Page 61 of Brutal Heir

I don’t need her to explain any further as I fill in the blanks.Papàhad mentioned the city commissioner had come to him at Gemini Corporation with the same proposal just last week. It would be a partnership to clean up and regulate nightlife. Gemini and the city “teaming up” to reduce overdoses, crime, and violence in clubs. In reality, it’s just a way for the city to exert control over venues and skim off profits via compliance fees or shady inspections.

“Hmm,” I mumble, eyeing the mayor. “I’m still thinking on it.”

“Come on, Rossi, this could be a pivotal deal for both the city and Gemini Corporation.”

And the task force stinks of racketeering. The Velvet Vault has been under enough scrutiny lately, and I don’t need to add fuel to the fire.

“I said I’d think about it.” I drop my tone to lethal levels, and this time, he sits back in the plush velvet couch, pouting like a child. A pulse of anger still simmers in my veins. A couple months ago, thecoglionenever would have pushed me like that in public.

I’m still glaring at the mayor from the corner of my eye when the beat of the music shifts, the strobe lights dim, and the anger begins to wane.

Pivoting my gaze to a much more pleasant view, I find Rory staring off into the crowded dancefloor again. For the first timeall night, the music starts to melt into something softer. More intimate.

“Come on.” Rory whirls around in her seat, hand clasping mine.

“Come on, what?”

“To the dancefloor of course.” She’s already tugging my hand.

“No,” I grunt, digging my heels in like a stubborn bastard. “Absolutely not.”

She drops her voice to a whisper. “So you’d rather sit here and argue with the pompous mayor?”

My jaw ticks as I cast a glance in his direction. His arms are crossed over his paunch, a scowl twisting his mustache.

Rory slants me a look that could slice through reinforced steel. “Don’t make me drag you, Rossi.”

“You already are,” I mutter, finally letting her pull me out from behind the table, then forcing me three more reluctant steps forward.

We hit the edge of the floor where masked couples sway in lazy circles, faces brushing, fingers grazing. And everything in me tightens. My scars feel exposed, even beneath the mask, like people can see through the smoke-painted steel and read the ruin beneath.

But she doesn’t let go.

She steps in close, closer than she should, and slips her hand around my neck. Her other hand slides into mine. She presses her body flush against my own, and a rush of heat surges below my belt.

I can’t fucking breathe.

“I hate this,” I rasp.Lie.

“I know,” she says, lifting her chin. “But I love it. So shut up and sway.”

And so, I do.

Even though I know very well how risky this is. In a second, neither of us will be able to ignore my quickly hardening cock. Or the very real feelings developing behind the physical attraction.

Our bodies fit together in a way that’s too easy, too dangerous. Her curves settle against me like they belong there, like she’s been waiting for this exact moment. Her scent wraps around me, wild citrus and warmth, and I swear toDio, I could completely lose myself in it.

My good hand settles on her waist, the silk of her dress slippery beneath my palm. Her skin’s warm under the fabric, pulsing with life. Her fingers trace lazy circles against the back of my neck, and every muscle in my body draws tighter.

The last time I was this close to anyone, I was a different man. Whole. Beautiful, maybe. Now? I’m stitched together with pain and pride, and I don’t know if I deserve the way she looks at me. But she does anyway. And I can’t seem to look away.

We continue to sway, the hypnotic beat spinning around us, cocooning us in a space all our own. The disco lights, the thrumming bass and everything else blur in the distance until there is only her and me and this moment.

My heart beats out a rapid staccato, the unfamiliar dance surprising. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt so alive. So full of hope. For a second, I feel like me again, Alessandro Rossi, brutal heir to the Gemini throne and not the ghost I’ve become.

And it’s all because ofher.

Because she dares to look at me like a man, not something weak or someone to be pitied.