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Jenna is right. My revenge plan is dangerous because I’m heading into the lion’s den, and I’m not sure if I’ll make it out alive. But I’d rather die trying to avenge Angelo’s death than live doing nothing about it.
These motherfuckers gunned down my brother because he refused to be a part of their shitty drug deals. Angelo was the only family I had left. Not only that—he was my best friend, always standing up for me whenever I needed support.
Now, I’m lonely in this world because of them. I'll make them suffer.
* * *
After a ten-minute ride,the taxi halts in front of a colossal nightclub that pulsates with a foreboding energy. My stomach churns with apprehension as I reluctantly hand over a wad of cash to the cabbie, wincing at the exorbitant fare that could've covered half a week's worth of groceries.
Tonight, is about revenge, not practicality, I remind myself. I've taken the night off from my full-time waitressing job and even splurged on a new dress that hugs my curves, trying to build the courage to face whatever awaits me inside.
Every step I took to prepare for tonight—whether buying the dress or meticulously applying my makeup—felt like a small battle won against my fears. But now, standing in front of the club's imposing doors, I realize that the real war is about to begin.
Two huge guards with long, dark hair stand at the club entrance. Their faces are hard, and their eyes are watchful. Not just anybody can enter the unmarked club. I walk seductively toward them, and their hard faces soften.
“Hey, beautiful,” one of them calls, licking his lower lip.
“Hi, handsome,” I whisper, walking closer. I run a finger down his arm and bat my lashes.
He grins and holds the door open. Before I finally step into the club, the other guard reaches for my butt. I sway my body just enough to evade his touch. Anger surges inside me, but I look back, biting my lower lip with a pretentious smile. He winks, then looks away.
I exhale and take in my environment. The room flashes with red and blue lights, while a bass thumping hip hop song plays through the speakers. People rock and sway to the music and the crowded dance floor, throwing their hands up.
My eyes journey around the length and breadth of the room, searching for one of Don Bernardi’s men. His crime family exceeds the borders of New York and is numbered in the thousands. It can be hard to locate a member, but it helps that all his trusted members have a sword tattoo on the neck.
At the bar, one handsome man with tattoos and black hair pulled back into a ponytail chats with another guy in all black. The tatted guy is dressed like the men who killed Angelo, and he also has that sword tattoo on his neck.
He’s one of them.
Brushing close with death required lots of courage. For the past year, I've been gathering that, so I'm not afraid of the consequences. All I have to do is take the plunge.
I perch on a bar stool next to the inked guy. He notices me right away but looks away. Then he looks back again, as if his brain had just interpreted the image he saw. I look at him, and our eyes lock. The first things that strike me are his sexy green eyes and full lips.
Careful, Daniella, don’t lose focus!
He sits straight, legs spread on the stool like he owns the whole bar. Maybe he does. There’s an interesting aloofness about him. He appears inviting and dangerous simultaneously.
The bartender asks what he can get me, and I order a vodka martini.
"Hi," I say to the inked guy while waiting for the drink, but he doesn't respond. He’s busy staring at my breasts. The lust in his eyes reminds me I haven't been with a man for a year. Now’s not the time to think about that, however. I need to get close to one of his men if I want to get close to the man who killed my brother.
“How about you do something other than stare?” I say, chuckling seductively. I prop my elbow against the dress, pushing the boobs higher. My target swallows and smiles.
Man down, I scream in my head.
He leans in gently. “I can do a lot more than stare.”
“Like?” I bit the corner of my lower lip, gazing at him. He looks puzzled, as if he hasn’t met a woman like me in a while. It’s easy to get so flirty around him. He’s easily the most attractive man I’ve seen all my life.
“Dance. I’d love to dance with thisbellissima.” His Italian accent is sexy. Everything about this man is hot!
I nod, reaching for the martini the bartender just placed before me. “You have it.”
After two sips of the drink, I get off the barstool, striding onto the dance floor.
He watches me with those narrow green eyes. His smile is so perfect that even my desire for revenge can’t stop me from liking it. He gets off the stool and joins me.
His eyes fall on my lips as he wraps his hands around my waist. I curl my hands around his shoulders, and together, we move to the rhythm of the song pounding through the speakers.
