Page 32 of Cruel Tyrant


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“I want a really big desk,” she whispers.

I laugh and kiss her, because fuck, she can have whatever she damn well pleases.

Chapter 20

Stefania

The work-from-home compromise gets all my creative juices flowing again. I throw myself into setting up my home office, even though I have no clue what job I’ll end up doing from it. Davide even seems vaguely into it too, although I think he just wants to fuck me on top of my big, fancy desk. He’s probably imagining me lounging around in pencil skirts and silky blouses just waiting for him to come home and use me up.

Which is kind of not the worst thing in the world, but I’m not doing this just to satisfy some office kink.

A couple of days after our agreement, with my furniture en route and a bunch of resumes sent out for remote jobs, I find myself walking arm in arm with my husband to his parents’ house a few doors down. “We do this once a month,” he explains as we hesitate outside. “The whole family gets together and we invite some of the more important Capos. Sometimes a politician shows up, or maybe an important detective is interested in having a conversation with my father about maybe getting on the payroll, that sort of thing. Tonight, it’s just family though.”

I chew my lip and straighten out my clothes. I’m in a conservative dress, low heels, and simple makeup with my hair done in a twist. Davide said I look like I’m on the way to a Whitehouse Correspondents’ dinner, while I was going for mafia homemaker.

Inside is light and lively. Simon and Elena are already there sitting in the kitchen with Freddie while their father pours glasses of prosecco. We’re greeted with lots of excitement and I’m practically passed around to everyone as a drink is shoved into my hand.

“Dad’s been slaving away for hours,” Elena says, rolling her eyes. “He makes this at least three times a year.”

“And if you don’t compliment it enough, he’ll be very disappointed,” Simon adds.

“Don’t worry, he’ll give you plenty of opportunities.” Elena grins and clinks her glass against mine. “He’ll ask you fifty times what you thought, and you’d better be enthusiastic each time.”

“Or else he’ll keep asking,” Simon says.

“He sounds like my older brother Saul. Whenever he cooked, he needed a million compliments.” I smile to myself though talking about my family is bittersweet. As hard as things were with them, I really miss my brothers, and I still haven’t made up with Giorgia after our fight.

I push my homesickness away and chat with Freddie about potential job opportunities while the boys stand around some fancy bottle of whiskey and discuss tasting notes. Elena disappears for a little while and comes back with the last sister in tow. Laura looks grumpy about being here—her dark hair is slicked back and she’s wearing beat-up jeans and an old sweatshirt—but she lets herself get pushed into a chair, accepts some prosecco, and studiously ignores me.

“Dinner’s just a simple Bolognese,” Alessandro announces. Davide’s father wears an apron as he portions out the bowls.

“Tell her how you make it,” Davide prompts. “You’re going to do it no matter what.”

“Ah, it’s no big deal.” Alessandro beams at me. “Just beef and veal simmered in white wine and plum tomatoes. Easy as can be.”

“It takes him like eight hours,” Elena says and mouths compliments to me.

“Smells amazing,” I say and try not to laugh as all the siblings nod at me and make more hand gestures. “And wow, that sauce looks so good, I’m really excited.”

“Thank you, Stefania. I see you’re a woman of wonderful taste. You’ll get the best dish tonight.” Alessandro hums to himself as he works and Davide gives me a wink and a nod.

I’m beaming at how comfortable and happy I feel with these people. For a bunch of vicious, brutal killers, this feels like the most normal group I’ve ever been a part of. My brothers would have about a dozen staff members serving everything and another dozen soldiers and sycophants hanging on to everything, but there’s only immediate family here. Everyone seems happy, everyone except for Laura, who keeps on scowling at me whenever I glance in her direction.

As Alessandro sets the table, I excuse myself to the bathroom. When I’m finished and on the way back out, I stop short, nearly running straight into Laura as she looms in the middle of the hallway. We’re at the back of the house, away from the rest of everyone.

“I know what you’re doing,” she says, not smiling. She’s looking at me like she’s going to jab a knife into my guts, and I take a step back, afraid she might actually lash out. The girl’s got some seriously dead eyes.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Kissing my father’s ass? Getting in deep with my brother? Spending time with my mother and my sister? I know what you’re doing, princess, and I’m not going to let it happen.”

I genuinely have no clue what she’s talking about. I rack my brain trying to think of something I did to piss this girl off but there’s absolutely nothing. I’ve mostly ignored her since coming here and she’s done the same, but now she’s acting like I’m some sort of spy sent to gather her family’s secrets.

“Did I do something to you?” I ask, gathering what little courage I have, because she’s really rattling me.

“Not yet, but I’m going to make sure you don’t. My family is the most important thing in the world to me, and you’re still just a stranger. I don’t care if you’re married to Davide. He doesn’t understand people.”

“And you do?” I almost laugh in her face, but she’s dead serious. “I’m sorry, but I’m just trying to survive right now, okay? If I did something to piss you off, I really am sorry.”

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