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Giovanni’s shoulders tighten. “What was that?” he asks, inclining his head, the threat in his words clear.
But Maximo is Maximo and he doesn’t head the warning, once again turning his back on his brother. Giovanni’s fingers twitch and I’m convinced he’s going to shoot his brother, but instead, he settles for glaring at the back of his head.
Maximo’s still in my personal space and he catches me off guard when he touches my leg again, as if needing to assure himself the brace is still there.
I don’t know what rocks me to my core more, the concern or the touch.
I know Maximo isn’t as completely evil as I once thought. The emotions he shows for Enzo, even if exercised like a psychopath, shows he’s capable of his own version of love and caring.
But him caring for me…
That’s new.
He once hugged me to try to help stave off a panic attack after I was kidnapped, but that had been under extenuating circumstances.
Thisis different.
And I don’t hate it.
Maximo leans close to me, his warm breath whispering along my skin and sending a shiver through my body. “Take it easy, Winter. I’d hate to have to punish you if you don’t.”
I don’t know whether to take his words as a comfort or a threat.
But before I can think too long about it, he turns to Amadeo. “Take care of her or it’ll be your head, yes, Amadeo?”
He doesn’t give Amadeo a chance to respond before he’s moving out of the front door, disappearing as quickly as he appeared.
***
The first time I’d stepped foot in Delirium I’d been in awe. That awe had quickly worn off when I’d found out I’d be working there. And when I’d started to deal with the entitled, far too handsy, clientele, I’d been ready to run away.
But now, I can’t help but to take comfort as I step back into the club for the first time in a while. It’s become a bit of a home for me, a place that I can forget about the other chaos going on in my life and just be a regular person.
Most of my coworkers were either wary of me or fake because of my connection to Giovanni, but it’d gotten better. Once that wall had been knocked down, it’d been even easier to fall into place.
My eyes move around the club even as I feel Amadeo at my back. He doesn’t touch me, he rarely does, but I can still feel the weight of his glare on the back of my neck, the silent urgence for me to move my feet.
But I don’t.
The club isn’t as busy as it usually is, and I have to wonder if maybe people have gotten whispers that something is cooking within The Costa family. But then again, these are the same idiots who came back to the club only a day after it was shot up, multiple times.
So maybe it’s just a slow night.
I finally move, heading in the direction of the bar. I’m not sure who’s in charge these days, since Enzo had to kill the old manager Todd, who’s been working with the Cartel to move product under the Costa’s nose in their territory.
The last I’d heard Giovanni had taken over operations himself, but I doubt he’s doing so with everything else currently going on. I stop in front of the bar, waving at the bartender, Dave who’s fixing a drink. His eyes widen in shock before he returns my grin. “Winter!” he yells, sliding a drink along the bar to one of the patrons before moving over to me.
He reaches over the bar to hug me but a hand locks around his wrist. “No touching,” Amadeo orders and I don’t have to look at him to see the terrifying image he poses.
I roll my eyes, even as Dave hastily leans back to his side of the bar. He almost knocks a liquor bottle off the bar in his haste.
I scowl up at Amadeo. “You’re worse than Enzo.”
“Yes, well, Enzo is fucking a Costa, which means he can get away with much more than me. If someone were to hurt you because I’m slacking in my job, my head would be rolling before I had the time to explain.” This is more words than I usually get from him, but even still they’re completely dry.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Well, you can go sulk off into one of your corners now. I’m going to clock in.”
His nose wrinkles and I can tell he’s debating before he finally nods his head. “Fine.”
