Mafia Kings: Valentino: Dark Mafia Romance Series #6 by Olivia Thorn

Mafia Kings: Valentino: Chapter 2

I was the middle child of five kids. Our house was crazy – total chaos. The only peace I found was with my grandmother in the kitchen. She lived with us and cooked for the entire family.

My father was a bricklayer, and my mother was a schoolteacher. With so many mouths to feed, their salaries didn’t stretch nearly far enough.

My father was very serious. People used to joke that he was more German than Italian.

Always be early. If you’re on time, you’re five minutes late.

You owe your employer your very best efforts.

Never, EVER give less than 100%.

My mother prized getting good grades above everything else.

I was not serious at all, which irked my father – and I was terrible in school, which exasperated my mother.

Me?

I just wanted to cook.

My grandmother passed away when I was 11, and it was the saddest day of my life…

At least for another ten years.

But I kept on cooking and preparing all the family’s meals by myself.

I didn’t mind. I actually loved it. Working in the kitchen made me feel close to Nonna, like she was still with me.

I’ll say one thing: my parents never complained about my cooking. That was the one thing they didn’t criticize about me.

When I hit 12, I developed another obsession:

Boys.

I went boy CRAZY.

All I could think about was the cute boys at school. I would fantasize about kissing them.

I dreamed up ways of getting them to notice me. At first I tried making cannoli for them – hard pastry shells stuffed with sweet ricotta cheese and things like chocolate or nuts. They loved them, but they didn’t do anything but ask me for more cannoli.

When I finally got the attention I craved, it didn’t come from the boys in my own class – but older boys in school.

Much older.

I’m joking! They were only two or three years further along than me.

But they still seemed so worldly and cool.

Some of them even smoked.

Oooooh!

Real bad boys.

And I got plenty of their attention!

All it took was getting boobs.

I ended the school year flat-chested and came back the next fall more developed than every other girl in my grade level. All the older boys came flocking to me after that.

It was uncomfortable dealing with grown men leering at me, which felt icky and gross –

cute boys a couple years older than

Bring it on.

for the first time

sex for the first time when

all downhill from

was all I could think about. Which distressed my parents

secret by sneaking out at night. I’d

snuck out for years before she got married. She got pregnant at 18 from her boyfriend, which – since my parents were devout Catholics – meant automatic marriage. Her boyfriend

I didn’t want to settle down yet, so I sure as hell couldn’t get pregnant. As a result, I always used condoms, and I got on

so we wouldn’t snitch on her. Once she moved out, the candy stopped. But when I started sneaking around, I had to bribe my younger sister again, who demanded her cut every Friday afternoon. I used to tell

hide my sneaking around… but I

father both yelled at me non-stop, telling me I was ruining my life. But I already knew I didn’t want to go to university. University was for people who wanted to read and study

Bleh.

you choose a profession while you’re a teenager and go to a school specifically for that.

went to a high school for the hospitality industry – an istituto professionale. That was the closest

my parents had told me there would be tons more cute guys at university, I might

boys bragged about sleeping with me, their parents

hear from other people that my daughter’s the town

That stunned me.

that he’d

two, that he would ever call

was horrible to hear

few more guys than other girls had – but almost everyone in my class was hooking up. It’s not like I was the lone sinner in a sea of saints. And I wasn’t sleeping with just anybody. Most of the time I had boyfriends, and I was always faithful to them while

in relationships long. I got

they clamped down hard. I couldn’t sneak

to my brothers and sisters – my grades, my behavior, the way I dressed – but one day my mother

more like your sister and marry a nice boy?” she

out just like I did, but got knocked up by one of

me in

stared at her, stunned

ran back to the bedroom I shared with my little sister and

I thought. Nonna NEVER would have hit

to move out as

Italians who aren’t

went looking for a job so I could

small town in Tuscany, the vast countryside in central Italy. Our town wasn’t a tourist attraction, so there wasn’t a lot of work

Florence, the nearest big city with

a lot of snarky comments about my sex life, but I

to Florence. I lived with two roommates in a tiny apartment, but it was still less cramped than my

could date as many cute guys as I wanted. And there

and discos, drank too

was awesome. Except for

Florence would hire me as a cook. Sure, I could work in a tourist trap and make 2000 gallons of spaghetti per day – but I didn’t want that. I wanted to work in

wasn’t even a possibility. Everybody I interviewed with said I had to go to a fancy culinary

from my grandmother, but they all laughed in

girl who comes in here learned how to cook from her grandmother. You need more

for a culinary institute, and I couldn’t ask my

WOULDN’T ask my parents. I didn’t want to owe them anything or give

give me a cent. They’d say that if they

was they didn’t have

spaghetti a day and tried to save my money to go to a culinary

at saving as

tried – I really did! It’s just that what little money

in Florence, life

felt trapped in my horrible

but

to get