Owned by the mafia boss

MIA

Oh. My. God.

Sensory overload.

The mob-owned underground club, Sanctum, was a den of debauchery dressed in silk. Or in this case, Agent Provocateur. Gorgeous women strolled the catwalks. They lounged on the modern furniture and hooked their arms around much less attractive guys, wearing lingerie studded with crystals, crotchless panties, thongs encrusted in diamonds, and bras that were off more often than on.

Every variety of female strutted in five-inch platforms. The club had a waitlist of thousands of girls applying to join Sanctum because of the very stringent membership requirements for men. If you were an A-list actor and you wanted to have a threesome with supermodels, you came here.

It was black and gold, so glitzy that my reflection stared up from the marble floors. Padded leather covered the walls, which spread like a maze to hallways with room after room. Some of the doors stayed open, echoing with low male groans and high-pitched gasps.

I peeked inside a red-tinted room, where a gentleman in a horned mask was getting blown by two blondes.

“Holy shit.”

“You’re such a voyeur.” Alessio’s arm looped my neck as he pinned me to his chest, hovering a flute of champagne under my nose. Alessio kissed my ear. “For you.”

“No, thanks. Wow.”

In another suite, a shirtless man wore a lace mask and nothing else. A playful grin staggered across his face as a woman’s hands glided up his ripped torso until he yanked her into his arms-

Alessio tipped my chin toward him, laughing.

“What is this?”

“It’s where I spent most of my twenties.” Alessio’s eyes blazed as though lost in memory, and then he shook his head, smiling.

“Are we’re going into a room?”

“Maybe later.” He winked, offering me the glass again. “Have a drink. You’ll need it.”

I can’t. “I’m not in the mood for drinking.”

I had to tell him, but this was the wrong place. Frustration needled my chest because all I wanted was a few minutes with my husband. Nine weeks pregnant. A visit to the sonographer showed a strong heartbeat, which meant the pregnancy was a sure thing.

Alessio would be a father.

His intense stare drifted to my belly as though he’d heard my thoughts.

“Aren’t you meeting the New York boss? Vincent? He’s supposed to be scary.”

Alessio stood still. Colors shifted in those hazel pools. I could almost watch the gears turning as he perhaps wondered when he’d last seen me with alcohol.

“Alessio, focus. Stop staring at my tits and explain.”

“Yeah,” he purred, his gaze dragging up my dress. “Vincent is here. And his wife, Adriana. I invited them to the club because word has it they have alternative lifestyles. I thought I’d introduce myself. Make him realize that everything’s under control. He might be here to gauge if it’s worth expanding into our territory. I can’t let that happen.”

“Why doesn’t someone kill him?”

He pinched my cheek. “I prefer diplomacy.”

“I don’t understand why I’m here.”

“Because Anthony is a whiny bitch. He insisted on coming, and it’s better he feels involved. Whenever he throws a tantrum, I spend the night cleaning his mess. Distract him.”

“Babe, I see dozens of tall, beautiful distractions walking all over this place.”

“Anthony has been here before. Many times. The novelty has worn off.” He sighed, rolling his eyes. “Ask him questions and pretend to be impressed. He’ll do anything you want.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because you’re mob royalty.”

“What are you trying to accomplish with Vincent?”

“I’m testing the waters. Showing him a good time. Hopefully, he’ll fuck off to New York. Don’t worry about my end. Keep the prince-ah, there he is!”

I laughed as Alessio’s condescending tone soared into a warm greeting. Anthony leaned on a bar, chatting with the dark-skinned bartender wearing a silk rabbit mask and a thong. Alessio gripped his arm and steered him away, plucking the martini glass from his grip and dumping the liquid.

Anthony wore a bright blue suit over a wrinkled shirt. He dipped into his side pocket, and then he snorted a bump of white powder.

Wow.

He wiped his nose. “Where’s Cesare?”

“Should be here any minute,” Alessio soothed. “I need a favor. Could you hang out with my wife? She’s interested in touring the club, but I’m swamped.”

“You’re supposed to introduce me.”ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

“I will,” Alessio said, sounding weary. “After we’ve had our chat.”

“But I’m Nico’s son-”

“How many damned times do I have to tell you? It doesn’t matter. You aren’t made. Be patient.” Alessio slapped Anthony’s back. “I’m leaving you two alone. Make sure she doesn’t wander into any open rooms.”

Anthony glowered at the dismissal and shook my hand.

“Tony.”

“Mia. Nice to meet you, Tony. I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while.”

“Yeah?”

Behind Tony, Alessio waved at me. My spirits plummeted as he disappeared into a crowd of suits.

“Of course.” My gaze snapped to the coked-out Anthony. “We have a lot in common.”

“You and me? I doubt it, sweetheart.”

His smoldering voice filled me with apprehension.

“We do. No one understands what it’s like to be the boss’ kid.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I guess.”

I hooked his arm and took the lead. Anthony seemed flattered by my interest. He straightened, and his strides became more purposeful. We strolled into a black and gold lounge pulsing with dream-pop music.

I disengaged from him and sat on a white sofa. “I have questions.”

“I might have some too.”

Please don’t be a flirt. “Who goes first?”

“You.” Anthony sank into the cushions with catlike grace. He was very lithe. His attention seemed to bounce all over my features like a predator deciding which part he’d taste. Deep smile lines carved into his cheek. “Ask me anything.”

“What’s it like being the boss’ son?”

He rubbed his red nose. “You don’t need me to answer that.”

“I want to hear your opinion.”

“It’s shitty. I get the privilege, but none of the respect. I walk in my father’s shadow. He wants me to follow a different path, but I came from him. This is in my blood. I can’t change my nature.”

“You think being a gangster is all you’re good for?”

“I don’t think. I know.”

Sad. “I’d give it all to be in your position. You’re free.”

“Free?” Bitterness took a bite into his melancholy. “I can’t go anywhere without bodyguards. If I’m on a date, they come with me. Attending meetings is off-limits. I sit by and watch my college buddy take everything that should be mine. I try to please my dad, but it’s impossible. He won’t let me be what I am, and he wonders why I’ve been in and out of rehab all my life.”

“You’re not building a strong case by getting high all the time. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“Maybe if I had a girl like you, I’d clean up my shit.” Anthony’s tone was almost sweet as he stretched his arm behind me. “Worked for Alessio.”

“He’s the one telling me not to stand in front of the microwave. Freaks out when I eat anything from a can.”

“You changed him. He didn’t use to be such a square. We’d find a club like this. Grab a couple girls. Not leave until dawn. Now he’s a good boy. He wants to go home and play house.”

“He’s aged out of strip clubs.”

“That’s not it. He’s found something better.”

Oh God. Not interested. “Nice of you to say.”

“Just the truth. Since we’re candid, I’ll mention another thing. And you won’t like it, but… fuck it. My father should have given you to me, not Alessio.”

“Excuse me?”

“You said it yourself. We have more in common than you and Alessio-”

“Tony, stop. I’m married.”

Jesus. He had a lot of fucking nerve.

“Let me get this off my chest. He offered you to a Salvatore. Why the hell would he do that?”

“First, I’m not a goddamned library book. You can’t check me out and take me whenever you want.” I smoldered at his growing smile. “Second, Alessio would be so hurt to hear you talking like this. I thought you were friends!”

“We’re not. I am his pain-in-the-ass charge keeping him away from his beautiful wife. He reminds me of that every day. He hates me, and I don’t blame him. Especially when I look at you.” Anthony seemed to crumple until he reached into his pocket for more cocaine.

An alarming amount of pity swelled in my heart. It was so sad, and yet strangely charming. It was exactly as Alessio said. Anthony was excellent at drumming up sympathy. The story about never being able to follow in his dad’s footsteps freaked me out, because what if my kid ended up just as tortured?

God.

“Maybe you should go to therapy instead of numbing your feelings.”

“I’m a goddamned mess, but I’m fine with that. And I’m through following my father’s orders. No more rehab. No more falling in line. No more doing whatever he wants because he says it.”

“What does that mean?”

Dimples carved into his cheeks. “Everything.”

He leaned forward, his touch sweeping under my jaw. His nose trailed my cheek, and he ignored the firm pressure on his chest. His lips crashed into mine, hungry, violating, claiming every part of my mouth.

I shoved him off. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Sorry.” Anthony’s big eyes filled with remorse. “I’m so sorry.”

“How dare you?”

“I got caught up-”

“In what? You’re out of control!”

His gaze was beseeching, tearful. “Please don’t tell Alessio.”

I headed to the bar, grabbing the nearest drink and gargling the alcohol. I spat, ridding myself of the taste of wine coolers. He was disgusting. And pathetic.

I glared at Anthony. He sat, head in his palm. His posture was defeated, but his expression wolf-like.

A light bulb flashed in my brain.

It was an act-all of the poor-me bullshit.

Why?

I hunted for my husband’s imperial frame in backlit corners, but it was like sifting through sand. Black suits drifted throughout the maze. I stopped at a ceiling-high door with a bronze doorknob. The security guard opened it, revealing a private lounge. A gigantic, obsidian fireplace crackled on the dark brick with silver grout. Ebony was everywhere. The only pop of color was the woman in the red cocktail dress. She perched beside a man whose carnal grin widened when she whispered something in his ear. Orange light flickered over his silhouette, darkening the creases of his dimples.

“My wife likes your club.”

“I love it,” the brunette gushed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Alessio’s features softened in the fire’s glow. “Drinks are on the house. If you need anything else, ask.”

“I appreciate it.”

The men shook hands and stood. Alessio escorted them to the doors, and when the couple disappeared behind them, he swung my way. He pulled me into his arms, beaming.

“Everything went well. He’s not interested in expanding his territory. He had business in the area, so we’re good.” Alessio’s smile thinned as he took in my face, and then the lights seemed to dim as though overshadowed by his darkness. “What the hell happened?”

“What?”

“Your makeup is smeared.” Alessio’s frown darkened as he stroked my mouth and cheek. “Tell me it’s not what I think.”

Jesus Christ.

He’d sniffed out the truth faster than I could summon an excuse, because I had no interest in watching Alessio beat up Anthony. Holy shit. He wanted Alessio to know. His goal was to provoke Alessio into rage. The psycho probably thought he could win, courtesy of the dime bags he kept snorting.

“Let’s just leave.”

“Why?”

“You need to trust me.”

“You’re making me assume the worst.” Alessio’s fury grew hotter than the fire. “He touched you, didn’t he? What did that degenerate do? I’ll kill him.”

Or it could get Alessio killed.

“What did he do?”

“It doesn’t matter!” I seized his tie and yanked until we were nose to nose. “Anthony is baiting you. He wants to fight you. He’s disturbed, drugged out of his mind, and you don’t have to rise to his bait!”

“He kissed you.” Alessio straightened, cold menace curling his upper lip. “You aren’t doing me any favors by withholding because he’ll brag about it to anyone who’ll listen.”

“Alessio, he’s not worth it!”

He untangled my fingers from his shirt. “I’m done with his bullshit!”

I grabbed his arm and weighed him like an anchor.

“You can’t. He’s the boss’ son!”

A fact which seemed to fly over Alessio, because he was out for blood and nothing in the world would stop him. I tore at Alessio’s jacket. He peeled me away like a Post-it note.

“You aren’t thinking with a clear head!”

“Wait here. I’ll be back.”

“No!”

He turned, looking like he wanted to throw me over his shoulder. “I won’t be long.”

“You promised you’d spend time with me!”

“I know, Mia, but-”

“You said we’d talk, and I’ve been waiting for five minutes of your undivided attention. We’re never alone. I miss you. I can’t stand this!”

The agony inside me flashed across Alessio’s face. Then he headed for the exit.

“Alessio, I’m in love with you. I need you. Please, choose me.”

Alessio paused, his hand on the door.

“I am.”

He turned the handle and left.