No reply. So strange. Altogether, it wasn’t necessarily threatening, so I ordered myself not to freak out. There were an infinite number of possible explanations for the message. Hell, it could be an old high school classmate screwing with me. There was no telling.
I shoved my phone back in my pocket, took in a deep cleansing breath, and forced myself toward the dining room and another tense family dinner.
***
“Do you think it’s my fault I have a shit relationship with my mom?” I asked Alessia the next day at one of our weekly lunches. I’d been thinking about what Val said and decided I’d get my cousin’s opinion. She may not have known my darkest secret, but she knew me better than anyone else.
“I’m not sure any one person is at fault. You two are just very different.”
“Yeah, but you and I are different and that doesn’t stop us from being friends.”
“True, but a mother-daughter relationship is much more complicated. Did you two have a fight or something?”
“I was over last night for dinner, and Val accused me of getting off on arguing with Mom. I thought she was being absurd, but the more I examined her claim, the more I wondered why I didn’t just give in to Mom a little more. It wouldn’t necessarily kill me to bite my tongue.” I pushed around the food on my plate until I noticed Alessia had gone silent. When I looked up, I found my cousin gaping at me.
“That’s it.” She tossed down her fork. “I’m taking you to a doctor. You’re clearly delirious.”
I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. “Ha-ha. So you do think it’s my fault, don’t you?”
“No, don’t put words in my mouth. I know Aunt Mia isn’t exactly nurturing, but I also know you don’t make the situation any easier.”
“You think I should just bend over and take it when she points out all the ways I don’t measure up?”
“G, you brought this up. Don’t get defensive with me.” Al raised a brow, an unusual warning from my pacifist cousin.
Point taken.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I just don’t understand how else I should act around her.”
“Honestly, I think you’d see it all differently if you had something else in your life—a job or a passion. Something that brough you joy and occupied your mind so that her petty jabs wouldn’t seem so important. Not to say they wouldn’t hurt, but if you had other priorities, your relationship with her wouldn’t weigh so heavily. I know you say you’re good with filling your days going to spas and shopping, but I disagree. You need more.”
My first reaction was to be defensive, but I tamped that down and thought about what she was saying. It was good in theory, but the application was far more complicated. “How am I supposed to figure out what I’m passionate about? I’ve never found anything that captures my interest the way you love working at Triton or the way Sofia loves art. Maybe I don’t have any passions.” I slumped back in my chair, losing my appetite.
I was lucky enough to have a trust fund that floated my bills and kept me living a life of luxury, but there was truth in what Al had said. I talked a big game about loving my freedom and preferring to go to nail appointments rather than a day job. It wasn’t as fulfilling as I would have liked. I needed something more in my life, but I had no clue what would fill that void.
“I think the only way you can figure it out is to try things. Maybe look into some different volunteer opportunities. There are all kinds of classes out there for every hobby under the sun. Try a few and see what captures your interest.”
I sighed heavily. The task sounded daunting, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that no amount of crocheting or serving breakfast at a soup kitchen would make me happy. I needed something more. Something edgy. Something Alessia would never understand.
Hell, I wasn’t sure I understood it.
“Alright, I’ll see what I can do, but no more talk about my mess of a life. Tell me what’s new with you. Have you set a date for the wedding yet?”
A beaming smile lit her face. “Not exactly. We’re thinking September to give plenty of time to plan, but we haven’t nailed down a specific date.”
“You going to strongarm Aunt Lottie into letting you be involved in the planning?” Alessia’s mom lived for planning events.
Fuck, even she has a passion.
I was going to have to work on that.
“I’m absolutely going to help her plan. No more pushover Alessia. I get one shot at a wedding, and I want to make sure it’s exactly the way Luca and I want.”
“Good for you! My sweet little cousin has grown so much in the past year.”
Al smiled mischievously. “Guess who’s turn it is now?”
I shook my head. “We’ll see. That doesn’t mean I’m giving up on fun, so I’ll still be me. And on that note, I think we should go out this weekend for a drink.”
“It’s supposed to snow tomorrow,” she balked.
“Okay, then we go out Saturday.” I smiled, unfazed. “We can ask the other girls and see if anyone wants to join.”
“Fine, but only if the roads aren’t bad. I’m not busting my ass for a girls’ night.”
“Please, it’s only November. How bad could it be?”
***
Eighteen inches of snow fell in the city that Friday night. All of Manhattan shut down, but street crews had the roads cleared by the next morning, and the rising temperatures had worked magic on the icy sidewalks. By Saturday evening, New York City was back in full swing.
We recruited Sofia and Camilla to round out our trip to the Lotus Club, the hottest new bar overlooking the river. Apparently, we weren’t the only ones who needed a night out. After the winter storm had everyone stuck at home the night before, club goers were out in droves.
Aside from a packed nightclub, the weather had also affected our wardrobe—no slinky dresses or strappy heels. Instead, I was rocking skinny jeans, leather booties, and a sweater draped off one shoulder. I felt hella cute and ready to get my dance on.
“Let’s get a drink first, then hit the dance floor,” I called to the girls over the blaring music.
They all nodded, and we squeezed through the crowd to the bar where two overworked bartenders raced to keep up with the demand. Ten minutes later, we toasted to a night with the girls, and I reveled in the feel of the cool vodka martini warming my stomach.
“You guys have to save me if some guy tries to dance with me,” Alessia ordered. “I know it’s not technically cheating, but it feels wrong.”
“I totally understand,” said Sofia. “Hopefully, if we all dance together, we’ll be left alone.”
I scoffed. “Speak for yourselves! I’d like nothing more than for some hottie to join us on the dance floor. Now drink up and let’s get out there.”
Al shook her head but downed the rest of her drink. We danced with one another, gyrating with the pulsing beat of the music and laughing hysterically when one of us tried a silly dance move. Soon, we attracted the attention of several men, one who was bold enough to insert himself into our small circle.
He wasn’t bad-looking and was a decent dancer, so I moved forward and draped my arms over his shoulders. His warm hands clasped around my waist, and he pulled me close, wearing a devilish smile on his lips. I relaxed in his grip, allowing him to lead our movements.
When the song transitioned to a slower beat, he leaned in close to my ear to tell me his name, but his words never registered. I was too distracted by what I saw over his shoulder across the room.
A man stood perfectly still on a small set of stairs, looming above the crowd. He wore a dark suit without a tie, and his hungry gaze bore down on me, a hunter locked on his prey. The strobing laser lights and distance between us made it hard to see, but my gut flipped and twisted with instant recognition.
The man from the casino. It was him. Or at least, I thought it was.
Before I could be certain, my dance partner pulled back and blocked my view. I lifted onto my tiptoes and strained to see
around him, but the other man was gone without a trace.
“You okay?” my dance partner asked with confusion etched in his features.
“I’m fine,” I replied distractedly. “Just thought I saw someone I know.” I scanned the room, trying to figure out if I’d actually seen the man or if I’d just imagined it. Could it have been him? What were the chances?
Did you think I wouldn’t find you? The cryptic words from my text days before flashed in my mind.
Holy shit.
It couldn’t be. I was imagining things after getting that text—letting my imagination run wild. No man would track down a woman across the country just because she’d stolen a simple cigarette lighter.
There wasn’t even an engraving on it!
No. It was impossible. My mind was playing tricks on me, and that was the only plausible explanation.
Chapter 4
Primo
I wasn’t sure what I had expected when I followed Giada into the club. A confrontation involving tears and a hurried apology? Perhaps smug satisfaction to see an otherwise confident woman tremble with the realization that her actions had consequences. What I did not anticipate was the white-hot anger that engulfed me at seeing her dancing with another man.
She was a petty thief. It shouldn’t have bothered me if she was renting herself out by the hour, let alone dancing fully clothed in public. When she walked into the club, I’d known she’d likely dance, although I’d assumed she’d stick with the girls in her group. I sat back arrogantly in the shadows, watching her and relishing her ignorance—a cat toying with his mouse before going in for the kill—until she led her small group onto the dance floor.
Every muscle in my body tensed, rigid and coiled for action. The song blasting over the speakers didn’t even finish before a man weaseled his way beside her. That was hard enough to take, but when she reached for his shoulders and allowed him to press their bodies together, fiery rage had me on my feet.
The only thing that kept me from storming across the room and slamming my fist into the man’s face was Giada’s unguarded reaction when she saw me. She was shocked, as if the world around her ceased to exist the moment our eyes met.
More than that.
She looked as though she were adrift in the ocean, and I was her one chance of survival. Not just longing. Desperation.
Her unexpected response instantly soothed the fires that had my blood boiling. Needing a minute to regroup, I slipped away, staying just out of her sight. She searched the crowded room for me in vain, unable to locate me, but I never took my eyes off her.
She was fucking gorgeous, lips slightly parted and hair tousled. She may not have been wearing a revealing dress, but she was every bit as tempting as she’d been in the casino. I had told myself I wouldn’t find her so attractive after knowing she’d stolen from me, even deluded myself into believing she hadn’t actually been as beautiful as I’d thought, but it was all lies. She was just as striking as I had remembered and observing her daily life after I tracked her down only added to her intrigue. Rarely did any woman capture my interest.
Yet I couldn’t get this one out of my head.
She was fucking up everything.
I shouldn’t have been in the club. I had orders, and Naz would be pissed when he learned I’d ignored them. He was stubborn and unbending. I had convinced myself that a small deviation in our plans wouldn’t change anything. Once I was back in Mexico, he’d get over my brief detour, and I’d have dealt with the little viper poisoning my bloodstream. It would work out best for everyone in the end. Well … maybe not everyone. Giada would have to accept her consequences whether she liked them or not.
I wasn’t even sure what kind of punishment I’d intended to dole out, but fear was a central component. I wanted her to regret messing with me. Regret her siren-like allure that ensnared men. Made them set aside their responsibilities and challenged their loyalties. I wanted her to regret approaching me the same way I did because I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since.
Once I saw the fear in her eyes and she cowered away from me, the spell would be broken, and I could go on with my life.
Feeling far more in control and determined, I made my way down a hallway toward the restrooms and constructed a plan. The door across from the women’s room was locked but easily opened with a tool I kept in my wallet for just such an occasion. Inside was a storage room that would be perfect for my needs.
Once the trap was set, I found a place to wait where I could keep an eye on Giada. When she made her way to the restroom a half hour later, I followed her and stationed myself beside the door. My fingers twitched with the need to touch her. The second she exited the restroom, I wrapped my hand over her mouth and shoved her into the storage room.
She was momentarily too shocked to struggle, fumbling to stay upright and gasping against the palm of my hand. My veins surged with adrenaline. I’d been waiting for this moment for two weeks, tracking Giada down and biding my time for the right moment to strike. Now, I had her in my arms and at my mercy.
The rush of power was intoxicating.
Exhilarating.
Addicting.
The storage room light was set to a motion detector, so harsh fluorescent light flooded the space when the door flung open, making it hard to see since my eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting of the club. The far wall was lined with shelves containing supplies, and mops in buckets along with brooms and vacuums filled the center of the cramped room. That was fine with me. All I needed was a small space away from prying eyes.
As soon as we were inside the room, I slammed the door shut and spun Giada around. Pressing her back against the wall beside the door, I instantly replaced my hand over her mouth. The club was loud, but she could easily be heard by people in the hallway if she screamed.
The second our eyes met, shock and fear melted into recognition and … indignation? Her wide eyes narrowed to harsh slits of emerald rage, and she ceased struggling, her back stiffening and muscles tensing.
Who was this fucking audacious woman?
She had stolen from me, yet she had the gall to glare at me as if I were in the wrong. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to knock her down from her high horse or worship at her majestic feet. Just like before, she stirred an inferno of conflicting emotions inside me.
I held her gaze, steady and unyielding. She was brave, I would give her that, but too much courage could be foolhardy. Sometimes it was good to know when to yield. The more she stood against me, the more my primal side wanted to conquer her.
“Somebody’s been a very naughty girl,” I purred, breathing in her sharp citrus scent. “Did you think you were making a statement by stealing from me? Surely you could tell I’m not a man to toy with, which means you must be very self-assured. If I had to guess, I’d say this wasn’t your first foray into stealing from people, but I’d be willing to bet I’m the first who’s caught you. The first to confront you with your crimes.”
Her eyes flashed and nostrils flared just slightly, giving me my answer.
The corners of my lips lifted into the hint of a caustic smile. “This time, you got a little too brazen. A little too cocky. The problem with stealing from someone you don’t know is you could get yourself in terrible trouble. I’m not a man people disrespect.”
When Giada lifted her chin defiantly as if she had something to say, I was shamefully eager to hear what that might be. With a warning in my eyes, I slowly lowered my hand away from her mouth.
“It was a silly lighter. If it means so much to you, I can give it back.”
“This has nothing to do with the lighter. I told you, it’s about respect.” And a fucking insatiable lust, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. If she knew how hard I was for her, it would give her power over me, and that wasn’t an option.
“So, you’re going to teach me a lesson for taking a five-dollar trinket? This is ridiculous.” She spat her words at me in feigned ferocity, but a treacherous quiver to her vo
ice betrayed her underlying fear.
“I’ve killed men for less.”
Her jaw snapped shut, eyes flaring. “My father is the consigliere to Enzo Genovese, the boss of the Lucciano crime family. Do you have any idea what that means? You fuck with me, and you fuck with the Italian mafia.” She pressed her lips together in a thin, satisfied smile as if she’d played the ultimate trump card.
Slowly, I lifted my hand and trailed the backs of my fingers from her temple, curving over the soft line of her cheekbone, down to her strong yet feminine jaw, then ghosted over the delicate skin of her neck where I gently placed my hand around her throat. “Of all the men in this club, I am probably the only one who doesn’t give a fuck who your father is.”
What I didn’t tell her was that I already knew. The identity of her family had only added to her mystery. Why would someone with money feel the need to steal trinkets from strangers? Did being raised in a world of crime skew her view on reality, or was it more about the thrill? Did Giada Genovese simply have a craving for a darker, more dangerous side of life?
“Then you’re fucking crazy,” she hissed.
“I’ve been called worse.”
Giada flailed, making a weak attempt at struggling against me for the first time since entering the storage room. Her face was still rigid with contempt, but her body was giving in to the fear. “My sister and cousins are here with me. They’ll start looking for me if they haven’t already.”
“You know what I think?” I asked in a low rumble with my mouth close to her ear.
Her movements stilled until the only motion in the room was the rhythmic vibrations from the music.
“I think you don’t want anyone to find us. I think you take things hoping one day, someone just like me will track you down and make you answer for your crimes.”
Her breathing shuddered in the abnormal stillness of our isolated bubble buried deep within the chaotic nightclub. The pounding bass penetrating through the walls pulsed at the same frantic rate as her rioting heart. The contrast between the frenetic energy outside and our cocoon of strained silence magnified the senses. It made time stutter on its continuum as if the universe itself knew the poignancy of this moment. A tilting of the Earth’s axis until nothing made sense.
Impossible Odds: A Mafia Romance (The Five Families Book 4) Page 3