our table. I want to take her hand so badly, show her that this is where she belongs, by my side. She sees me watching, then quickly hides her shy expression.

“Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Eddy echoes loudly.

“Edoardo,” my father snaps.

“I know, I know, I promised I wouldn’t drink. Blah blah blah. But sometimes, a man needs a drink. And sometimes, a man needs to know who he’s letting into his Family.”

The way he says Family causes several of us to flinch. It’s capital-F Family, with emphasis. It’s the mafia Family.

He glares at Siena. “What’s your experience? What makes you qualified to run this event alone?”

“Uncle,” I growl, gripping the edge of the table.

I’m about to stand when Siena gently places her hand on my arm.

“I’ll admit, Mr. Bianchi, that this is my first solo gig.

But I’d also like to ask you, do you think I’m doing a bad job?

Can you sit there and say that, sir, realistically?

I’ve had several challenges thrown at me, and I believe I’ve handled them well. ”

The dignity with which she speaks fills me with pride.

Eddy glares at my father. “The fact you’re allowing her to sit here, to dine with you and your wife, to slither into your inner circle, is absurd, brother.”

“Enough.”

All around us, people grow quiet, sneaking looks at our table. My father rarely raises his voice, but when he does, people listen.

“You’ve already had too much to drink,” he goes on. “It’s time for you to leave.”

Eddy stands, wavering on the spot, then plants his fists on the table and glares at Siena for a moment before looking at me. “Be careful with this civilian .” He turns to my father. “If I were the older brother, the heir, I’d make our Family proud.”

“Leave before I do something I’ll regret,” my father snarls. “Now.”

Eddy swaggers away, swiping another glass from a passing waiter.

Siena stands, her eyes glassy, hands shaking. “I’m… sorry, but I think I’d rather not be here. Do you need me here this evening?”

“Oh, dear,” Mother says. “No, not if you’re sure…”

“I could do with a night off.”

“Go, you’ve earned it.”

Siena walks away, and Mother gestures at me. I don’t need any encouragement.

I hurry after Siena, following her between two tall palm trees. When I catch her hand, she pulls it away.

“I’m fine,” she snaps.

“He had no right to speak to you like that. He’s lucky I don’t?—”

“What? Break his jaw? Break every bone in his body? Do something else that’s horribly violent? God, this just feels like a mess… I’m starting to think—” She cuts off.

“What?” I demand.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

“We’re all just pawns to you.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“Everyone who wasn’t born into millions or billions or however much you have. Me, the islanders, Veronica, your clients whom you threaten. Edoardo looked at me like I was scum. He called me a civilian , like somehow, because I wasn’t born wealthy, I’m lesser than him. It’s gross.”

I want so badly to tell her she’s wrong.

But isn’t it better she thinks this instead of stumbling upon the truth? I’m not even sure anymore.

“Edoardo is sabotaging me because he can, because, to him, to all of you, we’re just dirt.”

“No,” I say fiercely, taking her by the shoulders, holding her in place so she can’t run.

“Never say that; don’t even think it. You’re better than us all, Siena.

You’ve fought, hustled, and worked your ass off to get where you are.

Because you are driven and ambitious, you’re hard on yourself.

And to me, you’re not dirt. You’re… heaven. ”

She rolls her eyes. I pull her close, lean down, stare deeply into her honey irises. “I mean it. Call me cheesy. But it’s the truth. You’re better than all of us put together.”

“All I know is, he doesn’t even know me and he hates me, and that you’re hiding secrets. There was a vibe at that table too, like, Why is the help sitting with us? If you needed another reason to steer clear of me, Dario, you’ve got it.”

“That’s literally the opposite of what I want.”

“I just want to be alone for a little while. Please?”

I move in to kiss her, but she turns her face away, my lips colliding with her cheek.

“Please,” she repeats, with a note of desperation in her voice. “If you kiss me, I won’t be able to go. And I want to go.”

I don’t want to let her go when she’s clearly so upset, but I can see the sincerity on her face. This isn’t her usual sarcastic seriousness. This is something else, something real.

“If you need me for anything,” I tell her. “Call me, okay? And I’ll come running like the loyal manservant that I am.”

She doesn’t bite at my joking tone, but offers a small nods then turns away.

I return to find my uncle has returned to the table. I stare coldly at him as I take my seat.

“What?” he grunts.

I say nothing, just keep staring.

“If you keep on with that, we might have a problem,” he snaps.

“You say that like it’s not the only thing I fucking want.”

“Easy,” my father says. “Let’s all just calm down.”

“You’re lucky, Uncle, but your luck won’t last forever if you keep this up. Remove yourself.”

“Wuh-what?” His face has gone red now.

“Remove yourself from this table or I’ll do it for you.”

He hesitates, looking around for support. There are, of course, men loyal to him at the adjacent tables, but they know better than to intervene.

Slowly, he stands. “I prefer drinking alone, anyway.” He takes a few steps, then stares at me. For a second, he turns into the man I knew growing up, with an empathetic expression on his face. “Everything I do, I do for the Family. For you, nephew. For my brother. Remember that.”

I watch him go, fire in my gut.

“He had no right to talk to her like that,” I growl.

My father sighs. “But you have to remember who he is.”

“You’re wrong. He has to remember who I am.”