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“Not here. Let’s go find a spot where we can be alone.”
CHAPTER3
MIRA
He tugs me out the door and down a dark corridor. I follow mutely, my palms damp with sweat. Antonio’s warning rings in my ear.Your father is playing a dangerous game. Stop him before it’s too late.“You know your way around Casanova.”
“Are you asking me if I come here often?” He rolls his eyes. “The manager of the club, Liam, is an old friend.” He pulls me into a small, sparsely furnished room. The walls are painted a lush purple, and gilded sconces emit golden light. It would be a nice space if you could ignore the whips and chains that hang from hooks on the walls and the fact that the only place to sit is on a bench that is clearly designed for bondage.
A shiver of pure lust runs through me.
I’ve fantasized about Andrei from afar for a long time now. When I was twenty-two, I thought we’d be married. I would lie in bed, scrolling through pictures of him on social media, and wonder what he was like in person, this Russian bratva prince with a hard face and harder eyes. Then, the negotiations between our families fell apart, and with it, my fantasies.
Three years ago, when Antonio Moretti invited me to his poker game, I wasn’t expecting to see Andrei Sidorov among the guests. I wasn’t sure what to say or how to react. The Caruso family was at war with the Sidorovs, but the poker game was neutral ground, a hallowed space carved away from time and reality. I settled for a chilly politeness, and Andrei reciprocated with impeccable courtesy.
And now we’re in a very small room together, and I’m very,veryaware that this is the first time I’ve been alone with Andrei.
I wrap my arms around my chest. “What was Antonio talking about?” I ask. “Ciro, too. They both know something that concerns me. Something my father did or is doing. What is it?”
There’s no reason Andrei should answer my question. In our world, information is power, greedily acquired and carefully hoarded. And I have nothing to trade for the knowledge I seek.
“Four years ago, theSaturniawent down off the coast of Bari.”
“I remember. You sank it.”
“No. Your father loudly and publicly proclaimed that the Sidorov Bratva was responsible, but we had nothing to do with it.” His expression turns serious. “Your father did it, Mira. He hired a team to steal the cocaine, kill the crew of theSaturnia, and sink the ship.”
I stare at him in disbelief. “No.”
“Yes,” he replies. “I’m afraid there’s proof of his involvement. Your father tried to take out the team he hired so word couldn’t get out, but he wasn’t entirely successful. Giovanni Castella lost a son on theSaturnia.He’s intent on discovering what really happened, and it’s not about money for him; it’s personal. When he succeeds, and he will succeed, your father will be killed for his betrayal.”
I sink onto the bench in shock. I wish I could protest that my father would never do something as dishonorable as steal from an ally, but I can’t. Aldo Caruso would break whatever code necessary if he thought he could get away with it.
And by his actions, he’s signed his own death warrant.
“Thank you for telling me.” I need to take steps to protect myself and my sister from the fallout. A difficult task, but not an impossible one. Thanks to Andrei’s warning, I have time to do what’s necessary. “I owe you a debt.”
“No, Mirabella,” he says, and once again, there’s a caress in his voice. “I offered you the information freely. You owe me nothing.” His voice turns strained. “You should get up from that bench.”
“Why?”
“If you don’t, I might be tempted to tie you down.”
For a moment, I don’t think I’ve heard him correctly. Then his words register, and a thrill shoots through me. Andrei Sidorovwantsme.
Our families hate each other, and no matter what happens with my father, that won’t change. Even if the proof of his betrayal comes to light, my uncles will insist that Vadik Sidorov planted the evidence to hide his own culpability.
But that’s the outside world. Inside Casanova, inside this room, none of that matters. Because Andrei Sidorov is staring at me with hot lust in his eyes, and I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want this forbidden bratva prince.
“If you do,” I whisper, “I might like it.”
He crosses the room in two long strides, and then he’sright next to me,his presence overpowering my senses. My body trembles in painful anticipation as he places a finger on my chin and tilts my face upward. Our gazes collide. “Be sure,” he says, low and dangerous. “Be very,verysure.”
I’ve been intimately acquainted with danger all my life. But it’s never felt like this, this sharp, restless, violent urge. I want to break out of my gilded cage. I want to shout and scream and rage. I want him to tie me up and fuck my mouth and my pussy and my ass.
“I’m sure.”
He presses his thumb on my lower lip, and my mouth falls open. He shoves two fingers inside. “Will you wrap your pretty little lips around my cock, Mira?” he asks, pushing them deeper down my throat until I start to gag. “Will you smear your red lipstick all over my length? Will your mascara run as I fuck your throat? Will you cry pretty tears and beg me to stop hurting you?”
