Chapter one

"We gather here today to celebrate the life of our dear brother, Ignacio Bellucci, whose existence was a testimony of generosity and love to everyone around him. He has now returned to his home with Our God, The Father. We are—"

Noemi's attention to the priest was cut off when her friend, Amelia, grabbed her arm. "Are priests allowed to lie whilst standing at the altar of God?" She whispered. "Everyone knows Master Ignacio isn't generous and loving."

Noemi patted Amelia's arm and returned her attention to the pulpit where the Priest was standing. "We can't say ill things about the dead, Amy."

"Yeah, whatever. I'm glad he's dead."

Noemi Armani shook her head at Amelia's whispered statement, but deep down, she agreed. As servants in the Bellucci mansion, the late Master Ignacio had made their lives a living and breathing hell. Seeing him lay in the open casket, his arms idly folded forever, she felt a deep sense of satisfaction. He could not hurt them anymore.

The air inside the dimly lit chapel was thick with tension, as fellow mobsters in black suits filled the right side of the church, to bid farewell to a fallen member. The front pew on the right side belonged to the family of the deceased, but it was empty. She had always heard that Master Ignacio had a son, but in her five years working in the mansion, she had never set her eyes on him. Today, of all days, when he was supposed to be here, he wasn't. That spoke so much about the relationship between father and son.

"Let's all be silent for one minute as we pray for the dead," the Priest said, holding a closed fist towards the music corner where a keyboardist was playing a sombre tone. The music stopped, and so did the underlying lushness in the church. The chapel was plunged into silence, penetrated only by the ticking of the grandfather clock hanging above the altar.

"God has mercy on the dead," Noemi said under her breath. "Please forgive all his sins and—" A lump in her throat stopped her from speaking. Amelia was right. It wasn't right to lie in the church. The truth was that she wished Master Ignacio would rot in hell, but she couldn't say that, so she kept quiet instead.

As soon as the one-minute silence ended, there was a loud bang from behind the church as the chapel door was opened so violently, it slammed against the wall behind. The Priest's head snapped in the direction of the ruckus, a dissatisfied expression clouding his old face. Noemi looked behind her, but she was too small to see above everyone's heads.

"Oh, he's here," Amelia whispered to her again. "Master Ignacio's son, Mario. He's here."

Amelia's words only served to heighten Noemi's curiosity and she craned her head to see behind her again. By now, the church had been plunged into a noisy cacophony of agitation and clamouring. Everyone was pointing and whispering to each other, as Mario Bellucci walked up the church, towards the front pew.

Noemi couldn't see his face, but she caught a glimpse of him as he approached the pew. She had thought Master Ignacio was tall, but his son was easily the tallest man she had ever seen. He towered over everyone, even the security surrounding him as he walked. He was wearing a tailored black suit that screamed money and his curly hair was as black as his suit. When he sat on the front pew, the security men fell back and the chapel hushed again.

"God, we thank you for the life that you give us," the Priest said. "It is full of work and of responsibility, of sorrow and joy. Today we thank Ignacio Bellucci, for what he has given and received. Help us in our mourning and teach us to live for the living in the time that is still left to us. Thank you for eternal life that can give light and joy to our days and years already here on earth. God, we thank you for your Son, Jesus Christ. Help us to see that it is he who opens the gate to life that shall never die."

After the prayer, the choir read a closing hymn and the church service ended. As the congregation trickled out of the church, Noemi tried to catch a curious glimpse of Mario again, but he was hidden by the crowd as they pushed her towards the exit. Once outside the church, she sighed in frustration and started to walk back towards the house. It was a forty-minute walk, so she had better start now.

She had hardly walked a distance when Amelia and Cornell caught up to her. "Were you leaving without us?" Amelia asked with a frown, falling into step beside her.

"Sorry. I got carried away." She smiled at Amelia and put an arm around the girl.

"Did you see Master Ignacio's son?" Amelia gushed. "He is so handsome, my goodness. He's nothing like his ugly father."

"Amy!" Cornell chastised. "The man is dead, let him rest in peace."

"Well, that's not up to me. Left to me, he'll rot in hell."

"I can't argue that." Noemi shrugged.

"So what next?" Cornell asked the question that has been on everyone's mind. "Where do we go from here?"

Noemi pondered the question in her mind as they neared the mansion. Now that Master Ignacio was dead, were they free? Could they leave without any repercussions?

"Do you think Master Ignacio's son will take over the business?" Amy asked, her voice weak with fear. "I mean, if he does, then we cannot leave. Can we?"

"No, we can't." Cornell shook his head. "But I doubt he'd take over. Mario and his father were sworn enemies before his father's death. They cut communication with each other over twelve years ago, so there's no way he would take over."

Noemi shuddered over the thought of Mario taking over his father's business and in turn, the responsibility of them. Would he be worse than his father? Or better? She's confused, but after being through a lot in her twenty-one years of existence, she was used to letting things happen. Worrying before it only compounded the problem.

For now, they were without a master, so they had better take advantage of the situation. "I have an idea." She raised a finger. By now, they had reached the gates of the mansion. "Since we don't have any master yet, how about we steal a bottle of expensive wine from the cellar and celebrate tonight? Hmm? We can tell the others."

"That's a great idea." Cornell skipped down the cobblestone path that led to the front door. "At least, for once in our miserable existence in this mansion, let's have this night to ourselves."

***

It was past midnight and the servant quarters were bubbling with activities like never before. The centre table in their living room was filled with several bottles of wine stolen from the cellar; and luxury dishes they were never allowed to touch when Master Ignacio still ruled the house. Noemi was tipsy and so was Amelia. Cornell was the makeshift DJ and he was currently tweaking the soundbox, blasting music from Kaleb Di Masi and Raffa FL.

Jennifer danced towards Noemi and Amelia who were sprawled on the couch, tipsy and mellow. "Let's dance." She grabbed both their arms and pulled them up. Amelia fell back on the couch with a groan. "I can't stand, ugh." She shook her head. "I'll throw up."

Jennifer let her go and turned her attention to Noemi. "Come on, let's dance." The alcohol in Noemi's system was charging her blood, causing her head to expand and contract with excitement. She grabbed Jennifer's waist and started to whine, following Jennifer's lead. Around her, some of the servants were kissing and feeling up each other. In one corner of her mind, Noemi knew they would all regret it tomorrow. But for now…

Suddenly, the music stopped and they all shouted, turning to Cornell to tell him off. Cornell's eyes were wide with shock and he was looking towards the entryway, his body shaking like a leaf fresh out of water. Noemi turned in the direction he was staring and her blood froze as cold spread through her body.

Mario Bellucci was standing at the door, his hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers. He was half-hidden in the darkness shrouding the hallway, but his silhouette was enough to make warmth pool in between Noemi's legs. It's been so long since she felt this way.

For a long moment, absolute silence reigned in the quarters as they all stood shaking under the stare of Mario Bellucci. Finally, he pushed away from the door, straightening to his full height. "I guess I'm not the only one celebrating the bastard's death, no?"

"No, no, no." They all started talking at once as they tried to explain that they weren't celebrating the death of Master Ignacio. After letting them make a fool of themselves for a few seconds, he raised one perfectly manicured finger. "I don't care. Keep the noise down."

They nodded.

"One bottle of Russo-Baltique Vodka in my office," he said. "Now." With that, he turned away, disappearing from view. Cornell didn't resume the music, nor did anyone. They all fell onto the couch, their eyes wide. Most of them were drunk and Noemi doubted if they would remember what happened tomorrow morning. She caught Cornell staring at her. "What?"

"One bottle of Russo-Baltique Vodka," Cornell said. "You heard the man."

"Why me?" Noemi's eyes widened. "I'm tipsy. I can't."

"You're the one who knows liquor." He shrugs. "Everyone else is dead drunk."

"Why can't you? You also know liqueur."

Cornell stood to his feet. "I have other things to do." He bolted from the room. He is scared of meeting Mario Bellucci, so why had he left the task to her? Noemi looked around the room, silently agreeing with Cornell. They were all drunk, even Jennifer who had been active a few moments ago. She rose to her feet and found her way to the cellar. The sooner she got this over with, the better for her.

In ten minutes, Noemi found the alcohol and was on her way to Master Ignacio's office to serve Mario. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest. Master Ignacio had been a hard man to serve, would his son be the same way? She knocked on the office door.

"Hello, sir. I'm here with the alcohol you requested."

After a few seconds of silence, the order came. "Come in."

Noemi balanced the tray against her waist and pushed the door open, shutting it behind her as she stepped in. Mario Bellucci was reclined on his throne-like chair, his shirt unbuttoned and untucked, his sleeves rolled up his large forearms. Finally, Noemi saw his face. He was a beautiful man.

She lowered her eyes and walked towards the desk, her body betraying her at the nearness of this stranger. "Here sir." She set the tray and bottle on the table before bowing her head. "If that will be all?"

"Pour it." She uncorked the alcohol bottle and did as he ordered. He picked up the glass and knocked the shot down his throat. Noemi noticed he didn't even flinch. "Pour." He slammed the glass down. She poured him another shot and he knocked it back down again. "Pour." Noemi poured him another shot for the third time.

After knocking the third shot down his throat, he reached for the bottle on the table and plugged it into his mouth, chugging it down his throat. Alarmed, Noemi snatched the bottle from him, spilling the liquid onto his bare chest.

"I'm so sorry," she cried when he opened his head and looked at her. "It's just—you can't drink the Russo-Baltique this way. Only in small doses."

His gaze roamed her face as if seeing her for the first time. Noemi prayed the ground would open and swallow her. This was the exact reason why she always got in trouble with Master Ignacio. She should learn to let these people make the mistakes they were so desperate to make. Maybe they would learn from it.

"Such a beautiful mouth," Mario Bellucci said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wonder if it does more than talking."

Noemi took a step back and Mario caught that move. His eyes found hers again. Holding her gaze, his hands fell to his trousers and Noemi watched, transfixed as he loosened his belt and pulled out his penis from the confines of his briefs. Her eyes wondered at the size and girth of it. She wanted to run, but her mouth was watering with the need to taste him.

"Come here." His voice was deep and forceful, exuding command without the need to increase volume.

Noemi found her feet taking her towards him, but she stopped when a disapproving look crossed his face. "Get on your knees," he said. Instantly, Noemi obeyed.

"Now crawl to me."

Without protest, Noemi got on all fours and crawled to him, her eyes on his gorgeous penis hanging out of his briefs. She was desperate to taste him and feel him swell in her mouth. As soon as she reached him, he buried his hands in her hair and pulled her towards him. "Open your mouth, Bella piccola cosa."

Her mouth fell open and Mario impaled himself inside, a low groan escaping his lips. "Wider." She opened her mouth wider and he started to thrust into her, his eyes half-closed with pleasure. Noemi felt liquid drip down her thighs and she realized with shock that she was enjoying this; she liked the feel and taste of a stranger's penis in her mouth.

He pushed himself deep into her mouth, down to the back of her throat. Noemi gagged and grabbed his thighs to pull away, but his hold on her hair tightened. "Be a good girl and take it. Hmm?" He didn't let her go. Just when she thought her gag reflex was about to be triggered, he pulled completely out of her mouth.

"Let me see your other lips," he croaked, pulling her up. He lifted her from her knees and sat her on the table in front of him. Noemi recoiled with embarrassment when he saw the liquid dripping slowly down her thighs. Their gazes met and she saw his blue orbs darken with desire. "Looks like you enjoyed being fucked in the mouth, hmm?"

He traced the drop of heat up her thigh until he touched her hot vagina. Noemi screamed at the contact as pleasure burst through her body. He grabbed her thigh and spread them, revealing her bare vagina to his gaze. She wasn't wearing any panties and she was glad she didn't. Mario touched a finger to her clitoris and rubbed gently, putting a hand to his lips when she screamed again.

"I haven't done anything, dolcezza." He rose to his feet and pulled Noemi to the edge of the table. "Let me give you something to scream about, yes?"

Noemi's eyes shut when Mario rubbed the entrance of her hole with his dick and she grinds herself against him, wishing he would hurry and assuage the need deep in her belly. Suddenly, he grabbed her jaw tightly and tilted her head up to himself. Her eyes flew open, only to stare directly into his eyes which were as blue and magnetic as the ocean. It was easy to get lost.

"Have you never been touched, Cara?"

"Uhh?" Noemi stared back in confusion, distracted by the feel of his fingers as he rubbed circles around her clit.

"Virgin?" His fingers tightened painfully around her jaw. "Are you a virgin?"

"No."

"Molto bene. Very good." He let go of her jaw and gently slapped her cheek. "Because I'm about to fuck you hard and fast like a little whore. Will you like that, piccolo?" Noemi nodded, desperate for him to get down to business.

"Keep your eyes on me." He reached between their bodies to put his penis in the entrance of her hole. Noemi moaned. "Please," she begged. "Now."

Without warning, he thrust deep into her, burying himself completely into her body. Noemi screamed at the sensation of being full like never before. "Oh Cara, you're so tight," he moaned, lowering his head to bite her neck. He pulled back a little and slammed into her again. "Harder," Noemi said. "Please."

"Alright bet." Mario gathered her against him and started to pound into her in short quick strokes. Noemi spread her legs wide, her fingers clawing his back through the material of her shirt. Everything felt so good, she knew her climax was coming soon.

Mario was groaning loudly too, his body curled atop her as he thrust into her nonstop. After a few more seconds, he froze. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I'm coming." He started to rub feverishly on her clit, goading her into her climax.

With one last thrust, he pushed into her, holding her there as he spilt himself in a bone-shattering orgasm. The feel of him throbbing inside her sent her over the edge too and she dissolved in a climax of her own. She was still enjoying the aftermath of her climax when he pushed off her and slipped his penis back into his pants. He reached for the bottle again and chugged the content down his throat. This time, Noemi was too weak to stop him.

"Get out," he said, slamming the bottle back on the table, causing Noemi to flinch. He sank onto the leather chair at the desk, the lust gone from his eyes, only to be replaced by anger and disinterest.

Noemi slid from the table and dragged her gown back in place. She felt used and ashamed, but she knew she would do it all over again. She turned to leave. "Hey." His sharp order had her turning back to him.

"Take this filthy thing with you." He pointed to the tray and pushed it away from the table. It fell to the floor with a clang. Noemi bent to retrieve it, speechless at how fast he changed after having sex with her just a few moments ago. With one final look at him, she turned and walked out.