Page 29 of Arranged

I slipped my fingers behind her long neck, keeping my grip firm. As I lowered my head, she hissed, managing to bite my lower lip before I could kiss hers. The instant coppery taste of blood in my mouth was no deterrent. I captured her mouth with utter passion, holding her tightly against my body.

She didn’t fight my tongue as I explored her mouth, the act being carefully watched by everyone. The consummate actress within her continued and she rolled her open hand over my shoulder, tangling her fingers in my hair. While the intimate moment was being captured by everyone in the room, for a few seconds it felt as if we were all alone.

If that was the case, I’d be doing much more than just kissing her.

When I finally backed away, she licked her lips, dragging the tip of her tongue across the single drop of blood remaining. Only when everyone began to clap was the spell broken.

She forced herself to pull away, running her fingers down my shirt. As she leaned forward, I was rewarded with the sound of her husky voice. “Your collar is stained with wine.”

“Imagine if it was blood.”

Through several handshakes and claps on the back, minutes passed. All the while I was conscious of the comings and goings in the room, Gio giving me an okay nod from the doorway. At least all was quiet.

Carmella escaped the clown show first, leaving the room without saying a word to anyone. I pushed my way through the crowd, forced to smile and nod, giving thanks to a few others. When I reached the hallway, Gio motioned where she’d gone.

“I have some news,” he said.

“Which is?”

“One of our men was stupid. He opened his mouth.”

“Meaning?”

Gio stopped talking when a couple moved into the hallway, taking their time headed toward the dining room. He moved closer to keep our conversation private. “He sold off information.”

I took a deep breath, feeling instant rage. “One of our own?”

“Yep. He was about to become a made man. Stupid fuck.”

“Where is he?”

“Bronco has a couple guys keeping an eye on him. He’s at his house.”

“His name?”

“Marco Rivera.”

I knew Marco. He’d been one of those men who’d grown up surrounded by mobsters. He ate, slept, and drank with them and had since he was twelve years old. He’d never appeared as a guy who could be bought, loyal to the core.

“Then I guess we pay the man a late-night visit. We leave in an hour.”

“Yes, sir. Should I tell Don Santorelli?”

“No. Not yet. Let me handle the situation first. Then I’ll have a talk with him.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

I headed in the direction where Carmella had gone, finding her in the kitchen. She was standing by the sink, one hand gripping the edge. With her head leaned over, I wasn’t able to see her face. She sensed the moment she wasn’t alone, her body stiffening more than before.

Little feet sounded behind me, a small child barging into the room. At first, he had his eyes on Carmella, but when he noticed me, he stopped short.

Carmella turned, throwing her hate-filled gaze toward me. When she opened her mouth, the young boy spun around almost military style, throwing out his hand to shake mine.

“I’m Gabriel Lupini. Who are you?”

I took his hand, shifting my gaze from her face back to his. I leaned over, shaking it gently, but he was having none of it, more forceful than a boy of his age should be. “I’m Alejandro Banderas.”

He wrinkled his nose, finally nodding as if accepting my presence. “What’s a fi-nan-ce?” He struggled to get the word out.

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