Episode 11

Vincenzo entered the room with her and locked the door behind them. He tossed his jacket onto the couch, placed his gun holster on the dresser, and stood facing Amanda, arms crossed and furious.

"Now, would you care to explain why I come home to find one of my guests sprawled on the floor and my dining room turned upside-down?" he asked, his gaze fixed seriously on Amanda.

"Do you really want to know why? Fine, I'll tell you," Amanda retorted, rising to stand with her hands defiantly on her hips.

"The reason is quite simple—if you want to keep two mistresses in your house as if it were a harem, never let them meet. Because every time I come across that cow, this is what happens, especially if she insults me by calling me your new little wh*re," Amanda spat out, seething with anger toward him.

He grabbed her from behind the neck and pulled her face close to his, almost kissing her.

"And Sabrina wasn't lying; that's what you are, my little wh*re. Or did you believe you meant something more in my life?" With those words, he kissed her—a kiss more of punishment than passion, so much so that Amanda could taste blood on her lips. He then released her and ran his hands through his hair.

"See what you do with these defiant attitudes? You only manage to draw out the worst in me," Vincenzo declared, sighing with exasperation, noticing a trickle of blood on her well-formed lips.

"If I am just a whore to you, why did you tell your employees I was your fiancee?" Amanda questioned, wiping the blood away from her lips.

"If you must know, I really wanted to make you my wife because it would have suited my purposes. My father's pressuring me to marry, saying a true capo should have a wife and children, and I couldn't marry any of my mistresses because a capo's wife must be pure and never belonged to any other man. Even though, as they say, I've 'eaten the cake before the feast,' you were surely pure, and I'm the only man who has had you, and I will certainly be the last," he said, approaching her again and caressing the small cut on her soft lips.

"And why did you change your mind? Not that I want to marry you. But I must confess, being seen as your wife is far better than being your wh*re," Amanda admitted, her head bowed in embarrassment.

"Because the scene I witnessed in the living room, your explosive temperament, made me reconsider. Imagine if we were married and you reacted like this every time you encountered one of my ex-mistresses? You would tarnish my reputation, and I'd become a laughingstock for having a wife who behaves like a brawling girl," Vincenzo replied, crossing his arms again.

"Just so you know, I acted like that because she insulted me first," Amanda retorted angrily.

"I don't believe you. Sabrina may be spoiled and arrogant, but she's always been classy. She wouldn't stoop to what you did—insult someone in my home," he scolded, looking at her seriously.

"Well, you're entirely wrong because that's precisely what she did. My hair is soaked because she threw juice at me. But fine, I admit, I threw it at her first after she hurled every name at me," Amanda said, growing angrier at the thought that he considered the other woman superior just because she had money.

"I don't believe a word you say; like I said, I know Sabrina well and from the little I know of you, you're hot-tempered and likely offended her first," Vincenzo insisted, with an accusing stare.

"Oh, you know what? If you find her so wonderful, why aren't you there with her right now? She must need you more than I do. The two of you make a perfect pair—the stupid, arrogant mobster and the bitchy, spoiled heiress," Amanda said as she moved past him, intending to head to the bathroom for a shower, as she was all sticky from the juice. But Vincenzo pulled her back with such force that their bodies collided.