Inizio (COMPLETED)

14. Stay with me (Part 2)

Marco POV

"Papa, listen. We don't need to attack. I'm sure Pietro won't either considering he couldn't even come see the offer for himself." My dad was rambling about what we needed to do about Figo and Pietro.

Pietro Giuseppe is leader of one of the greatest Mafias in the world. He recently moved his base from Armenia to Italy, causing a rift between us. We were the biggest Mafia family in Italy until he came along. My dad didn't want any problems with him, especially because he was on our territory and starting a war like that would definitely ruin our business. Him and my father made a deal to stay on their own sides. Pietro was to stay in southern Italy, and us in northern Italy.

Things were fine until Pietro started sex trafficking people from the north. Young girls and even boys. My dad didn't let that fly and warned Pietro. It wasn't until we invited Pietro and his family to dinner that we found out it wasn't him, but his brother, Gustavo.

Gustavo, who was part of the Giuseppe Mafia, threatened us that day. Whilst we were at dinner, he kidnapped 112 women from one of my dads strip clubs. All were trafficked and 12 murdered. After hearing news of this, my dad had gotten guards to drag Gustavo to the back room. He asked him where the rest of the women were and when Gustavo continued to threaten him, my dad shot him 12 times. 'A bullet for each' he had said.

Pietro hadn't and still hasn't done anything to avenge his brother. He could of been plotting anything, but it's been years since Gustavo's death and still nothing. We figured he'd dropped it. Upon Figo bringing Pietro up again, my dad had gotten his guard up almost immediately.

"Marco, for a man like Pietro to not avenge his own brother," my dad began in Italian, " goes against every genetic code in his blood. He's a man. An Italian man born in Sicily. You know how they are. We need to put our walls back up.. The anniversary of his brothers death is in two weeks. The best way to attack us would be at our home base. He knows we're not there, and attacking then would make it harder for us to communicate with our people. In two weeks, we're heading to Italy. We need to keep an eye on Pietro ourselves before he plans on doing anything." I nodded as he spoke.

"Papa, when we get to Italy what then?We watch him and then what?"

"Well, we won't just sit back and let our men fight our battles. We will fight too if need be. So, I suggest you get back in shape. Rosie's been stuffing you." I laughed at his remark.

"Okay, papa. I have to be up early tomorrow. Talk to you some time then," I said, as a sweet aroma began to fill my surroundings. My stomach growled again.

"Ciao, figlio."

"Ciao, papa." I hung up and followed the scent to the kitchen. I leaned on the arch as I watched Zhara cook.

"What a sight.." I thought as I watched her hum to herself and subtly shake her hips. She turned around and set a round plate with rolls made of leaves on it. I raised a brow as I approached her.

"What is that," I asked. She jumped a little, and then blushed.

So cute.

I loved seeing the effect I had on her. Pshh. And Stephan thought she wasn't into me.

Just because she's clearly attracted to you, doesn't mean she's gonna be like the other girls.

I silently agreed with the voice in my head. It's true. She hadn't made any advances and actually blocked most of the subtle ones I gave her. She was a hard one, I could tell.

"Um... it's Yalanchi. My mom makes it all the time," she said. "I mostly made them for me cause I figured you preferred eating Italian food." She turned around and opened the pot on the stove. She grabbed pasta tongs and put whatever was in the pot, on the plate.

"I made you fettuccine Alfredo with roast chicken," she said handing me the plate. Fuck, it looked good. "Where are the glasses," she asked. I pointed to the top cabinet. She walked over and opened it.

"Ah shit," I heard her mumble. I smiled and set my plate down, as I watched her try to reach it. I examined her body from behind.

Her ass was perfect in those pants. They accentuated her hips and I noticed she had taken her shirt off and was now wearing her tank top. I walked to her and stood behind her. She felt my presence and stopped trying. I reached over her, her back against my chest as I grabbed two glasses; my cabinets were pretty high.She got off her tip-toes and as she did so, she lightly grazed the front of my pants. I held in a breath as I felt my member twitch from the small action.

"Here," I gave her the glasses.

"Thanks." I went over to my wine cabinet, hoping that staying away from her would calm me down.

"What would you like? I have ménage a trois, dom perignon, caymus Cabernet.." I trailed off and looked at her. She had her bottom lip between her teeth. Oh, how bad I wanted to have those lips wrap ar-

"Surprise me," she said, her smile reaching her blue eyes.

***
Zhara POV

It was around 3:00 am when we finished eating and cleaning the dishes. Marco, who I was afraid wouldn't like them, actually enjoyed the yalanchi. My mom used to always make them. She'd put bell peppers, onions, lemon juice, and other tasty vegetables on the grape leaves and wrapped them.

"You know I don't just eat Italian food, right," Marco said interrupting my thoughts. I put the sponge away and dried my hands.

"What else do you eat," I asked knowing he didn't have an answer to that. From his pantry, all I saw was fettuccine, pesto, olive oil, canned tomatoes, homemade breadcrumbs; it all screamed Italian.

He looked up at the ceiling, then back at me. I put my good arm on my hip.

"Uh huh," I said rolling my eyes. He started walking towards the stairs.

"You act like Italian food is bad," he said as we climbed. I shook my head.

"It's not bad. I just think it's... overrated." I nearly bumped into his ass headfirst as he suddenly stopped.

"Overrated," He said dramatically grasping his chest. I giggled and walked past him.

"You know why you say that, dolcezza? Because you've never had real Italian food." I heard him start walking again. When we reached the top I stopped.

"Dol-what," I asked. He looked puzzled for a second, and then he remembered.

"Dolcezza..." he said slowly, drawing out his perfect accent as he stared me in the eyes. I looked away and pretended to focus on the paintings in the hallway.

"What does that mean."

"It means sweetie," he said, a light laugh coming out his mouth. It was a laugh that made you smile 'til your cheeks hurt.

"My names not sweetie," I said, my ears warming up. He led me to a door and opened it, revealing a guest room. I walked in admiring the cozy feel. The large bed in the middle was dark oak and the duvet was a fluffy white. There was a white rug laid out on the dark wood floor. I turned to him, feeling his gaze on my back.

He yawned and rubbed his eye, his expensive watch catching the light as he did so. He ran his hand through his hair.

"Well, it's pretty late.. or rather early, so I'm gonna go to sleep. Goodnight, Ms. Embin," he said as he headed for his room. I walked up to my doorway.

"Ms. Embin is my mom. I'm Zhara," I said. He gave me a jaw dropping grin. As I shut the door to my room, I heard him say it slowly, as if testing it out.

"Zhara."