Bianca

Sleep was something that never came naturally unless I was accompanied by mamá.

Knowing that she was going to lie next to me and watch over me until I fell asleep was always what lulled me into a state of bliss.

And so it only made sense that I couldn't fall asleep in this new, beautiful room. The anxiety of being in a new place was driving me insane, and so when I realized sleep wasn't going to come, I sat up in my bed.

I'd spent my day meeting some of the men and getting to know the staff. I'd lived a comfortable life with mamá, but we weren't wealthy enough to have maids, groundkeepers, and others working on call.

This was a different type of wealth.

The rest of my night had been spent in my new room, where I'd gotten ready for bed.

Knowing I was in the comfort of my room, I slipped on my favorite two-piece sleepwear set. It was a white two-piece number, a mixture of lace and silk, which made me feel cute yet sexy at the same time.

It clung to my hourglass frame, the shirt cropping just below my breasts due to their size, of them, and the shorts a little on the smaller size, but I was comfortable in them nonetheless.

I wasn't wearing a bra, nor did I ever when wearing sleepwear, because it was uncomfortable. Even though my breasts were on the larger side, I needed to let them breathe.

Slipping on my pink fuzzy slippers, I walk out into the empty hallway. The cool air hits the bare skin of my arms, stomach, and legs, making me shiver and wish I wore my robe. But I just needed to quickly grab a glass of water from the kitchen.

The silence in the hallway is eerily unsettling. I glance down the hall towards the black double doors and briefly wonder when I'll meet Alessio.

What would he be like?

I had yet to find out if the man was truly as great as mamá claimed him to be. Liam had informed me that Alessio was a very busy man. Always working and on the go, so I highly doubted I would be seeing any of him anytime soon.

My slippers slap against the marble floors as I move down the hall, but I stop short as my head snaps towards the stairs where the sound of footfall echoes through the dimly lit hallway.

No one was to be up here, but a single glance at the stranger before me makes me shut my mouth. There was no way I was going to be the one to tell him off.

The man was tall and broad, his dark hair on display as he looked down, pulling at his black tie, his other hand undoing the button of his perfectly tailored blazer. His large calloused hands then moved to loosen the top buttons of the white dress shirt underneath, exposing the firm-looking tan skin of his chest, where a gold chain poked out.

It was only when he got to the top of the stairs and looked up that my eyes widened.

Wow.

Never had I seen a man so devilishly handsome.

He was strong, I could tell that much, and not just in the physical sense. Sure, his broad frame and muscular physique were eye-catching, but his presence was utterly dominating and intimidating.

It was enough to have me sucking in a lungful of air in fear that his presence would swallow it all up.

He had beautiful tan skin and high-def cheekbones that complemented his strong jaw, where hints of a five o'clock shadow peeked out. His features were so rugged yet angelic.

His striking dark brown eyes were cold and calculating, those of a powerful man who knew what he wanted and knew how to get it. And right now they were glaring at me.

Trapped by his gaze, I could do nothing but watch as he took long strides towards me, and all I could think of was how alluring the way in which he walked was. He walked with pure dominance, like he knew the power he had, yet never gave too much away.

There was no way this was a regular man.

I'm snapped from my thoughts at the sound of his sharp voice, a voice that's filled with malice. "Who's letting puttane into my house, up on my floor?" He snaps, the pent-up rage and frustration clear in his voice. There's a slight hint of an Italian accent, making his booming voice all the more threatening. (Whores)

His tone sends alarm bells throughout my body, so much so that I find myself taking a threatened step back.

He didn't even have the decency to look at me; instead, he spat the words into the air as if someone would magically appear and give him the answer.

My eyes widen as I stare up at him in horror. I look closely at the dark bags beneath his eyes, frustration and fatigue written all across his perfectly structured face. But it's still no excuse for the way in which he's treating me.

This is why I didn't like men like him. They made me feel small and weak, and I couldn't even begin to explain the way fear would paralyze my body.

His large hand grips my forearm roughly, and before I know it, he's dragging me towards the stairs, my steps barely able to keep up with his long strides.

I open my mouth and push past the shock and fear at the sight of this stranger dragging me away. "Stop! Stop!" I breathe in complete horror.

I look up to find his jaw clenched and eyes glaring ahead. I try to yank my arm out of his grasp, and he only tightens it. "There's been a mistake. That's my bedroom! I'm staying here." I say frantically, biting down on my lower lip as tears gather in my eyes once the reality of who this man is settles in.

This vile man was nothing like mamá made him out to be. He was cruel, mean, abusive, and arguably worse than my papá.

The man stops, his broad shoulders tense before he lets go of my arm, immediately spinning around to blink down at me.

I stare up at him, my lower lip wobbling as I take a step back away from the man whose face is now scrunched up in slight confusion mixed with disbelief. "Bianca?" It's a deep, breathless whisper, like he knows the answer but doesn't want it to be true.

I nod, wiping at the tears before wrapping my arms around myself, in an attempt to cover my body from him.

"Cazzo," I hear him curse, pinching his eyes shut and digging the palms of his hands into his eyes, rubbing profusely. (Fuck)

His eyes open, and it's as if seeing me for the first time when he steps closer, his eyes immediately softening.

I take a step back.

"I'm so sorry, Principessa. Please forgive me, I... I only thought you would be younger. You look so... so different from when I last heard of you." He mumbles, his eyes snapping down my body in bewilderment before he instantly snaps them away as if it's a sin to glance at me.

"You mean when I was thirteen? Five years ago?" I spit in frustration, my face scrunching up into one of outrage as I sneer at the man.

The man before me's shoulders slump, proving just how in need of a nap he is, but I ignore my instincts telling me to help him.

He didn't deserve it.

"I don't know what I was thinking. Of course, you would grow into a beautiful young lady." He shakes his head, his brows furrowing as he looks me right in the eye. "I'm truly sorry if I terrified you and came off as harsh. I won't ever touch you like that again, I promise." The words roll off his tongue in a deep murmur, his voice soft and soothing, a complete contrast from before.

Deciding I wanted to just leave, I tightened my arms around myself and nodded hesitantly.

His eyes holding regret and uncertainty, scan my face before he goes to step closer, but then stops himself as if thinking better of it. "Please don't hesitate to let me know if there is anything I can do. I know my actions don't prove it, but I am here to help you." He says seriously.

I stare back at him, my tears drying on my face as I give him an unconvinced nod, knowing all I wanted was to stay away from him.

But before he can say anything else, I turn and scurry off into my bedroom, only allowing myself to breathe once I know I'm in the safety of my bed.

It didn't take a complete genius to realize that was Alessio Galanti - the man who was to be taking care of me.

Yet he seemed anything but caring.

. . .

Breakfast was served first thing in the morning, and it was like tradition for all the men to gather and eat together in the dining room.

I make my way down the stairs after getting ready for my day. Luckily, I didn't go back to school until tomorrow, so I had one less thing on my plate.

Greeting the house attendants and maids as I passed them, I made my way to the dining room.

It was a large room where an even larger wooden table sat in the middle, and the men gathered around it, eating their breakfast.

Making my way into the room, I make eye contact with the man sitting at the head of the table, listening to the man on his left say something in his ear, but I quickly snap my eyes away from Alessio.

Yet I can feel his eyes intently watching me as I hesitantly make my way to the chair on Liam's left, which also happens to be adjacent to him. I divert my gaze, immediately growing uncomfortable once I remember the encounter last night, as I lean over and greet Liam with a morning peck on his cheek.

Liam turns, smiling at me, "How did you sleep, Tweety?" A few of the other men turn to listen in as their conversations die down, and all attention turns to me.

"Fine." I smile politely as they all take the cue to resume with what they were doing. I had gathered it was a sign of respect or courtesy for a new guest, but it was weird.

I look down and begin picking at the breakfast laid before me, all the while feeling the gaze of the man to my left.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Did you meet Alessio?" Liam asks from next to me, "He's been the one making all your arrangements so that your transition here is smooth." Liam continues as I lift my head, looking towards Alessio, who sends me a soft, forced, polite smile.

Although I didn't know the man, the action felt foreign, and the soft tinge of guilt spreading across his face looked to be an even more infrequent thing.

I send him a tight-lipped smile back for the sake of everyone else before ignoring him and going back to my food.

Liam nudges my side. "Bianca. Where are your manners?" He hisses at me, and I want to roll my eyes. He could be such a kiss ass.

"It's fine, Liam. We already met briefly yesterday. She's a lovely girl. Just as sweet as everyone says she is." Alessio chimes in, his deep voice so commanding and loud that it naturally causes all other conversations to dim as the attention drifts to him.

I glance at Liam from the corner of my eye to see him still glaring at me expectantly. I know what he's trying to tell me, and so I slowly turn my head towards Alessio. "Thank you." I force out.

He smiles and nods awkwardly, yet his demeanour is still void of any hostility, unlike last night.

Bianca

"It's my pleasure, Bianca. You may not know a lot of us. But we all deeply cared for your mamá, and well, you of course." He says his accent is peeking through, and I give him a small, genuine smile. Mamá spoke highly of La Famiglia and loved them all.

Alessio scans my face, and I can see he's thinking about something, but he decides it's better to speak about it and focuses on his plate of food.

I do the same, all the while thinking of how uneasy I feel about being here.

. . .

I spend the rest of the day moping around in the comfort of the room that I have now claimed as my sanctuary. I debate calling Jacob or Lily, but I think better of it. They were most likely busy, nor did I really feel like talking to anyone but mamá.

I glance down at her diamond bracelet, which I always wear, and smile at how much she loved this thing. It wasn't the prettiest, but it was the first expensive gift papá had ever given to her.

I was to return to school tomorrow, seeing as my personal holiday was coming to an end, and so, with a less-than-excited huff, I got up and prepared my school uniform. It's only when I'm setting the uniform down on my desk that I hear a knock on my bedroom door.

I wasn't expecting anyone, and so I quickly managed to throw on an oversized crew neck - one that reached mid thigh - in fear of another man seeing me and thinking badly of me. Even if I wore them for myself.

Deciding better of opening the door, I crawl into bed, hiding my bare legs underneath the covers as I call for them to come in.

Not a second later, the door opens, allowing Alessio's tall build to enter, and I stare at the man, mildly shocked.

Alessio makes his way into the room, the sound of his shoes hitting the wooden floors with every step he takes, making me cringe. I thought shoes weren't to be worn inside, well, in the manor's case, the second floor.

He was in a white button-up, with the top few buttons loose and the sleeves rolled up, giving me a good view of his muscular, veiny forearms. The shirt exposed the muscular build of his broad shoulders and thick arms that strained beneath the white material.

He wore slacks, and my gaze went to the watch on his wrist peeking out of the pocket of his slacks. He was surely the most attractive man I had ever seen.

His apprehensive demeanor is so unlike him, yet it only intensifies as he approaches my bed, his hands buried in his pockets. He looked so out of his element, and I wanted to examine him, but I was too busy averting my gaze to my lap.

"May I?" He questions, nodding towards the bed.

I nod, moving over, making sure to cover my bare legs from him in fear of yet another blow-up.

He seems to notice as a frown forms on his lips, and he shakes his head at me. "Please, Principessa. Don't feel like you have to cover up in front of me or any of my men." He takes a seat on the edge of my bed, his large body making everything else look smaller as he shifts towards me.

I scoff, but manage to tone down the sass of my voice, reminding myself that this guy was the don of an affluent crime family I was talking to. "Easier said than done."

"What I said yesterday was inexcusable. But know that you are free to wear whatever makes you comfortable in this house, free of judgment." He clarifies, his tone soft.

I stare up at him blankly, willing myself not to snap at him, for I didn't truly know what the man was capable of if I upset him. After all, he was the mafia don.

His thoughtful gaze moves to my comforter as he sighs. "Liam told me about you liking to wear nice things that make you feel good. So please don't stop because of a stupid comment I made." He looks up, meeting my eye. And although I don't want to, I believe his sincerity.

"What if it happens again?" My tone is soft and hesitant.

Alessio's head snaps up to mine as a hard look covers his face. "It won't. I won't. You have my word."

I nod, believing him, but the frown on my face stays put. "What if the others say something?"

His hard eyes turn cold, and I momentarily think that I have done something wrong. I lean away from him, the action causing his face to soften in realization. "If anyone says anything or does anything, you come to me and tell me, yes?" It's not a question, and my heart momentarily warms at the genuine concern in his voice. He moves closer, staring into my eyes with a look of promise. "I'll handle it, okay?"

"Okay." I smile, the surge of comfort I feel telling me to push it and make things that much harder for him.

A small mischievous smile forms on my lips as I look at him. "But what if..." I furrow my brows, trying to think of something else to say to make it difficult for him, but I'm interrupted by an exasperated, deep groan as Alessio falls back onto the bed.

I giggle, throwing my head back before looking back down to see him staring up at me with a small smile on his face. The type that I want to keep hidden away from everyone else.

It's not in politeness, or because he feels forced to, it's genuine. My smile grows at the sight of such a small yet magnificent sight that could probably bring me to my knees.

Quite literally.

"Give me a break, please. I've been going insane thinking I made things worse for you already." He mumbles, making a show of being extra dramatic. I chuckle in relief, smiling shyly at the suddenly sweet man before me.

Now, this was the Alessio mamá had talked about.

"Okay," I say, taking my pointer finger to poke his cheek.

His smile drifts into a firm look as he sits up and tilts his face to look me in the eye. His eyes regard me with sympathy. "I am truly sorry for the circumstances we must meet under, and I am extremely sorry for your loss." My smile instantly drops at the mention of Mamá. I hated to admit it, but I had spent weeks crying myself to sleep every night. Except for those nights, I had the comfort of someone else sleeping next to me.

Tears gather in my eyes, but I don't want him to see them fall. I hear him shuffle closer as he hesitantly lays a hand on my shoulder in comfort, and I look up to him, seeing a sad smile form on his face. "Your mamá was like family to me. I'm so sorry we failed to protect her. But I will do everything in my power to make sure nothing like that happens to you." He assures, and I force a sad smile.

His eyes scan my face, pausing at my pale blue, almost grey eyes. "Christo, you have eyes just as amazing as your mamá's." He murmurs, smiling sadly, and it's only then that I realize how hard her loss must have been for him, too.

"Mamá used to tell me all about you," I say. He lifts his head, his brown eyes scanning mine for a moment, seeming to be looking for something, and when he doesn't find it, relief settles.

"Your mamá used to tell me about you all the time, too." He nods, his jaw twitching slightly in memory.

I ignore his behavior as my ears perk. "Really? What did she say?"

"She said you're smart, talented... and beautiful." He sends me a lopsided smile as I move closer to him. "She was right." He murmurs, and I beam at him, the compliments making me feel so giddy that I have the urge to hug him, and so, I launch myself into his arms.

He freezes as I wrap my arms around his torso, hugging him, and after a few moments, I feel his arm come around me almost awkwardly, like he's not used to this.

"Promise me you will come to me if you have any problems, and let me take care of it?" He says his voice dripping with eloquence and a light Italian accent that has my mind reeling.

Instead of replying, I nod against his chest, eagerly, basking in his manly scent of cologne and something musky.

"Good." He says, moving me away from him and standing up, a look of determination on his face- one that looks much more like him. "You go back to school tomorrow, yes?" He questions, and I nod.

He glances at his watch and rubs a hand along his sharp jaw."What time is that exactly?"

"Why?" I ask before my eyes light up at him. "Are you going to drive me tomorrow?"

He shakes his head, but I don't let it deter me. "Can you?" I ask hopefully. He looks like he's going to protest, but I blink up at him, giving him my puppy-dog eyes that no man has ever been able to refuse, and even throw in a little, "Please."

That gets him to sigh and nod reluctantly. "I will move some things around. Come to my door in the morning and wait for me, and then we will go."

"Yes, Sir," I respond playfully, smiling up at the man, who stares down at me before averting his gaze with a nod.

I try to hide my giddy smile at the way in which his demeanor did a complete one-eighty while he turns around, but not before the deep, rich voice of his bids me goodbye. "Goodnight, Principessa."

I slip under my covers and smile as he shuts off the lights and closes my door.

Goodnight indeed.

Bianca

I never thought I would be looking forward to attending school, but being on a personal holiday had really taken a toll on me.

So much so that I was now excited to go to school.

Saint Simon's College Institute was arguably the worst place on earth.

Yes, it was a prestigious institute where affluent figures sent their kids to study before they were sent off to Ivy League schools, but to me, it was yet another daily reminder of just how much of a failure I was.

Not only was I held back a year for my poor grades, but I wasn't much of a social butterfly.

But that was besides the point. Today, I was excited, and it all had to do with the fact that a certain handsome Italian man was taking me.

I spent a long time getting ready, making sure my full morning routine was complete. I prided myself on self-care, and my luxurious bathroom made it so much easier.

I never wasted time and expensive products on doing my makeup for school, of all places, but today was an exception. A little bit of mascara, concealer, and lip gloss went a long way, while I just let my hair fall in its naturally loose waves.

Luckily, I didn't need to spend time on my outfit, seeing as I wore a uniform-one that I had tailored to my liking. Finishing the look with a pair of Mary Janes and white socks beneath, I smiled at my reflection. I looked nothing short of a perfect little angel.

Deception was so much fun.

Grabbing my tote bag, I exit my room and move towards the big black doors at the end of the hall, eager to greet the Italian Adonis.

I knock once, then twice, then wait.

"Alessio," I call and still get no response. Perhaps he was still asleep. I glance down at my watch; we still had 20 minutes before we had to leave so if I woke him now, we wouldn't be late.

And so with that in mind, I open the door and walk into the room.

Damn, my bedroom was nice, but this?

This room was fit for a king. About twice the size of mine, Alessio's room was filled with dark colors ranging from dark browns to blacks to various shades of grey.

His bed, which looked fit for a whole football team, was endless and sat on one end of the massive room, while the other end was adorned with a grand fireplace, a wet bar, and a seating area. Two royal-looking wingback chairs occupied the sitting area along with a couch.

I took my time sweeping the area before making my way over to his perfectly made bed and slumping down on it. I can hear the shower running from behind one of the numerous doors, so I simply flop down onto my stomach and wait.

I preoccupied myself with my phone, kicking my feet up behind me and looking through my notifications. Giggling and smiling at all the thirsty messages from men.

I never entertained them, but I guess I loved the attention and craved the validation.

It was only when the sound of cursing and screaming in Italian sounded that I stopped and looked up, my jaw falling to the floor at the sight before me.

Never had I ever seen a man so perfectly built. Like Adonis himself, with rippling muscles across his back, shoulders, and arms that flexed as Alessio turned and spoke into the phone.

I tried to ignore the foul language, but his voice boomed angry insults in Italian at the man on the other end for his inability to do his job right, and I think I even heard him threaten to chop off a limb.

But I brushed it off, because here before me through the ajar door stood Alessio in what appeared to be a large bathroom at the vanity, shaving his face in nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.

Heat pooled low in my stomach, and I couldn't look away from the perfect man. His hair was wet and clung to his forehead, and from my position, I could make out his reflection in the mirror, and even with his face set in a scowl and jaw clenched, he was damn fine.

The nasty and terrifying threats spilling from his lips were long forgotten, along with the fear of his intimidation, as it was replaced with pure carnal desire.

Never had I been so enraptured by a sight, let alone one of a man. But the sight of Alessio's strong, lean body and the way the muscles in his biceps flexed as he held the phone to his ear had my breath catching.

And then he shifted slightly, allowing me to see the reflection of his front in the mirror. It felt so wrong to peek, but I couldn't look away.

All the way from the ridges of muscle on his strong arms with veins running down them to his torso where a tattoo lay with a set of prominent abs, he was staring right back at me.

I couldn't tell if it was a six or an eight pack, but whatever it was, I didn't worry too much about it because my attention naturally drifted down south to the most prominent part of him.

A faint trail of hair was positioned in the center of the strong ridges of his V-line. I followed the path of the trail until it disappeared under the fabric of the white towel loosely wrapped around his hips.

I couldn't look away. I tried to pry my eyes away and stop the inappropriate thoughts about just how much his natural bulge stuck out beneath the towel, but I couldn't.

This man was packing.

He was so consumed in his conversation that when he turned to showcase the tan skin on his muscular back, I could make out scratches that looked to be claw marks.

Claw marks that looked relatively fresh, and I highly doubted they were from him.

An instant pool of jealousy swam through me, and I wanted to throw my phone across the room and storm out, but I knew that it was ridiculous, for I had only met this man yesterday.

Of course, someone as powerful and attractive as Alessio would have women throwing themselves at him.

But then my jealousy was soon replaced with content as I remembered what Liam had told me.

Alessio was cold, rude, and emotionless. He may have fucked women, but did he smile at them? Call them Princess? Or make sure they felt safe?

No.

I then understood, unlike the women he fucks and dumps, I had a better advantage. A much more powerful one if I played my cards right.

And so with a smile on my face, I turned away from the ajar door to give him his privacy and began plotting on how I was going to get what I wanted.

. . .

Alessio was finished approximately seven minutes later, and I only knew because I stopped hearing curses in Italian that even I didn't know.

And when he did come out, I made sure to hold my chin in my palms, crossing my ankles behind me to stop them from swinging back and forth in mid-air, while plastering a sweet smile on my lips.

I bet I looked irresistible.

He walks out now clad in only a pair of white briefs, too distracted by using the towel in his hand to dry his hair to notice me.

I sneak a peek down at his muscular thighs, my gaze naturally drifting a little higher before my cheeks heat and I snap my eyes away, grateful that he has yet to notice me.

Yep. He was packing.

My focus returns to my phone, and the cool air hitting the skin of my thighs from where my skirt rode up sends goosebumps through me.

I'd quickly learned that I was a sight no man could pass up. Even the teachers at my school weren't expecting that, for I had caught their wandering eyes and lustful looks since I'd first hit my growth spurt in ninth grade.

At first, some of the comments from some teachers about my looks, especially in my school uniform, were uncomfortable. But I quickly found myself craving that attention.

"Morning!" I chirp, looking up to see Alessio's head snap up as his eyes widen. Immediately, the towel in his hand goes to wrap the towel back around his waist.

He stares at me in shock, but then in an instant, it turns into something resembling annoyance and frustration. His jaw ticks like he's trying to control it.

"What are you doing in here?!" He snaps, walking away from me and disappearing behind another door. One, I presume, is his closet.

I sit up, furrowing my brows at how he didn't even look at me like those other men did; instead, he seemed upset with me.

He emerges a second later, only now dressed in slacks and a white button-up, his hands doing up the last few buttons on the shirt. "You cannot just barge into my bedroom when you please. And you certainly can't sit on my bed." His jaw ticks, and I can see just how much he's trying to calm himself down.

He stands up straighter, squaring his shoulders while looking down at me. "Get off." His tone is cold, so different from the kind man from yesterday, and I find myself instantly regretting my actions.

I wanted that sweet man, not this mean one.

I was scared of this version of him. I stand up and straighten out my clothes, instantly rushing to defend myself. "I-I knocked, but you wouldn't come out, and we were going to be late."

His eyes narrow into slits as he gives me a bemused look. "Late?" He snaps before his eyes scan my uniform-clad figure. Realization crosses his features while disappointment fills mine.

He forgot.

"Cazzo," He curses, pinching the bridge of his nose before sighing out. "I was supposed to take you today, wasn't I?"

I nod slowly, shifting uncomfortably.