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“Your concern is misplaced, dear cousin,” I reply breezily over the lip of my wine glass. “The Ruby’s affairs are my dominion. But I appreciate your guidance, as always.” I raise my glass to her, the fruity aromas of cherry and raspberry filling my nose as I finish it down.
I appreciate Juno’s refined taste in wine, if nothing else.
Juno’s eyes flash, but before she can retort, our waiter sweeps in once more with espresso and dessert—a sweet cannoli for me, zabaglione for Juno, and tiramisu for Caitlin. The familiar flavors soothe the tension coiled in my shoulders. For all our power plays and posturing, blood runs thicker than water for those born ofla Cosa Nostra.
My mother Maria is Juno’s aunt, the youngest sister of Juno’s father Carmine, may he rest in peace. Maria Bianchi’s marriage to my father, Johnny de Luca, was a love match, but it also strengthened ties between the Bianchi Family and the Mancini Family.
Daddy is a very powerful man, and he dotes on me as his only daughter. I know people call me a Mob princess, but both Daddy and I know better. He raised me well, and I hold influence and sway in this city in a way that Juno—bless her cold, icy heart—could never even dream of.
The difference between Juno and me? Peoplelikeme. She’s lucky she’s got Caitlin now to fence all that oh-so-irritating people stuff for her. Juno is a master strategist and an unrivaled tactician, but my God, she’s a moron when it comes to emotions.
And of course, rivalry simmers now and then between the Mancinis and Bianchis, but we always come back to the same table. We areFamiglia, after all. Still, that has little to do with me. I do Daddy some favors from time to time—a little laundering, for example, or provision of supplies—but I’m not steeped in the business, not like Juno.
Still, I suppose I appreciate her watching out for me. The Ruby Realmisa front for a very different kind of business, though few people know the extent of it.
“Caitlin, sweetheart, remember to pull Juno along to the charity auction on Friday night. She’ll forget all about it unless you remind her—or she’ll pretend to, anyway.”
“I certainly will not,” Juno says coldly, but Caitlin is already chuckling.
“We’ll be there,” she promises me.
“Excellent. Of course, the Bianchi Foundation’s contributions to the cause are much appreciated,” I say to Juno, raising my espresso in an almost-mock toast.
But the truth is, I need Juno there. I need hermoneythere, so if that means I need to suck up to her, I will. She despises being told what to do, even in the name of charity. My dear cousin has never really grasped the true importance of cultivating a positive philanthropic reputation.
But for me, it has become a very useful shield to those curveballs that life likes to throw my way now and then.
* * *
After farewell cheek-kisses and promises again from Caitlin and Juno to attend the charity auction, I step outside, swapping Carmela’s velvet opulence for the grittier streets. Out here, my Daddy used to tell me as a child, one wayward glance or misstep could spell your end, even for the influential and lovely. But like calls to like, and we de Lucas have never been ones to walk with the sheep.
I smile as I think about my father’s bedtime stories—they never gave me nightmares, despite Mama’s protests—but all of a sudden, a quick shudder goes through me. It almost feels as though…
I scan the sidewalk casually as I walk, noticing nothing amiss. Still, the sensation persists, raising the fine hairs on my arm beneath the silk sleeves of my champagne-colored blouse. It’s not the usual sensation I get day to day of simply beingadmired. Even the most envious eyes don’t make me feel as uncomfortable as this.
No. Whoever is watching me likely knows precisely who I am.
My leisurely pace continues, but every sense sharpens, straining for clues…any scuff of a shoe on pavement, a whisper of indrawn breath, the slide of a safety shifting off a concealed weapon. I turn the next corner into shadow, my own hand sliding deftly beneath the silk folds of my skirt to the sleek contours of my concealed Beretta. I press flat against weathered brick, every nerve honed to action, my heart’s rhythm steady despite the adrenaline flooding of my system.
Like I said, Daddy raised a bad bitch.
The seconds tick by as I wait, breathing silenced, my weapon ready in hand. But no one turns the corner after me. No footsteps echo down the alley. Slowly, I release the breath caught in my chest. I’m being paranoid, no doubt. The thought makes me chuckle even as I slide my gun back into its discreet holster against my thigh. Can’t be too careful, after all. Perhaps it’s time to consider a personal bodyguard like Juno and Caitlin. Even Daddy’s been pressing me for years to hire someone—an annoying issue I’ve somehow evaded until now.
With a rueful smile at my own nerves, I smooth my ruffled feathers and continue onward through the streets. The sun may still be up, but the Ruby Realm beckons tonight, promising laughter, temptation, and eternal possibilities behind its walls.
My ladies expect nothing less.
And I aim to please.
CHAPTER2
NATALIE
The elevator doors slide open, revealing the luxurious penthouse suite on Park Avenue that will serve as my home for the foreseeable future. My breath catches in my throat as I take in the space: floor-to-ceiling windows reveal a panoramic view of New York City, and everything is state-of-the-art, from the glossy hardwood floors to the elaborate light fixtures.
“Pretty swanky, huh?” Sam Wright says under his breath as we step out of the elevator.
I nod, eyes wide. “Just a bit different than my one bedroom in Queens.”
