Vincent relaxes as Paulie repeats that the dealer called in sick and that I offered to help. Vincent eye-fucks me as though I’m up to something.
“I’m Adriana.”
He doesn’t react to my voice. “Who brought this girl here?”
“Who cares?” A player at my table shrugs. “I’d rather look at her than those old bastards.”
The tension choking the air diffuses as everyone dissolves into laughter. Even Vincent lightens up. A smile twitches across his stony face. Butterflies in my stomach take flight, even though the smile isn't directed at me.
We resume the game, my face burning whenever I glimpse Vincent’s stare.
The games continue for hours. I fight the urge to yawn. Maria and Jackie look like they want to go, but Vincent's stern expression tells me I'll have to ride it out till the end. As players leave, they toss chips to me. Should I accept them? It’d probably be insulting not to.
They cash out next to a heavily guarded man with a metal box. I stand up to go as the room empties of people. Jackie and Maria make a beeline for me.
“Finally,” she says in a hushed voice.
"Let's go.” Jackie's voice is tight. “Now.”
Vincent lounges against the wall, talking to men beside him. He stretches, and his jacket rides up his flat stomach. Metal gleams from his belt, curving into his hip.
A gun. Holy shit.
I walk quickly, keeping my head down. We pass Vincent, his head snapping toward us.
“Hey!” he booms. “I’m not done with you.”
Jesus. What does want from me?
Vincent pushes himself off the wall and approaches us, so menacing that even Maria is at a loss for words.
“We—we were headed out,” Jackie explains. “We have class tomorrow.”
“Go,” Vincent says to Jackie. “I’ll drive her home.”
Poor Jackie is too terrified to argue. His anxious eyes slide to me before meeting Maria’s. “C’mon.”
Maria frowns, her face mirroring my panic as Jackie grips her arm so tightly that her face looks pained. “Hey!”
Vincent watches them go, satisfied. He sweeps around me and touches my upper back. Then he ushers me to a secluded area of the room.
I watch my friends leave without me. Traitors.
“I—I think I should go, too.”
Swallowing hard, I suppress the urge to run away from him. I can feel his fingers hot against my back, or maybe my skin burns at his touch. He corners me against the wall, and I’m aware that we're alone. The last people in the room are packing up the tables.
Not that I mind being cornered by Vincent. I've never had the undivided attention of a man this handsome.
“Relax. I just wanted to apologize,” he says. “Sorry for the way I talked to you.”
Well, that’s not what I expected. “Oh. It’s okay.”
“When I saw someone I didn’t recognize dealing at one of my games, I was not happy.”
“I—I see.”
A smile staggers across his face, carving dimples into his cheek. He reaches out, his finger stroking my face in a surprisingly tender gesture.
"You have no idea who I am, do you?"
“Should I?”
His touch feels incredible. All that heat combined with his seductive energy makes me dizzy.
He laughs, a deep, pleasant rumble. “No, I guess not. But you will soon enough. You're good at what you do. I watched you the whole time."
The compliment, along with his smile, burns me all the way down to my toes. He looks at me like he’s never seen anything quite like me.
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“You should work for me,” he says.
Shock reverberates through my body, and then disappointment. I expected—I hoped that he would ask me out.
“Well, I’m not—I mean I’ve never—”
“You’ve opened my eyes. My players want something gorgeous to look at during games. That’s you, Adriana."
He looks at me as though he’d love to lick my body head to toe. I’ve never experienced this before. I’m astonished. All it took was a dress and some makeup.
I love it, but he scares me. “How much will you pay me?”
I almost regret asking, because he leaves my side to gather the boxed chips and returns to me.
“Whatever you make in tips after my cut. Sixty-forty.”
He gouges the box and hands the rest to me. A small heap remains. Three thousand dollars. I desperately need the money, but maybe I can negotiate a better deal.
“That seems hardly fair.”
A shadow darkens his face. “Maddon, you have some balls.”
“I want at least seventy.”
“Sixty-forty,” he growls. “Games are twice a week. You'll make good money."
He’s right. I swallow my anger and back off. “I’m sorry, Mister—?”
“—Cesare, but call me Vince. Is that a yes?” He grins as though he already knows my answer.
“Yes—wait, how do I—” I lower my voice, “I can’t deposit this in the bank, can I?”
I know this is extremely illegal, but it's only for this summer. Just to get back on my feet.
“I’ll help you with that.”
Vincent inclines his head toward the man guarded by two ape-like looking guards. He pushes the small of my back, but I want more of him wrapped around me.
When's the last time I've had sex? A few years? God, it's like all those parts in my body are waking up again.
Vincent’s arm falls away. “Ralph. Pay her out.”
The man takes the box of chips from me and hands me several thousand in cash. I count it again and stuff it in my clutch.
Vince looks at me over his iPhone. “I need your number to contact you.”
I give it to him, trying to hide my glee, but nothing indicates it's anything but business. The wind leaves my sails.
As he escorts me to the elevator, I clench my fists and ignore my discomfort. My attraction to him blazes like a five-story fire. He’ll notice. He’ll laugh at me.
He crosses his arms and leans against the wall. “So, where we headed?”
“I live in the dorms at Columbia.”
"Big shot, eh? What are you studying?"
“Not sure.” I rub my arm and shrug. “I might major in math.”
“Nice.”
Translation: he couldn’t care less. I glance at the numbers blinking on the wall, my toe tapping the floor. Go faster, dammit.
“How did you learn how to play?” He’s still watching me, making me feel stripped bare.
“I picked it up in high school. Then I learned how to count cards. It’s second nature now.”
He shakes his gorgeous head, laughing. “You realize people get their fingers broken for that, right?”
A stab of anxiety reminds me to be careful with this man. “I’ve never actually done it at a casino or anything. I would never do that, but as a dealer it’s useful. I can tell when people are cheating.”
The elevator dings and shudders to a stop, but Vince doesn’t move a muscle. “You’re a strange girl.”
Strange? What does that mean? I get enough crap from my mother, and I don't need to be insulted by hot men.
The receptionist sees Vincent leaving with me and lifts her head. “Goodnight, Mr. Cesare.”
“Night.”
Doormen open the way out for me, and I want to march the six blocks to the nearest subway station, but Vincent slides up against me and grabs my arm. It's almost painful, the grip on my flesh.
The streets are completely devoid of people. I don't know how late it is—2 am, maybe? There's no one around. Just Vincent and his inescapable heat. His hand is a vice around my arm. If I screamed, no one would hear me.
Panicked, I try to lunge away from him, but he yanks me into his chest. I look up at his face half-hidden in the shadows. He has pretty eyes; they're big and expressive. Right now they're locked onto mine. He bends down like he wants to kiss m
e, but his mouth stops somewhere around my ear.
“You’re not like most girls your age.”
I gasp as his words hiss my ear. Electricity shoots through his fingers, which still keep me close enough to see the stubble on his chin, to inhale his cologne that wraps around me as if I've slept in his bed. Without meaning to, my hand slips inside his jacket pocket, and I seize something long— a pen.
I twist my arm and hide it as he pulls away. My heart is hammering hard—I want to make him pay for how he talked to me. His smirk widens as though he knows the effect he has on me. His hand slips from my arm and palms my back.
We walk into the garage, and his arm drops away. A black BMW lights up when he digs inside his jacket pocket. During the ride back, I think of two things:
1. I’m afraid of him.
2. I want him.
I’m always so careful to avoid people who might hurt me, so why am I interested in a man who radiates power?
I can’t figure it out.
He stops in front of my dorm building. “It was nice meeting you, Adriana.”
“You, too.”
He nods, his mouth fixed in a neutral expression, and I take that as my cue to leave. How anticlimactic. I climb out of the sleek car with a little difficulty and start walking back to my dorms, my mind buzzing with everything that happened.
“Adriana?”
He’s still parked there, watching me.
“Yeah?” I stoop to look at him through the window.
"Don't be afraid to show more skin." He smiles as if it's just a suggestion. "You'll get bigger tips. I guarantee it."
Are you saying that you want other guys staring at my tits?
Maybe he’s right. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He winks at me and throttles the car, leaving me dumbfounded.
What the hell did I sign up for?
###
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Acknowledgments
Writing this last chapter of the Costas was a struggle. It fell victim to the The Great Curse of 2020. I went through so many versions and iterations that I could fill two novels with extra scenes. I made a lot of choices in the previous books that made matching the tone of the other books very difficult.
Anthony was never supposed to survive. He was destined to die, just like the man he is based on, Nick Rizzuto Jr. Poor Anthony! I have a lot planned for him. :)
Kelley Harvey, as always, your editing is top-notch. Thank you, Christine LaPorte, Kevin McGrath, and my wonderful readers in the Bad Boy Addicts group.
I love you! Thank you for being so supportive. I couldn't do this without you.
Also by Vanessa Waltz
Sinners of Boston
Arranged
Taken
Faked
Contemporary Romance
The Cinderella Arrangement
The Roommate Arrangement
The Secret Arrangement
The Guarded Heart *as Blair LeBlanc
Vittorio Crime Family
High Stakes (Vittorio Crime Family #1)
Double Blind (Vittorio Crime Family #2)
End Game (Vittorio Crime Family #3)
His Witness (Vittorio Crime Family #4)
Cravotta Crime Family
Married to the Bad Boy (Cravotta Crime Family #1)
Knocked Up by the Bad Boy (Cravotta Crime Family #2)
Tied Down (Cravotta Crime Family #2.5)
Property of the Bad Boy (Cravotta Crime Family #3)
Owned by the Bad Boy (Cravotta Crime Family #4)
Bad Boy Empire
Hitman’s Bride
His Secret Baby
Romantic Comedy
The Mechanic (Fair Oaks #1)
The Detective (Fair Oaks #2)
Jingle Balls
The D
Royal Romance
Dirty Prince
About the Author
Vanessa Waltz loves to write steamy romances. She lives in the Bay Area with two crazy cats. To be the first to know about her new releases, please join her newsletter (no spam, ever).
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Faked: A Dark Mafia Romance Page 23
