Mafia Kings: Valentino: Dark Mafia Romance Series #6 by Olivia Thorn

Mafia Kings: Valentino: Chapter 31 The highway followed the coast and eventually headed up into the hills. Soon we took a smaller highway farther up into the mountains.

The view was gorgeous - especially the sparkling blue of the Mediterranean behind us.

Cat would have loved to have seen this, I thought bitterly.

As far as I knew, she'd never seen the Mediterranean.

And now I'll never get to take her.

Thirty minutes later, we took an off-ramp into nowhere. There were only a few scattered villages along the two- lane road. Everything else was rolling hills that went on for miles, full of scrub brush, boulders, and a few cedar trees here and there. Occasionally you would see a crumbling stone building, probably 200 years old, that the inhabitants had abandoned.

Then things got worse.

The road narrowed to one lane with a stomach-churning drop on one side. If there hadn't been metal guardrails, it would've been incredibly easy to just go sailing off the cliff.

Thank God there wasn't any traffic coming in the opposite direction. I had no idea how they would have gotten past us.

The road itself was awful. Chunks of asphalt were broken away, and there were potholes everywhere. The ride beca series of jarring bumps as the caravan continued.

Finally, after 25 minutes of driving out into the middle of nowhere, I saw what looked like a large stone building in the distance. It was surrounded by tall, skinny cedars and had a sloped roof of rounded clay tiles.

Is this it? I wondered.

Sure enough, we turned down a gravel road towards the building. After a few minutes, we reached a massive brick wall with a wrought-iron gate, much like the one my family had around our property in Tuscany.

Unlike ours, though, there were no surveillance cameras or automatic gates - just two guys with shotguns standing guard.

As soon as they saw the cars, they unlocked a chain around the bars and pulled the gates open. After we drove through, they shut the doors again and locked the chain.

Beyond the brick walls, there weren't any trees - just lots of dry grass and rocky ground. Probably so nobody could sneak across the property and attack it.

We soon cto the building I'd seen from the road. Its three-story walls were made of massive sandstone blocks worn down by centuries, with two dozen arched windows barricaded with metal bars.

I wondered if the bars were to keep people out... or in.

The SUV drove around the corner, and I realized that the wall belonged to just one of two buildings that made up a larger compound.

Between the two buildings stood a massive iron gate - not made of bars with space between them, but a solid sheet of hammered metal.

Perfect for stopping bullets, I mused.

In the right of the metal slab was a single doorway big enough for a person to walk through.

The armed guard at the doorway saw the SUVs and went inside. Then he and three other men manually pulled back the iron gate on creaking hinges so the caravan could drive through.

As we entered, I noticed the rooftop terraces on either side of the gate. At least half a dozen men stood atop them, each with a high-powered rifle.

Snipers nest.

The SUVs pulled in between the two buildings, and I realized it was actually pretty beautiful inside.

The gravel gave way to a worn cobblestone road that stretched for at least two hundred feet between the buildings.

Off to the right was a grassy courtyard. The fountain in the center had what looked like an ancient Roman sculpture of a woman pouring water from a jug.

Terracotta pots lined the drive and hung from chains embedded into the stone walls. Inside them were colorful flowers and desert-looking plants.

The SUV parked in front of the entrance to the main building: giant doors made of weathered wood with iron trim and massive rings as doorknockers.

Vicari waited as the driver quickly hopped out and opened the Don's door.

I noticed Shotgun didn't do the sfor me, though.

"Con," Vicari said. "Tto meet your future wife." I warily got out and stood by the car as the big wooden doors opened.

Half a dozen guys wearing black pants, white shirts, black vests, and caps cout first. They all had shotguns or rifles, so I was guessing they were foot soldiers.

Then ca tiny little bird of a woman, maybe 4'10". Her face was wrinkled as a walnut, with skin browned by decades of harsh sun, and white hair pulled back in a tight bun.

She wore an old-timey black dress with a high neck, lots of black lace, and long sleeves that cdown to her wrists. A widow's dress.

A servant girl in an apron held her arm as she walked. The old lady took small steps, and it was a long process just to travel a few feet - but she grinned happily the entire time.

"That's my nonna," Vicari said. "Ninety-one years old and sharp as a tack. Csay hello." I followed Vicari dutifully over to the old woman, who had finally reached the bottom of the steps. "Nonna," Vicari said, "this is the Rosolini boy." She looked up atand smiled. Her teeth were tiny and yellow, though she was missing a few.

"Not bad, right?" Vicari said. "I got a good one - right? "Very pretty," she agreed in a thick Sicilian accent.

I burst out with a chuckle in spite of myself. "Thank you." She reached up and patted my cheek softly as she grinned. "You a good boy." It was a surprisingly tender gesture...

Especially since we were surrounded by guys with guns, and her grandson was a stone-cold killer.

"And here's my daughter, Isabella," Vicari announced.

I followed the Don's gaze - And was immediately confused.

There was a girl standing in the open doorway...

But she was actually kind of cute.

She had a nice face, even with zero makeup on.

She was also really shy. She looked at me, but when our eyes met, she glanced away and blushed. Her hair was dark brown, curly, and extended past her shoulders.

Her clothes were old-fashioned - a floral print dress with dark brown flowers on a light brown background. Everything about it was incredibly modest: sleeves halfway to her elbows, a neckline that hid her collarbones, and a hem down to her knees. She also wore white stockings, flat brown shoes, and no jewelry of any kind. Clothes could be changed. The one thing I wasn't crazy about was how thin she was: tall and skinny with no boobs or hips to speak of.

One of the things that drovewild about Cat was her curves. She weighed a few extra pounds, yeah, but in all the right places. I knew a lot of guys liked thin chicks, but I'd take a thick woman any day of the week.

Unfortunately, my wife-to-be was more of a beanpole.