by Cora Reilly
Leo seemed surprised when he spotted me. “I didn’t expect you yet. Raffaele and the girls aren’t here yet. There’s not much to do right now.”
I headed straight toward the back where the offices were located. “I know, but I want to read up on our high rollers. I assume you have documents and statistics about them?”
Leo’s eyes darted between me and Enzo, who had his arms crossed over his barrel chest, looking like he was waiting for a chance to crush Leo’s head. No love seemed to be lost between them. “Yes, we do. Let me get them for you.”
I settled in the plush chair behind my desk, feeling out of place, but when Leo returned with folders full of papers, I held my head high and gestured at him to put them on my desk. “I’ll read them. Please let me know when Raffaele and the girls arrive so I can talk to them.”
Leo nodded and left without another word. Enzo hesitated, then he too walked out and closed the door behind him. I slumped in the chair, and let my eyes take in my windowless office. I grabbed the first folder, determined to learn everything I needed to know to do a good job. I didn’t want to disappoint Dante. I knew he was risking the wrath of many Made Men by letting a woman work this job.
* * *
My eyes were burning from the dry air-conditioned air, and I’d only gotten through two folders, when a knock sounded at my door. “Come in,” I called hoarsely. I cleared my throat as the door opened and Enzo poked his head in. “Raffaele is here. Should I let him in?”
I stifled a smile. Was Enzo now acting as my secretary? “Yes, thank you.”
Enzo held the door wide open. Raffaele strode in with a scathing look in Enzo’s direction, who returned it with the same fervor. He closed the door and stood in front of it, arms crossed and hard eyes on Raffaele. “Can’t you talk to me without your watchdog?” he asked with a nasty smile.
I straightened. With my high heels I was as tall as him and immediately felt more at ease. “I could, but I won’t,” I said, making it sound as if it was actually my decision, and not Dante’s order.
Raffaele seemed taken aback, but he recovered quickly. “You wanted to talk to the whores. They are getting ready in their dressing room.”
“Good. Lead the way.”
Raffaele walked out without a word and headed toward one of the doors leading away from the main floor. Enzo was close behind us. Raffaele didn’t bother knocking, he just ripped open the door. A few of the girls let out surprised gasps, but when they saw who it was they quieted. Apparently they were used to that kind of behavior from him. Raffaele made a mock sweeping gesture, inviting me inside the dressing room. “Careful,” Enzo hissed, bringing his face very close to Raffaele’s. “Or do you want to lose another finger? Dante won’t let you stitch it back on.”
Raffaele turned red but he didn’t dare give a nasty retort, though it was obvious from his expression that he wanted to.
I took a step into the dressing room, then stopped. “Is it okay if I talk to you for a moment?” I asked the gathered girls. There were ten of them, varying in age from their late teens—that’s what I hoped, at least—to their late twenties. Some of them catered to the girl-next-door, cheerleader taste, while others were more exotic. Almost all of them were sporting silicon breasts. Their expressions ranged from suspicious to worried to outright scared. As if choreographed, their gazes sought Raffaele, silently looking for his permission. I could tell by the self-satisfied grin and the way he seemed to get bigger how much he enjoyed it.
“I want to have a word alone with the girls,” I told him firmly.
“But—”
“No but,” I said at the same time as Enzo gripped Raffaele by the collar and shoved him outside, then followed after him and closed the door so I was alone with the girls. I turned my full attention to the women, who’d all stopped what they were doing and were watching me. “Maybe you can introduce yourself. Name, age, how long you’ve been working for the Outfit.”
I pointed at a petite Asian girl in the corner when it became clear that none of them wanted to start. After that, they all seemed to relax and gave me their information without much prodding. To my relief, the youngest girl was already twenty, unless she was lying about her age.
“How are you being treated?”
Again silence.
“The Outfit treats us very well,” a girl named Amanda said.
“I want the truth. Does Raffaele treat you with respect?”
A few of the girls exchanged amused expressions, and finally one of them said. “We’re whores. Hardly anyone treats us with respect. Raffaele is no exception.”
“He’s not the worst.”
“That’s your opinion, not mine.”
“Oh shut up.”
I raised my arms and the girls fell silent. “Okay. Who’s worse than Raffaele?”
“A few of the customers are into beating us up. And Tommaso wants some nasty stuff too.” That didn’t come as a surprise. Bibi didn’t tell me everything, but the few things she’d shared with me about her sex life with Tommaso had made my stomach turn.
“I like it rough.”
“You like everything, but I don’t.”
“Oh get over yourself. They buy your body so they decide what to do with it.”
“You sound like Raffaele.”
“Okay, okay,” I said slowly. “What exactly is Raffaele doing?”
“He’s like our pimp. He tests us before he decides if we’re good enough to work here. And he makes sure we make the customers happy. And if we don’t, he punishes us.”
“I assume ‘tests’ mean he’s sleeping with you?”
“Fucking us however he likes is more like it.”
“And what exactly does he do to punish you?” I asked, but the bruises the girls had been about to cover up with makeup before I entered gave me a good idea.
“He slaps us, or fucks us really hard. Or he sends us to one of the whorehouses at the outskirts of town.”
“The johns there are the worst. They are drunk, and brutal, and fat.”
I took a deep breath. “Okay. Any good things you can tell me?”
“The money is great. I can buy nice clothes and rent an amazing apartment. That’s something I could never do without this job.”
Many girls nodded, and I tried to take comfort in it. They all had started working as prostitutes on their own free will, and they earned more money than most people with a college degree. I talked to them a bit more and asked them to tell me when a customer was too brutal. They promised to do it, but I wasn’t sure if they were only saying it to get me off their backs. I’d have to talk to Leo and Raffaele about the situation.
When I stepped out of the dressing room, Enzo was waiting for me. “Where’s Raffaele?”
Enzo nodded in the direction of the bar. “He’s gone off to sulk. That boy would have been removed from the Outfit a long time ago if it weren’t for his father. Useless fucker.” He shut his mouth. “I apologize for the crude language.”
“No need. I’ve heard worse.”
Surprise crossed his face. Happy that I was making progress with Dante’s men, I headed toward Raffaele. He was perched on one of the barstools, drinking what looked like a martini. “Isn’t it a bit early to start with the alcohol?”
Raffaele emptied his glass. “We’re the mob, not a convent.”
“I’d still appreciate it if everyone stayed lucid during work.”
“Maybe one glass is enough to get you drunk, but I know how to hold my liquor. I’m not a pampered woman.”
“Raffaele,” Dante’s voice sliced through the room like a knife. I whirled around as Dante walked toward us, his body brimming with angry energy. His cold eyes were focused on Raffaele, who quickly slipped off the barstool and stood, a flicker of nervousness replacing that self-satisfied arrogance. Enzo was grinning menacingly. I had a feeling he had kept Dante updated about the way things had been going so far.
Dante stopped right in front of Raffaele, fixing him with an expression
of stark brutality. “If I hear one more word of disrespect from your mouth, I’m going to chop you into tiny pieces and feed you to your father’s dogs. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Boss,” Raffaele said hastily. He turned to me. “I’m sorry if I offended you.” He sounded sincere, but there was something vengeful and bitter in his eyes.
Dante finally leveled his gaze on me. “I’d like to have a word with you.”
I fell into step beside him as we headed toward my office and stepped inside. Dante closed the door. Before he could say anything, I muttered, “Did Enzo call you?”
“Enzo didn’t have to call me. I’d intended on checking on you all along. I want to make sure your first day went well.”
I gave him a doubtful look.
“Why are you so surprised?”
“Because so far you didn’t strike me as the caring type of husband.”
Dante didn’t say anything, only watched me with that unnervingly cool gaze.
“I didn’t need you to defend me. I can handle myself,” I said when it became clear that he wouldn’t say anything.
Dante narrowed his eyes. “This is my territory. These are my men, and it’s my job to keep them in line. If they show disrespect toward you, it’s only a small step until they dare to disrespect me as well. I won’t allow it.”
“You made me look incapable of doing my job. Raffaele will think I’m weak because I need you to protect me.”
Dante came very close, engulfing me with his aftershave. “Valentina, the only reason why these men respect you is that you’re my wife. I know you don’t like it. I know you are strong, but you can’t exact dominance over these men like I do because you don’t have the same weapons as I do.”
“What weapons?”
“Cruelness, brutality, and the utter determination to kill anyone who disputes my claim to power.”
I held my breath. “What makes you think I wouldn’t kill someone if I had to? Maybe I’m capable of the same brutality as you.”
Dante smiled a joyless smile. “Maybe, but I doubt it.” He traced a finger down my throat. “Maybe you would have had the potential to survive in the Outfit, if you’d been brought up the same way boys are raised in our world. My father had me kill my first man on his orders when I was fourteen. A traitor that my father had tortured in front of me before I put a bullet in his head. After that, my father had one of his soldiers torture me to see how long I could stand the pain until I broke down and pleaded for him to stop. I lasted less than thirty minutes. The second time, I lasted almost two hours. The tenth time, my father had to stop the soldier or I would have died. I didn’t beg, not even to save my life. Be glad that you never got the chance to develop your cruelness, Valentina.”
I had to swallow twice before I could speak. “That’s barbaric. How can you not hate your father for what he did to you?”
Dante’s finger lingered on the swell of my breast. The fabric of my blouse might as well not have been there; it felt as if he was touching bare skin. “I hate him. But I respect him too. Fear, hatred and respect are the three most important feelings a Capo must instill in other people.”
“In your wife as well?”
Dante pulled away his hand. “Hatred and fear have no place in a marriage.” He stepped away from me and casually walked over to my desk, which was piled with the folders I intended to read. “I see you’re trying to familiarize yourself with our high rollers.”
I had trouble handling the sudden topic change. My mind was still reeling from the horrible things Dante had told me about his youth. No wonder he was so good at shutting himself off after the cruelty his father had subjected him to. I wondered how many of the scars marring his body were from those torture sessions, and how many the result of an enemy’s attack. “Yes. I want to memorize their faces, names and quirks.”
“I thought I should stay until the high rollers arrive and introduce you to them. That way it’ll appear more official. I had Leo send them invites for an early reception. You’ll have the chance to talk to them without the usual chaos of the casino, and they get the chance to gamble in private for a while.”
I was grateful to Dante for making sure things went smoothly for me. Of course, I realized at least part of it was because he liked things to be under his control. “Thank you.”
He inclined his head, then looked at me for a moment longer before he checked his watch. “Why don’t you prepare yourself some more? The first high rollers should arrive in one hour. I’ll talk to Leo and make sure everything is set up for the reception.”
When he tried to walk past me, I put my hand on his arm to stop him. Then I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek before I strode toward my desk and picked up a folder. After a moment, I heard the door open and close.
Fifteen minutes before the reception was supposed to start, I headed toward the main floor where a few tables with glasses and ice buckets filled with champagne bottles had been set up. There was also a small buffet of canapés. Dante made his way toward me the moment he saw me and his presence set me at ease.
Soon the first high rollers arrived. Most of them were at least in their fifties. Old, rich men with expensive designer suits, tans from too many hours spent on the golf course, and smiles that spoke of overconfidence. These men thought the world was theirs for the taking. And yet I didn’t miss the look of respect that crossed their eyes when they faced Dante. The way they shook his hand, you could tell they were trying to pay him deference. Dante always quickly turned their attention to me, introducing me as the new manager and his wife. The last part led to a wave of respectful compliments of my beauty. While I certainly didn’t mind being praised for my appearance, it wasn’t something that would help me keep the casino staff in check. I steered the conversation away from my looks and involved the men in small talk. Luckily they let me, only too eager to share their stories about tricking the IRS, their achievements on the golf course, or the selection in their wine cellars—and it was obvious they were used to women hanging on their every word.
I led them toward the roulette table, all smiles, and soon they began to throw away money with hardly a care, too busy bragging and impressing me. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Dante talking to Enzo before leaving the casino. I knew he was busy but I wished he’d stayed a little longer. I didn’t have much time for that thought, however; I had to be the perfect hostess for another group of high rollers eager to schmooze the wife of the Capo.
It was past midnight when things had progressed enough for me to take my leave. Several of the high rollers had disappeared into back rooms with girls, or were too immersed in gambling to need my attention. I was exhausted, more exhausted than a few hours of talking and listening should make a person.
After I’d slipped into the passenger seat of the car, I let out a quiet sigh of relief to be finally off my feet. My legs ached from standing for so long, especially in my uncomfortable heels. Men had it easier. They could wear their oxfords or Budapest shoes, and not squeeze their toes into pointy heels.
I must have dozed off because the next thing I remembered was Enzo turning off the engine in the garage. I sat up, embarrassed. “I’m sorry I fell asleep. That was rude.”
Enzo shook his head. “I don’t mind.”
I was too tired to analyze that statement. I made my way into the house, my eyes sliding toward the door to Dante’s office, wondering if he was still in there. Deciding I was too exhausted to give him a recount of the evening’s event, I headed upstairs, wincing every time my feet hit the floor. I needed to get out of my heels as soon as possible or I’d go crazy. I walked into the bedroom and froze. Dante was in bed, reading something on his tablet. As usual his upper body was naked, but now as my eyes raked over the scars marring his skin, I couldn’t help but imagine Dante at age fourteen, being tortured by his father to toughen him up.
“Did everything go well after I left?” Dante asked, barely glancing up from whatever he was reading.
“Yes, th
e high rollers lost quite a bit of money.” I slipped out of my heels and could have wept from relief. “I’m going to grab a quick shower.” Dante only nodded distractedly. I was too exhausted to care about it. After the shower, I put on a satin chemise and matching panties, and returned to the bedroom where I sat down on the edge of the bed, my back to Dante. I wasn’t in the mood to make an effort. I lifted my foot and started massaging it. Maybe next time I should switch to ballet flats. They would still look elegant but not hurt as much. The mattress shifted and then Dante’s voice was at my ear. “Let me.”
Before I could protest, he made me lie back and put my feet in his lap. His fingers started rubbing my tired feet and calves with just the right amount of pressure.
“Tonight was an exception. The high rollers needed to get to know you. You don’t have to stay that long in the future. Just make an appearance, greet them, make them feel welcome and then leave. Leo is a capable man.”
I hummed, my eyes closed as I relaxed under his massage. Now and then Dante’s finger strayed higher, stroking my knees or even thighs, and my breathing deepened. Dante, too, wasn’t unaffected. I could feel his erection pressing against my feet still resting in his lap. “Turn around,” Dante ordered.
I rolled over so I was lying on my stomach, knowing exactly what Dante wanted. Tonight I wasn’t even bothered by the fact that he never wanted to look at my face. I raised my butt when his fingers hooked under the waistband of my panties and slid them down my legs. Sighing into the pillow, I let Dante waken my exhausted body with his touch.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Dante was right. The next few weeks I made sure to be out of the casino by ten at the latest. I enjoyed the time I spent talking to the girls, the bartenders or the croupiers, but listening to most of the customers was strenuous. At least Raffaele had made sure to stay away from me, which was a huge plus.