14. Manuel
FOURTEEN
MANUEL
T he world was a small place indeed.
I hadn’t expected to find Athena on the list of friends I was sent to chauffeur.
Of course, if I hadn’t missed Reina Romero’s show, I probably would have been less surprised. And come to think of it, some of these girls looked very similar to the ones Athena had been laughing and dancing with that fateful night.
My gaze was focused on the road as the girls chatted in the back seat. Amadeo sat next to me, grinning like a fool, smashed between four women in variations of pink and lace, while Enzo opted to keep some dignity and sit in the passenger’s seat.
It took the women almost a whole hour to get ready, drawing Enzo and Amadeo out of the car and up to the apartment to see what was taking so long. The three of us ended up sitting in the small living room, watching the commotion of women as they all scrambled to use one bathroom to make themselves presentable.
It was a good thing Enrico sent the dresses for the four women or they would have taken days to get ready.
Of course, Isla’s sudden wedding was a surprise to all of them, but they must have at least known about Enrico because I kept hearing them mumbling jokes about a “hot Italian daddy.” However, it was apparent nobody knew about Athena’s little hookup with me, and I was happy to keep it that way.
There were a lot of oohs and aahs, but Athena kept mostly quiet, inserting a word or two occasionally, barely maintaining her composure with the frozen smile on her face while her gaze flicked to me every so often.
I couldn’t keep the smug smile off my own face.
While I waited for the girls to get ready, I sent Ghost a message and was eager to hear back from him. I was sure he’d come back to me with everything on my little escape artist. In the meantime, I’d do some of my own research as well.
I darted a glance to the rearview mirror to find her eyes already on me and smirked as she averted her gaze.
I’m going to have fun playing with you, amorina.
We celebrated Enrico and Isla’s wedding intimately—to no one’s surprise.
Bouquets of red and white roses were scattered across each table. The dining room of Enrico’s home had been transformed for the reception. The crystals in the chandelier glimmered, throwing a soft glow around the room. Candles set off a romantic mood in the atmosphere, making the space feel cozy and comfortable.
It was clear to everyone how close the girls were. They seemed to move in unison as they danced with abandon—carefree like only women in their early twenties could be. Christ, nothing made me feel older.
I caught Athena’s eyes on me, but once again, she looked away. She was stubborn as fuck, but she didn’t know that her stubbornness was no match for mine.
I’d looked up information on Athena Kosta, and much to my surprise, there wasn’t much that came up. Parents’ names: unknown. Date of birth: unknown. Family: unknown. It almost looked like her identity and footprint on the web had been wiped.
“What do we know about Isla’s friends? I assume you ran a background check on all of them,” I asked Enrico.
He shrugged. “Aside from the Romero girls, not much. I know they’ve been friends for years, and knowing Illias Konstantin and his brotherly overbearing skills, he must have had them all cleared.”
That made sense. The Russian Pakhan had always been protective of his family.
My gaze flicked to Enrico who grabbed a glass vase, then extended a hand to his bride who watched him suspiciously.
“It’s time to break the glass,” I explained. “For buona fortuna .”
By the expression on Isla’s face—and her friends’—they had no idea about Italian customs.
“For good luck,” Enrico clarified. “The number of broken pieces will represent the number of years we’ll be happily married.”
Isla snickered softly, her little button nose scrunching. “Well, by all means. You’re gonna need all the luck you can get.”
Athena laughed, then as if she caught herself, she stopped. Enrico and Isla made their way to the corner of the room, everyone following them, but Athena and I lingered behind.
“Stop looking at me,” she hissed under her breath, her eyes trained on her friends. “Someone will see.”
I brought my hand around her waist, smiling.
“See what?” She rolled her eyes but refused to take the bait. I bent my head, pausing right at her earlobe before whispering, “You might as well let them see, because soon the whole world will know you’re mine.”
With each passing moment, the mystery surrounding her appealed to me more.
Her eyes widened. “Jesus, are all Italians crazy?”
“No, just us Marchettis.”
Before she could say anything else, Isla’s voice traveled through the room.
“I hope you know, I won’t be cleaning this up.” I chuckled, so ready to see Isla wreak havoc on Enrico’s life.
“It’s your wedding day. You’re not expected to clean or cook today,” Enrico explained.
Isla rolled her eyes. “Or ever.”
“How about you, Athena? Do you cook?” Not that it mattered, but I wanted to know more about her.
She turned to face me. “I don’t cook or clean either. And I spend a lot of money.”
I leaned over, brushing my mouth over her cheek. “Don’t worry, amorina , you won’t have to do any of that. And I have plenty of money for you to spend.”
“Trouble always finds me. In more ways than one.”
It was a peculiar comment to make, but I wouldn’t let anything deter me.
“I’ll always get you out of trouble,” I retorted. “Enjoy today, because tomorrow, my courtship starts.”
“Did you bump your head and decide to go all Mark Darcy on me?” Athena scoffed.
“I don’t know who that is, but he better not show his face around me.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s a movie character.”
I smirked, pleased it wasn’t a real person. “Well, then he might live to see another day.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Does it look like I am?” I ran my tongue across my teeth, though the tension in my body demanded I corner this woman so I could have my way with her. “I’m going to fuck the memory of every other man—fictional or not—out of your mind until you’re so obsessed with me, you’ll never leave my bed again. Not willingly, anyhow.”
Athena opened her mouth just as a glass was sent shattering across the marble floor. She took the opportunity to move away from me, leaving whatever she was going to say in the lurch.
It didn’t matter, though. I was a man on a mission. And despite how hard she worked to hide it, I could see the fire in Athena’s eyes.
Seated behind my desk, I conducted business while the moon glimmered high over Paris.
My cell phone buzzed with a message from Ghost and I slid it open.
Air whooshed out of my lungs as my eyes scanned over the information. With each read word, realization hit me in the chest like a hammer.
How was that possible?
My shock vibrated through every fiber of me. I wasn’t shocked often anymore, but this… I wasn’t expecting this .
Alexandra Bottelli’s child.
The woman I had dated once upon a time. The woman who I learned didn’t mind using anyone or anything to get what she wanted.
I hadn’t forgotten her; she was definitely a lesson worth remembering—not in a good way either. But her mother’s identity wasn’t even the worst part. It was her father’s name that had the world tilting on its axis. Suddenly, so many things made sense.
No fucking wonder the Triads and Atticus were roaming the Omertà territory.
Granted, Paris wasn’t our territory, but we had an alliance with the Corsican mafia, both of us strictly against certain trades, the main one being flesh trading.
Slowly, my shock was replaced by anger that lashed at my insides like a whip. Maybe Athena knew and was playing me on her mother’s instruction.
I would find out, but if that was true, my little amorina had made a grave mistake. She had waded into a den of lions without the slightest protection, leaving herself vulnerable.
I quickly typed my thanks to Kingston—the Omertà’s ghost—then grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair.
It was time I paid a certain woman a visit.