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And if you were a member of the family, you always got whatever you wanted, did whatever you wanted, and went wherever you wanted - no questions asked.
So, yeah, I guess I’m a little spoiled in that way, but whatever.
That doesn’t mean I’m a bad person. I’ve still got a heart, for fuck’s sake. It just comes with a little baggage attached. I’m used to getting my way, that’s all I’m saying.
So, when I walked into the biker bar on the edge of Queens, I thought I knew exactly what I was in for. My best friend, Bella Balducci, had already tested the waters, and she came out relatively unscathed. Sure, she had a little trouble walking the next day, but it was a good kind of pain, she’d insisted.
All the raving I’d been forced to listen to had planted a little seed of curiosity. I decided I needed to find out for myself if banging a biker was really as thrilling as she said. Of course, I didn’t tell Bella I was coming. In fact, I hadn’t told anyone, because the information would have been relayed to my father quicker than lightening, and he’d find a way to keep me locked up inside his proverbial castle in Howard Beach under the watchful eyes of his goons for months and there was no way I was going through that hell again.
I’d learned the hard way just how unpleasant that could be.
So, I kept it to myself. Which only added to the wicked deliciousness that I felt as I strode through the doors of Otto’s and saw all heads turn my way.
I’d dressed the part. I’d worn a tight black tank that dipped to a low v in front. Tight jeans hugged my hips, and I had them tucked into a pair of black leather harnessed biker boots.
I lifted my chin, pushed out my tits, and threw my shoulders back, flipping my long black waves over my shoulder as I walked to the bar.
A sweet ripple of pleasure washed over me and I smiled to myself.
Tonight, I could be anyone I wanted.
I wasn’t Gabriella Loprinzi, daughter of the biggest mafia boss in Queens.
I wasn’t the devoted daughter who wouldn’t dare to step outside of her circle of friends and family for a good time. I wasn’t the girl that made every guy she was interested in run away as soon as he found out her last name. I wasn’t the girl that always made sure not to cause any waves so that I didn’t attract any undue attention to the family.
No, tonight I was just Gabby.
No infamous family. No baggage. No expectations.
Well, there was one expectation, but it was my own. I had every expectation of ending this night in one of these biker’s beds, and once I was safely returned to my perfect, boring life, I was going to regale Bella with every juicy detail.
“Whiskey, neat.” The bartender looked me over and I stared straight into his eyes, daring him to ask for my ID. I had one, of course. Two, actually. I was just two weeks shy of my twenty-first birthday, so I still had my fake one if he asked. The two ID’s were identical copies. You’d be amazed what high-quality fakes money can buy in New York City. I guess I passed muster because he turned away after snagging a quick look at my cleavage and began pouring.
I took a moment to scan the room, my eyes slowly raking over the crowd. Almost everyone but the bartender wore a patched leather vest. Men of every size and shape filled the room, but even the smallest of them looked tough as a pit bull.
Maybe tough was an understatement.
They looked worn, scarred, even a little dirty. More importantly, they looked as if they were no strangers to violence.
A thread of fear wormed its way into my heart and I swallowed hard.
These weren’t your normal men. At least not the kind of men I was used to…
The ones on every corner that nodded to me with respect when I walked by.
No, these guys were ruggedly masculine. They were rough riders born of an entirely different cloth than the spunky Italian boys I was used to.
And they had no idea who I was.
Heat flushed over me as my eyes clashed with a man standing in the corner. He looked like he could tear me apart with his bare hands and the intense look in his eyes was unmistakeable and undeniable.
Lust.
I shuddered when I realized that was why I had come here, and yet now I wasn’t so sure I could truly handle it.
I tore my eyes from his intense gaze and continued sweeping the room.
It was then I noticed I was the only woman in the entire bar. Shit, I thought. I scanned the room one more time, hoping that wasn’t truly the case. I’d hoped for a little backup, but as far as I could make out, I was the only one foolish enough to put herself in this situation.
That thread of fear grew to a slow, terrifying throb and I gratefully took a sip of the whiskey as soon as the bartender sat it down in front of me. I threw down a twenty, and it was promptly scooped up by a hand that quickly descended from my right and plopped it right back in front of me.
“Put it on my tab, Tony,” a deep voice said next to me. I turned to my right and stared into a pair of very dark eyes that belonged to the most handsome face I’d ever seen.
He was huge, not just tall, but he had incredibly wide shoulders. He towered over me, his eyes peering deeply into mine, sending shocks of electricity through my limbs.
“Thank you,” I managed to utter, my voice catching as I stared up at him. He was handsome, sure, but there was something else about him. A confidence, a self-awareness that hit me hard. He wasn’t the kind of man you’d argue with. That’s why I allowed him to buy my drink, even though my first instinct was to protest. I didn’t want to owe him anything.
The set of his jaw told me his offer was non-negotiable.
“You look a little out of place, darlin’,” he mumbled. I tore my eyes from his, raking them across his face and down to his huge barrel-chest which was draped in a black t-shirt with a black leather cut slung across his wide shoulders.
“Dante?” I said, reading the name from the patch on the front of his cut.
“That’s right. And you are?” He raised an eyebrow, the light from the bar reflecting in his eyes, which I saw now actually consisted of endless pools of inky blackness, with tiny slivers of chocolate brown flecks. I wanted to stare into them forever. But I didn’t. It was too much. It was like staring into the sun.
My hands had been shaking with nervousness since I’d walked into the place, but now, under the heat of his gaze, I began sweating, my heart began pounding violently in my chest and my breath caught in my throat.
Luckily, we were interrupted before I hyperventilated.
What might have been a perfectly thrilling moment took a sharp turn. I’ll never know what might have happened if Dante and I hadn’t been interrupted… Maybe we would have had a few drinks, flirted a little, snuck off to the back for a little fun before going our separate ways. I’d have went back to my happy little life with a fun and sexy story to rival Bella’s.
But it didn’t go down like that.
Because what happened next hurled us into each other’s lives with the force of a rocket exploding into space.
It was earth-shatteringly loud.
It was violently messy.
It was monumentally life-changing.
And I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Dante
“Looks like you two are lost,” the deep voice boomed behind us. The girl and I turned at the same time.
“Just having a drink, that’s all,” I replied, sizing up the guy. He was big, no doubt… But I was bigger. Fear was an emotion that I didn’t waste time on, so I wasn’t about to back down to him.
“Otto’s belongs to us,” he growled, running his hand over his greying beard.
“I don’t see that posted anywhere,” I replied. “It’s a public place.”
“Don’t matter. You ain’t one of us,” he sneered, turning and lewdly leering at the girl at my side. I didn’t know her name yet, but I wasn’t about to let this asshole look at her like that. I took a step to my right, gently pushing her behind me.
“Look, brother. We’re just having a drink. Not looking for any trouble.”
Two of his buddies saddled up next to him as I remained calm, lifting up a glass and polishing off my beer.
“We aren’t familiar with your club,” his buddy said, nodding at the Outlaw Kings MC patch on my cut.
“We aren’t one percenters,” I replied.
“Yeah, well we are,” he crossed his hands over his chest. He was doing his best to intimidate me but that was fucking impossible. He just didn’t know it yet.
“Look, the lady is going to finish her drink and we’ll be on our way,” I said, turning back to the bar. I didn’t want to put my back to them, but it was the only way to move things along. I wasn’t in the mood for a fight. I was never in the mood for a fight. In fact, fighting was at the very last of my list of preferred resources. Again, not because of fear, but because hurting people never really turned me on. If this was going to turn into a fight, then I’d rather hurry up and get it over with.
