Page 9 of Royal Sin

What most patrons didn’t know was that Serena’s brother owned this place—which meant it was a cover for not so legal business. My bestie and I never openly discussed it, but I learned years ago that her brother was a real-life mobster. A sigh left my lips. There were so many things we didn’t talk about, but we were still closer than sisters despite it.

A waiter brought by a small carafe of wine, not bothering to check ID. One more reason to love this place. That and the fact that he knew me on a first name basis. He paused to ask how my college finals were graded, since I hadn’t been here in the last four weeks.

“Straight A’s,” I beamed.

“That’s our girl!” he said proudly. “I never doubted you for a second, Anna.”

“Thank you, Paolo.”

His gaze lifted, widened, and then he scampered away.

“You’re on a first name basis with the staff?” Leonard asked, folding into the seat across from me.

I shrugged. “I’m a friendly person.”

“Friendly,” Leonard repeated, his eyes scanning the restaurant with a precision that missed nothing. “And connected, it seems.”

I poured us each a glass of the ruby-colored wine. “What makes you say that?”

“The staff’s reaction to you. The fact we were seated immediately despite the line at the door.” His gaze settled back on me, dark and assessing. “The wine that appeared without being ordered.”

“Maybe I’m just a very good customer,” I offered with a smile.

He took a sip of wine, his eyes never leaving mine. “And maybe there’s more to the little author slash college student than meets the eye.”

The way he said it—not accusatory but intrigued—sent a flutter through my stomach. I’d chosen this place specifically because I knew I’d be treated well, but I hadn’t considered how revealing that special treatment would be.

“How young are you, Anna?” He steepled his hands.

This was a question I was prepared for. “Old enough to take grad school courses.”

Nothing about that was a lie. I sat motionless, letting those dark eyes study me. When he was satisfied with the truth of the statement, he took his wine and sipped it.

“So tell me what happens next,” he said, his smile shifting into a sly slant. “I’ve thought of nothing else but those two trapped in a dungeon.”

Of all the ways I’d planned to charm this man into dating me, this was the one I was least prepared for. But I spent last night thinking long and hard.

“He was tortured—brutally. Her magic snapped into place. She destroyed the villain and now they are living happily ever after,” I quipped, glancing at the menu even though I knew what I was going to order.

The silence from the other side of the table continued. I wondered if he would think I was crazy for taking home a half dozen cannoli later. Well-brought-up society girls weren’t supposed to eat much, but it would be a sin to come to Pizzeria Ostiense and not pig out.

“Do you see something you like….” My question trailed off.

Leonard was leaning back in his seat, studying me with an unreadable expression.

“What?” I brushed a hand self-consciously over my hair. “Is something wrong?”

He rubbed his chin, and then let out a long sigh. “I’m not a writer, nor do I read much fiction, but it seems too easy.”

I blinked. “Easy?”

He nodded slowly. “Deus ex machina.”

My heart fell. “Well, uh, thanks.”

Anger quickly flamed to my aid. How dare he. He didn’t know me or the book. And yet he sat there, offering unsolicited advice. This was why I didn’t share my work with the world. People didn’t get it.

“The David is good. Or maybe the Prima Vera.” I changed the subject. “What are you hungry for?”

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