I’d found him cheating on me with not just one woman but two. Wonderful… and double the shock.
The idiot didn’t even care who I was when he started cheating on me. It was what happened when you got privileges from the king.
I wanted more than that.
More than a man who was just looking at me for my beauty and body, like this guy in front of me now, and I wasn’t going to find anybody like that in Sin City. Las Vegas attracted all manner of people. That was the first lesson I’d learned from living here all my life.
All manner of people and no one was who they said they were. What you saw was what you got and you had to make your own inferences from that.
I cleared my throat in an exaggerated manner and Mr. Green Eyes looked up at me with a sly smile on his face that brought out the dimples. Gorgeous dimples.
“Come on sweetheart, why no again?” he challenged.
I smiled and released a sigh. “Do you really want to know?”
“Oh yes… I would love to know why the woman of my dreams keeps turning me down.” He moved away from the bar, reached out and took a lock of my platinum hair, allowing the ends to curl around his finger then loosen.
We both looked at my hair in his hands. I also took the chance to scan the distinct impression left on his ring finger from a wedding band. A wedding band indent that looked like it was very recently worn.
Out of the corner of my eye I glanced my father coming down the stairs. I mentally groaned when I spotted Armand next to him. He looked over to me and frowned when he saw I wasn’t alone. I guessed I was going to have him to deal with tonight too. Unfortunately, despite my daily attempts to remind him of all the reasons why I would never go back to him he still kept trying and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
It was fine, I didn’t mind reminding him that I had no intention of getting back together and if he had a problem with it he could take it up with my father.
That would shut him up.
The tactic would also get rid of Mr. Green Eyes too.
I leaned forward and he thought I was going to kiss him. He actually moved in to me to receive the kiss but I slid closer to his ear.
“I don’t think your wife would like that very much,” I told him, speaking just above the mellow jazz music that filtered over the casino floor.
He pulled back. “My wife? I don’t have a wife.”
I chuckled and stared him deeply in the eyes. “Your ring finger gives you away. I don’t hook up with married men.”
The asshole smiled and gave me a purely sexual look. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, and what happens in Vegas, stays there.”
I shook my head in a cool calm manner and ran my fingers over his chest.
“I don’t think so. I don’t like the idea of being a side piece, and my father taught me to be second to none.”
“Your father?”
I looked in the direction Pa had gone. He was walking past a roulette table and one of the croupiers was setting out the cards.
The minute Pa looked over to me and nodded I waved and Mr. Green Eyes went rigid.
I looked back to him and saw he wasn’t just rigid but he had the fear of God in his eyes.
It was the reaction I got from most men who knew who my father was. Being the daughter of a mob boss had its perks when I wanted them. It got rid of people without further ado. Mostly, they didn’t want to end up dead.
“My father.” I flicked my hand motioning over to Pa like it was nothing.
“Ohh...” Mr. Green Eyes stuttered. “Giovanni Marchesi is your father?”
Like I knew he would, Pa made his way over to me. One arm placed around my shoulder gave Mr. Green Eyes his answer.
“Yes,” I replied with a smile.
His breath hitched.
“Everything okay here Bellezza?” Pa planted a kiss on my forehead and looked at Mr. Green Eyes who nodded slowly. He always gave me the traditional endearment bellezza either when he wanted to be subtle or make a point. Tonight he was being subtle for Mr. Green Eyes sake because he was a customer and Pa wasn’t sure yet if he was a threat to me or not.
The scrutinized look Pa gave him told me he was definitely summing the guy up and his gaze landed on his ring finger also.
Mr. Green Eyes noticed straightaway that Pa was looking at his finger and swallowed hard.
“Yes. I mean, yes Sir. Everything is fine. I was just leaving,” he stammered.
Before either of us could say anything further he scurried away like a rat leaving us.
Good.
Now if I had liked him I wouldn’t have told him who I was. And, I suppose if I had been the kind of girl not to care about the sanctity of marriage I would have gone with him to wherever without another thought.
“Jia, you know I don’t like you coming down here on the floor,” Pa chided.
I looked up at him and he released me. “Pa, if you insist on me being here under this stupid persona of managing the place, then I’m coming down here.”
The title he’d given me was floor manager, except I didn’t do anything.
I didn’t have to do anything. It was an attempt to give me something that sounded important. I knew that all too well.
He’d been doing it for the last few years. Just giving me things, giving me everything so I’d stay under his wing.
As if I could leave.
The only way I was leaving Vegas was if he said so.
I wasn’t stupid, I knew the boundaries.
But… mingling was my way of dealing.
He pressed his lips together and furrowed his salt and pepper brows. When he did that he had that classic Italian look. What Ma called his Godfather face.
I knew Pa was just being protective over me by keeping a tab on me. He didn’t want the same thing to happen to me as what happened to her.
Lately though he’d been more protective and completely overbearing.
“Are you still upset with me?” he asked.
“Yes. But me floorwalking and mingling with the customers has nothing to do with how upset I am with you.”
He frowned and looked over to Tony who was working the bar. The fact that I didn’t have his undivided attention pissed me off.
Tony had been serving a customer but the minute he saw Pa looking at him he came over.
“Sir can I get you anything?”
“Vodka on the rocks after you serve that guy,” Pa answered
Tony nodded and went away.
Pa returned his attention to me, inclined his head to the side and gave me a stern look. “Jia, I don’t want you in Europe. That’s the answer.”
Tears instantly stung the backs of my eyes. Up until then he hadn’t said no and he hadn’t said yes. Although not saying anything tended to mean he wanted to tell me no but found it hard to.
“Pa, that’s not fair. I’ve worked so hard. You know that Europe was always my goal.”
I wasn’t a floor manager, or any other title he wanted to give me. I was an artist. I’d graduated college three years ago with the goal to go to Europe. Italy was where my heart desired. Always was. I loved Tuscany and wanted to do my master’s at the Accademia delle Belle Arti Florence in Italy.
Known for being home to legends like Michelangelo and Vasari it was undoubtedly one of the finest schools in Italy and absolutely where I’d seen myself.
I had everything planned then he told me I couldn’t go yet. Back then it was yet. Now he was saying no.