What in the world?
“You’re a deviant, you know that?”
He bends and slides my bikini bottoms off as he pours oil all over my sex and massages it in with his strong fingers, my legs widen as I stare up at him in awe.
“As if you don’t love it.” He whispers darkly.
He’s right…. I totally do.
* * *
The room is steamy and hot, Giuliano and I are top and tail in the huge bathtub. He is massaging my feet as they rest on his chest. We’re having the best time, we spent the day in bed yesterday, we went out for dinner last night and drank way too many cocktails, went clubbing and got home way too late.
Today we’ve spent swimming and lying in the sun, I feel so relaxed.
I stare over at the man sitting opposite me, some people get uglier the more that you get to know them.
Not him.
Giuliano Ferrara gets dreamier and dreamier.
He’s hard and cold with everyone, but not with me. I see the other side, the real him, soft and loving. The kind of man you could live a lifetime or ten with.
“Can I ask you something?” I say.
“I take it…” he massages my feet, “… you’re going to anyway.”
“The crime.”
He glances up. “What about it?”
“What is it?”
He continues his massaging. “It’s not for you….” He pauses as if choosing his words correctly. “It’s not for you to worry about.”
“I’m not stupid, I know it’s there.” I shrug, I need to know what he’s capable of. “Do you murder people?”
“I don’t.”
My eyes hold his. “Do your men?”
“Sometimes.”
My face falls. “Oh.”
“In self-defense, nothing like your dear old grandfather, put it that way.”
“Stefano murdered people?” I frown.
He chuckles. “He didn’t just murder people, he cut them up while they were still alive.”
My eyes widen in horror and I fall silent.
Fuck.
I open my mouth to ask more.
“Chesk.” He cuts me off. “Don’t ask things that you don’t want to know the answer to, baby.” He massages the arch of my foot.
“Drugs?” My eyes search his.
“Yes.”
“You sell drugs?” I frown.
“We—” he gestures to the air between us, “Sell entertainment.”
“Entertainment?” I gasp.
“Cocaine.”
“Drugs kill people, Giuliano.”
“It’s candy for rich people.” He shrugs. “Nobody overdoses on fucking cocaine. You don’t see kids on the street buying cocaine for $1000 a pop. We’re up-market, we supply the top end of town for most of Europe, lawyers, doctors, politicians, high-caliber clients.”
Hmm….
“Well….” I think for a moment. “Where do you get it?”
“I import it from Columbia.”
“You import it?” I gasp. God, that sounds hardcore.
He smiles as he massages. “Don’t look so shocked, you think your property portfolio and designer lifestyle comes for free?”
“How do you import cocaine?” I blurt out. Oops, that was loud. I look around the bathroom guiltily. “How do you get it into the country?” I whisper.
“Border control works for me.”
My mouth falls open.
“And the police, and the judges. And anyone who wants a luxury lifestyle for their family. I pay my employees very well.”
“How much do you import?”
“It depends, usually.” He shrugs casually. “Three hundred kilograms.”
“A year?”
“A week.”
“A week?” I gasp. “What the hell? How much is that worth?” I whisper.
“Around eighty million.”
My eyes bulge from their sockets. “You make eighty million dollars a week?”
“No,” he scoffs. “We have a lot of costs, two thousand staff and multiple businesses. Things cost money, Francesca, a lot of fucking money. We do what’s necessary to provide for our staff.”
“We?”
“Alex and Val work alongside me. Carlo too.”
“What if you get caught? You’ll go to prison,” I stammer in a panic. I get a vision of my sweet Giuliano fist fighting till the death in a prison cell.
He smiles and lifts my foot and kisses it. “Trust me, compared to our ancestors that built this business, we are legitimate. We don’t bully anyone. We run an entertainment industry, nothing more, nothing less. Besides, I have protection in place.”
“What protection?”
“The yachts that it comes in on are in a false name. The people who run the ships and distribute it don’t know who we are. Nothing can be traced back to us. The business model is perfect and watertight.”
My eyes search his. “Are you sure?”
He kisses my foot again. “I’m not stupid.” He keeps massaging.
I think for a moment. “I beg to differ,” I reply. “Because I’ve made you massage my feet for an hour now, if’s that’s not stupid I don’t know what is.”
He chuckles and dives up over top of me, water sloshes over the sides. “Time to pay.”
* * *
It’s our last night in Ibiza, the last three days have been the happiest of my life.
Sun, laughter and love.
So much love.
I got ready early and went down to the hotel bar to meet Anna. After not seeing Giuliano for the last two hours, I can’t wait a moment longer to see him, I left my room key behind.