Antonio
"Stefano, don't make me repeat myself. Make the necessary preparations before I land there, or you won't like what I'll do to you," I hissed before hanging up the call. Stefano knew I don't joke around when it came to business, but he had always been the playful one. My threats rarely worked on him. He had called last night for an emergency deal that required my presence.
I knew it had to be significant if Stefano was calling me in person. He managed the business in Italy most of the time, but occasionally, I needed to intervene and set things straight with those who tried to take advantage of us. Our casino business wasn't just about making money; it was about power and control. When you walked into one of my establishments, you risked everything, and I would take everything if you lost.
I rarely visit the country myself. The last time I did was two months ago when I sealed a highly profitable deal. I recalled that moment with a light smile. Every detail was executed perfectly. Antonio Di Salvatore doesn't settle for anything less than perfection.
The smile quickly faded when I cast a glance at Camila, seated on the other side of my private jet seat. That woman had a sharp tongue. I had considered leaving her behind and dealing with matters in Italy alone, but I knew that wasn't practical. Not only due to her stubbornness, but I also wanted her available for my pleasure. Despite my desires, something held me back from taking things further last night, a voice in my head that seemed to halt my actions. That doesn't mean she escaped punishment, though. I anticipated the pleasure I would give her once we were alone, ensuring it became etched in her memory.
I had informed her father that she would accompany me to Italy. He had tried to protest, but I reminded him of my leverage over his company. I enjoy exercising control over him and his family. Control is engraved in my nature – handling people and assets is second nature to me.
**
"Alla mia Villa (To my Villa)," I instructed my personal Italian chauffeur as we arrived at the airport entrance. He took my suitcase and seated it in the car.
"Sit in the front," I ordered Camila, who had been silent since leaving New York. I will make her talk later.
The drive to my villa was a long one. I had chosen a secluded location in Italy, far from disturbances. Stefano was the only one with access to it while I was away. The car was filled with silence as I scrolled through the internet, briefly smirking at the sight of Camila's father in the news. The man never seemed to rest, always involved in signing new deals. It was clear where his daughter's stubbornness originated from.
Even with the way he was becoming serious, he can't measure up to top businesses, like mine. We would always reign supreme. The sacrifices made weren't in vain. I had grown tired of witnessing flawed businesses attempting to imitate one another, using unethical methods to climb the ladder. I shook my head at the sight of Mia's picture, embarking on yet another one of her missions with her friends, spending our father's money without a care. I don't entirely blame her; she was a daddy's girl who had been pampered far too much.
However, she was well aware that I wouldn't tolerate such behavior from her. That's why we don't get along very well. I don't know why father had allowed her to become a public figure, especially as a model. The Di Salvatore family should be focused on robust business ventures, not old-fashioned pursuits. I had to intervene to prevent him from granting her access to his private jet – that would have been a disaster.
I powered off the tablet and slipped it into my bag as the car came to a halt at my villa. The chauffeur opened the car door, and we stepped out. "Stai dietro. Usciremo tra mezz'ora (Stay behind. We'll be out in half an hour)," I declared before leading the way inside.
One of my favorite parts of the villa was the breathtaking view visible from within. The bulletproof glass doors confirmed everything remained under control. I always take thorough measures in my dealings. Camila's eyes sparkled with surprise as she absorbed the sight of the house. I couldn't help but smile at her display of wonder. "You can admire the view later. For now, we have somewhere to be," I broke the silence, redirecting her focus from her explorations.
She didn't respond, instead turning her head in another direction to avoid meeting my gaze. I wondered what plan she was conceiving. However, she should know that there was no escape from here. Not under my watch, and certainly not in Italy. I was familiar with the country like the back of my hand. "Wait... where is your bag?" I asked, noticing that she wasn't carrying any luggage. Had she left it in the car?
"I don't have any," she retorted, her tone sharp.
I arched an eyebrow in a questioning manner, urging her to explain her statement. "And that's supposed to mean what?"
"Exactly what you heard. I came just as you dragged me out of the house." I closed my eyes briefly, suppressing the anger that was bubbling inside me. How had I failed to notice that she had left the house without packing any clothes? Yes, I had forcibly taken her from the house due to her stubbornness, but now it seemed she was trying to outwit me.
"You can wear something from your room. Be ready in fifteen minutes," I instructed, motioning for her to follow me. My villa had numerous rooms, and I had assigned her the one adjacent to mine.
"Everything you need is in there. Fifteen minutes," I warned before turning and striding to my room to freshen up as well.
"What the hell are you still doing here, not ready?" I snapped as I descended the stairs. Camila was seated on the couch, still wearing her old clothes. She didn't budge or even acknowledge my presence. That enraged me, and I stormed toward her, yanking her to her feet.
"What's wrong with you? Didn't I tell you to change out of these clothes?" I hissed, tightening my grip on her arm. A pained expression crossed her face, but her gaze remained fierce. Something intense was brewing in her eyes.
Her next words caught me off guard, and I knew that taming this woman would prove to be a challenge. "You want a whore, and this outfit is revealing enough, so there's no point in changing." My eyes involuntarily flickered to her exposed cleavage, and a surge of desire coursed through me. I swallowed hard, attempting to regain my composure.
"You must be an idiot!"
"Isn't that what you want?" she shot back. I pressed her face closer to mine, locking my gaze with hers. Her body trembled for a moment at the proximity. Fear resurfaced in her eyes. "You're a damn bitch for thinking I'd allow you to go out dressed like this!"
"Listen," I growled, pinning her arm behind her back. She winced again. "You're trying to prove how stubborn you are, aren't you? Perhaps because you feel I didn't punish you enough last night. Is that it?" I pressed my nails into her cheeks.
"Only you and I are here. If I so desire, I could put a bullet in your head this very instant, and there'd be no consequences," I uttered, watching her eyes widen at my words. Maybe it was time to show her the extent of my capabilities. I retrieved the gun I had kept as an emergency precaution and aimed it at her forehead. A gasp escaped her, fueling my satisfaction.
"Are you still going to act stubborn?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow. I sensed her body quivering within my grasp. She remained silent, but her expression spoke volumes. She was defenseless.
Withdrawing the gun and returning it to its concealed location, I released my grip on her face and arm. "Now, be a good girl and get your pretty ass moving," I ordered. She immediately started moving forward. I could swear her legs were trembling. Poor girl, she had no clue that her stubbornness would only worsen her situation. She either obeys me on her own will, or I make her comply. Forcefully.
The chauffeur was already waiting in the car. "Sit at the back," I ordered when I noticed she was about to get into the front seat. Her eyes met mine, and I detected a hint of skepticism in her gaze. However, she reconsidered and slid into the back seat. I followed suit. There was no way I'd allow her to enter the casino wearing a revealing outfit like that. Her body was mine to see and pleasure, not for hungry fools. "Prima, portaci al negozio," I instructed the driver before sparing Camila a brief glance. Her fingers were clenched tightly around her dress. And that warmed up my inside. Antonio always have everything under his control.