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Earlier today, I had demanded she escort any mafia bunnies she saw out of L’Oscurità. I was using my ex-girlfriend as my personal bouncer, but I couldn’t care less about the ethics of the situation.
All that mattered was she’d do it.
And I knew she would because she was fucking obsessed with me.
Her obsession started the moment she saw me. It was one of those things you could just tell.
Shortness of breath. Glazed eyes. Difficulty breathing. Sometimes, there was even wheezing involved.
She was either severely allergic to me or obsessed with me.
Her obsession would likely be a problem down the road, but when that time came, I’d fire her, slap a restraining order on her perky ass, and move on to the next hostess.
Only this time, I’d hire her without having fucked her.
See? I was capable of personal growth.
“Gio.” My voice remained firm, as unwavering as always. Not that he gave a damn. “Ten mob bunnies in half as many days? You’ve got me walking around like I’m Hefner reincarnate.”
He needed to get it through his thick skull that I’d never be interested in the Romano business.
He’d taken Elsa from me, and the only reason I still talked to him was for my sister Tessie and because it had been Elsa’s choice to accept the bribe.
Gio, my uncles, and the rest of my family risked their freedom on a daily basis.
For what? Money? We had enough.
We could legitimize our businesses today, and the generations of Romanos to come would still be filthy rich.
Gio took his lazy-ass time shifting his body, returning his wandering eye’s attention from a low hemline to me.
“How are you so sure it’s me sending them your way?”
“It sure as hell isn’t Uncle Eli or Uncle Frankie. They don’t give two shits. And Uncle Vince would be straightforward about it. No pussyfooting.”
He absently rubbed his arm, cocked his head to the side, and lifted a single brow. “Pussyfooting? What’re you trying to say, son?”
A smile tugged at the edges of my lips. “Exactly what I said, Gio.”
“Huh. I’d wipe that goddamn smirk off your face with my fist, but your mother is coming in with your sister any second now.”
We shared a tired grin at the mention of the woman.
I ran a weary hand down my face. “Man, Ma hates blood. She married into the wrong family.”
Not that hers was any better.
Gio laughed, despite the fact that neither he nor she had a choice in their nuptials.
Maybe that—the lack of control even one of the most influential men I knew had over his life—was why I held so much disdain for the mafia business, even before Elsa and I broke it off.
I eyed my whiskey sour, the drink reminding me of my meeting with Ariana De Luca tomorrow.
“You ever hear the name Ariana De Luca?”
Gio’s eyes narrowed as he straightened, finally giving me his full attention.
“You gunning after a De Luca now?” Disapproval radiated off of him in fierce, unrelenting waves. “Don't. They're batshit insane, and we don't need any of that right now.”
