Julian's Torment (Mafia Heirs 3)

“You know my name?” She smiles, admiring me. “How come I don’t know yours?”

I don’t reply, just smirk, which makes her even more curious. The girl takes a tentative step toward me, her body lightly trembling with anticipation. I wave the pack at her. “You want one?”

“Dio, no,” she giggles. “My parents would kill me.”

“Your last name is Esposito?” She nods. “I’ve heard of your family.”

“I’d be surprised if you hadn’t,” she goes on.

“Do I hear a hint of pain in your voice?” This time, she doesn’t reply. My eyes devour her as I finish my cigarette. “Are you going home alone tonight?”

“With my parents.”

“They here, too?”

“Somewhere downstairs,” she nods. “I’m sure you know how these parties work.”

“Parents downstairs, children getting up to no good on the upper floor,” I smirk. “I’ve been to enough of them to have it figured out by now.”

“You have?” She narrows her eyes at me. “How come this is the first time I’m seeing you?”

“You must not have been looking,” I reply, though I feel my heart nervously speeding up.

“What’s your name?” She eyes me with some suspicion. “And your last name?”

I’m getting really fucking nervous now and doing my best not to show it. “I’m Julian.”

“Julian...” Her pretty gray eyes swallow me up. I can tell she likes me, and, as she takes a step forward, the girl runs a finger over the front of my shirt. “Julian, what?”

“Julian, the guy whose dick you’re sucking tonight,” I grin. She doesn’t back off, doesn’t even seem surprised by my words. She just smiles.

“I’ll need to know your last name for that.”

“How so?” I can’t stop grinning. While she keeps pressing me for more information, I can tell she also wants my cock. And this game we’re playing is really fucking fun.

“Cause I don’t give attention to guys my father wouldn’t approve of.”

“What makes you think he wouldn’t approve of me?” I demand.

“You’re being elusive with information,” she smiles. “I need to know more if you want me to get on my knees for you...”

“Let’s just say, after tonight, you won’t be forgetting my name soon.”

She moves in closer. Now only a few inches are separating us, and I’m fighting the urge to pull her against me, kiss her, make her mine like I’ve wanted to do all night.

“I bet I won’t,” she purrs. “Trouble is, I’m waiting for my-”

“Francesca!”

Both of us turn to the sound of the pissed-off voice. A middle-aged, balding guy is standing on the balcony, shooting daggers at the girl I want. I can tell from her crestfallen expression he’s her father, and I instantly know we’re about to come crashing down from our brief fantasy.

“Papa,” she gets out. “I was just...”

“What?” he barks. “Associating with the help?”

I instantly pale. Fucking fuck. My cover’s been blown.

“What?” She glances at me with confusion. “You’re part of... the staff?”

The way she says it makes me feel dirty, and my brows instantly knit together as I glare at her. “You don’t need to sound so fucking disgusted.”

“Francesca, you’d better come here right the fuck now,” her father hisses. “In case you forgot, your boyfriend is about to arrive. Don’t waste another second on this boy. He’s a mere servant.”

“I didn’t know!” she cries out, making me even more embarrassed. “I would’ve never looked at him if I knew!”

She scurries after her father, not giving me another glance. I feel the shame burning my cheeks as Signore Esposito turns to face me. I can’t believe she has a boyfriend, either.

“You stay the fuck away from my daughter,” he hisses. “I don’t want to see her with a commoner like you. If I see you near her again, you’re getting your damn limbs broken.”

I don’t reply. I’m too worried this has already cost me my job.

The man storms out with his daughter in tow. I rush back to the kitchen to change back into my uniform. Shame burns me from within.

The girl and her father made me feel like shit. Like I was worthless just because I was lower class. Something changes inside me then, hurting me, reminding me I’ll always be less than the people here.

Francesca Esposito has fucking embarrassed me with her snub.

And now I’m determined that one day, I’ll make her pay.

By the time I come home, it’s getting light outside. Soon enough I’ll be up again, scrambling to find another job to make ends meet while my father drinks away my wages.

We live in a shitty part of Palermo in a tiny studio apartment. My bed’s separated from my father’s only by a cardboard wall, not that he lets that stop him from bringing home drunk women who should know better than to suck his dick while his son is sleeping a few feet away.

“Finally,” Father barks as I walk into the apartment, kicking at the beer cans littering the floor. I can already tell he’s drunk before I even see him – but when I do, I smell the booze on his breath and my fists clench, knowing I’m in for another long night.