Mafia Love Quotes

This is why you must love life: one day you're offering up your social security number to the Russian Mafia; two weeks later you're using the word calve as a verb.

Maybe love is a risk, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take and as you said, it’s not a choice. I never thought I would, never thought I could love someone like that but I fell in love with you. I fought it. It’s the first battle I didn’t mind losing.

Then so be it. I’ll go where you go no matter how dark the path.

He'd always been a man who followed his head and not his heart.The heart was just a bloody motor.The head was meant to drive

Step one, accept she was a damn boss. Step two, hide all the knives, guns, and maybe the pillows, too.

Love is when you feel safe in someone’s arms, when he’s the first thing you want to see in the morning, love is surrendering. You risk getting hurt but you don’t care. You are willing to give someone the power to break your heart. Love means seeing someone at their worst and still seeing the good in them, love means someone is perfect for you despite their imperfections

Never show anger at slight, tell nothing. Earn respect from everyone by deeds, not Words. Respect the members of your Blood Family. Gambling was Recreation, not a way to earn a Living. Love your Father, your Mother, your Sister but beware of Loving any other Woman than your Wife. And a Wife was a woman who bore your Children. And once that happened to You, your Life was Forfeit to give them their daily bread

The thing about butterflies, Mr. Crow, is that they need to be admired from afar.

He will crush me. He will break me apart. I will let him.

This is the moment I realize that our traumas never really go away. They live inside of us, in the deepest darkest pits of our own tiny hells. Cocked and loaded, waiting for someone to come along and pull the trigger.

Make him be good to you. Make him love you if you can. It’s the only way to get through this.

Love is something girls hope for when they don't know better, something women long for when they lie awake at night, and something they'll only ever get from their children. Men don't have time for such notions.

Nobody has ever looked at me the way he’s looking at me at this moment. Like I’m his possession. Like if anyone else were to touch me, he’d break both their legs and an arm for good measure.

Customers don’t usually tip in Australia. That’s an American etiquette,” Kara explained.

What are you going to do? Shoot me. Do it! I dare you. I don’t care,” she yelled.

Oh, cool,’ Simon said, between bites. ‘Didn’t know the Mafia was still a thing, I love The Godfather. “Revenge is a dish best served cold,”’ he said in a dreadful Italian American accent.

Maybe love is a risk, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take and, as you said, it’s not a choice. I never thought I would, never thought I could love someone like that, but I fell in love with you. I fought it. It’s the first battle I didn’t mind losing.

There’s no before me and you. There’s only us.

But I don’t care because loving you is the only pure thing in my life.

I never realized how empty my life had really become until I had him in it. He did that to me. He said I wrecked him, but he completely destroyed me. Everything was fine when I was alone. When I didn’t have to feel or think or care about someone else. Sure I was sad and broken, but I was okay. Now, I’m anything but.

uh, yeah, I love...worms" Classic. Someone should record the gold that flows from my mouth.

Even if it means I’ll never be the man you give yourself to, I’ll always do anything to protect you.

I’d never known love meant being scared all the time, scared of losing someone you couldn’t live without.

Yes. There’s no fucking doubt in my mind. I love you, Matteo. I don’t care what that makes me. I don’t care what other people think about me, about us. I don’t even care what Aria and Luca think. All I care about is us.

I lied because I hate that I love you, because I hate that you can hurt me without ever laying a finger on me, because I hate myself for loving you even though you won’t ever love me back.

Lucy: Why do you want me to stay? Asher: Because I like you. Lucy: Why do you want me to go? Asher: Because I like you.

I fell in love with a mafia prince.

Those words on your back, I mean them, Luca. I will follow you anywhere. Your darkness doesn’t scare me. I love you, your strength and loyalty, your tenderness and protectiveness. I love your gentle side, but just as much I love your darkness. I’ll love you in your darkest hour, I’ll love you even when you are weak, and if you need me to be your light, I will. I love every piece of you, Luca.

I thought I told you I don’t play by the rules,” I argue. “Ye’re mistaken,” he says. “Ye just walked into my world unbidden. So you will play by the rules, butterfly. You’ll be playing by all my rules.

In the darkest hour you are my light

I’m frozen by the amount of darkness a smile can hold.

I kissed her again. I’d never get enough of tasting her. “I love you, Gianna. I’ve fucking loved you for a long time.

I read the intricate black inked letters: I’ll go where you go no matter how dark the path

But you are my first choice, Aria. I’ll burn down the world if I have to. I’ll kill and maim and blackmail. I’ll do anything for you. Maybe love is a risk, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take and as you said, it’s not a choice. I never thought I would, never thought I could love someone like that, but I fell in love with you. I fought it. It’s the first battle I didn’t mind losing.

You never meant me to be the guy you’d settle down with. Not the safe guy you’d love, but the dangerous one who makes your pulse race.

I want to consume you and engrave myself under your skin so deep, you won't be able to get me out unless one of us dies.

He held me against his body and his upper arm was close to my face, so I turned and bit him. He was so startled he actually released me and I tried to jab him with the knife, but he gripped my wrist. “Did you bite me?” he asked as he stared at my teeth marks on his bicep. “Not hard enough. There isn’t even blood,” I said. Luca’s shoulders twitched once, then again. He was fighting laughter. Not the effect I’d intended when I bit him but I had to admit I loved the sound of his deep chuckle. “I think you’ve done enough damage for one day,” he said.

Is this how Julia Roberts' character feels like in Pretty Woman? Two parts princess, one part whore?

He's beautiful outside; he just needs love to help create some beauty inside where he feels ugly. -The Dominator, DD Prince

So right here, in the arms of the devil himself, I find a peace that even the heavens couldn’t rival.

This wedding wasn’t about love or trust or choice. It was about duty and honor, about doing what was expected.

Love can be as destructive as hatred.

She’s my wife. My son’s mother. Fucking mine. And I’ll go through hell itself if it means keeping her there.

And only then when you look me in the eye and tell me to fuck off will I let you go,” he growled. “I will leave. But until that happens, I will love you. I will lay my heart in your hands, beating and raw. And knowing you, you’d steal it from me. Take my heart, Ana. Please. Steal it from me, because that’s all I want. All I need.

He saved me in so many ways. I didn't see it at first. He saved me from certain death. He's the scariest person I've ever met, but for some reason I felt safe with him. Now I'm just a fading star amongst all the bright ones...All I want is love and all I get is people trying to kill me and take away what peace I manage to find in between.

This is everything I thought I didn't want. Or didn't need. But I'm here now and it's everything I need and the only thing I want.

Don’t go into this lightly. If you’re mine, you need to understand I will burn the fucking world to the ground for you.

He’s not my white knight. Pretty sure he’s my soulmate though.

Trace," I licked my lips and sighed, "To me. You're everything. I'd protect you until my dying day because I can't imagine living in a world where your smile didn't exist.

I don’t want to love you,” I whispered as I jerked to a halt, clenching my eyes shut. But I did. I did love Matteo.

And while the rain swept across the desolate countryside like a cleansing force, they made love to each other – their union not that of heated bodies in need of release, nor that of kindred spirits in certainty of love, but that of broken souls in search of solace.

I have traveled around the world. I’ve walked the Great Wall of China, eaten dinner at the top of the Eiffel Tower, and ridden the bullet train from Tokyo to Osaka. That’s not all. I’ve led an army into battle on dragonback, seduced a vicious mafia boss, and journeyed back in time to fall in love with everyone from Vikings to the Knights of the Round Table. I’ve lived a thousand lives. Too bad the only real one fucking sucks.

I’ve learned that people can find strength when they have someone to protect. And I’ve found the person I want to protect.” His head lifted from my neck and he looked down at me, his gaze studying my face. “You,” he whispered.

Life is short, Forgive a lot, Help plenty, Love like crazy.

Be my woman, Ana. Allow me to call myself yours.

In this fairytale, there was no happy ending. It was a tragedy waiting to happen.

Luca shook his head, his eyes reverent as they trailed over me. “You were born to be a queen.

I did and found words engraved into the inside of the bracelet. In the darkest hour you are my light

You’re my woman now, whether you like it or not. … And I promise I’m going to make damn sure you fucking love it.

I had fallen hard for the woman who had casually smashed someone’s head only moments before, the woman who had held a razor blade to my throat just a few days prior. I knew I would never fully recover from this fall. But I didn’t want to recover.

I would gladly let you drag me to hell with you,” I whispered against her forehead. I would fervently kiss the very ground she walks on, even as we descend into the scorching depths of hell. But she couldn’t hear it. She had already fallen asleep.

You look so f---- good right now, with your tits out,” he said, gripping my hair to pull me back for better access to my neck. “I wanna do so many nasty things to you.” I smiled shyly. “What kind of things?

With Sofiya’s warm body pressed against mine in bed, guilt gnawed atme. Could I really fail this innocent girl? She was like a damsel in distress, a lamb among wolves. Shit. I was supposed to be the wolf she feared.

But I want you to know that you can’t hide from me,” he spoke, his voice trembling with anger. “No. I’m going to turn over every little stone until I find you. I’m going to search every damn house in this world. Until I fucking find you.

She was like a fire, and despite the danger that I could see, I ran straight toward it and plunged into the flames without a second thought. My mind tricked me into thinking that the dangerous heat was comforting and secure. I could feel the heat singe my skin. I was lost in its beauty and danger, completely consumed by the flames.

Fame, power,money,love. The moon, the stars, the whole galaxy. Give it to me.My fetish is domination; not of men, not of my self, of everything. A shiver goes up my spine when I watch other bow their head, In my previous life I must have been a born great queen

I don’t care.” I thrust my groin against hers. “That is the last time that man is in this house. The last time his cock goes anywhere near your pussy.” I rock my hips again and graze my teeth along the column of her neck. “If you need to be fucked, I will fuck you.

I’m going to pick every star from the sky for you. I’m going to buy you every flower in this world. I’m going to give you all my love. One word from you and my heart is yours. I’m yours,” I whispered against her lips. And there it was. A smile. A huge, beaming smile formed on her face. A smile that probably shone as brightly as the moon in the darkness.

I will figure you out. I will figure out what makes you tick, what makes you go so fucking insane you won't know what to do with yourself. I will break you.

Dahlia,” I murmured, and she winced because she could hear the ache in my voice. “If I have to, I’ll love you enough for the both of us.

Oh, how I love you, mi amor. You are the light that shines in the blackness of my night. You are my North star, always leading me home. --Victor Ramirez

He looked so painfully beautiful. So painfully mine.

but his eyes were not scary. I thought they were the least frightening thing about him. They were a soothing gray color. I loved his eyes. They always made me feel calm.

You should wear red, I think. Italian men love red lingerie, and it will look hot on you.

Are you in love? Yes. Are you in pain? Always. Are you happy? Always. In awe they ask me, how can you be all at once! I smile, and respond, because I am alive.

I’m dragging everyone to hell with me.” “I would gladly let you drag me to hell with you.

You need love to have a happy marriage. Life will limp along whether you are happy or sad, but love makes everything better. Fills all the cracks that will swallow you up if you are miserable.

I never wanted Alessio to grow up to become one of them. I didn’t want him to become like my dad. The boy I loved so dearly shouldn’t be like the man I hated. Yet, that would mean only honor to him.

You have haunted me in my dreams, Followed me in my memory, And enamoured me… …Nirvana… Your name echoes in the most silent parts of my mind, Brought to life by the memory of your touch, And the gentle sway of our bodies to the jazz music You have become my obsession, Of which I will never tire. Salvatore

Groaning, he gripped his fists in the wild stuff. “Contessa.God, Contessa.” She straightened, changing the angle, changing the pleasure. She shook her hair back and undulated. She was a contessa.A princess.No,a queen.

The important thing to remember is, no one is ever "fine." No one has it all together without a single crack, or a darkness lurking in their shadows, or a fear dogging their step. The important thing is, you wake up each day and you make the most of it. And if you find someone who makes you stronger, you hang on to them tight.

All my life I'd thought becoming Capo would be the biggest triumph of my life. Not the happiest day, because I hadn't known true happiness. But now, as I met Aria's loving gaze, I knew that she was my greatest victory. Only she brought happiness into days of blood and violence. Only she could fill my dark world with light. She was my light, my love... my life.

What are you going to do about him?”. Gin didn’t have to specify for me to know he was talking about Tex. My heart fluttered, and I absentmindedly rubbed at my chest. “I’m going to drag him home.” Giancarlo’s mouth tilted down in a frown. “He’s a cop.” “He’s the man I love.

The psychologist Daniel Wegner has this beautiful concept called transactive memory, which is the observation that we don’t just store information in our minds or in specific places. We also store memories and understanding in the minds of the people we love. You don’t need to remember your child’s emotional relationship to her teacher because you know your wife will; you don’t have to remember how to work the remote because you know your daughter will. That’s transactive memory. Little bits of ourselves reside in other people’s minds. Wegner has a heartbreaking riff about what one member of a couple will often say when the other one dies—that some part of him or her died along with the partner. That, Wegner says, is literally true. When your partner dies, everything that you have stored in that person’s brain is gone.

Love is the bane (The Sonnet) Love is the boon, Love is the bane. Love is relief, Love is the pain. From love will come your troubles, From love will rise your answer. You'll fail in love, you'll fly in love, In love's insanity your sight will clear. Love is torture, Love is disaster. Love exposes the counterfeits, While it purifies the lover. In a world run by calculating coldness, be the anomaly of love insensible. Cure for this anemic world, is your love impossible.

What is wrong with you?” I say in lieu of greeting. “You went to Morris’s dorm and declared your intentions?” He offers a faint smile. “Of course. It was the noble thing to do. I can’t be chasing after another guy’s girl without his knowledge.” “I’m not his girl,” I snap. “We went on one date! And now I’m never going to be his girl, because he doesn’t want to go out with me again.” “What the hell?” Logan looks startled. “I’m disappointed in him. I thought he had more of a competitive spirit than that.” “Seriously? You’re going to pretend to be surprised? He won’t see me again because your jackass self told him he couldn’t.” Astonishment fills his eyes. “No, I didn’t.” “Yes, you did.” “Is that what he told you?” Logan demands. “Not in so many words.” “I see. Well, what words did he actually use?” I grit my teeth so hard my jaw aches. “He said he’s backing off because he doesn’t want to get in the middle of something so complicated. I pointed out that there’s nothing complicated about it, seeing as you and I are not together.” My aggravation heightens. “And then he insisted that I need to give you a chance, because you’re a—” I angrily air-quote Morris’s words “—‘stand-up guy who deserves another shot.’” Logan breaks out in a grin. I stab the air with my finger. “Don’t you dare smile. Obviously you put those words in his mouth. And what the hell was he jabbering about when he told me you and him were ‘family’?” All the disbelief I’d felt during my talk with Morris comes spiraling back, making me pace the bedroom in hurried strides. “What did you say to him, Logan? Did you brainwash him or something? How are you guys family? You don’t even know each other!” Strangled laughter sounds from Logan’s direction. I spin around and level a dark glower at him. “He’s talking about the joint family we created in Mob Boss. It’s this role-playing game where you’re the Don of a mob family and you’re fighting a bunch of other mafia bosses for territory and rackets and stuff. We played it when I went over there, and I ended up staying until four in the morning. Seriously, it was intense.” He shrugs. “We’re the Lorris crime syndicate.” I’m dumbfounded. Oh my God. Lorris? As in Logan and Morris? They fucking Brangelina’d themselves? “What is happening?” I burst out. “You guys are best friends now?” “He’s a cool guy. Actually, he’s even cooler in my book now for stepping down like that. I didn’t ask him to, but clearly he grasps what you refuse to see.” “Yeah, and what’s that?” I mutter. “That you and I are perfect for each other.” No words. There are no words to accurately convey what I’m feeling right now. Horror maybe? Absolute insanity? I mean, it’s not like I’m madly in love with Morris or anything, but if I’d known that kissing Logan at the party would lead to…this, I would have strapped on a frickin’ chastity gag.

I raised an eyebrow, a boyish grin on my lips, and started walking toward her without breaking my gaze. “You are beautiful and smart,” I said. “Breathtaking, hot, intelligent, sexy, whatever you want to call it, baby. And no one is taking you away from me.” With that last sentence, I stopped in front of her, my body heat enveloping her. “A little mouthy here and there,” I paused briefly, then continued, “but that can be fixed.

Если кому-то еще не расхотелось узнать, что такое любовь, то я сейчас скажу. Любовь — это мафиозный сговор: двое против всех. Такая маленькая сдвоенная крепость, кровосмесительный заговор двух тел и душ против остального мира. Почти все другие варианты любовных отношений — только попытки имитации, суррогатные альянсы, в которые вступают, чтобы спастись от одиночества, утолить похоть, корысть или какую-нибудь практическую нужду. Ну, или потому, что “так принято” среди людей.

It rarely snows because Antarctica is a desert. An iceberg means it’s tens of millions of years old and has calved from a glacier. (This is why you must love life: one day you’re offering up your social security number to the Russia Mafia; two weeks later you’re using the word calve as a verb.) I saw hundreds of them, cathedrals of ice, rubbed like salt licks; shipwrecks, polished from wear like marble steps at the Vatican; Lincoln Centers capsized and pockmarked; airplane hangars carved by Louise Nevelson; thirty-story buildings, impossibly arched like out of a world’s fair; white, yes, but blue, too, every blue on the color wheel, deep like a navy blazer, incandescent like a neon sign, royal like a Frenchman’s shirt, powder like Peter Rabbit’s cloth coat, these icy monsters roaming the forbidding black.

Last night, Bree had been taken. Thoroughly, utterly taken. Gently or roughly, it didn’t matter. This man had reached into the darkest part of her mind, had brought out and laid bare the desires she admitted to no one but herself in her most secret, quiet moments. Her hunger had been allowed to run free. There’d been no guilt, no remorse. Nothing was ‘wrong’. And God, the feeling of freedom was damned addictive. What did that say about her? How could she love Michael, yet give a part of her she’d never felt comfortable sharing with Michael to this stranger.

For the first time the Don showed annoyance. He poured another glass of anisette and drank it down. He pointed a finger at his son. "You want to learn," he said. "Now listen to me. A man's first duty is to keep himself alive. Then comes what everyone else calls honor. This dishonor, as you call it, I willingly take upon myself. I did it to save your life as you once took on dishonor to save mine. You would have never left Sicily alive without Don Croce's protection. So be it. Do you want to be a hero like Guiliano, a legend? And dead? I love him as the son of my dear friends, but I do not envy him his fame. You are alive and he is dead. Always remember that and live your life not be be a hero but to remain alive. With time, heroes seem a little foolish." Michael sighed. "Guiliano had no choice," he said. "We are more fortunate," the Don said. It was the first lesson Michael received from his father and the one he learned best. It was to color his future life, persuade him to make terrible decisions he could never have dreamed of making before. It changed his perception of honor and heroism. It helped him survive, but it made him unhappy. For despite the fact that his father did not envy Guiliano, Michael did.

Bree shot to her feet and glared at him. “Look all you want, Brianna. That was the deal, remember? Until Arturo is found, I’m not leaving you alone.” Alessandro stared down at her with immovable stubbornness. “How am I gonna explain you to my grandfather? And what if the rest of my family is there?” “Hello O’Reiley family, you remember Alessandro, the father of my child, the man that I love, the light of my life, ma raison d'être…” “Are you done?” Bree asked cocking an eyebrow. “Depends, are you quite ready to go? Look, you can explain that I’m there for answers too. My father’s involvement in this vendetta directly influences my own future and that of my child.

He took a step back and stared down at her, and she watched the cold mask slowly slip back over his face. “So…that’s it? You just decide I’m not good enough to be with and-“ “Oh, Alessandro no! You know that’s not-“ “Well, let me tell you something, if you think you’re going to keep me away from my baby-“ “No,” Bree promised. “You can see him anytime you want…at my apartment.” He laughed bitterly and sniffled. “You know something ironic, Brianna? You’re probably the only woman who could have turned me into that man that you deem worthy of your love,” Alessandro walked towards the door and opened it. “Daddy?” a small voice called out. Both Alessandro and Bree turned to Will wearing identically stunned expressions. “Can you stay wif me ‘till I go sleep ‘gain?” Alessandro choked on a sob and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Bree rubbed her belly. Figured; Alessandro wasn’t one to live in quiet but strained tension. She stared up at the fabric of the canopy and then squeezed her eyes shut. “Alessandro, considering that the outside world has the sterile hospital rooms, not to mention the epidurals, yeah. For goodness sake, Alessandro. You know we can’t stay here forever. I’m entering my eighth month here.” “I must say, I’m surprised you’re so anxious to leave.” “Why?” Bree asked, turning to look at his strong profile. “You know why, Brianna. As soon as we walk out that door, you and I are over.” Bree felt a guilty tightening in her chest. “Perhaps that’s what you want, though.” “That’s not fair,” Bree whispered even as she feared he was right. No. He’s wrong. I love him. She wasn’t going to let anyone shake what she and Alessandro had built here. She’d let her family know that she wanted Alessandro in her life and that she wanted to be a family with him. “Thanks for your confidence in me, though. Really.

What I want you to understand is that when I heard your words, it was as if every single second we had spent together up to that point was a lie. Every word, every touch, every kiss. You were looking at me, but you wanted him. I was this…thing to be endured to keep your family safe. You would allow me to touch you, to make love to you all the while wishing for Colin. I thought all that passion we had between us was a complete figment of my imagination and it was a bitter pill to swallow. I hated you. Worse than I’d ever hated anyone in my life. I was determined to make you pay. I’d keep you shackled to me forever as punishment. Keep you away from your true love.” Bree stared at him, unable to fathom such cruelty. Who was this man she loved that was capable of such a thing? “And then?” He took a deep shaky breath and leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “Then I spent all my energy trying to prove to myself by looking at you that you were lying to me, to justify what I was doing by picking up little gestures or flickers in your eyes that would prove to me that you felt nothing for me.” Bree rolled her eyes and gave a tearful snort. “And did you, after how hard I fought for you, did you get what you wanted? Did you prove to yourself what a lying bitch I am?” “No. Of course not. So I started to doubt what I heard.” “After living with Bernardo for all your life it had just occurred to you that he just may have tampered with the fucking thing?” Bree bit out, furiously.

I was the boy who killed his first man at eleven. I was the teenager who crushed his cousin’s throat at seventeen. I was the man who bathed in his enemies’ blood without a flicker of remorse, who relished in their screams as if it was a fucking Mozart sonata. Monsters are created, not born. Bullshit. I was born a monster. Cruelty ran in my veins like poison. It ran in the veins of every Vitiello man, passed on from father to son, an endless spiral of monstrosity. I was a born monster shaped into an even worse monster by my father’s blade and fists and harsh words. I was raised to become Capo, to rule without mercy, to dish out brutality without a second thought. I was raised to break others. When Aria was given to me in marriage, everyone waited with baited breath to see how fast I’d break her like my father broke his women. How I’d crush her innocence and kindness with the force of my cruelty, with relentless brutality. Breaking her would have taken little effort. It came naturally to me. A man born a monster, raised to be a monster, bound to be a monster to become Capo. I was gladly the monster everyone feared. Until her. Until Aria. With her, I didn’t have to cover up my darkness. Her light shone brighter than my darkness ever could. With her, I didn’t want to be the monster. I wanted to shield her from that part of my nature. But I was born a monster. Raised to break others. Not breaking her would come with a price. A price a monster like myself shouldn’t risk paying.

That girl didn’t have a moment’s peace from the day Adriano Dardano set foot in Galway and started chasing her.” Sister Brannigan said, as she led them around the convent garden. “Nice of Francesca to stay still for him to catch her then wasn’t it?” Alessandro remarked dryly. “Mmph,” the nun responded. “My grandfather loved Francesca,” Alessandro insisted. “Far be it from me to speak ill of the dead. But let’s call a spade a spade, hmm? Your grandfather was a charmer. Now perhaps he didn’t realize just how naïve our Francesca was and how besotted with him she was.” “Mmm, very generous of you,” Alessandro grumbled. “I will say that on the times he brought some food he had made with Francesca up to the convent, it was clear he had a wonderful talent in the kitchen. Now mind ye, the Italian food was a bit rich for my taste but still, rather good.” “I’m sure my grandfather’s resting easier in his grave now that the holy sister has complimented his cooking,” Alessandro whispered in Bree’s ear making, her laugh out loud and Sister Brannigan turn to her in question.

I’m insatiable? I am?” Alessandro asked cocking an eyebrow as he ran his warm hands along the satin material covering her body. “Alessandro. You’re alive. I can touch you, look into your eyes and hear your arrogant English voice. We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together, that’s plenty romantic for me.” Bree pressed her mouth against him. He tasted of coffee and peppermint. He nibbled slightly on her lower lip before pulling away. “Darling, that sounds lovely, but my wedding night fantasy was more along the lines of fucking you into the mattress.” Bree smacked his shoulder. “Patience, Dardano. Tonight we take things slow, the mattress fucking will come in time. Now, get on your back and let me put my hands on you and assure myself that you’re real.” Alessandro sighed but did as she ordered. “Now if you feel anything-” “I certainly hope so or we have a very big problem,” Alessandro joked. She smacked his chest. “If you feel any pain you let me know and we’ll stop.” “Says the woman who’s smacked me twice in the past five minutes,” Alessandro said, but his eyes were shining with amusement.

Well, no, Sister Brannigan was the one putting her name on the checks to the cemetery. Someone else was making the deposits into her personal account.” “But now that she’s gone?” “I suppose the Neapolitan benefactor will have to find someone else if he wants to remain anonymous.” Bree snorted, “For a second I thought maybe it might be Bernardo.” “Well, why not? I mean, a little bank fraud isn’t likely to keep my father up at night,” Alessandro said. “But he’s in New York,” Bree reminded him. “Geography, darling?” Alessandro asked amused. “You say that with such pride it scares me,” Bree said rolling her eyes. “I love you too,” Alessandro smiled. “But no. If he was, why let us go off on this whole journey?” “It’s Bernardo. If there’s something I’ve learned about your father it’s that the rules of logic don’t apply to him. Or any other kind of rules,” Bree added, “Maybe this is all some kind of big elaborate plan and we’re gonna go home and find out he’s been keeping Francesca and Adriano frozen in his basement in one of those sci-fi freezers that they say you can buy and use to come back to life in a hundred years.” Alessandro shook his head at her, not impressed with her sense of humour.

As I finished my rice, I sketched out the plot of a pornographic adventure film called The Massage Room. Sirien, a young girl from northern Thailand, falls hopelessly in love with Bob, an American student who winds up in the massage parlor by accident, dragged there by his buddies after a fatefully boozy evening. Bob doesn't touch her, he's happy just to look at her with his lovely, pale-blue eyes and tell her about his hometown - in North Carolina, or somewhere like that. They see each other several more times, whenever Sirien isn't working, but, sadly, Bob must leave to finish his senior year at Yale. Ellipsis. Sirien waits expectantly while continuing to satisfy the needs of her numerous clients. Though pure at heart, she fervently jerks off and sucks paunchy, mustached Frenchmen (supporting role for Gerard Jugnot), corpulent, bald Germans (supporting role for some German actor). Finally, Bob returns and tries to free her from her hell - but the Chinese mafia doesn't see things in quite the same light. Bob persuades the American ambassador and the president of some humanitarian organization opposed to the exploitation of young girls to intervene (supporting role for Jane Fonda). What with the Chinese mafia (hint at the Triads) and the collusion of Thai generals (political angle, appeal to democratic values), there would be a lot of fight scenes and chase sequences through the streets of Bangkok. At the end of the day, Bob carries her off. But in the penultimate scene, Sirien gives, for the first time, an honest account of the extent of her sexual experience. All the cocks she has sucked as a humble massage parlor employee, she has sucked in the anticipation, in the hope of sucking Bob's cock, into which all the others were subsumed - well, I'd have to work on the dialogue. Cross fade between the two rivers (the Chao Phraya, the Delaware). Closing credits. For the European market, I already had line in mind, along the lines of "If you liked The Music Room, you'll love The Massage Room.