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 –

boys a couple

Bring it on.

the first time

when I was 14, with my first real

all downhill

all I could

my romantic activities secret by sneaking

pregnant at 18 from her boyfriend, which – since

I knew 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 birth control as soon as I could, just

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 her she was worse than the mafia about getting her

hide my sneaking around… but

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

Bleh.

teenager and go to a school specifically for that. You basically choose your life

high school for the hospitality industry – an istituto professionale. That was the closest I could

be tons more

Probably some boys bragged about sleeping with me, their

hear from other people that my daughter’s the town slut?!”

That stunned me.

that he’d

two, that he would ever call me

to hear

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

to stay in relationships long. I got bored

hard. I couldn’t sneak out anymore at night, which sucked donkey

me unfavorably to my brothers and sisters – my grades, my behavior, the way I

you be more like your sister and marry a

who snuck out just like I did, but got knocked

mother slapped me in

stared at her,

the bedroom I shared with my little

done that, I thought. Nonna NEVER would have

to move out as soon as I

way, all Italians who aren’t on the university track graduate at 17. It’s not like I did anything

went looking for a job so I could get the hell out of my parents’

in Tuscany, the vast countryside in central Italy. Our town wasn’t a tourist attraction,

why I moved to Florence, the nearest

were happy to see me go. They made a lot of snarky comments about my

in a tiny apartment, but it was still less cramped

as I wanted. And there were plenty of cute

to parties and discos, drank too much, had fun with

Except for

Sure, I could work in a tourist trap and make 2000

working my way up, but that wasn’t even a possibility. Everybody I interviewed with said I had to go to a

to cook from my grandmother,

here learned how to cook from her grandmother.

have the money for a culinary institute, and

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

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

didn’t have any money to

day and tried to save my money to go to a

was as good at saving as I’d

what little money I had left

first three years in Florence, life was great…

felt trapped in

with boys, but

to