Taming the Notorious Sicilian

‘A player from the second floor has been caught cheating. Stealing from us.’

‘Have you called the police?’

He looked at her as if she’d asked if the moon was made of chocolate. ‘That is not how we do things here.’

‘How do you do things...?’ The strangest look flitted over her face. ‘Oh. You break hands.’

The sadness in Hannah’s tone cut through him. Francesco paused to look at her properly. ‘The punishment is determined by the crime.’

‘But surely if a crime has been committed then the police should be left to deal with it? That’s what they’re paid for after all.’

‘This is Sicily, Dr Chapman. The rules are different here.’

‘Because that’s what you were taught by your father?’

Her question caught him up short. ‘It’s nothing to do with my father. It’s about respect and following the rules.’

‘But who makes the rules? This is your empire, Francesco. Your father isn’t here anymore. You’re an adult. Your actions are your own.’

The air caught in his lungs, an acrid taste forming in his throat. ‘Do you have an answer for everything?’

‘Not even close.’ She looked away, avoiding his gaze. ‘If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to wait downstairs.’ Her tone had become distant.

His stomach rolled over. ‘Nothing will happen to the cheating thief on these premises.’

‘I don’t want anything to happen to him off the premises, either. I’m a doctor, Francesco. I can’t be—won’t be—a party to anything that harms another person. I know this is your life and what you’re used to, but for me...’ She shook her head. ‘I could never live with myself. Can you get one of your men to take me back to the villa?’

‘Wait in the bar for me,’ he said. ‘I’ll be with you in ten minutes.’

Not smiling, she nodded her acquiescence and walked back down the stairs, gripping onto the gold handrail as she made her descent.

Francesco’s chest felt weighted, although he knew not why.

He never made any apologies for his life and the way his world worked. Hannah knew the score—he’d never hidden anything from her. He’d told her what it was like. He’d warned her. In fact, it was the only reason he’d brought her here, so she could see for herself that he was not worth wasting her virginity on. It was not his fault she hadn’t listened.

So why was the only thing he could see as he pushed the door open the sad disappointment dulling her eyes?

He entered the manager’s office. Mario and Roberto, another of his most trusted men, were already there, along with the cheat.

Up close, he could see the cheat was a young man in his early twenties, who looked as if he should be playing computer games with an online community of other awkward young men, not systematically ripping off casinos across the Continent. He sat in the middle of the room. He looked terrified.

There was a tap on the door and the manager walked in, handing Francesco a dossier on the blackjack player’s activity. It made for quick reading.

Mario watched him, waiting for the nod.

This was the part of the job Francesco liked the least. When he’d first bought into this, his first casino, three years ago, he’d employed his father’s old henchmen, knowing them to be reliable and loyal. Within months, he’d paid the majority of them off when it became clear they expected to continue using the methods enjoyed by Salvatore as punishment. While he had always respected his father, Francesco had always known that when the time came for him to take over, his methods would be different, less extreme.

Mario was Francesco’s man and capable of great restraint. Apart from one drug dealer who’d frequented Francesco’s Naples nightclub and who they’d discovered was pimping out vulnerable teenage girls, he never made the punishments personal and never caused damage that would not heal.

When he gave the nod, Mario and Roberto would take the young man somewhere private. They would teach him a lesson he would never forget—a lesson that rarely needed to be given, as most people were not stupid enough to try to cheat a Calvetti casino. Francesco’s reputation preceded him. And, really, this was the perfect opportunity to rid himself of Hannah. It was clear this whole situation had unsettled her enough to at least consider getting a flight home. If he gave the nod, he could guarantee she would be on the first flight back to England....

Yet her insinuation that he was following in his father’s brutish footsteps jabbed him like a spear.