Sweet Temptation(23)

“Everything all right?” Giulia whispered as we took our seats at the head of the table.

I leaned closer. “My sister worried I wasn’t decent to you.”

“Because of the sheets?” Horror rang in Giulia’s words.

“Because of my nature.”

Giulia tilted her head in that curious way. Her hair smelled like a strawberry field in summer, and the insane urge to press my nose into it rose up inside me. “You were decent.” She touched my hand resting on my thigh with her fingertips. Feeling eyes on me, I turned back to the table. Christian, Felix, and my father watched curiously. My expression tightened.





Cassio obviously felt uncomfortable with any kind of emotional displays in public. He soon talked to Luca and fellow Underbosses, leaving me at the mercy of my nosy mother. Eventually I managed to shake her and my aunts off and hid in a stall in the restrooms.

This was where Mia found me twenty minutes later. “It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” she said after I came out and we both redid our makeup.

“It is.”

“Are you okay? You can tell me if you aren’t. Cassio is my brother, but I’m a woman first.”

I nodded, remembering Cassio’s words and his reluctance to involve other people in our private life.

“I’m fine, but thank you.”

She gave a small smile. “Don’t let him turn you into something that’s not you. Our world needs girls like you.”

I gave her a quick hug, and unlike her brother, she didn’t mind and hugged me back. I was glad to have her on my side, but I needed to find my place in Cassio’s life by myself. He wouldn’t tolerate anything else.




It was almost eight in the evening when we finally pulled up the driveway to Cassio’s mansion, a magnificent three-story brownstone building with white columns supporting the porch, white window frames, and old crooked trees on the front lawn. Cassio parked in one of the double garages on the left.

He got out and opened the door for me. My stomach hollowed with nerves. This was my home now, and soon I’d meet the children I’d raise. Cassio’s hand found its place on my lower back again as he led me toward the magnificent white front door. Someone from his staff had gathered my belongings in the morning and brought them to the house.

I released a shaky breath when Cassio put the key in the lock. His eyes cut to me. “This is your home.”

I gave him a shaky smile, knowing he meant it. Yet judging by the way he’d handled everything so far, his rules would be the only ones he’d want followed within those walls. I’d have to fight for every bit of power and freedom—he wouldn’t hand over either freely.

He opened the door and motioned for me to get inside. I did, trying to figure out what I was smelling as I scanned the white and gray granite floor. High-pitched barking almost gave me a heart attack, and a small ball of reddish-brown fluff stormed through the hall and latched itself onto Cassio’s trouser leg. Growling, the small dog started to tug at the fabric. I blinked then bit my lip, stifling laughter. It was too ridiculous a sight not to be amusing.

“Fuck!” Cassio snarled. “Sybil, didn’t I tell you to keep the goddamn dog locked away?”

My smile died. He bent down and tried to grab the dog’s neck, but the tiny thing snapped its teeth and bit his finger. Fury flickered across his face, and he finally managed to grab the dog and lifted it into the air. The dog squeaked once then fell silent and hung in Cassio’s grasp. My husband looked as if he considered putting it down with his gun or strangling it with his strong hands.

I touched his arm, terrified for the helpless animal. “Don’t hurt it.”

Cassio’s eyes snapped to mine, still with the same anger in them, and I dropped my hand but stood my ground.

Steps rang out and a tall dark-haired woman in her early fifties came running then stopped abruptly and cursed in Italian, looking to the floor. She’d stepped in dog poo, which explained what I’d smelled. Her black flats were now covered with it.

“That’s it,” Cassio growled. “Tomorrow this thing is gone.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Moretti. I went into its room to clean and it slipped out. I tried catching it all day, but it’s too fast. And Daniele hid from me again. I don’t know—” She glanced my way and fell silent.

Cassio ignored her and stalked away. I followed hesitantly into a magnificent living room with herringbone parquet, then watched as my husband opened the terrace door and dropped the dog outside before closing the door. The dog peered in through the glass.

“You can’t do that,” I said, horrified.

Sybil gave me a look that conveyed I should keep my mouth shut. Cassio, however, ignored my comment altogether.

“Clean the dog shit,” Cassio ordered Sybil as he moved to a liquor cabinet, poured himself a drink, and sank down on the cognac-colored leather sofa. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the small dog sitting in the November cold with its nose pressed to the window. Sybil scurried away to follow her master’s command.

I stood in the middle of the living room, not sure what to do. One thing was for sure: I wouldn’t let that dog freeze to death outside. Cassio was the master of this house, in our society’s eyes—my master.

I walked over to the terrace door.