The Storm Before the Calm

Chapter 4

Dominico Vicious Vitale

As I sat between my Zio Gio and Antonio, I couldn't stop glaring holes through Romeo's head. Something about that little prick just rubbed me the wrong way, and I had an inkling suspicion that he was indeed married into this family via Zio Giovanni's daughter whom I thought was the nanny.

Although, I wasn't being sold on their happy marriage if his snickers and her death glares were any indication to their relationship. Although unhappy marriages were a regular occurrence in our world, he had no business to offer. So I knew they didn't marry out of love. Or business. So, why? I sat back in my seat, whiskey glass in hand, trying to figure them out. My eyes fell to both of their left hands, where no wedding bands resided, but in mafia marriages, that wasn't a surprise. Rarely was a spouse ever faithful in our world.

I still trying to figure everyone at the table out, my eyes flew back to the quiet brunette when I saw her body still and her eyes fall to her lap. I swore to God, if his hands were anywhere near between her legs at this family dinner table, I was going to break every single finger of his.

"Cazzo." I heard Antonio sigh next to me, and I turned my head to see him also glaring at the two of them over his glass. Seems like their inappropriateness wasn't uncommon at the dinner table. Heard.

I watched as her own hand fell below the table, and even though she lowered her voice, my ears picked up on every vile, filthy word that fell from those glossy lips that belonged around my cock. "If you don't move your hand off of my leg in three seconds, I will cut your fingers off right here, and fucking feed them to you."

Suddenly, he jerked his hand back to his own body, wrapping his cloth napkin around it, and my own fist clenched harder when he called her a 'fucking bitch'. No manners, this pussy. Her balls were bigger than his, and that was just pathetic. I'd have to have a talk with my Zio Giovanni about this sack of shit. Or I wouldn't, since that has never been my style, and I'll handle him myself.

I clenched my jaw, however, filing away that mental note as my cock thickened in my pants when I saw her lift a knife from her lap and lick the length of it, as something red covered her tongue, and I had a suspicion I knew what that red substance was.

"Gioca pulito, Aura." Antonio said into his whiskey glass from next to me as he grinned up at his sister, and Romeo pouted like a little kid next to her as her icy stare flew up to her brother's dark one. Lethal, those eyes.

"Suonero bene quando Romeo avra dieci dita in meno con cui toccarmi." I'll play nice when Romeo has 10 less fingers to touch me with. Italian dripped from her tongue like silk so suavely, I'd pay her my entire life savings to read me an Italian phone book.

Suddenly, Angelina's voice broke the tension at that end of the table, zoning in on me, making me engage in conversation despite the fact that I craved sitting here and studying everyone around me and getting to know the dynamics of what I'd be around until further notice. I planned on solely getting all the information I needed from Zio Dante, handling my business, and getting on the next flight back to Italy.

"So, Viscous, what brought you home?" She asked me, taking a bite of steak off her fork, sipping her red wine. Classy, talking with your mouth full, Angelina. Some things have not changed a single bit.

"Is family not a good enough reason, mio amore?" Zio Giovanni spoke up, happily, holding his own glass of wine up in the air to her. Following suit, everyone lifted their glasses high in the air also, as is tradition, and threw them back together. Although, I couldn't help but steal a glance over my own glass to watched Psuedo Nanny throw back her whiskey, and a server immediately step forward to refill it for her, timidly, as she smiled up at him, and thanked him before sipping the fresh pour.

Who was this girl?