Page 11 of Unrelenting (Ruthless Temptations #1)

“Give her my best wishes,” I tell Mario, who nods in agreement.

Lorenzo puts his arm around my shoulder. As we pass Mario on our way to the door, he slips the other man a hundred-euro bill. “Buy something for the kids.”

“I will. Thank you, signore. ”

“Big softie,” I mutter as Lorenzo steers me through the door.

“It’s your good influence,” he replies.

I seriously doubt he gave Mario money just to impress me. Lorenzo strikes me as the sort of man who’s as generous to people he feels deserve it as he’s vicious to those who cross him.

There’s another security guard just inside, manning the scanner. It’s not a simple metal detector. It’s like something you’d see at an airport, with thermal imaging or something that the guard views on a screen as you pass by.

An alarm sounds because Lorenzo is in fact carrying a weapon, but the guard waves him on.

We head up the long flight of stairs and walk into the main part of the club. It’s packed. The dance floor is full of people, and there’s a crowd gathered around the long bar at the side of the room.

The music is loud, and it’s clear everyone’s having a good time. Art is projected onto the wall at the far side of the room.

There’s seating around the dance floor and booths tucked away at the back of the room. It’s hard to make out the décor in this low light, but there are incredible metal sculptures in the alcoves.

A young woman approaches. Tall and blonde, she could be a model. As I look around the room, I realize that all the staff, distinguishable by the black suits or form-fitting dresses they wear, are incredibly attractive. I guess I’m starting to see why this place holds such appeal.

“Signore Volante, welcome.” The blonde has an accent. Russian, maybe? “Please come this way. Your usual seat is ready for you.”

If it’s his usual seat, I wonder why he needs to be escorted to it. It must all part of the service.

We follow the young woman toward a set of stairs, guarded by two Armani-clad demigods who step aside the moment they see us coming.

“Isn’t Violetta working tonight?” Lorenzo asks.

An irritating pang of jealousy spikes inside me, but I tamp it down.

“She was, but there was….” The hostess struggles to find the right thing to say. “An incident with Signore Volante.”

“What incident?” Lorenzo demands as we reach the top of the stairs and find ourselves in the luxuriously decorated VIP area.

It’s quieter than downstairs but still quite busy. There are several local celebrities here, a couple of footballers and a politician who’s here with a woman who is most definitely not his wife.

Discretion must be assured in a place like this because he isn’t even subtle in the way he’s pawing at her breasts.

“I….eh…..your cousin is here. Perhaps he can tell you.”

“Which cousin?”

“Benito,” she replies. “He’s in the office. I can fetch him for you.”

“Do that.” Lorenzo’s tone is a touch impatient.

The hostess rushes off toward a door at the side of the room while Lorenzo ushers me to a booth situated against the back wall. A seat padded with plush black velvet curves around a large table.

There’s a silver bucket of ice with an unopened bottle of champagne sitting in it along with two glasses. There’s also a platter of chocolate-covered strawberries and a single red rose.

“Did you do this?” I ask as I sit and shuffle around the booth to allow Lorenzo to get in next to me. Despite the mezzanine being packed with people, this space is quite private.

“I wanted to give you an enjoyable night. When you agreed to come, I called ahead and asked them to set up my table for us.”

I can’t contain the huge smile that spreads across my face.

“What’s that smile for?” Lorenzo asks as he pops the cork on the champagne.

“I thought your charm was all just talk to get into women’s panties, but it’s not, is it? You’re actually a romantic.”

I swear Lorenzo blushes. He can’t be a stranger to compliments. Women must fawn over him all the time, but he seems genuinely touched by my comments.

“If I am, it’s because you bring out that side of me.” He pours two glasses of champagne and hands one to me. He raises his glass. “To the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

I raise my glass. “To the most surprising man I’ve ever met.”

Lorenzo hesitates. “Surprising in a good way, I assume.”

I nod and we clink our glasses together. As I sip the cool, crisp champagne, a man approaches the table.

Impeccably dressed in a three-piece suit, he’s tall and broad-shouldered. I recognize him as a customer from my restaurant, but I didn’t realize he was related to Lorenzo.

He takes a seat at the end of the booth.

“Lucia, this is my cousin Benito Palmieri.”

The newcomer nods. “And you need no introduction, Ms. Lazaro. I’ve dined at Gianetta’s many times, even in your grandmother’s day.”

“You’re from Florence?” I ask because Lorenzo and his brother are originally from Rome.

“I am. My father is brother to Lorenzo’s mother. Our family has lived in Florence for several generations.”

Lorenzo clears his throat, unhappy, I think, with his cousin sharing information about the family. “Where’s Damiano?”

Benito shoots an anxious look in my direction.

“You can speak in front of Lucia,” Lorenzo says. “Unless it’s something that might end up in front of a judge.”

Benito shrugs. “Who knows where this will end up.”

“Tell me what happened.” Lorenzo’s tone is impatient.

“There was a little trouble earlier. Damiano had to get Giulia out of here. That kid from Cetona, the one who’s been watching Gabriele’s house, was talking to her.

Damiano sent her home and locked the kid in the storeroom.

Before we could interrogate the little shit, Violetta let him loose.

Damiano has taken her somewhere quiet to find out what she was thinking. ”

Aside from Damiano and Gabriele, I don’t know who any of the other people he mentioned are, but it sounds like a complicated situation.

Lorenzo thanks Benito for the information, effectively dismissing him.

Twisting the stem of his glass back and forth, he stares into space, distracted by his thoughts.

“Do we need to leave?” I ask. “It sounds like there’s a lot going on.”

Lorenzo turns to me and shakes his head.

“It sounds like Damiano has everything in hand. I’d rather be here with you than dealing with family shit.”

He picks up one of the chocolate-covered strawberries and holds it up to my mouth. I part my lips and take a bite. It’s so delicious I can’t help moaning.

Lorenzo drops the remaining piece of strawberry back onto the plate. His eyes gleam with desire as he leans in to kiss me.

“Hmm,” he murmurs as he flicks his tongue out to taste my lips. “So sweet.”

I expect him to kiss me some more, but he surprises me by getting to his feet. He holds his hand out to me. “Come dance with me.”

Though it’s an invitation, I doubt he’ll accept a refusal. I wouldn’t turn him down in any case. I love to dance. It’s not something I get the chance to do very often, and certainly not with such an incredibly sexy partner.

As I take his hand and allow him to pull me up from the seat, he beckons one of the security guards who’re positioned around the room to come over.

“Don’t let anyone near the table,” he instructs.

“Of course, signore .” The security guard nods.

Lorenzo leads me back through the busy VIP section. People make way to let him pass. Even among important men, there’s no doubting that he’s the alpha in the room.

“Is everyone afraid of you?” I ask as he leads me downstairs.

“Not everyone.” He turns and brushes his fingers across my cheek. “You aren’t.”

I smile softly, but I’m not sure that’s true. I do fear Lorenzo, or at least what he could do to me.

Every second I spend in his company, I feel myself being drawn closer to him.

With a few harsh words, this man could shatter me completely, and that’s a terrifying thought.