DANTE

“So,” I purred. “How does it taste?”

Georgia Mancini sniffed, shook the wine glass, and drank from it. She made a clicking sound with her tongue that nearly made me want to roll my eyes.

“Hmm, blackberry, a bit of grape.” Georgia mused. “That’s six grand over my usual rate. Tell me Spinelli, why should I keep doing business with you?”

I smirked, scanning the guests in the hall at her open house. “Times have changed; my suppliers enjoyed dealing with my father. It's not the same treatment for me.”

Georgia shook her head. “Could it be that Giovanni had better charm? He could tell me to jump off a bridge, and I'd happily do it.”

I glared at her. “Would you?”

She nodded. “If the bridge was on fire and he knew it would save my life, yes.”

Ridiculous.

“Georgia, you should know luxury comes at a high price.” I said.

Her eyes flashed. “Just because I can afford it doesn't mean I should. Maybe you need to be a little friendlier...” She drew a finger down my chest and paused barely above my groin. “A smile might convince me not to take my business elsewhere.”

I smiled, not willingly, but because of the gold band on Georgia's finger, and glanced over at her husband in the middle of a chat with friends.

What a sucker! I thought.

“Anyway,” Georgia winked, walking away as she called. “Enjoy the show.”

A strange pang of guilt hung in my throat for a moment, then the lights dimmed. Sensual music filled the air as curtains parted; four masked women began to dance in rhythm as everyone applauded.

“It's the Vixens!” Someone called.

“So beautiful!” Another said.

I ignored the rest and looked at Sierra. The way her curves moved beneath her outfit and how our eyes instantly connected, heat rose in my crotch. She must have noticed me in the crowd because she winked.

An idiot next to me catcalled her. “Hey, Serena, take your bra off!”

I grabbed his shirt; his eyes widened in horror as I glared at him. “What was that?!” I growled.

The idiot suddenly smiled. “Hey, relax, buddy, she isn’t going to let either of us screw her.”

“How about I break your...” I paused, noticing people were looking at us.

Disgust filled my stomach; I let him go, and I stalked away from there.

What's wrong with me?

No, if I had to have a woman, no man would ever do that to her. I could get a date anytime I wanted, so why did she get under my skin like this?

I sat at the bar drinking alone until the dance was over. Then I felt someone come up behind me. Flinching, I reached for the gun inside my jacket.

“You're upset tonight.” Sierra whispered into my ear.

Exhaling hard, I turned to see her slide on a stool next to me.

“You know I almost—” I stopped. No use announcing I had a weapon.

Sierra lifted a brow, waiting for me to continue. “What?”

“Nothing.” I went back to my drink.

“I saw you and that guy,” Sierra purred seductively. “Was he bothering you? Want me to tell the owners? I know them personally.”

I smirked; if that guy knew I was a Spinelli, he would have shit his pants. Relaxing a bit, I said. “No one bothers me, Tippy.”

“It's getting hot in here.” She said, “Would you like to go for a walk under the moonlight?”

I scoffed at that. “No. Buzz off.”

She appeared disappointed and got off her stool. “Okay, then.”

That's when I noticed the moron from before was following her.

* * * * * * * *

SIERRA

The stupid phone had been a decoy; when it was unlocked, it had no contacts, no outgoing calls, and nothing else except a music playlist. It was practically new.

I felt humiliated as the other agents laughed at me boasting about stealing the main thing on my first try.

As I headed for the exit, I heard someone walk up next to me. He reached for the door before I could. I swung my head to see Dante glaring at me.

“Fine, we'll take that walk.” He said, swinging the door open.

I nodded, walking outside with a smirk.

We walked in silence for a minute; he wouldn't speak to me. In fact, he looked as if someone was following us.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

He turned to me in anger. “Of course there isn't; didn't you want the stupid walk anyway?”

Annoyance rushed deep in my skin, and I planted my fists against my hips. “No one forced you to, so stop acting like a baby!”

He rolled his eyes, shook his head, and muttered under his breath. “Fucking women.”

“You know I can hear you.” I replied.

“So what?” He spat. “We can do this the easy way, Sierra; invite me back to your place and get it over with.”

I scoffed, but I blushed from thinking about going to bed together. Thank God, it was so dark, he wouldn't see my face. “I don't think so.”

“Is this what you wanted all along?” Dante snapped. “You want me to beg?”

“You really think you're irresistible, don't you, Dante?” I sighed. “You must have gone out with women who had the IQ of a fish.”

He chuckled.

I frowned. “What's so funny?”

“Like you're any better.” He replied smoothly. “Serena.”

I held my fists tightly. Oh, he was so infuriating.

I reached into my purse. “Hey, I found this at the club the other night.”

“Huh?”

“Your phone?”

“Oh, right.”

He snatched it, quickly shoving it into his pocket. “Thanks.”

I stared at him, puzzled by his response. “You weren't worried at all?”

“No, I thought if the idiot tried to sell it on the streets, my guys would jump him.” Dante said casually.

I nodded.

“And kill him,” he added. “My personal items are very valuable.”

I nodded, but only because I was frightened. “That's very extreme over an iPhone.”

“No.” He shook his head, leaning forward. “This is extreme.”

Before I could ask what he meant, he grabbed me and crushed his mouth to mine. I gasped, pounding my fists into his chest, trying to push him away.

But then, curiosity won, I wrapped my arms around his neck. I kissed him back, deeper, tasting…until my breath was taken away.

Then a sharp voice that belonged to Howard cut through the air.

“Sierra, what the fuck!”

DANTE

“Let go!” Sierra whispered against my lips; my fingers dug into her hips. I nipped her lower lip.

“No,” I replied stubbornly; the rush of desire was too hard to resist until Sierra was pulled away from my arms.

“Break it up, you two!” Howard barked at us.

I tried to catch my breath, then a fist came flying at my face; I sidestepped easily. The idiot stumbled like a clumsy drunk, while I shoved my hands deep into my pockets, watching him.

Moron.

“Howie!” Sierra cried in alarm, reaching to hold him upright.

Howard glared at me as if in disbelief. “Oh, my God in Heaven. If you touch her again, I'll...”

“Or what, Monroe?” I asked, stepping forward in challenge.

Howard quickly jumped back in retreat. “Nothing, I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you, Don Spinelli,” he muttered.

I nodded with an air of authority. “That's what I thought.”

Upon turning to Sierra, Howard's fingers gripped her face. “Are you okay, sis?”

She nodded. “Yes, I'm fine.”

Howard dragged his sister out of there, muttering. “Then, you're so dead.”

The whole thing was amusing, but it quickly washed away when flashes of red and blue lights reflected on my car when my driver was on the road.

A frown passed through my lips as I looked behind us.

“Boston PD!” the voice blared through the speakerphone. “Pull over.”

In two minutes, an officer slammed me hard against the hood of my car; handcuffs gripped my wrists tightly.

“...you have the right to remain silent,” the officer said.

I growled. “What the hell is this?”

At the police department, a male detective sat before me, thinking he was hot shit.

“We're holding you on multiple counts of physical assault on victim Gerald Locke,” the detective explained.

Silence passed before I broke into a laugh.

“Oh, he's serious.” I thought.

The detective leaned forward with all seriousness. “You broke four of his ribs and shot his leg; that's a year in jail for you, buddy, and if you value your precious freedom, I suggest you start talking.”

I drew a heavy sigh. “My attorney's not here. I need to make a call.”

“...Sorry, I'm not available at the moment,” the voicemail echoed in my ears. “Please leave a message.”

My heart raced, looking back to see the policeman watching me.

Fuck.

Why did Frankie choose this week to go on a vacation?

I left a message, and the policeman literally tossed me into a cell that smelled like piss, with three other guys inside.

This cannot be happening.

I sank into a bench, breathing hard to hold back the rage building inside of me, and I didn't realize one of the men had sat next to me.

“Hey pretty boy,” he sneered, reaching to touch my hair. I grabbed his fingers and twisted so hard a bone snapped; he fell to the floor, twisting in pain and swearing at me.

It was going to be a long night.

* * * * * * * *

SIERRA

“Sierra, I promise, you can date any guy you want,” Howard snapped at me. “But not a freaking Mafia boss!”

We stood outside my apartment block.

I glared at him. “For the last time, we're not dating!”

“Really?” Howard asked with sarcasm. “Because you two seemed to be having a blast, making out like a pair of teenagers!”

Heat crept into my cheek, but I folded my arms and held my ground.

Howard studied my face. “Is he making you do stuff to him at the club? Because I'm going to murder him.”

I shot him a dry look. “Of course not, and you couldn't even protect me if you could. You're the reason I'm stuck in heels and glitter, instead of ballet slippers, night after night!”

Howard rolled his eyes. “It's kept us alive, right? Listen carefully, stay away from Dante, you understand?”

Someone rang my doorbell as early as six; groaning, I climbed off my bed and moved into the living room.

I unlocked the door; on the other side was a familiar face. I'd seen him hanging around Dante. My legs began to tremble.

“Yes?” I said.

“I need you to come with me.”

I made a sound of disbelief. “I don't think so.”

As I started to shut the door, he caught it with his foot.

“It's important.” He pushed himself into the apartment. I stumbled back.

“You better leave, or I'm calling the police!” I warned him.

He didn't flinch. “Don Spinelli wants a favor from you,” he said firmly. “And you're going to do it.”

I waited as he told me about the situation.

I struggled not to laugh; I mean, this was exactly what I wanted.

“You're out of your mind,” I shot back. “I'm not bailing him out of jail!”

Then he mentioned something about breaking Howard's legs.

I froze.

“Alright.” I grabbed my phone off the couch; my heart raced. “Just give me five minutes... to change.”

He nodded, and I hurried into my room and dialed Seth's number.

“Send a SWAT team,” I pleaded. “If you don't get here soon, this guy's going to kill me!”

“Relax, let me think.” Seth said calmly.

I kept looking at the door, hoping he wouldn't break in.

“Wait, this could be good, Sierra.” Seth spoke. “Bail him out.”

“Isn't the goal to put Dante in jail?” I asked.

“Trust me, he'll get off easily.” Seth replied. “I just received word that his lawyer's out of town.”

“So, why ask me to do it?”

Seth let out a long breath.

“You really want me to spell it out?”

I didn't answer.

“It's because he won't say no to you, Sierra. Use that.”

Twenty minutes later, the man drove me to the police department.

Heads turned the moment I said why I was there. A woman bailing out a Mafia boss wasn't something they saw every day.

“What's your relationship with the suspect?” The detective asked me.

I kept a neutral expression as I filled out the form. “I wasn't aware that was required for bail, or are you just nosy?”

Then I heard the detective quietly say to his partner. “...Probably part of his string of lovers.”

I glared at him; just then an officer led Dante out in handcuffs. He looked exhausted but said nothing, his pride far too loud for a simple thank you.

Outside the station, he adjusted his wrinkled jacket, like nothing about sleeping in jail humiliated him. “I'll refund the bail. Maybe I'll throw in an extra tip for your Friday night performance.”

I didn't stop to think.

My palm cracked across his face before I could stop myself.

DANTE

I could have easily dodged the slap; I just stood there while the side of my face stung. I glared hard at Sierra.

A long time ago, I would have hit a girl for doing that and taking delight in it.

But it wasn't me anymore.

Besides, it wasn't smart to commit assault in front of a police department.

Sierra flinched, her fingers covered her lips as her eyes grew wide. "Omigod, I'm so sorry!"

I blinked, letting the rage simmer down, and flicked my fingers at Marco the driver—a silent signal not to intervene. 

"Don't tell Santini!" Sierra added.

I rolled my eyes. Of course, that's why she apologized.

Sierra straightened. "I mean, a little 'thank you' would have been nice."

Tilting my head to the side, I said. "You know what? You kind of remind me of an aunt—slapping me around while preaching about'courtesy'.”

Sierra scoffed, eyeing me. "You wish I were your aunt."

Without saying another word, I walked towards the car; Marco already held a door open for me.

"Wait, Dante," Sierra came up next to me. "How do you feel about breakfast?"

I shot her a look. "Doesn't Santini feed you glitter fairies?"

Sierra bristled. "I was just going to buy you breakfast, but never mind."

Then she started to walk away.

Turning to Marco, I let out a bitter chuckle. "Can you believe this chick? She wants to buy me freaking breakfast. Do I look that terrible?"

Marco's lips simply parted, but he couldn't say anything.

Yeah, I wasn't expecting him to compliment me either.

I shook my head. I could go for a damn coffee anyway.

"Yo, Sierra!" I called.

She turned to look at me.

Ten minutes later, we sat at a diner. I had a black beanie hat pulled low over my head.

A waitress slid plates of eggs, bacon, waffles, toast, and hot coffee onto the table.

Sierra looked up from her phone. "So, Gerald Locke's dad owns the biggest private capital firm in the city."

Diving into my food hungrily, I glanced up at her. "Yeah? So?"

"So, why'd you shoot him?"

I shrugged. Why was she interested anyway? I scanned the diner; there was only one other customer.

"Hey, he pulled a gun on me; I shot first. That's how self-defense works, sweetheart."

"That's not what really happened."

I narrowed my eyes. "Did those cops tell you that?"

Sierra leaned back in her seat, her eyes shifted, and she shook her head. "Hmm, no, I just read it...online?"

I didn't buy it, but I'll let it pass. For now. "You shouldn't believe what the media says about me; my business is my own."

"Well, you're a person of interest, Don," Sierra said, lowering her tone. "Like a news magnet, and only twenty-six? That's kind of impressive."

I looked up from my coffee. I was hungrier than I thought; I barely had more than a canapé last night.

"I must be losing my hearing, but did you just compliment me?"

"I just say what's realistic."

"Well, word of advice, and I'm serious, keep your 'realistic' opinion to yourself. And you don't breathe a word about the bail—especially not when you're yapping with your girlfriends.  Capisce?"

Sierra chomped into her bacon. "Once again, Dante, your sexism is loud and clear."

My lips tugged in the corner. "And it's also sexist to say using expensive men's hair gel is bad."

I don't know why I enjoyed watching her flare up; her face turned pink with embarrassment.

"I didn't write that note, and you really need to return it."

Ignoring that. I wiped my lips clean and signaled the waitress. "I'm stuffed."

I started to reach for my wallet, but Sierra held up a hand to stop me.

"I told you, I got it." Sierra handed her card to the waitress.

Honestly, I don't like women picking up the tab. The only woman I'd let pay is my sister, because she's a pain to argue with.

But still, the waitress probably thought I was a cheapskate with low balls.

"Ma'am, your card's been declined." The waitress whispered to Sierra, but enough for me to hear.

Yep, she was onto me.

"That can't be right; try again." Sierra said.

The waitress shook her head. "Yeah, it's definitely declined."

I watched Sierra pull out her purse, emptying cash and coins on the table, counting, and something twisted in my chest. You'd think being in a popular strip group like the Midnight Vixens would come with a lot of money.

Maybe Sierra was trying to embarrass me.

Feeling worse than yesterday, I handed my card to the annoying waitress.

"Hey, I got the complete bill." Sierra protested.

I shook my head, standing up. "Forget it."

Then I walked towards the exit, ignoring her calling me.

"Wait!" Sierra said.

I should have known better than to trust women.

Back at the manor, I took a long nap, showered, and did a quick change of clothes. Frankie was waiting for me by the door leading to the hallway to my father's—

My office.

I'd never dreamed of calling it mine. But here we are.

"How was Monte Carlo?" I asked with sarcasm.

Frankie smirked. "How was jail?"

I glared at him. "Delightful. Locke thinks he's a wiseguy, cheating me out of paying for the cigars."

"I told you to let me handle it." Frankie sighed.

"Yeah, who'd have thought the bastard would try to kill me, huh? The crackhead could barely land a bullet. See, they added a charge—turns out breaking some idiot's fingers, gets you fined. Fix that and the Locke thing too."

"You got it, boss."

I noticed Frankie's demeanor had shifted. "What?"

"You had a scheduled ten a.m. meeting." Frankie informed nervously.

I looked at my watch. "It's twelve-fifteen."

Frankie shrugged. "Well, he insisted on waiting."

Whatever, no one was more important than me.

Then Frankie unlocked the door.

Everything in me froze mid-step. 

Sitting on a bench in the hallway, Roriano Marchesi glanced at me. His eyes were as deadly as a viper ready to strike, while the memory of putting two bullets in his father's chest crashed back.

Rory stood, his voice cold and blunt. "Hello, Capofamiglia."