Mafia Kings: Adriano: Dark Mafia Romance Series #2
Mafia Kings: Adriano: Chapter 79

We arrived at the restaurant just before 8 PM. Adriano was driving the new Mercedes we’d brought from his family’s estate.

Dusk was beginning to fall as the valet helped me out of the car. “Buonasera, Signorina. Welcome to Il Duomo.”

‘Il Duomo’ in Italian means the cathedral.

And ‘il Duomo’ was the name of the most famous building in all of Florence: the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore. In English, that would be Saint Mary’s of Florence.

It was a giant church known for its red-tiled dome and bell tower that soared above the city.

Il Duomo was to Florence what the Eiffel Tower was to Paris, or the Statue of Liberty to New York: the most famous landmark everyone thought of when someone mentioned the city.

The restaurant had cheekily taken the landmark’s name for itself and created an ironic little spin on it: a huge, glass, geodesic dome shaped exactly like the top of the cathedral. Beneath it, underground, was the restaurant itself.

Some people loved it. They compared it to the gigantic glass triangle that the architect I.M. Pei designed for the Louvre 40 years ago. You know, the one that figured so prominently in The DaVinci Code.

Other people hated the dome. They said it was a blight on the classical beauty of Florence, a big glass-and-steel scar on the city’s face.

By the way, it’s worth noting that half of Paris loathed I.M. Pei’s creation when it was first unveiled…

Just like half of Paris detested the Eiffel Tower back in the late 1800s. They called it the ‘iron asparagus.’

And both are now iconic – almost synonymous with the ‘City of Lights.’

I figured that, given time, the restaurant would gain the same sort of approval.

I never thought I would be visiting it, though.

It was a three-star Michelin restaurant, the highest rating in the culinary world.

It had a world-famous chef as the owner…

And the meals typically averaged around $1500 apiece. That’s without wine – which could add thousands (or tens of thousands) to the bill.

This was a fairytale realm, just like Adriano’s family home…

And I had to pinch myself as he led me down the steps from the street level into the dark, cavernous lobby of the restaurant.

When the maître d’ saw us coming, he bowed at the neck. “Welcome, Signor Rosolini. Your table is ready.”

Then he led us down a short hallway towards the main part of the restaurant.

“How did you get a table on such short notice?” I whispered to Adriano.

“I didn’t just get a table – I got THE table,” he said with a smile.

“How?! I’ve read this place is booked out months ahead of time!”

“Niccolo made them an offer they couldn’t refuse.”

And then he winked at me.

I looked at him uneasily.

Given that Adriano was using a line from The Godfather that had resulted in a horse’s head in a man’s bed…

I didn’t really want to know what Niccolo had said in order to secure the reservation.

However, all that was forgotten when we walked into the restaurant itself.

My first impression was space.

It was gigantic – hundreds of feet across…

And a couple of hundred feet high.

The glass dome loomed far overhead.

It felt like being inside a gigantic snow globe – just without the snow.

And the view….

The glass triangles inside the steel frame showed the colors of the sunset and the deepening purples of the sky. They would eventually all fade to black, and we would be eating beneath the stars.

Not only that, but ancient buildings surrounded the glass dome, adding a bit of medieval class.

The décor inside the restaurant was a study in dark wood and crimson highlights…

Along with the white linen tablecloths, sparkling crystal glasses, and glinting silverware.

Everywhere you looked, there was something beautiful to behold.

And that was just the sights.

The smell of the food was mouth-watering…

Fresh-baked bread… exquisitely seared cuts of meat… the scent of spices…

And the sounds!

There was a small band on the far side of the restaurant: strings, clarinets, muted trumpets. They softly played what sounded like American Big Band or maybe jazz. But it was soft and melodic – just enough to be heard but not enough to be intrusive.

The music was for a parquet dance floor in the center of the restaurant, where beautifully dressed women and rich men danced elegantly.

It felt like a scene out of a Hollywood movie from the 1940s – a nightclub in paradise.

Dozens of tables of various sizes surrounded the dance floor…

But the maître d’ led us to a raised dais at the far end of the room.

Every spot on the platform had a view of the entire restaurant and dance floor, not to mention everything outside the glass dome.

There were half a dozen tables…

All of them empty.

The maître d’ led us to the central table and pulled out my chair for me.

Adriano sat down in the other.

“As requested,” the maître d’ said as he picked up a bottle from the table, “Petrus Pommerel, Bordeau, 2005 to start.”

He poured us two glasses and then bowed. “Your waiter will be with you shortly.”

Adriano nodded, and the maître d’ walked away.

I looked around at the empty tables. “Um…”

“Couldn’t risk having civilians around us,” Adriano said as he sipped his wine.

I stared at him. “You didn’t just get a table at the last minute… you got ALL these tables… and nobody’s even going to use them?!”

“Can’t be too careful,” he said with a smile. “Try the wine.”

I took a sip…

And almost had an orgasm on the spot.

“Oh my god,” I whispered.

He grinned. “My family likes the finer things in life.”

I looked around in wonder. “I can see that…”

The band began to play an old, old song I’d heard before but couldn’t place. It was one of those songs you watched soldiers in WWII movies dance to slowly with their dates.

Adriano got up from his seat, walked over to me, and offered me his hand.

“Care to dance?”

I’d only gone to loud clubs with my friends – the kind where you just did bump ‘n grind to DJ remixes.

Nothing like this.

I looked at the elegant couples slow-dancing and said, “I don’t know how…”

“I do. I’ll show you.”

I looked into his warm eyes…

Then took his outstretched hand and followed him to the dance floor.

When we stepped onto the floor, he took my right hand in his left…

Put his other hand on my waist…

And began to move me around the floor effortlessly.

It was like he controlled my body…

Both of us gently swaying together…

And all I had to do was follow his lead.

I put my free hand on his shoulder and gazed deep into his eyes.

“You look stunningly beautiful,” he murmured.

“You look stunningly handsome, yourself.”

“I had to up my game.”

“Maybe, if you play your cards right… I’ll go home with you tonight.”

He grinned. “Is that so.”

“…maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, then I’ll have to play my cards perfectly.”

I smiled… but it was forced.

Adriano could tell.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “We’re surrounded by friends.”

“What do you mean?”

“See those three guys standing over by the kitchen?”

He swung me gently around so I was looking in the right direction.

“Oh,” I whispered.

I recognized them from the warehouse headquarters in Florence.

Now they were dressed as waiters with black vests and bowties over white shirts.

“There are two more by the restrooms and another five scattered throughout,” he said quietly. “I’m sure you recognize Massimo.”

Adriano moved me again –

And I noticed a gigantic man sitting at a table at the far end of the restaurant.

“Valentino is in the lobby. Lars is up on one of the roofs, watching us through a sniper scope,” Adriano whispered.

I let my eyes drift up to the geodesic dome and wondered where Lars was.

“It’s all going to be fine,” Adriano said.

I nodded nervously.

“Hey,” he said, and I looked up at him. “We can leave right now if you want.”

I shook my head no. “It’s okay. I’m just… it’s not a plan anymore. It’s really happening.”

Adriano nodded. “It gets intense when the moment arrives.”

“So much about this has been intense…”

“Getting shot at?” he asked playfully.

I looked at him seriously. “Meeting you.”

He stared into my eyes as I continued to speak.

“Obviously, I wish my father wasn’t mixed up in this. But… if it were just me… and my parents weren’t involved… I’d do it all over again. Just so I could meet you.”

“I would absolutely do it all over again,” he whispered. “Just so I could spend one minute with you.”

I smiled. “You mean that?”

“Bianca…”

The softness of the music…

The sway of our bodies…

The depths of his eyes…

It felt like I was hypnotized.

Like it was all a dream.

And then he said something that made it all real.

“…I love you,” he whispered.

I stared at him, my heart beating wildly in my chest.

“…really?” I whispered, my eyes welling up with tears.

He nodded and smiled. “You are everything I ever wanted in a woman. I didn’t know it until I met you. But you’re everything to me now. You’re everything I want… for the rest of my life.”

I struggled so hard not to cry.

“…say it again,” I whispered.

“Which part?”

“…you know which part.”

He smiled. “I love you.”

I sobbed. “I love you, too.”

He pressed me against him tight…

And we stayed still on the dance floor, the others slowly circling around us…

As he held me and we kissed.