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“Don’t fucking pretend right now. I can tell straight away when someone mocks me,” he snapped. “Sebastian, she doesn’t fucking respect you or me.”
Next to me, I felt Tattooed Man release pent-up breath through his mouth. It whooshed to my neck, raising the hairs at the back of my head. Beads of sweat trickled down my spine. The atmosphere here was very tense and this was all my fault. I had a feeling someone was going to end up hurt tonight.
“Those filthy Russians are playing a long game. I want to be respected and if you can’t teach your wife that, then we won’t be mixing into this shit!” Vinny’s hand swung to his waist and he pulled out a gun. With lightning speed, Marco appeared at Sebastian’s side and pointed his at Vinny’s head. More footsteps ensued, no doubt the other party’s guards rushing in.
I was rooted to the spot, terror now seeping into my bones.Russians.I must have missed something, but we were Russians living in the US, and my father was part of the mafia, so he must have meant my parents. No, that couldn’t be. The man thought I was this Russina. God, I couldn’t even think straight.
Mafia members were everywhere I went in my world, especially now when I had been forced to give up everything. My dreams, my freedom. My life. Still, as much as I wanted to hate my parents, I couldn’t. My mother was selfish, but I loved her. I just couldn’t be any other way. These were the cards they’d been dealt—the only world they knew. Nothing was any different for me—I was simply a continuation of their legacy, no matter how much they’d botched up my upbringing … perhaps with somewhat good intentions.
In that moment, as we all anticipated the sound of Vinny’s gun going off, I pitied them. They could die too and my sacrifice would mean nothing at all in the scheme of things. A brutal ending after a brutal life. Survival of the fittest. In the mafia world, this was something one could never get away from. A prison we all ended up in, one way or the other. Freedom was in truth an illusion for those of my kind—I wasn’t the only one with that problem.
“Yes, tell us what this is about, Sebastian,” Tattooed Man spoke for the first time. “We don’t understand why you made this agreement with her if she pretends to be something she’s not.” He went to grab the duffel bag and shook it, spilling the contents all over Sebastian’s desk. “I don’t fucking care about the cash. This agreement doesn’t seem tight at all.”
“You will pay for dragging us into your shit.” Vinny pushed me back and lowered the weapon so it was now directly aiming at Sebastian’s heart. I was so bloody confused because I didn’t really get it how my poor salsa moves had caused such a scene. These people were ready to kill each other over a simple misunderstanding.
My pretend husband nodded at Marco, completely unfazed. “We are good.” He waited till the latter withdrew the gun then shifted all his attention to Vinny. I was awestricken. How could he be so calm?
“My wife tries to be too funny sometimes. It’s all a misunderstanding.” He leaned to stroke my face, a small smile forming on his lips. “She wouldn’t do anything to compromise our agreement because we are a team.”
Trailing his fingers to my chin, he lifted my face to touch his lips to mine. I went still and for a few seconds, forgot to breathe. Sebastian was kissing me. My head started to spin. His lips moved against mine like a painter’s brush on canvas, except that his strokes were more vigorous. He was slowly devouring my mouth and I wasn’t sure what to do. They’d expect a response, so I started to kiss him back with the same fervor, mimicking his movements. My eyes squeezed shut and the world around us blurred.
He traced my jawline, gently caressing my skin, then hiked his fingers to my cheeks, and to my eyes to play with my lashes before sinking in my hair. The tips massaged my scalp in circles and it felt like he was touching my thoughts, erasing the monster from my mind, taking away the pain. My body’s impulses had taken over and I couldn’t control the small sounds that escaped my mouth. Blistering heat savaged my core. My toes curled, my stomach fluttered, the nerves mingling with the blood in my veins. Before I could stop myself, my hands found his torso. It was hard, ripped, and just perfect in every way. But before I could explore more, Sebastian pulled away.
The reality of this situation swallowed me in. I opened my eyes, disappointed, although I should have been embarrassed. My heart was pounding inside my chest. I had never tasted such soft lips before or been kissed with such unyielding passion. How could a simple action ignite fire so deep in me? Maybe it was a good idea he cut it short because I was few seconds away from collapsing. If I thought myself ashamed now, I would have been mortified then. He was such a fucking asshole that he would use every chance he got to remind me of how terribly insatiable I was.
I didn’t care if it was all for show, because I wanted more. I didn’t want to desire him, but after tasting him, I couldn’t deny this. None of it mattered though because he was only acting, pretending that we were in love with each other. Still, that kiss he’d given me in front of four dangerous mafia bosses added more eroticism to the situation.
“See, gentlemen? I told you there is nothing to worry about,” Sebastian said, all-business. His voice was cold and calculating. “But I’ll make it up to you.” He signaled to Marco. “We could use some company.”
I didn’t like the way he said that, but Vinny’s arms relaxed around me. He narrowed his eyes and then gave me a pat.
“I’m sorry. My bad,” he said, then re-holstered his gun and sat down. Tattooed Man shrugged and bent to collect the money from the floor.
I exhaled, massive relief engulfing me. More sweat ran down my face and I wiped it away with my fingertips.
“Sit,” Sebastian hissed in my ear. The sudden change in his tone caught me off guard and sent a ripple of fear through me. Just how much trouble was I in?Loads, the voice in my head answered. He was obviously not happy and I didn’t want to think about it. I had no idea what deal these people were talking about, but one thing for sure: they didn’t like salsa.
I sank on an empty couch, telling myself to keep breathing. Unfortunately, it placed me in direct view of Vinny and when I glanced back at him, I found him staring. From the twinkle of doubt in his eyes, he didn’t completely buy our cover story. Russina must have been a much better host than me in general despite the fact these men had never met her, but this was all new to me. No matter which way I looked at this, it was Sebastian’s fault that I failed. I was completely unprepared. Vinny’s sly grin was unsettling.
The others seemed … content, for lack of a better word, which was a good thing after what just happened.What almost happened.Tattooed Man was shoving more cash in the bag and the other two were chatting with Sebastian in hushed tones. From their grave expressions, I could tell the negotiation wasn’t over.
I tried to figure out what was going on. Unfortunately, I couldn’t make out anything with the exception of a word here and there as they made sure to stop their voices from carrying—no doubt because of me.
But as I sat there, straining to connect New York and Mexico, the two names that kept popping up in the conversation and that I could make out, I wished I had some kind of super-sensory hearing ability. Meanwhile, I seethed. The bastard didn’t make it easy for me, not with his ridiculous demands. He clearly enjoyed tormenting me, and it was not just about revenge. He was banking on me failing … so perhaps someone else would take my blood off his hands. Morbid thoughts, for sure, but what was I to think? Was I reading too much into this?
No. The man was an asshole, all the way through. Was he even capable of any feeling? The fear I’d felt at the start when he’d brought me here dimmed under the shadow of my indignation. I kept harping on this in my mind, about how he should have prepared me better for this meeting. If something happened to me, blame would fall squarely on his shoulders.
Marco strolled in with five girls. Their dress and body language hinted they were prostitutes and they knew what to do with guys like Vinny. The six-inch heels, garter belts, hair flipping, sucking on fingers, and the sultry stares—all for show.
“Finally,” Vinny commented as he sampled them. His gaze landed on a tall blonde whose curvaceous breasts were spilling out of her lace bra. “You, come here.”
Casting the others a triumphant smile, she sashayed to him. When she reached where he was seated, she turned and arched her back then started shaking her hips vigorously so her ass was vibrating and grinding against Vinny’s crotch. The man seemed to be enjoying the action. His eyes falling close, he grabbed her waist to encourage her more.
A lap dance was what he was referring to when he’d asked me to dance. My cheeks warmed as I replayed the scene in the casino room. No wonder he was seething back then. My amateur salsa moves couldn’t exactly be described as seductive rhythms. God, I was so stupid and naive.
The most maddening part was: Who in the world would have their wife entertain another man like this—with a lap dance? Really? What kind of man would do such a thing?
The son of a bitch in front of me, that’s who.I wanted to lash out, hurt him—and I would have, if I weren’t so utterly humiliated. Life be damned.
