“You’re too classy for that. Obviously it takes a lot more than money and charm to interest you.”
“Obviously,” she whispered.
His brother didn’t make a move to kiss her, and she didn’t pull away or step aside.
“Perhaps the next time I call you, you’ll answer,” he said to her.
“Gisella.”
Collin and Fedarro both turned to see a tall, rather angry-looking man standing there. Collin didn’t know who he was, but his brother’s expression changed immediately.
“Hello, Emanuel,” Gisella said and stepped away from Fedarro and toward the man. “I’d like you to meet two friends of mine.”
“Fedarro,” the guy, Emanuel, said, and Gisella stepped to the side.
“Emanuel,” Fedarro said back at him, and then the guy put his hand out for Gisella to take as if commanding her to go with him. Who the hell was this guy?
“They’re waiting for us,” Emanuel said to her.
She turned to look at Collin and Fedarro. “Enjoy the rest of the evening.”
Emanuel looked from Fedarro to Collin and then walked away, letting his hand slide along Gisella’s waist to her hip. He whispered into her ear.
“Who the hell is that?” Collin asked Fedarro as they watched them walk away.
Fedarro turned back toward the bar. “Martini, Grey Goose, shaken, one olive. Please,” he said to Ray.
“Yes, sir,” Ray replied.
Collin glanced back, but Gisella was nowhere to be seen. “Well?” Collin asked his brother.
Ray put the drink down, and Fedarro took a sip. “Emanuel Picatta. Iglesias’s brother. “
Collin was shocked. He knew who Iglesias was, had met him a few times, the pompous, rich asshole. He didn’t know Iglesias had a brother. “How do you know him?”
“Our paths crossed at a private dinner party a few months back.”
“By his expression seeing Gisella with us, I think he’s pissed off.”
Fedarro looked at Collin and held his gaze. “He has friends in bad places, Collin, and I’m wondering why Gisella is with him.”
“Want to find out?” Collin asked.
Fedarro smirked slightly. His brother was incredibly serious at all times. The man never smiled. If looks could kill, his brother would accomplish that—not that he was any friendlier himself, except when it came to certain people. What Collin knew about Iglesias Picatta was that the man was wealthy, had connections in the Russian mob, and was quite successful in the real estate and weapons industry. Why was his cousin here, and how did Gisella know him?
“We don’t do anything. We have other places to be tonight, and I don’t play games,” Fedarro said, and Collin felt disappointed. Gisella sure did look incredible tonight.
* * * *
“I’m sorry, Emanuel, but I need to get going. I made other plans, and I can’t miss my friend’s party,” Gisella said as Emanuel walked with her to the coat closet.
He placed his hand on her hip, and she paused and looked up into his eyes. He was a very attractive man, but like so many others he wanted to use her—for her business connections, for getting early alerts on inside sales, and for her body, despite the fact that she had dated his cousin in college while continuing to achieve her Master’s degree. She didn’t want to think about that time in her life and what could have been. She learned the hard way about made men, and it wasn’t something she was interested in dealing with ever again.
“Let me drive you to the party, hell, be your date.” He gave her a wink and eased his hand up along her ribs nearly to her breast. She tightened up, and his hand froze.
“Emanuel, you know I don’t get involved with clients. Besides, I consider you a friend. You’ve been very supportive over the years.”
“I thought we were more than friends, considering our pasts. I’d like to think you’ve learned to trust me, perhaps allow me to take care of you in other ways.”
He stroked her jaw. She pulled back. “Emanuel, I’ve told you how I feel about things, about your brother, Iglesias, too. I think it’s better we’re just friends.”
“What do you consider Fedarro Fiorre?” he asked and pressed closer.
She gripped his arms. “I consider him an acquaintance. His cousins are dating a very close friend of mine.”
“I don’t like the way he or Collin looks at you. They want you, and they are not men to take any woman seriously or treat them right. They screw who they want when they want.”
“As do you and so many other men.” She pushed his arms away and reached for her coat. She was angry over his remarks about Collin and Fedarro screwing women. It made her jealous, and she didn’t understand why when she’d already decided she couldn’t entertain an attraction to them.
As Emanuel helped her get her coat on, he whispered next to her ear as he held her hips, “We go way back, Gisella. Share secrets that can never be spoken of.”
His lips touched her ear and then her neck. At first she was intimidated, and then she was angry. She turned to look up at him. “Secrets that shouldn’t even be brought up as a tool to push me. I don’t date at all.”
“That’s not entirely true. You did have that fling with Dante in Rome.”
She smirked. “I did not have a fling with Dante in Rome. We enjoyed one another’s company and made a nice business deal on the villa there and the penthouse in Manhattan. It was strictly business.”
“That’s not what I heard,” he said.
“Well, if Dante said otherwise, then I will discuss that with him next time we talk.”
“I didn’t say it was Dante.”
“Then who?” she asked, challenging him.
He cupped her cheek and gave her a pacifying, almost chuckling expression like he found her amusing. “You are even lovelier when you get riled up.”
She shook her head, and now she was giving him a smirk. She poked him in the chest. “And you, sir, are a flirtatious troublemaker. Now, I need to go.” She went to leave, and he grabbed her wrist, pulled her close, and kissed her cheek.
“I’ll call you to set up lunch and some business later in the week with Iglesias at the house.”
“Only if it’s business. I’m quite busy this week—for the next several months actually.”
“You’ll make time for us. I know you will. Our assistant will call yours and arrange it.”
“Okay. Good night, and enjoy the party.”
“Not without you by my side, I won’t.”
She exhaled, smiling as Emanuel playfully nibbled his bottom lip and eyed her body over as if regretful that she was leaving and he wouldn’t get a chance to make more moves. Not the typical playboy, he carried a gun, had guards, and was capable of using his bare hands to kill someone. Definitely not typical at all.
She headed out of the room, unable to stop herself from looking for Collin and Fedarro. She liked them. A lot. Hell, what was there not to like, except their professions and what they were involved in. She didn’t need that kind of worry or stress. She knew a little bit about being with a made man. Even when Vender, Emanuel and Iglesias’s cousin, had just been starting out, he was rolling in the money, fighting, getting bruised up—and he’d eventually gotten killed by some higher-up he’d pissed off. She had been devastated. She had loved him—or at least thought she had.
She had been so stupid. He was her first lover, and his cousins, uncles, and friends watched out for her, protected her, and it made her feel important. It was like one big family. Then her father caught wind of their relationship and Vender’s involvement in organized crime. She fought with him and her mom over remaining Vender’s girlfriend. It seemed so Romeo and Juliet to her. One minute they were having a romantic dinner and talking about going back to his place and making love, and the next he was being shot up right by the car as he was getting into the driver’s side. She took a hit to her shoulder, a flesh wound. She cringed just thinking about it as tears filled her eyes.
She waited for the taxica
b. There was a bit of a line, and her mind wandered as she waited.
She could hardly remember making the phone call. She had been in shock. The next thing she knew, two men had been coming toward the car dressed in black. She’d screamed into the phone. Iglesias and Emanuel were yelling. The door pulled open, and one of the guys stood there smiling at her. He told her how he’d been watching her and that she was going to come back to their place and be the whore for their entire gang. As he pulled her up by her blouse, making it rip, she swung at him, and he swung back. The ache in her arm had been terrible, but she wasn’t going to let him take her. She was freaking out over Vender being shot, and she didn’t know if he was dead or alive. Then the next gunshot went off, and she screamed and knew the other guy had made sure he finished the job.
The ugly, mean-looking son of a bitch in front of her yanked her hard, and she fell to the sidewalk, landing on her arm and shoulder that a bullet had grazed. As she’d fought to not let them take her away, they got her closer to their van when suddenly she heard squealing tires and caught sight of multiple black SUVs coming into the side street. It had been superfast—doors slamming, men yelling, bullets flying, and then the guy released her, and she landed on her back.
She exhaled and looked out the window in the cab. Why was she thinking about this—about that night and how she should have been killed? She had been devastated, in a state of shock, especially as Vender’s cousins rescued her and then showed her part of organized crime she wanted to know nothing about.
Shaking her head, she dismissed those memories and stared straight ahead. What she had thought was such a perfect relationship, filled with commitment, love, and a future, had quickly vanished before her eyes. Her lover had been ripped from her arms, and she wondered how she would go on. Then came the wake and the funeral.
It was then, when she was sobbing and in mourning, that she saw all the young women who showed up looking just as distraught. It hit her hard. Vender hadn’t been faithful, hadn’t loved her only. He’d cheated on her, and she went from feeling like her world was over to forcing herself to face reality and see what he really had been—a cheating thug who cared about money, power, and making people fear him. He’d nearly got her killed. He’d never put her first, and because of him, she knew of three murders that she could never speak of—the killings of the three men who had attacked Vender and her that night. She would take that information to the grave and be sure to never let her guard down and trust another man again. Certainly not a made man.
She got into the taxi to make her way to Club Magique. Her mind couldn’t help but wander back to her stupid decisions and to giving up her heart, and her virginity, to Vender. Then when it was over, Emanuel, Iglesias, and others in the Picatta family had tried to take care of her—secretly, of course—but she couldn’t continue accepting their help, visits, and phone calls, especially when she knew what they wanted—her. As if she were some easy whore who would sleep with them for comfort, for involvement with more men like Vender. She was young, too. Just twenty-one.
Thank God she had been so pissed at Vender for cheating on her, lying to her, and getting killed for being greedy that she didn’t trust any other men. She learned to keep Emanuel, his brother, and other men at bay. She was careful of who to get involved with, so careful that she hadn’t dated another man. Vender had hurt her deeply, and there hadn’t been a man to make her want to take a chance like she had with him.
She had put that all behind her. In the following years she had stayed clear, as best she could, of men like that. Emanuel and Iglesias remained a part of her life, as did their family and their guards, who showed up here and there as if keeping eyes on things. Gisella had gotten a bit fed up with it and taken the short-term position in Rome for six months, where she’d met Dante and helped him out. She chuckled thinking about Emanuel’s accusation of her sleeping with Dante. Didn’t he know that Dante played for both teams? Dante’s infatuation with both men and women was extreme. He put a whole twist on the orgy idea, and it made her cringe. She sure wasn’t into anything like that.
The car stopped, and she paid the driver. She got out of the cab and made her way to the front security. It took only one glance of her body for Ferrari, a bouncer there, to unclip the red rope and let her by the waiting crowd.
“Good evening, Gisella. I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”
She smiled at him as he scanned her breasts in the dress she wore. Her coat hung open.
“Surprising the guest of honor,” she said to him.
His eyes widened. “Lucky man indeed. Have a good time.”
“Thank you, and be safe.”
He gave her a look like “Seriously?” He could toss five guys at once he was so big and muscular, and she chuckled.
The moment she entered the club, she took off her coat and checked it in by the front. She was a bit overdressed but smoothed her hands down her hips and saw the multiple men eyeing her. There were some heavies here tonight to celebrate Corrano’s birthday.
“Gisella.”
She turned to the right to see Antonio, Angelo’s personal guard.
He gave her a kiss hello and winked. “You look fantastic.”
“Thank you. I was at a fund-raiser earlier. Where’s the birthday boy?”
“Follow me, gorgeous.”
He led her through the crowd of people. She could see the decorations by the side room and more people waiting to walk in. Antonio guided her through the crowd and right to Corrano. He saw her and smiled.
“Gisella,” he exclaimed, sounding kind of drunk as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her neck. She hugged him and laughed as he rocked her side to side. “Thank you for coming.”
She smiled and felt the hands on her hips from behind. She smiled at Caprice, who hugged her and then stood back looking at Gisella’s dress.
“Hot damn, girl, you look sexy as sin.”
“Thanks. I had a fund-raising event to attend.”
“How as it?”
“Boring. I couldn’t wait to come here and hang out with you guys.”
“Good because the others are here, and so is Bella, as well as Mateus and Major’s cousin Rayanna.”
“Oh God, I haven’t seen her since our vacation in the Dominican Republic.”
“I know. She’s working in Manhattan for the next several months. That means we can all hang out a lot.”
“Fantastic.”
“Do you have a drink?” Caprice asked.
“Not yet.”
“Well come on over here. Vito and the guys are all over there at private booths and near the bar,” Caprice told her as she held onto Gisella’s arm.
As Gisella walked with her, she could see Vito, Angelo, and Morano squinting at Caprice with concern. They watched her like a hawk. Then, of course, Gisella’s eyes landed on the other Fiorre men, including Collin and Fedarro. It was pretty damn crowded as she headed over, and the men all greeted her.
“You look great,” Vito told her after kissing her cheek.
“Oh, thank you. I was at a fund-raiser at the Marquis a few blocks up.”
“How was it?” Vito asked her.
“Boring.”
“We thought so, too,” Collin stated.
He stood right next to her, and she took a sip from the martini Caprice handed her.
“Didn’t know you were heading here,” he said to her.
“You didn’t ask me if I was or not.”
“Our conversation was rudely interrupted.”
“By who?” Mateus asked.
She swallowed hard. If these men started asking her how she knew the Picatta men, it could get uncomfortable. For some reason, by the expressions on all the Fiorre men’s faces, she felt like they already knew what happened at the venue earlier.
“Emanuel Picatta,” Collin said, holding her gaze.
“How do you know him?” Mateus asked.
“Mostly business. You all know him, too?” She played dumb.
> “What kind of business would you be doing with him?” Morano asked. She could tell they weren’t happy.
“Listen, the company I work for represents a lot of different businessmen for real estate investment purposes. I know Emanuel and his brother, hell, even their cousins, because of business. It isn’t a big deal.” She took a sip from her martini.
Thank goodness they started bringing out a cake and singing “Happy Birthday” to Corrano. As the others headed closer, she started to move when she felt the arm go around her waist and Collin kept her close. He whispered into her ear, and she couldn’t help but feel goose bumps. He completely turned her on, and she swallowed down the martini. Fedarro stepped closer to her, held her gaze, and took the glass from her hand. He didn’t say a word, just started down into her eyes and walked away.
Why that bothered her and had her following him with her eyes, she didn’t know or like. She was trying to stay clear of them. Collin’s palm was over her belly, and then she felt the lips against the skin on her shoulder.
“You should be careful who you keep company with,” he said, emphasizing the word company. Did he think she was sleeping with Emanuel? She reacted, turning in his arms and looking up into his eyes.
“Believe me, I don’t need you, Collin, telling me to be careful about who I keep company with. In fact, I think you and Fedarro have insulted me twice now, insinuating I’m some sort of slut. So if you don’t mind, I’d rather stop talking about—”
As she said that, her eyes landed on Fedarro, who was making his way back over toward them, but some blonde in a short, sexy red dress got in his way, pressed her palms against his chest, and leaned up to kiss Fedarro seductively. Collin turned to look, and Gisella pulled from his hold.
“Maybe you should take some of your own advice,” she said and walked away from him. As she headed toward her friends, she made the mistake of looking at Fedarro. The blonde was staring at him in shock as he said one word but held Gisella’s gaze. The blonde slinked away but not before looking at Gisella with daggers in her eyes.
Gisella felt her temper flare. Just as she suspected, Collin and Fedarro were no different than any other men she met. They couldn’t be trusted. They were after a piece of ass, and they weren’t the kind of men who even knew how to be faithful to one woman. They were made men, and made men had their own rules and way of playing games with women. She didn’t play games, nor would she be played either.
Made Men 4: One More Time (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 2
