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?”

murmured as she

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

– it’s a Testa di Moro!”

of a Moor’ in

term for any Muslim from North Africa

I

them, but I’ve never

a nearby shop with a bunch of ceramic pots sculpted to

mustache and a turban, and the

hadn’t thought to ask about them.

they?” I

a Sicilian thing,”

and 10th centuries – a Sicilian woman of noble birth had an affair with an Arab man. When her

“Jesus,” I said, appalled.

a sigh.

than the other version,” Ludavica

what?” I

finds out he’s going back to North Africa – and that he has a wife and a kid he forgot to tell her about. So the Sicilian chick kills him and chops off

“Why?!”

guy getting his head chopped off instead of the

“Ugh,” I said.

squeamish,” Ludavica

it hits pretty hard after what I saw in the barn

“No, you Sicilians are just fucked

laughed. “I won’t argue with you

a Sicilian tradition?”

use them in their homes

why haven’t you ever

face.

“THAT’S

are you

stared at her like You CAN’T

of what he does for a living?” she asked, then gave me a pshaw. “Your family does

might wanna ask

went

the poor bastard’s

Marconi. What do you know about

What’s left of him is out in your barn

But something was off.

in a horror movie, standing in front

in the

still trying to build up

Ludavica’s expression confirmed it.

was practically begging

don’t say

“Why – what do you

said he embezzled a bunch of money and

muttered. “That he ran off. But your dad’s trying

back

Ludavica looked grateful.

Paolo just seemed confused.