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

Mafia Kings: Valentino: Chapter 72

Teaching Isabella and Ludavica how to use an iPhone was like trying to teach two time travelers from the 1800s.

It astounded me how little they knew –

But it wasn’t their fault. They’d been closed off from the outside world ever since they were little. Maybe even since they were born.

Anyway, they marveled over how they could see almost anything.

I thought they might start Googling porn – dick pics, maybe –

But they didn’t.

I guess they were too innocent.

Instead, it was all about works of art. Paintings, statutes, that sort of thing.

And pictures of cities – Tokyo, Athens, Moscow.

And cat videos.

They seemed to like those.

“It’s so cute!” Isabella cried out – a lot.

When we finally got to Cefalù, I took the phone back.

“Awwwww!” both girls whined.

“Time to go see the world in person and not on a fuckin’ phone,” I said as I handed it to Paolo.

“…okay,” Isabella grumbled.

Cefalù was a beautiful medieval town on the seaside.

Narrow, winding streets made of cobblestone.

Apartment balconies overhead with brightly colored laundry drying on the railings.

And everywhere you looked, shops for tourists: cafés and restaurants, clothing stores, knick-knack stalls full of tchotchkes.

There were all those shops for tourists because there were tourists everywhere. They thronged the streets, snapping pictures, and stopped off for cappuccinos or glasses of wine.

Isabella and Ludavica alternated between staring at everything in openmouthed wonder and shrinking away from the crowds of people.

It was no wonder they shrank away: there were probably more people in the streets of Cefalù than they’d seen at any one point in their entire lives – except maybe at mafia weddings. Maybe.

I got on one side and positioned Paolo on the other. We ran interference for the girls, acting as bodyguards as we pushed our way through the crowds.

We finally reached a place where the tourists thinned out, and I herded the girls over to a streetside restaurant. We took a table and gave the server our orders, which came out a few minutes later. I had a beer, Paolo had coffee, and both Isabella and Ludavica got glasses of white wine.

“Wow,” Isabella said, her head swiveling around to take it all in.

“What’s it like getting out of the house for the first time?”

she murmured as she

was clearly overwhelmed by all the people, I could see in her eyes that she

it’s a

of a

term for any Muslim from North

what?” I asked,

over there! I’ve read about them,

with a bunch of ceramic pots sculpted to look like human faces, always in

man with a mustache and a turban, and the other was a beautiful woman, sometimes with

Gela but hadn’t thought to ask about them. Mostly because I hated Rocco and his crew and didn’t want to talk

they?”

a Sicilian thing,”

Sicilian woman of noble birth had an affair with an Arab man. When her family found out about it, they executed them both and

“Jesus,” I said, appalled.

a sigh. “Not

than the other version,” Ludavica

what?”

he has a wife and a kid he forgot to tell her about. So the Sicilian chick kills him and chops off his head, then turns it into a

“Why?!”

the guy getting his

“Ugh,” I said.

squeamish,” Ludavica

pretty hard after what I

instead I said, “No, you Sicilians are just

won’t argue with you on that

a Sicilian tradition?”

them in their homes for

why haven’t you ever seen

a wry face. “Papa

laughed darkly. “THAT’S pretty

are you talking

stared at her like You

what he does for a living?” she asked, then gave me

“You might wanna ask

immediately went pale.

bastard’s name?” I

do you know about

is out in your barn being slowly tortured

But something was off.

a horror movie, standing in front of a door in a dark

there was something terrible in the

trying to build up the courage to

Ludavica’s expression confirmed it.

practically begging me with her

say anything

immediately backed off. “Why – what do

bunch of money and ran off,” Isabella said quietly, her face

heard from Rocco,” I muttered. “That he ran off. But your dad’s trying to

flooded back

Ludavica looked grateful.

Paolo just seemed confused.