Page 21

The cut glass gave under the pressure of my grip, crumpling in on itself as I squeezed until the shards pierced my skin. But the pain was nothing but a pinprick against the aggravation, burning a trail up the back of my neck as I watched her dance on the live feed. Her number had ended ten minutes ago, yet my eyes were still plastered on the screen as the last of her winnings was collected.

Amara had been magnificent, as always, leaving me torn on whether to immerse myself entirely in her performance or chuck the goddamn bottle of scotch and shatter the screen so I wouldn’t have to witness the way other men coveted and lusted for what was mine.

And that she was.

Even if our friendship still bordered largely on this insignificant power dynamic, it didn’t matter. I’d give her the time she needed.

As a man used to taking what he wanted, my patience with this woman was unprecedented. While the last few weeks had seen our relationship grow in terms of trust, what seemed like an impenetrable barrier still existed between us. She was guarded, careful with her words and gestures, and keeping just enough of a distance. But I was anything if not determined.

Two soft raps drew my attention to the door as if I’d conjured her with my thoughts. I didn’t have to guess who it was. Amara’s presence always brought with it a spark of electric energy I’d never felt with anyone else.

“Come in,” I urged, rounding my desk with hasty steps, eager to see her beautiful face in person.

The scent of her perfume reached my nose before she’d fully stepped into the room. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, preziosa ?”

Amara tilted her head as a feigned look of exasperation at the use of her nickname crossed her features. Maybe it was unprofessional, but it slipped effortlessly from my tongue. Decorum be damned.

“I need time off in about two weeks,” she said, leaning on the back of a chair.

My heart staggered for a moment as I took in the serious tone of her voice and how she averted her gaze as she spoke the request. It was all I needed to deduce that her trip involved her very interesting extracurricular.

“And may I ask what for?”

“No.”

Why had that answer not surprised me?

“How long?”

“A week.”

“A week?” I grimaced.

A fucking week without eyes on my girl. Without knowing if she was all right.

Fuck no.

“Where?”

“Out of state.”

A resounding fuck no .

“We’re still down a dancer. Maybe when Cambri gets back,” I lied.

While I knew how capable she was, I was also aware of her compulsivity regarding matters close to her heart. The Tarasov shitshow came to mind. And something about a flight out of state, coupled with her body language, screamed that this trip was highly personal.

She pursed her lips, a gesture that only made me want to bite them.

“I’m not exactly asking. Just giving you a courtesy heads up.”

I chuckled and folded my arms. “Is that how this works?”

Amara’s mouth parted, then closed, her reply stifled when her eyes landed on the smeared blood on my sleeve.

“You’re bleeding,” she said, placing a hand over mine and gently flipping it to examine my palm.

“It’s just a small cut.”

She eyed the shards still sitting on my desk. “How does that happen?”

“Flimsy glass.”

Her eyes flitted back to mine, a grin cracking her red lips. “You’re a bad liar.”

“Almost as bad as you.”

“Wrong. I’m a great one.” A first aid kit was tucked in the bottom drawer of my desk. Amara knew where to find it without having to ask. “Sit,” she commanded, nudging me down into the seat. I obliged, if only to revel in her closeness and attention.

“Where are you flying to?”

She glanced at me briefly. “Pennsylvania.”

“What’s in Pennsylvania?” I asked, momentarily taken aback by her honesty.

She blotted at the blood with a wipe. “Loose ends.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Santino, we’re not a team. I don’t need your help. And you wouldn’t understand.”

I tenderly touched the black bands around her wrists, caressing the scars I’d seen hidden beneath. Someone had hurt her, and I was itching to know whose heart I needed to tear from their chest. “I can try.”

She shook her head with a softened expression. “Two weeks,” she said, purposely ignoring my statement.

“I’ll make arrangements and have an aircraft ready for us both. Just say the word.”

It was about time I paid Silas and Leni a visit anyway, and it would be the perfect opportunity to meet Maksim. But more so, a chance for some alone time with her.

A response died on her lips for the second time when she lifted her eyes to the monitors behind me. The tinge of confusion in her gaze prompted me to turn around.

Luca sat adjacent to the stage, a familiar man to his right.

That son of a bitch. I shifted to my feet, fist pounding against the desk before I stormed toward the door. Blaise and Ash followed the moment I crossed the threshold, but with a single wave of my hand, I ordered them to fall back.

I wouldn’t tolerate outright disrespect, especially from my disgraced cousin. He knew damn well not to set foot inside my establishment for the rest of his sorry life. As I neared, the familiarity of his companion’s face finally dawned on me. Gregorio Andretti was one of my father’s trusted business partners and long-time allies, though I was unsure what he was doing in Miami, considering the man lived full time in Sorrento. I’d spent years running contracts for him alongside Hades and The Six. It struck me as odd to find him in the company of Luca—an outlier and family fuck up. I didn’t doubt my cousin was plotting something up his sleeve.

“Santi, wait. He’s not alone.” Amara’s warm touch against the hand on my gun and the unexpected use of a nickname briefly pulled me from the fury propelling me toward the stage. She motioned ten and two o’clock, where two men with stiff expressions stood, pretending there weren’t a pair of bare tits on the stage because they were too busy looking out for Luca.

“I thought you said we weren’t a team,” I quipped, brushing my thumb against the soft skin just beneath her mask. She must have pulled it on before leaving my office and before I even realized she’d followed.

“You promised me a private jet, Mr. Leone. Just making sure you follow through.”

Despite my intentions when I entered the lounge, this woman managed to derail my focus with a single sentence. “So, that’s a yes?”

“He sees you coming,” she confirmed with a squeeze, ignoring my question.

Placing myself between Luca and Amara, I pulled my gun and held it against my thigh and out of the view of the other patrons.

“You will leave in two ways: walking or in a bag. And this will be the only time I allow you to choose.”

Luca chuckled under his breath and sat back, signaling toward the bar. Trusting the bartender to know better, I resisted the urge to turn around. I liked the guy and would hate to have to make an example out of him regarding the definition of loyalty.

“Santino, is that any way to treat family?” Gregorio clapped my cousin’s shoulder and stretched his arms along the back of his booth, eyes on me for merely a fraction before they settled over Amara.

“Blood is meaningless without loyalty and trust.” I positioned myself directly in the man’s line of sight. “And even that carries an expiration date the moment lines are crossed.”

His mouth tightened. Message received.

“Oh, come on, cugino . Let’s talk and put what happened behind us. Tensions were high. No hard feelings, eh?” He, too, peered around me, catching a glimpse of a silent Amara, and grinned. “There’s my best girl. I told you you’d like her, didn’t I? Bellissima !”

“Get out. And take your men.”

Cynical laughter shook his chest. “Every man has a price.” He slid out of the booth, adjusting the front of his suit as he stood. “And a breaking point. Remember that, Santino.”

The implicit threat behind his words pushed me over the edge, and I reached for my waistband. Again, Amara’s hand fell over mine, and we locked eyes. This moment between us was significant because, while I knew we had miles to bridge before I gained her absolute trust, she was slowly sharing pieces of her she’d once reserved only for Cambri.

“It was nice to see you again, Gregorio.” Luca tipped his chin as he made his way toward the exit, and with one last glance my way, he motioned for his men to follow.

“Well, that was interesting.” The older man sat up, eyebrows pinched together. “I remember you and Luca as boys, and I see not much has changed.” There was a glint of amusement in his eyes as he lit a cigarette and tipped his chin, huffing a billowing cloud of smoke above his head. “But, like I said, family is family, and maybe you should hear him out. This was his father’s place, after all, no?”

“Respectfully, whatever he’s told you is probably true, but in any case, none of it is your business.”

Gregorio’s lips thinned, and he nodded. “Noted.” Again, his gaze rose to Amara, and a bastard grin split his face. He said nothing more and turned his attention to a female companion I hadn’t noticed until now.

“Come on.” I placed a hand on the small of Amara’s back. She stiffened briefly at the contact, but let me lead her back toward my office, where Blaise and Ash were waiting, eyes on the surveillance monitors.

“Who’s the bouncer on shift?”

“Alec, sir.”

“Take him downstairs.”

Every employee was under strict orders. Luca was not welcomed in this establishment. His waltzing in, flanked by his own security, was unforgivable. I didn’t tolerate incompetency. They all knew the consequences. It turned out, there would indeed be an example made tonight.

“What was that about?” I asked, twisting around and closing the door behind my men.

Amara pushed back her mask, a corner catching on her curls. I was at her side in an instant, carefully threading loose the tangled locks of hair.

“What was what?” she asked in a surprisingly softer tone than her usual sarcasm.

As I gently freed the last strand, my gaze dropped to hers, our faces merely inches apart. I expected her to shuffle back and put distance between us, but she remained still, waiting for an answer she already knew. I humored her anyway.

“Twice you intervened on my behalf.”

“Well, you were going in there, guns blazing and causing a scene, which wouldn’t have been too smart. You were outnumbered.”

“And you were worried?”

Her blue eye narrowed, a quirk of hers I’d come to know when she intended to mask slight discomfort or annoyance. I smiled and smoothed her cheek with the back of my fingers, satisfied when she didn’t pull away.

“Maybe I still need this job. And a dead boss and shot-up place of work would put a bit of damper on that. And let’s not forget the private jet.”

“Is that all?” I asked with a laugh.

Her eyes fluttered when my thumb grazed her bottom lip. And maybe it was wishful thinking, but I could have sworn she leaned into my touch.

“Yeah,” she whispered as she lifted her eyes to mine.

Never breaking contact, I slowly looped my arm around her waist and tugged her closer, my lips over her ear.

“ Sei una terribile bugiarda.” You are a terrible liar.

I felt her shudder under my touch.

“Santino.” There was a vulnerability to her tone, but before I could decipher its meaning, a knock at the door broke the moment, and she pulled away.

Paris, a woman with a blonde pixie cut, fidgeted on a small screen above Amara’s head.

“Come in,” I said, eyes still on Amara.

“Sir, I—Oh! There you are.” A flash of confusion creased her face briefly when she found who she’d been looking for. “Amara, a client has requested a private. Says he’ll pay double for the mysterious woman in the mask . That’s you!”

She outstretched her arm, beckoning her forward, and a sickening bout of deja vu had me swallowing thickly. I stepped between them.

“She’s not available.”

Paris’s eyes widened as she looked from me to Amara. “But Mr. Andretti already paid. What should I tell him?”

“That she can’t—”

“That I’ll see him in fifteen.”

I whirled around in time to catch Amara slipping her mask back into place. It was suddenly difficult to hear my own thoughts against the raging river of blood pulsing in my ears.

The fuck she would.