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LORENZO
Ibring the glass of wine to my lips while Blade continues on about a poker game he wants me to attend. I’m not much of a poker player. That’s Settimo’s hobby. I like Blade, so I humor him anyway.
Like me, he’s a caporegime and a damn good one. He took the position at only twenty-seven and has had it for two years now. So far, my father has not regretted the decision, although it was mostly Settimo’s.
My father’s position as don has merely been a formality for the past few years. If he wasn’t such a stubborn, prideful man, he would’ve given it up to Settimo by now.
Speak of the Devil.
Settimo walks into the banquet hall dressed in a suit meant to impress. His hands are in his pockets, and he casually strolls past a few people lingering by the door, nodding as a passing greeting.
I swallow the wine and cough before excusing myself from Blade to meet Settimo by the bar.
“Hm,” I say, leaning against the bar while Settimo’s drink is made. “I could have sworn you would be busy tonight.”
Settimo glances at me then picks up the fresh poured brandy. He takes a swig and looks out over the banquet hall. Only about a quarter of the room is being used, and twenty or so people are in attendance. I wanted an audience, but there are only so many trustworthy people. There are also only so many people I know who would enjoy something like this.
Settimo is one of them. I do believe he has a conscience because he seems wildly uncomfortable admitting his intrigue of such things. But the way he scans the room, looking for the girl, lust in his eyes, I don’t think he’s even trying to lie to himself this time.
“Anthony still not here?” he asks, no hint of surprise in his tone.
“Not yet.” I lift my wrist to check my watch and remember I gave it to Amelia. I pull my phone from my pocket and note the time. 7:01. Amelia and Anthony are both officially late.
With a sigh, I put my phone back in my pocket. I expect frustration to flare, or at least annoyance, but I’m surprised when neither of those things surface.
I’m going to punish her. Not here, not for being late at least. Tonight is her punishment for having my animals taken from me, and if I’m being honest, it’s probably enough to cover her latest infractions. But I warned her about this, and when we leave here, she’ll have to pay for that, too. The scenario of her bent over my knee with my palm connecting with her ass does things to me. Blood rushes to my dick, and my heart pounds. I wouldn’t say I’m ashamed of this reaction, but suddenly I better understand why Settimo doesn’t admit to his kinks.
“What’s behind the curtain?” Settimo asks, gesturing toward the red velvet curtain circling the middle of the room.
“You’ll see,” I say, one side of my lips lifting.
The other part of the banquet hall is blocked off by black curtains far less extravagant, but those were already there. These red, velvet ones I had to have specially installed for this occasion.
Settimo takes another drink of brandy while staring at the curtain. He sets his glass on the bar and proceeds to fill me in on the golf game with the prospective clientele. I half listen and nod while he talks, and I keep my eyes on the door. Anthony already told me everything I need to know about what they worked out with the men today, but I let Settimo go on because I suspect he’s talking to distract himself.
At exactly 7:04, Amelia and Joe walk through the entrance.
I planned to head their way as soon as they arrived, eager to introduce my guest of honor, but I can’t. I’m rooted in place. My rapidly beating heart stops, as does my breathing.
Settimo must notice my reaction because he turns to follow my gaze.
Amelia hangs back behind Joe, her arms covering her chest where the bodice exposes her cleavage. Her legs press tightly together, and her eyes dart around the room. Her hair is pulled up with a few curls dangling over her cheeks. Silver, diamond earrings hang inches beneath her lobes. Black and orange makeup covers her face in tiger stripes. The white bodice flares out at the end, creating a skirt appearance with white panties peeking through.
It’s revealing and meant to be enticing, but the way she wears it strikes me as an elegance completely out of place. It might as well be her wedding day.
Somebody to her left whistles, and she twists her body that way, her eyes frantic. Her ass hangs out part way, teasingly, but it isn’t the first eye-catching thing. A tiger tail is attached to the bodice and hangs from her backside. I debated long and hard about using a plug to keep it in place, but I was too concerned with it interfering with the performance I have planned for her.
This is perfect. She looks… beautiful.
“That’s her, huh?”
Settimo’s voice breaks my concentration, and I blink, flicking my gaze his way. His eyes are locked on Amelia.
“She’s cute.”
Cute? I balk internally at the understatement and set my glass on the bar. “Excuse me.”
I walk to Joe and Amelia, despite my legs seemingly hardening to stone. When I reach her, Joe frowns apologetically and forces Amelia in front of him.
