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

CHAPTER TWO

A fter that, Tino sat between his brother and uncle and watched Brianna dance while he entertained all his dirty fantasies.

Despite the dim lighting, Carlo put his sunglasses on and stretched out on the other side of the couch.

He dropped his head against the arm and put his booted feet on the coffee table.

There was no way he could sleep with the noise level, but he was probably hoping word would get back to Lola that he did.

Nova was still on his phone, doing whatever the hell he did. He was as distracted as Tino, so neither noticed the woman until Carlo jerked. There were so many people, she was easy to miss until she was on Carlo, standing at the edge of the couch and sliding her hands down his chest.

Carlo caught her wrists when she tried to pull up his black shirt beneath the lines of his jacket.

She was behind him, and Carlo couldn’t see her face, so he was noticeably tense about being molested by an assumed stranger.

She exposed his gun and holster, and he didn’t bother to hide it as he said loudly over the music, “I've gotta girlfriend, sweetheart.”

Tino grinned because, unlike Gino, he was good at recognizing faces, and he knew this one very well. Despite the dark brown contacts she’d worn to disguise her startlingly light eyes and the blue Mardi Gras-style mask that covered most of her beautiful features, Tino would know her anywhere.

“ C’est bon. I heard you’re dangerous. Now you let a woman scare you.” Her voice was accented in a way that made Tino roll his eyes. “Who cares about your girlfriend?”

Not that she wasn’t good at playing her game, because she was.

Very good.

Carlo stared down at her slim, tanned arms and hands before he caressed the index finger on her left hand with a thoughtful look, making it obvious she couldn’t hide from him for long.

Her fingernails were painted with little skull and crossbones.

She was getting into this Mardi Gras thing a little too much.

She even had the French accent to match, though she sounded more Caribbean than Creole, which would make sense, all things considered.

And everyone knew how much Carlo liked Caribbean women.

Tino would almost wonder if she was testing him, except she was smiling as she leaned in and whispered something in Carlo’s ear that made him jerk a second time. Then, Carlo intertwined her fingers with his and used his hold to pull her closer, forcing her to wrap her arms around him.

He turned his head to look at the beautiful woman molesting him on a Friday night and studied her with a bemused smile.

Her curls were wild, hanging long and loose down her back.

It was as different from her usual style, as was everything else about her tonight, but Carlo didn’t seem to mind the new look.

“I like your hair.” He caressed her cheek under her ornate mask and said, “But you know this is too risky.”

“You like risk,” she reminded him, her accent gone as she smiled at him. “That’s why you’re here.”

“No, I’m here because the old man told me to be here.” He reached up and tugged one of her curls. “You look very rebellious tonight. What would your daddy say?”

“He’d fucking hate it,” Lola assured him.

Carlo sucked in a sharp breath like that really did it for him. That was probably dead on considering their history with Lola’s father, who, among other things, just happened to be the Don of a rival mafia family.

Her father also rented out Lola on the black market for most of her life, and it was a fucking miracle Carlo didn’t blow up the entire Brambino Borgata when he found out.

They sold Tino, too, before Nova put an end to the Brambinos’ racket in the sex trade and nearly bankrupted Lola’s father in the process.

Tino was certain Carmine Brambino was still extremely pissed about it.

Needless to say, there was no love lost between the Brambinos and the Morettis, but Carlo never let that stop him with Lola. The two of them had been tangled up in this secret love affair for years now.

“Come here,” Carlo said in a low, gravelly voice. “I like you when you’re being bad.”

“Only when I’m bad?” Lola asked playfully.

“Nah, I like you always.” Carlo gave her a wide, devious smile before he added, “But especially when you’re bad.”

Tino rolled his eyes again. He moved closer to Nova when Lola came over and straddled Carlo, sitting on his lap with a deliberate, sensual grace that was both her gift and her curse.

“This isn’t awkward,” Tino whispered to his brother.

Tino and Lola had a history—a dark history —from their time on the sex market that no one, including them, talked about, but he would never once begrudge Lola and Carlo their relationship because of it.

Carlo and Lola loved each other. Deeply.

No one deserved love more than Lola, but sometimes the fact that she was fucking Tino’s uncle got uncomfortable for him.

“Payback,” Nova said without looking up. “Do you hear the shit that leaves your mouth? Your whole life is one forced, awkward situation after another. You just don’t notice.”

“You’re a dick tonight,” Tino had to point out. “Worse than usual.”

“True.” Nova glanced up, and a look of longing crossed his face as he stared at Lola and Carlo.

That was enough to make Tino turn back.

No one avoided relationships more than Nova, so it wasn’t until Tino saw Carlo with his mouth open at Lola’s bidding and the small white pill on his tongue that Tino understood.

Ecstasy.

Nova’s first true love.

“How do you know it’s clean?” Tino barked at both of them because he spent enough time in the club scene to see a lot of bad molly.

Hell, he used to sell the good stuff for his father before he was promoted to mafia assassin.

Not that Tino would consider that a step up.

He hit Carlo’s leg. “You just open your mouth and take what she’s giving you? ”

“Most days,” Carlo said with a grin.

Lola huffed at Tino. “You think I’d give him bad shit?”

“I…” Tino started, because he supposed that could be considered an insult. “No. I don’t think you’d intentionally give him bad shit.” He glanced to Nova for help, but Nova had looked back to his phone, so Tino had to ask Lola, “Did you at least test it?”

“Carina has testing kits at the door,” Lola said indignantly. “What do you think?”

“Yeah, Carina did that,” Nova muttered under his breath. “She thinks of everything.”

Tino turned back to Nova because if Nova had supplied them, Tino would have been more inclined to trust that the night wasn’t going to end with a tragedy. If anyone knew where to find solid MDMA testing kits, it was Nova.

“Did you set up the testing kits? Is it our shit they’re taking or something dirty from the cartel?”

Nova just lifted his head and gave Tino a look of annoyance, clearly insulted he’d even ask.

“Okay, whatever then.” Tino threw up his hands. “Have fun.”

Lola wasn’t heavy into drugs like so many Lost Girls who were trying to figure out how to survive the lifetime of emotional trauma being born a sex slave caused.

Weed, sure, but not much more than that.

Tino wasn’t sure what had her feeling so rebellious tonight, when she and Carlo usually never met in public, but who was Tino to deny her a night of fun?

She’d earned it.

Lola pushed off Carlo’s leather jacket because ecstasy caused body temperature to rise quickly.

She tossed the jacket at Tino. Then she worked systematically at ridding Carlo of his weapons, making it obvious she’d done this routine a hundred times before.

By the time she was done, Tino had a stack of guns and knives on his lap, and people were starting to notice.

Carlo and Lola didn’t seem to care as she jumped off him. She reached for Carlo’s hand, forcing him to his feet. Then, Lola turned back to Tino and flipped her curls over her shoulder before she gave him a wide, playful smile under the curves of her feathered mask.

“For you and your pretty girl.” She tossed a small plastic baggie on Tino’s lap that slipped past Carlo’s Beretta to be hidden somewhere in Carlo’s jacket. “Life’s too short, Tino.”

Tino nodded. “True that.”

“Take care of my shit,” Carlo warned him.

“Yeah, ’cause that’s why I’m here,” Tino said sarcastically. “As soon as my girl’s done with her set, I’m off duty, and I don’t give a fuck what happens to your shit.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Nova said, like it was second nature to make sure everything got handled. “We’ll put them in your room.”

“I have a room?” Carlo asked in surprise.

“We labeled them. Your name’s on the door. Just look. You’ll find it.”

“Nice to have the right last name.” Carlo looked like Christmas had come early as he glanced back at Lola, eyeing her tight black dress. His gaze was dark, possessive, as he said loud enough for them to hear, “I like everyone seeing you’re mine.”

“I thought you might.” Lola sounded almost shy about it before she gave him a coy look. “So, dance with me.”

Carlo didn’t need to be told twice.

Tino watched them disappear in a sea of masked partiers and asked Nova, “You think the mask hides her enough?”

“Probably not.” Nova sounded as concerned as Tino felt. “But I doubt anyone is looking at her face. That dress is pretty fucking distracting.”

That reminded Tino of the look of longing on Nova’s face, and he found the baggie underneath Carlo’s Beretta.

Tino held it up, eyeing the four pills inside, and he saw the same lustful expression cross Nova’s face.

Just as quickly, Nova looked back to his phone dismissively, even though it was blatantly obvious it was the drugs, not love and affection, that Nova was craving.

So, Tino had to ask, “You don’t want it?”

“Nope.” Nova didn’t look up as he said it, his concentration completely on his phone.

“How’d you just give it up?” Tino started setting all the guns on the coffee table as he said, “I don’t understand how that happens.”