CHAPTER ONE
Paolo
I was sitting in Salt, one of the Salazar twins’ trendy restaurants, waiting for my father.
He was late, and I wanted to leave. Nobody left my father, though.
Nobody. Least of all his oldest son. I rubbed my temples.
It had been a long, hard day of surgery at work, and this was the last place I wanted to be.
“Why couldn’t I have been born second?” I muttered to myself. Then I think he would have just let me become a surgeon and left me pretty much alone.
“What’s that, sir? Are you ready to order or are you still waiting for your guest to arrive?”
I looked at the server. She was gorgeous.
All the people working for the Salazars were, so that wasn’t a surprise.
Still, she was extra beautiful, and I couldn’t help thinking it had been a while since I’d had sex.
I tried not to stare at her body like some sort of perv.
I needed to get to Cayenne tonight. It was the Salazar’s luxurious but scandalous members-only sex club.
I was past due for a night of hot, no-strings sex.
I realized she was still waiting for an answer. “Sorry. Yes, I’m still waiting. Could you possibly bring me a glass of whiskey?”
She didn’t even bat an eyelash at the rather obvious way I’d been checking her out. She was probably used to it. “Certainly, sir. Would you also like an appetizer? Mr. Salazar saw you over here and comped your meal.”
I turned to see whether it was Leo or Joaquin.
The twins were the restauranteurs of the Salazar family.
I met Joaquin’s eye and gave him a chin nod of appreciation.
I was sure he knew my dad would be meeting me soon.
That’s probably why he comped the meal. Leo almost always comped my meal, but it was rare for Joaquin to do the same.
I knew my father would like the calamari, so I put in an order for that.
My father, Dominico Lanetti, was the head of the Lanetti crime family in West Bay, Georgia.
As far as crime families in South Georgia went, we were second only to the Salazars.
Most crime families did not get along. That wasn’t the case with my family and the Salazars.
First off, the Salazars didn’t want to be known as a ‘crime family’ per se.
They preferred for the people of Georgia to think of them as legitimate businesspeople.
My family took a page from their book and decided to try for the same.
The second thing that made their friendship palatable was that we each stayed in our lane. The Lanettis were in charge of imports and exports in the area and ruled the ports. The Salazars? They ruled everything else.
My parents, originally from Italy, had moved to West Bay after I’d become great friends with Nico Salazar in boarding school. The two families had met during a parent weekend, hit it off, and Carlos Salazar talked my dad into settling here.
I was lucky to have escaped the family business by being inept in a couple of areas where my brothers and I were expected to excel.
Personal communication was one. I took things very literally, and the subtleties often associated with criminal business discussions went right over my head.
And then there was the whole ‘taking a life’ thing.
I sucked at that. The only time my father had ordered me to kill someone had been a disaster.
I’d approached the person from behind, held the gun out, my hand shaking with nerves, and then I blacked out.
That’s all I remembered. Later, I found out I’d had a panic attack, vomited all over the guy I was supposed to kill, and fainted.
My brothers apparently kept the security tapes of the incident and still played it when they needed a laugh.
After that, my father had been happy to release me to boarding school, where I’d made lots of friends, and I’d shot right to the top of my class.
School was a breeze for me, and I eventually sailed through medical school, my surgical practicums, and everything else.
Dad had even been proud of me, which was a miracle considering how things had gone down for me prior to becoming a practicing surgeon.
Boarding school had been great. I’d become fast friends with Nico, Byron, and Reynolds, who was West Bay’s mayor. We’d grown up together, figured out the opposite sex together, and made pacts to stay friends forever. Because of that I had decided to settle in West Bay as well.
It was a no-brainer. They’d needed qualified surgeons here, my friends were here, and my family had settled here. Still, it was rare that my father requested to speak with me one on one.
But he had today. I knew he’d stopped off to talk to Carlos and Enzo Salazar on the way here. I was aware they had business dealings together, but I chose to ignore it as best I could. I’d found that burying my head in the sand when it came to anything related to ‘the business’ was my best bet.
There was a commotion behind me, and I knew Dad had arrived.
I stood and turned to face him, a sign of respect in my family.
He was a large man. He wasn’t quite as tall as I was, but he weighed a good bit more.
It used to be all muscle, but as he aged, it was slowly turning to fat.
He was still a handsome man at this point, and I assumed the insanely hot woman on his arm was his latest mistress.
Mama turned a blind eye to his many assignations, and they managed to live mostly separate lives.
Dad lived in the old money portion of West Bay in an antebellum mansion on a fifty-acre estate.
Mama preferred their mansion in the new money Estates at South neighborhood which was just a few miles from downtown West Bay and only a couple of miles from West Bay University.
They rarely, if ever, went home to the family villa in Foggia.
“Dad,” I said in greeting as he grabbed my face and planted a kiss on each cheek. “Always good to see you,” I lied.
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Don’t lie son. You don’t do it well.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“You remember Gia Santoro, don’t you son?”
My mouth opened but no sound came out. This exquisite creature in front of me could not be Gia Santoro.
She was tall and slender. Her silky designer dress showcased her large breasts, stellar ass, and small waist. Her blonde hair was long and shiny, and her big brown eyes were bright with intelligence.
Her skin was smooth and golden, and her lips were a perfect Cupid’s bow. They were also bright red.
I tried not to, but I was struggling not to picture them wrapped around my cock.
“Of course. Hello, Gia. How are you?” It was the best sentence I could string together in the face of so much beauty. I was normally smooth with women, but she had taken me by surprise.
Dad and the woman both laughed. “No, son, this is not Gia Santoro. This is my… secretary, Valeria.
“Nice to meet you,” she said with a smile.
I cringed inside, regretting that I’d pictured her in sexual positions when she was obviously fucking my father. That made me feel all kinds of dirty… and gross.
Of course she wasn’t Gia Santoro. Gia Santoro used to follow me around everywhere back home in Foggia before I’d gone to boarding school and the rest of my family had moved to America.
She’d been nerdy, skinny, and wore glasses and braces.
Her hair had been brown, wildly curly and kind of frizzy, floating all around her head.
She’d also told every girl in the neighborhood school that she was going to marry me.
I had not liked Gia Santoro at all. Why the hell was my dad bringing her up? A feeling of trepidation came over me.
Once we’d ordered, Dad turned to me and said, “Paolo, Geno Santoro and I want a family alliance. We want you and Gia to get married.” He leaned in closer.
“And the business needs the alliance. If you don’t marry her, you’ll be letting your entire family down.
The business could go under without the Santoro contract. ”
My eyes got wide, but I saw that Valeria didn’t look surprised at all. I wondered how close she’d gotten to my dad. I hoped like hell he wasn’t about to divorce Mama and that Valeria would become my new stepmother.
“Jesus, Dad. I thought the business was doing great. I just talked to Raphael the other day and he was so pleased with everything.” Raphael, or Raphe, was the next oldest Lanetti brother after me.
He was an excellent businessman, a ruthless killer, and, strangely, a chronic worrier.
Seriously, he worried more about the family members than my late grandmother or my mama ever had.
“Raphe. He lied.”
I blinked at my father, waiting for him to say more. He didn’t. The knot in my stomach got larger. “Do the Santoros still live in Foggia?”
Dad nodded. “Off and on. What does that matter? Gia’s going to be visiting the states for a while and plans on staying with your mother while she’s here. I expect you to show her around town.”
Pretty sure that was code for marry her and get her knocked up.
“I’ll leave you two to talk about this for a bit while I visit the facilities,” Valeria said.
When Valeria stood to go to the restroom, Dad and I both stood as well.
I’d been raised as a gentleman, after all.
As soon as she was gone, however, I crashed down into my chair.
“What the hell? I’m not the son you want to create an alliance with.
Surely, everyone in Foggia knows that. I have five brothers, and they’re all in the family business.
Why wouldn’t Geno want Gia married to one of them? ”
My father looked at me, quiet. “Are you finished?”
I sat back in my chair, nonplussed. “I guess so.”
“Geno thinks you’re the smartest of my sons, and he wants brilliant, beautiful grandkids.”
I shook my head. “From what I remember of Gia, he might want to re-think that.” She’d been smart, but she sure as hell hadn’t been beautiful.
He leaned forward. “She doesn’t look like she used to, son. She’s a hot piece of ass now.”
‘Hot piece of ass’ was my dad’s highest compliment to women.
I was pretty sure most women wouldn’t love to be described in that way, but no one ever tried to correct my father.
I craned my head around, hoping Valeria hadn’t come back and heard him talking about another woman like that.
She hadn’t. “My God. If she’s truly good-looking now, which I doubt, she’d be worth a few nights of fucking.
But marrying her?” I pulled at my collar.
“That… that doesn’t really interest me.”
He stared at me, and I could see his brain working in his intelligent, dark brown eyes. “You’re almost in your mid-thirties.”
I waited, convinced he would have more reasons as to why I should get married than just my age. The silence grew between us. “That’s it? I’m close to my mid-thirties so I should get married to some girl I haven’t seen in twenty-five years?”
He sucked his teeth, looking very displeased.
“You listen to me, Paolo. I’m planning to increase my community presence.
I’m going to start attending more charity events and galas with your Mama.
I expect you to have dates to those functions.
No more showing up alone, dancing with a few women, and taking one home to fuck all night.
” He pointed at me and gave me ‘dad eyes’ so I knew he meant business.
“I’m talking about proper women as your dates. No floozies.”
“Pretty sure the only people who’ve ever said ‘floozies’ are gangsters from the 1920s and seventy-five-year-old church ladies.”
He waved an impatient hand at me. “I’m fucking serious, Paolo.”
Well. I didn’t like the sound of this at all. “Does Mama know you’re planning on going to all those galas and benefits with her?”
He huffed out a breath, which was Dad’s way of saying no without really saying it.
“That’s what I thought. I don’t know how excited she’s going to be to have to go with you to all those society functions.”
“The feeling will be mutual,” he murmured, picking up his glass of whiskey and taking a long drink.
“You don’t want to marry Gia Santoro? Fine.
Maybe I’ll save her for one of your brothers.
But you will at least make progress towards settling down.
I’d like you to marry an Italian woman, but if that’s not possible, then she at least has to be of your status and class. ”
I had to force myself to stay through the rest of dinner, and I wasn’t able to eat much. I couldn’t wait for Dad and Valeria to leave so I could go hang out with Nico at Cayenne, the sex club he owned with his sister Carmen.
I said goodbye to Valeria, trying not to imagine what her large breasts would feel like in my hands.
“It was so nice to meet you,” she said, her hand brushing against my dick.
I had to hold back a groan as she started running her hand up and down my cock through my pants.
“I’m very good at lots of things,” she grinned, whispering in my ear.
“I understand,” I said, stepping back with effort and hoping my suit jacket hid my hard-on from view. She might be gorgeous and interested in fucking me, but that sure as hell wasn’t worth pissing my dad off over.
I gave my father a quick hug and excused myself as soon as possible. I saw the look of disappointment on his face, and it left me with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I hated letting him down. I didn’t hate it enough that I would marry someone just to keep him happy, though.
As I walked to Cayenne, which was only a few doors down from Salt, I thought about four things.
One, I was glad I’d gone home to change into a suit before meeting my father at the restaurant.
The dress code at all the Salazar clubs required a suit.
Not just any suit, either. It had to be a top-of-the-line bespoke suit.
Anyone who thought men didn’t care about style or judge each other based on how much their suits cost was crazy.
Men were every bit as bad as women at that.
Two, how in the world was I a successful man in my thirties and still so worried about pleasing my father?
Maybe it was the crime family thing, or maybe it would have happened anyway.
Three, I was going to have to talk to Raphael about the family business to see how bad things were.
This sucked, because Raphe was the hardest man in the world to get in touch with. At least it felt that way.
Four? I needed to get laid desperately.