Julian's Torment (Mafia Heirs 3)

Finally, I excuse myself from the dinner table. The way Father's eyes follow me across the room and as I exit into the hallway doesn't escape me. He's already suspicious, and I'm about to make that little cagna Adrianna pay for disturbing my night so impolitely.

"What?" I bark into the phone, finally answering the call. "Why the fuck are you calling me,

Adrianna? I thought we agreed. No calls, just texts."

All that greets me on the other side of the call is the sound of somebody sobbing. Groaning, I exit onto the balcony from the main hall. I'm itching for a cigarette and to end this call as soon as I can, but first I have to find out what's going on if I have any hope of shutting up this bitch.

"What's happened?" I demand.

"I... I..." Adrianna tries to speak up but is interrupted by a bout of hiccups. I want to strangle the answer out of her. Frustrated that she's out of my reach, I run a hand through my hair and curse inwardly.

"Just spit it out, Adrianna," I hiss next. "I don't have time for this bullshit. Why don't you go running to your little boyfriend?"

"He c-can't ever find out a-about this," she hiccups.

"About what?" I demand. "What the fuck are you on about, Adrianna?"

"I'm... I'm..."

Suddenly it hits me, right before the dreadful word slips from her lips.

"Pregnant."

Fucking hell.

Father is going to kill me...

1

JULIAN

Past

I spot her the moment she walks into the room.

Long, light brown hair. Legs lean and long as hell, they make my cock throb between my legs. And a pair of gray eyes, shyly turned away from the men in this room, all of them swallowing her up with their gazes. She’s wearing black strappy heels and a strapless black dress that reaches the floor and has a slit revealing those legs as she walks. Her hair is slicked back, falling between her shoulder blades. She’s a vision in black and I can’t take my eyes off her.

I nudge a waiter working the event with me, nodding toward the brunette. “What’s her name?”

The guy laughs, throwing his head back. “I wouldn’t if I were you, Julian.”

My lips form a thin line, and I glare at him hard enough to make him sweat. “How about you don’t tell me what the fuck to do and give me the girl’s name instead?”

He swallows thickly. I can tell he’s afraid of me. Everyone is, and with good reason—my temper is a dangerous thing. Finally, the prick mutters, “She’s Francesca Esposito. Her family is one of the richest in the country.”

“Good to know.” I wink at him, and I can tell he’s biting his tongue in order not to say something else. But whatever advice he has for me, I’m not going to fucking take it. When I see something I want, it’s as good as mine. And right now, pretty Francesca is right at the top of my wish list.

I head into the kitchen to grab another platter of appetizers. My mouth waters at the sight of the food. I haven’t eaten since yesterday and I’m hungry as fuck. But I’m too nervous to sneak a snack off the platter. I already got in trouble for it once weeks ago, and I will not risk this job, because it’s all I fucking have right now.

Swallowing, I head back out with my platter of food. Francesca is laughing with a girlfriend of hers while others mingle. As guests grab food from my platter, I’m unable to tear my eyes off her.

Except I don’t want to approach her like this, in my waiter’s uniform.

If she’s anything like the rest of these mafia princesses, she’s going to look down on me for being a level beneath her. And I’ve already decided I want the girl, so I need to plan my next step carefully.

I know doing what I plan to do could cost me my job and food on the table, but I need to do it. I put the platter down in the kitchen when nobody’s looking, and shrug off the blazer that’s part of my uniform. Now I’m just in a white, crisp shirt. I roll the sleeves up and mess up my slicked back hair. I take a deep breath and walk back into the room.

I walk with a confidence I rarely feel, and my smirk is plastered on my face as I make a beeline straight for Francesca. She’s alone now, walking to the balcony that overlooks the brightly lit-up estate. My hands shake and I wipe away sweat as I step onto the balcony after her. We’ll be alone here, and I can’t let my nerves get the best of me.

Francesca turns around and her eyes land on me. “Hello.”

“Hi.” I lean lazily against the metal railing of the balcony. Pulling out a cigarette pack, I light one and feel her eyes following my every move as I take a puff. “Francesca, is it?”