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"If she’d had her way, she’d have had the rest of us married within the month," Adrian replies, his tone glum.
"Is that what she made you promise?" I ask.
"What do you think?" He snorts.
"So, you’re going to ask Cass too marr—"
"No way," he growls. "Nonna may have asked. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna do what she wants."
"You made her a promise on her death bed," I remind him.
"I did it to keep her happy. I have no intention of allowing myself to be manipulated into a marriage I don’t want, and especially not by someone from beyond the grave."
"Can’t say I blame you," I confess. "But I also feel like I need to follow through with my promise to her. It’s the only time she asked something of me, and I can’t not give it to her."
"Cazzo," he swears softly, "don’t guilt trip me,fratello.I’m having a hard enough time keeping a handle on my emotions."
"Speak for yourself. I am well and truly in over my head, and if you repeat this to any of the others, I’ll deny it."
"Not that I have any interest in your messed up love-life... And speaking of your girlfriend—"
"—fiancée."
"—was just approached by a man."
"Che cazzo!" I growl. "What the hell is he doing?"
"Asking her something, by the looks of it."
"And what about her? Is she scared? Is she upset? Why don’t you go and intercept him?"
"And make myself known? Not to mention, I’d lose her trust, and then she’ll end up hiding her movements from me in the future. Where would that leave us?"
"Fuck," I swear, "what is she doing now?"
"Hmm, she’s talking back to him, gaze cast down, chin lowered. Damn, she’s a perfect submissive, isn’t she?"
"Stop talking about her."
"Just telling you what I see, man," he drawls.
"And now? What is she up to now?"
"He’s turned and left the room, andcazzo, she’s following him out."
"What the—? You keep an eye on her, you get me? I’m on my way."
Forty-five minutes later, I screech to a halt in front ofThe Mongoose.Yep, that’s the name of the nightclub run by theCamorra.Because the nightclub owned by us is called Venom, so… Snake. Mongoose. Get it? Very original of theCamorra.I snort to myself as I point at the valet then at my car. I grab a few notes from my wallet and thrust them at the man, who gasps at me.
"Keep the engine running. I’ll be out in ten minutes. And if I’m delayed, you still keep the engine running, youcapisce?" I growl as I brush past him and walk into the nightclub.
The music hits me at the same time the scent of bodies—of lust and sex—pours over me. I glance around the high-ceilinged room, taking in the bar that stretches from end-to-end on one side. At strategic intervals around the dance floor, there are elevated platforms on which barely dressed men and women—singles, couples, same sex and opposite sex, as well as threesomes—cavort from swings and hang off of each other in various poses that could teach the Kama Sutra a thing or two. Huh.
I've never set foot inside of this place, which is understandable, as it belongs to our arch rivals, after all. But I have to admit, the ambience is over-the-top just enough—with its heaving bodies on the dance floor, the throbbing music that fills my blood, the strobe lights that turn the entire space into a hedonistic experience—that it has me pausing on the threshold.
I scan my gaze across the room. Where the hell is Adrian? I would have come sooner, except it had taken me ten minutes to find a gap in the negotiations which had been taking place between Michael and Salvatore, the leader of theCamorra. As it is, Michael hadn't been happy I’d stepped out to call Adrian earlier. Then when I interrupted him to tell him I had to leave, his features hardened, his gaze growing even stonier. That is, until I whispered it was related to Elsa, at which point, he jerked his chin in the direction of the exit. I left them to their discussion of how to bury the bad blood between the two clans, and turned and raced out of there, just catching Massimo and Luca’s sniggers as I brushed past them.Stronzi!
I pushed my beloved Fornasari to its maximum speed, weaving through traffic, and leaving irate drivers in my wake. This car was created for moments like this. Besides, Italians love nothing more than breaking road rules, while swearing at fellow drivers who flaunt dare-devil driving skills.
