Chapter 3
The moment my eyes open, everything that happened last night hits me. And the fact that I’m in a bed in Antonio Gambino’s house has my heart racing. Granted, it’s not his bed. But after having him drag me out of the station and knowing exactly what they were trying to charge me with, well, I was already far too embarrassed to then try to hit on him… only to have him shut me down.
“Oh my god!” I groan as something vibrates beside me. I look to the bedside table and find my phone plugged into a charger. My brows pull down. Did Antonio find my clutch? He must have.
I pick up my phone, pull the cord out from the bottom, and a million missed message notifications light up my screen. Great.
I open the chat with the girls first, knowing theirs will be easier to deal with. Without reading their texts, I type out one of my own.
Me:
I’m fine. Still breathing. Sorry. A lot happened last night… but not what you’re thinking. Fill you in later.
I close out of that thread and look at all the others. There are messages from each of my parents, my brother, my uncles, and my grandfather.
“Shit,” I groan as I decide to open my brother’s next.
Dante:
I don’t know where you are, but for once, I’m not the one in trouble. Where are you? I’ll come get you? If you need me to cover for you, let me know. Also, prostitution? Really, Tilly? I know you ain’t that hard up for money.
Me:
It was a case of mistaken identity. I’m fine. Tell the oldies I’ll call them back soon.
I almost ask him to come and pick me up. Clearly, I need coffee before dealing with my family. Because no way do I need them to find out where I slept last night. Even if I was completely alone in this room.
I pull myself out of bed. There are three doors, and I’m betting one of them will lead me to a bathroom. The first door is a closet. I shut it and quickly move on to the next.
“Thank god,” I mumble under my breath as I close myself inside the bathroom and use the toilet. When I’m done, I wash my hands and balk at my reflection in the mirror. “Great,” I mutter as I squirt more soap into my hands and scrub at my face, hoping it will remove all of last night’s makeup. After I’m satisfied I no longer look like a half-dead racoon, I comb my fingers through my hair. “It’ll have to do. He didn’t want you last night when you were dressed up like a hooker. He’s definitely not going to want you this morning.”
It doesn’t matter.
At least that’s what I’m telling myself to get my feet moving. My costume is discarded on the floor by the bed. I contemplate putting the skirt back on. But this shirt I’m wearing—his shirt—covers more of my butt than that little bit of red leather ever did. I refrain from bringing the collar up to my nose to sniff it. I’m not that creepy. Besides, I did enough of that last night before I fell asleep.
I open the bedroom door and tentatively peer down the hall. It literally only takes five steps before one of Antonio’s men nods his head at me. “Boss is in the kitchen,” he says.
Boss.It’s a relatively new title. Antonio’s father died a few months back. I wonder how he’s coping with the change? He’s very young to be a Don, and I can’t imagine it’s an easy job.
“Thanks,” I reply, my voice quiet.
Why do I feel like I’m doing the walk of shame when I didn’t even get to do any of the stuff that happens before the whole shaming me part?
It seems a little unfair. Like I’ve been cheated. Also, I have no idea where the freaking kitchen is. Maybe I should just try to find the front door and hightail it out of here. Except my good manners insist that I should at least thank the man before skipping out on him. He didn’t have to come and get me out of that bind last night. He also didn’t have to let me stay at his house and avoid the wrath of my parents for a few hours.
When I find myself standing in the foyer, I hesitate. The front door is right there. I could just slip out unnoticed. It’s not like Antonio would actually care, right? He’s probably forgotten I’m even here.
“Thinking about sneaking out, Little Valentino?”
I jump at the sound of the voice, turn around, and come face-to-face with Emillio. Antonio’s younger brother.
“What? No… I wasn’t…” I shake my head.
“Yes, you were,” he says. His lips tip up into a smirk as he lets his eyes travel up and down my body.
I hold last night’s costume tighter to my chest as a fresh wave of heat creeps onto my cheeks.
“Come on. This is far too entertaining for me to miss.” Emillio wraps his arms around my shoulders and guides me in the opposite direction. Away from my only chance of a somewhat less embarrassing escape.
“Wait. Where are you taking me?” I ask as I dig my feet into the flooring.
“Breakfast.” He smiles wide. “It’s the most important meal of the day, Little V, and you look like you’re all but withering away. Do they not feed you in that castle of yours?”
“I get fed plenty.” I roll my eyes and somehow end up letting Emillio guide me farther into the house.
We end up in a dining room. A dining room full of men. Antonio’s men. I look around the huge table. There have to be at least fifteen guys seated here, and none of them is Antonio. The only one I recognize is his best friend. Rafe. Who meets my eyes and smiles.
“Shit, this’ll be good. Clear the knives off the table, boys.”
I look to Emillio, then down at the arm he still has draped over my shoulders. “Right? That’s what I thought,” he agrees.
The door swings open and my breath halts. Antonio walks—no, more like saunters into the room. His gaze is focused on his phone. Then his head snaps up. And those dark, empty eyes meet mine. My heart races. I suck in a breath and try to school my features.
He doesn’t want you, Tilly.Last night made that more than obvious.
So why does my body still crave his touch? My fingers clench around the leather of my costume as I somehow clutch it tighter to my body.
“What the fuck?” Antonio hisses. “Emillio.” He directs his icy glare to his brother.
“I caught this one trying to sneak out.” Emillio shrugs and tugs me closer to his side. “What kind of hosts would we be if we didn’t feed her first?”
Without another word, Antonio walks up to me, stopping when there’s a few inches between us. I look up at him. “You’ve got three fucking seconds,” he growls. His eyes are on me, but it’s clear he’s talking to his brother.
I glance from one to the other. I have no idea what’s happening here.
Emillio laughs as he drops his arm from my shoulders and steps back. I watch as he then walks over to the dining table and takes a seat. When I look back at Antonio, he’s still glaring down at me.
“Um, I…” Shoot, think, Tilly. Say something. Anything.
Antonio reaches out and grabs the bundle of clothes out of my hands. “Joey, burn these,” he grunts as he passes my costume to one of his men.
“Wait! What? No.” My brain finally decides to work as I attempt to grab a handful of red leather. “Those boots cost me three grand.”
“You can afford the loss.” Antonio’s eyes rake over my body, and I feel even more exposed now that I’m not holding my clothes against me. I’m still in nothing but the shirt he gave me and my red lace thong. “Fuck,” he hisses out, his jaw clenched as he removes his jacket and quickly passes it to me. “Put this on,”
“Why?”
Antonio leans into my ear while keeping his voice low. “Because I don’t want to have to cut the eyes out of all the men in this room, Matilda.”
It takes everything in me to not melt into a puddle at his closeness. I can smell him—sandalwood and citrus—while the warmth of his body heats my own. Or is it just my need that has me so hot and bothered right now?
Antonio doesn’t wait for an answer before he wraps the jacket around my shoulders. “Hungry?”
Ravenous. Just not for food.
Of course I don’t say that aloud. Instead, I nod my head at the same time my stomach decides to confirm my answer for me.
“Good. Come eat.” He places a hand on my lower back and guides me over to the chair next to his brother.
I glance at Emillio, who just continues to smile at me. “So, big night, huh?”
My eyes widen. Oh my god, do they think…?
I look around the table. All eyes are on me. I can feel my cheeks heating up again.
“Don’t you have something better to be doing?” Antonio asks his brother.
“Me? Nope, nothing better than this,” Emillio responds.
“Find something then,” Antonio grunts.
“Fine. Ruin all my fun.” Emillio pushes up from his chair and shoots another smirk in my direction. “See you around, Little V.” Then he walks out, and as if on cue, the rest of Antonio’s men make excuses to leave. All except Rafe.
The tension in the air is thick and I have no idea what it’s about. I look between Rafe and Antonio, who starts piling a plate with food before he sets it down in front of me. “Eat.”
I narrow my eyes at him. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him where to shove his food. I’m not a dog and I don’t need to be spoken to like one. Something has me thinking better of it—whether it’s my good upbringing or my need to people please, I couldn’t tell you. I shake my head and reel in my composure.
“Thank you,” I mutter as I pick up the cutlery and start with the pancakes.