Page 29 of Always Mine
I stand and quickly make my escape before the tears threatening spill over and wipe away any trace of my fake smile. I catch a glimpse of Marco’s expression out of the corner of my eye as he tracks my exit. Regret, concern and something else that looks a lot like what I saw the night he kissed me flash across his face. Perhaps he does care a little more than he dares to admit and that makes me feel like my heart might explode and break all over again, because it’s a little too late.
Sensing I’ve taken a trip down memory lane, Marco traces feather-light circles on my inner thigh, to bring me back to the present. Around and round Marco’s fingers go and I fight not to shut my eyes and just surrender to the sensation. To get lost in the electrifying memory of the illicit things we did in the DJ booth, and let my mind race with the possibilities of what’s to come. I turn to face him and find he’s already looking at me, heat flaring in his green eyes to match the way my skin sizzles under his touch. It feels like a stolen moment in a room full of people. It’s not just Luca’s defiance or Marco’s clear displeasure at our surprise dinner guest that has Dad’s blood pressure on the rise. It’s the realization that there’s something serious blossoming between me and Marco, foiling his grand plans—ones that involve me working for him and going home to someone like Arty. A notion that makes my stomach roil and my appetite suddenly disappear.
Dad’s expectations of us all are suffocating. Given our decision to enter the family business, Raf and I have been somewhat spared the disappointment directed at Sebastian for his chosen career. “You may own a successful nightclub, but it doesn’t make you a noteworthy man,” is one of Dad’s favorite lines to pull out whenever he wants to really knock him down a peg. However, one too many highly publicized misdemeanors from Luca means the scars of verbal lashings and sharp barbs are alive and well in what little relationship remains between them.
The shrill of Marco’s ringtone interrupts my racing thoughts. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and I see “Always Jump” flash on the caller ID. What a weird contact name, I wonder what that’s about.
He looks at me, and I can see the hesitation in his features. He doesn’t want to leave me alone with the wolves, but I know enough about his line of work that if his work phone rings—even on a public holiday—it’s important.
I smile softly and tip my head towards him in a reassuring “go on” gesture.
“Excuse me, I need to take this.”
Chapter fifteen
How’s That For Timing?
Marco
“AJ,brother,youallgood?” All my senses are immediately on high alert. When we last spoke, he told me he was lying low because the rival mob family, the Rizzos, got wind of his intention to buy La Rosa, an upscale cocktail bar struggling under current management. The problem—it’s in the neighborhood where the Rizzos control most of the nightlife and drug trade.
It’s the investment opportunity AJ approached me about right after I kissed Sophia at Bella Donna’s birthday event—it felt like a sign. I’m superstitious like that. It’s also the same one that’s got Patrick’s knickers in a knot. Sure, AJ may be varying shades of gray, but the deal is legit. Raf’s check of the contract determined as much, despite his reservations about my business partner. I trust my gut though, and regardless of his Mafia ties, AJ is a guy I would trust with my life. He knows the only business I want to be involved in is the above-board type, and he respects that. So much so he wants to be a silent partner, except somehow the Rizzos got wind of his involvement and are making that a little difficult.
“I need a huge favor,” he says firmly and calmly, disregarding pleasantries. “Remember my cousin Chiara, from the job you took with our family a few years back in Sicily?”
“How could I forget? We watched your father’s house for weeks on end. I still haven’t caught up on all the sleep I lost from the round-the-clock surveillance.”
Chuckling, he quips cooly, “Well we weren’t taking chances on her doing a runner—she’s as unpredictable as a tornado.”
“Why do I feel like you’re about to tell me that unpredictable tornado is headed my way?”
“Bingo. I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he says mockingly, before snapping back to business mode. “She’s flying to New York tomorrow on the family’s private jet. She just turned twenty-four and recently graduated so this trip is a celebration of both. She’s specifically coming to attend the art exhibition of the photographer she recently interned for. Natalia someone. She flat out refused to be chaperoned by my dad or any of his ‘fat, salumi-breathed cronies’ quote, unquote,” he deadpans. “I need you to pick her up and then basically be her private driver-slash-shadow while she’s here. I’d do it myself, but I’m still trying to sort this shit out with the Rizzos. I don’t want her to be dragged into it or more specifically, for her to stick her nose into it. She fucking loves to meddle,” he mutters. “Not to mention she’s hellbent on doing the exact opposite of what my dad thinks is best for her. So I’ve done the good cousin thing and convinced my father I would look after her so she could come. But I just don’t have the fucking patience to deal with the drama.”
“Great, so you’ll just hand the drama to me. Believe me, I’ve got plenty of it to go around myself already.”
He whistles lowly. “Yeah, that picture’s a framer. Your girl sure wears the well-fucked look perfectly.”
“Brother, I know you probably sleep with a gun under your pillow, but don’t fucking speak about my girl like that again,” I growl. “It’s bad enough I’ve got to deal with Arty BartholomewJones sniffing around and watching her dad fawn over him like the sun shines out of his ass.”
“More like the snot dribbles out of his nose with all the coke that guy does.”
“Fucking right,” I agree before steering us back to the job at hand.
“What’s Chiara’s contact number? I’ll add it to our encrypted surveillance cloud so I can monitor and intercept who she’s interacting with here in New York. Make sure we’re ahead of any problems we might come across.”
“I’ll text you all the information you need. Ahhh, one more thing I should probably tell you…” he trails off.
I groan, not sure where this is heading, but given the way this night has gone so far, I anticipate more news that will fuck with my quickly souring mood.
“You’re her driver, but don’t mention being hired to be her security. She’s fiercely adamant about her independence being her right or some shit, and unlike my father, I’m not above humoring her. As my father has spent the last few years discovering, she’s got the face of an angel, the personality of a spitfire, and she’s as cunning as a fox.”
“Just fucking perfect,” I scoff, but AJ ignores it.
“That’s sorted then. Info incoming. Let’s meet at Joey’s for a coffee and a slice after she gets in tomorrow.”
The line goes dead, and I check the time on my watch and realize I’ve been gone for almost fifteen minutes. At the rate Patrick’s going with operationmarry off my daughter,I’ll walk in to find a wedding planner in my seat organizing the finer details of Sophia and Arty’s big day. My blood pressure spikes at the thought, and I make my way back to the dinner from hell.
When I return to the dining room, Sophia is all laughs and smiles.Every single one falls short of her eyes. She’s been my subject of study for more years than anyone realizes, so I know it’s a charade solely for the benefit of pleasing people. With one glance I spot her tells. Picking the skin at the side of her thumb with her ring finger. The continuous bounce of her right leg beneath her chair. The straight set of her shoulders and rigid spine that could be attributed to good posture from years of deportment. I know better. The deepened sway of her lower back from the way her vertebrae hovers off the back of the chair and the way her ass pushes into the seat like she needs the pressure to anchor herself to the spot tell me she’d rather be anywhere than here.