Mia Figlia

Chapter 17 ✔️

Pov Stella

"Mario, where do I find a dictionary?" I asked the middle-aged man who was the housekeeper's husband. Francesca had talked a lot when she showed me my room. Winking she had told me that it was next to Riccardo's. As if I cared. I rather stayed as far away as possible from this dangerous man. Particularly since he had made sexual innuendos. Although I was certain that I was not his type of woman, it scared me. Never fucking ever, I wanted to sit on his lap. Not after what had happened to me years ago.

I shook my head. It felt weird. His whole behavior was odd. One moment he was gentle, for example when he discovered my scars. Then he insulted me again or looked at me like I was a piece of meat. What was wrong with this guy? Except from him being the boss of a mafia family.

"Follow me, ragazza. I will show you our library." The older man said.

Library? A smile found its way on my lips. Happily, I followed Mario until we reached two gigantic doors at the second floor. They flung open and I knew right away that this room would be my favorite place. Bookshelves covered every single bit of wall. Not ordinary bookshelves, no. Mister Mafia had an extraordinary taste, not only concerning the mansion itself. The dark wooden bookshelves, I guessed the wood was mahogany, reached up to the ceiling. Literature classics side by side in a row. Books in foreign languages, most of them in Italian, Spanish and French, stood a little further. I found old lexicons, atlases, and the dictionaries I was looking for as well. The only thing I did not see were children's books. He seriously wanted to take care of my daughter, and he did not have a single children's book? I would soon change that.

In the middle of the room was a medium-sized antique desk, like the one I had seen in Riccardo's office, only smaller here. The chair looked comfortable, thickly upholstered, and covered with leather, but the large sofa in the middle of the room convinced me more.

"If you need something else, let me know. I will make sure that you get it." I heard Mario's calm voice behind me.

"A pad and pen would be very helpful." I turned to him and gave him a friendly smile. So far, I had no idea what his role was on this property, but his clothes suggested that he was of a higher rank.

He was wearing an Armani three-piece grey suit. I was convinced that his dress shoes were from Italy as well. He radiated class like Riccardo but had a much friendlier aura. For a mafioso, surprisingly, he looked more like the nice uncle. Possibly because he was only about five feet seven tall and a little corpulent. He was certainly not the don's father. Who was he?

"May I ask you something?" I looked at the Italian, waiting patiently.

"Sure, ragazza." His eyes lit with an inner glow. I suspected that he appreciated my curiosity.

"What is your role here? You seem too important to just be an employee."

"I am the consigliere. Do you know what that means?"

I shook my head. Never had to deal with the mafia before in my life, particularly not the Italian. Although I would not be surprised if my father knew one or two mafiosi. In all likelihood more due to his job. But well, had not seen him for years and was not planning to visit him anytime soon. Hell, I would most likely not be able to leave this property for an exceptionally long time. At least not alive, though I would not be surprised if there were even a cemetery somewhere in the backyard.

"The consigliere is the adviser of a family. Family policy, investments and other things like that." He shrugged his shoulders. "And in your case, I will make sure that you feel at home here. It is delightful to see Isabella this happy now. I already told Riccardo before that he had to take you in, but that stubborn boy refused to listen. Everyone here is glad that he finally came to his senses. If you would excuse me now, unfortunately I have other work to do. You will find a pad and a pen in one of the drawers." He pointed at the desk.