Daring Delfina's Heart

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“Order up!”

Delfina grabbed the plates on the metal warming shelf and layered them along her forearm and then turned to take the food to the group of people waiting at the table. It was a busy morning, and she was grateful of the pace.

Setting the plates in front of her customers, she smiled, “is there anything else I can get for you?”

“No ma’am, this looks wonderful.” One of the three truckers beamed at her.

The one sitting in the booth across his two friends looked her over, “unless you want to give me your number. My truck has a cot.”

“As tempting as the offer is,” she continued smiling despite the revulsion curling down her spine because she could smell the man as much as she could see him, “my partner is not the sharing kind.” She gave a nod and walked away cursing once again how close the family restaurant was to the truck stop up the road.

She lied through her teeth to get away from the men. She had no partner. The man she’d lived with for the last three years suffered a massive heart attack just over six weeks ago and she’d run from the scene like her life depended on it. She’d accompanied Ercole to the hospital in the ambulance praying to God with all her might he didn’t wake up. She’d been praying for his death from the minute she’d met the man and she’d been granted a front row seat to it. She wasn’t sure whether it was the god or the devil she’d prayed to who made her dreams come true, but she owed one of them her soul for it.

When they arrived at the hospital, the paramedics were screaming at doctors to save the notorious Italian billionaire rumored to have ties to the mob out of nothing more than fear his family would sue the hospital if he died. She stood nervously rubbing her biceps with her hands trying desperately to not let her giddiness show as they worked valiantly on saving him. Her face hidden behind a handful of tissues to stop her smile and fake sobs covered the giggles.

His time of death being called coincided with the time Olympia Rapallino, accompanied by her husband and children, descended on the hospital. The woman hated Delfina from the minute they’d been introduced three years ago, and she knew in her shoes, she would have hated Delfina too. Ercole did everything he could to needle his only child by flaunting his much younger bride in her face. When Olympia told her to get the f**k out of the hospital room, she’d joyfully obeyed despite knowing the man who was now dead would have been furious at Olympia’s treatment of her. Only Ercole was allowed to demean and insult Delfina, not anyone else.

Delfina knew something else Olympia didn’t, and it was how much the old man barely tolerated his only child. Ercole hated Olympia’s mother, his first wife. Delfina knew his first wife Claudia baby-trapped him. The fact she couldn’t even have been a boy, made the irritation at the unwanted baby increase and Ercole never truly accepted the child.

His hate of the women in his life then carried over to every woman he’d ever met. While he didn’t loathe her the way he did others, his dislike of the female population included Delfina. Ercole took great pleasure in humiliating her at every turn. If he could humiliate her and Olympia simultaneously, then it only fueled his excitement. She loathed the events and parties where he could traipse her around on his arm because it meant she was forced to endure his excitement at feeling like the world’s greatest asshole. He reveled in it. The cruelty he gave his family, he doled out to her in equal measures.

Pushing the horrible thoughts of the horrible man aside, she pushed into the kitchen. She gave a smile to her mother who was busy mashing another pot of potatoes. She leaned over and kissed her cheek, “you look flushed, Mom. You should take a break.”

“It’s too busy.”

“We should hire another cook.”

“We cannot afford to hire another cook,” her mother wiped her brow with her forearm. “The dinner rush will wind down shortly.”

Delfina looked at her mother and sighed knowing arguing with her would be futile. She started to walk away when her mother grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you, Dellie. I feel bad you are here working in the diner when you should be out living your life in a real kitchen.”

“Mom, for the last three years all I’ve wanted was to come home and work alongside you. I missed coming in early in the morning and making the desserts for the day. This is home to me and it’s all I wanted.”

“I’m sorry,” Tiziana Poletti whispered softly staring into her daughter’s eyes.

Delfina cupped her mother’s cheeks, tucking hair behind the older woman’s ears. “I love you. I would live a million years with Ercole Muraro if it meant keeping you and Papa safe.” She kissed her forehead, “now, get those potatoes up to snuff.” She patted the shoulder of the only other cook in the kitchen, her cousin Caprice, who was busy forming meatloaves in a bunch of pans.

Caprice and her brother Nek were sent to live with their aunt and uncle from Italy when they were mere teenagers. Initially Delfina was excited to have the older cousins living with them until Caprice turned out to think Delfina was her servant and Nek was chaos on legs.

It was Caprice’s older brother who caused the insanity three years ago with Ercole and brought the bastard into her life.

Ercole Muraro, was a very rich thug. He wasn’t very tall, barely five feet ten inches tall. He wasn’t even remotely handsome despite his very toned and strong physique. The man was also bloody brilliant, always ten steps ahead of the rest of the crowd.

Frequently, she’d been forced to sit in a meeting with Ercole, on his lap, with someone who’d owed him a great deal of money. He’d frequently been able to not only calculate how long it would take to pay off the amount but to calculate the interest, accrued and he did it to the penny without a calculator. His intelligence was second to none. Well except the CEO but he was a whole other kettle of fish.

Ercole’s brilliance however was often shuttered by his cruelty and greed. Her naivety did not prepare her for the horrors she was about to endure when she’d taken Nek’s punishment.

If she balked about performing her conjugal duties, he would bring up the CCTV stream from the kitchen of her parent’s diner and point his fingers like a gunshot to her father’s head.

Her humiliation though at having to perform in their marital bed came with a price. Ercole was a gifted lover with an insight into the female anatomy and he wouldn’t be content unless he eked out multiple orgasms before his own. He took delight in knowing she loathed him with a burning passion yet the minute his lips were on her, she was helpless to stop her own body from responding.

Her parents never stopped trying to offer money to get her to come home but Ercole always refused. If she left Ercole, Nek and her father would die. She’d seen Ercole kill a man without blinking, the same one he’d calculated the loan interest on, and as such, she knew he meant what he said.

So, every night she would pray to God while clutching her rosary her family and then follow with prayers to the devil in exchange for her soul. If only she would escape the clutches of this abhorrent human being and the self-loathing, she experienced at his hands she would do anything.

She discovered thanks to Ercole she was a highly s****l woman, but he left her too exhausted to even consider doing anything for her own emotional pleasure. She once told him when he died, she was going to f**k a hundred different men to prove he wasn’t the only one who give her orgasms. He’d f****d her unconscious that night. She screamed at him she wished he would croak from the exertion, but he’d only made her come more. She hated him. Her body loved his c**k.

Then after three long, painful years, he’d died. His staff called the paramedics while she stood there watching while joy flooded her body.

She kept in a secure location a copy of the marriage contract which clearly stated upon his death, all debts of her family were considered paid. She was free and clear to live her life without any liability. The day after his death, her parents received a copy of the deed to the restaurant with no mortgage outstanding on it and a note from the lawyer confirming all debts were paid.

She was free.

She took a breath and walked back to the busy diner. If she never heard the name Ercole Muraro again, it would be too soon. However, there was one thing missing from her life right now and it was an orgasm. Looking around the diner her religious parents owned, somehow, she knew she wasn’t getting it here.