Chapter 3
Chapter Three
B ianca
I’m rooted to where Gaetano left me as I watch him walk away. He’s in the elevator, and the doors are closing on him without him ever glancing my way again. I don’t understand why I feel like he took something when he left.
He called me a stunner. Me. The word leaves me dumbfounded. Does Gaetano calling me a stunner mean what I think it does?
No. No, I’m being stupid. I try to open the door to find the door was already locked again. Damn it. I dig through my purse for my key card. I’m scanning in and find Joanna two feet from the door.
Her eyes are wide. “Oh my god, what happened?”
I shrug. “Nothing.”
If it’s possible, her eyes are even wider.
“Nothing. Hello. He’s ancient. He doesn’t want someone like me. It was just him being nice.”
“He called you stunning. That was not him being nice. I can’t believe you didn’t get that.”
“It was. He dropped me like I was a hot potato and left without even saying goodbye. So, obviously , he changed his mind. It’s fine. He’s ancient anyway—it’s not like I want him.” I lie through my teeth.
It’s a lie because I do want him. I want him to make me feel as safe and desired in a way I’ve never felt before—not even with Sandro. I mean, I’m not supposed to feel desired by Sandro, ew. But I always felt safe with Sandro, it’s why I miss him so much. “Whatever, come on. I want to order nachos. I’m starving.”
It's clear she doesn’t want to drop it, but she does. “Are you going to get in trouble with Sandro? What did Gaetano mean about the vodka? I was supposed to say Kitty, right?”
“Yeah, thank you. I don’t know. I got annoyed at the way he called me a girl, like it was an insult, and stupidly lied. It’s fine. I’m good with Kitty not being allowed to come onto the property, which was the last threat from Sandro if Kitty behaved badly again.”
My friends thought it was odd for me to move from the house I grew up in into the hotel and casino after my dad died last year. I had to. Sandro didn’t ask for my permission or anything. He sat me down and told me that with our dad dead, he needed to take his place at Luca’s side, and he couldn’t do that more than half an hour out in the suburbs.
And because I’m a good girl, I didn’t cry or beg to stay in the only home I had ever known the way I wanted to. I swallowed those tears down and accepted what I was told—like there was anything else I could do.
Later, when I was alone, I would cry. Because even though I hadn’t seen my father in more than a decade, I grieved the long-held dream that I had would never happen—he would never fall at my feet, apologizing for ignoring me all these years, and be the father I wished for.
Then again, I might not have had a father the way my friends did. However, I had something better, I had Sandro. Sandro was there in the middle of the night when I was sick, he taught me to swim, and he did everything he could so I would never miss the father I didn’t have.
After a year living here, I’ve come to love it. Not having to worry about cleaning chores or even doing my own laundry was cool. To top it off, I got to order whatever I wanted to eat whenever I wanted to eat it. It was kind of cool.
“Seriously, you don’t want him? He’s scary hot.”
I shake my head. “I really don’t.” Because he is scary, but not in the way she thought of him. The memories of my mother were fewer than I would like, but I never forget the way she would say loving a man like my father, a mafia man, was like loving a black hole. They would swallow you whole, and you would never be free of them.
I didn’t need to hear the repeated lectures from Sandro that men from the Outfit were off-limits to me. I didn’t want to get sucked into a black hole. Looking into Gaetano’s eyes, I at last understood what my mother meant. He would suck me in and never let me go.
Joanna gets it and hugs me tight. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll find someone, eventually. When you’re ready.”
I’m nodding. I smile to reassure her. Except I don’t believe it. I’ll never fall in love. Love hurts too much.
Gaetano
Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back to the headrest in my car. It doesn’t help. All I want is to go back inside and steal Bianca away. Everything in me aches with need to simply touch her again.
My phone alerts with a text. It’s from Sandro, asking if Bianca got home and everything is good.
The text is a kick to my balls, exactly what I need. His timing is, as always, fucking impeccable. I reply everything went to plan and she’s home now with Joanna. I’m not mentioning the warning I had sent to Megan’s father. I’ll tell him later, not by text. That isn’t something we put in writing—ever.
That’s what it was—she’s forbidden. That’s the only reason I want her. It’s always the things we can’t have that we want the most. It wasn’t the way everything went from black and dreary to technicolor at her touch. It sure as fuck wasn’t the way her body responded to my touch, how she felt pressed up against me for those few precious seconds. And I’m wrong. She didn’t feel like she belonged in my arms.
I shouldn’t have done it. I had no right to drag her down to hell with me, even for a moment. She was too pure, too sweet, too untouchable.
This night didn’t happen. Forget Bianca, for the both of us.
Gaetano
Sandro approaches me with a nod the next morning. “How did everything go last night? Bobby mentioned he was the one to take Kitty home. Why?”
“Because your sister is a brat. Kitty brought vodka to the party. It’s the same reason I sent Megan, who came completely wasted with a flask of her father’s home with the warning she wasn’t allowed within a hundred feet of Bianca by order of the Outfit.”
His eyes go wide.
“She called Bianca a bitch for spilling her drink on her. When Bianca did it to keep her from throwing a fit over me taking the flask away.”
His jaw tightens. “I can’t fucking believe Megan or Bianca. I’ve got one rule, and she can’t follow that. Thanks for adding that to Megan’s father. It keeps me from going after the little piece of trash the way I want. I’m putting an order in. Kitty isn’t allowed on the property now. I should have stayed. I’m sorry for putting you through that. Bianca’s usually better behaved than last night.”
“If she is, I couldn’t tell. She’s seriously spoiled. In the future, I’m not the one to play babysitter to her ass—please. I can’t promise you’ll get her back in one piece.” It’s a warning, and I hope for her sake, as well as mine, that he heeds it. I’ve already proven I’m weak as fuck where the girl is concerned. Only her far away from me is going to save either one of us.
Bianca
The slamming door warns me Sandro is coming in hot. Shit. Gaetano ratted me out.
I wince as Sandro pounds on my bedroom door like he’s a cop. Thank fuck Joanna left already. “Bianca!”
Opening the door, I paste a nervous smile on my face. “Hello, brother dear?—"
He shakes his head the moment he sees me. “No. Don’t even try it. What the fuck, Bianca? Drinking. I don’t give a shit if you think you’re grown. You sure as shit aren’t. You’re grounded from your cell and Joanna for a week. Hand over your phone right now.”
Sighing, I don’t bother arguing. He takes my cell phone. Yet I can’t help trying to defend myself. “It wasn’t like that. Megan?—”
“It wasn’t? Because you were so bad, Gaetano basically refused to ever have anything to do with you again. I’ve done my best not to have you around mafia men, but Gaetano is one of the few I trust and trust with you. Now, if I need his help when it comes to you, I’ll owe him times ten. You’re lucky it’s just a week. Kitty isn’t allowed on the property, and Megan is out. Megan and her family have been warned by order of the Outfit.”
Oh fuck.
“Exactly. Better that than me making her pay for her disrespect to you. And why did that happen? Because she was drunk. Stupid shit happens when you get drunk. The kind of shit that leaves us bare to the public. Do you not understand that?” I’ve never seen Sandro this angry.
And it wasn’t fair. I wasn’t the one who fucked up. “Megan came drunk. I didn’t even know she was coming. Kitty called her after the purses?—”
“There are no excuses. None. You are responsible for the company you keep. I’ve told you this before. Make better choices.” Without another word, he’s gone.
Sighing, I throw myself on the bed. I swear to god. Fucking Gaetano. He didn’t have to go that far. What a ginormous dick. Sandro would owe him for putting up with me ? He’d be lucky if I allowed him to breathe the same air as me.
Gaetano
My front door opens without warning, yanking me out of restless sleep. Sonofabitch. “What the fuck are you doing just coming in? Give me your fucking key. Your privileges are cut the fuck off.”
The little fucker laughs. “What the fuck crawled up your ass and died? You told me to sleep over tonight on that torture device you call a mattress in the guest bedroom so I could be up at the butt crack of dawn to take the guns to Reno. Since your SUV wasn’t in the driveway, I assumed you were dealing with business.”
Shit. “What time is it?” I grab my phone to confirm the clock on the wall is actually p.m. instead of the a.m. I thought it was, and his contrarian ass had chosen to sleep at his place rather than the rock-hard mattress I have in the guest bedroom. Not again.
“Big brother hitting another stretch of insomnia. Or have you been leaning on the gummies too much?”
“Fuck you. I’m not getting sleep because I’m not leaning on the gummies. The last fucking thing I want is to be high when Sandro needs me.” And I’m pissed because this means I’ll have to if I want to sleep.
Dario shakes his head. “What’s stressing you out?”
“Nothing. My SUV is in the garage because I didn’t feel like unloading the guns into the garage. Like I have to explain myself to you.” Dario runs the brothel for the Outfit, which is about an hour and a half out of Vegas.
Everyone hated running the guns to Reno. Which is why it’s something everyone has to take a turn doing so not one person does it more than another.
Rolling his eyes at me, he goes into my kitchen and opens the refrigerator. “What the hell?” He practically slams the door of the fridge. “It’s empty, Gaetano.”
I close my eyes to shut him out. It’s that or hit him. “I’ve been busy.”
“Gaetano, your fridge is never empty. There’s only condiments and some damn butter. How busy have you been?”
My fridge is never empty because growing up, after our mom died, it was empty unless I filled it. I was the one going to the grocery store, using the money I stole from my dad’s wallet and his car that I was too damn young to drive legally to get good for my brothers. None of that mattered to me. I had two little brothers who needed to eat.
I’m refusing to open my eyes because my little brother knows me well. He’ll see the hunger gnawing at my fucking gut that food won’t sate. If I look into his eyes, then I’ll admit I’ve been stalking a teenage girl like some damn creep for the last month. That I couldn’t go a fucking week before I was climbing the walls with the need to know her every movement. That I killed a man to keep him away from her. The guy had some charges against him for domestic violence. I saw a chance to make him disappear, and I took it before he put his hands on Bianca the way he did other women.
I couldn’t complain to Dario that it wasn’t easy watching her because I couldn’t get access to her location the way I wanted. Yes, she has a tracking device in her right molar, the same as everyone in the Outfit here in Vegas. It was a declaration by Luca, a safety thing to keep track of our men.
A record was kept of who gained access to someone's location. Damn, Valdez, the guy over the security company that supplied them and had them put in us, thought it was as important as Luca having the location. Luca went over it daily.
So, I could only go by the tracker on her SUV. If it moved, I got a notification, and if I was free, my ass was following her. I’m both pissed and grateful she moved into her dorm two weeks ago. Grateful because I could sneak in and install cameras to watch her. Pissed because she spent all her time in the rec area and not in her room where I could watch her. There’s no way in hell someone like me could be see-through on a college campus. I managed to get into her room by wearing a coverall and pretending to be from maintenance.
Dario would never let me live it down if he knew how low I’ve sunk into this need for a barely eighteen-year-old girl. The need to see her, to touch her…
“Gaetano, what the hell is going on? Are you okay?”
The concern in his voice sends my eyes open. No, as much of a pain in the ass as he can be—he’s the little brother, and I’ll never let him worry about me.
“I’m fine. Just busy trying to learn the new program for billing. And how the hell to make it look like it isn’t the money laundering thing it is. How about you go get us some food? Now that you’re mentioning food, I’m hungry.”
His eyes clear, and he nods. “Sounds good. I’m starving. What sounds good?”
After some back and forth, we settle on a favorite restaurant of ours.
Before he leaves, he shakes his head. “While I’m gone, make an appointment with Stella. Maybe if you got some, you wouldn’t be even more of a grouchy motherfucker than you usually are.”
I sigh. That’s what it is—I haven’t had sex in almost three months. My preference is for my hand, but I’m still above average if need hits me more than once a week. Stella—real name Sara—is a working woman at the brothel the Outfit controls and Dario runs. She’s the only woman I see because she’s the only one who accepts my guidelines of no touching and usually from behind. For the last four years, Stella has been my exclusive fuck.
I’m in my phone for her number. As the phone rings, my cock, that was previously thick at the mere thought of Bianca, goes limp. I go to end the call, but her voice comes through before I do.
“Gaetano, I was beginning to wonder if you found someone else. It feels like ages since you called.”
“You open tomorrow?”
“For you, absolutely.” She rushes to assure me.
“Good, I’m not sure of the time. I’ll call before I head out to you.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Ending the call, I bring up the camera in Bianca’s room. She’s watching something on her laptop. Whatever it is has her laughing, and fuck my chest aches, wondering what it would be like if she laughed like that with me.
Gaetano
This isn’t happening. No fucking way. It’s been since my shitty marriage when Mary kept forcing herself on me that my dick wouldn’t get hard for a woman.
It doesn’t matter that Stella has done everything right. She was naked beneath the robe she wore when I walked through the door. I’m not subjected to small talk. With a smile, she dropped the robe and crawled onto the bed—presenting her body to me and allowing me to study her body the way I liked.
None of that mattered—my cock won’t rise. I squeeze my eyes shut. Fucking hell, I’m swallowing down the bitter laugh rising in my throat. All I want is Bianca. And my cock won’t accept anything else.
“Gaetano, did I do something wrong?” Stella’s eyes are wide.
Clenching my jaw, I shake my head. “Did you still want to start that eyelash business out in LA?”
Gaetano
A month later
I’m antsy, annoyed with everyone, so I can get the fuck home and plug into Bianca’s feed. I bite my tongue not to swear when Sandro gets a text. He lets loose the curse word I want to.
“What’s up?” I worry it’s business that will keep me away from home.
“Bianca is pissed. She found out I picked her roommate.”
I send an eyebrow up at him.
One shoulder goes up. “Like I was really going to leave something like that to chance. She’s a kid on scholarship. I wanted a good influence on Bianca. And I don’t know what she’s bitching about—she and the girl get along.”
Another text comes through. He reads it and rolls his eyes. “Not this again. She’s got a hair up her ass. Keeps accusing me of having something to do with a guy asking her out disappearing.”
I go still then force out the question I know the answer to. “So you didn’t have something to do with the guy?”
His sigh is heavy. “No, although I reserve the right to gut a fucker for hurting her—I don’t know what the fuck she’s talking about. Bobby thinks I should…you know, let her have the college experience and shit.”
Running a hand over his face, his jaw tightens. “It’s the last damn thing I want to do. At the same time, it’s what they do—civilians. They go to college and meet who they want to marry and all that shit. I want that for her. To meet a civilian, someone in IT, or a lawyer, or something, anything that will keep her in the lifestyle she deserves. She’s not going to find someone if I kill every guy who looks her way.”
The words are stuck in my throat. To argue with him, he does need to kill every guy who looks her way because they don’t deserve her. The little fucker who asked for her number had multiple charges of assault on women, and two women had taken out restraining orders against him. He didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as Bianca.
“Have no doubt, every guy who gets close to her will be vetted times ten. But if he’s a good guy. Then I need to give her space to, you know, fall in love or whatever.”
I’m nodding. Agreeing with him. Even though everything in me wants to argue.
Long after he’s gone, I sit in my car turning over his words in my head. What the hell am I doing? There is no scenario where Sandro will accept me and Bianca getting together. He made a promise to his mother on her deathbed. It would take him dying before he broke that promise. Hell, if he knew he was dying, he would still ask me, Bobby, or Luca, to try and see it through for him.
I don’t want him to fail in that promise. His mother was a good woman who loved her family deeply. Even though she had no love for the mafia, she always treated me and my brothers good. She stepped in and went shopping for me and my brother to keep food in the house after my mom died. As a mom through and through, she saw three kids who needed one.
It was her love for Bianca that had her demanding Sandro promise the best she could think of. And that was a life outside of the mafia. A life without someone like me in it.
I bring up the app for her camera feed and delete it.