Page 20 of Empire of Seduction (New York State of Mafia #2)

Over the sounds coming from my lungs, I heard Carlo’s instructions for me to breathe in and out, in and out.

His palm rubbed between my shoulder blades soothingly.

After a few seconds, the fit eased and I was able to take a proper breath.

“Allora,” I heard him say. “Drink this.” A glass of water was pressed into my hand.

As I took a grateful sip, my gaze locked on Vito, who was now paused at the bottom of the stairs, his expression granite.

He stared directly at me and he didn’t look happy.

I don’t know how I knew that, I just did.

With his wet hair and dark suit, he was intimidating.

I preferred him in glasses and pajama bottoms.

He approached the table. “Are you alright?”

“Fine, thank you,” I rasped. My heart thundered in my chest, which was obviously due to the coughing fit and not Vito’s sudden arrival.

Vito's eyes slid to where Carlo was touching me, then continued on to the oenologist. His mouth was tight as he said, “My apologies for running late.”

Carlo’s palm slipped off my back as he rose. “Signore D’Agostino. An honor to meet you in person.”

Vito offered his hand and the two men shook. “And you, Signore Leoni. Thank you for coming at such short notice.” Then Vito said something in Italian, the words clipped and forceful, and Carlo nodded a few times.

Vito unbuttoned his suit jacket and lowered himself into the chair at the head of the table, directly between me and Bruce. “Shall we sit? You may catch me up.” He reached for a plate and began taking food from the charcuterie board.

“Heads up,” I said. “Those peppers are super spicy.”

“Are they?” Vito took mostly meat and cheese on his plate. “I appreciate the warning. Which of the wines are we tasting?”

“We’ve tasted three of the four so far,” Carlo said. “We haven’t tried the rosé yet.”

“Excellent. We should continue, no?”

Bruce poured four glasses of the rosé. When I reached for mine, Vito slid the wine out of my reach. “Water only.” Then he placed his full plate of meat and cheese in front of me. “ Mangia .”

Was he actually treating me like a child right now? “I’m good. You can give me my rosé back.”

He ignored me. To Carlo, he asked, “So tell me, what are your impressions so far?”

I clutched my nearly-empty glass of Cabernet Franc as Carlo began talking, then ate a bite of food. Spitefully, I didn’t touch my water glass.

Carlo told Vito of his process, how he would examine the equipment and run a soil test. Watch our bottling process and how we aged the wine. He came across as knowledgeable and thoughtful, more of a partner in the winery than someone who wanted to change everything. I appreciated the approach.

Was this how everyone but me saw Vito?

Before I could dwell on that particular idea, Bruce offered to show Carlo some of our unused barrels and describe how we treated the oak. The two men stood and looked at Vito and me. “Would either of you like to come?” Bruce asked.

“I must speak with Maggie privately for a moment, if you don’t mind,” Vito said in a tone that no one would dare argue with.

No one except me, of course. “I need to go with them, Vito.”

As I started to push my chair back, Vito put a hand on my arm. “Stay.” To them, he said, “She’ll be along.”

The two men left for the rear of the cellar, and Vito and I were alone. I was feeling too good to let this man ruin my mood. “Do you think your brother would make me a meatball sub?”

“A . . . what?”

“You know, meatballs, cheese and sauce on a toasted sub roll. It’s so good and I could really go for one right now.”

“No, I don’t think he has ever made one of those.” He leaned in, close enough that I could smell his fancy shower gel. “Are you flirting with Carlo?”

My jaw unhinged, low enough that it should’ve smacked the table. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“Answer the question. Are. You. Flirting. With. Him.”

“No—but even if I were, how is that any of your business?”

Instantly, I knew this was the wrong answer. The lines in Vito’s face sharpened and his stare turned forbidding, like the night sky when there were no stars, fathomless and unforgiving. “It is very much my business, bella.”

I shook my head slightly. This made no sense. Why would Vito?—

Then it hit me. “Oh, my god. Are you jealous? ”

He edged away, his expression wiping clean. “Of course not.”

“Yeah, I would hope not considering you’re married .” I emphasized the last word, hoping to see a crack in his exterior, but Vito didn’t flinch. Firmly committed to maintaining his ridiculous ruse to keep us strictly business , obviously. I pointed in his face. “You, sir, don’t get to judge me.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Definitely. And it feels amazing . So don’t ruin it by saying something dickish and reminding me of what a dick you are.”

He exhaled heavily and tapped his fingers on the wooden table. “I’ve had a shit day, Maggie. Do not push me.”

Yeah, he could join the club because I’ve had plenty of them recently, all due to him . And knowing he was lying to me about being married really irritated me. Could I get him to admit the truth?

I was just buzzed enough to try.

“Aww,” I said with fake sympathy. “Did you have an argument with the little woman back in Toronto? Let me guess? She’s worried you’re sleeping around on her.

” Licking my lips, I leaned in. “You know, I tried to find her online. I searched social media for every female D’Agostino in Toronto but came up empty-handed. Do you keep her under lock and key?”

A muscle popped in his clean-shaven jaw. “Stay out of my personal life.”

I couldn’t resist pushing him. “That wasn’t what you wanted at the casino. As I recall, you were telling me how I was the best?—”

“That’s enough,” he snapped. “No more wine for you.”

While I was day-drunk, I wasn’t dead. I still had a backbone. “You don’t get to order me around, Vito.”

His smile turned slick, an evil tilt of his lips that caused butterflies in my stomach. “That wasn’t what you wanted the night at the casino,” he repeated, using my words against me. “As I recall, you were begging me to tell you?—”

“Knock it off.”

“—exactly what to do. You liked it when I ordered you around.”

A thrill raced down my spine, and my nipples shamefully hardened into tight little points.

God, Vito had been extremely bossy in bed and I’d loved every minute of it.

From the way he dressed, to the way he walked and talked, this man was like competence porn on steroids.

But I didn’t need any memories to resurface right now.

“That was before I knew what a dick you are,” I said.

I thought he might get angry again, but his smile didn’t diminish in the least. In fact, it grew. He appeared . . . relieved. Amused. Almost happy. Like he’d been waiting all along for this exchange.

Shifting in my chair, I tugged the edges of my jacket closer to cover my nipples. “Are we done? Because I’d like to go and join them.”

“Eat.” He pointed to the plate in front of me. “And then you may go. You need more food in your stomach.”

“What I need is for you to leave me alone,” I said under my breath, popping a piece of prosciutto and parm in my mouth.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” I swallowed. “Why were you late today? Mafia business?”

“Worried about me?”

“No.” I ate some more. “I couldn’t care less about you or your whereabouts, Vito.”

“You are a terrible liar, bella.”

“Really? Because I convinced you that you’re good in bed. So, who’s a bad liar now, hmm?”

He sipped his wine, eyes dancing with smugness. “Unfortunately for you, I can count. And seven orgasms do not lie.”

Whether it was the wine or Vito’s words—or just sitting close to him—I could feel myself growing wet between my legs, my body getting turned on. And that was un-fucking-acceptable. I didn’t need any reminders of that night or how amazing his dick was. I was done with this walk down memory lane.

Grabbing the plate, I stood up. “Drop dead, Vito.”

I heard him chuckle as I walked away.