Chapter 8
LUCA
I’m bored out of my mind, idly talking to models and other wiseguys, sipping my Scotch and wondering why the hell I decided to do this.
I could have just let Nico do it, watch him fail. Maybe Father would actually see what kind of man he is, then. Maybe Nico would learn. But instead I’m playing the part of big brother, like always.
I huff out a breath. And Nico isn’t even here. I lift my gaze and freeze mid-sip of my Scotch.
Blue eyes. Baby blue eyes, wide and doe-like, staring at me. But then she looks away. Her hair is different. Blonde where it used to be dark. Short where it used to be long. And she’s gained a few pounds, mostly in her ass and hips and thighs—exactly where it belongs, in my opinion.
Sophia.
It isn’t her, my mind reminds me. It’s never her.
I move through the crowd, leaving the model I’m talking to in mid-sentence. I can’t seem to care. What if it is her? What if she’s finally here?
I find Oscar on the dance floor. I’d asked him to man the door just until Nico arrived, not wanting some bouncer to let in one of Nico’s idiot friends. I gave him the names of who to look out for.
“You’re not manning the door,” I say flatly, and Oscar blinks.
“I’m taking a break.”
It’s not like I can do anything. Oscar isn’t one of my men. He’s a friend, but he runs his own empire. I have no real power over him.
“Who did you just let in?” I ask, and Oscar tilts his head.
“Not any of Nico’s friends.”
“That’s not what I asked.” My voice is strained and there’s an edge of warning to it. Oscar’s blue eyes flash.
“Don’t treat me like one of your men just because I did you a favor, Rossi.”
I grit my teeth. I don’t have a hair trigger like Nico, but I feel like it.
I need to find her.
“Please. It’s important.”
“Her name was Angela. Ricardo, I think she said her last name was. She’s just a model.” He shrugs.
Angela? Have I lost my damn mind? Am I drunk? I look down at the glass in my hand and realize it’s just my second.
It’s a fake name. It has to be. But I only saw her for a split second…
“Where did she go?” Oscar doesn’t answer and I grab his arm. “Oscar. Where did she go?”
“Jesus, you’ve really got a hard-on for this girl. She ditched me on the dance floor, alright?” Oscar says, wrenching away from me. “Don’t know where she went.”
I nod, moving toward the bathroom to find Sophia. I know it’s her. I only saw her for a moment but I know it.
I feel it, somewhere in my bones, and I couldn’t explain that to anyone, but it doesn’t matter. I saw her.
She’s here.
I try not to think about how Oscar probably hit on her and shove my way through the crowd. The bathroom hallway is less crowded, just a couple girls in line and…
Sophia. I want to call out her name, but something stops me. That gold dress she’s wearing leaves little to the imagination and I think about how her ass would jiggle if I slapped it, how she’d look with her ass up, on all fours, showing me everything.
I can’t stop myself, can’t really think. I only react, which isn’t normal for me.
She’s already leaning against the wall, so I pin her there, my palms on either side of her head, bracing myself against the brick.
She looks up at me with wide, frightened blue eyes.
“You changed your hair,” is all I can manage to say as I move one hand to move her bangs out of her face.
She shivers but doesn’t move away.
“Get away from me.” It’s weak and small. “I don’t know who you are.”
“Bullshit,” I curse, leaning closer to her. “You know exactly who I am. And I know who you are.”
“You don’t,” she whispers. “Not anymore.”
I lean down further, so close I could lean just slightly down and brush my lips across hers.
“And who’s fault is that?”
She lets out a long breath. “I’m not that person anymore.”
“So what? You’re Angela?” I scoff. “You got your hair cut and you think that makes you someone else?”
She doesn’t respond. I keep staring at her, my mind racing. What is she doing here? Is she undercover? Dating another mobster?
I nearly growl at the thought. I’d rather her be undercover than the latter.
“Who are you here for?” I demand to know, my voice loud even over the music.
She winces. “I’m not here for anyone.”
“Are you working?”
Her eyes shoot to mine.
“Of course not. I don’t do that anymore.”
“Bullshit,” I say again, glaring at her. “Or what? You’re fucking one of them? Which one? It isn’t Oscar.”
“How do you know?” she shoots back, finally showing a bit of fire, and I can’t help the smirk that passes over my lips.
“Because you wouldn’t fucking dare.”
“I haven’t seen you in three years, Luca.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
It doesn’t. It doesn’t matter because she was mine the moment I laid eyes on her in that precinct. I don’t know why she’s here now, but I’m going to fucking find out.
“Then why do you keep asking me who I’m fucking?”
“Because if you’re fucking one of them, I’ll kill him,” I say, and I mean it. I don’t kill without reason, not ever, but this is plenty enough a reason for me.
She rolls her eyes. “Territorial.”
“Damn straight,” I answer, and the fact that she won’t look at me drives me crazy. I take her chin in my hand, squeeze her jaw so that her mouth pops open. “What the fuck are you doing here, pixie?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“You didn’t mind it when I was nine inches deep, did you?”
“Nine inches? Don’t flatter yourself,” she scoffs, and I chuckle darkly.
“I’ll remind you,” I murmur, close to her ear. “Angela? Is that what you want to be called now?”
“I told you, I’m a different person.”
“How so?” I ask. “How did you go from being the law to being dressed like that in a place like this?”
She looks away, turning her eyes as I still have her chin in my hand.
“My partner got killed. I quit, okay? You happy?”
I let go of her chin, dropping my hands by my sides, shocked.
“I…I’m sorry.”
She shrugs. “It is what it is. He’s dead and I’m…coping.”
“Coping by going to mob hangouts?” I ask incredulously. My blood is starting to boil. Because if she’s not here for work, she really is here for someone, and I’m going to find out who it is if it kills us both.
“I have to go,” she whispers and tries to move away.
I block her, caging her in with my arms again.
“You’re not going anywhere, pixie.”
She looks up at me with wide eyes and promptly knees me in the balls.
I double over, gasping. The pain runs up to my stomach, but I try to keep sight of her as she slips through the crowd in that gold dress.
I try to straighten up and the pain makes me nauseous, the Scotch I’ve had rolling in my stomach. She really got me good.
I pant, trying to relieve the nausea, and I see her slip toward the back door.
I turn, finally able to straighten up, then a hand falls on my shoulder.
I whirl around, ready to bark at whoever is trying to stop me.
Oscar glares at me, his blue eyes flashing with anger.
“Your asshole brother just stumbled in, if you’re curious. I’m not watching the fucking door anymore.”
“If he’s here you don’t have to watch the door,” I seethe through gritted teeth. I like Oscar well enough, but he’s really pissing me off right now. I need to get to Sophia, need to get her to admit there was something between us that night and that there still is.
“I’m not your fucking lackey, Rossi.” His chest puffs up, his shoulders drawn back like he’s ready for a fight.
I don’t have time for this.
“Oscar, we’ll talk about this later. I’m busy.”
Oscar blinks at me. “Busy? Busy doing what? You’ve been at the bar all night while I’ve been stuck being a goddamn bouncer. I don’t know why I ever agreed to it in the first place. You Rossis are...”
He trails off.
My eyes narrow and I take a couple of steps forward. “We Rossis are what, Oscar?”
My voice is calm, quiet.
Oscar clenches his jaw, not backing down.
Fuck. I’m going to have to fight him. Right here in the warehouse, in front of everyone. People will see dissent among the big three families and…
Well, it’ll be a mess.
I take in a deep breath. I can’t act like Nico right now. I can’t do this and find Sophia.
I put my hand on Oscar’s shoulder and he startles.
“Look, man, I’m sorry,” I say quietly, under the music, not wanting anyone to hear.
Bosses don’t say they’re sorry.
Oscar stares at me like I’ve suddenly grown a second head.
“You know how it is with Nico. He’s…”
“An asshole?”
I bark out a surprised laugh at Oscar’s words.
“Yeah. I was going to say ‘struggling’ but…you’re right. Nico has his issues. But he’s my brother, and I’ll deal with him. Okay?”
Oscar’s shoulders relax and I realize he’s not going to hit me. Thank Christ.
I don’t have time for an all-out mob war.
“Alright,” he says finally.
I nod and he nods back, and that’s all there is to it.
I know Oscar, and he’ll be over it soon. He doesn’t hold a grudge.
I search the crowd desperately, eyes everywhere, and finally catch sight of gold slipping through people.
I need to find her. I need to know why she’s here. Because if she’s here for someone else, I’m going to commit murder, and if she’s here undercover…
Well, I don’t know what I’ll do if she’s here undercover.
I could call out her name, but if she is undercover and I blow her cover, she could be in danger. The idea of her being in peril makes my throat feel tight.
I move through the crowd, all but shoving people out of the way, and she’s sliding through the back door before I can catch up.
Doesn’t matter. I’ll find her.
She’s not getting away from me.
Not again.