by Reilly, Cora
My nerves grew as the city lights thinned out and we left them behind completely. “Where are we going?”
I tried to mask the apprehension in my voice. The stupid stories I’d read about the mafia came uninvited into my mind, and I envisioned myself being buried under the desert sand. Not that the mafia had any interest in me.
He steered the car up a steep road then stopped it on a plateau. “Here.”
I followed his gaze out the windshield and released a surprised breath, leaning forward for a better view. We overlooked Las Vegas from our spot. It was an incredible sight. Against the night sky, the colored flashing lights seemed even brighter. A promise of excitement and money. Despite the miles between the Strip and me, I could almost taste the endless opportunities. I wished that only once in my life I would be offered the same opportunities so many people had.
It seemed like such a romantic location for a first date. I hadn’t pegged Fabiano as the romantic type, and perhaps he wasn’t. Perhaps he wanted to take me somewhere remote so we could be alone. My heart thumped in my throat at the idea. His warm, musky scent filled the car, and my body reacted to it in a way I’d never experienced. He was watching me intently as I watched the Las Vegas skyline. I wished there was something I could say to break the tension, but my mind drew a blank. He reached up and stroked a finger down my neck, further down along my spine, leaving goose bumps on his way. The sensation tingled all the way down to my toes. I marveled at the gentleness of his touch, still remembering how these same hands had broken his opponent’s bones with little effort. I wondered how the same hands would feel on other parts of my body. Stop it, Leona. If I started thinking like that, it was only a small leap before I acted upon it.
“Let’s get out,” he said in a low voice that left my mouth dry and my nerves on edge. When he exited the car and closed the door, my breath whooshed out of me. I tried to steal myself for his closeness, but I knew the moment I got near him again, my body would be a melting pot of conflicting feelings.
CHAPTER 9
FABIANO
The cool night air filled my lungs. I was glad for the reprieve from Leona’s tantalizing scent. I wanted to bend her over the hood of my car and bury myself to the hilt inside of her. Fuck, I wanted to do it over and over again. I wasn’t sure why these damn freckles and cornflower blue eyes got to me, but they fucking did. She must have seen it in my expression, because I’d never seen her more uneasy in my company than in that car.
I ran a hand through my hair, which was still damp from my earlier shower. I’d pummeled the fucking heavy bag for too long and was almost late for our date. In the last couple of years, I mainly dealt with whores or pole dancers. Their intentions were always clear from the start. They either wanted money, drugs, or a favor. They weren’t shy. They wanted something from me, so they showed me what they could offer. The sex had been a satisfying joyride, but Leona was different. Her shyness irritated and fascinated me at the same time. She was a challenge like I’d never had, and my body was eager to conquer it. Too fucking eager.
Leona stepped out of the car, looking almost flustered. She kept her eyes trained on the sight below us as she came around to meet me. Her hands clutched that tacky, old backpack.
“You are obsessed with that thing,” I said, feeling the irritating urge to lighten the mood and set her at ease.
She let out a small laugh, her eyes crinkling. “I thought it went well with my shoes.” She lifted her foot a couple of inches.
My gaze went to her dark green leather flats then up to the backpack of an unidentifiable color. Perhaps it had been beige a long time ago. She was definitely the first woman that came on a date with me, holding a fucking backpack. I chuckled.
“Remind me next time we go shopping to buy you one of those fancy purses girls go crazy over.”
Her eyebrows shot up then knit together. “You can’t keep buying things for me.”
I swiveled my body around so we were standing even closer, leveling my gaze on her. She didn’t back off, but I could see goose bumps form along her slender arms. “Who’s going to stop me?”
Remo couldn’t care less if I spent my money on women, cars, or property, as long as I didn’t start betting or gambling or worse ... neglect my duties.
“I will ...?” It sounded more a question than a statement.
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
Her frown deepened, and she sighed. “I’m no good at playing these power games.”
“Who said this is a power game?”
“Isn’t it always? With men, it’s always about exerting dominance. And you ...” She shook her head.
“And I ...?”
“Everything you do is a sign of dominance. When I saw you in the fighting cage that was perhaps the most relaxed I’ve ever seen you act. Outside of it you act like a hunter, always looking for someone who might dare to challenge your status.”
I smiled. She seemed to think she knew me. I got that she’d seen a lot in her life, but the world I grew up in was a very different kind of shark tank. “In our world, you are either hunter or prey, Leona. I know what I am. What are you?”
Pressing my palms against her bare shoulders, I started to slide them lower, watching her reaction. She shivered but didn’t push me away, though I could tell that she was thinking about it.
“Prey,” she admitted reluctantly. “I will always be.” She gazed past me, toward Las Vegas, looking lost and resigned.
My hands stilled on her back. This unguarded admission did something strange to me. It unleashed a protective, fierce side I hadn’t experienced toward a woman since I’d been a scrawny kid and tried to defend my sisters. The soft breeze tugged at her brown curls as she lost herself in the sight of the city.
I bent down and kissed her ear. She released a shuddering breath. “Perhaps you need a protector so you stop being easy prey.”
“Am I easy prey?” she asked quietly.
I didn’t bother replying. We both knew how it was. And in a city like this, a city ruled by us, a girl like her was lost. “Do you want a protector?”
She closed her eyes as I kissed the skin below her ear. For once it was hard to read her. “And you think you can be my protector?”
I could protect her against almost any threat. Not against the Camorra. And not against myself. But that wasn’t something I wanted to consider. “You saw me fight. Do you doubt it?”
She opened her eyes and tilted her head up toward me, blue eyes soft and probing. “No,” she said. “But I think you and your way of life are threats too.”
I didn’t deny it.
“Why do you even want to protect me?”
To be honest, I didn’t know. Perhaps Aria had somehow managed to get through to me. It made me fucking furious to think about it. That fucking bracelet. I shouldn’t have accepted it.
“There’s nothing I could give you in return.” Her expression became more determined. “I don’t have any money to spare, but I don’t think you’d want it. You certainly don’t need it. If there’s something else you want, I’m not that kind of girl.”
Not that kind of girl. Remo’s words about her mother flashed through my mind. Was this an act after all?
There was an easy way to find out, of course. I gripped her hips. Her lips parted in surprise, but I didn’t give her the chance to voice her protest.
I kissed her and after a moment of hesitation she kissed me back.
I could tell she didn’t have much experience kissing. Fuck. That knowledge was the last straw. I had to have her. Every little inch of her. Every goose bump. Every freckle. Every fucking shy smile. All for myself.
And I had to protect her from all the wolves she believed were sheep. My fingers tangled in her curls, angling her head to the side to give me better access to that sweet mouth of hers.
I slid my hands from her waist to her bare back again then lower. Her hands came up against my chest. I savored the taste of her for a few seconds more before I allow
ed her to push me away.
Her dark lashes fluttered as her eyes found mine. In the dim light, I couldn’t see if her cheeks were as flushed as I expected them to be. I brought my hand up and brushed my knuckles along her high cheekbones. Her skin was practically burning up with embarrassment and want. My cock twitched in my pants.
She tore herself away from me, walked to the edge of the hill we were on, and looked out toward the bright city lights.
I let my eyes take in her silhouette for a couple of moments, allowing her to gather herself before I approached. I came to a stop right behind her. She didn’t acknowledge my presence, except for the slight tensing of her shoulders. Her sweet, flowery perfume drifted into my nose. I traced the line of her spine with my knuckles, needing to feel her silky skin.
LEONA
That touch ignited desires I’d suppressed for a long time. Fabiano always touched me in a way that never gave me any real relief. Did he know the effect he had on me?
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked.
“Because I thought you’d appreciate the sight. You haven’t been in Las Vegas for very long.”
“Wouldn’t the Strip be a better place to show someone the city?”
Fabiano stepped up to my side, and I was glad to be able to see him again. Having him so close behind me, his fingers running down my spine, was too distracting.
He pushed his hands into the pockets of his slacks, his blue eyes scanning over the city below us. And for the first time I caught the briefest glimpse behind his mask. This was a place he came often. I could tell. This city, it was important to him. It was his home.
I’d never had a place to call home. How would it be to look at something or someone and feel at home?
“There are too many people around who don’t get the city. Up here, I have the city to myself.”
“So you don’t like to share?” I said teasingly.
He turned his gaze to me. “Never. Not even my city.”
I shivered. Nodding, I quickly looked back to the skyline. “Were you born here?”
I wasn’t very perceptive but the stiffening of his shoulders told me he didn’t like where our conversation was heading.
“No. Not in the sense that you mean,” he said quietly. “But I was reborn here.”
I searched his face, but he wasn’t giving anything away. It was all hard lines as the silence stretched between us.
“I thought this could be a new start for me as well,” I said eventually.
“Why would you need a new start?”
“All my life I’ve been judged by the actions of my mother. I want to be judged for my own doing.”
“Being in the shadow of your family isn’t easy,” he said, meeting my gaze. Another small crack in his mask. “But being judged for your own wrongdoings can be hard as well.”
“Do you think I’ve done too many wrong things?”
He smirked. “You are here with me. I’d say you have a strong penchant for doing wrong things.”
I feared he was right. “Because you’re in the mafia.”
“Because I am part of the Camorra.” I loved the way he rolled the r’s when he said the word. I could almost feel the vibrations all the way in the pit of my stomach. I wondered why he insisted there was a difference between the Camorra and the mafia.
“Because I am their Enforcer.”
“Enforcer,” I said, furrowing my brows. I’d never heard that term before. “So you’re enforcing their laws like some kind of mob police.”
He chuckled. “Something like that,” he said darkly. My gut tightened at the dark undercurrent in his voice.
I waited for him to elaborate, but he seemed content to leave me guessing, so I decided to ask Cheryl about it later. If I had a cell phone, or if my Dad had a working computer, I would have Googled the term. As it was, I needed to rely on old-fashioned channels to get information. Fabiano was obviously unwilling to reveal any more about what his mafia title entailed.
“I thought you’d be eager to see tonight’s fight. I hear it’s a big one.”
Fabiano shrugged. “It is, but I have watched thousands of fights in my life and have fought hundreds. I don’t care if I miss one.” His eyes settled on me. “And I wanted you for myself.”
Was he embarrassed of being seen with me? The poor little waitress and the big deal mobster.
I rubbed my arms, the night’s cold air catching up with me. Fabiano pressed up behind me and began stroking my arms through the thin fabric of my dress. Always close, always touching. His spicy aftershave engulfed me like his arms did.
“What do you want from me?” I whispered.
“Everything.”
Everything.
That word still made my breathing hitch as I lay awake later that night after our date. There was no way I could fall asleep.
I don’t like to share.
Everything.
I was attracted to Fabiano and was curious, but curiosity killed the cat. I feared that being close to Fabiano would put an end to all the plans I’d so carefully made for my future, but I wanted to see him again. I wanted to kiss him again. I knew it wasn’t a good idea, and I wasn’t sure what to do.
Just let it happen.
Being with him made me feel good. Very few things in my life did. Why not allow myself this small sin? Because that’s what he was ... sin.
The next day I made sure to be at work early so I would have time for a conversation with Cheryl. That other waitress, who I still didn’t know how old she was, was there as well. Her name was Mel. I had to wait until she was finally out of earshot, off cleaning the changing rooms, before I could confront Cheryl. A few of our regular customers were already sitting at their favorite table, but they could wait a couple of minutes. The bar wasn’t even officially open yet. It wasn’t like they came here for the extraordinary service.
“You had the evening off,” was the first thing out of Cheryl’s mouth when Mel had disappeared through the back door. “On the night of a big fight.”
“I had a date with Fabiano.”
She shook her head, her mouth puckering. “God, chick, don’t you know what’s good for you?”
“What’s an Enforcer?”
She sighed, nodding toward the table with the early customers. “See Eddie over there?”
I nodded.
“His arm is in a cast because of your Fabiano. First warning as they call it.”
My eyes grew wide. Fabiano beat people up? “First warning,” I said carefully. “What’s the second and third warning?”
She smiled sympathetically. “That depends how much money you owe and what kind of mood Falcone and Fabiano are in. Smashed knee cap? Cut off finger? Having the living daylights beaten out of you?” She paused for effect, gauging my reaction. “Third warning will make you wish for death.”
“And if people still don’t pay?” What if people weren’t ever able to pay? It could happen. I lost count of the number of times my mother had been broke. A beating wouldn’t have changed that. And even if she came into money, she would probably have used it for meth.
Cheryl ran a finger over her throat.
I looked down at my hands clutching the bar counter. It would have been a lie if I’d said I couldn’t imagine Fabiano capable of something like that. I’d seen him fight, had seen the darkness in his eyes.
“Now you’re having second thoughts,” she said. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll lose interest in you soon. It’s not like these men would ever consider having a serious relationship with someone like us.”
I stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“They are Italian mobsters. They like to play with normal women, but they’ll marry Italian virgins from noble upbringing. It’s always been like that. I don’t think a new Capo will change that.”
“This is the twenty-first century, and we’re not in Italy.”
“Might as well be because their traditions and rules are from there.”
Everythi
ng.
In my silly mind I’d construed the word to mean body and mind, but now I wondered if Fabiano was on the lookout for a few nights of fun before he moved on to the next woman. This was all too much baggage for me to handle: Fabiano being an Enforcer and the mafia with their old-fashioned rules. My life had always been a mess—and was still messed up enough without him adding any fuel to the fire. Even if my body ached for his touch, and even if some stupid part of me wanted to get to know him—the real him—I had to stay away from him. Maybe I was a fixer, but I had to fix my own life before I could consider fixing someone else.
Business was slow that evening. Most customers had lost considerable amounts of money the night before, during the big fight, and stayed away from the bar. I wouldn’t have minded a busy day; it would have distracted me from my wandering thoughts. When I walked past a table occupied with two older men, who’d been drinking the same beer for almost one hour, I overheard a snippet of their conversation that caught my attention.
“Killed him. Just like that. Twisted his head, broke his neck. But the old guy knew what was coming. Shouldn’t have tried to run away without paying his debt. Falcone don’t like that. I always pay. Even if it means no food for days. Better hungry than dead.”
“You got it,” rasped the other man, who then fell into a coughing fit. I busied myself wiping the table next to them, hoping to find out who had broken someone’s neck. The mere idea sent a shiver down my back. Sadly, the men seemed to have caught on to my presence and switched their conversation to the upcoming fights. Had Fabiano been the one to kill a man?
When I left the bar at quarter after two that night, Fabiano’s car was parked in front of the entrance.
I froze mid-step, half hoping it was a coincidence. He shoved open the passenger door. “Get in. Can’t let you walk on your own at night.”
One look at his handsome face, I wasn’t sure I could end things between us. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to anymore. People had seldom kept their promises to me. I learned to expect disappointment, but here he was, keeping his promise to protect me. For the first time in my life, there was someone who could protect me. My mother had never been capable of protecting me from her mood swings or the beatings of her disgusting boyfriends. And she certainly could not protect me from the insults other kids hurled at me.
