Page 35 of Sexting My Bratva Boss (Mafia Silver Foxes #1)

He lingers at the door, and I try to persuade myself that he’s just forgotten. That asking my next question isn’t unreasonable.

“Before you go, could you give me my tips back?”

Claudio stares at me blankly. “You owe me rent.”

It feels like he’s just punched the air from my lungs. “Right.”

His gaze rakes over me once more before he leaves. The act sends a shiver down my spine that I convince myself must be derived from desire. Because what else could it be? My heart thrums rapidly in my chest at the truth in that stare.

He is gorgeous, passionate, and committed to my success. He’s the angel who swept into my boring old life in Ohio and promised me the world was ours for the taking.

It’s so easy to convince myself that I love him, because he’s already done so much for me. He got me this job, housed me, clothed me.

If that’s not love, what is?

“Fuck.”

I examine my arms in the mirror with a gnawing sense of dread. Hand-shaped bruises are already forming on the tops of my arms, and my strappy black dress does nothing to conceal them.

The intercom buzzes. “Cas, you’re on in five!”

There’s nothing else I can do. I don the worn leather jacket hanging on the back of my chair and allow the familiar musky scent of it soothe my rampant anxiety. Danny will give me so much crap for wearing it on stage, but I don’t care.

The woman in the mirror stretches her face into a smile, and we rise as one, ready to take on the world. Seven thousand dollars lighter.

As I walk backstage, my heels click against the floor, providing a beat for my vocal warmups. My throat snags more than I’d like it to, but it’s already two a.m., and most of our patrons will have already sailed past sobriety.

I just pray that the “Italians” are firmly on that list.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” Claudio’s voice booms as I wait in the wings. “I present the most darling, most talented thing to come out of Ohio in the last twenty years. Please give a round of applause for Miss Cassandra!”

I breathe before I step out onto the stage to the chorus of applause.

As usual, the lights are far too bright. I can just about see Claudio’s outline as I approach the microphone. He reaches for me, squeezing my arms as he goes to kiss me on the cheek.

“Don’t fuck this up,” he whispers.

I smile as he leaves me, the clapping trickling into expectant silence.

Showtime.

“How are we all doing here tonight?” I say into the free-standing microphone.

The question is met with a generous amount of cheering, but I have to squint to determine where it’s coming from.

“Could we turn down the lights a little? I want to see what kind of motley crew waited all this time to listen to little old me.”

Thankfully, the blinding spotlight eases, revealing a surprisingly strong turnout.

But my eyes snag on the VIP table directly below the stage. Dressed in a light gray suit and white shirt, which is unbuttoned to reveal the intricate tattoos decorating his chest, he is the most beautiful man I have ever seen.

And when his icy gray eyes light up as he offers me a crooked smile, my entire world collapses around me.

Chapter 3

Rocco

“Mia. Who is that?”

The bartender looks up from her tray of perfectly aged single malt to note the angel currently gracing the main stage at the Candelabra.

Mia looks at me with narrowed eyes. “Don’t even think about it.”

I want to laugh and tell her it's far too late for that. The second the woman had walked onto the stage, I had been utterly captivated. How could someone look so lost and yet perfectly belong in the spotlight?

Her tight black dress reveals a dangerous amount of leg, which already has many of the men around me drooling a bit. Yet the vintage leather jacket advocates for her modesty, only allowing us brief glimpses of her surprisingly curvaceous figure.

But all thoughts of deciphering the enigma before more vanished the second she began to sing.

“I haven’t seen her before,” I mutter as I take my drink from Mia’s outstretched hand.

A glance at the fiery redhead makes me aware she’s about two seconds away from throwing it in my face.

“I thought you were here to see Danny,” she replies tightly.

I lean in, matching her glare. “Just because your father is a valuable asset to me doesn’t mean you can talk to me like that.”

“I’m so sorry, Your Royal Highness. Would you like me to spell it out for you? Cas is off-limits. End of story.”

Cas. My mind turns the name over and over again, trying to imagine what it would sound like on my tongue. Miss Cassandra —that’s how she’d been introduced. I wonder if that is her real name, or just a stage name.

“You must be close if you’re already on a nickname basis,” I muse.

“We were childhood friends.”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. The Italian mafia doesn’t run in particularly large circles. “A family I know?”

Something flickers across Mia’s stony expression, but it’s gone before I can pull it apart.

“She moved to Ohio when she was eight. She doesn’t know about the Guild.”

Cas begins her next song, and it’s all I can do to hum non-committedly in response to Mia’s words as my entire attention is captivated once more.

She must be some kind of siren. The way everything else seems to fade around me has my instincts raging for me to stay alert. But I’m completely helpless.

She might sound like an angel and look like the gods themselves had crafted her to be the living embodiment of desire, but those lips, forming perfect ohs and ahs around the melody…were as sinful as the devil.

What I wouldn’t give to trail my tongue across her bottom lip, and hear the sounds she made when I took it between my teeth. Would she sing for me then? Could I make her gasp out my name between the notes of her pleasure?

Then, all of a sudden, her song ends. Everything around me comes back into sharp focus, and I find myself having to reposition myself in my seat.

I turn to see that Mia is back behind the bar, so I take the opportunity to flag down her assistant manager, Terry.

“Sir?” He practically bows as he approaches the VIP table. I absently wonder if I could persuade him to give Mia a few lessons in grace and decorum.

“Please invite Miss Cassandra to my table after her performance.”

“Of course, sir.”

The next twenty minutes are complete agony. It takes everything within me to maintain a cool facade to conceal the rampantly salacious thoughts running through my mind.

I tell myself it’s Danny’s fault. We’d broken up again after the incident with Carmine Bellini over a week ago. Despite her constant nagging and clinginess, she’d always been willing to take the edge off most of my darker desires.

Now they are running rampant, projecting onto this poor woman who’d done nothing but appear before me as temptation incarnate. Perhaps Mia was right after all.

“Sir?”

I turn as casually as I can to see that Terry has returned to my table. The woman who will surely be my undoing is standing nervously behind him.

“Miss Cassandra for you, sir.”

Cas steps forward, fingers playing with the cuffs of her jacket. “I hope you enjoyed the show tonight.”

Her voice is quieter than I expected. Her confidence from when she was on stage is clearly waning now that she is out of the spotlight. But it doesn’t stop the pining ache in my chest.

“Miss Cassandra, please, join me for a drink.” I indicate to the seat across from me before turning back to Terry. “She’ll have a glass of champagne.”

“Make that a whiskey,” she corrects as she nods to my own glass. “My father always said it was rude not to drink that same thing as your host.”

“Smart man.”

Cas finally takes her seat as Terry retreats back to the bar.

Now that we are face to face, I find myself captivated by her beauty.

Her thick, dark hair matches her olive skin perfectly and it cascades down over her shoulders in effortless waves.

But it’s her unusually bright hazel eyes that render me speechless.

She shifts awkwardly under my intense gaze. “You wanted to see me?”

“I wanted to congratulate you in person. It’s been a while since the Candelabra has displayed such talent.”

A beautiful flush appears across her cheeks, and the sight goes straight to my cock. If such a small amount of praise had this effect on her…

“I’m not sure my colleagues would agree with you,” she counters.

“A diplomatic response.”

“Self-preservation is in my best interest. I quite enjoy having my hair attached to my head.”

My chuckle seems to surprise us both. “You’ve met Danny then.”

“Hard to miss her.”

“I seem to have managed it this evening,” I muse. “Although I can’t complain. Making your acquaintance seems like a more valuable use of my time.”

Cas stares at me for a moment, clearly mulling something over. “You know, she talks a lot about her boyfriend when she is backstage—the staggeringly handsome Italian billionaire who reserves the VIP table almost every night.”

“Do you agree with her?”

She frowns. “Agree with what?”

“That her ex-boyfriend is staggeringly handsome?” I lean hard on the word “ex” as I speak.

Her tempting mouth drops open, but she’s saved a response by two glasses of whiskey slamming onto the table between us.

“Everything all right here, Cas?” Mia stares at me with murderous intent.

I offer her a shit-eating grin in return. “Miss Cassandra and I were just getting acquainted.”

“I called last orders an hour ago,” she counters.

To her endless list of credits, I add another mark of approval as Cas places a gentle hand on Mia’s arm. “I won’t be too long. Claudio was asking if you had next week’s itinerary yet.”

Finally, Mia looks at her friend. “You call me if you need anything.”

Cas nods, and Mia makes her retreat, shooting daggers over her shoulder at me.

“I’m sorry, Mia can be…protective.” Cas swirls her whiskey around her glass.

“Evidently.”

“She’s right, though. Claudio will want me backstage soon. I won’t be able to stay long.”

I smirk. “I’m sure he’ll make an exception for me.”