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Guila Bianchi.

Andrea’s sister.

Dammit all to hell.

My biggest rival has to have a sister that’s sexy as fuck. I can never have her, which goes against everything I stand for. If I see something I like, I get it. No matter what.

I sigh and decide to go back to the table when she raises her hands in the air and sways some more, tracing her hands back down her body. My cock twitches, and I decide to sit back down before I get too excited and do something we all regret.

I give her one more once over, but as I look up her body, my eyes meet hers, and I completely forget how to breathe.

CHAPTER THREE

ANDREA

Isip the sharp whiskey and watch as Gia takes her time to get out of the pool. She’s being excruciatingly slow. She wraps her towel around her and puts her sandals on before she walks over, her eyes wide. I wonder how much she heard, if she was paying attention. She normally doesn’t.

“Sit,” I say as she reaches the table. She sits next to me, between myself and Lorenzo. I set my whiskey down and turn to her, my legs crossed. “Gia, I know you don’t like to get involved in family business, but there is something we need to discuss now because our family is at risk.”

Gia nods but doesn’t say anything, so I continue.

“We need to acquire some casinos to prevent the Ricci family from getting too powerful. To do that, we need you to marry,” I sip my whiskey, avoiding eye contact with her initially.

“No,” she says quietly. “I won’t.”

It pains me to do this to her. “I will speak to Juliano Russo later today to make wedding arrangements. His son Michael is a good-looking man, and he can provide for you. Gia, you will be happy.”

“I won’t,” she protests, raising her voice. “I won’t be happy and I won’t fucking do it. I don’t want to marry Michael. I don’t give a fuck….”

I slam my hand onto the table, rattling the glass top and glasses sitting on top of it. Gia falls silent and stares at me with big eyes. Those big eyes, that I have given everything to. My chest is tight looking at her, but this has to happen.

“You will do as you’re told, Giulia. You will obey me and do this for our family. No arguments.” I down my whiskey. “Leave. We have business to discuss.”

She gets up with a huff and storms off, heading back into the house without a backward glance. She’s angry now, but she’ll learn to appreciate that you can’t do nothing all day and expect everything to land in your lap. Sacrifices need to be made. I love my sister, and that Russo boy seems mild enough to please her.

I turn back to the associates and my brother, looking at Mickey and Darren, then a stack of papers on the table in front of Mickey. They’re all silent, their faces unreadable.

“Tell me about the shipment.”

Mickey works through the papers, running through every possible scenario with me. I listen intently, taking my time to think of the best way forward. It was a hard lesson my father taught me: thinking before I act.

Darren takes over and starts talking about the casinos again. This time Lorenzo steps into the discussion, debating which of the casinos we should take.

“We’ll have to see what Russo will give us for Gia, and what we can afford,” Lorenzo says.

I frown. He makes it sound like I’m selling my sister off. It isn’t like that. This is just business. It’s not the same thing, right?

Lorenzo doesn’t notice my discomfort as he continues to discuss possibly making a grab for the Magic City Casino because Matteo Ricci would surely aim to have that one, as it’s one of the main casinos in that part of Miami.

The talk starts going in circles, and I finish my fourth whiskey, feeling brave enough to speak to Russo. I raise a hand to silence my men, my brother.

“Go, make sure the shipment goes off without a hitch. We’ll discuss the casinos once I’ve spoken to Russo about the wedding arrangements. I’m headed there now. Lorenzo, make sure Gia behaves herself until I come back.”

I stand up and so do they, but I walk away first, striding through the house and out the front to where my driver is waiting. I climb into the back of the car.

“Take me to the Russo estate.”

“Yes, sir,” Christian says.