Emiliano Marchetti had it all.
Money. Power. Respect. Loyalty. Women.
But he never felt complete.
Being king is much lonelier than you would think... but heavy is the head that wears the crown.
Sienna Cattaneo was only seventeen when she lost eve...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I never lie to any man because I don't fear anyone. The only time you lie is when you're afraid." ― John Gotti
☾☾☾
"You haven't changed a bit." Naomi observes as her gaze rakes over my appearance once more, a smirk tugging at her lips as she takes a step closer to me.
I do the same, taking in the black dress that hugs her curves, like the damned thing was made specifically for her. Her smooth, light brown skin, that is half her fathers and half her mothers, appears to be flawless. Her coily, dark brown hair looks almost black as it frames her sculpted face. She's gorgeous. Always has been.
I clear my throat and nod curtly.
"Sì, well I wouldn't say that..." I respond before walking out of the foyer and into one of the longer hallways on the main floor that leads to the dining room.
A few things have changed since we've last seen each other. Like the fact that the schoolboy crush I once had on her is long gone.
The clicking of her heels sound from behind me, indicating that she's following my lead. Shoving one hand into my pocket, I check the time on my Rolex that sits on the other. Six forty-five.
Right on time.
"Is your father here yet?" I ask her without looking back, knowing she knows that I'm speaking to her.
Afterall, who else could I be speaking to?
Naomi hums softly. "Yes." she replies just as I round the corner and enter the dining room with her following closely behind. "He's in your study, with your father." I stop and turn to face her, raising a brow. She shrugs. "Something about imported whiskey." I nod.
I'd just had the first batch of a new up and coming brand of scotch flown in from Ireland, an investment that I'd nearly forgotten about until Naomi brought it up. I let my father handle the investments so I can focus on bigger projects and problems, plus he enjoys that side of the business. It makes him happy.
Just then, Gia and my mother enter the dining room from the kitchen, laughing too each other as they carry multiple dishes in their arms. I rush over and relieve my mother of the things in her hands before placing them on the table and turning to do the same with Gia. Mother cups my cheek before pressing her red painted lips to the other.
"Il mio bel ragazzo. (My handsome boy.)" she smiles warmly. "Such a gentleman, Gia, sì?" she asks the woman who has been like a second mother to me and a part of the family since before I was even born. Gia chuckles softly.
"Sì, un gentiluomo, davvero. (Yes, a gentleman, indeed.)" she agrees with my mother, sending me a bright smile before disappearing into the kitchen again, probably to get the rest of the food. Mother looks back at me and gives my face a thorough scan, still cradling it in her petite hands.
