Page 2 of Sin City Obsession (De Salvo Empire #1)
Alessa passed over her carry-on when Emanuele indicated for it, but kept her words for Cavallo.
“We went more often when I was younger.” Her throat swelled for a dangerous moment and she swallowed hard against the unwanted, unhelpful surge of emotion.
She was the one who’d gone and brought up Italy and her childhood .
The unnamed man pulled open the back passenger door without a word.
Cavallo never looked away from her. “Us, too, back when I was just a rugrat.” He motioned to the soldier at the door. “This is Ignazio, by the way. He’ll be your primary local coordinator, tour guide, and authenticator.”
Alessa blinked and shifted her focus to the other man.
His expression was stoic, he looked to be two or three years older than her at most, and his light brown hair was styled in a popular undercut that enabled his bangs to shadow his dark eyes.
He was taller than her five-foot-six, but shorter than either of the men who’d met her inside the airport.
Overall, though, he certainly looked like he fit the bill for a bodyguard.
She inclined her head to him. “I look forward to working with you, Ignazio.”
He met her stare and dipped his chin.
Cavallo motioned into the car, indicating for her to take a seat. His smile seemed to warm as she drew near and he lowered his voice like he was speaking just for her. “Tell me one of your stories, I’ll tell you one of mine?”
Alessa almost flopped into the seat as his suggestion caressed her ears. He wanted to share stories? Of their childhoods ? Was she understanding him correctly? “I-I’m sorry, sir…?”
He ducked into the car as soon as she’d made room for him and turned a bit to face her, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. “I just want to get to know you, Alessa,” he said smoothly. “There’s no great conspiracy.” His dimples reappeared. “And you can call me Rocco. I’m not your superior. ”
She barely bit back a laugh. It was true, she wasn’t formally part of the Cavallo family, but since the Cavallos were in allegiance with the De Salvos, she was expected to respect their chain of command.
At least as long as they continued to respect the alliance.
Still, he was specific. She could indulge him at least outside of formal settings.
“All right … although I can’t promise anything I think of will entertain you. ”
Rocco clicked his seatbelt into place as Ignazio and Emanuele settled up front. “Consider me at rapt attention.”
Alessa Adimari was fucking gorgeous. Rocco had not been prepared.
He’d seen her ID in the email with her name and itinerary, but as usual, the government photo had not done her justice.
She wore a simple pair of clean, dark blue jeans with a modest blouse, but there was nothing simple about her. And that was a big problem.
He didn’t care that she was a few years younger at twenty-nine to his thirty-five.
He didn’t care that she wasn’t local. The issue was that Alessa Adimari was there as a representative of the goddamn De Salvo family.
She was their boots on the ground, their eyes on the scene, their voice in the room, for the foreseeable future.
He was just old-fashioned enough to have found it odd when he’d learned they were sending a woman for the job at hand, but Mikey’s email had been clear.
She was one of their best for this type of work, and one of their most trusted.
Every single word of which translated to a single, irrefutable fact. Alessa Adimari was off-fucking-limits.
Rocco tried to let Em hold conversation, tried to reprimand himself into line, but every word she spoke was like a melody to his ears. So of course he prompted her to keep talking.
His father would un-retire the belt if he found out how badly Rocco already wanted to get their guest underneath him.
Em drove in dutiful silence while Alessa settled on a surely safe, nonetheless amusing story of antics she had gotten up to as a pre-teen during one of her aforementioned Italian vacations.
Every now and again she would pause and purse her lips, as if some part of the memory had caught her off-guard, but then she would push ahead.
She mentioned grandparents, whom she referred to in Italian, and general family, but was never more specific.
Rocco suspected the reason for that was less to do with talking to a stranger and more to do with whatever struggle he’d seen on her face. Some foreign part of him wanted to ask, but he refrained.
He barely even heard whatever story it was he wound up telling in return. He only knew that she smiled, laughed quietly at one point, and the warmth that bloomed in his chest sank straight to his dick.
He was going to have to keep his distance from this woman, as much as his father would allow.
When they finally pulled up in front of the family’s premiere hotel, Rocco held back for a moment and watched as Alessa pushed out of the Caddy and tipped her head back.
He climbed to his own feet, finding her with her back to the building in front of them and her head slowly sweeping from side-to-side, taking in the unignorable, blinding lights of the semi-distant towers in all directions.
As dark as it was, the buildings didn’t have to be directly across the street for their intentionally high-intensity neon displays to feel as if they were right there.
He’d almost become immune to them, but watching her take it in, he thought he could see the whites, yellows, golds, reds, and greens as if they’d only just appeared. It would be a lot for a true first-timer.
Rocco quietly rounded the car and came to a stop at her side. He saw her gaze dart his way, noticing him, but she made no effort to speak, so he leaned close enough to whisper in her ear, “Welcome to Las Vegas, beautiful.”