Page 7

Almost nothing surprised me.

News could piss me off, but it wouldn’t surprise me. Maybe it was a thing that came with having to watch your back every single minute of every day when you were unfortunately cursed with a psychopathic father who was always on the loose. He’d never made it easy for us. But growing up around him long enough helped us to see his crazy tantrums coming.

You could tell me the Armenians sprang a surprise attack and raided a drop five minutes before schedule, and I wouldn’t blink. Tell me the Chinese government created some new technology that was liable to wipe out the entire human race in nanoseconds, and I’d swing a glass of Vodka and wait for the explosion.

So, when Tikhon bounced into the living room with a fancy glittering black-and-gold invitation to dinner with Enzo Colombo’s daughter, a surprise bomb detonated in my chest, and “What the fuck did you say?” was out faster from my mouth than I’d ever said anything in my entire life.

Tikhon laughed and joined me on the sofa. He dropped the invite on the center table, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and fingers clasped together, scrutinizing it like something else lay inside.

“She smelled rats and weasels. I smell Italian fish.”

Tikhon was struggling to keep the smile off his face but failed miserably. While he found the situation amusing, my brain was spinning in circles, trying to decrypt the hidden message.

He pointed at the card. “This shit is real.”

“Or not.” I picked up the card, inspected it, and gave up when all I saw were gold letters on glossy black paper.

Special VIP invitation.

To: Rafayel Yezhov

Dinner at Bella Italia. Time: 7 PM. Don’t be late.

I leaned back against the sofa with a scowl. She’d successfully surprised me once with this invitation. I wasn’t going to walk headfirst into another surprise.

“Doesn’t make sense.”

A snort from Tikhon made me wonder if we were on the same page. “Because it’s not possible to be invited to dinner by a hot lady. You get plenty of invites from different women. Why’s this any different?”

So, my most trusted had checked the girl out. She was a beauty—a pure one. And I knew she’d not only caught the big guy’s attention. It meant nothing and shouldn’t bother me. That’s what I kept trying to tell myself, at least, while I tried to focus on what her ulterior motive could be.

And did he ask why this was different?

I had to look him in the face to be sure I was talking to the same person I’d known for years. Apparently, the girl’s charm had done a number on him to make him spew a truckload of nonsense.

“We’re talking about Colombo’s daughter, the Italian princess with a fucking temper. In case you developed some form of amnesia these past few weeks, I’ll remind you: We nabbed her. Three weeks later, she wants to have dinner, and you’re asking why this is different?”

He sat up straighter and, for a second, made me believe he had his thoughts buried deep in logic. “You’re thinking she’d plan a dinner at Bella Italia— note: a densely populated rooftop five-star restaurant—just to poison you?”

God, what the fuck happened to him? Did she get him that hard?

The last thing I needed was for him—or anyone, for that matter—to act like my level of intelligence was drastically low. I wasn’t overreacting. With the Italian involved, it was perfectly normal to think this way.

“Don’t underestimate her.”

Tikhon held up his hands. “After having the pleasure of a one-on-one meeting, that’s definitely the last thing I’m doing. Have you given it a thought that she could be into you? Wouldn’t be the first time a woman’s hitting on you in broad daylight.”

Wouldn’t be the first time, but Leonora Colombo, into me?

It was my turn to laugh at his absurdity. “Sure, and I’m the first man that made the trip to the fucking moon. Get your head out of your ass and think with me.”

A dinner organized at a populated rooftop five-star restaurant didn’t debunk shit. The girl was dangerous, and I knew accepting this invitation was akin to playing with fucking fire.

And yet, I asked Tikhon to get my suit ready anyway.

****

I sipped my glass of Pinot Grigio. Vodka tasted better, but this was going to have to do for now. The crisp taste tried to calm my growing paranoia as I gazed out at the view of the city skyline.

Tikhon was right about the place. If there was something there, and it turned out that the girl was testing suggestive waters with me, then the restaurant was a perfect spot for an intimate evening.

Soft music floated through the air, and twinkling lights were strung up around the patio.

My head dipped for the hundredth time to the jade watch on my wrist, and I heard the sound of high heels clicking on the stone floor.

Our reserved table was close to the entrance for good measure. I’d been fixed on this goddamn chair for half an hour since 6:50 PM, and more than a dozen heels had threaded on the stone floor.

But this one was…somehow distinct. It forced my head up, causing a collision with a vision of loveliness in the dim light. The hands on the clock seemed to slow down.

Aw…shit.

Something shifted in my head, above and below.

Fuck.

For the first time in years, my head blanked, and I lost touch with my vocabulary.

I was officially fucked.

This was the first time I’d seen her look like this. Like anything but a daredevil she-man who didn’t tolerate mediocrity and results below her standard.

Swishing her slender curvy hips towards my table was a fucking woman—a temptress on the loose to make all men bow to her feet and kiss her red-painted toenails. I didn’t fancy a feet fetish, but the sight of hers peeking from her black pointy designer heels made my cock twitch and mouth water.

If I thought she was pretty before… fuck , pretty. She was so fucking gorgeous, so fucking sexy, my throat dried up from the insufferable heat, and I snatched the bottle off the table to refill my glass. Majorly to cool the fuck down.

Jesus.

Her shoulder-length dark hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night, and her warm smile when she saw me lit up the entire rooftop. Clearly phony, but…still.

Hazel eyes, the color of mocha, with flecks of golden brown, seemed to sparkle like sunlight filtering through a forest canopy.

It stunned me that I’d committed those eyes to memory, memorizing every detail. The color was rich and warm, like a perfectly brewed cup of coffee on a crisp autumn morning. The edges of her irises seemed to fade into a soft greenish gold, giving her eyes a mesmerizing depth and complexity.

Was I ever going to tire of admitting that Leonora Colombo was stunning, with porcelain skin and full lips that forced thoughts into my head? Plus, that fucking mole that somehow just heightened her uniqueness?

Was I ever going to tire?

I was an honest man, so…fuck no.

Her slender figure was accentuated by a fitted silk black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places and hung slavishly low to the dip above the curve of her ass. I could tell by the bare glimpses of her tiny waist on each side of the flimsy fabric.

As she approached, I could see the subtle sparkle of silver jewelry around her neck and wrists, adding a touch of elegance to her already radiant presence.

And when she sat down, the realization dawned that I wasn’t the only man ogling the goddess. Almost every fucking living thing with a dick had their heated gaze trained on her like laser beams.

And when she pretended not to notice, fixing her gaze solely on me, I drank in all the attention like a thirsty motherfucker with an impressed grin.

Fuck. Me.

“Sorry, I’m late.” Confident as always, she slid into the chair across from me.

I shook my head, still feeling a little dazed by the impact of her beauty. “I’m starting to think you’re worth the wait.”

Flirting. I was flirting. When was the last time I flirted with anyone? Since…that’s right, high school.

She laughed, a throaty sound that did more harm to the strain between my legs than any good, and the whole reaction was confusing as shit and annoying.

I lifted the bottle and eyed her empty glass. “Care to start the night?”

Time was ticking, and that meant I had to coax her real agenda for this meeting out of her before my control slipped, and I ended up doing something we’d both regret.

When she piped up, I noticed a significant detail that wasn’t there before: the constant twitch of her brows like an appearing and disappearing frown and the shift in her eyes, both telltale signs of anxiety.

Avoiding my eyes, Leonora fingered the glinting rose gold infinity-set knuckle rings on her fingers, and I knew I was right. She was anxious but usually quiet.

My theory might have been spot on, after all. She’d organized this charade to dig her claws into me and commit murder and was now growing cold feet, trying to back out.

“Yes, please. I could use a drink.”

Or not.

Surreptitiously, I filled a glass and handed it to her, ignoring a strange zap that traveled like bolts when our fingertips brushed. For months, I hadn’t touched a woman, and venturing into celibacy wasn’t by choice. There was always something to take care of, something more important than chasing skirts.

Leonora was sipping slowly, calculatedly, and the suspense got me in a chokehold.

“So,” I started to say and gestured to the table. “This.”

“This,” she reechoed with that phony smile and returned her glass to the table.

Her attention was on me now, and I had every plan to milk it until I’d obtained every piece of information I needed. The first thing in my rule book, if I had one, was: DO NOT FUCKING TRUST LEONORA COLOMBO.

“What is this?”

“I thought the invitation spelled dinner correctly. Unless the almighty one somehow missed that.”

My lips twitched, and I crossed my arms over my chest. The girl could have a thousand and one issues burdening her small, flawless shoulders; regardless, she’d still hold her head high and find a way to dash a quick taste of her feisty venom.

I liked it.

I liked ….

“Thank you for that silent suggestion.” I made sure to clarify. “As a matter of fact, I can read. My surprise is directed at the purpose of this dinner.”

A smile danced on her mouth, which was highlighted with bold lipstick, but she kept mute. Little sly bitch. She was enjoying every minute of this, watching me battle with angst as I tried to wrap my head around the reason we convened at this location tonight.

Tikhon positioned men in every corner, and surveillance was tight. Just in case.

“I stand to be corrected but you’re leaving thoughts in my head, Leonora,” I pressed, and I thought I saw a shudder roll over her shoulders.

She pressed her lips firmly. “Thoughts like?”

“You, shooting your shot like this. Makes me think you liked it when I had you bound on that chair. Is that it? You like being manhandled, and it turns you on? Makes your heart throb for the one who has you subdued?”

My fingernails dug into my palms, so deep I believed my skin would crack. Where all that bullshit came from, I didn’t know. My bait was supposed to be simple: a quick dip inside the sea and wait for her to latch on. But I’d gone ahead and spilled my guts, fogging my brain with imaginations of what it would be like— feel like— to have the Italian princess subdued and at my mercy, bound on my fucking bed….

Or maybe, over this goddamn table.

Christ.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Her eyes were teasing.

I nodded. “I would.”

I didn’t need her to play this game. I didn’t need her fanning this fire. “But that’s not why you’re here, is it?”

“It could be.” Beating about the bush, she was. But I wasn’t going to stop her. If she wanted to talk and spill her guts as well, I had no intention of stopping her. “Don’t dampen possibilities because we had a rough start. You’re a fine man.” Her eyes glazed over with an unreadable shield when she gave me a once-over. “A handsome man. Probably the most sought-after bachelor on the planet—”

Leonora was buttering too much. And she wasn’t the flattering type. Dead giveaway.

This dinner had an ulterior motive, and I swore that if she wanted to poison me, we were both dragging our souls to hell at the same time.

“—what if I am shooting my shot?”

“It’s a night you want, then? I have a reservation made at the Glacier.”

She choked on the rest of her words, eyes big and fingers frozen on the table. Her shock was quick. If I’d blinked, I’d have missed it. “Yeah…yeah, sure, we could—”

“You’re the worst actress I’ve ever seen.” I dropped my arms and made sure she saw the seriousness in my gaze. “Last chance to tell me what this is, Leonya.”

The act died, and the real Leo emerged from the rubble of pretense. One exhale was all it took to wipe the anxiety off her face.

“A proposal, Rafayel.”

“Marriage?”

“Business.” Steeled eyes held mine from across the table. “I don’t like it, but it is what it is.”

And all the heat and burning flew off the rooftop. A spark was certainly there between me and this savage female, but this was business, purely business, as it should have been.

I wiped the smirk off and revealed my concern with a frown.

“A proposal for what, exactly?”

The grimace on her face was enough proof that she’d be better off swallowing needles than having this conversation with me. Her father was undoubtedly the brains behind this. Leonora was too fucking stubborn to come knocking or begging.

“An alliance.”

I was not expecting that. “Interesting.”

She glared. “We’re making an offer that will benefit both families: joint business ventures with equal splits in profit, shared resources, and mutual protection. In summary, we’d have each other’s backs.

“And this is suddenly springing up after your genius plot to snatch Jabril. Where were your thoughts on mutual protection, equality, and fairness then? Or are you worried about your soul rotting in hell and have come to make peace?”

“Fuck you, asshole.”

I smiled. My questions were met with silence. Although, I’d gotten the answer I needed.

There was only reason Enzo would submit a proposal for an alliance. They were running from something they considered themselves too weak to handle. Or maybe—

I lifted the glass to my lips. “Your powers are failing, aren’t they? The Italians are losing their grip, battling to regain influence—”

“I didn’t come here to be mocked.” Her teeth were clenched, like an uncultured dog ready to sink its canines into flesh.

“That’s on you, then.” I crossed my legs. “I’m not listening to a fucking word you say unless you’re transparent with the details.”

“I am being transparent. I’ve summarized the terms of the proposal. Both families benefit. We’ll grow stronger and garner more leverage together. Aren’t you all about the power?”

I listed with my fingers. “And intelligence, and taking precautions, and basic fishing for reasons to know why an enemy suddenly wants to be best pals. Common sense, if you ask me. But I know you and your kin can’t relate to those sorts of things.”

If she could stab me with the knife across the table, she would. Her glare screamed bloody murder.

“I’m warning you, Rafa—”

“And I’m informing you that I have the entire perimeters of Bella Italia surrounded.” I flashed a phony smile of my own. “One wrong move and your brains will be served on the golden platter for dinner, sweetheart. Details or nothing.”

Leonora scoffed. “I’d tell you the details, and you’d still have the upper hand.”

“You’re smart.”

“And you’re trying to be smarter. Figure it out then, bastard.”

This dinner was going extremely well, if you asked me. “Should you be talking to a potential partner like that?”

“We’re both past the stage of decent courtesy. Take it or leave it.”

I wasn’t going to leave, and she knew it. I enjoyed our banter a little too much to back out. And she didn’t know it, but her tantrums had quite the opposite effect of whatever it was she was aiming for.

“Is it the Rossis?”

Every outfit knew Luca was making trouble, trying to divide the Italians between themselves. He craved more power and plowed the ground to have Enzo’s disciples cave in and submit to him. Any attempt he tried now wouldn’t have been the first, but Enzo had always been able to quench the rascal and surge forward.

What changed?

“My father’s dying, Rafayel.”

There it was—the truth, at last. Probably something I’d skipped in the moment of our bickering, but her eyes were glassy now, almost teary. She wasn’t faking. She clutched the tablecloth between her fingers, and I surmised how hard she was trying not to cry.

Good thing she didn’t. Handling crying women wasn’t my strongest suit.

“He needs this, and, as I already said, I don’t like it. If I had alternatives, I’d readily choose from there. But this is what he wants, so I’ll grant it for him, even if it’s the last thing I fucking do.”

Her resolve was back.

“What I’m offering here…what we’re offering here is a good thing, and you know it. You might think we’re weak now, but you know we’re not powdered dust. We need reinforcements to strengthen our pillars; that’s all. And you need more ground—more people and resources to elevate your status.”

Leonora was, unfortunately, right. At any chance given to expand, the Bratva was going to consider it if it was good.

And an alliance with the Colombos wasn’t bad. We’d have access to their markets, their clients , and leverage against rival factions.

I found the Colombos annoying, like pests that refused to be exterminated, but that was all there was to it. The Rossis, on the other hand…. I knew little but enough to grasp they were dangerous, less trustworthy, and high risk.

Leonora wasn’t going to say it, but Enzo desperately needed our help. Made sense. We were the strongest peas in the pod.

Satisfied, I finished off the wine in my glass and rose to my feet.

The disappointment on her face when her eyes followed me was more visible than that darn bold lipstick seeking my attention.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes, I am. I enjoyed dinner, even if there was no actual food.”

“But…” she stuttered, hurt and confused at the same time. Truly, her father’s child. She hated my guts but carried a spark of hope that this meeting would pull through for his sake.

“But the proposal—”

“We’ll review some terms. I didn’t like the sound of that equal profits part, but other than that, we’re good.”

Hope. It shone brighter than I’d ever seen in those seducing eyes of hers. “We’re good?”

“Unless the almighty one doesn’t understand basic English, I meant your proposal for an alliance with the Bratva has been accepted. Enjoy the rest of your night, Leonya.”

Turning my back on her, I fished out my phone and put Tikhon on speed dial.

He picked on the second ring. “How’d it go?”

“Get Mandy to the penthouse.”

“On it.” The line went dead.

If I didn’t get a fucking release tonight, I was going to explode.