Copyright © 2023 by Olivia Thorn

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 EPILOGUE

Rachel

Despite the emerging respect between me and Niccolo, he still kept

me handcuffed to the chair in the parlor.
More accurately, I let him keep me handcuffed to the chair.
Everything changed shortly after 10 AM.
Niccolo answered a call on his cell phone. I could hear the stress in
his voice as he said, “Talk to me.”
I watched him intently, my stomach churning as I searched his face
for clues.
First, he seemed relieved – but then he sat forward, a look of even
greater tension on his face. “How bad is it?”
PLEASE let Lars be alright, I prayed.
Niccolo looked stunned at the answer. “Jesus Christ… hold on, I’ll
get him. Yes, she’s right here. I’ll put you on speakerphone.”
“Lars?!” I whispered.
Niccolo nodded as he placed the phone on the coffee table. “You
can take off the handcuffs now.”
Then he turned and walked quickly towards the door.
“Where are you going?!” I asked in shock.
“To get my brother,” he said as he left the room.
 “…handcuffs?” Lars said over the speakerphone.
“Never mind – are you okay?!” I cried out as I started picking the
locks.
“I’m fine. It was just like you said – Zollner was in the bell tower,
and I had one shot to get him.”
“And did you?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s fantastic!”
“…yeah. Except we lost 14 guys, and Massimo got shot up pretty
badly.”
“…oh my God…”
Lars told me how Massimo had become a one-man wrecking crew
and fought his way to the top of the tower. Once there, he had saved the
female hostage – whom he had apparently fallen in love with and
proposed to last night! – and killed his traitorous cousin Aurelio, the
asshole I’d met when Fausto hired me.
But it came at a horrible cost.
“The chopper just lifted off. They’re taking him to the hospital.”
“How bad is it?” I asked fearfully.
“Pretty bad. He could still pull through – Massimo’s as strong as
an ox – but it’s not looking great. He – ”
The door to the parlor opened.
 “They’re coming,” I warned him in a low voice, not wanting him to
say anything pessimistic.
Dario strode in, a pained expression on his face. Niccolo looked
equally severe as he followed close behind him.
“Lars,” Dario said out loud.
“Did Niccolo fill you in?”
“Yes. How bad is Massimo?”
“He got shot multiple times. He had a bulletproof vest on, but a few
got through. He’d lost a lot of blood by the time we got him on the
chopper.”
“And Adriano?”
“He got shot, too, but his vest stopped them all. He broke a few
more ribs, but he’ll be fine.”
“Alright,” Dario said, his face dark. “We’re coming to you –
hopefully, we’ll be there within three hours.”
“Um… I’m not entirely sure that’s a good idea…”
“How many of the mercenaries did you and the others kill?”
“Dozens.”
“And Massimo killed Aurelio?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ve broken the back of their operation. It’s as safe as it’s
going to be for the immediate future.”
“But – ”
 “Tell me the truth,” Dario interrupted. “What are the odds Massimo
survives?”
There was a long pause.
“…50-50. Maybe.”
“I didn’t get to say goodbye to my father when he died, which you
well know,” Dario said. “There’s no way in hell I’m risking that with my
brother.”
“I understand. But… what does Niccolo think?”
“This is the one time where I agree that the need outweighs the
risk,” Niccolo replied. “We have to be there. No exceptions.”
“Alright – I’ll make sure it’s as safe for you as possible.”
“Thank you.”
“Could I ask you a favor?”
Dario smiled at me. “She’s coming with us.”
I stared at him in shock and thought, I am?!
“Thank you,” Lars said.
“Do you need to tell her anything else before I hang up?”
“I love you, Älskling,” he said.
Tears sprang to my eyes. “I love you, too.”
“See you soon.” His voice changed to a respectful tone as he said,
“Thank you, Don Rosolini.”
“The very least I could do, my friend. See you soon.”
 Dario hung up the phone and handed it to Niccolo – then saw the
handcuffs I’d taken off.
“Did he really keep you handcuffed to the chair?!” Dario asked as
he gave his brother an indignant look.
“He was just being cautious,” I said, not wanting to get Niccolo in
trouble.
“Not like she couldn’t get out of them in five seconds anyway,”
Niccolo snorted. Then he turned to me. “Before we go, I want your word
on something.”
“What?” I asked.
“That you won’t hurt me, Dario, his wife Alessandra, or my sister-
in-law Bianca.”
“Niccolo,” Dario chided.
“No,” Niccolo insisted, “I want her to swear.”
“I swear I won’t hurt any of you,” I said.
“Not good enough,” Niccolo said testily.
Dario saw my frown and explained, “In the Cosa Nostra, we swear
on the things most holy to us. The things that we would rather die than
have taken from us if we tell a lie.”
Oh.
That was easy.
“I swear on the life of the man I love,” I said quietly.
Dario and Niccolo both exchanged a look.
 “Good enough for me,” Niccolo said. “Come on.”

***

It turned out there was a small airstrip on the property nestled

amongst the vineyards and olive groves. Forty-five minutes after Lars’s
phone call, two Mercedes drove us out to meet the plane: Niccolo and I
in one car and Dario and two women in the other.
“Is this your airplane we’ll be flying on?” I asked Niccolo.
“No, I had to call in some favors.”
“How do you know there isn’t a bomb on board?”
He looked at me with a wry smile. “Look at you. Attempting to kill
us one week, trying to save us the next.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“We have bomb-sniffing dogs going over it right now, but if you’d
like to take a second look, please – be my guest.”
Once we got to the airstrip, I did just that. From my time in MI6, I
was well acquainted with the best places to plant a bomb, and I
inspected every single one.
Everyone else was situated in the cabin when I got onboard. It was
Niccolo, Dario, two women, and six foot soldiers guarding them.
“Looks clean to me,” I said to Niccolo.
“What a relief,” he responded drily.
 Dario gave his brother a disapproving look, then nodded at me.
“Thank you for looking.”
“Sure thing.”
There were groups of seats facing each other – two on one side of
the aisle and four on the other. Dario and Niccolo were in the single
seats, so I sat across from the two women.
One of them I’d seen earlier that morning – Adriano’s wife. They’d
said goodbye in the early morning darkness before the men drove away.
The other I hadn’t seen yet, but I assumed she was Dario’s wife.
Both were younger than me and quite pretty, although they didn’t fit
my preconceived notion of mafia wives at all. They looked… normal.
Although they watched me with wide eyes like little children.
I realized the situation was a bit… awkward… and I needed to
address it. Otherwise, it was only going to get worse.
“Um… are you Don Rosolini’s wife?” I asked the innocent-looking
one.
“I am,” she said cautiously.
I winced. “I’m really, really sorry about what happened three weeks
ago.”
“It’s fine,” Dario interjected from across the aisle.
“I don’t know that I would say it was fine,” the woman told him
indignantly.
Dario shrugged. “She didn’t even know who I was.”
 “And that’s apparently all that matters,” Niccolo said sarcastically.
Dario stared at his brother and said in a commanding voice, “All is
forgiven.”
Niccolo sighed and settled back in his seat.
“Still,” I whispered to Dario’s wife, “I’m sorry.”
She looked at me for a moment… then asked, “Are you Lars’s
fiancée?”
“I am.”
“Were you really a secret agent?” Adriano’s wife asked in a hushed
voice.
I smiled in amusement. “I was.”
“Wow…”
“I’m Alessandra,” the innocent-looking one said, putting out her
hand.
I shook it in relief. Apparently, she wasn’t going to hold a grudge
against me. “I’m Rachel.”
“And I’m Bianca,” the other said as she held out her hand.
“Nice to meet you.”
“If you were a secret agent,” Alessandra said curiously, “why didn’t
you go with Lars and Adriano to Venice?”
“I offered, but Niccolo thought I might try to kill his brothers.”
“Niccolo!” Alessandra said indignantly.
“She tried to kill your husband!” he snapped.
 Dario glared at him.
“It was a concern!” Niccolo protested.
“Which is why he handcuffed me to a chair,” I explained.
“NICCOLO!” both women shouted.
“I GAVE HER BREAKFAST!” he shouted back.
I enjoyed taking shots at Niccolo, but I figured enough was enough.
“It’s true, he did,” I said with a smile. “And it was excellent.”
“I gave her a mimosa and everything,” Niccolo said, annoyed.
“Yes, you did,” I reassured him.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” Alessandra told me.
She hadn’t told me I forgive you for shooting at my husband, but I
figured I’m glad you’re here was a close second.
“Thank you.”
“And I’m glad he’s not handcuffing you to the airplane seat,”
Bianca added.
“Give him time,” I said wryly.
Niccolo raised one finger. “Actually – ”
Both Alessandra and Bianca glared at him.
“Kidding – kidding!” he said. “Madonn…”

***
 The flight was uneventful. I talked to Alessandra and Bianca the
entire time, and we traded stories about how we had met our men.
Alessandra’s was almost unbelievable, what with all the intrigue
and unknowingly being the granddaughter of another mafia family.
Bianca’s was no less dramatic. Getting kidnapped by a Sicilian
gangster… sacrificing herself to save Adriano…
Although they both seemed entranced by my tale of MI6 and my
conniving ex, Alistair.
“What an asshole,” Bianca gasped.
“He was definitely that,” I agreed.
It was a short flight. About 30 minutes after we took off from
Tuscany, we landed at an airport outside Venice.
Several Rolls Royces were waiting for us on the tarmac, along with
guys in black suits and sunglasses.
“Courtesy of the woman whose granddaughter Massimo saved,”
Niccolo told me as we got off the plane.
“Can we trust these people?” I whispered.
“I certainly hope so, but if they try anything… kill them for me, will
you?”
“Okay.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I was joking.”
“I wasn’t.”
Niccolo chuckled. “Suddenly, I’m glad we brought you along.”
 ***

The Rolls Royces took us to a dock by the water. Once there, we

boarded two sleek speedboats that ferried us across the bay to the city.
Even though I’d had a number of amazing experiences in my career,
I hadn’t had many as memorable as skimming across the water and
watching the rooftops of Venice come into view. It was almost magical.
The boats took us to a beautiful building on the water’s edge. We
entered a small private canal and disembarked on the ground floor of
one of the most striking residences I had ever seen. The best way to
describe it would be a palace.
Dario and Niccolo’s mansion in Florence was stunning, but it felt
like it was maybe 300 years old. This building might have dated back
seven or eight centuries.
Guards accompanied us to a room where an old woman in black
was waiting. The hem of her dress brushed the floor, and the black lace
collar on her neck looked like it belonged in the 19th century.
She was tiny – about 5’4” and frail – but she projected an aura of
power that I’d only encountered a few times, usually from heads of state.
Dario bowed and kissed the ring on her outstretched hand.
“Signora Fioretti,” he said respectfully. “We are truly grateful to be
received in your beautiful home.”
 “You are most welcome, Don Rosolini. I am most grateful for your
brothers’ valor in returning my granddaughter safely to me… but
especially Massimo. Anything I can do for you and your family, I am at
your disposal.”
“Thank you. May I introduce my wife Alessandra and my sister-in-
law Bianca.”
Alessandra and Bianca acted shy, but the old woman smiled warmly
at them. “Welcome.”
“This is my brother and consigliere, Niccolo,” Dario continued.
“Signora Fioretti,” Niccolo said as he kissed her ring as well. “An
honor.”
“Thank you. And who is this?” the old woman said as she peered at
me.
“Oh,” Niccolo said flippantly, “she’s a former MI6 agent who tried
to kill Dario a few weeks ago.”
The woman did a double take as she looked at Niccolo, then stared
at me.
Dario sighed in exasperation. “You’ll have to forgive my brother,
Signora. This is Rachel, the fiancée of Lars, one of the men who helped
save your granddaughter.”
“Oh yes, the handsome Swede,” she said.
“That’s the one,” I said with a smile.
She frowned and looked at Dario. “Did she really try to kill you?”
 Dario glowered at Niccolo. “It was a misunderstanding.”
Niccolo snorted. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”
The old woman looked over at me. “But you did try to kill him?”
“It was before we knew each other,” I said diplomatically.
“WELL,” said the old lady, “thank heaven you and I know each
other now. Your fiancé is resting in a bedroom on the second floor if
you’d like to go see him.”
I smiled at her joke and said gratefully, “Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re quite welcome. Leandro, do take her up,” the woman said,
and a guard walked over to escort me upstairs.
As we exited the room, I heard her say to Dario, “I must say, you
surround yourself with the most interesting people, Don Rosolini.”

***

The guard led me to a room on the second floor and knocked.

“Come in,” a muffled voice said inside.
The guard gestured as though to say Go ahead, then left.
I opened the door.
Inside, Lars stood before a mirror. He wore a pair of pants and was
buttoning a fresh white shirt. His hair was wet and slicked back from a
recent shower.
As soon as he saw me, he smiled. “You came.”
 “Of course I came!”
I ran to him and he spun me around in his arms.
We kissed for a moment, then I pulled back. “Actually, a more
accurate way of putting it is they let me come.”
“I’ll have to thank Dario for that.”
“Niccolo said it was fine, too.”
“Really,” Lars said in surprise.
“We’ve come to something of a mutual understanding.”
He made a face like he was impressed. “You must have charmed
him.”
“I have that effect on men.”
“That you do,” he said with a grin.
I peered into his eyes and brushed my hand across his beard. “How
are you?”
“Massimo’s going into surgery and might not make it. Adriano got
his ribs busted, and 14 men I trained and befriended are dead. Six others
have gunshot wounds. I’m the only one who walked away without a
scratch.” He shook his head. “I feel like shit.”
“Survivor’s guilt,” I whispered.
“Yeah.”
“But you’re the one who took out the sniper.”
“…yeah.”
“If you hadn’t, how many would have survived?”
 “…none.”
I smiled at him sadly. “Then thank God you were there. I just wish I
could have been there for you.”
“I’m actually glad you weren’t.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“Because I lost you once and it nearly killed me. If I lost you
again…”
He shook his head somberly as though the sheer horror of the idea
was incomprehensible.
“Well, I’m here now… and I’m staying.”
He smiled and kissed me.
We were still kissing when someone cleared their throat.
“Ahem.”
We both turned to see Niccolo at the open door.
“Sorry to break this up, but we’re heading for the hospital.” He
looked at Lars. “Do you want to come?”
Lars looked down at me. “I probably should.”
I nodded. “I can come, too – ”
“Ehhhhh,” Niccolo said from the doorway, wincing as though he
didn’t like the idea. “Maybe it’s best if you don’t.”
Lars looked irritated. “Why not?”
“Let’s just say the Widow wasn’t overly happy that we brought an
MI6 agent.”
 “Former MI6 agent,” I said.
“Yes, well, try convincing her of that.”
“So she wants me to stay in her house? Alone?”
“I said she could handcuff you to a chair,” Niccolo said.
I glared at him.
“Kidding – kidding,” he said. “Besides, we both know that
wouldn’t work.”
“So much for the mutual understanding,” Lars said in a deadpan
voice.
Niccolo frowned. “What?”
“Nothing,” I said.
“Look at it from the Widow’s perspective,” Niccolo said. “Her
granddaughter and only surviving relative is at the hospital with
Massimo. Lucia was kidnapped by an assassin and held at gunpoint by
my cousin. Now we’ve brought our OWN assassin along without
mentioning it to her beforehand. Do you really think she wants to give
someone another crack at her granddaughter, no matter how many
assurances we give her?”
“…alright,” I grumbled. “It sounds a lot more reasonable when you
put it like that.”
“And I DO so try to be reasonable,” Niccolo said humorously. “I’ll
be downstairs waiting with the others.”
 “You didn’t clear it with the Widow before you brought Rachel?”
Lars asked Niccolo. “That’s not like you.”
“We thought it was important to bring Rachel to you.”
“…thank you,” Lars said, obviously moved.
“You’re welcome,” Niccolo said. “Besides… ask forgiveness, not
permission.”
“Okay, that is like you.”
Niccolo chuckled. “See you downstairs.”
Then he left.
“I could not go to the hospital,” Lars suggested.
“You have to go,” I said as I finished buttoning his shirt.
“But you came all this way – ”
“And I’ll be right here waiting for you when you get back.”
He smiled. “I love you.”
“I know,” I said impishly, then kissed him. “I’ll see you soon.”
We kissed for a few seconds more… and then he left the room to go
join the others.

***

I spent the afternoon and evening in the Widow’s Venetian palace.

I did a tour of the entire building, strolling from room to room and
staring up at the magnificent Renaissance paintings on the ceiling.
 I browsed the massive library, which contained books that historians
would have salivated over.
And the entire time, I had one of the Widow’s armed guards about
20 feet behind me.
He never said a word. He just followed me everywhere I went.
I thought about telling him that he could go do something else,
because if I really wanted to kill him, he wouldn’t have time to draw his
gun.
But I figured that wouldn’t go over so well or put his employer at
ease… so I just tolerated his presence.
He was quiet, at least.
When evening fell, I finally said, “Could I get something to eat?”
He took me to a magnificent dining room with a table big enough
for 40 people –
But only a single place was set. And with fine china and crystal, no
less.
“I can just have a snack,” I protested.
“You’re a guest,” he said. “Please sit.”
And then I proceeded to have one of the best meals of my entire
life.
A servant brought in course after course:
Tuna tartare…
 Ricotta cheese ravioli with basil pesto sauce, raisins, and pine
nuts…
Baked sea bass…
Duck breast in honey with sweet potato and wine sauce…
And an almond tart with custard, candied apples, and cinnamon.
Not to mention several glasses of the best white wine I’d ever had.
“How was it?” the guard asked.
“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,” I moaned.
The guard smiled. “Signora Fioretti will be pleased.”

***

I went up and took a bubble bath after dinner, then lay in bed naked.
I had intended to wait up for Lars –
But I’d been awake for nearly 36 hours, with only a brief nap on the
flight from London to Florence.
I quickly fell asleep…
And only woke up when the door opened.
I jolted awake.
“Who’s there?!” I hissed, reaching for a gun I didn’t have.
“Just me,” Lars whispered in the darkness. “I was trying not to wake
you.”
“It’s okay… turn on the light.”
 He clicked on a lamp, and I blinked against the brightness.
“How’s Massimo?” I asked.
“The operation went great. He hasn’t woken up yet, but he’s going
to pull through.”
“Thank god,” I murmured.
Lars kicked off his shoes and started peeling off his clothes. When
he was down to his boxers, he looked over at me –
And stopped.
“…are you wearing anything under there?” he asked.
“Under what?” I asked coyly.
I pulled the bed sheet just enough for it to slip down, exposing my
bare breasts.
The front of his boxers immediately began to lift up.
“I think you should take those off,” I murmured.
He grinned and pulled them off.
Then he stood there naked, the light shading his magnificent body
as his long, thick cock rose higher and higher with every heartbeat.
“Now I think you should come over here,” I whispered.
He moved to turn off the light –
“Don’t,” I said. “I want to see you.”
He smiled, pulled back the sheets, and got in beside me.
His body was a fucking work of art, and his cock was the pièce de
resistance.
 I stroked it and felt it jump beneath my fingers.
“Unh,” he grunted.
He softly caressed my nipples. They were already firm, but they got
even harder beneath his touch.
“Fuck,” I whispered as I reached down and cupped his balls, then
ran my hand up along his shaft.
“I missed you,” he whispered.
“I was here all day,” I said with a smile.
“No… I mean… for the last four years. I missed you so much.”
I used my free hand to stroke his beard as my other hand caressed
his cock to full stiffness.
“Show me how much,” I whispered.
He leaned over and kissed me… deep and romantic…
And I spread my legs for him as I pulled insistently on his cock.
We never stopped kissing as he positioned himself between my
legs…
And then slowly pressed his swollen head against my lips.
“Mmmm,” I moaned into his mouth.
He took his time entering me… wetting his crown and easing in just
an inch… then easing out and going another inch deeper.
It took almost a minute before he was in me all the way. I gasped to
feel how deep he was.
Then he began to move… softly rocking inside me…
 And he pulled back to look at me.
I peered deep into his eyes as he moved inside me slowly.
I grabbed his muscular ass, dug my nails into his skin, and urged
him to go faster and harder.
His crotch began slapping wetly against mine as he drove his cock
so deep inside me.
I reached down to my clit and began rubbing it, feeling myself go
higher and higher with pleasure.
Within 60 seconds, I was coming.
I stifled my cries so no one would hear, my entire body trembling
from the waves of ecstasy washing over me.
He didn’t stop fucking me – he just kept up that steady, glorious
pounding –
Until it became so overwhelming that I had to make him stop.
We kissed for several minutes, luxuriating in the softness of each
other’s mouths…
And then I rolled him onto his back with his cock still inside me.
I straddled his body, braced my hands against his chest, and began
to grind his cock inside me, rocking my hips in a rolling motion.
His massive hands cupped my breasts, and his fingers gently
pinched my nipples.
The entire time, we never broke our gaze.
 Then I began to lift up and down with my legs, bobbing up and
down on his shaft, driving his cock deep inside me.
He pulled back with his hips, too, and drove his cock hard that extra
couple of inches.
Our bodies smacked wetly together, and I could feel my orgasm
beginning again.
Waves of pleasure radiated from deep inside me every time he
thrust into me.
I bit my lower lip to stop from screaming –
And when I did that, it must have pushed him over the edge.
“FUCK,” he grunted, low and feral.
His muscular chest and washboard abs tensed –
And I felt him suddenly explode inside me, his cock expanding in
bursts as hot liquid jetted inside me.
“OH!” I cried out, unable to contain myself –
And we stared into each other’s eyes, trying to remain silent, our
faces contorted in agony and ecstasy as we came at the same time.
When it was over, I collapsed onto his chest…
Still feeling the occasional pulse of his cock inside me…
And he wrapped me in his strong arms and stroked my hair.
“I’m never letting you go again,” he whispered.
I raised my head and smiled at him.
 “I’m going to hold you to that,” I whispered right before I kissed
him.

I hope you enjoyed the Epilogue for Lars!

If you plan on buying MAFIA KINGS: ROBERTO,

you can go pre-order it here for a special price of $2.99!

(Don’t worry that the release date is so far away – I’ll publish it as soon
as I’m finished with it, probably in Summer 2024. And it will be
available on Kindle Unlimited for folks who want to borrow it when it
comes out.)
 ALSO BY OLIVIA THORN

Mafia Kings: Dario

Mafia Kings: Adriano
Mafia Kings: Massimo
Mafia Kings: Lars
Mafia Kings: Roberto (Pre-order now)

***

AS OLIVIA THORNE

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