Page 3 of Savage Grace

I could finally drop the Princessa act and be whoever I felt like being. Whether that was a Georgina, a Natalie, a Marie—whoever the fuck I wanted in that moment.

A satisfied smile crept onto my face, and I riffled through my tiny handbag to find that sneaky cigarette I’d stolen from my brother, Antoni.

It was a ritual I picked up as a teenager I never quite dropped, maybe more for sentimental reasons than anything else.

Sure, it was a filthy habit.

Sure, I could probably just buy my own.

But it just wasn’t the same. None of them knew, not even Larissa.

It was my dirty little secret.

I stepped back a little and leaned against the front of the club with the cigarette between my teeth, fishing through my bag for the lighter (also stolen from Antoni).

“Fuck,” I mumbled to myself when I realised it wasn’t there.

A flame flickered before my eyes and I looked up, seeing a tattooed hand holding a lighter in front of my face. I was a tall woman, and in heels even more so, but he towered over me.

The corner of my lip twitched as I leaned forward, letting him light the end of the smoke for me. I took it between two fingers after taking a drag and leaned my head against the wall, assessing him. His white shirt hung loose around his torso, hiding what I was sure was a well-built wall of muscle.

“You know—” I started, but he had already started walking away.

I watched him and bit the inside of my lip in frustration. The mystery man turned, smirking at me over his shoulder, and I shook my head at him, letting out a laugh.

“Tease,” I mumbled to myself.

I zipped up my bag and took the short walk down the street to Lilith’s Club.

People didn’t understand why I felt the need to frequent a strip club so often, but it was just another place that felt like a safe space for me.

Of course, it helped that it was owned by my sister-in-law, Rome, and that I had become pretty good friends with all the girls who danced there.

They never judged me either.

They never had these expectations of me that maybe my family or childhood friends did. Women in the mafia were expected to be pure, put together, and ready for marriage. And that’s exactly the person I was.

I was exactly who my mother had raised me to be, and I was exactly who my father would love to have bid off as a wife for the highest price.

But now he was dead.

My brother Antoni was in charge and didn’t exactly have the same ideals as my father. Where that leftme, I was still figuring out.

I swayed, closing my eyes and letting my head and shoulders move along to the music as I climbed the narrow stairs up to the club. I was riding a buzz that I did not want to come down from.

The dark club that was illuminated neon pink, casting a warm glow over my skin as I stepped into the main area of the Lilith’s.

I waved to Bea, who was upside down on the first pole near the entrance. She brightened, shooting me a quick wave in return before she dropped to the floor in such a way that my knees got sympathy pains. I snaked my way through the huddled groups of men, avoiding all eye contact, and quickly spotted Rome standing by the bar.

“Hello,” I cooed, leaning against the stool next to her.

She shook her head at me but smiled, pulling me in for a hug.

“Mmm,” she sniffed at me. “Stealing Toni’s smokes again, are we?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I fluttered my eyelashes.

Rome rolled her eyes and patted the seat next to her, turning her attention back to the woman she was having a conversation with. Gwen slid me my usual drink, and I closed my eyes again, swaying to the music and rolling my shoulders as I fell into the groove.

---