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Killing is simple with a gun and I only use it when I'm giving mercy, but when it comes to torture, I like to use my favorite sleek straight blade. A dagger that has been given to me by my father. The same blade I used to kill my first man and received my button intola famiglia. I may sound a bit psychotic and cold, but I've been trained in this life and in this thing of ours, you have to sometimes be emotionally detached to succeed.

Distracting her from the looks we’re receiving, I ask, “Will you be singing tonight? I would love to watch you perform here, in my club.” I pass her the drink and watch her place the straw between her alluring nude color lips. Lips I would kill to be balls deep in.

“This is your club? As in, you’re the owner?” she asks after taking a drink.

“Sì, this is my club. Well, mine and my brother Marco’s. We just opened it. Do you like it?” She looks around, stopping on the mural behind the bar. A mural I had a famous street artist paint to my specifications.

Still staring at the painting, she says, “Yes, it’s beautiful here. Seems to be very popular too.” Looking back at me, her eyes stray to my mouth. I see her tongue peek out to wet her lips before she continues, “And yes, I’ll be singing for you.” She is bewitching. I want to kiss her so badly and soon, I will.

"Good." I'd love to have her voice saturate the walls. “I’ll have the DJ alerted,” I tell her as she continues to sip on her drink.

I see Marco coming toward us with a knowing smirk. Asshole. Out of the six children our parents had, he and I were the wildest. Always getting into fights and schemes. Now that we’re made men under our father, we’ve settled down into our roles as future boss and underboss. We’re not the only ones to be close in age, though. It seems our parents were pregnant more often than not in the first decade of their marriage. Being twenty-six I’m the oldest, but a year later Marco was born, then Drake, Nico, and finally our twin sisters Gavriella and Marcia. Our whole family is very close, but Marco and I are best friends as well as brothers.

When Marco reaches us, he claps me on the shoulder, “Ciao,fratello. Hello, Sia.” He gives her the charming smile he's known for.

“Hello, person who knows my name,” Sia says with cheekiness.

Laughing, I gesture. “This is my younger brother Marco. He knows your name because well, everyone knows it and because he and my other brothers were there the night you sang at Medusa’s.”

He politely takes her hand and even though he’s my brother I can’t help but want to cut his hand off. All Renzetti men are possessive fuckers. Same goes for my father, who has killed a man for something he said about our mother.

Looking at Marco, I tell him, “She’ll be singing here tonight. Please tell Ruben to have the stage ready for her.”

“Of course. I’m sure everyone would love to see a performance from The Manhattan Singer,” he tells her with another charming smile that I'm ready to knock off his face. As if he hears my thoughts, he turns to me with a serious look. “Ma wants you to call her. Says she has news for you.”

Hmm, must be about the meeting she had this afternoon. Nodding, I stand. “I’ll be back in a moment,bella. Please enjoy your drink and the DJ will be ready when you are.”

“Okay, I’m just going to go find Carla and let her know. Thank you and it was good to meet you, Marco.Buonasera, have a good evening.” She says it perfectly and I have to hold myself back from laying claim to her mouth. Instead, I kiss her wrist again and head to the private elevator that leads to the third floor.

Once inside the elevator, Marco says, “She’s fucking beautiful, brother. Ma will love her.”

“I’m not thinking that far ahead just yet, Marco, but yes, she is beautiful and she’s mine, so keep your fucking eyes off and quit smiling at her like some melodrama villain.” I open the office door.

Laughing, he rolls his eyes. “Fuck off, I know she’s yours, Gavi. Besides, I’m more into wild redheads like her friend, but don’t blame me when people start to put two and two together and figure out that she’s the woman in the mural out there painted in the nude, no less.”

It’s true.

The mural was painted with her in mind, but just slightly different so that no one, outside of Marco and me, would know it truly is her. I’m not even the slightest bit ashamed. This whole club was designed with her in the details. The week before I saw Sia sing in person, Marco and I bought this building and began remodeling it, but after watching her performance I had the theme made into what it is today. Temptation.

My mother and father loved it, but then again, they might be just a bit biased, but my sisters are my harshest critics out of the family and they approved of every detail, including the mural.

Shrugging, I pick up the phone and dial our mother while Marco watches the club through the wall of windows.

“Ciao,figlio mio. How is the club’s opening going?” My mother’s soft voice comes through the phone. She is the glue to this family. A religion to my father who taught us the number one rule for our family: when Mother speaks, we listen.

“Ciao, Mamma. It’s going well. It’ll be a success just as the others. How was your meeting with the governor's wife? Well I hope.” I’m really looking forward to having information about Sia. I look out the window and see her making her way to Carla, who is dancing with two men. I glance at Marco and see his teeth grinding, which makes me smirk as I turn away and listen to my mother.

“Si, figlio. It was a long day of emotions. I wanted to tell you in person, but I could not hold this information much longer. Your father will want to know right away. You’ll need to come to the mansion as soon as possible and bring Anastasia with you. Marco said she's with you, no?” I’ve never heard my mother speak so seriously and she only calls a meeting when it’s something truly important.

Worriedly I ask, “What happened? Were you able to get the documents for her?”

“Yes, I did, that’s what it’s about. I had my suspicions when you told me her name but I brushed it off because she was supposed to be...” She cuts her rambling off and pauses for a moment. On a heavy exhale she says, “She’s Frankie’s daughter.”

Before I can say anything, though, Marco yells, “Carla!” and rushes past me.

Merda.


Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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