Page 35 of Daddy's Claim
Sure enough, my baby brother was waiting for us on a long leather couch in a deep, rich purple. He grinned when I entered, spreading his arms wide in welcome.
“Hello, big brother. I believe I have something that belongs to you.”
“Where is she?”
“Down there.” With a lazy wave of his hand, he gestured to the dance floor.
Fury boiled in my veins. “What the fuck, Luca? Why isn’t she up here with you, or locked in your office?”
“I figured I should let her have some fun. Knowing you, she won’t see the outside of our cousin’s house for the next month after a stunt like this.”
“So, you knew I’d be pissed about her coming to the club, but you let her in anyway. Why? Why not just send her home?”
“Because from what I’ve heard of the little firecracker, she’s not the type to give up that easily. If she’s in my club, I can keep her safe.” His grin widened. “Plus, it’s fun to watch that vein in your head pulse. You really should be careful, bro. No woman is worth an aneurysm.”
“Where is my wife, Luca?”
Heaving an exaggerated sigh, he pushed up from the couch and crossed the room to join me at the window. “See the woman dancing in the cage there? The redhead.”
“Yes.”
“To our right and toward the DJ a bit. She came in with Marissa Castiglione.”
It only took a moment for my gaze to land on her. She looked like I imagined she had before our wedding. Wild, carefree.
Happy.
I’d seen her angry, I’d seen her crying, laughing, teasing, a whole gamut of emotions. But there’d always been a sadness lurking beneath those other emotions and for once, I couldn’t see a trace of it.
“Want me to have her brought up?”
“No. I’ll go get her.”
“Sure thing. I need to make the rounds anyway, so the box is yours for the evening, if you choose to use it.”
“Thanks, Luca.” Tearing my eyes away from Nora, I glanced over at him. “Seriously. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Go get your woman.”
Nora
Getting away from the babysitter had been a feat. There had been more than one moment during my climb out of the bathroom window when I’d questioned my own sanity.
But once I was in Rissa’s car, it seemed like the worst was behind us. We breezed past the bouncers at the entrance to Temptation, one of our favorite clubs, and I made a beeline for the bar. A couple shots of whatever the nightly special was, and all thoughts of a certain gruff, sexy Italian mobster would be long gone.
Or so I thought.
By shot number three, I was beginning to doubt there was anything short of a full lobotomy that could put Michael completely out of my brain. The music helped some, and I was flying high enough to give myself over to it, even if the guilt of my little Houdini trick insisted on nagging at the back of my mind.
It wasn’t long before a body pressed against my back, way too close for my own comfort. Under other circumstances, I might have leaned into him, enjoyed the feel of a stranger’s hands on my body. But some things are beyond forgiveness, so I pulled away.
I tried to, at least. When the stranger held tight, I twisted around, ready to give him a piece of my mind—and a knee to the balls if necessary. But the scathing words stuck in my throat,and I froze in place as I came face to face with the one man who simply would not leave me alone.
Michael.
Fuck.
Expression unreadable, he wrapped his arms around me, and I braced myself for him to act like the neanderthal he was and throw me over his shoulder. I got my second shock of the evening when he simply turned me back around and leaned in to growl in my ear.