Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

J enna

Blearily, I opened my eyes to the morning light streaming through the window. I hadn't slept that well in forever.

Honestly, it had felt really freaking good.

I stretched, feeling the delicious soreness in my muscles and my thighs. The events of the previous night came crashing back, and my heart started racing.

Oh, fuck. I'd fucked my best friend's dad.

What was I going to do? How was I ever going to face Bella again? She couldn't find out. It would break her heart. My thoughts spiraled further until I dove under the covers and pulled them over my head.

But I knew I couldn't hide here forever. I'd need to come out of this guest room sooner or later.

With a sigh, I pushed the blankets back down. Slowly, I climbed out of the bed, trying to make as little noise as possible. I didn't know what time it was, but I assumed that Vincenzo was already awake. He had always been a morning person, which I never did really understand. I was a night owl myself.

I always thought more interesting things happened in the dead of night.

I padded across the room, my bare feet silent against the thick, plush carpet. Opening the door just a little bit, I could hear noises coming from the kitchen.

It sounded like pots and pans and plates being put down. My heart thumped in my chest. I wasn't sure if I was ready for this. Could I really face him after what the two of us had done yesterday?

What if he was different today? What if he regretted everything that happened between the two of us?

But what if he didn't ?

I didn't know what was in the cards for us, what the two of us could ever be or not be. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the inevitable and then I looked down at myself. I closed the door so quickly that it made a bang, and I covered my mouth.

Shit.

I was still naked.

Completely and utterly naked.

He hadn't given me any clothes, and my panties and shorts had been torn off of me the day before. I chewed my lip, trying to come up with my next move.

I had three options.

I could walk out there stark naked or wrapped up in a sheet like a Greek goddess or sneak into Bella's room and steal some of her clothes. Or maybe it would be better if I just hid in this bedroom and waited for him to leave the house.

Then I could make a mad dash for the door and get out of here without a single hitch. That would be perfect. I could ignore everything that yesterday had been and pretend it never happened.

But that was foolish. Escaping here wouldn't fix anything. In fact, it would probably just make things worse. So, with a heavy sigh, I opted for the safest option and slipped out of the guest room and into Bella's room. I headed straight into her closet.

The two of us were about the same size, so I rifled through her clothing. For a few minutes, I was dissatisfied with what I found, but I kept looking.

And then I spotted the perfect outfit.

A little white sundress.

It was so innocent and sweet looking.

Truthfully, I just wanted to feel a little less like a complete slut for what I did yesterday, and this dress would do perfectly.

I slipped the dress over my head, and it fell just right, hitting the middle of my thighs. I opened a few drawers in her dresser and found a pair of underwear. Unfortunately, Bella was a little bigger in the bra department, so I had no choice but to go braless. I grabbed a hairbrush and brushed out my long wavy hair. After a quick look in the mirror, I paused and lifted my dress.

My ass was covered in red welts and my pussy throbbed to life. I half expected some bruises, but there were none, just residual redness from my spanking.

The first spanking of my life .

I chewed my lip, trying to ignore the hopeless arousal coursing through me right now and flipped the skirt back down. I definitely wasn't going to touch myself right now, and I definitely wasn't going to think about how my best friend's dad had spanked me because I'd been naughty.

Nope. Not going to happen.

Ignoring my building desire and maybe a bit to distract myself, I decided to borrow some of Bella's makeup as well.

I wasn't normally a girly girl, but there was a first time for everything, right?

Maybe all dressed up like this, he'd remember I was the woman he fucked and not just the little girl that had eaten at his dinner table for years.

Once I was done, I slipped on a pair of flip-flops from her closet.

I stood by the door for a moment, trying to think of what I could do or say and coming up with absolutely nothing. Finally, I just took a deep breath and opened the door.

Now or never…

The house was silent, and for a moment, I wondered if Vincenzo was still home. I stepped out into the hall and made my way toward the kitchen. Just then, I caught a whiff of the comforting scent of pancakes and bacon with a hint of fresh brewed coffee.

As I entered the kitchen, I saw Vincenzo standing at the stove, flipping a stack of golden blueberry pancakes. The sight made my heart flutter. He looked up as I walked in, his eyes softening when he saw me.

At once, everything felt easier.

"Good morning," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I hope you're hungry."

I nodded, trying to ignore the blush creeping up my neck.

"Good morning. It smells amazing. Blueberry pancakes?" I asked, my voice more than a little hopeful.

He nodded, turning back to the stove. "Your favorite, right?"

"Yeah," I replied, my voice a little shaky. "Since I was a little kid."

I watched him with a curious gaze. What was he up to? He knew breakfast was my favorite meal of the day, especially blueberry pancakes. There was just something about them that made them perfect.

Just the thought of eating them soon made my mouth water and I strode over to the fridge to get the butter and syrup, meaning to slather my own set of pancakes with glorious amounts of both.

He finished flipping a few and served them onto a plate next to a few slices of bacon, setting it in front of me at the kitchen island. He passed me a cup of coffee next with a soft smile.

"I thought you could use something comforting this morning," he offered gently.

"Thanks," I said softly, sitting down. I picked up a fork, my fingers trembling slightly. "About last night…"

He looked at me, his expression serious but kind. "Let's just enjoy breakfast for now, okay? We'll talk later," he suggested, and I stared at him for a moment before I nodded, grateful for the reprieve.

As I took my first bite of the pancakes, the familiar taste brought back a flood of childhood memories. It was exactly what I needed. No one else made a plate of pancakes like Vincenzo, not even my own mom, that is, when she actually was around.

Which wasn't much.

My mom was a lawyer, and my father was a doctor, both high end jobs that didn't allow for much family time or really any time for their daughter at all. My father only came home on weekends, or he used to, before he'd taken a position in the city. My mom spent all of her time at the office and hardly noticed if I was home or not. One weekend when I was only ten, I'd stayed over at Bella's house, and she hadn't even realized that I was gone.

I did it so often after that, Bella often joked about putting together my own room.

But that didn't matter now. All that paled in comparison to what happened last night.

I glanced at Vincenzo, but he was digging into his own plate of pancakes. For a while, we ate in comfortable silence, the tension between us easing slightly with every bite.

After a few minutes, Vincenzo finally broke the silence. "It's going to be a beautiful day. Maybe we could spend some time by the pool?"

I smiled, appreciating the small talk. "That sounds nice. I really enjoy relaxing out there."

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Good."

We continued eating, the silence not feeling as oppressive. I ate some more of my pancakes and took a sip of the coffee he'd poured for me. It was all really delicious.

"These are really good. Just like I remember," I complimented him.

"I'm glad you like them," he said, his eyes meeting mine. "You know, I've been making them for you ever since you were a little girl."

I nodded, a nostalgic smile tugging at my lips.

"Yeah, you have," I said softly.

We sat in silence for a few more moments. Finally, I took a deep breath and decided to break the tension.

"Aren't we going to talk about yesterday?" I asked, my gaze searching his for a long moment and he nodded once before he cocked his head.

Vincenzo's expression shifted, a mixture of seriousness and something else I couldn't quite place, something I very much liked.

"We talked about one of the things we needed to talk about last night," he said, his voice carrying a subtle innuendo that made my cheeks flush and my pussy clench. "But we still need to talk about what you found in that room yesterday," he continued, his tone turning more serious.

I nodded, bracing myself for the conversation ahead.

"Okay. Let's talk."

"You were never meant to see that room and anything in it," he ventured with a soft sigh, "But you did, and that changes everything, so now we have to figure out a way to move forward."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know," I said softly.

"I know, sweet girl. I'm not scolding you. I punished you last night for it, so now it's over and done with. Now, we just move on."

He sat down on the stool next to me.

"First off, though, Bella can never know any of this. I've worked really hard to keep my past from her so she can have a normal life. You must promise me this," he said, his gaze level with mine, coolly assessing me with every passing moment.

I paused. Who was this man and why did I want to know more? My curiosity got the best of me, and I nodded fast, telling him what he wanted to hear while also actually meaning it.

"I won't tell her. I promise," I answered quickly.

"You mean that?" he pressed, his gaze telling me that he needed to be certain.

"I do," I answered.

"I believe you," he nodded, his shoulders visibly relaxing a bit.

"Okay, then tell me why you have a room with that many guns, fake IDs, money, and whatever else is in there," I pushed, wanting to know more.

"Well, I guess I'll start from the beginning," he started. After a moment, he continued, "You see, I grew up in a traditional Italian family, one deeply involved in organized crime. My father was a prominent figure within the organization, and from a young age, I was groomed to follow in his footsteps. In time, I became a trusted underboss in the mafia. I served in that position for years."

What the …? Who the fuck was Vincenzo Santoro?

I met his gaze for a moment, searching for the man I thought I once knew and looking into the eyes of a stranger, though he was still somehow familiar.

"Being in the mafia was all I knew," he continued, his voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and regret. "Sure, there was money, and all sorts of power, but also danger and inevitable betrayal. I thought I was invincible, that nothing could touch me or my family, but I was so very wrong. So fucking wrong."

"The mafia, like in the movies? The Godfather and all that?" I interrupted, unable to keep my questions quiet.

"Yes, just like that," he whispered.

"Tell me more," I pressed, swallowing my fear and pushing it deep down. I tried to stay calm, not just for me, but for him.

He paused, his eyes darkening. "It was a dangerous life. There were so many close calls, Jenna. Once, I was involved in a standoff with a rival family. Their names aren't important, but we were surrounded, outnumbered, and it seemed like there was no way out. But I had to think quickly, and negotiate a truce while under fire, just to save my men and myself. I only just escaped with our lives."

"That sounds terrifying." I said, my breath catching in my throat.

"It was," he admitted, his voice grim. "Another time, I had to go undercover to expose a traitor within our ranks. I pretended to be one of them while gathering as much intel as I could. If I had been discovered, they would have killed me. With the evidence I gathered, my boss Carlo Ricci killed the traitor on the spot."

"Wow," I said. "I'm guessing there's more though that you're not telling me, something that went really badly."

I was talking out my ass, but there was a tortured look in his eyes that told me that I was right, so I waited, and he began to speak once more.

"Everything changed in the blink of an eye. My wife, Maria, was killed in a mafia hit gone wrong. She was innocent, caught in the crossfire of a world she never wanted to be a part of. Losing her… it was terrible," he continued, his voice shaking with emotion.

"I'm so sorry, Vincenzo. What happened?" I asked, reaching out to touch his hand. I was surprised when he took it and squeezed it tight.

"We were supposed to meet at a safehouse, but someone leaked our location. A rival family attacked, and Maria… well, she was there at the wrong time. They shot her, right in the heart. There was no saving her, even if I had managed to get her to a hospital. I held her in my arms as she bled out. She whispered my name, and then she was gone."

"It's not your fault," I whispered through the lump in my throat, my heart aching for him. He swallowed hard but continued on, squeezing my hand even tighter.

"After Maria's death, I realized I couldn't continue living that life. I had to protect Isabella, to give her a chance at a normal, safe life. So, I left the mafia and moved clean across the country. I crafted a new identity for the two of us, started a legitimate business as a restaurateur, and left everything behind. I poured everything I had into creating a stable environment for my daughter, from good schools, to fabricating a story about her mother's death for her and the rest of the world."

"I had no idea about any of this," I said softly.

"I thought I was out of the woods, that nothing could touch me or my family anymore, but now I know that's not that case. I know that they're back, that they've found me," he murmured.

I felt a chill run down my spine as his words sank in. "You mean, you think someone's after you?"

He nodded, his expression grim.

"I have many enemies, Jenna. People who would love nothing more than to see me and my family suffer. I left that life behind to protect Bella, but I always knew there was a chance it could come back to haunt me and now it's here."

My heart pounded as the implications of his words settled over me.

"Do you have any idea who it is?" I asked.

"I don't know," he admitted, his voice heavy with worry. "But I can't take any chances. And now, because you're involved, you need to stay here with me."

His tone was dominant, leaving no room for argument. It made my cheeks flush, a mix of fear and something else I couldn't quite identify.

My pussy clenched tight.

"Yes, sir," I replied, my voice surprisingly steady, albeit a bit sassy.

He seemed to relax slightly at my agreement, but his eyes were still filled with concern.

"This isn't just about keeping you safe, Jenna. It's about keeping all of us safe. Until I know who's behind this and what they want, you're not leaving this house."

"I understand," I said softly.

I could probably send my parents a text letting them know I was staying at Bella's place for a few days, just so they wouldn't worry, not that they would probably even notice in the first place since they were never really home anyway.

Plus, I kind of blew off Sophie the night before, so I was going to have to fix that with a lame apology text or something so that didn't raise any questions.

Despite my fears, something deep inside me felt safe with him. The man I had grown up knowing had always been protective of me and of his daughter.

Even when I was little.

I remembered a summer day when Bella and I were about ten years old. We were playing at the park near our neighborhood, carefree and oblivious to the dangers of the world. We had spent hours on the swings, laughing and seeing who could go higher, when a group of older teenage boys approached us.

At first, they seemed friendly, but their behavior quickly turned to something much more menacing. They started teasing us, making crude sexual comments that made us uncomfortable. Bella and I tried to ignore them, but they grew bolder, crowding around us and blocking our path when we tried to leave.

It was terrifying.

We had been trapped, and there was no one around to help. Just when I'd thought things couldn't get worse, I'd heard a familiar, authoritative voice.

"Get away from them. Now."

Vincenzo had appeared out of nowhere, his expression fierce, his anger written all over his face. He strode up to us and immediately put himself between us and the boys.

The boys hesitated, sizing him up, but one look at his face and they scattered like frightened rabbits. He had that effect on people—an undeniable presence that commanded respect and fear. Now I knew where it was from.

He had rushed over to us, his eyes full of concern as he knelt down and checked us over. He'd run his hands over us, making sure we weren't hurt.

"Are you girls alright?" he'd asked, his voice gentle yet firm.

We'd nodded, more than a little scared out of our wits.

"It's okay. You're safe now."

That day, he took us back to his house, where he made us hot chocolate and let us talk about what had happened. He listened patiently, reassuring us that we were safe and that he would always be there to protect us. From that moment on, I knew that Vincenzo was someone I could always count on.

As I looked at him now, the same man who had protected me all those years ago, I felt that same sense of safety and trust. He had always been there for me, and I knew he always would be, even if he wasn't exactly who I thought he was all these years.

He was still my Vincenzo.

"Do you remember that day at the park?" I asked softly, my eyes searching his.

Vincenzo's expression softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. "How could I forget? I was so angry when I saw those boys bothering you two that I could hardly see straight."

"I'll never forget how you stood up for us," I said, my voice filled with gratitude from the memory.

"I promised myself I'd protect you and Bella, no matter what. I still mean that."

We sat in silence for a moment, the quiet between us easy and relaxed. Vincenzo broke the quiet first, his voice soft and filled with a mix of pain and longing.

"You know, Jenna, losing Maria was the hardest thing I've ever gone through. She was my rock. When she died, a part of me died with her."

He looked down, his shoulders slumping a little as he did so. I squeezed his hand in mine, letting him know that I was there for him.

"But the fear of losing someone else I care about… it never goes away. That's why I've been so cautious, why I've kept so many secrets over the years. I've lost so much already. And now, with you… I can't bear the thought of something happening to you. I don't know what the future holds, but I promise you, I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe," he vowed.

"That means a lot, Vincenzo," I whispered.

We were quiet for a few long moments, and I cleared my throat, wanting to know more.

"Tell me about Maria," I said softly. "I want to know more about her. What was she like?"

Vincenzo's eyes softened at the mention of her name. "Maria was… incredible. She was strong and kind, always looking out for everyone. She had this way of making everything seem brighter, even in the darkest times. She made even better pancakes than me."

"I don't know, your pancakes are pretty good," I said, my tone light before I turned more serious. "She sounds like a beautiful person. Tell me more about her."

He leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face, but his eyes held a spark of happiness amongst the sorrow, and I knew I was pushing in the right direction.

"There was this one time, before Isabella was born. We had taken a trip to Sicily, just the two of us. We spent the day exploring, and in the evening, we found this little beach. It was secluded and peaceful. We watched the sunset together, and for that moment, everything felt perfect."

"That sounds incredible," I said, my heart warming at the image.

He nodded, a wistful smile on his lips. "She had a way of making me see the world differently. She made me want to be a better man."

I squeezed his hand again. "You are a good man, Vincenzo. You've done everything you can to protect your family. And you'll continue to do so."

"I appreciate that more than you know," he replied, his voice thoughtful.

I chewed my lip, searching his face. He was being really open with me and that made my heart swell at least three times its natural size.

Vincenzo was practically a father to me. It was crazy to think about one of the closest people in my life had been involved with something as serious as the mafia. That was something I'd thought was only in books, television, or the movies, not real life.

Curious, I couldn't stop myself from asking more about it.

"So, tell me, is the mafia life really like the movies?"

"Well, on some level, it is. There was one time when I was about twenty-five, and there was a major deal that had gone south. The rival family was ready to declare war. My father sent me in to negotiate, thinking it would be a good test of my abilities," he answered.

I leaned in, intrigued.

"And? What happened?" I pressed.

"I walked in there, young and inexperienced compared to the others, but I knew I had to keep my cool. I managed to broker a truce by offering a solution that benefited both sides. It wasn't easy, but when I walked out of that meeting, my father was waiting. He clapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Well done, son.' It was the only time I ever saw him smile like that."

His smile was wide now, and I grinned, imagining a younger Vincenzo standing tall and proud.

"That must have felt unbelievable."

"It did," he admitted.

I couldn't resist adding a bit of sass. "So, did you have a secret handshake or anything? Maybe a cool code name?"

He laughed, a deep, genuine sound that warmed my heart. "No secret handshakes or code names, I'm afraid. Just a lot of showing respect and loyalty. Though I did once get called ‘The Negotiator' after that meeting."

I raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on my lips. "The Negotiator, huh? Sounds pretty badass."

He shook his head, still smiling. "It was a different life, Jenna. One that's far behind me now."

"Good," I said, leaning in closer. "Because I kind of like the Vincenzo who makes me blueberry pancakes for breakfast."

His eyes softened, and he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "I like that Vincenzo too."

I glanced down at the table and wrapped my hands around the mug of coffee. Luckily, it was still a little warm and I took a sip.

It was so delicious.

Vincenzo was a master in the kitchen.

He had a way of making food that was both comforting and extraordinary, a talent that was showcased brilliantly in his restaurant, Il Sole di Napoli . I knew he owned a slew of others, but that one was my favorite.

His restaurant was a gem in our town, a cozy Italian eatery with an ambiance that made me feel like I'd stepped into a rustic village in southern Italy.

From the moment you walked in, everything screamed Italy. From the walls covered with vintage photographs of Naples, to the scent of fresh herbs, garlic, and tomatoes that always filled the cozy space, not to mention the delicious dishes made with love in the back kitchen, it was perfect. Bella and I had spent countless evenings there together.

I'd practically grown up there.

One of my favorite dishes was his homemade gnocchi. The soft, pillow-y dumplings melted in my mouth every time I ate them. They were coated in this luscious, tangy tomato sauce that was always simmered to perfection. Vincenzo always insisted on using the freshest ingredients, many of which he sourced from local farmers. It made all the difference, and gave his dishes a rich, authentic flavor that was hard to find anywhere else.

Suddenly, I craved it more than anything.

"Do you think, if I begged and pleaded, you'd make me some of your famous gnocchi later?" I asked, giving him a playful smile.

Vincenzo raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes.

"I'd like to see you beg and plead for me, but it wouldn't be gnocchi that you were begging for, baby girl," he said darkly.

I laughed, shaking my head all while liquid heat coiled in my core at his suggestion. For a second, I was speechless, but I quickly recovered.

"I'm serious. I've been craving it for weeks," I whispered.

Okay, maybe not weeks, but it certainly felt like it right now.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze locking onto mine.

"It's pretty hard to say no to you, Jenna, especially when you beg so very prettily," he grinned.

A blush crept up my cheeks at the intensity of his gaze.

"Good to know I have some influence over the great Mafioso Vincenzo Santoro."

His lips curled into a smirk. "More than you realize."

I felt a flutter in my stomach at his words, the air between us charged with unspoken desire.

"Is that so?" I quipped.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. "Absolutely. And who knows, maybe I'll make an entire feast tonight. Just for you."

I raised an eyebrow, feeling bold. "Just for me? What's the special occasion?"

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, a playful smile on his lips. "Do I need an occasion to spoil you a little?"

I bit my lip, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "I suppose not. But I won't say no to being spoiled."

"So, in honor of spoiling you, how about you help me in the kitchen tonight? We can make those gnocchi together. It could be fun."

I grinned, feeling a burst of excitement. "I'd love that. Just promise not to laugh at my terrible cooking skills."

He chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "I promise. Besides, with me guiding you, there's no way you can mess it up."

"Is that a challenge?" I teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Sassy girl," he replied, his tone subtly suggestive.

A shiver ran down my spine at his words, and I took a deep breath. I knew it was crazy, but there was something about him that drew me in, that kept drawing me in. Maybe it was the fact that he was so experienced, that he knew exactly what he wanted, but I had a feeling it was more than that.

I couldn't help but think about his hands on my body, like they were last night, from the rough manhandling as he forced me over his knee and then the desk as he fucked me, to the gentle way he washed and cared for me in the bath and then the tender way he'd tucked me into bed.

"I can see the wheels turning in that pretty little head," he ventured.

I tried to think of a response to him, but I was unsure what to say. I could push him to see if last night was a one-time thing, or I could leave it and see where this went all on its own.

I couldn't decide.

Feeling restless, I opened my mouth, but he spoke first.

"Let me guess what you're thinking right now, baby girl. You're thinking of saying something sassy and you're wondering, if you do, if I'm going to redden that cute little bottom again," he said softly.

I blushed so hard that I must have turned crimson.

"Aren't you, little girl?" he pressed, his voice full of command and bravado and something else that did strange things to my insides that I didn't want to admit to.

"I… I guess so," I confessed.

I could feel his gaze burning into me, and I couldn't help but shift in my seat. I could almost imagine his handprint on my ass, bright red and burning from a spanking and my pussy throbbed so hard I would have pitched forward if I wasn't sitting down.

He reached for me, and his hand grazed my cheek. Then he shifted his fingers until they were underneath my chin and lifted it so that I was staring right into his soulful green eyes. When I looked closer, I could see flecks of silver within them.

"Let me tell you what's going to happen next, baby girl. You're going to say something sassy and yes, I'm going to redden that gorgeous little ass again, just like you want me to," he said boldly, and I scoffed.

"Asshole," I muttered.

He smirked, the corners of his lips lifting in amusement. Before I knew it, his hand had wrapped around the back of my neck, and he yanked me toward him. My hands instinctively went up and my palms smacked against his broad chest.

With a firm grip on the back of my neck, he tilted his head, bringing his mouth down on mine, kissing me like he was a man dying of thirst and I was the first sip of water he'd had in days.

When he broke the kiss, I stared up at him, a mix of defiance and desire swirling through me with wild abandon.

His lips twitched with amusement as he watched the warring emotions on my face. He let go of my neck and then moved his hands to the small of my back. I gasped as he pulled me even closer to him. I could feel the hard planes of his muscular chest through the thin fabric of my dress and the way each cord tensed underneath me.

I fucking loved it.

The heat of his body radiated through me, and my heart skipped a beat. He dipped his head and kissed the side of my neck, his breath hot against my skin.

"You wouldn't dare," I whispered, wanting to test him, to push him to see if there was more to him than just last night. He nipped at my neck, his teeth grazing my skin, sending a thrill of desire straight down my spine.

"I very much would, sassy girl," he chuckled softly.