“The famiglia jeweler created it.” Rocco had waved the issue off, drinking a glass of whiskey. He was the ruthless head of his own branch of the family, and his father was one of the most merciless men Italy had ever seen. Yet Rocco loved weddings and a good celebration. “It has already been taken out of your pocket. Your wife kept her end of the bargain. We are even. A favor for a favor. Let us not discuss this on your wedding day, ah? Business should be kept in the office.”
The Faustis had a jeweler on demand. The jeweler’s family went way back with theirs, and they worked solely for them. Since I was connected to the name, considered family, he worked for me, too. I had a tab.
Mariposa seemed to understand a favor for a favor better than anyone. It was the only rule she seemed to have. Kindness for kindness—nothing owed. Except for me. She owed me her life. And not long ago—I lifted my watch, checking the time—she had vowed it to me. But for her to approach a man she knew would expect something in return, usually at a high cost, rubbed me the wrong fucking way.
“Have somewhere you need to be?”
The car shimmied and I turned to look at her. Her eyes almost glowed in the darkness. The gold in her eyes, in her hair, and in her skin all seemed to complement each other. Her lips were soft and pink, and when she smiled, almost shyly, betraying the defiant streak in her, I met her eyes again.
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh.” She drew the breath out. “You’ve been distracted ever since dinner. I tried asking you where we were going a minute ago, but you didn’t answer. Then you looked at your watch.” She leaned over, studying it. Her close proximity made air move between us, and the sweet smell of her made me lick my lips. I knew she was trouble the moment her scent drifted underneath my nose at The Club. Pheromone phenomenon and all its magical bullshit. It leaves little control to the one jonesing to inhale someone’s skin like a drug. “For all your millions, you need a new one. That one has rust spots on it.”
I shrugged, the white button-down shirt tugging at my shoulders. “Some things are not worth trading in, no matter how old they are.” I pointed to the building we were slowing in front of. “We’re home, Mariposa.”
“Home,” she repeated, turning to face the window. “You live next to a fire station! Sweet. That’ll come in handy when I cook you dinner.” She became quiet as Giovanni hit a button on the dash and the garage door lifted. “You own this entire building?”
“Mmhm.”
“It’s not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“The bat cave?”
“How do you know about the bat cave?”
“Keely’s brothers. I was over once when they watched that movie.”
I gave a low laugh, burying the thought of Harry Boy further down. “Not a place shiny enough to blind you?”
Why did the fucker still affect my words?
She narrowed her eyes at me. “No, I just thought…something in Manhattan. A penthouse.” Then she grinned, my words sinking in. “Still, this is far from a paper house.”
“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house down.”
“The big bad wolf dressed in a fine Italian suit.” She touched my hand, her fingers as soft as her lips, where the wolf tattoo seemed to snarl underneath the lights of the garage. “I should’ve known.”
Her eyes drifted to my lips, then back up to my eyes, and when she couldn’t hold my stare any longer, she started to fiddle with my tie. Nervous hands, like flitting wings. I wanted to feel them against my skin, around my cock, caressing my balls.
She cleared her throat. “Are you going to show me around?”
I knocked on the window once with my knuckle and Giovanni appeared, opening my door. I told Mariposa to stay put in Italian, and just as she had done at City Hall, she seemed to understand without me having to translate. I walked around the car and opened her door. She took my hand and stepped out, still holding the dress up.
“I know why you bought the entire building now.” She looked around. “You needed the room for all of your cars.”
I squeezed her hand, feeling the tremble in her bones, leading her inside of the building. It didn’t seem to be a conscious reaction, but when we entered, she squeezed my hand harder.
“Fucka me,” she breathed out, peeking in. “I’ve never been in a place so…big.”
I showed her around, giving her the grand tour, but at the end, I could see that she had something on her mind. She hadn’t said much.
“What is it?” I stopped in the closet of the master suite. “Don’t get bashful on me now.”
She dropped the hem of the gown and shrugged, and then she tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s beautiful, Capo.”
“You can change anything you’d like. Take it apart and put it back together again.”
She nodded but said nothing else.
“Let me show you something,” I said.
“More?”
I grinned. “Watch carefully.”
Her eyes were glued to me as I pressed buttons on my watch. The back wall started to move silently, slipping in front of another wall, and the space behind it opened up. It looked like an elevator. Cold. Sterile. A metal wall stood on the other side. I put my arm out, gesturing for her to step inside. She hesitated, but only for a second. After we stepped into the space, I closed the door in the master closet. A second later, I opened the other side and gestured for her to step out first.
“Okay,” she said, her eyes wide. “You do have a bat cave. A secret door.”
The laugh that broke free from my chest sounded shredded. “Not exactly. This is the fire station.”
“Yeah, but it’s been redone. Totally redone. It looks abandoned from the outside.”
She stepped up to the glass railing, looking out over the lower level of the house. I’d had it redone for her. No one knew it was mine. As far as anyone knew, it was an inactive, abandoned firehouse.
The other side was cold, with sharp lines. This side was for her: warm colors and soft furnishings. Numerous butterfly pictures hung on the walls. It didn’t fit the exterior, but rarely did what we see on the outside fit the inside. I had one of my aunts speak to a decorator. She gave them an idea of who Mariposa was, from what I had told her, and the woman ordered everything. I took it from there.
“This is your home, Mariposa. The other side, that’s for show. If we have guests over, dinner parties, that sort of thing, we entertain on that side. This side is for personal use only. Seven people, including us, know that this is where we live.”
“It’s more than I could’ve ever imagined,” she breathed out.
“I’m glad that it pleases you.”
“Who are the other five people that know about the secret house?”
The secret house. I almost grinned. “Rocco, my aunt and uncle, Rocco’s brother Dario—he’s an architect—and Donato. He’s head of Rocco’s security. You’ll meet them soon enough, at the wedding in Italy.”
“If no one else knows, how did you do all of this?”
“Dario helped me with certain aspects. He put some hours into it. The rest—” I lifted my hands “—I’ve been working on this place for five years. All supplies came in through the other building. I’ve never lived here until now.”