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Barresi: Emily Trilogy: A New Orleans Mafia Romance

Page 5

by Lux Miller


  Dante steps around me, shielding me from Luca’s hateful glare. He holds both of his hands up in front of his body. “Luca, you and I both know it’s the only way. If you don’t do this, if she refuses… the Boss is not going to take it well. You’ve already defied one direct order from him. You and I both know it’s unwise to defy him again. You are the best fucking Enforcer this family has ever seen, but he will only agree to leniency for so long...”

  Groaning, Luca peers over Dante’s shoulder at me. My body is well-protected behind Dante’s athletic frame and it gives me a sense of false security. I’m staring at Luca with as much hatred as he’s pouring into his own glare. Finally, Luca grunts, “Fine. But I’m not playing this game for six months. Either the public buys it or they don’t. I can’t force it on them the way he’s forcing this on me. Three months and I'm done with this bullshit.”

  My voice trembles slightly as I speak. “What game? And what does this have to do with me?”

  Luca snaps his fingers and motions for Dante to move. Dante tenses at first, but groans and steps aside. Luca closes the gap between our bodies and slides one arm around my waist. I freeze at his brash movements, too stunned by the sudden contact to resist. He lowers his gaze to mine and says the word that will change my life forever, “The Boss wants you dead. I think that’s a bit steep and have convinced him otherwise. I have a reputation that needs fixing and you have a life that needs sparing. In exchange for your life, you pretend to be my... “

  He coughs as he chokes on the words, “...my girlfriend. It won’t be real of course, but it has to look real outside these walls. The associates will know it’s a ruse, but the public must believe it. If they don’t, there’s nothing I can do to protect you...”

  Stunned, I feel my mouth fall open as Luca lays out his demands. My lips move, but nothing comes out as I try to argue my way out of it. But I know it’s pointless anyway. He didn’t present it as a suggestion and he didn’t offer a second choice. Which means that there’s only one alternative to the arrangement Luca just offered to me as my saving grace. Either I go along with what he demands… or I die...

  FIVE

  I know that agreeing to Luca’s offer was presented to me as a choice, but everyone seated around this table knows that couldn’t be further from the truth. There is a stack of papers in front of me detailing what is expected of me for the next three months. In exchange for my life and a stipend of ten thousand dollars, I’m agreeing to pose as Luca Barresi’s girlfriend at public functions. Apparently, the man has a reputation for being a playboy as much as for being a ruthlessly efficient crime lord.

  I clear my throat as I push the papers to the center of the table. The ten thousand dollars is spelled out in black and white. The underlying threat of death is notoriously absent from the contract. “So let me get this straight. When I’m not needed, I will be free to do whatever I want, as long as I stay on the grounds of the estate and maintain a guard on my detail at all times. When you require my services, I’m expected to dress in clothing provided and behave as if we are madly in love. There will be hand-holding and some kissing required in public, but no further physical requirements. You will provide for all of my needs while I am in your service. When I have fulfilled my obligation to the mafia, you will drop me off in another city with ten thousand cash and we will never have to speak again. Am I understanding the gist of this correctly?”

  Luca nods and leans his elbows onto the table. My eyes narrow at him as I take in his dressed down appearance. His Armani suit jacket is hung across the back of his chair. The long sleeves of his crisp white button down shirt are rolled up, exposing intricate artwork. The lines wind around both of his forearms and disappear up into the shirt. Gold diamond jewelry adorns him everywhere - on his fingers, around his wrist, in his ears and around his neck. The hot pink tie he wears is distracting, but it contrasts sharply with the navy blue linen suit the man is wearing. Again with linen in summer. Do these guys not sweat?

  His slender fingers wrap around my wrist as he turns my hands over and places what looks to be a solid gold pen in my hands. I glance down at it, then back over at him. “Seriously? Even the pen is gold?”

  He shrugs and flicks his hand in the air. “The pen is not important. What is important is that you understand what you are agreeing to. If you sign this document, I will own you for the next three months.”

  I bristle at his words. I don’t like the suggestive tone he’s using to imply that I will be at his mercy or beck and call. But it really doesn’t matter if I like it or not. I have no other options. Swallowing hard, I breathe out a heavy breath. I nod, signing the document and shoving it back across the table. He gathers the papers and checks them over, then slides them into a folder.

  His voice is relaxed and an octave lower than I’ve heard it before as he adds, “My tailor will be here shortly to measure you. If you have specific needs regarding clothing, please let him know at that time. He will provide whatever is necessary for your comfort. Remember that you are playing a role. There are certain expectations for you during this time. Money is no object, so request whatever you want. Just make sure that you have something appropriate for any functions I will need to attend with you on my arm. That includes jewelry, shoes, and other accessories befitting a mafia princess.

  “As far as anyone in the public is concerned, you’ve stolen my cold heart. You've reformed the mafia prince into a fine gentleman who is respected in the community as a desirable business partner. Your appearance must be impeccable at all times outside these walls. If you require the services of a personal assistant, that can be arranged.”

  I swallow and nod. Glancing down at my wayward appearance, I wrinkle my nose. “You think I can pull off prim, proper, and pretty?”

  Luca shrugs and levels his gaze at me. With the fury gone, his eyes are darker with a tinge of blue around the outer edges of the irises. The color is startling and his gaze catches me off-guard. “I’m not sure about prim and proper, but we’ll see what we can do… God even grants miracles to mobsters…”

  He looks beyond me and motions for someone to come into the room. He stands from behind the table and walks to greet the man who has entered. As he shakes the man’s hand, I take the opportunity to sneak a glance at the man who will be pretending to love me for the next three months. If you set aside the whole ‘I have a gun and I will shoot you’ thing, he’s actually a very attractive man.

  His back is broad and though his shirt fits him exquisitely, his shoulders pull against the seams as he welcomes the man into his room. The linen trousers of his suit look like they were made for him. To be honest, they probably were. The way they hug his ass should not be legal. Then again, I get the feeling that Luca Barresi doesn’t give a damn about legality. It’s no wonder so many women in New Orleans swoon over this man. He’s an alpha male that exudes sexuality. God, if I were a betting woman, my money would be on this man being a beast in bed.

  As my eyes trail over his backside, I squeeze my legs together. My thoughts have wandered into dangerous territory. I’m so invested in checking out the goods that I don’t notice when I’m being spoken to. I’m so vacant, in fact, that I don’t even notice when Luca himself brings his face within inches from mine.

  He smirks as he barks, “Hey! Quit checking out my ass so the tailor can measure yours. There’s a charity ball this weekend and my father expects me to be in attendance as a guest, but also as a handler. We’ve been contracted to provide the security this weekend. We are doing so as a favor to the nonprofit organization putting on the ball. Their only costs will be our dinners and drinks.”

  I know my cheeks are flaming with embarrassment, but I nod and push my chair away from the table. I introduce myself to the tailor nervously. As I shake his hand, I feel Luca’s presence behind me. He rests one hand on each of my hips as he presses himself against my back.

  He nods to the tailor and motions to me. “Show off the breasts in whatever you create for her. Everyone kn
ows I like tits. Other than that, keep it classy. Legs or ass should be accentuated, but not both. My tuxedo for the event is black on black, so silver would be nice. She can choose the rest.”

  He digs his fingers into my hips slightly and I have to bite back a moan. The man is crude and vulgar, but even his crassness about my body is sending my hormones into a tizzy. Feeling emboldened, I turn to face him. “If my tits are going to be hanging out, then you’d better appreciate them. If I have to tape all this…” I motion to my upper body wildly and continue, “...into place, then you damn well better enjoy the view.”

  Luca’s mouth twists into the first thing that hasn’t been a scowl since I’ve met him. It’s not quite a smile, but rather a devilish grin that shows off his perfectly straight, dazzling white teeth. Of course his fucking teeth are perfect. What physical attribute of his isn’t?

  His breath is hot against my ear as he whispers, “I’ll be checking out a lot more than your tits.” He brings one hand up to my arm and slowly drags the backs of his fingers down my exposed skin. It takes everything in me not to melt into a puddle right now. My eyes snap closed in response to his touch. I refuse to give this asshole the satisfaction of knowing he’s affecting me this way.

  He yanks his hand away from my arm just as my body begins to relax against his. I can almost hear him smirking at how my body has betrayed my noble cause. I close my eyes as he threads one hand into my hair, tangling his hands in the wavy disaster. He tugs sharply and I yelp in pain as I crash into him. He steadies me against his body, pressing a noticeable erection against the middle of my back. Shit, does this man EVER turn off his hormones?

  “Royce… do something with this mop too. It’s all wild and free. Make it polished. Makeup too. Sensual like 1950s Hollywood. I want people to notice her and I want them to hate me instantly because she’s with me and not them.”

  The man named Royce casts a sympathetic glance at me, then looks back to Luca. “Yes sir. She will be unrecognizable when I am finished with her. Will you be requiring anything, Mr. Barresi?”

  Luca shakes his head at Royce as he lets go of me, his fingertips brushing over the top of my ass as he drags his hand across my back. “No, Royce. Just a dress for the girl. And some other garments to make her feel more at home. It would be preferable that she not wear my little sister’s clothing. Whatever she needs, make sure she has it.”

  Royce curtsies in front of Luca with a flourish of his hands, “Yes sir. Now scoot along and let the master work his magic.” Luca scowls slightly, but turns and storms out of the room, leaving me alone with Royce. The second Luca is out of the room, I turn to Royce and burst out laughing. Apparently I’m not the only one who is unable to resist Luca’s charms. Royce stared at that man’s ass for every step that it took Luca to walk out of the room.

  When I turn back to him, Royce has a hungry look on his face that his quickly wipes away. He claps his hands excitedly, “Oooh, dahling! We get to work with silver. Your dress is going to be so fetching. Now tell me princess… do we want to showcase legs or ass? Boss man says we can only highlight one.”

  I bite on my bottom lip as I think about my choices. Smirking, I ask Royce, “Which one does the master prefer?”

  He smirks and nods knowingly, “Tits and ass it is then… we’ll still get you some fabu shoes though! He’s a good bit taller than you and we can’t have you looking like you’re knee high to his crotch. Ooh that man is not going to be able to keep his hands off you come Friday night…”

  I’m sure my face gives way every thought running through my mind right at the moment, but I don’t care right now. My entire world is in upheaval. The most normal thing about my life is that I’m going to be pranced around a charity function like I’m a show pony. How did my life get so complicated? Oh right… my dad didn’t cope well when my mom died. Then he gambled himself so far into oblivion that he was murdered over his gambling debts. Nothing like a sobering reminder of the past to kill the knot of anticipation that had begun to swell in my belly.

  Royce senses my agitation, but he ignores my sudden mood swing. Instead, he sets to work. He positions my body so that he can take measurements of everything from the normal bust, hips and waist to the length of my legs, the diameter of my upper arms and the length of my back. I don’t know why he wants that last measurement, but I have a pretty good idea of what he may be planning.

  I may be short with stubby legs and thunder thighs, but my ass is banging. With all the running I’ve done for last ten years trying to avoid being caught by victims and the cops alike, you could bounce a quarter off that thing.

  Royce scribbles down measurement after measurement, clucking his tongue as he does calculations in the air in front of me. When every last part of my body has been measured, he walks over to the bag he brought with him and pulls out a book of samples. He flicks it open to the silver page and my mouth falls open. The fabric swatches inside this book are not the kind of drab cotton and polyester I’ve become familiar with in my life. These are elegant rays of moonlight captured in the softest silks and velvet I have ever seen.

  As my eyes peruse the choices, my gaze stops on a silk gossamer that literally sparkles in the light. My mouth is hanging open slightly and Royce chuckles. “Mr. Barresi will be pleased. You have luxurious tastes. That fabric will look incredible draped around your body. Ah yes, we can tape your breasts in place so that we can keep the fabric semi-sheer and accentuate everything that God gave you.”

  I snicker with a quick shake of my head. “He didn’t give me much up here…” I motion to my chest with my hand, then drop it to my backside, “... but he made up for it back here. Can you keep it flowy on the girls? Let the man see his tits. But keep it snug on my booty... because back there is a thing of beauty.”

  Royce’s grin widens exponentially. “I like you Miss Emily. I can see why he picked you for this little arrangement his Pa done cooked up. You’re a pretty little thing and you got the sass to boot. Mmm hmm… I do believe Luca Barresi has met his match. I’ll get to work on this dress and see what we can come up with to knock his socks off. You mark my words, sweetheart. You’re gonna be the best dressed little honey there.”

  As Royce gathers up his things and makes a hasty exit, I can feel a pair of eyes watching me curiously. When I turn to see who it is, I find myself staring into the face of the older man who has been guarding my door to prevent me from escaping. I wave a hand in the air and sigh, “Hey scary dude with the gun, you don’t have to stand watch over my door anymore. I’m not going anywhere. It seems I’ve sold my soul to the devil.”

  The man raises one eyebrow, his hand brushing over his hip where I’m certain I can see the outline of a gun. I was right. Picking pockets for years has turned me into a decent people-watcher. It’s wise to be able to pick your targets carefully when you’re trying to dip your hands into their pockets. I got caught a few times, but where my grace couldn’t save me, my speed did.

  He clears his throat and drops his hand nervously. “I will still be standing watch over your door. Mr. Barresi has assigned me to your personal detail. I’ll shadow you everywhere you go now. And I have a name. If you are so inclined to speak to me, please consider using it, Miss Emily.”

  My shoulders tense at the use of my own name. I give him a curt nod. “Just Emily, please. I may be playing one, but I’m no member of the royal family. Just a pauper pretending to be a princess.”

  He chuckles, a welcome sound coming out of his mouth. He motions behind him to the room into which Luca disappeared earlier. “He’s not all bad, you know. Yes, the rumors are true. He is ruthless because he has to be. He lives in the kind of world where it’s kill or be killed. Most people only know him as The Enforcer. It’s a pretty accurate description of how he can be, but he isn’t always that way. I’ve known him since he was in diapers. Give him a chance. You might find something redeemable in him.”

  I narrow my eyes at the older gentleman. “Why are you telling me this? It’s just an a
greement to make believe and convince some stuffy business folk that he isn’t a complete asshole. I won’t blow his cover, so you can quit chomping at the bit to make him seem like a gentleman. We both know better, and I think it’s best if I go into this with my eyes wide open and my expectations low… who knows, maybe we’ll both end up surprised.”

  He nods solemnly. “I know I’m just the hired help around here, but his father and I go way back. Luca hasn’t truly needed my services for a very long time, but I have stayed by his side regardless. And I will until that man takes his last breath on this Earth.”

  A sharp chill slides down my spine as the man declares his loyalty to the mob family, but especially to Luca himself. To know that he commands that level of respect from someone is both endearing and terrifying at the same time. Offering my hand to the older gentleman, I sigh. “I’m sorry for my attitude earlier. Let’s start over, shall we? My name is Emily Clark.”

  The man smiles, a genuine smile that reaches his eyes and makes him resemble a jolly old elf. He nods and shakes my hand gently, replying, “Mike… Mike Carlen.”

 

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