Chapter 37: "Good evening, boys!"

POV: Beatrice

It was the night of the party, three days later, after three days of clashes with Stefano, three days in which he would tease me at the coffee and dinner table and then leave me frustrated, reminding me that it was part of his plan, when he decided to walk away. After that night, there were three days in which I noticed his eyes on my thirsty body, even though we both pretended not to. Even though I still thought that at any moment he would change his mind about Paola, that didn't happen, and somehow he knew how much it would annoy me. We exchanged words only to fight, aware that everything would be resolved the moment we were fucking each other like two savages, but too proud to give in to it.

Despite everything, Stefano won a victory, and this was apparently cause for celebration for the family. Stefano chose Paola, but that morning, when we argued once again, he made it clear that, as well as not being his date, my son and I weren't going to that celebration anyway.

My cheeks burned, but that could only mean that Stefano was trying to keep me away from everyone, and the reason could only be one: I wasn't family, as he put it. I wondered if he was trying to protect us, which was why he pretended to need my services as an escort, or if he simply preferred Paola to me, despite his efforts to fight a battle with me, perhaps out of pure ego.

Whatever the answer, I wouldn't stay in that mansion, no matter what Stefano said. As I went upstairs, I saw Giovanni talking to the soldiers at the door. I refused to stay in that hot room without any chance of fun, I would go to the salon that was a little way from the house, in a separate place from the mansion that would still be properly protected but that its guests would not have access to.

The sun had already set, and I continued to look at the dress options I had after my son had been properly prepared for bed. I realized now how much they liked late-night parties, perhaps after their criminal work had been properly completed or because they attracted less attention.

The options were few, as I needed something sufficiently provocative and luxurious. I chose one of the red ones that Stefano had ordered; it was pretty enough for the occasion, although short. But in the color I knew Stefano liked on me, I didn't care, not with the anger I felt towards Stefano now. My make-up was ready and perfect to catch the eye of anyone who looked at me.

I walked down the stairs, my thick heels clacking against the floor and echoing in the tall, empty space of the mansion. I opened the door, and some of the men tried to stop me from going through, an order that I knew hadn't exactly come from Stefano. Since they didn't seem convinced of what they were doing, they seemed tempted to let me go if I pushed them a little.

"You know I'm Stefano's wife, don't you?" I asked them, my nose held high, my pose perfect, the lie perfectly prepared on the tip of my tongue. "One word, and you're dead," I said, noticing their faces grow a little more fearful, leaving them certain that this order didn't come from my son's father.

They looked at me for a few minutes and talked amongst themselves, then gave way. My feet walked across the lawn until I heard the sound of music and people talking. I reached the door, and a few women looked at me discreetly, along with some men I had already seen. They all turned away quickly, as if they remembered who I was from the night I'd shown up at the casino.

There weren't many men; Stefano had prepared something more discreet than when we were together that night. Although my arrival wasn't noticeable to everyone, as they seemed to be busy gambling, playing loud music and smoking their cigarettes, I was glad of it. After all, I had managed to evade their soldiers.

I marched through the crowd, grabbing a shot of whiskey from the tray they were passing around and downing it in one gulp, feeling the burn go down my throat and easing the tension even more. From there, I could see that the music was coming from an exclusive DJ, accompanied by about three dancers who moved sensually, almost naked, since men were the only ones privileged in this respect.

I rolled my eyes, asking for my empty glass to be refilled, even though I hadn't eaten anything, and continued walking, finding Stefano at the poker table next to Paola, positioned on her legs, just as he had done with me.

The vibrant atmosphere of the place enveloped me, stimulating my desire to put an end to the mafia boss's tranquility, as well as the adrenaline and lust that burned inside me just by looking at his clothes.

Stefano looked even more handsome in that red suit that perfectly matched my clothes rather than Paola's. He was playing with a serious expression, his attention focused on the cards in his hands, while Paola fidgeted in his lap, looking at him with malice. High stakes were placed, and immeasurable sums of money exchanged hands. Seductive laughter and suspicious looks filled the room.

I watched Stefano smile subtly, revealing his confidence in winning yet another game. With each move, he showed himself to be more and more skilled, calculating and determined, and I knew that he didn't get tired of it because he always won; his men weren't as good. Paola, on the other hand, possessed a seductive aura for Stefano, who, despite seeming thirsty for sex, didn't seem to care more about her than the game.

Her movements were mesmerizing, and I missed the sensations that being at a poker table gave me. An overwhelming desire to join them grew in me, risking anything, even Stefano's fury, in search of a little more fun. I took another drink and decided to approach the table.

"Good evening, boys!" My voice echoed, and I felt everyone's eyes on me, especially Stefano's, whose smile disappeared.

Everyone looked at me in astonishment at my interaction without greeting the don of the Cosa Nostra with the traditional kiss on the knuckles. Stefano's body rose, and although I knew he had accepted this a long time ago, perhaps it was worthless when you were in front of his familiar.

He took Paola off his lap and stood up, coming slowly towards me, his hands behind his back, the gun perfectly placed at his waist, this time larger than usual; perhaps the occasion demanded it. I couldn't help myself, and swallowed as he came face-to-face with me, our eyes locked in a clash.

"You know what you have to do." His thick voice came out, ordering me to follow the traditions while maintaining his appearance.

My heart was pounding as I slid my gaze down to his ring, my head still held high enough. I touched his thick hand, bringing me even closer to his body, the scent of his alone invading my nostrils. I kissed his ring, a quick touch that anyone could tell showed not a hint of devotion. This touch, like the first time, sent a surge of electricity through my body, and I released it immediately, pulling away from his body and his gaze, taking a deep breath, and returning to my original pose, my hands crossed in front of my body.

"Everybody out!" He ordered, letting almost a scream escape his lips in anger.