Page 12 of Heart's Temptation
I couldn’t help the roll of laughter. “Obviously not, I was referring to the youngest Beomi brat.”
It was Simo’s turn to glare at me with a warning look. “Don’t talk about Gia; she isn’t a brat. She just needs someone to show her limits.”
Romeo and I exchanged looks of amusement. Apparently, our giant of a brother had a new fixation. Prior to Vittoria joining the family as Romeo’s wife, we’d done research on her. That’s when we learned of the identity of her four best friends, all daughters of lesser mafia dons.
Gia was the youngest in her family, and with seven older siblings, she was at the very bottom of the totem pole of importance and took advantage of the freedoms her position in the family offered her. Total brat.
I’d come back that night after following Tano and one of my new waitresses into the back room, to see my brothers, Antonio, Fausto, and Massimo with Vittoria’s friends, and Romeo and Vittoria gone.
Even then I could tell Simo had a thing for Gia and I couldn’t help teasing him about it still. “You know she wasn’t good enough for you, right brother?”
Romeo raised his eyebrow but didn’t say a word.
Massimo spun in his seat and partially rose. “You don’t speak about her, ever!” He sat back in his seat at Romeo’s prompting.
“I’m just teasing, big bro. Take a play out of my book and fuck whoever you want.”
He scrubbed his face with his fists. “That’s the problem. She’s who I want to fuck.”
Finally, things were getting interesting. “So, what’s the problem?”
Romeo’s phone beeped and he frowned at the message. “Time to go, Vittoria is cramping again, and the doc is on his way.”
He hustled away, followed by a reluctant Simo, who took one last look at Gia before following Rom out the door. I was thankful that I wasn’t Romeo’s enforcer. Out of all of us, Simo seemed the least likely to get what he wanted out of life, not because he was limited, but because he would always put Romeo first. Women didn’t like to be in competition with a man’s family. Until he learned to put himself first, nothing would change for him.
Not my problem; though Marko, however, was. I drained my drink. It was time to find out what my friend had been up to and with whom. When the club closed, I ran the accounting software and locked the place up for the night.
I thought about going home and napping for a few hours, but my gut was telling me to drive to New York. I hit the outskirts of the city just as the sun was rising. Probably the best time to see The City That Never Sleeps.
The morning traffic hadn’t kicked in quite yet and the streets boasted only a few pedestrians, most of whom were out for a morning jog before work. I was reminded of a trip Marko, Nicolette and I took to the Big Apple to see some Russian ballet company performing. At the time, I thought I’d rather be in a street war than see a ballet. It turned out I’d enjoyed the performance. Not so much the one on stage, but the one between the three of us.
My father purchased a box every year and gave out tickets as rewards for good service and as comps to curry favor with those we wanted to be in bed with. When I told him we were going, he’d no problem sectioning it off for us. We had a lot of space as the box held eight seats but only the three of us were there. We’d taken Nicolette shopping during the day for a dress to wear. That had been fun too. Marko helped in the dressing room while I kept them guarded. There were so many giggles and shushes that came from behind the curtain I was almost jealous.
The only thing that had kept me from going in and adding to the mayhem was knowing she’d be mine at the ballet. But something else possessed me once the curtain rose: Niki, on the edge of her seat wearing an expression I’d never seen on her beautiful face before, longing. As the night continued, passion mixed with desire, and I found myself completely smitten with the ever-changing expressions on her face as the performance unfolded before us.
I’d fallen in love with her that night. Until then, I’d thought I was in love with her, but what I loved was our trio, how she fit in with me and Marko and the possession of her. I owned her and we all knew it. Then that one magical night in the Big Apple changed my perception forever.
Get your head on straight, Vitale, I chastised. The past is behind you where it belongs.
When I arrived at the hotel Marko had been tracked to, I checked in and received a key card. I swiped it over the scanner in the elevator. The doors opened to the private lobby in the suite. The blackout screens were already open and warm sunlight poured in through the ten-foot sliding glass doors that ran the length of the patio.
It wasn’t until I glanced down that I noticed things were not right. There were two champagne glasses on the coffee table and a woman's scarf hanging over the couch. That little fucker. He must have decided to use the place and entertain his so-called friend.
Deciding to scare the shit out of him, I removed my shoes and tiptoed across the marble floor to bedroom number one. I slowly opened the door, expecting to interrupt something, but there was no one there. I took the stairs up to the second level and found a trail of clothing leading to one of the five bedrooms there.
I cracked open the door and sure enough, Marko was in bed with a woman trapped beneath his huge body. I tiptoed around to his side, picked up a half-filled glass off the nightstand, and took a whiff. Only water. I dipped my fingers in and sprinkled it on his arm. He rolled away from the woman and when he removed his arm from around her, I got a good look at who he was in bed with.
Niki.
Shock, rage, and betrayal all waged war within me. Finally rage won out. “What the fuck is going on?” I roared.
Marko jolted, and fell out of the bed, getting to his feet in record time. His gaze found mine and an entire litany of expressions passed, ending with guilt.
I stared at him, too shocked to say anything beyond my initial outburst.
I can’t even.
“It’s not what you think, Gio.”