Chapter 1 – Sienna #3
“So are at least three others I’ve spotted. No wonder the chef is freaking out.” Rebecca tips her head at an older man leaning against the bar, and two big guys, who look like club bouncers, hanging out near the entrance.
We look at each other, eyes wide. This is definitely not our usual clientele.
Her voice wavers, a hint of nerves kicking in. “So, I’m thinking it’s not yacht money we’re dealing with anymore.”
Looking around, I really take in the people in the room, not just as wealthy patrons keeping me from my bed, but individually. And as I take in the tattoos, the weapons, and the obscene wealth, it finally dawns on me.
I know exactly who and what they are because I’ve dealt with them before. That’s why I’m so on edge.
“What then?” I ask, needing to hear someone else say it first, so I don’t sound crazy.
“Something worse.” She swallows, eyes darting around to make sure nobody is listening before she speaks, her words coming out more as a panicked hiss. “Godfather money.”
Now that it’s in my head, I can’t unsee it.
Dotted throughout the room, among the more normal, happy partygoers, are different, far more dangerous types of men. The strategic positioning near exits, the constant movement of eyes, and the rigid sets of shoulders gives them away.
These aren’t relaxed guests enjoying a night out with friends, congratulating them on finding love. They’re guards. Enforcers.
Or should I say, Picciotti.
Security. Soldiers. Here to keep a close eye on everyone in attendance. Because these aren’t your average wealthy customers.
“It doesn’t matter who they are,” I say, trying to sound calmer than I feel. “It’s just a party. We do our jobs and get through the night.”
“Oh my god, I didn’t actually think I was right until just now.
” Rebecca squeezes my arm absently, her fingers trembling.
When I scowl at her, she straightens, pushing her shoulders back.
“You’re right, okay. Yes. It doesn’t matter,” she repeats.
“We’re just servers. And if the groom is our new boss, there won’t be any trouble.
Not in his restaurant. These are his friends. Right? Just friends with guns.”
Convincing herself it’s no big deal, that she doesn’t need to be afraid of the kind of men who bring weapons to an engagement party, she plasters a bright smile on her face and heads back to her section, sashaying through the crowd.
Only the way she fiddles with her hair tells me she’s not perfectly at ease.
After she leaves, I stand frozen for a moment, my heart beating too fast, transported back to a time in my life I’d rather forget. I grip the bar beside me, let my eyelids fall closed, and breathe in and out slowly, regaining my composure.
Just breathe.
I’m so focused on pulling myself together that I barely notice the string quartet begin to play near the entrance, or how the conversations hush right before the door opens, or even the swell of applause as the guests of honor arrive.
Someone hurries past me, heading for the rear exit, and bumps my shoulder hard.
I stumble, eyes flying open, and grab onto his arm to steady myself. But even as he catches me and pauses to apologize, I can’t seem to focus as pale blue eyes swim in front of me when I fail to release his arm immediately.
“You okay?” I think he asks, but I can’t seem to hear the words he’s saying.
“I’m fine,” I mumble, waving him off, blinking once, twice, three times, trying to clear my head before anyone notices the state I’m in.
Get it together, Sienna.
Then, through the haze of repressed memories, a deep voice, one that haunts my dreams, reaches my ear like a smooth caress.
A voice I would recognize anywhere.
Slowly, barely able to believe this could be happening, I raise my head and stare at the crowd of well-wishers near the entrance until they finally part, revealing who I knew I would see as my world tilts.
Luca Calvano.
Taller and broader than I remember, he stands there, those model perfect features having morphed from classically handsome to dark, smoldering and even more alluring.
His strong jaw is sharper now, muscular shoulders even wider, and his presence fills the doorway, sucking the air out of the room and making everyone else fade to nothing.
Rich brown hair still curls slightly at the ends, a little longer now than I recall, as it sits against his collar. It’s shiny and thick, and my fingers twitch, remembering how it felt between them, but that’s the only soft thing about him now.
Luca scans the room, looking unperturbed by the fussing crowd around him and the men jostling to get close and shake his hand. He’s nodding in greeting at someone across the room when his gaze sweeps past me.
Then stops dead.
I gasp as those mesmerizing, chocolate brown eyes lock onto mine, and his entire body goes rigid. The polite smile on his chiseled features freezes, then falls away entirely, full lips pressing into a harsh line.
It’s really him. The guy who vanished and left me picking up the pieces of my life for years afterward.
A man I’m still technically engaged to.
Standing arm in arm with the woman he’s about to marry.