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Nobody’s asked me this question. Not a single person. If they talk about him to me, they always hint that I should be glad he’s dead.
Aldo Caruso was erratic. Mercurial. He never saw my talent and my skills. To him, a daughter was property, useful only for the alliances her marriage would bring. But as deeply flawed as he was, he was also my father. There are days when grief overtakes me, and there is only sadness. I can’t talk about it to Elisa—she hated him and had her reasons. I can’t talk to Renzo—he spends all day bemoaning the mess my father left us with. And Davide is too young. The men I play poker with might understand my complicated feelings, but while they are my friends within Casanova, they are also my rivals in the outside world. We don’t have the kind of relationship where we share our feelings.
“I do.” Tears well up in my eyes, and I brush them away angrily. I can’t cry in front of Andrei. I won’t. “It makes no sense. He was a terrible father and a terrible human being. There’s no reason I should grieve him.” I wrap my arms around myself in a hug. “I should hate him, not mourn him.”
“Come here.” He tugs me onto his lap and pulls me into his embrace. I rest my head on his shoulder and soak in his strength. “The heart is not always logical,” he says quietly. “It doesn’t understand the word ‘should.’ It wants what it wants.” He strokes my hair. “You’ve had to bear an unbearable burden all year, lisichka. What can I do to make it easier?”
One word from Andrei Sidorov, and my problems will go away. He’s got more money than God. Connections, power, prestige—he’s got it all.
And once again, I have nothing to trade.
“I’m fine.” I get to my feet, wiping my face clean of emotion. “Thank you for offering, but I’m already in your debt. Your information about Spina Sacra’s entry into the arms trade was very useful.”
“I’ve told you before,” he says, his dark eyes holding mine. “You owe me nothing.”
This time next year, I’ll either be married or engaged. Tonight is the last time I’ll be free to sleep with Andrei Sidorov.
And I want to.I want him so much.
All year, I’ve thought about Andrei. About the way he tied me down, made me come, and then fucked my mouth. I’ve masturbated to that memory more times than I can count. I only have to close my eyes and I’m transported to that private room, to the moment Andrei Sidorov stood next to me and whispered his warning into my ear. “Be sure,” he said, a dangerous promise in every syllable. “Be very,verysure.”
I’m not sure of very many things in my life right now, but my desire for him? That’s never been in doubt.
“If I remember right, that wasn’t what you said.” I remove the pins from my hair and let the strands fall free. “Your precise words were, ‘There are many things I want from you.’”
“But none of them are owed.”
“What if I want those things too?”
He takes a deep breath. “Renzo Caruso loathes me,” he says. “He tried to encroach into Sidorov territory, and I stopped it.”
“I know.” I begged Uncle Renzo not to test Andrei. He wouldn’t listen. It was a painfully expensive mistake, one that wiped out a year of olive oil profits. “Nothing has changed. All I have to offer is one night.”
I wait, heart racing, for him to respond. He doesn’t move for a very long time, and I start to wonder if I’ve misread the signs. Andrei’s been photographed with many beautiful women this year. Maybe he’s involved with one of them. Maybe he’s even engaged. Maybe this was a mistake.
Then he gets to his feet and holds out his hand to me. “One night with you is better than a lifetime with anyone else, Mirabella,” he says. “Shall we go find a private room?”
CHAPTER6
MIRA
“What do you want?”
We’re in the same private room as last year, but the decor’s been updated since we were here. This time, the walls are covered with mirrors. The furniture is different too. A Saint Andrews Cross is in the corner, but it’s not what catches my attention. No, it’s the chair in the center of the room. Underneath a spotlight rests a steel chair with stirrups and straps that wouldn’t look out of place in my gynecologist’s office.
I swallow hard and move toward it. “I think the more pertinent question is, what do you want.” I run my hand over the cold metal. “This is intimidating.”
“Are you afraid?” Intensity radiates off Andrei in palpable waves. He takes off his jacket, and undoes his cuffs, placing his diamond-studded cufflinks on a shelf. His rings follow. All except the signet ring of the Sidorov Bratva, a thick platinum ring with a carving of a firebird in flight on its face, which he leaves on the ring finger of his right hand. He loosens his tie, never taking his eyes off me, and rolls up his sleeves to his elbows, his tattoo-covered forearms coming into view. “Do I frighten you?”
Yes. No. There’s something dark about Andrei tonight, something that terrifies me and excites me in equal measure. “I don’t know.”
He stalks toward me with a whip in his hand. The scent of him washes over me, something earthy and musky and very male. “You talked last time about choices,” he says. “About how you have very few.”
“I remember.” The butterflies in my stomach riot. He’s holding a whip, one he’s going to useon me.And once again, I’m not sure if I’m afraid or if I’m aroused. Or if there’s even a difference between the two emotions.
“And now you’re here.” He flicks his wrist, and the tails of the whip scour his forearm. “Submitting to me. If I wanted to whip you, I could. If I wanted to wrap my hand around my throat and choke you, you wouldn’t be able to stop me. Isn’t that right, Mira?”
There’s a hard edge in his voice that sends a shiver through me. My skin prickles with desire, and my breaths come in short and shallow gasps. My breasts heave, and Andrei’s eyes fall to my cleavage. A thrill runs through me. I found my dress in Venice, in a boutique in Dorsoduro, designed by Rosa Tran, the same designer who made Lucia Moretti’s wedding gown. It’s a corset dress, deep red velvet in color, the neckline scooped lower than I usually prefer. The skirt is floor-length, with a long slit up one side, and when I tried it on in the fitting room, I knew I was going to buy it and wear it for Andrei.For him to tear off my body.
