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"Whether fighting on the streets or in the boardroom, how different can it be, eh?" He widens his stance. "Besides, this is my chance to increase the scope of what I do and learn something new. I can’t be stuck as an enforcer forever."
"That’s true," I move toward him, "and I think you’re right thinking of growing your skillset. I think you’d be a natural in the boardroom, actually. It’s just right now, I really need this position. If it means I can get in with the Bratva and the Kane Company, and work out a plan with them, perhaps I stand a chance at putting thisstronzoCosta in his place, without disturbing the balance of power too much."
Luca’s jaw tics. "Fuck." He drags his fingers through his hair."Porca puttana!"He drains his glass then throws it at the opposite wall, where it shatters. The shards crash to the floor. He shakes his head as if to clear it, then jerks his chin. "Fine, but you owe me."
"Grazie, fratello, you have no idea what this means to me." I grip his shoulder but he shakes it off.
"Just because I agreed to this, doesn’t mean I’m happy," he warns.
"I’m aware, and I’ll make it up to you."
"We’ll see," he says in a grudging tone.
Before I can respond, there’s a knock on the door.
17
Elsa
I peek inside the doorway, and the tension in the room hits me like a kick to the face in47 Ronin. Jesus, it feels like a war-room in here. There are four men, but my gaze hones in on him.
He tilts his head, no change in expression on his face. He’s wearing another of those black suits he seems to favor. Expensively cut, they cling to the breadth of his shoulders. His silk tie—also black— is a contrast to his snowy white shirt. His hair is swept back from his face, and the length is a tad too long to be considered stylish. A lock of hair falls over his forehead. He slides his hand inside his pocket and surveys my features. Damn, he’s going to force me to make the first move, apparently. Not that I blame him, after what I said to him the last time we spoke.
I mean, what was I going to say? Sorry I was nasty to you the last time we spoke. Sorry I didn’t respond to your offer. Sorry I’m not sure if I could have you for my Dom. Sorry… if you were my Dom, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from getting too deeply involved with you. The thought of him commanding me, ordering me, dominating me, telling me what to do, what to wear, what to eat, and taking care of my needs in bed, sends a shiver of anticipation down my back.
No, no, no. I can’t do this. One taste of his power and I’d be addicted. I’d grow dependent on him. I wouldn’t be able to live without him, and then what would I do when he decided he’d had enough of me? How would I be able to function? How would I be able to take care of my child if I couldn’t even take care of myself?
On the other hand, if anyone can stand up to my ex, it’s him. Seeing them together had shown me how much more overpowering Seb is. Oh, Fabio isn’t a weakling, by any means. But face-to-face, Seb easily wins in the personality department. Fabio’s more classically good-looking. He seems like the respectable kind of man you’d take home to meet your mother. But looks can be deceiving. Seb, on the other hand, looks darker, meaner, and even wearing one of his suits, there’s something so untamed about him.
Next to him, Luca widens his stance.
Adrian pushes away from the bar and walks toward me. "Elsa, how are you?" He takes my hand and kisses it.
There’s a low growl from behind him. I glance around him to find Seb glowering at the two of us. Is he jealous? Surely not.
Adrian chuckles. "We were just leaving." He turns to glance at his brothers over his shoulders. "Weren’t we,stronzos?"
"Yes, we were," Massimo agrees. He prowls over to us. He’s the tallest and the broadest of the brothers. "I’d kiss your hand like Adrian here, but I fear my brother would have a cardiac episode if I did." His lips twitch. He follows Adrian through the door.
Luca is the last to follow. He and Seb exchange a look before Luca stalks over to me. He jerks his chin in my direction before he walks around me and leaves.
I shuffle my weight from foot to foot. Should I go in? Should I leave, maybe? Why did I come here, anyway? "Umm, maybe this was a mistake."
I spin around, and am about to step out of the room when Seb calls out, "Stop."
I hesitate.
"Shut the door, then turn around and face me."
The command in his voice is unmistakable; a shiver runs down my spine. My nipples tighten. Jesus, what is this crazy reaction to him? I’ve known for a long time I’m submissive. I’ve hung around clubs, wanting to find the right kind of Dom, but I've never found anyone I felt comfortable approaching. It’s always been experience-by-proxy, where I’d see Dom’s get subs off and imagine myself in that role. Even then, the sensations had been intense. But I have to admit, nothing I’ve visualized has come close to being here, knowing he’s a few feet away, ordering me to return to him.
"Princess." He lowers his voice to a hush and a shudder grips me. "Do it, now."
His voice fills the corners in my mind. I reach out, pull the door closed, then turn to face him.
"Good girl," he murmurs, and heat sears my cheeks.
"Now take off your coat and place it along with your handbag on the table near the settee."
