Sweet Prison (Perfectly Imperfect #10)

“No more cognac for Tiziano,” I whisper to the serving maid while she walks by me, carrying a tray of half-filled snifters.

The girl halts, her gaze darting to the group of men seated at the table in the middle of the parlor. “But, he just asked for another. A double. Neat.”

“I know. Bring him a glass filled with flat ginger ale instead. I doubt that he’d even notice the difference at this point. If he does and starts giving you trouble, though, just turn around and leave. I’ll handle him at that point.”

I follow the server’s movements as she makes a brief detour back to the liquor cart before approaching the capos. She then sets their drinks before each man and basically hightails it from the room. My eyes zero in on Capo Tiziano while he tastes his “cognac.” He mutters for a moment, likely confused over being handed the wrong drink, but has enough sense not to escalate the matter or draw too much attention to it.