Mafia Kings: Dario: Chapter 43

I told a servant to let Niccolo know I wasn’t feeling well, and I stayed in my room during dinner. He had the kitchen send up some food.

Thank God Filomena didn’t deliver it.

Later that evening, as I was lying in bed, I heard the door open.

The moment I’d been dreading had come.

Dario came to the bed, leaned over me, and tried to kiss me.

I turned my face away so that he kissed my cheek instead.

He roughly grabbed my chin and turned me towards him – then kissed me on the lips.

I struggled to break free. “Stop!”

He let go of me. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to tonight.”

He switched on the light next to my bed and sat next to me. “Are you alright?”

I looked away from him miserably. He was so handsome that it made me want to give in… to do like Caterina had said and throw caution to the wind.

“…no,” I murmured.

He caressed my arm. “What’s wrong?”

His touch was so sensual… and I wanted him so badly…

“I’m not your whore,” I whispered.

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss my neck. “Of course you are.”

I pushed him away. “NO, I’m not!”

He stood up, furious and bewildered. “Madonn – what’s gotten into you?!”

I looked up at him with tears in my eyes. “Do I mean anything to you?”

His face softened. “Of course you do. A great deal, actually.”

“Do you think of the future… with me in it?”

Dario narrowed his eyes. “Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

I suddenly felt embarrassed and insecure. “I don’t know… what do you think I’m asking?”

“It sounds like you’re talking about marriage.”

I looked up at him helplessly.

Suddenly, without warning, he laughed.

I stared at him in horror…

Then turned away from him with a heaviness in my heart.

“Alessandra, we’ve known each other for less than two weeks,” he said, his voice slightly angry. It got angrier as he spoke. “I’ve been the head of my family for only three. I’m in the middle of what could be a war between my family, a gangster from Turkey, and various factions of the Cosa Nostra, none of whom will actually challenge me to my face. They want to destroy me and my brothers – to take everything we have, everything our father and grandfather built. Death is all around me… financial ruin is staring me in the face… and you’re asking me, after a week of fucking, whether I intend to marry you?”

After a week of fucking.

That was all the answer I needed.

“I want to go home,” I whispered.

“You can’t go home,” he snapped. “My enemies are out there.”

I looked at him, suddenly furious. “You said it yourself – they want to destroy you. They want to destroy YOUR family. They don’t give a damn about me. So let me go.”

He sat down on the bed and tried to take my hand. I wouldn’t let him.

“Alessandra,” he said, trying to sound reasonable, “they nearly killed you in Florence – ”

“They nearly killed Massimo and Valentino. I was just there by accident.”

Dario turned away from me. I could tell he was angry and trying to control his temper.

When he spoke again, he was at least partially composed. “Look… it’s dangerous. They will try to get at me through you – ”

“And that’s all you care about, isn’t it?”

“I care about YOU, GOD DAMMIT!” he roared as he stood up from the bed.

I shrank down in fear as he angrily paced back and forth.

Then he sat back down next to me. “I care for you. I do.”

“But you don’t love me,” I whispered.

His face hardened. “What are you saying – that you love me?”

I nodded, and tears spilled down my cheeks. “Even though I was a fool to do so, it seems.”

Something happened to his expression, then – something I had never seen on Dario’s face before:

He looked like he was in pain.

Like inside, he was breaking.

“I can’t let you go,” he whispered.

“I’m just a whore,” I said bitterly, “good for a week of fucking. You can always get another.”

The vulnerability that had been there on his face suddenly disappeared, replaced by a cruel mask.

“So be it,” he said coldly. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s not what I want!” I cried out.

“THEN WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” he shouted at me.

“I want you to love me,” I sobbed. “I want you to want to marry me.”

He stared at me for what seemed like forever…

And then he said, “That’s the one thing I can’t give you.”

I broke down crying into my hands.

There was a long silence. Then…

“I’ll arrange for someone to take you back,” he said quietly.

I heard his footsteps across the floor…

I heard the door open and close…

And he was gone.

I collapsed in the bed and wept…

Maybe even harder than the day my mother had died.