Bred In Violence (A Mafia Romance Book One) #𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝟏

Chapter 12

                           Not edited

                             Raphael

I had to leave the house; I couldn't stay for few reasons, not least of all that I found I wanted Sophie as I had never wanted any other woman. My need for her was violent. The problem was, she was staying in my bedroom, in my bed. And I didn't know how to handle that because no matter what happens or how I felt. She was staying with me.

I passed by Bruno's bedroom to check whether he wanted to go to the vault with me, but he wasn't there, so I decided to check on Romano. Same thing, not there.

Where the hell were they?

It was almost midnight, and though it was still early to go to bed, nothing major was happening that should keep us awake unless you were me and had the epitome of temptation in bed.

As I walked out through the kitchen, I heard murmurs and then laughter. What the hell was there to laugh about? I walked in on them sitting side by side eating.

Romano had his elbows on the table looking at Bruno, who seem to be regaling him with what appeared to be an amusing story because Romano chuckled, which was in itself a novelty.

Romano rarely laughed or chuckled. The nearest to a smile he can do is a smirk.

"What is so funny that you got him laughing?" I asked

"I wasn't laughing," he contradicted. Like it was a crime to be heard laughing.

"How is she?" Romano asks me

"She hates my guts," I said as I sat beside both of them. I noticed for the first time that we only had three dining chairs.

"Besides that!" Bruno glares at me like hating me should be obvious.

"She is hanging in there," I said. "But I think I should find a way for her to meet with Gabriella," I continued.

"Why?" Romano asks

"Because she is her best friend, and lying to her will not suffice for long."

"So, what was so funny?" I asked, strategically changing the subject.

I wanted to forget about Sophie for a while, to wipe out her face and body entirely from my mind.

But no such luck. I still thought about her. How she smiled or how she tried not to smile by yawning while covering her mouth with her hand.  

I shouldn't be attracted to her. I loved tall blond and experienced women. I abhorred innocence; maybe it's because I lost mine before I could experience it.

But I have always found innocence to be such a task, naive and downright unattractive. But here I am, attracted to a petite red-haired woman who had a tendency to shout at me. Me!

Nobody shouts at me unless they wanted my gun or fist on their face. But it was also refreshing. To her, I'm not a don, or mafia, or a killer. I'm a man. A man who just unstabilized her life. I knew she was going to hate me for what I was about to do.

Her life will never be the same again. She'll never go anywhere without a bodyguard; her face was about to be distributed if it hasn't already to various mafia families, from the American families to Italians, Mexicans, and Chinese. I bet Alberto thought he found my Achilles heel.

I looked around. We needed a bigger dining table and more chairs.

"We are moving out so we can have that in the new house," Romano said as he gazed at me. I didn't know I had said that out loud.