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

Mafia Kings: Valentino: Chapter 5

I immediately went back to my cooking. But as I put the finishing touches on everything, I imagined that I was cooking it all for Valentino…

That I was seducing him with my cooking.

That once he tasted my food, he would take me to bed and ravish me all night long.

I guess it worked, because when I finally dished everything up for Signora Lombardi, she tried a bite of the tagliatelle alla Bolognese and her eyes widened.

“Oh – oh, that’s good,” she murmured.

Then she tried a slice of the bread, with its crackly outside and soft, pillowy inside. She tried it by itself without any olive oil or butter – and her eyes widened again.

“Mmf,” she said, her mouth full as she chewed.

It was a good ‘mmf.’

Finally, she tried a bite of the zuccotto.

This time her eyes closed and she made a face like the love of her life had just slipped his cock inside her.

“Mmmmm,” she moaned with her mouth closed.

I really hoped Aunt Giovanna was right when she said my cooking was better than sex.

“Mm… very good. Excellent,” she said as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Better than I’ve had in many Michelin-starred restaurants.”

I beamed like a five-year-old at Christmas.

“If it were up to me, I would hire you in an instant,” Signora Lombardi said.

My smile fell.

“…but it’s not up to you?” I asked, crestfallen.

She smiled sympathetically. “There’s someone else you need to talk to first.”

The next part of the interview was far scarier.

Signora Lombardi took me to a parlor near the front door of the mansion. Inside was a dark wood-paneled room filled with leather chairs. Bottles of expensive booze sat on a bar by the wall, and the faint scent of cigar smoke lingered in the air.

A guy was working on a sofa, sorting through sheets of paper laid out on a coffee table in front of him. He was dressed in a light blue dress shirt, although it was open at the neck and untucked over his expensive dress pants.

He looked like he could have been Valentino’s brother, except he was several years older, clean-cut, and more slender than muscular.

And not as hot.

Definitely very, very cute…

Just not as hot as my dream boy.

“Signor Rosolini,” Signora Lombardi said. “This is the new prospect I was telling you about – Caterina Martinelli.”

The guy looked up, locked eyes with me, and gave me a charming smile.

“Ciao, bella! Call me Niccolo. Please – sit,” he said, motioning towards a chair opposite him.

down and watched nervously as

very tense. A drink,

might not be wise to booze it up in front

smile and waggled his finger at me. “Good – good! That was a test. A little one. Don’t need people drinking on the job. You passed. In fact, you can stop worrying – you practically have the job. Signora Lombardi was effusive in

were quite complimentary, and

stood out

“…practically?” I asked.

of the background check,” Niccolo said. “You don’t have

grateful that the cops had let me and

We checked you out before you even stepped foot on the property. But

I swallowed hard. “Okay.”

on the top

heard about my family?” he asked in a

Oh shit.

you

Niccolo laughed.

Then he stopped laughing, and his smile faded. “I meant specifically about my family, though. And I urge you to be completely and

Oh shit. Oh SHIT.

“I…”

cocked his head to the side and waited, never taking his eyes off

“That… you’re…”

I trailed off.

said as he raised

couldn’t answer him and look him in the eye at the

you’re mafia,”

a

Niccolo burst

looked up in

family. Let me assure you, they’re just that: rumors. We’re importers and exporters. We deal in wine and olive oil. We have one business here, another business there. What we are not, however, is anything having to do with organized crime.

He seemed

then his smile turned

men with guns on the property. They’re our bodyguards. We’ve been robbed before, you see. In fact, the government robs us every year on tax day,” he said, chuckling at his

don’t have a

exes,

Non-Disclosure Agreements – but I wanted to be sure there was nothing that might

gaze wasn’t

wasn’t friendly,

an implied threat in everything he

to make sure I got the message without having to say it out

wind up

sure the

was subtly letting me know that they were… and was that going to be a

what I’d seen in movies and heard from gossip in my

I would have run away out of fear

my life in

job somewhere like this, cooking for a living, then I’d do just

was going to be a certain incredibly handsome man dropping by the kitchen now and

tell anyone,” I

said, then clapped his hands together. “You’ll live here on the estate in the house –

will?!” I

great a cook Signora Lombardi says you

that,” I said, and I was. I would’ve cut onions and garlic for years in a top restaurant if I could’ve only gotten