Page 28 of Empire of Seduction (New York State of Mafia #2)

thirteen

. . .

Maggie

It stung, even though it shouldn’t.

“I’d rather not involve you, especially because I’m only here a short while.”

It wasn’t anything I didn’t already know and at least he wasn’t lying to me—anymore. So why had my mood taken a sudden turn as soon as he said it?

I shook myself as I walked. I wasn’t the type to get attached when I had sex with someone.

I could separate the physical act from messy emotions.

We both knew this was a temporary fling, just while he was here.

After a few weeks he’d return to his mansion or compound or whatever and resume his mobster ways, wearing a wedding ring and taking it off whenever he wanted to get laid.

I had to remember this, because even though he was sweet, he didn’t mean anything by it. And I obviously felt the same. Which was cool. Everyone was on the same page. I rubbed my chest and shoved away all those hormones and endorphins and attachment vibes. They had no business here.

I climbed the steps to my porch, then threw open the front door. As soon as I walked into my house, a distinct smell reached my nose. I looked around, disoriented. What in the hell . . . ?

Massimo . I’d forgotten for half a beat that I now had a guest. A noise from the kitchen drew me back there—and I spotted a male torso bent over the kitchen island, his mouth covering the opening of a glass bong.

“Glad to see you’re making yourself at home.” I went to the fridge and got out a bottle of water.

Lifting his head, he blew out a long stream of smoke. His eyes were rimmed red, his smile sheepish. “Perdonami, Maggie. I’m having trouble sleeping without my ragazza and this helps.”

“What is a ragazza?”

“Girlfriend.”

I cracked open my water and took a long swallow. “Oh. I thought it was maybe your security blanket or something.”

He held up his middle finger. “Did you have a nice morning with my brother? You look very—” he gestured to his face “—relaxed.”

“We had a nice time,” I said primly, which caused Maz to chuckle.

“You two are cute.” Bending, he put his mouth to the glass and flicked the lighter to heat the bong water. After he took another long hit, he blew out the smoke slowly. “Fuck, that’s nice. You want some?”

“No, thank you. I have a lot to do today. Can’t let anything slow me down.”

Maz licked his lips and tilted his neck from side-to-side, cracking it. I was about to leave when he said, “He likes you. In case you couldn’t tell.”

My feet grew heavy and I stopped. I both did and didn’t wish to discuss Vito. I tried to sound casual. “That’s nice, considering we’ve been at each other’s throats for a few days. And I like him, too. Mostly.”

“You don’t understand. He is . . . ” He started laughing and rubbed his head. “I can’t think of the word in English. What is like love but not quite love?”

“Uhhh.” I changed my mind. Suddenly, I did not want to have this conversation. “Pretty sure that doesn’t apply?—”

“Infatuation!” Maz tried to snap his fingers, but couldn’t manage it. He grinned a stoner grin. “He’s infatuated with you.”

Vito had said obsessed, so I could see where his brother might pick up on this. But no one needed to make more of this than two people blowing off steam together. “Well, I’m sure it’ll pass soon.”

“No, signorina. I know my brother. We’ve been close from the time we were boys and I’ve seen him with many, many women over the years. And he’s never acted like this. He doesn’t even let them spend the night. Vito is too responsible for that. He plans everything out to perfection.”

“Well, that’s nice, but?—”

“Allora, we had lots of parties on the yacht. Each of us with two, three, four gorgeous models at a time. Fuck, those were fun times. We flew these beautiful women in from Paris or Nice—hey, where are you going?”

I was already out of the kitchen. I really didn’t need to hear about all the glamorous and gorgeous women Vito had been with, especially when I was wearing baggy sweatpants, a borrowed shirt and no panties. “Duty calls, Maz. I need to change and get outside. Hope you have a nice sleep.”

I took the stairs two at a time, desperate to put this conversation in my rear-view mirror.

Vito could fuck whoever he wanted once he went back to Toronto.

I mean, I had a threesome once in high school.

It wasn’t a big deal. Turned out it was double the work for me, though, so I didn’t quite see the appeal.

I put on a sports bra, even though I technically didn’t need it, a long-sleeved thermal, then pulled Vito’s shirt back over on top.

The t-shirt was comfortable, so I couldn’t see a reason to change.

The fact that it was Vito’s didn’t factor into that decision at all.

Lastly, I dragged on jeans and socks, then went downstairs.

Massimo was sprawled on the living room couch, asleep, so I drew a blanket over him.

At the front door I shoved my feet into my work boots and collected my winter gear.

Today was colder than yesterday, so I needed to be prepared.

I opened the door and closed it softly. There were fences to repair today. The supplies were in the?—

A large figure materialized and I nearly stumbled, my hand flying to cover my heart. A grumpy-looking olive-skinned man was lurking on my front stoop. He dipped his chin respectfully. “Signorina.”

Edging back toward my house, I asked, “Do we know each other?”

“Don D’Agostino, he sent me to stay with you today.”

Stay with me? “What?”

“I’m your guard, Beppe.” I must’ve still looked confused, because he said, “It’s short for Guiseppe.”

“Okaaaay,” I said slowly. “But I don’t need a guard.”

He held up his palms and lifted his shoulders. “The don’s orders.”

I reached for my phone. Then I realized I didn’t have that asshole’s number. Smothering a curse, I started for the back of the property. Beppe was a step behind me and I felt my irritation double. Over my shoulder, I said, “Can you call him, please?”

“Don D’Agostino warned me that you would be pissed and said to tell you he saved his number in your contacts.”

Of course he had. I unlocked my phone and began scrolling my contacts. It wasn’t under D’Agostino or Vito . It also wasn’t under Asshole . Then I saw Bello under the Bs, which I knew meant handsome man . Jesus, arrogant much?

I punched the contact to connect and kept walking.

He answered after two rings. “Diavolina mia,” he said softly, his deep voice like warm butter. “Already missing me?”

“A guard, Vito? Really?”

“It’s for your own safety.”

“I’m not in any danger on my property.”

“ My property, and as I said, it’s for your own safety.”

The conversation I overheard earlier played through my head, the one about his men arriving from Toronto. I clutched the cell tighter in my grasp. “What aren’t you telling me? Is there something going on?”

“We discussed this earlier,” was his calm reply.

Fury shot through me like a rocket, an explosion of flames.

God, he was infuriating. I wanted to punch him in his I-have-frequent-orgies-with-models face.

“Oh, right. Don’t ask questions, go along to get along.

Do everything you say. Keep sleeping with you.

Got it.” Holding the speaker right up to my mouth, I shouted, “ Fuck off, Vito. ” Then I disconnected, turned off my cell, and put it in my pocket.

After a few steps I noticed Beppe wasn’t with me anymore. Looking over my shoulder, I saw that he was frozen in surprise, his jaw dropped open. I kept going. He could follow me or not, but I wasn’t waiting.

Eventually, around the merlot vines, he caught up to me. “It’s not wise to yell at Don D’Agostino.”

I clenched my molars together and stopped abruptly. “Beppe, no offense, but I don’t need advice from you on how to act. If he gets mad, that’s too fucking bad. See how that works?”

Beppe stared at me as if I were a brand-new species, some wild animal he hadn’t encountered before. “I’m only trying to help you.”

“Well, don’t,” I snapped. Then I softened my tone slightly. “Please.”

I kept going toward the equipment shed. Now I wished I’d taken Maz up on his offer of a bong hit. I could use a mellow high to counter my anger right about now.

From then on Beppe kept his distance, watching but not interacting with me.

I loaded tools and new wood into the golf cart I sometimes used, the exercise distracting me from bossy mafia men who harbored secrets.

When I got behind the wheel I motioned to my new shadow.

“Let’s go. If you’re really following me, get in. ”

Beppe folded his large frame into the passenger seat and I pressed on the pedal. The cart surged forward.

I worked on the fence while Beppe sat in the cart. He offered to help, but I didn’t want it. Normally, I passed off this sort of labor to one of my team, the landscaping crew on staff. But today I wanted to be alone and I wanted to sweat. Too bad I only got one of those two things.

By the time I drove back to the supply shed and put everything away, it was mid-day. “Let’s go get lunch,” I told Beppe. I wasn’t particularly hungry, but he probably was, and at least I could get away from him once I was in the main building.

Celeste, bless her, had warmed up all the leftovers from the engagement dinner for the staff lunch. I told Beppe to help himself, that I’d join him in a minute, then I went to the bathroom. When I was washing my hands, I stared at myself in the mirror.

I hardly recognized myself. My skin was pale and there were dark smudges under my eyes. I looked . . . defeated.

My property.

My property.

My property.