Page 31 of The Enforcer’s Revenge (Untamed Hearts #4)

Good looks were easy. Beautiful women were everywhere in Cosa Nostra, but this was something else. Tino glanced at his brother again, seeing the way Nova watched her, even when he didn’t want to—he just couldn’t help himself.

This was a woman used to making powerful men want her, and she was very good at it. That was all it took for survival to sink Tino’s PTSD like a stone. He was suddenly in full enforcer mode.

“I’ll go back,” Tino whispered in Italian.

Nova held up his hand in response, silently telling Tino he didn’t want to discuss it, and then turned to look at the seating section.

Instead of sitting at the stage, the two of them slipped into one of the booths at the back of the room. They were both uncomfortable, horribly so. Tino could barely sit still. Nova rested his head on his hand and looked toward the wall, completely ruining their cover.

“Why do some of them have those little coin purses on their wrists?” Nova asked Tino in hushed Italian, still looking away from the stage as the song changed. “Do you know?”

Carmen pulled off her dress, revealing nothing but smooth, tan skin and a black g-string.

Tino didn’t want to be looking, but one of them had to. Trying to ignore the rest, he glanced at Carmen’s wrist and saw one of those coin purses Nova was talking about.

“They carry condoms in them.” Tino choked when he said it. “That’s how you tell which ones do more than dance.”

“Motherfucker,” Nova said vehemently, speaking English, going one step further in destroying their cover. “How do we get her the fuck out of here? Right now.”

Tino glanced back to the guy in the corner he’d spotted when they first came in.

Tino didn’t recognize him as a Brambino, and clearly, Nova didn’t either, but it was blatant that he worked for them.

Their Borgata had this strange presence, very ice cold, never wrinkled, and always fit, which was weird.

Most of the Moretti Borgata gave up at about thirty and went thick.

The old man was after young comares, so he worked at it, but the rest of them, including Tino’s father, liked to eat and party too much.

Tino could tell right away that this floor manager didn’t party. Thirty-something, he was Brambino intense. His dark brown hair was shaved short, and even under the fine Italian suit, Tino could see he was packing.

Luckily, the guy wasn’t paying them any attention.

Why should he?

Heather in the front hadn’t clued him in, and thus far, the bouncer had no reason to believe they were there to spend major cash. They just looked like a couple of horny, cheesy tourists.

Or that was the plan, but Nova complicated things.

Tonight was the first time Tino realized Nova didn’t know how to stop being Zu. Even to save his own fucking life, he couldn’t turn it off. It just bled out everywhere, and it was a huge liability.

It was like finding out Carina couldn’t aim.

And Tino hadn’t done so great with that.

“First, you have to stop looking away from the stage.” Tino kept speaking Italian. “You have to pretend to be interested.”

“Pretend?” Nova snorted. “This is the most fucked up situation I’ve ever been in. I have to tell that poor girl her sister is dead, and she’ll know I’m never forgetting this shit. I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

That was no idle threat from Nova.

“I’m not sure if you noticed, but she knows she’s hot,” Tino assured him as he tried to take his own long, deep breaths to stop the panic. “She wouldn’t be able to sell it like that if she didn’t. She’s not going to hold it against you for noticing, Casanova, I promise.”

Nova took a shuddering breath, making it obvious it was deeply disturbing him. He had his own issues with the sex market. The guilt over what Tino went through still tormented Nova, and it was obvious it was all blending together for him.

It took a few more deep breaths, but Nova looked back to the stage just as Carmen pushed the g-string over her hips. Nova shifted in his seat, but he didn’t look away.

Tino wanted to get out of the club, too.

His trigger finger was itchy.

A part of him wanted to blow their way out, and he knew Nova felt the same.

Tino raised his hand and gestured to the waitress instead. She was dressed in a bikini that left very little to the imagination. Tino fell back on old habits, flirting appropriately as he ordered them both sodas because they didn’t serve alcohol in the all-nude clubs in Tampa.

It fucking figured.

After the waitress left, Tino leaned into Nova and said, “Her set’s almost done.

We’ll give the waitress a tip to take to Carmen.

She’ll make sure Carmen knows where it came from.

The guys who tip big get the most attention.

When she comes over, we’ll figure out a way to get her out of here.

Worst-case scenario, I’ll go back with her. ”

“No.” Nova shook his head. “I’ll do it.”

Tino stared at him skeptically.

“I don’t want you to have to go back into that room,” Nova explained, still looking sick. “Plus, Brianna. What if she finds out?”

Tino had to admit, he wasn’t super thrilled at that idea either. It would make more sense for Nova to go back since he was the single one, especially with someone like Carmen, who was used to selling it like a motherfucker.

The waitress showed up with their drinks before Tino could respond. Her eyes grew wide when Nova pulled out his money clip. He tilted his head toward the stage where Carmen was still dancing, but he didn’t say anything as he handed her two bills.

So, Tino spoke up. “She speaks Italiano?”

“Yeah, she speaks a lot of languages. She used to live in Europe.” The waitress looked at the money in her hands. “He wants me to give it to her? Two hundred bucks?”

“Sì.” Tino gave her a broad smile, even if his stomach was churning. “He thinks she’s beautiful.”

It wasn’t bullshit, except Tino was the only one who saw how uncomfortable Nova was about that little development.

“You have to pay at the bar for a private dance.” The waitress spoke slowly, as though concerned that the two of them were confused about how things worked. “He would have to pay again for a private room. This is something separate. It’s just a tip for watching her.”

Tino looked to Nova, who was watching as Carmen finished her dance.

Now completely naked, she fell to her hands and knees and started picking up the money on the stage.

Nova wasn’t hiding the blatant interest in his dark gaze.

It was supposed to be an act, but Tino knew it likely wasn’t, especially considering how terrible Nova had been at undercover thus far.

“I think you overdid it with the tip,” Tino said dryly in Italian, since the waitress didn’t know what he was saying anyway. “Even for her, it looks weird.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Nova answered without looking away. One man threw a bill on Carmen’s bare back, and Nova’s eyes narrowed. “She shouldn’t be crawling around for ones and fives. That’s a fucking insult to God. What the hell is wrong with this Borgata?”

Nova pulled another hundred out of his money clip to prove his point and put it on the table. He didn’t look away from Carmen, and Tino was going to have to correct himself about Nova being bad undercover because he looked pretty fucking captivated.

“Okay, baller.” Tino had to refrain from rolling his eyes before he turned to the waitress and switched back to English.

“He understands.” He picked up the extra hundred and handed it to the waitress.

“He enjoyed her dance.” He glanced back to Nova, who was still watching Carmen, and added in a conspiratorial voice, “My brother’s lonely. ”

“Oh.” The waitress tilted her head to study Nova. Handsome, rich, with an air of power he couldn’t hide if he wanted to, most women stared at Nova like that. “He doesn’t look like he should be lonely.”

The best lies were the ones closest to the truth.

Tino didn’t have to fake the pain in his voice when he said, “But he is.”

“Then I guess it’s her lucky night.”

The waitress turned away before she could see Nova blanch, like he might actually be sick in this club.

“You should wait to break the news,” Tino suggested because he wasn’t certain Nova was up to it. “Tell her what you need to get her out of the club for safety reasons. Then we’ll talk to her about Lola—together.”

Nova nodded and rubbed a hand over his forehead.

The music ended.

Carmen met the waitress at the base of the stairs and looked around when she was handed the money, obviously searching for the one who thought she was worth so much.

Then the waitress said something else, and Carmen’s features softened, making her look a little more vulnerable.

That’s when he saw Lola, the kindness she couldn’t kill, no matter how much it would help her if she could.

Tino was sort of disappointed.

He realized right then that he had been silently rooting for Carmen for years now, drawing power from all those stories of rebellion. He wanted her to own it without getting hurt.

But it had hurt her—in ways she didn’t even know yet.

Carmen disappeared into the back without spotting them, which was a very seasoned thing to do. It didn’t really matter what the client looked like. All she knew was there was a nice guy with money who wanted attention.

Tino wanted to run away.

He didn’t want to be anywhere near telling someone their sibling was dead, especially knowing it could still destroy her as utterly as it would destroy him.

“Cazzo.” Nova sighed and confessed Tino’s fears out loud, “I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to do this. My hand to God, I’m going to burn that whole Borgata to the ground if it kills me.”

“I’m ready, fratello mio ,” Tino said with a grim smile as he played with the straw in his drink again. “You light the match, and I’ll bring the gasoline.”