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“Don sounds so scary.”
“My father’snota nice guy if that’s what you’re implying.”
“And…and I’m going to meet him?”
“Maybe. He’ll be at my uncle’s homecoming.”
“What about your mother?”
It’s like a light switch. Gio’s demeanor changes again, but this time, he’s tuning out. His face hardens and he withdraws his arm from around me. He gets up off the bed, bare ass and all, and heads for the bathroom.
“No more time to waste,” he says coldly, as if I’m a stranger. “Today’s a big day. Grand opening of the casino.”
He disappears into the bathroom. Even closes the damn door. I sit up, drag the sheets with me like a makeshift toga, and debate if I should be so bold to knock. Though our arrangement is still new, we’ve pretty much lost any pretense of privacy when alone—meaning we don’t shut doors.
I tap lightly and wait. A tinkling noise from inside tells me he’s taking a piss. After the whoosh of the flush, I knock again.
“Falynn, what is it?” He sounds agitated.
It’s moments like these, where I’m dealing with the downsides of our setup, that I wonder if I’m in over my head. Last night, we fought over Gio’s tardiness. Actually, it wasn’t even about being late—it was that he hadn’t thought of me enough to let me know, like he expected to drown in pussy the second he got home no matter howIfelt.
“Did I do something wrong?” I hear myself asking. The voice is so timid-sounding it doesn’t even seem like it’s mine.
The door flies open and he’s on the other side. I can’t place the look on his face. It’s not as hardened as before, but there’s no emotion either. He’s a blank canvas, like he’s emotionally checked out. “No, you didn’t do something wrong,” he answers. “Why would you think that?”
I’m clinging to the toga sheets like a lifeline. It keeps my hands busy to fuss with the fabric. “I don’t know. I asked about your mother and then you—”
“Said I’ve got no more time to waste. Today’s the grand opening of Vittoria’s casino. You know that.”
“Right, it just seems like after I mentioned…” I draw in a breath and then shake my head. “Never mind. What do you need from me?”
“Spend the day as you like. Louis is at your disposal. Tonight, I need you dressed to the nines. You’ll be on my arm for the casino’s celebratory dinner at La Pergola. Can you do that, honey?”
The nickname sweetly rolls off his tongue. He’s softened his tone for me, any trace of agitation gone. I smile and give a nod before he drops a quick kiss on my lips. Though I can’t escape the nagging feelingthisis as open as Giovanni Sorrentino gets.
He’s said it himself. He’s not an emotional man. He doesn’t do vulnerability or closeness. As a man so prominent in the Sorrentino crime family, with countless enemies out there and an empire to run, can I blame him?
It’s important to stay realistic. No matter what kind of feelings I’ve developed for him—and through the haze that’s my constant lust for him, deeper feelings have started to form—I have to accept he’s not the man I want him to be. He’s a Mafia prince, son of King Giuliano Sorrentino, and there’s nothing and no one that’s going to stand in his way of the throne.
Beyoncé and Nicki Minaj had me in mind when they recorded “Feelin’ Myself” years ago. At least that’s what I tell myself as I strut on the arm of Gio hours later. I’ve worn the sexiest dress of my life, a black backless Valentino with daring slits in the fabric, teasing plenty of boobage, legs, and ass. I spent an hour on my makeup, going for a matte finish and dramatic smokey eye. My natural chocolate curls have been straightened and smoothed into a topknot. I have a lot of faults, but I know when and how to turn on the sex appeal.
It was part of the job as a dancer at the Dollhouse.
Every man we pass stops and stares. Their eyes sweep up and down my body then face as I hold on to Gio and we approach the game floor.
The opening of the Vittoria has been a massive, record-breaking success. Though I wound up lounging by the penthouse pool for most of the day, I followed the Vittoria’s opening on social media (with Louis close by, monitoring my activity). Giovanni had been right—the day was an incredibly busy one as co-owner and manager of Vegas’s newest, hottest resort and casino.
There were hundreds of millions to be made. More money than I’d ever see in my lifetime.
But I had to do my part—be sexy and sultry on Gio’s arm. We stop at a blackjack table, surrounded by a large crowd of people watching on in interest. Gio’s the man of not only the hour, but the day.
He oversees the first blackjack table to play a round in the entire casino. I’m at his side, paying attention to the game. Dozens of others crowd around the players at the table, abuzz with chatter. Once the first game ends, Gio announces to the crowd that all tables and games are officially open to play.
I look up at the crowd. Hundreds of eyes are on us. A strange sensation flutters in my stomach. The kind you get when someone menacing could be watching you. I peek over my bare shoulder and glance at the faceless strangers. None of them stand out as problematic. Besides, Gio’s covered by his men. Robby, Louis, and others circle us like a wall of protection from anyone.
We’re completely safe.I’mcompletely safe. I shouldn’t feel in danger.
And yet I do. The uneasy, fluttery feeling continues as I scan the rest of the casino floor. I can’t put my finger on it, but something’s off about tonight. Let’s just hope it’s only the paranoia talking.
