Page 181 of Marcello

As IF.

Had Eugenio been a hot guy in his twenties, it actually might have gone another way.

I was perpetually horny. I saw tons of dreamy heartthrobs on Netflix – Regé-Jean Page on Bridgerton, Chase Stokes on Outer Banks, Charles Melton on Riverdale –

But I never saw anyone my own age, and the youngest foot soldier who worked for my father was in his mid-30s and very unattractive.

None of the male servants were young or hot, either. The butler, chef, head of servants – all guys in their 50s.

Eugenio was forty-something with a beer belly and a ridiculous mustache on a chubby little boy’s face.

Nothing was about to happen between us. Not in this world possible.

But Eugenio gave me a sly little smile like he might have a chance. “Is there something I could do for you, Signorina?”

Ew.

But then I realized, THIS IS IT!

THIS IS THE OPPORTUNITY I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR!

I started off coldly. “If Papa knew you were spying on me naked, he’d cut off your balls and serve them to you for dinner.”

“You weren’t naked!” Eugenio whined in terror at the mention of my father.

“Oh, yeah, only topless,” I sneered. “I’m sure he’ll see the distinction.”

Eugenio’s face turned completely pale. “Signorina, please – I’ll do anything – just please don’t tell Don Amato about this!”

“You’ll do anything I want?” I purred.

Eugenio got the wrong idea again.

“Anything,” he said with a big smile.

“Good. I want you to help me sneak out of here for a night.”

His expression went back to pure terror.

“WHAT?! Signorina, no! I can’t do that – ”

“Then I hope you like the taste of your own testicles,” I snapped.

His lower lip trembled. I almost felt bad for him –

Almost.

“But the Camorra – if they get you – ”

“You ought to worry about your nuts instead of the Camorra.”

That was when he broke.

“Let me see what I can do,” he said in a despondent tone of voice.

“You had better not be stalling,” I growled. “Because if you are – ”

“I’m not, I swear!” he said miserably. “I just have to make arrangements!”