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“Uh, no one said you were coming. Besides, I would be going for a month, more if I bring my laptop and work while I’m there. I doubt your wife would be thrilled about you traipsing around Europe to get fat,” I chuckle.
“Are you really thinking about going?”
I pull up my calendar, checking for any new projects. “Yeah, if I can get it approved.”
Stephan stands, dusts off his pants, and walks to the door. He stops at the entry and turns. “It would be good for you. An al dente diet is just what you need.”
After a quick call to Kendra and HR, three clicks and an invisible swipe of my credit card, I’m headed to Verona.
CATARINA
Shimmying the sleek black dress up my body, I pull the straps over my shoulders and draw the zipper running up the side. The hemline is high and the neckline is low. Both leaving very little of my body to the imagination. Grabbing the thigh-holster from the armoire, I slide the dress high on my hip and secure the holster around my upper thigh. I run my fingers over the tray of knives and settle on a Karambit—it will be thin enough to not be noticeable resting on my inner thigh and also happens to be my choice of blades.
It’s a remarkable close proximity weapon.
I slip on a pair of black Michele Lopriore stilettos and take one last glance at myself in the mirror. Pulling at the clip in my hair, the dark curls cascade down the bare skin of my back.
Perfect.
While female enforcers aren’t exactly the norm in the family business, I bring something to the table that the rest of the men don’t—I look like I just stepped off a runway in Milan. I have an amazing fucking set of tits, and I have yet to meet a man who isn’t trying to spend at least five minutes nestled between my thighs.
And that’s exactly what I need tonight.
Luca Bernardi. All of the men who have tried to take him out have failed miserably. Some barely made it out alive, most were not so lucky. He’s brutal. Ruthless. And has an army of men with him at all times.
Well, almost all the time.
The car comes to a stop at the front of one of the most popular clubs in the city. Sliding from the backseat, all eyes are on me as I walk toward the bouncer and he immediately presses open the door for me. The moment I’m inside, I spot Luca in the VIP area. I saunter toward the VIP area, linger long enough to draw his attention and proceed to the bar.
I’m no more than three sips into my negroni when a tall, well-dressed man, clearly concealing a pistol in the front waistband of his pants, approaches me and states, “Mr. Bernardi is requesting you join him in his VIP suite.”
Shaking my head and scrunching my face to ensure my disinterest is well understood, my tone is overtly bitchy when I reply, “I don’t entertain men who don’t have enough balls to speak to me themselves.”
“My. Bernardi will not be pleased,” he groans, furrowing his brows to emphasize his displeasure.
“I don’t see where that’s my problem.” I return my attention to the drink before me and watch from the corner of my eye as he storms back to where he came from.
Continuing to enjoy this surprisingly well-made negroni, I wait. Men like him have an ego that won’t allow him to accept my answer.
“Women don’t tell me ‘no’,bella,” a smooth deep voice speaks from immediately behind me.
“I didn’t tell you no,” I snarkily respond, without turning toward him. I pause to take another sip of my drink. “I toldhimno.”
“Do you know who I am?” He grips my chin and forcefully pulls my face toward him until I am forced to meet his gaze.
“I know exactly who you are.” I lean toward him and break his gaze to glance at the private party happening in VIP. "And I have no interest in joining your little harem for the night.”
While it would make for a fun night, I need him alone, not in a bed with three other women.
Removing his hand from my chin, I take the final swig of my drink and pull the lipstick from my clutch. I scribble the number to my burner phone on the coaster beneath my glass. Rising from my barstool, my body slides against his as I stand, and I press the coaster to his chest.
“I don’t share well. Call me when you’re open to ditching the rest of them.” I pause to lift onto my toes and place a soft kiss on his jaw. Brushing my lips along his scruff, I press my lips to his ear and whisper, “It’ll be worth it.”
Pulling back and lowering myself from my toes, his hand slides over mine to grab hold of the coaster. Without saying another word, I gently push past him and disappear into the crowd on the dance floor.
He’ll call. Men like him always do.
CATARINA
