The Ricci Rules

CHAPTER THREE

POV ROMA RICCI

To say I was merely intrigued was a fucking understatement.

This family had a way of pinching my attention in their claws. Firstly, we were in business together. Secondly, they were my equals when it came to power, honour, wealth and glory. The men were loyal, the women fucking beautiful. Untouchable.

I was a busy man. I was the head of the Ricci family. My days consisted of making sure my bank was full, my weapons were distributed and I had enough snow to sell, to make it winter twelve months a year. So yeah, I was fucking occupied.

Then came this damn family. I could never escape them. Not when I was younger and certainly not when I was a grown fucking man capable of making decision for himself. Though after what transpired merely minutes before, a flurry of memories have attacked my insane mind and I'm warming to the idea of an alliance between the two families.

Then again that might be my dick speaking for me. Fuck, she's beautiful.

I met Salvatore when I first took over the business. I needed strong allies and Marco sent me to his nephew. A clean cut boy that hated the sight of blood or a bent fucking ruler. But he had guts and a brain. Clever enough to warn me away from his family.

He sat in my office with stiff shoulders and not a single ounce of trust in those hazel eyes of his. He came in with a fucking briefcase with a single contract inside.

He had one message and one condition. He'd be my only contact or no one.

Of course, I agreed to the terms and didn't question it. The De Luca's were known for their word. Plus, I'd rather look at his face than Marco's anyways. That ugly fucker always made me unreasonably angry. His face seemed to shout 'hit me'.

That day I shook hands with Salvatore and somehow we've created a comfortable friendship. I didn't want to kill him and vice versa.

I'd like to think I'd be sad if he ever did die, so yeah we were friends.

Even though we had an amicable friendship, I've only just realised he has never invited me here. Our dealings were mostly done at the cafe or my office.

It felt odd sitting in an office hidden deep in his mansion, with a nose bleed sustained by the daintiest hands I've ever come across. On instinct I wiped my nose and checked for any active bleeding. It was fucking sore and most definitely broken.

Yeah, I let her take me down but I didn't anticipate the amount of strength she might have nor was I ready for her attitude.

See in our establishment, women were more... What's the word? Docile. No no, er obedient. Not feisty or fucking trained to take someone down.

Yet here I waited, for the famous delicate Marco's Fiori, only to find she is no delicate flower. More of a thorn than anything.

I could lie and say this was my first meeting with Sienna De Luca. Maybe the first time she actually acknowledged me but I've heard talk about Sienna De Luca for years.

How men go to her flower shop just for a glimpse. They sit in the opposite deli for hours just to watch her walk in and out of a door.

The women talk of the dresses she wears with envy- on the odd occasion she actually attends a function. Sienna on the other hand was always aloof to her surroundings or never present.

To be honest she wasn't totally on my radar. That may be a stretch but she was once too young to even focus on and the next time I'd see her she'd annoy me to the point of actively avoiding her. Throughout the years she'd fill in some cracks in my memory but nothing to create a full picture.