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Pain shrouds her expression and she physically winces. Reflexively, I push Bex’s hand off my lap, and even though I don’t want to cause her any pain, a frisson of excitement zig zags through my chest at the knowledge that Francesca is jealous.

God, she’s achingly beautiful. She’s everything I love about women. Soft skin, silky hair, pillowy lips, and a decadent, feminine scent. I blatantly watch her chest rise and fall, she’s affected by my attention.

Her breasts push gently up against the sweetheart neckline of her dress. Golden skin curving against emerald satin. I almost close my eyes imagining for a second what it would be like to dust her chest with kisses and then run my wet tongue along the swell of her breasts. A tug of the front of her dress would have them spilling out so I can suck one of her nipples into my mouth. This is exquisite torture. I’m wet just thinking about it.

The alcohol has my mind taking the fantasies further and soon I’m wondering if it would be all that bad for me to take her in the bathrooms here and now.Elio doesn’t even want her, drunk Giovanna reasons. The thought of sitting her up on the counter and sliding my fingers inside her while my tongue fucks her mouth has my cunt throbbing.

But I won’t fuck her in a toilet. Not the first time, anyway. If I ever let myself have her it will be in a bed where I can take my time and worship every inch of her body.

Bex follows my stare and stiffens when she sees Francesca quickly turn away. “Why did you even invite me, Giovanna?” she asks bitterly. “You’re obviously obsessed with your brother’s little moll.”

“Don't talk about her like that,” I bite out sharply. “I told you that I wanted company, but it wasn’t a romantic thing. You said you were fine coming as mates.”

Bex rolls her eyes and stands up, “I’m leaving,” she spits, thankfully it’s quietly. “Call me when you’ve got over your crush.”

Well, don’t hold your breath because I won’t be getting over that mafia princess before there is a cold day in hell.

A wave of relief cascades over me as Bex gathers up her clutch and phone and charges out of the room. “Bye,” I call after her mildly. Thank fuck for that. I’m never bringing a date to something again…unless it’s the real deal.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Giovanna

Those of us kicking onto Peacocks pile into town cars and like a cavalcade we travel through Sydney’s backstreets.

The headrest props my head up so my gaze is directed towards the ceiling and I don’t have to actively observe Elio and Francesca sitting opposite me. That I got stuck in their car is yet further evidence that the universe is determined to fuck with me.

An inexplicable unease settles over me that has nothing to do with the couple and everything to do with the update I received from the guys on shift just before the reception concluded.

“We managed to get back on his tail,” the young and enthusiastic voice told me as I sucked on my vape just outside the hotel lobby. “He has arrived at a sort of warehouse in Chinatown -”

“In Haymarket?” I interrupted him, my pulse picking up.

“Yes. There are four blacked-out SUVs without number plates sitting outside. BMWs. Look like X7s but haven’t been able to get that confirmed yet.”

“And is there any movement? What are they doing?”

“Nothing yet. He is inside. Bit weird that a pack of bikers have cars waiting outside for them…”

“Mmmm weird for sure,” I agreed before asking him to keep me abreast of any changes and hung up.

It can’t be a coincidence that we have been celebrating at the Rydges just a matter of streets away from Chinatown. I don’t believe in those kinds of coincidences. Though if they were looking to strike against us they have left it too late. We were all gathered in one place up until five minutes ago.

My phone vibrates in my palm, alerting me to a text message. It reads:All four BMWs on the move. Armed.

Fuck. Something is going down. I have a bad, bad feeling that has my hair standing on end.

I group call Massi and Matty who are in separate cars in front of us.

“Miss us already? We literally just left, G,” Massimo’s voice slurs reminding me that none of us are in peak physical condition to be dealing with an active threat right now.

Switching to speakerphone so Elio can hear as well, I cut to the chase. “Bikers are up to something. Our guys tailed Billy the Kid to a warehouse in Chinatown and they all just piled into SUVs…armed.”

“Shit,” mutters Matty. “That’s fucking close…”

“Yeap. This could have nothing to do with us, but given I just removed the hands of two of Billy’s best pals I’d say we are high on his shit list.” I respond.

“Connor,” I get the attention of our driver, a half-Irish, half-Italian beefcake. What a combo. Christmas in his household must be nuts. “Be alert for four BMW SUVs, no plates. Possibly X7s.”