Page 17 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

“You want protection? I can do it, under my wing and through a special contract.”

“Okay,” Declan says. “Name your price.”

“It’s not monetary.”

Conor’s head jerks upward, and Declan eyes me with suspicion. Smart man.

“What is it you want, Matteo?” Declan asks.

I pause for a single beat, the silence in the room deafening.

“I want your daughter. Heaven.”

CHAPTER2

HEAVEN

THREE WEEKS LATER

Tonight, all secrets will be revealed.

Sick, twisted, and otherwise.

Because something is going on and, although I’m meant to be underboss, equal to Conor, everyone has been tight-lipped. I’m going to find out why.

I know it has something to do with the darkly dangerous and elusive Matteo Villani.

There’s only one way I can think of to see him, and this is it.

“This is really fucked up, Heaven,” my younger brother, Patrick, mutters, as we cut across Greene Street in SoHo, then across Prince, and left again. He fumbles with his black eye mask. “I mean, I’m all for doing reconnaissance, but going to a sex club with your sister is just…sick.”

“Put your mask on,” I say, “we’re close.”

“This mask is really friggin’ itchy. How long do I need to keep it on?”

“Everyone enters wearing a mask.” My high heels click along the pavement as we cross a desolate street, the moon disappearing behind the tall, old buildings. Darkness falls upon us, the street lamps sparse. “It’s for anonymity, dipshit. We’re on a mission, remember?”

I loop my arm through his as we near the private entrance of this nondescript Manhattan town house deep in the heart of SoHo. I’m already feeling the bravado from the shots of whiskey I had before heading to this carnal celebration of All Hallow’s Eve.

A woman with the kind of figure that fuels X-rated fantasies sashays past, and suddenly Patrick is eager to get in the doors.

We approach the masked doorman. I reach in my clutch for the brass token that was delivered via messenger to my Upper West Side brownstone a few days earlier.

I’m not stupid enough to join this club, but I needed an in. I called in a few favors and had hard words with the right—or is that wrong?—people. And here we are, under a borrowed name.

“What’s this mission for again? We’re meeting the Villanis soon. Why not just wait?” Patrick looks around as we slide inside the Villani sex club. It’s not the official name but what I call it.

“Don’t you think it’s odd I’ve been kept out of the details of the whole arrangement?”

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to.

And it’s more than that. Our family having a business venture with the Villani family, Sicilian mafia transplants who came to New York to make a name, isn’t an issue. It’s the fact I happen to know this business is specifically with Matteo.

The man whose name strikes fear in too many black, evil hearts.

Something is up, so I’m here. Everyone who’s anyone, the glitterati and the rich, corrupt, and powerful, is here at the famed Halloween bash tonight.

That means Matteo will be here, too.

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