Her Mafia Daddy - Chapter 25: Chapter 25

"Did you sleep last night?" Marco asked."Three hours or so." It was the usual amount. I hadn't had a good night's sleep since I was fourteen years old.
"Rav, you can't keep going like this. You'll have a heart attack at your desk."
"Then I'll expect you to cry at my funeral."
"I'll be sure to wear white."
"Coglione." The insult made him grin. "You love me."
I did. He was the one person I trusted implicitly. Speaking of…. "Celestina arrives today at noon. I need you to handle it. Set her up in the ballroom and make sure Valentina chooses a dress."
"Sure you don't want to oversee the dress selection? Maybe watch her try them on?"
I did, and that he read me so well only infuriated me. "Fuck you."
"He didn't fuck her last night." I tried not to let my expression change. "Oh? And how would you know?" They'd been in Dimitri 's bedroom and she came out without her shoes on.
"No beard burn, no swollen lips. She looked pensive, not satiated." I hated admitting it, but this news eased something in my chest. Cristo, I
was pathetic. "Fucking her before the wedding would be disrespectful and my son knows his place. Besides, I am not certain why you think I'd care."
Marco smirked. "Sure, Rav. Anything else?"
"Get out of here so I can get to work." Later that afternoon, I heard the yelling all the way from my office. I instantly knew who was causing trouble. Cazzo, this girl.
Grinding my teeth together, I rose out of my chair and tugged on my jacket. I'd avoided her all day, knowing I'd have to deal with her after she I chose a dress. But I couldn't have her annoying Celestina, who was an old friend.
A steady stream of Italian curses echoed all the way down the corridor. Celestina had a foul mouth and a short fuse. Probably why I liked her. I strode into the ballroom. The two women were facing off near a row of dresses and Celestina was cursing Valentina 's ancestors. I didn't allow myself to look at my son's fiancée. "Ciao, Tina," I called.
"Come stai?" The tiny dark-haired designer spun around. "Dai! This girl, bello. I cannot take it. She has no fashion sense. She is turning her nose up at every dress. My dresses!"
I kissed her cheeks. "But that is why I've brought you. Because you are the best and we must teach her what it means to be a Ravazzani, no?"
"What are you two saying?" Valentina snapped, her Italian not strong enough to keep up with us. That was probably for the best, when it came to Celestina and her colourful language.
"We are saying," Tina spat in English, "that you have no fashion sense and are a pain in the ass." Valentina gasped, her creamy skin flushing. "All I said was that I didn't want to wear white."
Tina made a noise and gestured to me as if to say, see? "There are a few ivory dresses," I pointed out. "Perhaps you could try those on."
"No. I want to wear black. Or red." She set her chin stubbornly. Here was the spoiled mafia princess, the piccola monella. Her father had clearly allowed her too much latitude. That stopped now.
I looked at Tina. "I need a word with Signorina Mancini. Would you mind taking your assistants to the kitchen? Zia will give you caffé and biscotti."
"Of course, bello." Tina herded her team out of the ballroom and Marco disappeared as well. Then we were alone. Strolling to the dresses, I slowly examined them. Tina was the most sought-after wedding dress designer in Italy, and each gown was unique.
There were four racks of at least fifteen dresses each. Plenty for Valentina to choose from. "I thought we had a deal," I said, continuing to shift through the gowns.
"You said I am allowed to choose my own dress."
"No, I said you had to choose a suitable dress. No member of the Ravazzani family will wear black or red at a wedding."
"Then perhaps I shouldn't become a member of the Ravazzani family." I dropped the gown in my hand and advanced on her, the soles of my leather shoes slapping angrily on the wooden floor. Valentina began backing away from me, but it was too little, too late. While I admired her spirit and yes, it turned me on there were times when she needed to obey orders. This was one of those times.
Fear flashed in her gaze when her back hit the wall. I kept coming, closing the distance until I crowded her into the plaster. She looked up at
me, pulse pounding at the base of her throat, her chest rising and falling quickly. She wore a simple strapless sundress, and I was proud that my eyes remained on her face, not drifting to the bare skin on display.
I braced my hands on either side of her head and leaned in, my body caging hers. "Do you know what happens to those who disobey my orders?"
She lifted her chin. "Dimitri won't allow you to hurt me."
I sneered. "You think I should use my son as a shield against me? I am the ruler of this family and Dimitri answers to me. I can do whatever I wish, whenever I wish. You would be wise not to cross me, Valentina ."