Page 5 of Auctioned To Her Dad's Mafia Enemies

“AemeliaLambrettineedswaitressing money?” Alexis asks, his hazel eyes drifting over her. I can readmy brother like a book. He’s thinking about her ass and what it would look likepink with his handprints.

“You don’t have to keep saying my full name, you know.Aemelia is fine. And yeah, I need the money.”

“What happened to Daddy’s fortune?” I ask.

“I don’t know. You should ask him if you can find him. Ihaven’t seen him in over a decade.”

I lean against the desk and cross one leg over theother, feigning relaxation.“Convenient.”

“Not really,” she sneers. “He left us penniless, and itbroke my mom. It’s not easy to get by on my measly salary. Now, my aunt isdying, and we had to come back from Maryland. I’d rather be anywhere but here.”

I share a look with my brothers. Without a word, I cantell that Alexis doesn’t believe her, and Antonio is reserving judgment.

Alexis steps forward, and she tips her head to look upat him but stands her ground. “You expect us to believe that you just happenedto end up working here at our sister’s wedding?”

“I need the money. That’s all. My mom… she’s… and mybrother… All he does is get into trouble. If I don’t finish my shift, I won’tget paid, and we—”

Her throat bobs, but she raises her face further,elongating her slender, elegant neck until her chin is high. She looks like aballet dancer, poised before a graceful movement, eyes determined, posturestraight.

For a long moment, no one speaks.

I glance at Antonio, then Alexis. They’re watching herthe same way I am—measuring, assessing. Liars have tells. And Aemelia has none.

She’s telling the truth.

I exhale through my nose. “Give me your phone.”

She hesitates before pulling it from the pocket of herdress. I take it, flipping to her banking app. She doesn’t protest when I askher to open it so I can check her recent transfers, and the address listed onher account. She has less than a hundred dollars to her name, and her bankingaddress is in Maryland.

I hand it back, and she clutches it like a lifeline.

Standing, I turn to the dark window, running a hand downmy face over the scar that’s still rough after all these years.

If she’s telling the truth—andI’m sure she is—then this isn’t a threat. Aemelia’s no villain or assassin. Shewalked into this wedding like prey into a hunter’s snare.

She’s not a danger. She’s anopportunity.

But…

I turn to Alexis. “Check her.”

Alexisraises a brow, then grins like I’ve just handed him a gift. “With pleasure.”

Aemeliatenses as he approaches, her spine going rigid, but to her credit, she doesn’tback away. His hands are quick but clinical, patting her sides, under her arms,along her calves. When he reaches the hem of her dress, he crouches, sweepinghis palms up the inside of each thigh until she gasps and jerks.

“Relax,”he murmurs, not unkindly. “I’m just making sure you’re not hiding a wire or ablade between these sweet little legs.”

Her eyesnarrow, but she says nothing, breathing shallow as he finishes and stands. Heholds up his empty hands. “Clean. No weapons. No wire. Not even a lipstickknife. Disappointing.”

“Write down your address in thecity,” I say, sliding a sheet of paper to her. She strides forward quickly, hercheeks flushed, scribbling in an elegant cursive that perfectly matches herrefined features, giving the vital information with an innocence I don’tunderstand. When she’s done, she slides it back, and I catch a glimpse of theheart birthmark that was her tell. The last time I saw her, she told me in hersweet little voice that an angel had kissed her wrist, and the heart meantshe’d find true love.I wanted to tell her that true love doesn’t exist, butI didn’t. I may be a heartless son of a bitch, but even I wouldn’t go as far asto crush a little girl’s romantic dreams. I scribble my phone number, tear itfrom the top corner, and hand it to her.

“If you have trouble while you’re in town.”

She nods, accepting the scrap and folding it neatly.

“You can go,” I say finally.

She blinks. “I—what?”

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