Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“Dungeon?”
He nods as if this is normal. “You probably know that you could be punished with pain. But I might not allow you to come and take a good long while before I give in to you. You’ve seen that, too.” Yikes. I swallow. “There are other methods of control, but most anything I’ll use to make sure you obey would be… well, sex-related.”
My jaw drops. Literally I could catch flies.
“As far as the others, it varies. My sisters rarely push boundaries, but if they do, they’ve been sentenced to exile in another country, and Romeo could sentence Marialena to an arranged marriage. It will come to that eventually, but he’d prefer her input unless she makes poor choices.”
I blink. He continues.
“With my brothers, we’re not above a good beatdown. When I was younger, my father or older brothers were strict with me, and we haven’t changed the hierarchy of authority. I was on the receiving end of a beating from Rome more times than I can count until I grew the fuck up.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
He doesn’t answer. “My brother’s a strict but fair man, Emma. I trust him. But we all adhere to the code of our brotherhood and would die to defend it. To defend each other. But physical punishment’s only one way we maintain order. We didn’t invent this. Romeo’s a lot more likely than my father ever was to make someone pay a fine, to do menial labor, or somehow get back in his good graces by showing repentance.”
“But, Mario, it’s… it’s sick. Twisted. Archaic.” Still, I’m not surprised.
“Call it what you will. We have rules we adhere to. All cultures do, doll, even yours. Just because someone’s is different doesn’t make it wrong.”
I shake my head. “But it is wrong!”
He snorts. “You’ll find all mobs follow the same rules, more or less. Strict codes of conduct. Sometimes, we make exceptions to those rules, but most of the time we do not. And since you’re with me now, you’ll follow these rules or suffer the consequences. And anyway, you’re only thinking like an outsider. From an insider’s perspective, it’s very different.”
“You sound like you’re trying to convince me to join a cult or something.”
He smiles and beckons for me to come to him. I walk over. He holds me to him. “In every single life, there’s a trade-off, sweetheart.” His voice is soft, soothing, as if he’s trying to convince himself as well as me. “Everyone succumbs to something, whether it be the demands of organized religion, a military regime, a tyrannical ruler, a demanding boss, or even a rigid spouse. We all yield in some way, even the most powerful among us. The question is, is the payoff worth it? Do I garner the comfort of the promise of an afterlife when I follow the rules of my religion? Do I like the structure and discipline the military has to offer?” He runs his fingers through my hair. “Do you enjoy the way it feels being with a man who takes charge of you?” His voice softens, and I feel myself lulled by him, as if seduced by a charmer. “Doesn’t it feel nice not to have to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders for a little while?”
I don’t answer him, because I’m not sure how. He has a point. To me, the rules of mob life seem overbearing, but the trade-off to him seems worthwhile. He gains the loyalty of his brothers, financial security, and likely other benefits I don’t even know yet. He makes a fair point.
“There’s something very important for you to know, Emma,” he says quietly. I like the feel of his fingers threading through my hair, the soothing massage along my scalp and the tangibility of his affection. If I were a betting woman, I’d bet Mario’s number one love language is physical affection. Mine, too, though I’m usually loathe to admit it to anyone I’m not super close to.
“What’s that?” I ask in a low voice, lulled by the intimacy of the moment and the caress of his deep, melodic voice. I love his voice and could listen to him talk all day long. I could fall asleep listening to him read aloud from any old book. If he read poetry to me, I might fall in love.
“Not all mobs are the same, doll. Some are more leader-centric and cruel. Some make their money off the backs of innocents, and some rule by brute force. Then some… like our brotherhood… rely on the loyalty of their inner core to strengthen who they are. And yes, they don’t always follow the rules or even state laws or mandates. But some of us have a much higher code of conduct or rule of ethics than you may think.”