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He crooked his finger to me and patted his knee. “Come here, tesora, and bring me luck.” It wasn’t a request.
When I hesitated, Giacomo glared at me, reminding me to play the game he had set up. The idiot thought he was in charge here and not Antonio. He had no idea he was being played by a master.
I walked forward, turning away from Antonio’s hot, dark stare when I got too close to take the scrutiny. He patted his knee again and shifted his legs so I could sit on his lap. I lowered myself, heat crawling up my back and across my skin.
Antonio snaked an arm around my waist, and when he spoke, his hot breath stirred across my arm. “Now, now, let’s not pretend to be shy, Chiara. Make yourself comfortable.” With that command, he tugged me back so I was firmly sitting in his lap, my back pressed against his chest, his mouth level with my ear. “Good girl. Don’t worry. You’ll get used to following my instructions.” His voice was smug, tinged with victory. He'd been looking for me, and now, he had me.
I squirmed on his knee, trying to claw back some personal space.
I only stilled when Giacomo laughed, his lecherous eyes on us. “Keep that for later, Chiara. I didn’t ask for a private show.”
I froze, suddenly aware of all the places Antonio’s body touched mine. I could go up in flames.
“Later,” Antonio murmured in my ear, making me blush, and turned his attention to the game.
I watched them play. There was a chance that Antonio would lose, and all this could end right here and now. I could flee to Chicago tonight and try to forget there was a kingpin in New York who hungered for my suffering, a don with a grudge to settle and a vindictive nature. I could still lie in bed at night and fantasize that he was the man I’d met two months ago, not this hard-faced stranger. I reassured myself with those thoughts, but deep down, in the pit of my belly, I knew Antonio was going to win. And even if he didn’t, there was something in the way he held me that told me clearly.
Now he had me, he wasn’t letting go.
CHAPTER2
Antonio
Chiara was a slight weight in my arms. Months of searching and finally, here she was.Mine.The one person who had dared to cross me and walk away.
Her body was stiff, and her arms trembled slightly. Good. She should be afraid. She had stolen from me, embarrassed me in front of my family, and she would pay for it. Worst of all, she had made me feel something I’d never felt before and then skipped away without a backward glance. She was a master manipulator, a liar, a thief, and she would pay for it. I wasn’t leaving here without her.
I watched Giacomo De Luca critically. The man was drunk and high, and I was on a winning streak. I was going to win easily, just the way I liked it. But why was he willing to offer up his little sister? That could wait for now. I didn’t care about his motives. I only cared about getting my hands on Chiara.
Being second in my life was unacceptable, and I drove myself never to be in that position if I could help it. That included poker. Being second to the Luciano capo title was bad enough.
Giacomo was renowned in our world as a first son who had inherited his father’s familigia by the most traditional means. He had murdered his father and, in doing so, inherited the crown of the family, his father’s illegitimate daughter, his house, his businesses; the list went on and on.
The business of the De Luca’s had never bothered me before. They worked out of Chicago and made no claims to New York. However, that all changed when Chiara De Luca conned me. Now, all that remained was figuring out if Chiara had acted alone or if her elder brother had put her up to it. I had my suspicions, but they needed to be confirmed. Killing another don shouldn’t be taken lightly.
Giacomo laid down his cards. Not a bad hand, after all, but not good enough. The idiot had no idea I’d come here tonight to play against him and him alone. He thought this whole evening was his own orchestrating. The inbreeding was clear in the eldest De Luca. The man wouldn’t be able to strategize his way out of a paper bag.
His sister was a different story. She was tense on my lap as I flipped the card that would decide her fate. Well, not really. Her fate had been decided the moment she’d caught my eye in a bar two long months ago. But the card would determine how we left this bar, peacefully or in a hail of bullets. Giacomo thought he had enough security with him. He had no idea. There was nowhere he could go in my city that was safe.
“Full house,” I announced calmly.
Giacomo exploded into a fit of swear words and curses. Chiara tensed as I stroked a hand down her bare arm.
“Merda,” Giacomo fumed, running a sweaty palm through his disheveled hair. He was a terrible actor. He collected himself and met my gaze. “Well, Luciano. I suppose you won, this round at least. We’re in town until Friday. Give her back in one piece,” he said, pushing back from the table, and swaying on his feet. “Or near enough. What do I care?” He turned to his bodyguards. They looked more like minders than security as he wove his way through the crowd.
“Did you hear that, little De Luca? In one piece, or near enough… how sweet. What a caring big brother you have.” My voice sent goosebumps trailing up Chiara’s arm, and I watched them, intrigued. She was so responsive. “Now I see why he inspires such loyalty.”
I held her a moment more and then released her. She sprang up and stepped away from me.
Her aversion to my touch pissed me off more than it should. “Get your stuff. We’re leaving.”
As the winnings were raked over to my side, I answered a call. My eldest brother needed me to handle something for him. Since his enviable wife, Suna, had given him a son only a few months ago, he’d been absent from the business often, leaving me to pick up the pieces. I should resent Vincenzo and the perfect life he had been handed, and I would if I didn’t care for his wife so much. Suna was so much more than my brother deserved, and he was a better man than me.
As I waited for Chiara, I sat at the bar and ordered a top-shelf whiskey. Tonight reminded me of the evening we’d met when I’d toasted the birth of the next generation of Lucianos alone, as I usually did most things in life. Sure, I’d had girlfriends and lovers in and out of the mafia world, yet being alone suited me best. I was a grumpy bastard. I was certainly a bitter one. Still, tonight there was decidedly less anger and bitterness than usual.
The reason for that was walking toward me across the bar. She was wrapped in a thick coat, her inky black hair melting into the dark wool. She held a small handbag, and that was all. Of course, she hadn’t been expecting her brother to hand her over to someone as poker winnings, with only the clothes on her back. The red flush of anger in her perfect cheeks told me how pissed off she was, and I savored it like the asshole I was. I wanted her fury, her shame, and embarrassment. I needed it to soothe the burn her little stunt had scorched inside me.
“Ready to go?” I stood, knocking back the rest of my drink.
