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The room is filled with smoke from expensive cigars everyone’s holding, and there are women in various states of undress positioned in strategic spots around the room. Men tuck money in their panties and bras, copping a feel here and there.
I follow the steps to the raised area and all the color drains from my face when I realize who I’m here to meet.
“You?” I whisper.
“Me,” Bruno Bernardi laughs out loud before a coughing fit takes over and he doubles over in pain. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’ve been a little under the weather lately. But I had to speak to you tonight.”
I take a seat in front of him, and the waiter brings our drinks. I’m silent, wondering why Bruno
Bernardi would bring me here. I know he’s Julian’s adoptive father… and he knows I’m the girl Julian slept with before he was adopted, ruining my reputation with Papa. After all, Bruno was with my father when they walked in on Julian and me.
“I need you to do me a favor,” I finally say when the waiter leaves.
“With what, pray tell?”
“Julian,” I mutter. “I want him to stay away from me.”
Bruno laughs out loud, throwing his head back. “Julian has always been independent, Francesca. Once he wants something, he refuses to leave it alone. I would’ve thought you’d learned that lesson by now?”
I purse my lips and cross my arms.
“What am I doing here, signore Bernardi?”
“Good fucking question,” he mutters. “As you know, I’m a long-time family friend of your father’s.”
“Not that it stopped you from abandoning my family when we were discarded like yesterday’s trash,” I hiss. “Just like everybody else did.”
“I’d watch your tongue if I were you, signorina Esposito.” His burning eyes scare me, so I swallow my next reply. “But good point. I should’ve been a better friend. It’s just… I’ve never been the biggest fan of your papa. He’s a bit of a prick, isn’t he?”
Even though I sometimes agree, I’m not about to betray my father, so I just glare at Bernardi, making him laugh out loud. His laughter is interrupted by another coughing fit, but he doesn’t let it bother him, taking another long drag of his cigar.
“Anyway,” he goes on. “It was never your father I was interested in winning over. It was you.”
“Me?” My eyes widen. “Why me?”
“You’re an eligible bride from a good family. In fact, the night we met, I was speaking to your father about arranging a union between you and one of my sons.”
I vaguely recall the many Bernardi siblings, most of them adopted. My heart speeds up at the thought of Bruno shopping around for a bride for his sons. Is it possible he has Julian in mind?
“Of course, that’s not going to happen now,” Bruno smiles. “I know firsthand that you’re damaged goods, and your family’s fall from grace has been, ah… traumatic.”
“Then why am I here?” I demand. “Why did you make me meet with you?”
“You’re a sharp girl, Francesca,” Bruno mutters. “Look around this room and tell me what you see.”
Curiously, I drink in the patrons of the club. “Debauchery. Money and drugs changing hands.
Weapons. Sex.”
“Who would you say is in charge?”
“You have a pretty excellent position here,” I mutter.
He laughs. “I may have the best seat in the room, but I’m far from the most important man in this room. Why don’t you take another look, Francesca? Think really well before you answer me and observe the world around you carefully.”
I allow my gaze to wander over the room again. It comes to a natural stop on a crowd of about a dozen men gathered around a table. They’re all looking at a laughing, tall, dark, and handsome man who looks like their leader. A man I recognize.
Swallowing thickly, I motion to Antonio Brambilla with my chin. “Him.”
“Ding ding ding,” Bruno smirks. “Antonio doesn’t seem too distraught because his only son is missing. Does he?”
“No,” I admit reluctantly, remembering Leonardo, the student who went missing this summer.
For a brief time, I was engaged to him – before my family’s reputation went to hell. I got to know Antonio then and quickly realized the man was ruthless and unnecessarily cruel to anyone, including his heir.
“I don’t think he’s distraught at all,” Bruno goes on quietly. “In fact, I think he had something to do with it.”
My eyes widen. “You think he made Leonardo disappear?”
“No.” Bruno shakes his head impatiently. “I think his father killed him.”
I swallow thickly. These are some crazy accusations to throw around, especially about a man as powerful as Brambilla.
“Careful,” I mutter. “You wouldn’t want anyone to hear you say that.”
“I’m not afraid. Unfortunately, I can’t get much information out of these men,” he mutters. “And that’s where you come in.”
“How?” I demand, leaning forward. I can’t deny that I’m intrigued. But I also smell opportunity – a way for me to repair my status.
