FIONA
"Do you even know how to run a sailing yacht?" Louise asked me as I watched a couple of guys load food items in the galley of The Poseidon.
"Uhm, I've been reading books?" I managed weakly. Louise narrowed her eyes on me. "Relax, I'll rent it out for parties and private sailing. Don Spinelli has a lot of friends I can connect with."
Louise scoffed. "Are you seriously going to roll over and play along with the Mafia without a fight? Just like that?"
I glared at my friend. "Yes, just like that."
The tension between us was deafening. I had a debt to pay, and I couldn't be distracted by morals or principles.
One of the delivery guys walked up to us. "All done, ma'am."
"Thank you." I replied to him.
When Louise and I were alone, I spoke up.
"Taking advantage of this situation could be a chance for me to build my career," I explained to Louise.
I kicked my business off with my first guest, one of Giovanni's associates, Eric Conti. He was a tall man in his late fifties. He arrived on the yacht with Giovanni for dinner.
"I'd like to officially introduce you to my daughter, Fiona." Giovanni spoke. "Fiona, Eric Conti."
"Hello," I simply said.
"Buongiorno." Eric greeted me by kissing my cheeks. "Ah, I see the family resemblance."
I served their table with rich Sicilian dishes and expensive wine imported from Naples. Giovanni insisted I eat with them.
Eric took a bite out of his lasagna and nodded. "Hmm, not bad, you used fresh ingredients."
I smiled. "Thank you; I tried to make it as Sicilian as possible."
Conti's dark eyes roamed over me and remained at my chest.
"I'm glad you embrace your true heritage." Conti added. "It's such a shame many Italian Americans have lost their ways. I could show you some of my grandmother's recipes."
I held a gasp as his cold fingers trailed up my inner thigh and felt disgusted. I tried to brush his hand away, but Giovanni kept a steady gaze at me.
I sat up straight and forced a smile. "That would be…lovely."
Eric nodded and turned to Giovanni. "Don, when you spoke of a daughter, I thought you'd finally lost your mind."
Giovanni smirked. "Don't count your chickens yet. Fiona was a surprise addition to the family."
I rolled my eyes and sipped the rich red wine.
"There are rumors, Capofamilia." Conti said in a hushed tone.
"You know better than to listen," Giovanni chided.
"I understand, you often spoke about your late wife Valentina with such devotion. It's surprising that Fiona is barely a few years older than Dante, don't you think?" Conti asked.
I curled my toes, waiting for the storm.
Giovanni chewed and swallowed his food. "I prefer not to discuss personal matters; besides, I would never abandon my blood."
I leveled my eyes at Giovanni. Yeah, right.
Conti nodded and changed the subject. "I'm looking to expand my casino operations in the city, and I think we can work out a mutual arrangement; the harbor is the perfect place to set up."
Giovanni lifted a brow. "The harbor isn't 100% under my control. I suspect not for long."
"Si," Conti said.
The rest of dinner was a blur, but I left the two of them at dessert.
I leaned by the railing, staring at the ocean. The calm breeze pushed back my hair as I took a deep breath, but I felt like I was being watched. I turned around and flinched at the sight of Conti.
"Sorry I frightened you, Fiona." He said.
"I'm not." I replied.
He stepped forward.
"Thank you for telling me about the Midnight Vixens." I said and leaned back by the railing.
He shrugged. "I suppose they worked their charm with Kane McGregor."
I smirked. "They certainly did."
"I have to say," Conti spoke. "Women aren't usually running the show in our world; Don Spinelli has thrown his lot with you."
I glared at him. "That sounds a little sexist, don't you think?"
He stood next to me. "Tides change; you could get caught in the crossfire, like a pawn."
I chewed on my lower lip. "I can take care of myself."
"Still," Conti murmured. "You need to forge alliances, Fiona; you're a smart woman, and I would be glad to help you. You and I are more alike than you think."
He touched my jaw, and I clenched my teeth; then his fingers dropped to my breast. I drew back my hand and moved to hit him. He caught my hand in the air neatly.
"Don't you ever touch me like that again!" I hissed and drew my hand quickly. "Or else."
He chuckled. "Or what? Your father would rather sacrifice you than compromise his loyalty to the gang. You need to offer more than just beauty and charm if you want to survive."
I had a feeling he was right.
Later that night, I sat in my room reading my journal when someone burst inside. My hand flew to my heart when I saw Dante.
"Have you ever heard of knocking?!" I snapped and got off my seat.
He glared at me. "So, you played hostess to Dad and Eric Conti?"
"Wow, nothing gets past you, Dante." I said sarcastically.
"What did you discuss?" Dante demanded.
"Mind your own business," I hissed.
Dante swiftly drew his gun at me. "You think you're really clever, don't you?"
I felt my knees shake. "Go ahead and pull the trigger; I know you're dying to."
Dante chuckled. "I won't kill you, Fiona; I'll probably ensure you wish you had. Start talking."
"No." I replied firmly.
Dante grabbed my arm and twisted; I grunted in pain. "Start talking."
"Fine," I hissed. "They just discussed the New Jersey territory, that's all." It wasn't a total lie.
Dante, let me go. I rubbed my bruised arm.
"He wants to expand to Jersey? That overgrown asshole." Dante scoffed.
"I bet you feel like a man's man when you hurt me." I said in a deadly tone. "I know men like you have a certain weakness, and when I find yours, you'll wish you never pointed that gun at me."
Dante chuckled. "Oh my God, you're pathetic. Tell me, how does Conti make you feel?"
Disgust rose in my throat, then I shrugged. "He's all right."
Dante's gaze turned serious., "You'd do well to watch your step around him, or you'll regret it."
I broke into a smile. "Why, Dante, that almost sounds like you care about me."
He burst out of that room, slammed the door behind him with force that nearly sent it off its hinges.
Then my knees gave out and I sank to the floor; a tiny sob escaped my lips.