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“The Founders Society.”
My eyebrows raised. “They’re that powerful?”
“You don’t even know the half of it. The Founders run this country. Even the Mafia relies on their connections.”
“Really?” My voice reached a higher octave. “The Founders are in bed with gangsters?”
“Not quite. They keep them in line, call upon them when they need a favor. The Founders are the only reason most of my family members aren’t in jail.”
“Your family has so many secrets.” I took the bikini from his hand. “I expect to learn all of them once I become a Salvatore.”
His grin mirrored mine. “That will be soon, princess.” He clutched my wrist and made slow circles over the top of my hand. “When you say yes to Luca, you’re saying yes to all of us.”
* * *
At least a hundred people crowded around the Olympic size pool at the Salvatore estate. Strings of fairy lights floated above us, dangling from the trees like stars in the dark sky. A rap song cranked through the outdoor speakers. As if the beat made everyone lose their minds, a group of women in skimpy bikinis jumped up on a table where Sonny sat with a few of the Knights.
Luca’s eyes traveled up and down my bikini-clad body. The red triangles of fabric barely covered my nipples, and the stringy bottoms did little to hide my ass. It surprised me that Luca wanted me to wear this in front of his friends.
The bathing suit left pretty much nothing to the imagination. And didn’t it break his rule about not showing myself to other men?
I sipped from my martini glass, shaking my hips to the beat. As I walked by Luca’s chair, he hooked his arm around my thigh and tugged me onto his lap.
“You’ve been chatty tonight,” he whispered into my ear. “Getting to know your loyal subjects, Queen D?”
I smiled at his nickname for me. “I guess you can say that.”
“I want you to meet my cousins.” He tipped his head at the men sitting on the other side of the table. Luca rose from his chair, bringing me with him, and pointed at a tall, dark-haired man who was probably in his mid-thirties. It wasn’t hard to miss the family resemblance. “This is Dante Luciano.”
The Don of the Luciano crime family. They ran Atlantic City and most of the casinos in the town. I hadn’t realized the Salvatores were so Mafia connected until Marcello had explained their family’s past.
Dante rose from the chair. He was really tall and solid beneath the black designer suit. I offered him my hand, and he raised it to his mouth and kissed my skin.
“Such a beauty,” he said in a thick South Jersey accent. “Welcome to the family, Alexandrea.”
A shiver rolled down my arm, and I forced a smile. He reminded me of a younger version of Arlo Salvatore. Cold, calculated, but also somewhat charming. Dante Luciano had a magnetism which surrounded him. Like his cousins, he had that extra something that made you melt into a puddle at his feet.
His three brothers stood beside him, eyeing me up with interested looks on their handsome faces. It was a pool party, and yet they were the only people on the property wearing suits. Even my guys had dressed down for the special occasion.
Stefan and Angelo had the same dark hair, except they were maybe five years younger than Dante and identical twins. The only difference between them was a scar on Angelo’s right cheek. It looked like it came from a knife, which made me wonder about the story behind how he got it.
The last Luciano brother was probably around thirty, give or take, and unlike his brothers, he had blond hair and blue eyes. They didn’t even look related.
“This is Nicodemus,” Dante said in a deep tone that made the hairs on my arms stand at attention. “He’s the bastard of the family.”
My eyebrows lifted at his confession. I glanced at Luca for a moment, wondering why he would introduce him in such an abrupt way. Of course, Luca gave nothing away, keeping his expression hard, focused on his cousins.
Nicodemus shot a sideways glance at his older brother and shook his head. “Thanks for the fucking introduction, brother.”
“What?” Dante smirked, shoving his hands onto his hips to reveal the guns strapped to his chest. “Are you not our father’s bastard?”
“Get over it,” Nicodemus snapped at Dante.
I could feel the tension between them, the anger they felt toward each other radiating off them in waves. It was clear Nicodemus looked like his mother, with his blond hair and light features, the polar opposite of his half-brothers.
Dante narrowed his stance as he glared at his brother. “Sit down and show some fucking respect.”
I looked at Nicodemus, unsure of what to say, and then extended my hand to break the tension. “Nice to meet you.”
