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I startle awake when light starts peeking through the blackout curtains. I’m still curled up on the sofa, but I can’t sense the presence of any other humans close by. With a sigh, I sit up and take my mask off. I stand up, stretching luxuriantly.
I get dressed, ready to morph back into my every day persona – Giada Cardinali, mob boss’ daughter. I know Aunt Ludovica will find a way to cover for my absence but that doesn’t mean I need to make it harder for her.
I feel real sadness at not having been able to say goodbye to Romeo. Even if he doesn’t know that this was our last session, it would have been nice to kiss him, breathe him in one more time. I truly think that without him, I’d have lost my mind these past two years.
Dressed now in my midnight blue corduroys and a white satin shirt, I walk out the door and find Sergio waiting for me. He’s the only person at this club who’s seen my face uncovered. He holds out a note to me.
“Romeo asked me to give this to you.” He smiles as I take the note. It’s not unusual for Romeo to do that. All our communication is done through Sergio. Beautiful handwritten notes that I would cherish if I didn’t have to burn each one after reading it.
I open the note and read it, a frown on my face.
Dearest Juliet,
I hope this note finds you well (or feeling better at least). I had to leave but Sergio should have a coffee and a birthday cupcake for you, to jump start your day, beautiful. Until next time, tis I, your most devoted servant.
Romeo
I chortle at his words. Looking up, I see Sergio approach, a to-go cup in hand as well as a tissue wrapped confection. My face hurts from how much I’m smiling.
Maybe my birthday isn’t going to beallhorrible.
CHAPTERTWO
Once I step out of the BDSM club, Romeo is banished to the back of my mind and Romano Monti, heir of the Monti Cosa Nostra family is back. Juliet is tucked away into the corner of my heart where she resides when we’re not in the same room.
I walk quickly to my black Lexus SUV with the custom bullet-proof tinted windows and get in, just sitting for a minute to reorient myself. I need to check my messages since I’ve been on airplane mode for too long. I don’t carry any security with me to the club where Juliet and I meet.
I place my bag of toys in the back seat. As soon as I get home, I’ll soak them and clean them myself before placing them carefully back in the bag, ready for next time. Nobody touches them but me. Nobody even knows about my activities.
Essentiallynobodyknows where I am when I am with Juliet at the club.
It’s not an easy thing, this one thing that’s only mine. The only way to manage without being caught is to be unpredictable. Juliet and I don’t meet on a schedule, we never communicate directly with each other, and we certainly never, ever see each other outside of the club. The only thing that’s always the same is the place we meet.
Sergio has been running The Tease Room for almost ten years now. He and I met when I was in college, looking for something to take the edge off, some relief from the craziness that is my life. He has an idea who I am, but discretion is his signature and I have no reason to doubt that he keeps quiet about what he knows.
I begin to frown as I notice how many missed calls and messages I have. I begin to read, and my frown deepens even more.
DO NOT do anything crazy.
That’s from my cousin, Benedetto, who sounds worried.
I click on the second message, which is from Father Lorenzo. He and I are friends, and he is definitely someone I would count as an advisor, but his message still makes no sense to me.
Everything happens for a reason. Come and see me soon.
“Fuck. What is going on?” I murmur to myself.
I sit staring through the windscreen, providing a very stationary target for anyone who would care to take a shot at the Monti family’s one and only heir. Starting the car, I ease into New York traffic, before using the car’s display screen to call my best friend, my second in command. If anyone knows what’s happening, it’ll be Mark.
“Yo. Where you been? I’ve been trying to reach you.” He sounds uncharacteristically somber.
“What the fuck is going on, Mark?”
He huffs so loudly I can hear him clearly, even on speaker. “You’re not gonna like it.”
“Clearly.”
“Okay so it’s like this right–”
