“Why can’t you?”
“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
“You made a room of strangers ecstatic. They’re still watching you. Maybe you belong on stage, Carmela.”
Carmela looked how she did outside. The bruschetta crumbled in her fingers. She wiped them on her napkin, wide-eyed.
“What do you mean?”
“You could do gigs at my club. I throw black-tie events every month. Interested?”
“Oh my God, yes. Yes, I’d love to.”
I turned to the food, but she grabbed my wrist.
Her eyes blazing, she pressed her mouth into mine. She kissed me in a way she never had before. An electric current passed through me, her aggression stirring my cock, awakening feelings that should’ve stayed dormant.
We parted. She crushed her lips into my cheek until I halfheartedly pushed her away.
“All right, settle down.”
“I can’t help it. It’s what I’ve always wanted.”
I toasted her. “To your new career.”
She melted. “Thank you.”
“No skin off my back.”
“I owe you. I wouldn’t have put myself out there if it weren’t for you.”
“Are you kidding? I thought you’d fall on your face.”
She sipped her wine. “Joke’s on you.”
I couldn’t stay mad at her. “I got my ass handed to me.”
“I like a man who admits defeat.”
“Yeah, well. I admire a woman who proves me wrong.”
Carmela’s cheeks went pink. “I never know where I stand with you.”
I dabbed her finger in the pesto sauce and licked it off. “Let’s go home. I’ll show you.”
Carmela wouldn’t leave my head.
I imagined her tits filling my hands, her ruby-red lips milking my cock, how I woke up with her thighs splayed over me, and how she’d tasted mild and sweet. Her mouth and pussy—the way I’d gone back and forth. She’d loved it so much I’d done it again this morning.
I’d also taken a picture of Carmela, fast asleep in my sheets. I looked at it as often as a teenage boy with a crush.
Giving her a gig at Sanctum wasn’t an act of love. I was placating the wife. Feeding her a fantasy. I didn’t even mind being upstaged at my challenge. I respected her for turning the tables on me without throwing a fit. She had a lot more guts than I gave her credit for, and I liked her as a role model for Matteo. He needed a mom who didn’t throw tantrums. Yeah, she’d fucking lied, but that was a week into our new marriage, and she was protecting Mia. I could forgive that.
During the post-orgasmic bliss of last night and the haze between waking, I was at peace. That’s how I stayed until I arrived at Sanctum.
Julian wanted to be anywhere but here.
His face was pinched with fatigue, his normally clean-shaven jaw glistening with stubble, and I had to talk to him about his wrinkled shirt. An employee of Sanctum couldn’t look like he’d just rolled out of bed.
“Is there a reason you can’t pick up an iron?”
His mouth twisted. “My kid was sick, and the nanny was late. She had a car accident, so I didn’t have time. Is that all right with you?”
“Your eyes are bloodshot.”
“From working nights.” Julian raked his hair and sighed. “Can’t complain about the scenery, though.”
I’d never explained that I met his sister here. He had no idea she was a hooker. Serena told her clueless family that she was an actuary, which was hilarious because the only numbers she knew were the grams of heroin to get high.
I was courting disaster by having Julian at Sanctum. Someone would bring up Serena, and the truth would wreck him.
“I did it for years. Suck it up and don’t get hustled by the girls.” I glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall. “I need you to do me a favor.”
Julian sagged into the chair and released a gigantic sigh. His attitude was ungrateful, considering I’d paid for the clothes on his fucking back.
“Perhaps you need another reminder of why you work for me.”
Julian’s lips thinned before he pushed out a barely audible no. “You don’t have to be such an asshole.”
Julian’s short-lived defiance flared out like a dud. That was the way he was—an easily cowed loser who folded at the slightest pressure. His entire family was full of weak character.
“My wife will perform at our black-tie events from now on. Give her anything she needs. Turns out, she’s a phenomenal singer.” A faint glow of pride warmed my chest. “She can do whatever she wants, so long as the vibe is good, and people are signing up for memberships.”
“Your wife is working here?”
“I warned her about this place.” That didn’t mean I trusted the horndogs from hitting on Carmela. “Keep an eye on her.”
“Okay.”
“There’s something else.” I slid a large mug shot of Carmela’s ex across the table. “Be on the lookout for this man.”
“Who is he?”
“Biker scum. He goes by Crash.” I tapped the photo, dragging his attention to me. “This is important. You see him, you call me. Immediately. If he attempts to leave, stall him. Give him everything. Comp his drinks and girls. Drop to your knees and suck his cock. Don’t let him leave. Got it?”
“Michael, I’m not a gangster. I’ve no interest in being involved. You should use one of your soldiers—”
“Man the fuck up. I’m not asking you to kill him. Just make him stay. “
I doubted Crash would show up here, but I had to prepare for any possibility.
“All right.”
“If Carmela is here, get her somewhere safe. She can’t run into this guy. Understand?”
“What’s this about?”
“The less you know, the better.” Julian opened his mouth, but I waved him off like a Sanctum girl. “And change your fucking shirt. I have extras in my closet.”
Julian mumbled something indistinct as he shuffled from the room. My gaze fell on Nick Smith’s dead-eyed mug shot. I’d put a hefty price on his head. It was only a matter of time before someone gave him up.
Since Carmela told me the whole story, I’d been consumed with vengeance. The gossip surrounding Carmela and Alessio’s breakup never mentioned a biker or an eight-month captivity. Alessio had kept every sickening detail on the down-low, discouraging any mention of Carmela.
He’d glossed over the incident so thoroughly I’d pushed it from my mind. She claimed he’d done it to spare her humiliation, but that was bullshit. Alessio was a selfish dick. He didn’t want to look bad.
Why hadn’t he killed Crash?
Why the fuck didn’t he fight harder for Carmela?
I needed Alessio back.
I had a lot of questions.
Twenty
Carmela
I stepped off the stage.
Bartenders applauded between serving drinks. Men whistled and clapped. Although I’d stumbled through a few of the lyrics from sheer nerves, I’d finished my first set.
Unreal.
Boundless energy zipped through my body as I made a beeline for the ebony bar. I was just the opener for the main act, but that suited me. I needed the practice. Singing in a dive was nothing, but performing at a high-class establishment sawed through my spine.
My hands shook as I reached inside my purse.
“You need a drink.” A masked stranger thrust a tumbler filled with amber liquid near my elbow. He was old enough to be my grandfather. “What’s your name?”
“Carmela, and she’s married.” Julian’s grave tone cut the air as he pushed into my side, channeling a jealous husband vibe.
“My mistake,” the man said, turning away.
My husband’s ex-brother-in-law raked his thick blond waves.
“You could’ve let me handle him.”
“Yeah, but Michael gave me specific instructions. Some guys can get super creepy.” A wide grin staggered across Julian’s han
dsome face. “I had my doubts, but you were amazing.”
A ripple of warmth ran through me. “Really?”
“You’ve got pipes, girl.”
“I might change the key for ‘Someone to Watch Over Me.’ I think it was too low.”
“No, you’re perfect. Your voice is clear as a bell.” He leaned against the counter, ignoring a naked blonde making eyes at him. “You’re too classy for this place.”
“Eventually, I’ll upgrade to more intimate lounges, but this is a decent start.”
I didn’t mind that it was a sex club. Nobody would bump into me here, so it didn’t matter if I screwed up, and Julian was amenable to my requests. We hadn’t spent much time together aside from the occasional one-hour playdate, but he was easygoing.
I didn’t know why Michael had such an issue with him.
“How’s Michael treating you?”
“Good. The kids are great, too.” I fingered my dress, unable to fight the rising flush from claiming my cheeks. “How’s your daughter?”
“She’s with her mom for the week.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose and yawned. “Damn. Graveyard shift is tough. I have no idea how Michael did it for so long. He used to work nights while my sister took care of the kids. He’d sleep through the mornings, wake up around noon, and spend the day running after Mariette before having to do it all over again.”
I sipped the drink as grief seemed to pour from Julian.
He blinked, his voice tight. “Does he ever mention Serena?”
“Never.”
His lip curled. “Of course.”
Truthfully, I was dying for the whole story. I’d heard wild tales from Mia. “What was she like?”
“Beautiful. Like you, in that department. She had this ridiculous laugh. She could be warm and gracious, but she was also selfish. Entitled. Greedy.”
“Michael hates talking about her.”
“I’m sure he’d like to forget she existed, but those children are still half my sister.”
I palmed his shoulder. “So you know, I’m not trying to replace her. I encourage the kids to talk about her. Mariette has a memory box. I want them to remember Serena.”
He smiled, his eyes gleaming. “I hope he doesn’t treat you the way he treated her.”
“What does that mean?”
“They had a volatile relationship. Lots of fighting. I love my brother-in-law, but he can be harsh. My sister called me all the time, crying. If you need help, ask. I’m a phone call away.”
“Thanks.” My skin prickled at his somber tone. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“What’s that?” A jacketed arm slid across my waist, tugging me into a man’s body. A bundle of tulips wrapped in cellophane slipped into my hands. Then a smoky voice tickled my ear. “Bravissimo.”
Heat blistered my lips as Michael’s kiss burned me from the inside out, and then he faced Julian, radiating aggression.
“Is there a reason you’re standing here?”
Julian sighed and murmured a goodbye. Michael watched him disappear in the sea of black jackets. His wolf-like stare followed Julian until I grabbed his tie.
“Why do you have to be so rude?”
He pinched my cheek. “He needs to be knocked down a peg.”
“No, he doesn’t. He’s a nice guy.”
“That’s what you said about me in the beginning.” Michael bumped his forehead on mine, grinning. “You still like nice guys?”
“I care about how you treat people. I don’t want to be known as the wife of the jerk.”
“You already are.”
I growled. "Why do you hate Julian?”
“I don’t respect him. He’s a sarcastic, ungrateful fuck.”
“Would it kill you to tone it down?”
“Probably not, but I won’t.”
He cupped my cheeks.
Heat rippled up my neck. “Why’s that?”
“You like me how I am.”
“Oh, I like you?”
He smiled. “Yeah.”
He’d come a long way from my first night. He’d defended me from Nick. He’d gotten me gigs in a club. He would eventually give me a baby. He gave me hugs, texted silly emojis, cooked me breakfast, and showered me with small acts of kindness. Something warmer than affection coated my heart when he held me.
I lifted the flowers to my nose, inhaling their scent. “How did you know they’re my favorite?”
“Easy. You picked them for our wedding.”
“You remember that?”
“Hard to forget anything since you came into my life.”
I tipped my head and kissed him. He met my pressure with a flurry of hot strokes. His sigh caressed my mouth. Then he pulled away, eyes closed as though he savored my taste. His expression broke into a lazy smile.
He hooked my elbow and dragged me from the guests mingling with half-naked women. He stepped into an empty, darkened hall where open doors beckoned into rooms.
“You’re nice today.”
“You and that damned word.”
He grabbed my waist and pushed me into a room. A thrill rushed down my spine as he backed me against the wall. He slapped my arm against the concrete and fastened a leather cuff around my wrist.
“I’m crazy about you, Carmela. That’s why I’m nice.”
Sweet Jesus.
A second jolt shot through my ribs.
Did he mean that? Was this part of the sex? I assumed the playful banter started and ended in the bedroom—but he brought it to Sanctum. He looked at me like I’d hung the moon in the sky.
My mouth went dry as I put it together.
His passion reminded me of another man.
Nick.
Twenty-One
Michael
The devil makes us sin, but we like twisting in his grip.
My mother said that all the time. I considered it hand-me-down nonsense, but I was never sober long enough to string two thoughts together. I didn’t understand it until I stopped using. Once the withdrawal plunged me into constant migraines, all I could think about was taking more.
I couldn’t function without drugs. I’d let them consume me, destroying everything I liked about myself. I never realized how badly I’d wrecked my body until I quit cocaine. The kids saved me from self-destruction, but another devil was waiting in the wings.
Vengeance.
I’d gotten Crash’s number.
Common sense dictated I shouldn’t contact the guy I would kill, but the PIs I’d hired weren't finding the fucker. I needed to know which rat-infested whorehouse he slept in so I could throttle him.
I wanted him angry.
I hoped he’d fuck up and show his face somewhere. I opened my burner phone and dialed. My thumb hit the green call button before I’d composed myself.
It rang once.
“Crash.” A toneless voice answered.
“This is Michael.”
“Costa. How’d you get this number?”
I smiled. “Don’t worry about that.”
“I got nothing to say to you.”
I had plenty. “How’s your mouth? Still healing?”
“Does it bother you she was sucking my cock two months before she said I do?”
“We never dated, so there’s no blow to my pride. You know, she didn’t want me, either.” I wheeled in my chair, looking out the window. “But at least I was man enough to keep her.”
“I didn’t lose her.”
“You did.”
“Just because I like the chase—”
“I beat you. She's married to me.”
“It’s not over yet!” he bellowed like a wounded animal. “You’re the fuckboy. I’m her forever.”
“You’ve got that backward. She’s wearing my ring. We’re building a life together. We’ll have a baby. You’re a douchebag rapist. A burnout loser. Biker scum.”
“Give her back, you piece of shit!”
“I’ll torch your bike and throw it into the Bay before I let you t
ouch her.”
“Shut your fucking mouth, or I’ll kick your teeth down your throat and shut it for you—”
“I will find you,” I growled into the receiver. “I'll slip into your house while you’re sleeping and gut you. Before I do that, though, I’m banging my wife.”
“I’ll murder your whole guinea family you fucking dago—“
I ended the call. Then I cracked the case before hurling the destroyed phone at the wall. Threatening my loved ones hit a sore spot.
I left my office as Carmela’s footsteps thumped the staircase. She disappeared into our bedroom. I creaked open the door, lured by the sound of the shower. My gaze landed on a pair of heels beside the bed, crumpled panties, a bra. I caressed the velvety pads, still warm from cradling her tits. My cock stiffened as a rush of heat surged to my groin, and then I marched to the bathroom.
Carmela stood behind the half-fogged glass. The spray washed her neck and shoulders. I drank in her tanned curves, every cleft and dimple, her teardrop breasts, the graceful arches that were forbidden to other men. I thought of Crash, how he’d once coveted the same woman and gained her trust, only to defile it and inflict harm on that body.
I needed to execute that bastard.
The door clicked as it latched.
Carmela’s head turned. Her lips parted, taking me in before she faced the showerhead. She lathered soap, massaging her scalp, streams of white foam running where my hands ached to touch.
I ripped my shirt off and undid my belt, stepping out of my slacks and briefs. I stepped into the shower's steam. Carmela’s brows twitched when I entered the jet of water.
Things were better between us.
I’d wake in a vanilla cloud, with her arm flung over my chest. Sometimes it was all I could do to not say the three words begging for release, but I’d only dented her armor. If I told her, she’d panic. Carmela’s thick walls shot up whenever I hinted at having stronger feelings. It had something to do with Crash.
I massaged her shoulders.
Carmela let out a ragged sigh, backing into my embrace.
“I don’t tell you how beautiful you are often enough.” I caressed her olive skin and kissed her shoulder. “Biggest crime I’ve committed.”
Taken: A Dark Mafia Romance Page 13
