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.

Bianca

"You're right. You just took me by surprise." He says, but then his eyes snap to mine, hardening, still very unimpressed and frustrated. "But it's not okay to barge into my room like that. It's extremely inappropriate. Do you not know how to practise boundaries?"

I swallow thickly at his stern tone, not used to being scolded, but manage a small nod followed by an apology before turning around and scurrying down for a quick breakfast.

. . .

The drive to school is quiet. Filled with Alessio's impatient tapping, telling me that he wanted to be anywhere else, and it only further humiliated me.

Alessio didn't make a move to talk or converse with me, only speaking when it was necessary. The worst part was that he didn't even seem to care about how upset I was getting with him. Nor did he even seem to pay any mind to me.

I couldn't even tell if he was upset with me; he was acting like he didn't even care at all.

I grew frustrated. I was only growing comfortable around him - something that I barely did with anyone else, and yet here he was, not even appreciating it.

Why was he acting like this? We were supposed to be close, mamá told me I was special, especially to him.

We stop outside the school gate, and Alessio goes to speak, but having had enough of his closed-off attitude, I beat him to it. "Just have someone pick me up at 2:30," I say, hastily getting out of the car.

"Will do." He nods, his voice lacking any softness and emotion.

I give him one last glance to see him not even looking at me. Rolling my eyes discreetly, I slam the car door and turn to walk into the school, all my enthusiasm gone.

I fucking hated this place.

. . .

I spent my lunch hour walking the halls towards the literature department.

It was rare to have any of the professors on campus be so young, seeing as our academy prided itself on having the most educated faculty.

However, our literature professor, William Westfield, was a recent masters student from Yale who was doing an internship with the board of directors when our old literature professor had a heart attack mid year and William was forced to take over.

He was attractive, yes, in the nerdy, cute type of way. But most of my desire to get close to him had to do with the fact that everyone wanted him, while he seemed to only want me. Now, however, he was a companion of sorts.

I had yet to go anywhere other than kissing. Save for that one time I had ventured down south and tried to give him a hand job at our annual assembly under the table. We were sitting side by side in the dark, and it was only because I was bored and for educational purposes.

That was a flop.

I still had yet to even see a penis, but I wasn't looking forward to doing anything more than kissing William. And he never seemed to mind; he was very patient and understanding.

All I wanted from him were the passing grades he would help me achieve and the occasional moments where I wanted someone to hold me, and he was there.

I walk into his office, making sure to close the door behind me, before I turn to see him sitting behind his desk eating his lunch.

His blonde hair was combed back, and his dress shirt was a little lose on his form. Nothing like how Alessio filled it out.

Upon my entrance, he looked up, his sharp blue eyes behind the thick rimmed glasses widening at me but I didn't pay any mind. I was far too upset, needing someone to hold me and tell me how amazing I was.

I knew it wouldn't be the same as hearing it from my new favourite Italian man, but it would do for now.

I click the lock shut, which only means one thing and William leans back in his chair giving me room to take a seat on his lap.

I do, but instead of straddling him, I sit facing his desk, my back pressed to his front, and I hear no complaint form him.

"Bianca, I heard about your mother. I'm so sorry, sweetheart." He says, and I can hear the frown in his voice as I close my eyes enjoying the feeling of him wrapping his arms around me from behind.

I wiggle, trying to get comfortable. The erection is now digging into my ass getting annoying and he spreads his legs adjusting himself so it's not in the way.

Did I also mention William got hard at the mere sight of me? Yeah, it was annoying.

"I missed you here dearly." He mumbles, leaving kisses along my skin as he moves my hair over my shoulder to one side and latches his lips to my neck.

I wanted the affection, and sometimes he got carried away with too much touching, but right now, I didn't mind, for I liked the warmth he provided by being in his arms.

William liked me a little too much. Or who he thought I was. The sweet, innocent, naive good girl. One that only he could taint. And I let him believe whatever sick fantasy he had.

"Well, I would be lying if I said I missed you," I say, reaching forward to grab his bowl of pasta and place it on my lap.

He pauses before throwing his head back, a rich laugh escaping his lips. "You're delightful, you know that?" He says genuinely, and I smile secretly before going to take a bite of the poor excuse for pasta.

"This should be a crime," I mumble, my frown intensifying at the linguine covered in what seems to be store bought red sauce.

William agrees, distractedly wrapping his arms tighter around my waist, hugging me to him from behind. He sighs in content as one of his hands trails to my bare thigh. "Why did I know you were gonna say something about that? You Italian minx." He comments, trailing his nose against my hair, inhaling my scent.

I don't laugh, I simply stay put, continuing to eat the poor excuse for pasta as I feel William pause.

"What's wrong? You seem down."

I roll my eyes. No shit, Sherlock, took you long enough.

I debate on telling him about the real reason I was here. Because I was upset with my disappointing morning with Alessio. But instead, I just shrug,

"Just lonely."

"Just lonely..." He repeats, as his fingers lightly dance on my thigh, dangerously close to the hem of my skirt. "Can I help?" He mumbles as his hand slides under my skirt onto my bare upper thigh.

My eyes narrow. He had yet to touch me there, nor was he ever going to and so I do what I usually do - play dumb and ignore his attempts.

I sigh, leaning back into him. "Just hold me and tell me how amazing I am." My tone is bored, and yet I find myself closing my eyes in bliss as he does just that.

He kisses the sides of my face and moves down to my neck mumbling compliments. Meanwhile, his fingers start moving up dangerously close to the hem of my panties and dangerously close to my sex.

My dry sex.

A place that I have yet to let him or any man touch. William is sweet and cute, but he will not be the man to get the privilege of touching me there.

I take my hand and set it on top of his, stopping him.

He sighs, "Please?" He pleads in a small voice, the desperation clear as day. "I can make you feel good." He says, and I sigh knowing touching me there will only be making him feel good.

I had tried thinking of him whilst giving myself pleasure, and the thought of him was not enough to bring me to a climax.

In fact, I still had yet to give myself an actual orgasm. All I got while playing with myself was close. I was definitely doing something wrong.

So with a huff, I move his hand to my chest, letting him touch my left breast over my clothes, to keep him occupied.

He wastes no time in starting to knead and squeeze the breast. Meanwhile, I focus on the comfort I was receiving from his warmth and the things he was whispering in my ear about me.

I knew they were all true; I just liked hearing them from someone else.

I stayed like that wrapped in his arms and occasionally taking bites of his pasta as he eventually ventured to my other breast, his soft sweet compliments turning dirty. But I was no longer interested in hearing how aroused the thought of me made him feel.

And so, when I felt his erection once again venture to my ass, I decided it's time to get off him.

I stand, dusting myself off, before turning to hear him sigh in defeat. "My hand gets sore, you know? It's a miracle I'm still a functioning male with all the times you leave me like this." He mumbles grumpily.

I giggle and lean down so that I'm level with the bulge in his pants, my mind can't help comparing it to the one I saw this morning, only Alessio wasn't even aroused, much less even aware of just how large he was. "Does this little guy think about me too much?" I pout, tapping his crotch where I see him noticeably flinch.

William stares at me from his spot on the chair, unamused and sexually frustrated, as I smile and laugh at my joke.

But then the thought of Alessio creeps back into my mind, and I distract myself by deciding to give the poor guy some incentive.

I get on his lap, straddling him, before placing a chaste kiss against his lips. His hands fly to my waist, and I shut my eyes. His tongue sneaks into mine shyly, and I let him, for he had just spent the past hour whispering sweet things in my ear.

But my mind drifts to Alessio, and I can't help but imagine how he would kiss me. He would most likely dominate my mouth and take control.

The next thing I know, I'm kissing him harder.

I even get so carried away and start to lightly grind myself into him, thinking of how Alessio's strong arms would wrap around me, guiding me against his strong body.

I only realize what I'm doing once I'm met with the feeling of an erection digging into my thigh, one that I know is not Alessio's, for his would be much more... prevalent.

I go to get up, as William groans and attempts to guide me back into his erection, but I'm not having it.

He whines in protest but I just blow him an air kiss before turning around and strolling out of his office. Making sure to close the door, knowing that he's gonna need his privacy with his hand for the next little bit.

. . .

My frustration returns later when I walk out of the school to see a driver waiting for me, someone who's not Alessio.

A small part of me was hoping for him to pick me up and apologize for being mean this morning, but my mood only plummets when I arrive home to see that both Liam and Alessio weren't even home.

I was sitting in my room hanging upside down from my bed with my phone to my ear as I told Jacob about what had happened. He had sensed something was wrong earlier in school, but I wasn't ready to tell him.

"Of course he's gonna be freaked out Bianca. He's taking care of you, and this may be hard for you to hear, but not every man that lays eyes on you wants to fuck you. He doesn't look at you like that." He reasons.

"But I want him to look at me like that. I don't want him to see me as a little girl." I huff, "He didn't even look at my body when I was lying on his bed." I say.

It may have sounded ridiculously narcissistic, but not even Jacob would pass up a chance to ogle my body like that, and he wasn't even necessarily attracted to me.

"Damn, really? Not even a peek?" He says, somewhat curiously.

"Not even a peek."

"Maybe you're coming off too strong and desperate. Maybe you need to make him believe that you're not trying anything. Make him believe it's all him." Jacob offers weakly, and I sit up immediately.

He was right. I was being too obvious and direct. If I wanted to pull this off, I needed him not to think anything of it; I needed to innocently seduce him.

And I knew just how to use my naturally affectionate personality to do so.