Hidden Deceit
A Mafia Romance
Corrupt Minds Book 2
Camille Alexander
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
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This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.
Also By Camille Alexander
THE CORRUPT MINDS SERIES
Forbidden Desires (Book 1)
Hidden Deceit (Book 2)
Ruthless Captor (Book 3)
THE OBSESSED BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE SERIES
The Brokerage - Book 1
The Catacombs - Book 2
The Catacombs II - Book 3
The Catacombs III - Book 4
The Sentinel - Book 5
THE OBSESSED BILLIONAIRE BOX SET
CONTACT CAMILLE
Newsletter
Facebook Page
Amazon Author Page
Goodreads
BookBub
Chapter One
ELEANORA
“You know he’s staring at you, right? He’s so good looking. His friend’s not too shabby, either. Come on, Ella, flirt back. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Bria never missed a beat when it came to rooting out the best looking man within a two-mile radius—it was her thing. She was tall, lanky, and a hell of a dancer. Her height gave her an advantage over me, making her the perfect scout when it came to finding cute guys in a crowd. There was no shortage of willing partners in the club. There never was, but Bria and I were particular when it came to our choices in men.
“Yes, Bria, I see him. He’s gonna have to do a little more than stare a hole through my jumpsuit. The harder they work, the more grateful they are, as my mother always says.”
I’d learned the hard way not to make it too easy for the fellas. Italian men were all great lovers of the female body, but when it came to monogamy, they fell a little short. Perhaps it was the mood in Sicily in the 1970s. Young people were in need of distraction. The Second Mafia War was raging, consuming the region with violence and turmoil, the new way of life.
Italo Disco was blaring through the overhead speakers of the nightclub when the sexy, young man with jet black hair and piercing green eyes made his way to our table. He was tall, built like a bulldozer, and carried himself with confidence. He was most certainly a somebody—entirely too put together to be a wannabe.
“Uomo sexy,” whispered Bria as they came closer.
“Yes, Bria, I can see that. Keep your voice down, you horny girl.”
I’d worn my figure-hugging, shiny, electric blue jumpsuit. It was a showstopper for sure, accentuating my hourglass figure. My mother usually had a mini-stroke when she’d see me leave the house in my painted-on dancing clothes—I wore a coat when I thought my father was home. But it was the era of disco and platforms, and I was determined to rock it.
My admirer was wearing a flashy black shirt and white flared pants. His friend smiled like a Cheshire cat as he shimmied over to us. Bria, my best friend, was a gorgeous blonde, with pale blue eyes and a cute dimple when she smiled. She wore a silver miniskirt with knee-high white boots. A dance student, she attracted male attention on the dance floor. We were invariably up to our eyeballs in free drinks once she’d been under the glow of the disco ball for a few minutes. There was no doubt that the suppliers of the drinks wished her drunk enough to encourage her to wrap her long, shapely legs around their waist.
The temperature rose as the four of us squared off. The game was about to begin, and I had every intention of getting behind the ball, jumpsuit and all.
JOE
The newest nightclub in Palermo was pumping. It was at least ten o'clock when Fabio and I arrived, dressed to kill and ready to show off our Saturday Night Fever moves. The dance floor was illuminated with a large silver disco ball, colored lights flashing to the beat. The white and black checkered floor was a hive of sweaty bodies, gyrating and moving to the music.
Fabio was watching a beautiful blonde with gorgeous legs and a miniskirt that couldn’t possibly have been any shorter. She was a looker, alright, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her friend, the dark-haired stunner in the painted-on blue shiny jumpsuit.
“Ooph, I’d rather feel her than feel sick,” Fabio commented as he ogled the blonde. Her friend is definitely your type, bud. Dark, tanned, voluptuous. Yup, we’re in for a treat tonight, my friend.”
“Slow down, Romeo, pace yourself.”
My best buddy, Fabio, and I had been thick as thieves since we were in diapers. He was a good looking boy, skinny and tall but strong as an ox. He loved the ladies, and they adored his easygoing, fun approach to life. He had no type per se—if she was hot, he was willing to do her.
“That brunette isn’t going to sit on the shelf for too long, buddy. I can see you like her,” he mocked as he looked at my groin.
“You’re a chop, Fabio. Don’t worry about me, you perv. I’ve got this.”
He gave me one of his signature “love ya, bud” grins and made his way to the bar to buy us a drink. I watched the brunette as she moved. She was sensuous as hell, and her hourglass curves sent goosebumps up and down my spine. Fabio wasn’t wrong. My groin grew tight as I watched her body move on the dance floor. She had a sophisticated allure about her. While other women were throwing themselves at potential beaus, giggling and flirting, she was lost in the music. If she was aware that I was watching her, she didn’t show it. Cool as a cucumber.
Fabio returned to our table in the corner of the floor with scotch. The usual gang of misfits came over to shoot the breeze and check out the talent. Mario was short, rotund, and a suave dresser. His father was the muscle behind the mob, the man who provided the brawn to wise guys. The old man had a vicious temper, the polar opposite of his son, who was a lover, not a fighter. Franco’s father was the mob accountant. If laundering money was a sport, he'd win gold at the Olympics. The two were an odd pair—Franco pale, waiflike, and prone to being pissy and short-tempered—Mario gregarious, larger than life, and happy go lucky.
The boys were boisterous while the DJ played the biggest disco hits of the season. I listened and laughed at their crazy antics while I kept the brunette in my sights. I waited until she sat down at a table before I made my move. Fabio, wingman extraordinaire, went from zero to a hundred in a flash. He gave me a knowing smile and said, “Okay, let’s dance.”
“See you later, boys,” I told Mario and Franco.
“Yeah, later losers,” Fabio said as he bowed in jest.
Mario turned his attention to a cute girl in very tight pants. “Hey, baby, wanna spend my money?”
She laughed at his silly grin and came closer to the table. “Why, honey, how much do you have?”
“Why don’t you come closer and I’ll show you.”
So she did,
while Franco sat sipping on his beer and scanning the floor for his next heartbreak.
ELEANORA
His mellifluous voice caressed my ears while his bright green eyes arrested mine. I watched his full lips as he spoke.
“Hi, I’m Joe.” No lame come-ons, refreshing. He spoke with an English accent, but even if he never spoke at all, his presence would do the talking for him. He towered over me as he stood next to our table.
“Hi, I’m Eleanora.” My tone was as cool as a fall day, but on the inside, my stomach was doing the tango. He was magnificent; his emerald eyes strayed far from mine, although I did catch him checking out my jumpsuit a few times. He pulled me into his presence. I was unable to escape his gaze.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He smiled at me and my body tingled. “Another drink,” he said as he scanned the shameless row of shots lining the table already.
“I never was one for shots,” I cooed. “Thanks for rescuing a wine drinker. I’d love a Lambrusco, Joe.”
Bria and Joe’s sidekick were on the dance floor in a flash, neither one risking any wasted time. I wondered if the young man had any idea what he’d gotten himself into. Bria was a handful. She had a heart of gold—I couldn’t have hoped for a better friend—but she kept men on their toes. She was the only child of a wealthy couple who’d been friends with my parents for many years. When we’d first met, I’d thought she was a brat. It took a while for us to click, but once we did, there was no going back. I suspected we’d bumped heads at the off because we were both strong-willed, fiercely independent, and without siblings.
“I see my buddy, Fabio, has a crush on your blonde friend.”
“I hope he’s got strong feet. Bria’s gonna keep him on his toes.” I smiled as I watched the two do the hustle, laughing and swinging to the beat.
“Fabio is a big boy; he can handle himself with the ladies.” He watched them for a bit, and then, he turned back to me. “Would you like to dance?”
I’d be lying to myself if I denied that my body begged me to twirl on the dance floor with him. There was a chemistry between us that was electric.
“Okay,” I said coolly, hoping not to trip over my feet as I hopped off the tall chair. I wasn’t prepared to fall for him just yet.
The club was newly built and had all the latest gadgets and sound equipment one could wish for in a disco crazed era. The colors were as bright as the faces of those who gave themselves over to the pumping beat. As Joe and I took the floor, the music shifted to a slower song by the Bee Gees. Joe didn’t miss a beat. He took my hands and pulled me to him as we swayed to the rich, dark chocolate, harmonies of the Gibb brothers.
His chest was hard as nails, muscles twitching as we glided across the dance floor. His smooth olive skin glistened under the lights. I felt shudders attack me in delightful jolts as he spun and dipped me to the music. Despite my “hard to get” intentions, I was putty in his hands.
He leaned in closer and said in my ear “You’re very beautiful, Eleanora.”
The sound of his voice and the words he spoke turned my insides to warm, liquid honey. His breath on my skin summoned a tingle from my thighs, setting my desire for his touch on fire. I wondered what it would be like to caress his strong arms, kiss his luscious lips, feel him deep . . . Get a grip, Ella! Remember your rule!
But it was too late for rules. When he lifted my chin gently so he could look deep into my eyes, I knew I was in trouble. He pulled me closer as his mouth took control of mine, our tongues dancing to the sway of desire. My head was swimming, and my core was heavy with want. I could feel his hardness against me as we kept dancing. I knew it was crazy, but I couldn’t stop myself—Joe was irresistible. His touch was magic.
JOE
Fabio made no beans about wanting Bria. The gorgeous blonde was showing him up on the dance floor, which wasn’t an easy thing to do. Fabio was a good dancer, but he’d met his match in the blonde bombshell.
I had other things on my mind. Eleanora was breathtakingly beautiful. Her luminous blue eyes were quick, and they told of strength in such a young woman. I was never a fan of flighty, fast women—they grew tiresome very quickly. I preferred a woman with depth and intelligence. Eleanora was both beautiful and bright and I was hooked.
I was glad when the music had changed to a slow song, and even though I didn’t want to come across as a horny sleaze, I held her tightly, despite my honorable intentions. She felt so good in my arms. Her lush hair smelled of apples and flowers, her body a silken delight in the tight, smooth jumpsuit. I’d hoped that she wasn’t frightened off by the involuntary hardon that sprang from me so suddenly but she didn’t flinch.
When I kissed her, I half expected a slap across the face, but she melted into my arms as naturally as can be. I felt her hard breasts press against me, her hips swaying to the music of my desire. The woman was driving me crazy. The electricity between us was spectacular, and then, the music changed. She broke off our kiss and danced on as the DJ pumped out “Disco Inferno” as loudly as the speakers would allow. Eleanora was going to make me work for it. I could tell she was that kind of girl, and I was more than happy to oblige.
ELEANORA
“I need a drink! I feel like a sundried tomato.” Bria was out of breath and glistened with perspiration as she and Fabio made it back to the table. They looked good together and seemed to get on like a house on fire.
It had been hours of dancing, and despite our youthful exuberance, the four of us were in need of sustenance.
“I know a great café around the corner. They do a vitello tonnato that will make your mama blush. You ladies hungry?” Fabio was the smooth one. His easy personality was catchy, and Bria and I were starving. It didn’t take much persuasion to get us to leave.
Joe looked at me in quiet anticipation. Bria grabbed her purse, downed her drink, and said, “Let’s eat.”
“Would you like to join us, Eleanora?” Joe’s eyes were smiling at me, and I couldn’t say no, even if I’d wanted to—which I absolutely didn’t.
“Sounds great. Would you excuse us for a few minutes? Bria, will you come with me to the restroom?”
“Yeah, good idea. I’m sure my mascara must be halfway down my cheeks after so much dancing.” Bria was a treat, but she had no filter.
We fought our way to the bathroom through the throngs of clubbers. The line was long, so we had a good few minutes to catch up.
“So, how do you like your tall drink of water?” Bria lifted her hair off her neck and fanned herself with one hand. “You looked like you were rather enjoying your slow dance. Is he a good kisser?” She asked as she gave me a sideways grin.
“Now that you mention it, he’s ridiculously hot. Whatever you do, don’t leave me alone with him. I don’t trust myself.”
“So much for making him work for it, Miss Hard to Get.” Bria laughed and slapped me on the ass.
“Okay, okay! No need to gloat. You’re not doing too badly yourself, Miss Disco Queen. You gonna make this one dance for his supper?”
“He’s delicious. I can’t wait to taste the rest of him.” Bria grinned and licked her lips.
“Bria, you’re terrible.” We laughed as the line moved at snail’s pace.
When we finally made it into the inner sanctum of the bathroom, it was a hive of activity. Women chatted loudly as they lined up in front of the large wall mirror, checking their makeup and sharing gossip. A busty brunette stared intently at me as Bria and I stood chatting at the basin. She didn’t look happy.
“Don’t look now but Boobzilla over there is staring a hole through you. Do you know her?”
I looked over my shoulder at two women who were quite openly staring at me and pointing fingers at Bria. The busty brunette could have been pretty were it not for the ton of makeup she’d plastered on her face. She had a good body, and she was sure to show off every inch of it. Her cleavage made mine look repossessed at some stage. Her appeal to men was a no brainer really. Not men like Joe, I hoped.
“No, I don’t think so. Yes, I did feel the temperature in the room drop a few degrees. Is it just me or does she look pissed?” I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she spoke to a woman beside her. The two glowered at Bria and me.
“Is there a problem?” Bria looked straight at the two. She never shied away from anything—she was about as subtle as a heart attack.
“Who’s your little gold digger friend?” Boobzilla’s sidekick sneered.
“What business is that of yours?’ I replied.
“Trying to scale the social ladder one fuck at a time are you?” Boobzilla was talking now.
“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Or, perhaps, you use it for other unsavory things apart from trash talk. Besides, I don’t know what you mean.”
“I like my mouth just fine, thank you. Are you using your slutty tight jumpsuit to throw yourself at classy fellas like Joe, or was it by accident that he landed up on your hitlist?” The pissy brunette looked as if she was ready to rip me a new one.
“Does he belong to you, Peaches? It’s not our problem if you can’t hold on to your man, now is it?” Bria was ready to kick the attitude right out of the woman’s ass, but I wasn’t in the mood for a bloody scene straight out of The Godfather.
“Leave it, Bria. The bitch isn’t worth the effort.”
Boobzilla lunged at me, but her friend grabbed her arm. “Not here, Anna,” she said.
Bria and I thought it best to leave before the evening went south. A bathroom brawl wasn’t the best way to impress on a first date, although the idea of ripping off the bitch’s bra and whipping her with it was a satisfying one. But that would have to wait.
JOE
It was a good twenty minutes before the women emerged from the crowd.
“We thought you girls stood us up,” Fabio yelled over the music.
“We’ll tell you about it later,” Eleanora said as she and Bria gave each other a look.
Hidden Deceit: A Mafia Romance (Corrupt Minds Book 2) Page 1