Half a Lifetime Later—My Mafia Princess is Finally Mine

- Crack the seal and the value drops

Alessia

─ ∘❉∘ ─

They were playing games.

They were not the kind we played back in Chicago, not spin-the-bottle or some watered-down version of Truth or Dare.

These were Italian games, I guess. I didn’t know the rules. I didn’t even know the names.

There was “Palla Avvelenata”, some drunk version of dodgeball using a rolled-up towel soaked in seawater, half the boys were shirtless by the time it ended.

Then there was the weirdest one, “Il Giudice” The Judge. One person stood blindfolded in the center, playing the “judge,” while the others circled around and whispered confessions or secrets. The judge had to guess who said what. If they were right? The confessor had to jump in the water... naked. If they were wrong? The judge went in.

I didn’t understand most of it.

The rules changed depending on who was winning.

Everyone was barefoot, tanned, already drunk or pretending to be.

They shrieked, ran, dove, climbed on one another, I stood at the edge of it all, arms crossed, watching with a sick knot in my stomach.

Fabio jogged over to me, damp hair plastered to his forehead. He was shirtless, tan, and still wearing his gold chain, “Hey, sposa Americana,” he said with a lopsided grin, “We’ve got a free spot. Judge round. Come on.”

I blinked, “What?”

He gestured toward his friends where the others were gathering around the speaker, “Il Giudice. Come on. We need a fresh voice.”

I shook my head, “I’m not playing.”

He blinked, thrown off for half a second, “Why not?”

“I didn’t grow up here,” I said flatly. “I don’t know these games.”

Rino was watching from the other side, glass in hand, amusement written all over his face. His eyes burned holes into me even from a distance.

Fabio stepped closer, “You don’t have to do anything crazy. Just join in. You’ll loosen up.”

I wasn’t going to humiliate myself for their amusement.

“Thanks,” I said coolly, “But I’ll pass.”

Valeria’s voice rang out, “Then maybe we should play something the American can actually understand. We wouldn’t want her to feel left out.”

I turned toward her and she was grinning wide, perfectly pleased with herself.

“Perhaps…” she continued, drawing out the words, “Truth or Dare?”

“I’m fine,” I said, “You don’t have to change anything for me.”

But Rino stepped forward, then he crooked a single finger in my direction, like he was calling a dog, he could summon at will.

“Come on, Alessia,” he said, “Don’t be rude. You’re the guest of honor.”

My stomach turned.

“She’ll play,” he added, not even looking at me, just announcing it to the group like it was law and my voice didn’t matter

Valeria tilted her head and waved me closer, “It’s settled, then. Truth or Dare.”

The other girls were already giggling, whispering behind their hands. Rino didn’t look away from me, and I could already feel the leash of his order around my neck tightening.

Boys hooted, one of them shouted, “Capone’s daughter better not be a coward!”

Heat prickled up the back of my neck. I felt their eyes on me. Someone gave me a nudge from behind. My heart slammed against my ribs, but I moved anyway. Chin high, back straight. I walked toward the circle and lowered myself onto the edge, as if I still had some control over the situation.

They spun an empty beer bottle, and it landed on one of the guys, Matteo, I think.

Someone shouted, “Lick Gerardo’s foot!”

Groans and laughter erupted as Matteo dragged himself across the circle, muttering curses, before grabbing Gerardo’s sweaty ankle and giving it the most disgusted lick imaginable.

Everyone howled.

The bottle spun again, landing on a few of Rino’s friends who took their turns with loud dares. Laughter echoed around the circle, then it spun once more, slower this time, wobbling on its final rotation and stopped.

Pointing straight at me.

“Truth or dare, American?” Fabio asked.

I swallowed. “Truth.”

His grin widened, “Alright then… tell us, Miss America, are you still a virgin?”

My lips parted in surprise but Rino didn’t even let me answer.

“Of course she is,” he drawled, “If she wasn’t, we’d be renegotiating the deal.”

The heat that rose in my face wasn’t embarrassment, it was fury.

He kept going, “Capones don’t serve spoiled meat,” he added with a smirk, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Crack the seal and the value drops. Everyone knows that.”

People laughed loud and hard, like it was the funniest thing they’d heard all week. And I just sat there, skin burning so hot it felt like it might peel off my face.

Rage curdled in my gut but I smiled sweetly. “Of course I am a virgin, Fabio. We don’t all sleep with our cousins behind vineyard sheds like Lombardis,” I tilted my head, eyes locked on Rino’s. “Aren’t your parents distant cousins, Rino? Or is that just an old family rumor that somehow never dies?”

No one laughed, at least, not fully, not the way they had a second ago. Laughing at Rino Lombardi’s expense felt unlawful here, like some unspoken crime against the crown.

But his smile did freeze, just for a second. A flicker of something sharp and annoyed behind his eyes.

And it was the best second of the whole evening.

The bottle spun again.

This time, it landed on a girl with dripping black curls and cherry-red lipstick. Serena, I thought her name was.

“Truth,” she beamed.

Gerardo leaned forward, “Have you ever had a threesome?”

She laughed, “Not yet.”

Another boy held up his drink and said, “She’s taking applications!”

Rino chuckled, lazily reclined beside Valeria, still nursing his drink. The bottle spun again. This time it pointed to a boy I hadn't met.

“Dare.”

Rino grinned, “Kiss the person to your left.”

That guy reached over and kissed Fabio... with tongue. The others screamed with laughter. A few clapped. Valeria threw her head back and shrieked, “Disgusting!”

Rino raised his cup, “That’s the spirit.”

The bottle spun again, it landed on Valeria.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled like the spotlight had been waiting for her. “Truth.”

A girl next to her leaned in, grinning. “Did you sleep with Rino last summer in Monaco?”

Everything stopped and heads turned toward me like I was there with them.

Valeria gave a little shrug, all shy, “No,” she said sweetly. “I’m still a virgin but you never know,” she said airily, fingers twirling her straw, “Summer’s not over yet.”

The girls around her giggled like she’d just dropped a mic. My jaw clenched so hard it hurt. Fabio's laugh vanished like someone had slapped it off.

He turned his head toward his sister. “The fuck did you just say?”

Valeria blinked. “Relax, Fab. It was a joke.”

“Nah,” he said, “It wasn’t. You wanna flirt, do it with someone who didn’t teach you how to ride a damn tricycle, capito?”

Her cheeks flushed, but her mouth pulled into a stubborn pout.

Fabio turned to the rest of the group. “Anyone else wanna joke about who my sister's fucking before I start cracking skulls?”

The game moved on.

One girl was dared to skinny dip.

Another boy confessed to stealing his cousin’s car and crashing it into a vineyard wall.

There were tales of coke in Vatican bathrooms. Secret hookups. A girl who admitted to breaking her sister’s nose in a fight over a boyfriend.

And I sat through all of it, they laughed, bragged, kissed and drank and dared and boasted.

I went to an all-girls private school in Chicago.

We weren’t saints but we didn’t snort powder off holy sinks or throw punches over boys. We learned posture, elocution, Latin prayers, and how to smile without showing too much teeth.

When the bottle spun, it landed on me again.

Gerardo grinned. “Only dare left, sweetheart. I dare you to strip down and run into the water, just in your underwear. Come on, Capone.”

Someone whistled, “Show us some real American culture!”

I tilted my chin higher, “No.”

“Scared?” Fabio grinned. “Thought you Outfit girls didn’t back down.”

“She’s modest,” Valeria said with exaggerated sweetness. “That’s kind of adorable.”

“I said, no!”

“That’s enough," Rino said, and no one dared to oppose him, “She’s mine to piss off,” he said coolly, “Not yours.”

Fabio raised his hands, half-smiling. “Just a joke—”

“She’s still a Capone,” Rino snapped, suddenly colder. “Remember who the fuck her family is.”

No one laughed after that but I didn’t feel protected. I felt owned. He didn’t say it to defend me. He said it to remind them I was his. Off-limits.

Fabio spun the bottle again, obnoxiously slow.

It passed Valeria, skimmed Serena, and then stopped on Rino.

Gerardo leaned forward, “Dare?”

Rino’s face turned smug, “Obviously.”

“I dare you,” Gerardo said, dragging the words out, “to kiss your American bride.”

Valeria's smile shriveled.

Rino glanced at me and I saw the decision made behind his eyes. I felt the shift. His whole body language changed. His mouth curved with lazy confidence.

“C’mere, Miss America,” he said, “Let’s give them a show.”

I didn’t move from my place, so, Rino took it up on himself and rose from his place and walked over to me. He dropped to his haunches right in front of me, close enough to steal my breath.

I felt panic crawl up the back of my spine like heat, but I kept my face blank.

He reached out and caught my chin between his fingers, tilting my face toward him with the kind of gentleness that made it worse, that made it feel intimate. He leaned in, too sure of himself.

And that's when I pulled back, it made him freeze, “I wouldn’t kiss you,” I said, “if you were the last guy on earth.”

The smile slipped from his mouth, his eyes, those stupidly dark eyes, narrowed at the corners, locked on mine like he was recalculating. His breath touched my lips. My skin prickled.

Then I exhaled slowly, peeled his hand off my face finger by finger, and leaned back like his touch had burned right through my skin. I needed distance just to breathe again.

“You think I’m impressed by this? By any of this?” I looked around slowly, at Valeria, with her silicone smile, at Fabio, who looked like he hadn’t read a book in his life, at Gerardo, who was already halfway down the bottle and halfway to being a full-time drunk, “Your little club of inbred clowns and tailored trash?”

Someone gasped.

“You think I want to be kissed by you?” I said, “You reek of cheap liquor, blood money, and desperation. I’ve seen better men shot in the back alleys of Chicago. At least they had ambition.”

A flicker of movement, a muscle in Rino's temple twitched.

Then I stood, brushed the sand off my trousers, and took one slow breath. He was still crouched there like he belonged at my feet.

“We may have been engaged but you’ll never be enough for me, Rino Lombardi,” I said calmly, “The only reason I’m putting up with you and this pathetic little circus you call friends is because I don’t have a choice.”

He rose slowly until he was towering over me, his smile was gone, his eyes were murderous. That was no spoiled rich boy standing in front of me now.

I finally saw the Made Man in him.

And I remembered exactly what kind of monster I was talking to.

I looked around at the stunned faces circling us. His friends were frozen, wide-eyed and silent, the laughter dead on their lips. Clearly, none of them had ever seen anyone talk to Rino Lombardi like that. He owned Liguria and everyone in it.

But I wasn’t from Liguria and he didn’t own me.

So I took a step back and turned, ready to walk straight to the car and pretend none of them ever existed.

But I didn’t even make it two steps.

His hand fisted in my hair so fast I didn’t even flinch, just felt the sharp tug at my scalp as he yanked my head back. A crack of pain shot down my neck as I stumbled, trying to catch my balance. I barely had a second to register the burn of his grip and the way his knuckles pressed hard against my skull, fingers rooted deep into the base of my scalp before he was already pulling me forward.

And then his mouth slammed into mine. Lips crushed mine with bruising force, upper lip pressing into my philtrum, bottom lip caught under his teeth. My jaw tensed and his forced it open.

I felt the heat of his breath flood into my mouth, liquor, salt, something darker. My reflex was to pull away, but I couldn’t. His grip in my hair held me immobile, neck arched back at just the right angle so he could take without permission.

His tongue shoved past my teeth, pushing against the roof of my mouth, filling every inch of space.

My hands pressed weakly against the flat of his chest but he didn’t even notice. His body was like stone. His mouth tilted over mine again, and his teeth caught my bottom lip and bit hard.

His hand never left my hair. His other hand stayed at his side, he didn’t need two to overpower me. One hand, one mouth, and he already had me locked in place, body stiff, mind white-hot with disbelief.

When he finally pulled back, I was dazed but Rino didn’t stop there. He let go of my hair with a shove.

The sudden force jolted through me. My balance cracked, and my feet slipped backward in the sand. I went down fast, my knees buckling and my body twisting as I hit the ground on my hip. The breath flew out of my chest.

Then laughter. First one voice, then another, then full-on howling. A wave of it like someone had just played the best joke of the night.

“Damn!” Fabio shouted, already wheezing, “Guess that’s one way to finish a dare!”

I stayed where I was, frozen, fingers curled into the sand, trying to remember how to breathe.

My cheeks were burning from the humiliation. My mouth was still wet from his. My lip stung from where his teeth had caught it.

Rino just stood over me, calmly like nothing had happened, like I wasn’t even worth looking at and then he smiled darkly because he won.