Chapter 8
EIGHT
Lissia
Being drawn to a menacing man was fun and sexy until you were actually with that man. Sure, it was exhilarating and a major turn on, but vowing to be all the things he needed was terrifying.
When have I ever run from peril?
I joined Marchello and Lorenzo at the bar, and Marchello placed his hand on the small of my back.
“You look amazing.” He kissed me and whispered against my lips, “Too good.”
Lorenzo stood from his barstool and motioned for me to have a seat. He was a tall, imposing figure with strong Latin features, and his eyes were a unique shade of gray. I had a crush on him when I was younger.
He was a man who had filled out in all the right places, so I imagined women flocked to him. How couldn’t they? I’d have to ask him if there was anyone special in his life. I hoped there was.
“Thank you.” I slid into the seat with my hand in Marchello’s.
It seemed as if everyone in the room stared at us. Why were they so fascinated? When I gazed into Marchello’s eyes, I answered my own question. Who wouldn’t be absorbed by him? Tall, dark, sexy, and a gangster.
He even drew me in, and I slept beside him every night.
Sitting here with Lorenzo only created more intrigue. If I learned anything growing up around my father, it was that people always had questions about him they were afraid to ask. The more powerful a figure, the more engaged people became.
“Did you enjoy your spa afternoon?” Lorenzo asked.
“It was incredible. You have an excellent place here.”
“Coming from a woman who has stayed at luxury hotels in many countries, I’m flattered.” Lorenzo waved the bartender over. “Cherri, get my guest a glass of the best champagne.”
“This hotel is my favorite.” I smiled at Marchello. “We love the private pool and beach right outside our room.”
“Only the best for you.” Marchello squeezed my hand. “A room fit for a queen.”
“Your queen.” I kissed his cheek. “This is going to be the best night. I can feel it.”
“I would tell you two to get a room,” Lorenzo said, “but you already have one, and then I wouldn’t be able to spend any time with my old friend.”
“Thank you so much for your hospitality, Lorenzo,” I said. “I haven’t even left and I’m already trying to figure out when I can come back.”
“Maybe we can convince Marchello to come to Argentina with us.” Lorenzo nodded toward Marchello.
I clapped my hands. “Can we? I love Buenos Aires. Lorenzo taught me to tango there.”
“Of course he did.” Marchello let out a soft laugh. “When things settle down, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”
“I have a long list.” I picked up the flute of champagne Cherri set in front of me.
“I’m sure you do.” Marchello took out the burner phone he kept with him at all times. “I have to take this.”
“Do what you have to do,” Lorenzo said. “I’ll stay with Lissia.”
Marchello hesitated, but the anxious look in his eyes said he needed to answer that call.
“I’ll be fine.” I touched his hand. “Go.”
“We’ll meet you upstairs on the terrace,” Lorenzo said. “I won’t let her out of my sight.”
“I’ll see you soon.” Marchello kissed my cheek. “Don’t find any trouble.”
“I’ll try not to.” I pushed him toward the exit. “Go, before you miss that call.”
He hurried out of the bar area, putting the phone against his ear.
“Business calls.” Lorenzo rested his arm on the bar. “He’s a very determined man.”
“He takes his work seriously.” I raised my crystal flute and sipped the bubbly liquid. “Probably as serious as you do.”
“And as serious as your father. And his father.”
“We come from a strange place, don’t we?”
“Only if we don’t learn to embrace it.”
“Have you learned to embrace all that comes with this violent world?” I asked. “You seem to have settled in rather well.”
“My father’s business was always meant to be mine. I’ve just found more creative ways to make it lucrative.”
“Is Marchello one of those ways?”
“Do you think he’d appreciate you asking me such questions?” Lorenzo pushed his glass to the end of the bar.
“Not at all.”
“Yet it doesn’t stop you.” He patted my hand. “That’s what I love about you. You’re willing to go to battle for him even if he doesn’t want you to.”
“I just wish the enemy was anyone other than my father.”
“That is a tough one,” Lorenzo said.
“I’m not saying my dad is completely innocent but…”
“He is your dad.”
“I tried to get him to listen. All he was interested in was the alliance with Danny.” I let out a frustrated breath. “It’s so aggravating.”
This whole situation was messed up. I may have gotten myself stuck in the middle, but my father had done nothing to try and make peace. And while Marchello wanted more than anything to be reunited with his dad, there were too many distractions for him even to focus on getting him back.
“Can you help Marchello?” I asked.
“Lissia?” Lorenzo shook his finger at me. “I’m not here to help Marchello. He owes me. I’m giving him an opportunity to make right what he cost me.”
“I thought we were friends.” I batted my lashes. “Old friends.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what? Help the man I…” I sighed. “Care about.”
“What is it you think I can do for him?”
“Do you know anything about his father’s situation?”
I shouldn’t be doing this, but I wanted to have a future with Marchello, and we couldn’t do that with all of these demons hanging over our heads.
“I know enough,” Lorenzo said. “It probably isn’t something you should get yourself involved with.”
“What if I can’t stop myself?”
The urge to help Marchello was my way of trying to protect him. If he expected me to accept who he was, shouldn’t he do the same for me?
“I’ll make you a deal.” He held out his hand and helped me off the barstool. “If Marchello comes to me and asks for my help, I’ll do what I can as a favor to you.”
“He won’t ask for your help.” That was the whole reason I was asking on Marchello’s behalf.
Lorenzo guided me toward the elevators. “Then maybe he doesn’t need it, bonita .”
He used to call me pretty when we were kids. The endearment still created the same thrill within me.
“I’m going to give you some advice about a man like Marchello.” He swiped his keycard on the panel by the elevator doors.
Why did I have a feeling I wasn’t going to like what he was going to tell me?
“He doesn’t want your help. You have to respect that.”
“I’m trying, but you know how difficult it is for me to follow the rules.”
“This time you’re going to have to.” He ushered me into the spacious glass elevator when the doors opened. His two guards followed and stood silently in front of us. “Trust me.”
“I’m never going to understand any of you.”
“I think you understand us better than most women.”
“Maybe that’s a curse.” I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for the advice.”
Even if it sucked.
“Hey, I tried texting you last night, but I must have an old number.”
“No.” I laughed. I was going to have plenty of texts to sort through if I ever got my phone back. “It’s the same number.”
“Why didn’t you text me back?” He pressed his keycard against the reader and entered a code into a keypad. “Should I be offended?”
“I don’t have a phone.”
“That can’t be right.”
You’re telling me.
“I had an accident. It kind of fell in a river.”
“How did that happen?” he asked.
“It’s a long story.”
* * *
Lorenzo’s words weighed heavily on my mind throughout the evening. What was it about these men that meant they found it so difficult to take help from a woman who could offer so much?
The dinner portion of Lorenzo’s event had wrapped up, and now the guests had moved on to heavy drinking and dancing. It was a little after eleven, but most of these people looked like they were going to go all night.
Lucas had retired for the evening, and Milo had found himself a beautiful local woman to occupy his time.
“Milo’s having fun.” I nodded at him as he showed off his salsa skills. “Where did he learn to dance like that?”
“Our mother,” Marchello said.
“Oh, then that must mean she taught you how to dance too?”
“She did.” He set his beer bottle on the table next to us. “That was a long time ago.”
“When you used to have fun?”
“Are you insinuating that I can’t have fun?”
“I would never.” I rocked in place to the music as I gazed out at the ocean. While I couldn’t see it in the dark, I could hear the waves and smell the salt air. “But is kidnapping your only form of entertainment?”
“Ouch.” He took my hand and brought me closer to him, smacking my chest against his hard frame. “How can I change your mind?”
“Dance with me.” I placed my hand on his shoulder.
He curled his around my back, raised our joined hands, and began moving his hips in time with the music.
“You’re very smooth,” I said.
“Milo’s not the only dancer in the family.” Marchello twirled me before bringing me back and stepping in a classic salsa motion.
I followed his lead.
“Where did you learn to salsa?” he asked.
“I went through a ballroom phase and took a few lessons when I was fifteen.”
“You constantly surprise me, princess.”
“Don’t you mean queen?” I stepped closer to him just as the song ended. “I like that better.”
The band switched to a sensual, slow-paced Latino instrumental piece. Marchello didn’t miss a step as he held me close and swayed me to the beat.
I leaned my head on his chest and breathed in his woodsy, masculine scent. I had become accustomed to his smell, especially at night. It relaxed me and gave me a sense of security when he held me in his arms as I drifted to sleep. I didn’t want to believe anything bad could ever happen when I was with him.
That had to be true, right?
When he stroked my hair, I cuddled deeper into him. Everything else faded into the background as if we were the only two on the terrace. I had lost my sense of time and space.. There was only us.
“I don’t think I told you how beautiful you look tonight.”
“You did.” I looked up at him. The conflict I usually saw in his eyes wasn’t there tonight.
“Did I?” He took my chin between his fingers.
“Right before your phone call.”
“Oh, well you have me so mesmerized that I need to say it again.”
“I’m listening.”
“You’re beautiful.”
He dropped his gaze to my mouth and lowered his lips to mine. As we moved to the music, his mouth touched mine, and little pulses of electricity shot through me. The kiss was just as exhilarating as the first time. With him, everything was always new and exciting. That was how I knew he was the one.
He drew back. “I love this color on you. It compliments your skin. You can wear a dress, my queen.”
“I have a confession to make.” I ran my palm along his stubble.
“Please tell me you’re not going to ruin this moment by pissing me off with something you did.”
“No.” I giggled. “You’re going to like this confession.”
“In that case, do tell.”
“I wore this dress for you.”
“Finally.” He lifted me off the ground and spun us in a slow circle. “Not that you shouldn’t want to look beautiful for yourself, but I know you try to entice me all the time.”
“Of course I do.” I bit my lip, ready to throw all caution to the wind. “Marchello, I have to tell you something.”
He was my safe space, and I needed him to know how much he meant to me. If he wasn’t ready to reciprocate, I wouldn’t care. Well, maybe I would care a little, but I wanted to tell him how I felt.
“What is it?” He set me down and took my hand. “Wait, let’s go back to our room and you can tell me anything you want. I might have a thing or two to tell you too.”
“Okay.” I hooked my arm in his, eager to blurt out those three big words. The words that would change the course of our relationship. He needed to hear them as much as I needed to say them.
We didn’t make it very far before the unmistakable crack of gunfire flooded the terrace. Marchello pushed me behind him and drew his gun.
Milo was by his side in three seconds. Most of the men had their weapons out as they took cover. Security shielded the few women who were on the terrace and took them through the doors leading back into the hotel.
“Take cover,” Lorenzo shouted from across the terrace.
A spray of smoke and bottles shattering filled the space, and Marchello tugged me toward a large stone pillar a few feet away. I tripped but the grip I had on Marchello’s hand prevented me from falling. My breathing grew quicker . Marchello kept us moving as we made it to safety.
Or so I thought.
We dropped down and leaned against the stone.
“Stay down,” he said.
That isn’t going to be a problem.
“Milo.” He peered around the pillar. “What the fuck is happening?”
The gunfire had stopped, but a sharp pain in my side made me double over.
“Milo,” Marchello said. “What do you see?”
Milo responded, but I couldn’t focus on what he said. Wetness seeped through my dress. I glanced down.
An oozing red blotch spread through the material, staining the light blue dress.
That’s going to be a bitch to get out.
My hand shook as I pressed it against my side. Burning radiated over my skin as I let out a long breath. My body trembled despite the warm Florida air.
“Marchello?”
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He turned from surveying the situation and gave me a reassuring smile. “We’re okay.”
I wanted to believe that. His beautiful eyes were so convincing.
“Um, I think…”
He gazed at my bloodstained dress and moved my hand from my hip. The horror in his expression frightened me.
“Lissia. You were hit?” The color drained from his face, and everything changed in an instant.
We weren’t promised tomorrow. How could we be? Not in the shadows of risk and despair we lived in. Not with the people we were associated with.
We are doomed.
“Milo!” Marchello shouted as I closed my eyes and slumped forward.