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"We’re getting the authentic Sicilian experience," Roman says. "Hammered Italians searching for theiramors."
"I think you should speak to the crazy man screaming at everyone," Bentley says, nudging my ribs. "He could be youramor."
Roman shakes his head. "The man saidwe.He’s looking for a poly relationship. Didn’t you hear him?"
I move my eyes back to the shouting man.
A frisson of heat tears through me.
Ever since my brother got with Roman, I’ve been craving a Daddy of my own.
One who doesn’t judge me for my past.
One who understands that I waswrongly imprisonedafterthe incident—that it wasn’t my fault.
American Daddies have seen my face all over the news.
Thanks to Roman, my sentence was commuted last year, but the stigma remains.
This ripped man and the two studs standing beside him could be the nonjudgmental Daddies I need.
Standing up, I walk to the man’s side. "I’ll volunteer as tribute."
Everyone in the bar gasps as they wait for what will happen.
One of the hunks to his left takes a menacing step forward. "Tell us your name."
"Jericho."
The third man ticks his eyes down. "Where are you from?"
"New York."
"Forget it," the first snarls. "You couldn’t handle us, pretty boy."
My eyes turn to slits. "Is that a dare?"
The second man grips my jaw. "Think very carefully about what you say."
I rip free from his grasp. "You three are the ones who couldn’t handle me."
ChapterOne
MARCELLO
"Well, can we handle him?" I ask, taking a sip of limoncello.
Santino spreads his legs. "I can, but I don't know about you two."
"We’d better decide quickly. He’ll arrive in fifteen minutes." Lazaro’s voice is fierce.
Santino crosses his arms. "There’s nothing to decide.I claimed that boy the second I saw him—he’s mine."
"Ours." I can’t believe I have to remind him of that.
"You know what I meant." Santino isn’t impressed. "Quick parsing my words."
"You said he wasyours," I point out. "That’s not true."
