Page 1 of His to Break

CHAPTER 1

Leo

No matter how many times I come here, the disgust I feel never lessens. Aphrodite’s, the seediest strip club my family owns, reeks of desperation. It’s a foul stench that turns my stomach. We only hold onto the place because cash businesses like this are great for laundering money. Still, if I was ordered to burn the place to the ground, I’d do it in a heartbeat and with a smile on my face.

Everyone here makes my skin crawl. There are the patrons who trickle in every night after work and don’t go home to their wives until our security people throw them out at closing time. Most of them are fat, middle-aged assholes who can’t afford to chase decent pussy in a classier joint than this. Each of them would give their right nut for one of the women who bare their tits on stage to show a glimmer of genuine interest in them.

Then there are the women who only work here because life has left them no choice. They hold on to the hope that one day, some guy who’s not a complete douchebag is going to show up and take them away from this shitty place. They’re kidding themselves if they imagine Prince Charming would look twice at a bottle blonde in bargain basement lingerie and cheap plastic shoes.

The women here are not like the ones who work the high-end clubs we own. They don’t do it because the money’s good and it opens doors for them. They shake their asses night after night because they have no other way to pay the bills. Aphrodite’s is where dignity comes to die.

I skirt around the edge of the main room in the club, acknowledging no one, and push through the door to the private area out back. Dante, Antonio’s right-hand man, is stationed outside the office, a sign my brother, head of the Volante crime family, is already here.

“Dante.” I nod curtly to him as he steps aside to let me in.

“Leo.”

He doesn’t open the door for me and I wouldn’t expect him to. He’s not some lowly foot soldier. Outside of family, he’s one of the few people Antonio trusts with his life. I’ve known Dante since I was in third grade, but I wouldn’t call him a friend. The only men who get the honor of that title are my four brothers and Nico, who’s been in my crew since we dropped out of college together.

When I step into the room, which is decorated as tastelessly as the rest of the club in various shades of purple, Antonio is seated behind the crappy wooden desk. Matteo stands behind him. They’re both focused on a laptop screen but look up when they register my presence.

“Long time no see,” Matteo quips as I cross the room toward them.

I roll my eyes. It’s been less than half an hour since we were all at a party together. Emilia, who’s married to our brother, Alessandro, is celebrating the opening of her new hotel downtown. I have to admit to being skeptical about Emilia at first. A sweet Italian girl, she was so sheltered she didn’t even realize her grandfather was head of a vast criminal empire. She seemed too innocent, too breakable, to fit in with my family. But, since she met Alessandro, Emilia has dealt with all the shit life’s thrown at her without going to pieces. It seems her soft, feminine exterior hides a backbone of steel.

“Is Gio on his way?”

Even before Antonio shakes his head, I know what the answer to my question will be. Our youngest brother showed up for Emilia’s party tonight but left early, using the excuse that he had to take our sister, Olivia, home. He’s drifting away from the family, keeping his own counsel. I don’t fucking like it. Though I know he would never betray us, it worries me that he’s being so secretive. Something is going on with Gio that he isn’t prepared to share with the people he should trust the most. Antonio needs to sort him out, bring him back into the fold before it’s too late.

As I walk around the side of the desk to join my brothers and see what they’re looking at on the laptop, something sticks to the sole of my shoe. I look down in disgust. There’s gum on my new Testonis. Fuck! I really hate this dump. Even without my brother’s permission, I might just torch it.

I’m only here because Antonio got a message that Vinnie Bianchi wanted to meet him. My brother can’t face this man alone. We know nothing about him. He’s a ghost.

The younger son of Carlo Bianchi, one of our deadliest rivals, he’s been hidden from the world since he was born. Rumor has it Carlo wanted his sons raised separately to increase the chances of one of his heirs surviving if his family came under attack. A more likely explanation is that the old bastard feared the prospect of his sons conspiring to murder him in his sleep. Whatever the reason for him being kept out of sight, Vinnie Bianchi is so elusive, he’s taken on a mythical aura. Men tremble at the mere mention of him.

“So, where is this guy?” I ask.

Antonio points at the screen, which is displaying the security feed from one of the cameras in the club. It’s focused on a guy standing at the bar. He’s tall and muscular, dressed in jeans and a white shirt. His body language is tense, wary. His shoulders are taut. Though he bears no resemblance to his brother, Daniele, he’s pretty much what I expected.

The woman by his side, however, is a surprise. In high heels, she’s only a couple of inches shorter than Bianchi. Her figure is slender, but there’s a nice curve to her hips. Long, dark hair flows down her back. The short-sleeved dress that molds to her curves looks like something a woman might wear to a business meeting. There’s an elegance about her that’s ridiculously out of place in this dive.

“Who’s the woman?” Though I haven’t seen her face yet, I’m mesmerized.

Thankfully, Antonio doesn’t notice I’m practically drooling. He just shrugs. “His wife, girlfriend, a sacrificial offering, who knows?”

I really hope she’s the latter. My blood heats at the thought of her bound to an altar, that luscious black hair fanned out around her face, her back arched as she gives herself to me.

“Only one way to find out,” Matteo says before I can disappear any farther into that fantasy.

Antonio nods in agreement. He takes his cellphone out of his jacket pocket and shoots off a quick message. A chirping sound two seconds later heralds a reply.

“Dante’s fetching our guests,” he announces.

He closes the laptop and Matteo and I move back from the desk to flank our brother. It’s a demonstration of loyalty and a display of the power that we, as a family, wield. Matteo puts his hands in his pockets, deceptively relaxed. If Bianchi makes one wrong move, my younger brother will be on him before I even have the chance to draw my gun.

Less than a minute passes before there’s a knock at the door and Dante shows Bianchi and the woman into the room. She is stunning. Her features are delicate, her deep brown eyes wide. There’s something ethereal about her. I’ve been surrounded by beautiful women all my life, but she’s on another level. My heart actually misses a beat as she looks directly at me, unafraid.

Bianchi pulls back the only chair on the other side of the desk and helps her to sit. If nothing else, he’s got manners. The woman presses her knees together and slants her long legs to the side. Her back is straight, her head held high. She looks like a queen. I follow her movement as she sets a large black purse on the floor next to her. Dante will have checked it for weapons before allowing her to enter the room, but I’ll keep an eye on her all the same.

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