“Remember, get him to talk about how he acquired the loan,” Rocco reiterates as he tucks a hidden mic into the strap of my dress. “Anything else is a bonus. But leave at the first sign of trouble.”
He goes over this at least five more times on our way over to the club.
There’s something almost heartbreakingly familiar about standing in front of theCandelabraonce more. Everything in my world has been flipped upside down, but there it is, standing tall and proud, exactly the same as the day I left it.
“Shall we?”
I turn to see Rocco offering me his arm. I reach out and take it, finding no small amount of reassurance from his touch.
“Remember,” he whispers in my ear as he reaches out to push open the door. “Tonight, you’remytrophy. Act like it.”
We step through those doors together, only to be greeted with resolute silence.
As my eyes adjust to the mood lighting, I wonder if it’s because the place is entirely empty. But to my dismay, I find instead that every one of the club’s patrons has turned to look at us.
Even Danny, standing on the stage, has faltered in her song. She coughs quickly and tries to recover.
“Rocco,” I hiss nervously, glancing wildly around us.
His arm wraps around my waist as he turns to nuzzle my ear. “Relax. Now, giggle as if I’ve said something funny.”
The sound I make doesn’t feel entirely natural, but it seems to satisfy his request. He leads us both toward the VIP table at the very end of the stage.
I almost wish we could sit at the back of the room. At least that way, Danny wouldn’t be able to glare down at me so much.
Rocco pulls a seat out for me. “Angioletta.”
I sit down awkwardly. “Remind me why this is all necessary?”
Rocco chuckles as he pulls his own chair next to mine, draping a protective, arrogant arm over my shoulder.
Again, he nuzzles into my ear. “My men are under the assumption that I bought you from Lazzaro for a particularpurpose,” he purrs. “I’d like to keep up that appearance as much as possible.”
His mouth grazes on my jaw, and my eyes flutter closed.
“You really think they’d care that much? You didn’t need to dress me up like this.”
His tongue darts out along my neck. “But where is the fun in that?”
Fuck. I can already feel myself getting damp. And this dress is far too revealing for that to lead anywhere good.
“CAS!”
We leap apart like startled teenagers at the sound of Mia’s voice.
The woman I consider to be my oldest friend marches towards us on the warpath—her fiery red hair streaming behind her like a banner.
But she stops just short of our table, eyes practically bulging at the sight of us so close together.
I cross my legs in annoyance. “Mia.”
“You,” she tries, then starts again. “I was so worried about you.”
“I’m fine.”
My words come out far colder than I intend them to. But that old ache in my chest flares up at the sight of her.
She knew who Rocco was and that Claudio had been a mafia man when we were dating. Yet she kept the mafia and the Guild and all the Italian bullshit from me, even though sheknewI was involved.
