Barresi: Emily Trilogy: A New Orleans Mafia Romance

by Lux Miller

  SIX

  It’s been two days since my fate was sealed. I slept away most of the first day of my captivity, -er, arrangement. Yesterday, I spent the morning familiarizing myself with the layout of the house. Though neither of the brothers were anywhere to be found, I damn-near ran headfirst into a girl sneaking out of Luca’s bedroom around mid-morning. The girl seemed as surprised as I was to see another person milling about the otherwise empty house. If you can call the presence of a dozen heavily armed men empty.

  She was disheveled and her mascara had smeared enough that she could give a raccoon a run for his money. Her dress-if you could call it that-was so skimpy, it left me wondering where the rest of it was. Or if she’d forgotten it somewhere. Plus, it was inside out. I started to tell her that her tag was showing, but when she snarled at me in a bitchy tone to “get the fuck out of my way,” I decided to let her enjoy her walk of shame.

  After watching her stumble down the stairs in heels that were ridiculously too tall, I bounded down behind her. My comfortable sleep set that Royce procured me in the absolute softest fabric I’ve ever felt against my skin was a sharp contrast to her attire. And my ridiculously inappropriate monster house slippers. They're lovely. It’s the little things that can bring a girl comfort in an otherwise harsh world.

  If looks could kill, she’d have glared me into my grave. I didn't let it bother me though. I brushed past her and waltzed to the kitchen to grab something to eat. As I rifled through the refrigerator, I could hear the irritating clicking of those stripper heels and smirked to myself as I stood up. I pulled out a yogurt and slid up onto one of the barstools and watching her pout at me from the doorway.

  Ripping off the lid, I’d stuck my spoon in the yogurt and slapped it on my tongue in the most unrefined way I could possibly manage. When she’d crossed her arms over her chest, I’d just tilted my head to the side and snapped, “Can I help you?”

  The next few minutes are still a blur in my mind, but I’m pretty sure she flung a stiletto at my head and missed… thankfully. Her wild banshee cry alerted one of the dozen guards stationed inside the home to my plight. She was quickly escorted outside and kicked to the curb.

  This morning, I’m walking on eggshells so that we don’t have a repeat of yesterday. At least the brothers are home today. If something comes crawling out of Luca’s room again, hopefully he’ll deal with taking his trash out. When I was warned that he was a playboy, I thought that meant he would be trying to change that perception of himself.

  If the high-pitched squealing that persisted until early morning is any indication, he either doesn’t give a shit about his reputation or the men in this house are so used to this that nothing surprises them. I’m leaning toward the later, because he’s going to a lot of trouble in executing the charade that I’m his girlfriend. Which in itself is awkward. I had to lay in bed and listen to a girl whose voice sounded like a pig going to slaughter as she moaned his name.

  I can’t help but cringe as a shadow falls across the floor from the doorway to the kitchen where I sit, once again eating my breakfast. A wave of relief rushes over me as Dante’s face pops around the corner with a sly look turning up the corner of his mouth. “Hey. Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

  I wave my spoon in the air and shudder. “I thought you might be… another one of his… ugh, conquests. Yesterday’s was quite the mess.” Dante shrugs and walks into the kitchen, brushing past me to the refrigerator. He swings the door open and groans as he turns to stare me down. He points at the yogurt that I’m eating this morning. “You took the last one!”

  Shrugging, I push it across the counter to him. “You can have it. I’m not in the mood for blueberry this morning anyway.” Dante blinks at me for a moment and shrugs, snatching the yogurt up before I can change my mind. My mouth falls open as I stare at him, waving my hands around in the air as I attempt to protest.

  He grins and tilts the small container against his lips, squeezing the bottom to squirt the rest of it into his mouth. He walks over to the trashcan and dumps it in, then waltzes back over to the refrigerator, rummaging through it.

  Hopping off my stool, I walk up beside him. I squirm my way in front of him despite his protests. I tense as I feel each of his hands come to my hips one by one. I’m about to say something in protest when he lifts me off the floor and turns away from the refrigerator to plunk me down behind him effortlessly.

  “Hey! What the-?” Dante chuckles, ignoring my attempt at an indignant outburst. He turns around to face me holding a carton of eggs and a package of bacon. “How about I apologize with an ‘I’m a jerk breakfast’?”

  I narrow my eyes at him, my voice is on edge as I ask, “Apologize for what?”

  He smirks and points at the trash can. “For eating your yogurt. And for being a jerk the other night. Sometimes I tend to go a bit overboard trying to impress him. I’m really not that much of an asshole.”

  I laugh softly, plopping my hands on my hips as I watch him walk to the stove. Smiling, I tease, “Not that much?”

  Dante shrugs as he pulls a griddle from under the stove. “How do you like your eggs? I’m making mine over easy. Do you like crispy bacon?”

  I step across the floor so that I’m standing beside him. “Over easy and crispy are fine. I’m not picky. I may have slept under Andre’s roof, but I essentially lived on the streets. What do you mean by you’re not that much of an asshole? You don’t seem so bad…”

  Dante sets down the spatula he’s been using to shift bacon around on the griddle’s surface. “I’m a Barresi. We’re assholes by nature. It’s programmed into our genes at birth. Although, I apparently didn’t get as much assholishness as Luca. He got the lion’s share…”

  A grumbling voice from behind us responds, “Funny, Dante. Aren’t you just the stand-up comedian this morning?”

  Dante gives me a look that screams ‘I told you so.’ He glances over his shoulder at Luca standing in the doorway. Luca looks like he got hit by a Mack truck. He waves the spatula at Luca and taunts, “You look like hell chewed you up and spat you out. I told you to knock it off with all the fast women…”

  Luca groans in response and stumbles into the kitchen, sliding onto a barstool. I know I’m failing miserably at hiding the alarm on my face. I nudge Dante softly and whispers, “Is he-?”

  Dante shrugs, “He’s fine. Or he will be eventually. I imagine he’s hungover. It takes a hell of a lot of liquor to numb the kind of horrors that haunt one’s mind when you’re a contract killer by profession.” Dante waves the spatula again and turns back to the stove, ignoring Luca’s plight.

  Luca plops his head down on the counter, groaning deep in his chest. When I figure out that Dante isn’t going to do anything for Luca, I realize this is probably their normal. It’s apparently their day off as both are dressed casually. Dante’s wearing far more clothes than Luca. Whereas Dante’s wearing a tight white shirt and lounge pants, Luca’s wearing only low slung joggers that barely cling to his hips. He’s mostly obscured behind the counter, but I caught a brief glimpse of a taut body as he stumbled into the kitchen.

  Rolling my eyes at Dante’s insistence on letting Luca suffer, I nudge him, “Which cabinet has the aspirin?” He motions to one above the sink without looking up and I walk over there, struggling to reach into the cabinet. I swipe my hand at the cabinet and release a grunt of frustration as the red and white bottle stays just out of my reach. Dante groans and walks over, plucks the bottle out of the cabinet, and drops it into my waiting hands.

  “He does this to himself, you know. It won’t hurt to let him suffer a bit. He’s paying you to be his girlfriend, not his nursemaid. That alone gives you plenty of reason to let him wallow in his own misery.” I roll my eyes at Dante and grab a bottled water out of the refrigerator. Walking over to Luca, I plop both down on the counter beside his head. Directing my voice to Dante, I get snarky. “Just because he’s a self-deprecating brute of a man who deserves to have his head stuck
inside a bell while it’s rung doesn’t mean I have to treat him that way.”

  Luca exhales a deep, guttural moan that doesn’t sound remotely human. He squeezes his hands against his temples and then downs two aspirin with the water I set beside him. “Can you two not be...so loud?”

  I cross my arms over my chest as he stands up off the stool. I’m suddenly thankful for the barrier between his eyes and my nipples as I catch a glimpse of his chiseled body. Deep lines cut across his tanned skin, showing the clear definition of a man who obviously takes pride in his body. Those kinds of muscles don't just happen. Those are the kinds of muscles that take years to create. My nipples respond to the glorious sight by pebbling against my shirt. Especially as my eyes trail downward over the rock hard abs. The gorgeous indentions over each hip form a delectable ‘V’ that disappears down into the pants. He looks up in time to catch my staring, but I don’t look away. It’s pointless to try to pretend that I haven’t been standing here ogling his body.

  He smirks as the flush creeps up into my cheeks and I hate myself for caring what he thinks. Clearing my throat, I make a feeble attempt at humor. “Just uh, wondering where the rest of your clothes went…” Luca’s face flashes with something that eerily resembles hunger. Maybe his stomach has finally settled and the tantalizing smell of bacon is revving his engine.

  “They’re upstairs, where I left them last night.”

  Twitching my nose, I volley back, “Yeah. Along with the girl who squeals like a pig?”

  Luca snorts, spitting water back into his water bottle as he attempts to take a sip. He coughs several times, then swipes his hand across his mouth. “Amber does not sound like a pig.”

  Dante and I exchange glances with one another, then Dante looks at Luca, shaking his head. “Yeah man, she does. And I would know. I’ve had to listen to you fuck that girl on and off for eight years. It’s not a sound one can easily purge from their brain. Amber is…”

  A cold, shrill voice interrupts Dante, “I’m what?” I glance up to see a stunning woman with long, stick-straight platinum blonde hair standing in the doorway. Great, pig-girl looks like a freaking Barbie. She’s wearing a band aid for a dress and her heels are even worse than the first girl’s. How the hell does she walk in those things? I guess it doesn’t matter since she apparently spends a lot of time on her back.

  Dante shakes his head, his voice stiff as he replies to her, “You were just leaving. We have family matters to discuss today.”

  Amber whines from doorway, “Luca… baby, you said you were free today.” Luca visibly stiffens as Amber begins to walk across the floor toward him. He shakes his head at her and holds a hand up to signal her to stop. “Maybe you should go Amber…”

  She stops in the middle of her stride and stomps her foot, “Ugh, Luca Barresi, you’re such an asshole! And who the fuck is she?” Amber points a long, red fingernail at me impetuously. “Why doesn’t she have to leave?”

  Luca growls and Amber immediately straightens, her entire body shifting into defensive mode. “She’s none of your concern. It’s time for you to go. Come on, I’ll call you a cab.”

  Amber stomps her foot again, “But I only got one of the orgasms you promised me! You said you’d give me five. What the fuck, Luca… are you fucking her too? I hear you parade women through here like it’s a goddamn revolving door.”

  Luca balls both of his hands into fists at his sides, like he’s trying to keep himself from doing something he'll regret. He glances over at me and I throw both hands up in the air like I want no part of what’s going down. Luca rolls his eyes at me and turns back to Amber, “She’s your replacement, okay? I can only handle easy and vapid for so long before it becomes boring.”

  The loud screech that spews forth from the leggy blonde’s lips is enough to make my toes curl in my slippers. The sound grates on every nerve my body has as I slam my hands to my ears to try to drown her out. She stalks across the kitchen to where Luca is standing and slaps her hand across his face so hard that his entire heads snaps to the side. She then sticks her nose in the air and stomps out of the room. Seconds later, the front door slams, rattling on its hinges.

  Luca stands there in the kitchen, a surprised look on his face as he rubs his cheek. I roll my eyes at the amount of drama that surrounds this man. Then I dig through the freezer for something to put on his face. With the ferocity with which she hit him, it’s probably going to bruise. I locate a bag of peas and walk over to him, motioning for him to sit down on the stool.

  He surprisingly obeys and I wedge my thigh between his knees. He sighs and spreads his legs apart enough for me to slip between them. I gently press the bag of peas to his cheek with one hand and rest the other on his thigh. He snakes both of his arms around my waist and crosses his wrists across my lower back. Narrowing his eyes at me, he asks, “Why are you taking care of me? I’m a jackass.”

  I shrug, squirming in his arms as I bring my second hand up to his other cheek, brushing my fingertips over his chiseled jaw. “I won’t deny that, but I’ll tell you what. If you think this is more than you deserve, level the playing field again by doing something for me…”

  His eyes catch mine for a moment and my stomach plummets to my feet as my heart picks up speed in my chest. He brings one of his hands up to my face and strokes it over my cheek softly. His voice is quiet and low, “Name it.”

  I lick my bottom lip, and I can feel the electricity crackling in the air. He leans his face toward mine, his luscious lips just inches from mine. I don’t know if he’s going to tell me a secret or if he’s going to try to kiss me. Either way, I stop him in his tracks by pressing my index finger over his lips. “Please don’t make me wake up to her screaming your name at the top of her lungs again.”

  Luca chuckles against my finger, but nods. “I don’t think Amber is going to be a problem. She’s pissed at me. It’ll be months before she even talks to me again. She may never fuck me again. God, I’ve got to quit drinking. I make the absolute worst decisions when I’m drunk… don’t let me drink like that ever again, okay? I’m adding that to your contract. Don’t let Luca get shit-faced drunk. He does stupid shit and fucks stupid girls when he gets drunk.”

  I’m not sure exactly how to respond to his hungover demands, so I simply nod. I pull the bag of peas off of his cheek and toss it onto the counter. I brush my fingertips over the welt where Amber’s manicured hand connected with Luca’s face. There’s an angry mark there, but it likely won’t bruise. I nod as I slide my hands off of his face and down onto his shoulders, “Deal… I’ll make sure you never drink like that again.”

  SEVEN

  Royce scurries about as he hastily makes alterations to the dress I’m wearing tonight. Though the fabric is luxurious against my skin, I have no idea what it looks like beyond the folded fluffs of fabric that he brought along in his satchel. He hasn’t let me take even a peek in the mirror since he literally sewed me into the dress an hour ago. I half-expected the fabric to be itchy and make me want to claw my skin off, but it’s actually the opposite. Not only is the silk incredibly soft, I can’t even feel the hundreds of beads he’s sewn on by hand. I don’t know what kind of deal the man has made with the devil, but they clearly have a working relationship.

  He takes a step away from me and claps his hands excitedly. “Oh baby girl, you look like God himself carved you from the finest ice to ever freeze on this Earth. This fabric was made for you. Luca’s going to just die when he sees you.”

  I let out a nervous breath as I try to peek over my shoulder to steal a view of the gown. He tuts and grabs my face, turning my gaze back to his. Waving his finger in front of him, he scolds me. “No ma’am, not yet. You can’t see my masterpiece as a work in progress. It will ruin the effect of the grand reveal. Now be still so I can finish accentuating your ass as requested.”

  My nose twitches as Royce flits around to my backside, popping his hand against my ass to get my attention. “Posture my lovely, posture. Straighten that back. Y
ou can’t carry this dress all swayed out like that.”

  My posture instantly stiffens, my shoulders thrown back and my back uncomfortably straight. Royce cups his hands over the globes of my ass, but his touch isn’t sexual. Far from it, in fact. I’m sure he wouldn’t enjoy my ass even if I wasn’t already claimed by Luca for the next three months. He pushes and prods my flesh, adjusting the fit of the dress as he does. His voice tinkles as he nods in satisfaction. “Oh, girlfriend. Your ass makes this dress look even more expensive than it was. We’ll be showcasing this spectacular thing every chance I get. You don’t even need me to make you look good. I’m just the lucky designer that gets to showcase this thing of beauty.”

  Glancing over my shoulder at the man, I shake my head. “You sure know how to butter a girl up. If more men talked to women like you do, there’d be a lot less divorces in this world.” Royce shrugs, but a coy smile lights up his face as he nods. “I imagine you’re right. Too many men don’t know what they’ve got until they lose it. You make your woman feel like she’s your queen and she’ll never leave. Women are this world’s most precious natural resource and too many men are too dumb to realize it. Now, turn around and behold my triumph!”