by Bethany-Kris
“Exactly that, yes.”
“I didn’t take you for a frightened woman.”
Aria’s scowl melted into a condescending smile. “I’m not.”
“Then why—”
“Merda,” she swore.
Caesar followed her gaze to see the black sedan she had come in was now parked across the road, and the man stepped out of the driver’s side. He looked both ways, and then waited for a short line of cars to pass before he thought to cross the street.
“I have to go,” Aria murmured, fear thickening her voice. She tried to push past Caesar, but he grabbed tight to her arm, and swung her back around to face him as he dragged her closer. Maybe that was an asshole move—he didn’t tend to manhandle women outside of sex—but she seemed too shocked to do anything. All she gave him was a weak, “Don’t do that, Caesar.”
“You’re not leaving yet.”
Her worried gaze darted to the windows. “Please, you don’t understand what—”
“I want a meeting. You and me, and no one else.”
Surprise stared back at him. “What, why?”
“Because I asked for it.”
She was afraid the man was going to see him with her, and even though Caesar didn’t know why, he was more than willing to use it to get something he wanted from her. He was an asshole that way—never denied it, really.
“It’ll have to be on my terms,” she countered fast, her voice barely a whisper. “A safe meeting I set up, not you.”
Caesar shrugged. “Fine.”
“Now, let me go.”
He did, and she moved fast to head for the door. She had just stepped outside of the boutique as the man came to the other side of the road. The two exchanged words, but Aria kept shaking her head, and pointed at the car.
What was she hiding?
Who was this woman?
“I swear, it was entirely different women,” Caesar said as he cupped the to-go coffee between his palms. “The woman I met today was not the same one I met in the club, or the one who came to the meeting.”
Cain nodded, and sipped from his coffee before he replied, “No doubt. Depending on her father or husband’s disposition, though, something like that could get her killed.”
Caesar stiffened. “Something like what?”
“Anything, man. Everything she’s done—with you, I mean. But beyond that … just today, Caesar. Camorra isn’t like our thing, okay. Women may appear like they have more respect and freedom in a clan, but they’re fucking heavily controlled in every aspect. It’s all about appearance and reputation for them. She probably shouldn’t even be wearing fucking lipstick if her husband is out of town, you know what I mean?”
Wait, what?
Caesar blinked a few times as he tried to absorb those words, and still failed to understand. “You’re going to have to explain that to me.”
“Which part?”
“Most of it.”
Cain shrugged, and set his cup down on the table. “A woman is only respected in their culture if she is without shame. And they take it so far as to even say a woman isn’t allowed to be in private with a man who isn’t of her own blood, or one chosen by her husband.”
“Like a guard.”
“Yeah, I suspect whoever is watching her at any given time has been handpicked by either her husband or her father.”
“More likely the husband, though.”
“Considering her father’s in jail, yeah.”
Caesar hummed under his breath. “So, just being alone with me would be problematic for her?”
“If caught, yes.”
The man she’d called Nico—the one who’d warned her while Aria was in the hallway with Caesar—now made more sense to him. Except, he’d been worried for her, and not necessarily judging or threatening her for being alone with a strange man.
“I think she has one of them helping her, then,” Caesar said.
Cain tipped his head to the side. “I would suspect so, yes. She would have to in order for her to pull of something like the club, right?”
“Why the makeup thing?”
“Ah, yeah.” Cain rolled his eyes, saying, “Just goes back to the appearance bit again, you know? She should dress down, not overdo it with her hair, and keep her face clean of makeup. Basically, it makes her look like a grieving woman—she’s not available to other men that way.”
“And she’s supposed to just do that when?”
“If her husband is out of town, or locked up.”
“Even for years?”
Cain shrugged again. “Guess so.”
“What the fuck?”
“Hey, people have things to say about Cosa Nostra, too. Like the fact we can’t even introduce a man by his name, and instead whether or not he’s a friend of ours. We all have our things, Caesar.”
“That seems a little drastic, though. And she clearly doesn’t follow the rules.”
“Or she’s being allowed to bend them a bit because of circumstances. She is heading the family right now, isn’t she? No one is going to care to listen to a woman who looks like she just rolled out of bed when her appearance is meant to be the first thing presented about herself, and it needs to be perfect.”
“Huh.”
Cain reached for his cup, and took another sip. “Camorra is a strange and dangerous thing, man. Their entire culture is bred right into their person, and they guard and protect it with everything.”
“How do you even know this shit?”
“Worked alongside a captain for a clan a couple of years back when we had an issue on the streets. Nothing big, really. We made friends for a bit.”
“And what happened to that?”
Cain smiled bitterly. “What usually does with Camorras. A war sprung up between neighboring clans, and he was taken out in the process.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, but see, that’s also a part of their life. They wait for those moments knowing it’s going to happen. That it’s all a matter of time. It’s why I don’t think she’s actually scared to go up against your father—Aria De Rose wasn’t raised to be easily frightened of death. Not when it comes to her cause.”
“But the idea of being caught alone with me terrifies her enough that she’s willing to agree to meet up with me again even though that’s risky, and she’s basically already got what she wanted from me the first time around.”
What a fucking juxtaposition that was.
Caesar didn’t know what to do with it.
“What seems foreign to you right now is probably second nature to her. What I would be more interested in trying to figure out is why a woman like that is going to the lengths she is to deceive her husband—and everyone else in her life—and what she is trying to gain from it.”
“Questions, questions.”
His friend chuckled. “And not an answer in sight.”
Caesar smirked. “I have my ways of getting them.”
“Careful—Angelo won’t like that.”
“You offer that like a deterrent, but …”
“It’s more like encouragement,” Cain grumbled. “Yeah, I know how you fucking work.”
He did.
It was why they were friends.
“Now, when and how is she going to set up this meeting?” Caesar asked more of himself than his friend. “That should be interesting.”
Cain gave him a look. “Or deadly.”
Yes, or that.
He figured it’d be worth it.
SIX
PEPPERMINT SCHNAPPS WAS a favorite drink of Aria’s—straight, and not mixed with anything. A cool burn slid down her throat with every sip, and a bite lingered behind with her next breath. She nursed her drink while staring out the window of the hotel she had slipped off to for the evening.
“All’s well, then?” she heard Nico ask on his phone call.
Turning to stare at her friend, she caught sight of his quick fro
wn before he put his back to her, and finished up the call. She wasn’t too worried about that frown of his—it wasn’t because something had gone wrong in her plans, no doubt.
It was because everything was going right.
And he worried.
“Well?” Aria asked when Nico came to stand next to the chaise.
“He’s on his way.”
“Good.”
She sipped on the drink again, and reveled in the calm it chased through her bloodstream. Another reason why she loved the drink.
It was calm in a bottle.
“I don’t think they’ll be long,” Nico added after a beat of silence. “Maybe fifteen minutes, or so. Caesar wasn’t too far away when they picked him up on the side of the street.”
Aria contemplated that statement. “Doesn’t he ever drive?”
“Occasionally, it looks like. A red Corvette, actually. Vintage style.”
Well, damn.
That was a nice car.
Even she could appreciate that.
“Nothing else?” she asked.
Nico shrugged. “Other than the Corvette, no.”
“I bet I know why he picked that car.”
All its sleek lines, and chrome. A bright, sexy color that would turn heads. An emblem on the front that would make a woman wet at the sight alone.
“Women love pretty cars,” she said with a smirk when Nico looked to her for an answer.
“Likely. I take it he’s probably always had a driver, or like most Capos, his work is done on the streets with a crew. He’s comfortable enough in the city that the streets probably feel like a second home.”
“Interesting perspective.”
“Yeah, I try,” her friend muttered.
Aria sighed at the tension lingering in his voice. “Just get it out.”
“It doesn’t matter what I tell you, you’re going to go through with this meeting anyway. I don’t even think you’ll need it, but here you are.”
“And yet, you want to share your opinion despite knowing it won’t make a difference to what I’m going to do. Funny how that works.”
“Let’s call it force of habit.”
“You could do that,” she replied, tipping her glass at him, “or you could just say you’re worried about me.”
“I am. I am extremely worried.”
“You shouldn’t be, Nico.”
She understood why he was, sure, but it really wasn’t going to change her resolve in all of this. She had plans to follow through on, and goals she intended to meet no matter the cost. And God knew … God knew she felt it in her fucking bones with every move she made—the cost was going to be high.
Maybe the cost to her.
Of course, the cost to others.
And anyone in her way.
What was she to do?
“I just … how far are you willing to go to see this through?” he asked. “How many organizations are you willing to ruin to get what you want, or how many men are you fine with seeing die for this cause?”
She didn’t even have to think about it.
Not really.
“As many as it takes.”
How else was she to survive this?
Caesar had his phone stuck to his ear when the hotel door was opened to showcase him standing behind it with one of Aria’s trusted men—the one other she had besides Nico—close at his side. He barely passed her a second glance where she stood in the middle of the room, and her glowering man didn’t faze him a bit, either.
In fact, he ignored them both.
His phone call seemed more important.
“Kind of busy right now, actually,” he said to whoever it was.
Aria cocked a brow, but stayed quiet.
Caesar let out a harsh sigh, and glared at the ceiling. “No, I guess you can safely assume I won’t be coming to dinner, Angelo. And no, don’t bother to apologize to Martina or Daniele for it, either. They honestly don’t give a shit.”
Ouch.
She bet family dinners at his family’s home were absolutely delightful.
Not.
Aria had done enough research and digging into the personal lives of the Accardo family to know there was tension there. For what reason, she wasn’t entirely sure. Oh, sure, she suspected it had a lot to do with Caesar’s behavior and tendency to fuck anything he preferred with a hole between its legs, but that only left her with more questions than answers, really.
Like why he would act that way at all.
No man simply woke up one day and decided to make it his goal in life to fuck his way through the organization’s wives, and whoever else he felt like. No man was born with that kind of inclination.
It was a learned behavior.
Or … a byproduct of something else.
Honestly, Aria was just surprised Caesar’s father had let him go on as long as he did. Cosa Nostra had its own set of rules and expectations, and she bet Caesar had pushed every line he could, and snapped a few altogether along the way.
How was he still alive?
Questions for another day.
“I’m offending you?” Caesar asked, grinning a little bit. “That kind of sounds like another one of those you problems, Angelo.”
Angelo’s loud, angry reply echoed through the speaker enough that Aria could actually hear the hum of his words. She couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying, but it was enough to tell her that he wasn’t pleased.
She was just about done with this show.
Done with the game Caesar was playing.
“Shut off the phone,” she told him quietly.
For the first time since he had entered the hotel room, his gaze drifted to her, and lingered for a moment before drifting up and down her body. His unashamed perusal of her, and the way his stare lingered at the junction between her thighs, and the swell of her breasts under the tight, shimmering fabric of the dress was enough to heat her blood.
Men looked, sure.
They never really appreciated.
Aria had only been with a couple of men before her husband—and he took great enjoyment in making it miserable for her—and then, Caesar. All of her sexual encounters had been for the purpose of furthering her family’s agenda should the need arise, although she had always been careful not to be caught, or to blackmail a man to the point she had him crippled under her control. Other than a boyfriend when she was a sixteen-year-old girl, there had never been a sexual relationship that she went in to because she thought she would actually enjoy it or wanted it, for that matter.
It had not been worth the risk to her life for a taste of dick just because she felt the urge to lay down with a man—being caught would have shamed her family, and ruined her reputation. So, before Caesar, sex had simply been something she used to her own advantage, or a need she fulfilled for her husband. Not for her own enjoyment, and even Caesar hadn’t been meant to be anything but something she used.
Except it didn’t work that way.
The club had happened—one single moment with a man who without knowing he had done so, taught her that she was as much of a sexual human being as the next woman even if she did well to ignore it, and it did feel damn good. He’d made her want to get on her knees for him, and taste him on her tongue. Something she had only been forced to do before. He also taught her that sex was dirty, addictive, and it simply took the right person for it to make a goddamn difference.
So, maybe it made her hot to see him stare because she knew why he did. Maybe it messed her up a little to think he wanted to do it again because she wasn’t even sure if she could refuse. She didn’t know if her new weakness would allow her to.
And that was bad.
“Hang up the phone,” she repeated when Caesar kept staring. This time, her tone came out sharp, and authoritative. She wasn’t fucking around anymore—he’d wanted this meeting, and so they were going to have it. “Now.”
Angelo’s voice kep
t humming on, too.
Raging on, really.
Caesar gave her a cocky smile as he pulled the phone away from his ear, and ended the call without a word to his father that he was going to do so. “Happy?”
She didn’t even get to reply.
The phone started ringing again.
“Turn it off,” she demanded.
Caesar laughed darkly. “You don’t know much about the rules of made men, do you? Never shun a boss, sweetheart.”
“I’m far from sweet. Shut your phone off.”
“I don’t know—I thought the taste of your pussy was awfully sweet, actually.”
Jesus Christ.
She felt the heat trying to climb up her throat and into her cheeks, but she took a quick breath, and urged the emotions down. Glancing at the waiting men behind Caesar, she gave the two a nod.
“Close the door, and wait outside.”
Nico nodded, and followed the other man out without needing to be told again. She was grateful that he was at least letting his concerns about this meeting and what might follow to remain unheard for the moment.
She couldn’t afford to deal with Caesar, and Nico at the same time. One drove her crazy with urges she wasn’t ready to handle, and the other one made her crazy with his constant worries taking over every fucking conversation.
“Oh, no guards?” Caesar asked. “But what if you need them?”
His grin showed off arrogance, and amusement all rolled into one. A sexy sight if she had ever seen one. Today, he was dressed in a flat black three-piece suit, and had a vest and tie to match. Were suits all he ever wore? Did he even own a pair of jeans?
“Why would I need my guards?”
Caesar shrugged. “I suppose because I might hurt you.”
“You could try.”
His grin melted into a smirk in an instant.
Sex walking.
“How do you do that?” he asked, arching one brow high.
“Do what?”
“Flip back and forth between different women depending on your situation—the one who tricked me in a club, and looked like sin had been poured into a dress, and the one who ran scared at the idea of being seen with me in a store. Oh, and let’s not forget the woman who walks into a meeting with a Cosa Nostra boss, and threatens him. I just … find it very fascinating.”