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“Uncle Salvatore is the oldest, then Uncle Massimo. They have a sister who is my best friend’s mother. Uncle Massimo has four children, and Lorenzo is one of them. Our families go back generations and probably were related at some point. But my best friend and I were inseparable until he married. You read the arrest report, right?”
“Yes. Just before you arrived.”
“My best friend’s wife owns the bakery where they arrested me. I was her guard that day. I’m so close to my best friend that we each had a bedroom at each other’s house. So, the Mancinellis are like my family. Everyone calls the adults uncle or aunt.”
He shakes his head for a second.
“The adults. That’s sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud, but that’s just the way we’ve always thought of them.”
There’s that smile again. His grin is flashy and sexy. But his smile seems rarer and softer. But I can’t consider that anymore because we’ve just pulled up to the courthouse. The driver is opening my door after I tap the window.
“Go ahead. Pauly will take you inside. I can see you the entire way, but no one will see you with me. Text me when you’re ready to leave. I will be outside the courtroom door. Keep walking and get on the elevator to the parking garage. Don’t acknowledge me. The town car will wait for us. Walk around to the far side but wait for me to open the door. I’ll take you wherever you want.”
“Home. I have that date to get ready for.”
Which I wish I didn’t. I shouldn’t feel embarrassed, but I do. I don’t have time to think about it anymore because Pauly’s waiting, and I’m gathering my stuff. I look back as I slide out.
“Thank you. I’ll text when I need you.”
ChapterThree
Gabriele
When she needs me.Fucking hell. I wish she needed me to get her off as much as I want her to get me off. I cannot stop thinking about having sex with her. I wasn’t this bad when I was in college. But there is something I can’t get past. When she licked her lips, I thought I was about to lick them for her. My palm itched to slide up her thigh until I could make her wet. But that’s not even remotely a possibility. Right now, she’s my lawyer. Either I have to wait until the trial is over, which could be months, or I could be in prison, so that definitely makes it impossible.
If it were just physical attraction, I would go to my club and fuck someone until she’s out of my system. I don’t do random women. I belong to a club for particular tastes. There’s actually only one woman I scene with these days. I never imagined the fucking arrangement I have now. I definitely didn’t know she was a swinger when we connected— no pun intended —the first time. I definitely didn’t expect her husband to like to watch. I don’t care if voyeurs do. Whatever gets their rocks off. The only conditions I have are I’m always masked and never naked. My tats are too distinct, and no one needs to see my face. Since I’m the one giving the commands, it works just fine. Her husband joins sometimes, but our swords never cross. We stay at opposite ends.
But I’m not in the mood for that at all. I only want Sinead. Though I wouldn’t mind having her restrained, bent over the back of a couch, with my hand spanking her tits and ass. What I want is more time to talk to her. Our back-and-forth intrigued me. I like that she didn’t back down from me, and we do think a lot alike. I felt the same way about civil law classes. I took them because I had no choice, but I prefer criminal law. Aunt Sylvia and Uncle Massimo handle more corporate stuff. Uncle Massimo does criminal law too as needed, but now that’s my specialty.
I'm interested in how she's assembling the puzzle of my defense and want to know more, so I can avoid life in prison. Uncle Massimo was right. I shouldn’t have seen the court documents, but there was no way he would keep them from me. Not as a practicing lawyer who understands them, nor as a family member. It’s not the first time he’s revealed stuff like that. And he has come dangerously close to qualifying to be disbarred.
Who the hell is the guy Sinead’s going out with? Carmine would know. I pull out my phone and hit his contact. I look out the tinted window as I wait.
“What’s up?”
“Hey. When did you find out about Sinead?”
“Last night. Why? Are you the one she’s representing?”
“Yes.”
“But Uncle Massi was there for the arraignment. I figured they were hiring her for someone outside the family.”
He means for a Made Man or even an associate. Made Men are Italians, mostly Sicilians, in our branch. It’s sorta hereditary but not guaranteed. An associate is the equivalent for a non-Italian. They’re down a rung, though.
“It’s me. It’s for the sake of appearances, and so no one can claim a conflict of interest. And she’s good. I can tell.”
“Doesn’t hurt that I can tell she’s exactly who you’d be into.”
“Yeah, well, my dick and my mind can disagree all day. I don’t need life without the possibility of parole or death row.”
“You know New York doesn’t have the death penalty.”
I can picture his expression. His “you’re making a big deal out of nothing” face.
“Lucky me. The point is, if Uncle Massi can’t represent me, I have a good feeling about her. I want to ensure my trust won’t be misplaced. What do you know about her beyond Mount Holyoke and Yale?”
“She’s from Rhode Island. Her mom died of cancer when she was thirteen, and her dad has early onset dementia. She brought him to a memory care facility on East 65th.”
