His eyes narrowed at me, looking me up from head to toe in a slow almost seductive manner. I tried my best not to shudder from the intensity in his glassy blue orbs. I watched as he slowly licked his lips, curving them into a sly smile.
"Mr Villanu...
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"Mrs Villanueva?" I perked up upon hearing the last name. Mrs Villanueva. It had a nice ring to it.
"Yes Loretta?" I lifted my brow at the maid.
"You received an invitation from the Sanchez Country Club," Loretta said as she handed me the beige envelope with golden calligraphy.
"Another one?" I took the envelope and ripped it open. It was yet another invitation from one of the many mafia wives in Italy seeking to have me over.
Ever since Dante and I married, I have been receiving invitations from these women to visit them at their respective country clubs. It did not help, that everyone knew we didn't plan a honeymoon because of Lorenzo.
"It is best you attend at least one of them," Alessandra advised before taking a bite from her apple. "They won't let you live it down if you don't."
"I do not even know these woman," I pointed out.
"Nope, but they sure as hell want to know all about you. After all, you took the most sought-out bachelor in the mafia world out of the market." Alessandra plopped down beside me. "They'll just keep pestering you until you give in."
"Did you have to attend one of these when you married Vincenzo?" I asked as I threw the invitation onto the nearby coffee table.
Alessandra shook her head. "I was born into the mafia role, I did not marry into it. Those vultures only choose the 'fresh meat', which you my dear, are."
I scrunched my face into a pout.
"Fine, I guess I'll go. But what will I wear?" I tried imitations the Grinch's expression, hoping to get a chuckle from Alessandra at the movie reference.
But I didn't. Instead, she gave me a dumbfound gaze.
"Clothes?" She replied in a duh tone.
"It's a Grinch refer—Never mind." I should have known she never watched The Grinch. After all, her brother had never watched Bambi either. "Just help me choose an outfit."
"I would love to, but I am not much of a fashionista," Alessandra replied.
I looked down at her very fashionable outfit and then back at her brown eyes.
"Really?"
"My personal stylist picks these out," she defended. "Ask Caterina. She's all about clothes."
"Did I hear someone say clothes?" Caterina poked her head into the bedroom.
"Steph got invited to one of those mafia wife clubs," Alessandra replied. "She needs help choosing an outfit."
"Ugh, those witches. They're like the mafia version of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills." Caterina wiggled her nose in disgust. She then turned to me and smiled. "Don't worry, I will get you all dolled up so you can squash them like the little bugs they are."
