God Of Vengeance (Kings Of Mafia)

Amelio arranged a Mercedes van and a Porsche Cayenne for the vacation in Cape Town. As we’re driven to the hotel, my eyes are on Gabriella, who’s grinning as she stares at the landscape.

“It’s so green, and the mountain is stunning,” she tells Mamma.

She was surprised when I allowed us all to travel in the same vehicle, and I had to explain the risk of an attack isn’t as high on vacation as it is in New York.

“The roads aren’t as busy as in Manhattan,” Gabriella mentions. “It’s nice.”

I give her hand a squeeze and lean into her. “Are you happy, amore mia?”

She smiles at me, excitement making the green flecks in her eyes brighter. “Yes. Thank you for arranging all of this for us.”

“Emilio did all the work,” I mutter.

“You’re welcome, boss,” the fucker says from the driver’s seat.

“Don’t make me throw you out of the car,” I grumble.

When we pull up to The One & Only that’s situated near the waterfront, I slide the door open and climb out.

My muscles are stiff from all the traveling, and I suppress the urge to stretch while my eyes flick over our surroundings.

“Welcome to The One & Only,” an African man greets us with a friendly smile.

“Thank you,” Gabriella replies while she keeps her arm wrapped around Mamma’s lower back.

“I’ll get us checked in,” Emilio says.

When Gabriella leads Mamma to a garden at the side of the hotel, Carlo and I follow behind them with Vito and Tommy sticking close to us.

“There are dark gray slate stones and green reeds and plants. It’s so pretty here, Mamma,” she tells my mother. “Try to picture paradise. That’s what it feels like.”

Christ, I chose the perfect wife. She’s so good with Mamma.

Gabriella points to the right of the hotel. “When I checked the surrounding area on Tripadvisor, it said there’s an aquarium. Can we visit it?”

“Sure,” I mutter.

“And there’s a market that’s open on Saturdays,” she mentions. “I’d like to get some souvenirs.”

“Okay, amore mia.”

“And there’s a scratch patch where a person can get all kinds of crystals and stones. It’s only an hour’s drive away.”

I nod. “Whatever you want.”

Gabriella lets go of Mamma and moves closer to me. Vito quickly hooks my mother’s arm through his and leads her into the hotel lobby.

My wife wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me down for a kiss. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get plenty of rest,” she assures me before pressing her lips to mine once more.

“We’re all set,” Emilio says. “I just have to take the cars down to the parking area.”

The four extra guards I brought along on the trip go with Emilio so they can bring the luggage to our rooms.

Another African man gestures at a golf cart. “I’ll drive you to your rooms.”

I let Gabriella and Mamma get on first before I take a seat beside my wife.

Vito sits next to Mamma, and Tommy grabs the seat beside the driver.

As we’re driven around the side of the hotel, I have to admit, Emilio has outdone himself. Passing over a wooden bridge, we find ourselves on an island where the rooms are hidden between thick greenery, and seagulls cry overhead.

It really feels like paradise.

The golf cart comes to a stop, and to our right is a restaurant and pool area that has a zen feel to it.

“Your mother will stay on the ground floor, and we’ve given Mr. and Mrs. Falco the room above her so you’re close to each other,” the concierge explains.

“Thank you,” Gabriella murmurs as she glances at our surroundings. “It’s so beautiful and peaceful here.”

The concierge unlocks the door to Mamma’s suite, and when we walk inside, he explains where everything is.

I glance at Vito, and he quickly steps forward to handle the concierge while I walk out onto a small veranda that has a stunning view of the waterway that encircles the island.

Once the concierge leaves, I watch as Gabriella leads Mamma through the suite, explaining in detail where everything is.

I pull out a chair by a small round table and sit down, not wanting to rush the women.

With my eyes following them, I’m once again struck by how amazing Gabriella is with Mamma.

She was made for me.

She’s my better half in every way.

When Emilio and the other guards bring in the luggage, I climb to my feet and walk back into the room.

“Vito, my keycard.”

He hands it to me, and I say, “Stay with my mother until she’s comfortable.”

“Yes, boss.”

Taking Gabriella’s hand, I pull her out of the room and up the stairs to our suite.

I scan the keycard and shove the door open.

Once we’re inside, I bring my hands up and frame her face, my eyes drifting over every beautiful inch of her.

“There are no words to describe how much I love you,” I murmur.

Her smile softens. “I love you too.”

“It’s you and me forever, amore mia.”

She pushes herself up on her tiptoes, and against my lips, she breathes, “Forever.”

As I kiss her with a hunger only she can create in me, I once again thank all that’s holy I took her for myself.

Gabriella

It takes a whole week for Damiano to finally relax, and I’m proud to say I even have him wearing jeans and a T-shirt.

But he still walks around with a murderous expression on his face that scares the hotel staff half to death.

“Stop scowling at everyone,” I whisper as we walk down a path that leads to the market.

There are sailboats in a small bay area and the summer sun shines brightly down on us.

“I’m not scowling,” he mutters, just as a mom and a toddler walk by us.

The poor kid takes one look at Damiano, then his bottom lip trembles, and he cries at his mom to pick him up.

“You’re making children cry,” I say as I slap his arm, then I spot a floating deck where seals are sunbathing. “Oh my gosh! Look. Seapuppies.”

I hurry to Mamma’s side and quickly explain, “There are seals bathing in the sun. They’re so fat but cute.”

“They stink,” Damiano mutters under his breath.

A baby seal clambers onto the deck and makes a barking sound as he climbs all over the others to get to his mom.

“Oh, they’re loud,” Mamma mentions. “And Damiano’s right. They smell quite bad.”

I glance at the seals again before pulling Mamma in the direction of the aquarium so we can get out of the sun.

I spend time at every display explaining what the different fish look like before Vito comes to take Mamma from me.

The next room is dark, and there are cylinder tubes with tiny jellyfish moving through the water.

Damiano catches my eye from the other side of the display, and I watch as he slowly walks closer to me, a look of awe on his face.

“What?” I chuckle when he stops to just stare at me.

“Have I told you how fucking breathtakingly beautiful you are?”

“Language,” a mother hisses as she shoots Damiano a glare.

His features quickly settle into a ruthless expression as his dark gaze flicks to her, and she quickly grabs her children’s hands and hurries to the next room.

I close the distance to Damiano and shake my head at him. “My scary mafioso.” I give him a serious look. “Are you happy?”

“Of course.” His features soften as he brushes his knuckles over my cheek. “Why do you ask?”

I poke my finger at his chest. “Then smile before they kick us out.”

The corners of his mouth lift as he mutters, “The things I do for you.”Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

“It’s because you love me,” I chuckle.

I take his hand and weave our fingers together before we continue to walk from one room to the next.

When we leave the aquarium, we head to the market, where we saunter from stall to stall until it’s time for lunch.

Once we’re back at the hotel and seated at a table, I read the menu to Mamma so she can decide what she’d like to eat.

“I’ll have salmon sushi,” Mamma says. “And a glass of white wine.”

I glance over the menu again. “I’ll have the wagyu beef tacos and zucchini tempura.”

“And to drink?” the waiter asks.

“Just a Coke with lemon and ice, please.”

While everyone else places their orders, I glance out the windows at the beautiful view of nature and the waterway around the island where our rooms are.

Damiano takes hold of my hand and sets it down on his thigh while brushing his thumb over my wedding and engagement rings.

When I glance at him, a soft smile curves his lips, and seeing the loving expression on his face, my heart swoons.

He’s trying so hard to be less brutal on our vacation.

I lean closer to him and press a kiss to his mouth. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, amore mia.”

When I pull back, I stare deep into his dark eyes, thinking how lucky I am to be his wife.

Out of everyone, my god of vengeance chose me.

Tilting his head, he asks, “What are you thinking about?”

“That I’m the luckiest woman alive.”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “Not half as lucky as I am.”

I give him a tender kiss, then whisper, “Ti amo, il mio re.”