After two more songs, Zander finally stood. “You had your money’s worth, now get the fuck out.”
Dominic chuckled, the epitome of cool, calm, and collected. “I’ll give you whatever price you want if you let me fuck her, right here.”
I froze, his offer echoing through my skull.
“You couldn’t afford her.” Zander laughed, but nothing about it sounded amused.
“Try me, DiMarco. I think you’ll find I can be very—”
“Not tonight. But stop by again, and perhaps we can do business. Cait, go wait over by the bar.” Zander dismissed me as if I was nothing.
Nobody.
Humiliation stained my cheeks as I went to the small bar in the corner of the room. A minute later the door opened. I glanced over just in time to see Dominic disappear into the stream of light.
When the door closed again, Zander was looking right at me. “Come here,” he said, crooking a finger at me.
I went to him, hardly surprised when he curved his hand around the back of my neck and held me there. “You did well tonight, dolcezza. Maybe I should consider putting you on the roster again.”
“I… I’d prefer not to dance.”
“But you’re so good at it.” His eyes gave nothing away, which unnerved me. “He offered two thousand dollars to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around his cock, dolcezza.” Zander leaned in, his warm breath fanning my cheek. “Something tells me he’ll come back with a higher offer. Would you like that, Cait? Would you like him to pay all that money to fuck you?”
“You… you know I wouldn’t.”
“Right answer.” Zander’s fingers flexed around my neck, yanking my head back to leave me completely at his mercy. He ran his tongue along the seam of my lips before kissing me. Claiming me.
“You’re mine, dolcezza. But maybe I’d be a fool if I didn’t consider making a buck or two out of you. With Marchetti breathing down my neck, business is harder than ever.”
Oh God.
He meant it.
Zander meant every word.
And something told me, if he sold me to Dominic for sex, it would just be the start of a long line of negotiations.
Negotiations that wouldn’t end well for me.
Chapter 2
Matteo
“What’s up with you?” My sister nudged my sneaker with hers. “You’re moping.”
“Am not.” I folded my arms over my chest, in a totally non-mopey kind of way.
“You so are.” She rolled her eyes. “Is it because Enzo and Nora are in New York, and Nicco and Ari are… doing whatever newlyweds do?”
The humor in her voice made me lift my eyes and glower at her. “Go away, pulce.”
“Aww, don’t be like that, Matt. I’m only busting your balls.”
“Hey. Language.”
“Jeez, Dad.” She poked her tongue out at me. “You know your problem?”
“No,” I sighed, “but I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.”
“You need to get laid.”
“Arabella!” I shot forward, glaring at her. “I swear to God, if you don’t—”
“Oh my God.” She fell about the chair, laughing. “You should see yourself.”
I loved my sister, something fierce, but she was a real pain in my ass sometimes. Even more so since our cousin Nicco got married. Part of me got it. We were young. Too fucking young to be wifed up. But what Nicco and Arianne had… it was something rare. It was that once-in-a-lifetime kind of love.
“Seriously though, Matt. There must be someone you like. Verona County is a big place, and it isn’t like you don’t get around.”
“I just haven’t met the right girl yet.” I gave her a dismissive shrug, pulling out my cell phone and absently scrolling through my messages.
It was true—I hadn’t found the right girl. There had only ever been one woman to catch my eye and she’d forgotten about me the second I walked out of her apartment after the best sex of my life.
Shit. It had been almost a year ago now, and I still couldn’t get that night out of my head.
Scrubbing a hand down my face, I stood. “I’m going out.”
“Out? But I thought we were going to hang out.”
“Change of plans, pulce.” I rubbed her head, and she swatted me away like a fly. “I need a drink.”
Something strong.
L’Anello’s was busy for a Sunday night, but then it was Valentine’s Day. Guys were out to impress their girlfriends, and girls were out to try to score the man of their dreams.
Maybe this was a bad fucking idea.
“Matteo, what’s up?” Billy, the bartender, headed in my direction. “No hot date tonight?”
“You know how it goes, Bill. Too many fish in the sea.”
“A guy like you could have your pick of the bunch.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to hit on me,” I joked.
“In your dreams, my friend. I’m as straight as they come. Usual?”
“Yeah, make it a double.”
“Sure thing.”
I turned around and leaned back on the bar, scanning the room. A couple of familiar faces tipped their heads in greeting. Most of the clientele were couples, sitting close together, staring dreamily into their date’s eyes.
A pang of jealousy cut through me.
I’d never had that.
Never really considered I could have it. Sure, my name was Matteo Bellatoni, but I was still a Marchetti by blood. My life, my loyalty, and my future belonged to the Family.
Finding a good woman to accept that, to accept everything that came with being a mafioso was no easy feat.
Except, my cousins—my best friends in the entire world—had both managed just that, leaving me to play fifth wheel to their relationships.
It sucked.
Big time.
But it wasn’t like I could move on anyway. No, I was still hung up on the Irish beauty who had stolen my heart that night in Providence all those months ago.
“Get a fucking grip,” I muttered to myself. I was a twenty-year-old guy for fuck’s sake. I had the world at my feet. Good friends, good family, a job that would never see me go without.
“Double whisky on the rocks,” Billy said, and I turned around, accepting the glass from him.
“Thanks.” I knocked it back, downing it in one. “Hit me with another.”
“Shit, man. It must be bad.” He smirked and I flipped him off.
“Matteo, that you?” Jimmy, the owner of L’Anello’s, strolled over to me, holding his hand out. We shook hands and he flagged down Billy to bring us another round of drinks.
“Alone?”
“Yeah, Nic’s having dinner with Arianne, and Enzo is—”
“With his woman in New York. I remember now. Sucks to be us, right?” He clapped me on the back, and I faked a smile. Jimmy was a middle-aged, balding man with a missing tooth and crooked smile. My sex life wasn’t exactly happening, but it wasn’t that bad, not yet.
“Speak for yourself, Jimmy,” I said. “For all you know I could be meeting a hot date here tonight.”