by V Domino
Who the hell is that?
At my confused look he says, “I don’t know the name of today’s singers. The singer everyone is always requesting from you.”
“Oh! You mean Lana Del Rey. Okay, got it. Anything else?” I do get a lot of LDR requests. The people around here practically worship her. Hell, even I light candles for her in my mind’s shrine.
He rolls his eyes, mumbling something about kids. Crazy old man.
Louder he says, “Sera will be handling their section, so if you see her standing next to the stage it’s because they have a request that goes before any of the other requests. Understand?”
“Yes, sir—Joe! Yes, I got it. Carla said that this person...” I motion with my hand for him to fill in the blank.
“Gavriel Renzetti.”
What a sexy name. “Right. Well, she said he liked ‘Gods and Monsters.’ Should I start out with that song when they arrive?”
“Sure, kid. Just be sure to keep an eye out for Sera, okay?”
“Yeah, got it.” Blowing out a heavy exhale, I try to work out my nerves without the aid of an extra shot.
My worries were for nothing because after singing for an hour I’m relaxed. I get a small break and use it to go drink some water and sit for a bit. Carla finds me in the small changing room sitting and swiping through my phone, looking at new social media posts. I see on Medusa’s Facebook page that there are tons of tags that include me.
Medusa has a queen now, says one of the posts.
Manhattan’s very own sensual singer is singing for the Famiglia tonight! says another one.
“Here’s the shot you missed earlier.” Carla hands me the glass with the amber whiskey swirling inside.
I take the tumbler with a smile. “Thanks. Hey, what’s ‘famiglia’ mean?” I quickly down the shot. It burns but feels so good on my throat.
“Why would you ask that? Where’d you hear that word?” She sounds almost accusatory.
The fuck did I say wrong? I cock a brow in question at her.
Chuffing a little, she sheepishly smiles and says, “Sorry, I forget you’re new in this city. It’s just an Italian word that means ‘family.’ Why?”
I show her the post and ask, “Why would they say it like that? What family am I singing for?” But before she can answer, Sera pops her big head in the doorway and it takes everything in me not to throw the glass at her.
“You’re needed on stage, Sia. The VIPs are here and they want you singing now.”
The bastards just show up and demand shit to happen at the snap of their fingers? Fuck that noise. I need to breathe a bit, but when I roll my eyes and continue sitting, Carla pulls me up by the arm, saying, “They’re important people, chica, ones we can’t afford to piss off. So, get your sexy ass out there and make some money.”
Laughing, I follow her back out and look up toward the second level where the VIP section holds these important people.
First thing I notice are the bodyguards. They’re standing at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the second level. They’re big dudes too with a no-nonsense stance. Now I’m really wondering who these people are. Stepping back on the platform, I receive a few whistles and claps from the patrons. Turning to face the second level, I speak into the mic.
“In honor of our guests here tonight, this next song is called ‘Gods and Monsters’ by Lana Del Rey.”
Some cheers go up as I hit the play button on my laptop. As the music starts to flow, I put a little sultry sway to my hips and channel my inner minx. I close my eyes and start singing the first bars of the song.
Halfway through the song I become hyper aware of a set of eyes watching me. Though I know most everyone in here is watching, I still feel a set of eyes heating my skin from the side.
From the VIP section.
Slowly, while still singing, I look toward the area and my eyes land on him.
He’s the most handsome and intense man I’ve ever seen.
Never faltering from the words of the chorus, I take him in. He’s sitting in between two beautiful women who have to be twins with their identical looks, but it’s him who has captured my attention.
He’s wearing a black fitted button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He’s muscular with broad shoulders that lead to a sexy Adam’s apple that bobs as he swallows. He has a clean-shaven and defined jaw line that’s currently clenched as if he’s grinding his teeth. It’s too dark to tell what color his eyes are, but they glitter with a predatory gleam, one I can see clearly from my spot on the stage. We’re still staring at each other as I continue singing, when a movement causes me to look down at his mouth and oh, fuck, what a sight it is.
Full, kiss-me lips set in a sexy smirk that tell me without words, yeah baby, I'll give it to you.
Giving him a wink, I turn away and look back toward the crowd and continue the song.
I’ve never felt these intense feelings before. Maybe once, but it was a different sort of rush and it definitely wasn’t because I was attracted to the guy.
It was when I was seventeen and I slit a man’s throat one night while he was following a young girl home. I was waiting out the rain and hail within the hollow of a tree and when the rain stopped I saw a man sneaking from tree to tree following a girl who had earbuds in and no clue this fucking prick with a boner was about to ruin her life. I waited until he was at my tree then I jumped out and onto his back, sinking my knife into his throat. When we fell to the ground, I watched as his life’s essence fed the grass. Heart racing and pumping adrenaline through me, I got up and continued to stare.
Burning the image into my head.
Filled with satisfaction.
Yeah, that’s the only way I can explain how my body is reacting to this man’s stare.
Heart racing.
Filled with desire.
When the song comes to an end, I take a sip of water and watch Sera lean down to the sinful man. I can’t help but watch his luscious lips as he speaks in her ear, ordering another drink, no doubt. I have to ignore the spark of jealousy that rushes through me when I see him that close to her, but I honestly want to rip her ear off.
I shake my head and laugh at myself as she comes toward me.
“Gavriel would like to hear you sing more...”
I was eye fucking Gavriel, huh? Wonder what song he’ll request.
“But he also wants to see what you will pick, so do not take any requests until you’ve sung the song of your choice.”
Um, okay? That's weird.
She’s still standing there waiting for a reply, so I give her a nod to shoo her off. It’s not that I don’t like her, she’s all right, but she’s a stickler and kind of gets on my nerves.
Okay, so I’m supposed to pick a song of my choice.
Gavriel is still wearing that arrogant but sexy as hell smile. I wonder if he thinks he’ll throw me off my game. Tough luck, though. I know just the song to sing. It’s my favorite, but I hardly ever get people requesting it even though it’s an LDR song and let me tell you, from what I’ve seen, New Yorkers love the goddess that is Lana Del Rey.
Let’s see if he’ll keep smirking by the ending of this one. I plan to get in his head just as he did mine. Entering the song and hitting play, I turn and give him my full attention with a smirk of my own. Two of the three men with him—they all look similar, so they could be brothers—look between us smiling. One claps Gavriel on his back and says something in his ear.
Whatever.
Closing my eyes and swaying my hips, I start singing. When I get closer to the pre chorus, I open my eyes to give him and the audience a show by slowly going down into a squat. Keeping my eyes on his, I sing the sultry words to “Lust for Life.”
Just as I guessed, that smirk disappears, but the gleam in his eyes brightens as he licks his lips while I slowly rise again. He watches my every move like a predator watches its prey. I trail my hand down the side of my neck, over my breast, down to my thigh, and his heavy sta
re raises goose bumps along my skin.
I feel it as if it were his fingers touching me instead.
My core tightens and a fire starts to burn in my stomach. I watch him as well, noting the desire burning him from the inside out. He runs his thumb across his bottom lip. It’s so intense, this thing flowing between us, that I have to turn away before I drown in the sudden dizziness I feel.
When the last words leave my mouth, the spell is broken.
I look at Joe and touch my nose to let him know I need a quick break. He nods and I quickly exit the stage and grab Carla, dragging her with me out the back door.
Once the cool air hits my burning face Carla says, “Damnnn, girl! I’ve never seen you put on a show like that! You looked so fucking sexy, Sia, and your voice, ugh. I hate you, bitch.”
Laughing, I take the smoke she passes to me.
If there was ever a time that I needed a cigarette it’s now.
On an exhale she looks over at me. “I saw the sparks flying between you and Gavriel. Be careful with that one, chica. The Renzettis are fine as hell, but their hands are red and their souls are dark.”
As I open my mouth to ask her what the fuck she’s going on about, the door beside us opens and Gavriel steps out.
Being face-to-face now I can see his eyes are indeed black.
The glittering irises have me trapped once again as he peruses me.
“Ciao.” God, his voice.
The tenor of it is like dark chocolate and bourbon. Smooth and addictive. The Italian word rolling smoothly off his tongue. Fuck me.
Letting me breathe again, he looks at Carla and asks, “May we have a moment, please?” I swear his accented voice alone has my panties soaked.
After I give her a nod, Carla slips back inside, leaving me alone with this man who makes my insides feel like they’re melting and freezing at the same time.
I’m tongue-tied standing this close to him, so I reluctantly lean against the building, smoking my cigarette while I wait for him to speak.
I don’t keep my eyes elsewhere for long, though.
Needing to see his lips move, I look at him as he says, “You have a very beautiful and soulful voice. Who taught you to sing? Your mother?” I know he’s sincere, it shows in his eyes, but the assumption that my mother taught me anything beautiful has me scoffing.
“No. My mother and father didn’t teach me anything except heartache and abandonment.” I don’t know why I just snapped at this man. He didn’t say anything to deserve it. My head and emotions are a mess right now. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to speak to you that way. I’m just not used to any of this,” I tell him as I toss the cigarette butt and hold out my hand.
“My name is Anastasia Romano. Everyone calls me Sia, though.”
I’m not expecting him to shake my hand after the way I made a fool of myself with my temper, but he surprises me when he takes my hand and says, “Gavriel Renzetti, and don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t make assumptions like that, but I meant what I said. I’ve never heard someone sing so beautifully.”
I can’t help the blush that blooms and he sees it too, if his soft smile is anything to go on.
“Thank you. I’ve been singing for as long as I can remember. I write my own songs too. Maybe one day I can sing those for y’all too.” I cringe at my Texas twang. New Yorkers noticed my accent right away. I’ve been teased by some of the girls, but it was all in fun. I hate it, though. I’m not even Texas-bred, but it’s an accent that is very hard to lose.
His smile widens and he says, “Don’t be embarrassed. Your accent is refreshing. Where are you from?”
“I’m from Texas, but I was born here. I just moved her a couple of weeks ago. I came to find my parents or information on them. I just sing here so I can hopefully be noticed for my talents. I’m too young to work without a liquor license, so I work for tips singing.” God, I’m rambling like a fool. I’m sure I sound like the eighteen-year-old that I am. I’ve never been nervous around a guy before, but I’ve also never had butterflies swarming my stomach either.
His fingers tipping my chin up to look at him cuts off all my thoughts. His thumb pulling out my bottom lip from between my teeth makes me feel like I might faint. He strokes my lip once and then drops his hand, letting me breathe until he leans in closer. He moves my hair over my shoulder and lets his fingertips lightly touch the same spot on my neck that I had trailed my hand down during the last song.
“I’d love to hear your own songs. Maybe you can sing them for me one day?” His deep voice is suddenly husky and has my pussy throbbing. I clench my thighs as my breath hitches in my throat. Never, and I mean never, has anyone made me feel this way.
No one has ever got my pulse racing like Gavriel has with just a few moments alone.
I give a breathy “Yes, I’d love to,” as Joe comes out.
“Sia, come on, I nee—oh I’m sorry, Mr. Renzetti, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He abruptly stops and glances between us. Probably noticing how close we’re standing to each other. I’m sure my blush didn’t go unnoticed.
Fuck my life.
“That’s okay, we were just heading in.” Winking at me, he offers me his hand to lead me back inside. “I’m sure everyone is just as anxious to hear her sing again as I am.”
It’s been a few months since I’ve seen Sia sing at Medusa’s Lounge but that hasn’t kept me from thinking of her. I’ve done everything I could to get her off my mind. I threw myself into La Famiglia, buying new buildings and creating new businesses to launder our money. In goes the dirty out comes the clean. It’s simple work for me, I’ve been learning it since I gained my button into this thing of ours so it wasn’t effective in clearing my head of the sensual woman with demons in her eyes. She was perfect in every way from her haunted eyes to her combat boots.
I shake my head to stop that train of thought as I accept a drink from the bartender. My brothers and I came to Barbarity for the evening and I’ll be damned if I allow my head to be in the clouds, especially over a woman I’ve spoken to once. A woman I have no claim over but damn well wish I did.
Dammit!
I focus on the scene around me, at how much the place has changed in the years it’s been around. Barbarity is the most successful underground fighting rings in America. It was started almost ten years ago by one of our very own, Neviah “Silver” Mazzi. Yes, that’s right this fighting ring is founded and run by one of the most respected women in the state. Her father used to be a soldato for my father.
It’s a gym by day and a fighting ring by night.
Every year Silver has a big event called Barbaric Night where the year’s fighters with the most wins face off with each other. There are weight categories from flyweight to cruiserweight, in both men and women’s divisions. Tonight is that special night and I’ve placed a lot of money on Silver’s man, Twitch. Although no one knows his real name, he’s a crowd favorite. He’s undefeated and has been for three years now. His first fight was against our guy Joseph Tanner, who was undefeated until that night. Since then Tanner and Twitch go back and forth as reigning Barbaric King and tonight we’re about to find out if Twitch will be dethroned.
“Who’d you bet on?” My youngest brother, Nico, asks as we wait for the final women’s fight to start. I can see the pinched anxiety on his face. He’s been in his feelings for Camila “Jefa” Blanca for years now. Despite having Lady Boss as her nickname, she’s Silver’s right hand woman and is the daughter of the Cartel Boss, Diego Blanca. She’s also a fighter and tonight she’s up against a tough woman who is the daughter of an Irish mobster.
That’s right. Barbarity is no man’s land; a truce territory if you will. Criminals of all cultures in New York stuff the pockets of police chiefs, politicians and lawyers to keep this place what it is today and because of that loyalty, Barbarity is home to MC Bikers, Italian Mafias, Irish Mobsters, Mexican Cartels, Russian Mafiyas and even Le Milieu, the French Mob. There is one major rule for Barbarity; all fights are
handled within the cage and anyone caught breaking this rule will be punished by the bosses and will be banned from the ring for a year.
That is, if they’re not killed first.
“This fight? My money is on Jefa. She’s the quickest fighter in this category and she has the most stamina. We’ve yet to see her lose so this will be an easy paycheck.” I try soothing his worries. Him and Jefa have had their trysts in the past but Jefa is the future cartel Boss, hence her nickname, so she is unattainable unless our fathers approve the match.
All my thoughts disappear as the lights shut off and the spotlights shine on the fighter’s entrance. A Spanish rap song called Clorox by Chino El Don just as Jefa comes walking out. We’re sitting near the cage for this event so when Jefa passes by she reaches out and taps Nico on the chest. He relaxes as the crowd begins pounding their feet against the floor chanting “Jef-a! Jef-a! Jef-a!”
Watching my brother, who is usually stoic and devoid of any emotion outside of the family, smile and cheer for his woman brings my thoughts back to Sia. Even as the Irish men and women in the crowd begin singing a ballad for their girl, my thoughts are stuck on Sia’s melodic voice. Would she enjoy this? Would she want to come here and watch this or would she be adverse to the brutality and savagery of it all? I’m a betting man and my money would be placed on her loving it.
She had this darkness about her that spoke to my own. Like a lover’s whisper, her inner demons spoke to my own, saying here I am, you don’t need to look further.
I’ve never been interested in a woman past the bedroom. I have no time for the messiness of relationships and with the life I live, I have no place for a woman. La Famiglia is a life built on principles and traditions-- traditions that dictate everything, even who you’ll marry. I am the future Don of the Renzetti Famiglia so I must abide by these rules. I have to marry a woman who is untouched and has a traceable Italian bloodline. She must come from a high ranked family as well. When I was just a boy my family promised me to the daughter of my father’s underboss. I don’t remember her name but she was just a baby.
