Page 19 of Reign of Fate

Tonight, I’m taking Elisa out for dinner at Chez Monique, a French restaurant in the city. More often than not, Elisa prefers to stay home and make a meal where Adriana would join us as well, or we’d go to a local restaurant that Adriana would choose. I thought this would be a nice change of pace and give Elisa and me time alone to talk.

It’s time to discuss the details of our wedding. Seeing that this is a second marriage for both of us, it will be a low-key affair. If I had my way, the only people in attendance would be my daughter, Raffaele, and Evangeline. However, it would be rude to ignore Elisa’s family, even though they haven’t shown their faces since the funeral. Since Luigi was told that I would be making Elisa my wife, all he thinks about now is elevating his status and that of Leno, his son, inUltimo Morte.Luigi should know Raffaele and me better than that. InUltimo Morte,you earn your position, and you get prime business dealings based on your performance.

Leno’s a smart man and well educated. He’s much more refined than his father, and he does well negotiating with the politicians we have on our payroll. Since we found the hidden information, Raffaele and I have been digging deep into the people who Guido still had contact with. Both Luigi and Leno came up clean. The only beef I have with Leno is that he left his sister out there on her own to deal with the sorrow and pain of losing her husband. The question of why is one I plan on asking him once I get him alone.

I told Elisa where we were going for dinner, and her eyes popped wide open.

“Is this a problem?” I asked her.

“N-no.” She looked so cute as she bit her lip, then she looked tentatively up at me and said, “It’s a very expensive restaurant, Ivo, and, um, very public.” Her voice trailed off.

“Right.” I acknowledged her train of thought. “It’s expected that you’re going to marry again, and I’m not going to hide the fact that we’re going to be together.” I put on my best smile. “I expect you to have an appropriate dress for the occasion.” She gave me a shy smile and a small nod.

I’m looking forward to seeing what Elisa has chosen to wear tonight. She never disappoints, whether it be torn jeans, fancy silky tops, or tight skirts. I walk up the steps to the front door and ring the bell. The door swings open. I expect to see the beautiful woman I’ve seen for the last few months, and beautiful she is, only tonight, she’s exceptionally glamorous.

Elisa is wearing a sexy, black, slim, knee-length dress, the top a lace camisole with spaghetti straps. Her hair is pulled to one side and pinned up with black-and-silver accessories. Even her makeup is more elegant and sexy: smoky shadow that highlights the blue-purple specks in her eyes and the ruby-red lips that I imagine wrapped around my cock. She’s a walking dream, and she’s mine.

“Will I do?” she asks in a husky voice. She feels it too. The smoldering fire that started with embers that we’ve been fanning to a flame since the first time I came to see her. She tugs the sheer black shawl around her shoulders.

“You’ll do very nicely,” I say with a salacious grin. I hold out my hand; she places hers in mine, and I lead her to my car. I help her in, getting a peek at the smooth skin of her thigh. It takes all I have to keep my eyes on the road and my hands on the steering wheel. My fingers are itching to graze over her bare knee.

The parking lot of Chez Monique is full, as it always is. It’s the most elite restaurant in town, and anyone who’s anyone comes to eat here, including the captains and underbosses ofUltimo Morte. I chose this place because of the exceptional food, but now I’m regretting my decision as we’re being led to our table by our perfectly coiffed hostess in her uniform of pristine black skirt and white blouse. I place my hand on Elisa’s back as we walk past the tables, around several of which are seated some of our senior men and their wives having dinner.

Elisa draws in a heavy breath, keeping her gaze steady on the path to our table. I hold her chair out, then take my seat opposite her. She looks at her menu, then at me, then at her lap, but not once does she glance around the room to take a look at the restaurant itself. Elisa is avoiding the inquisitive stares aimed in our direction.

“May I get you something to drink?” the waiter asks.

“A bottle of white wine. Your best Chablis,” I tell him. I’ve noticed that Elisa prefers white wine with her meals. I also notice how she closes her eyes on the first sip, taking in the full-body taste, savoring the flavor.

Elisa’s lips curve into a small smile. “Thank you,” she murmurs. Her sweet expression makes me grin.

“Do you need another moment with the menu?” the waiter asks. His focus centers on the swell of Elisa’s breasts.

“Hey!” I say sharply. The good-looking, twenty-something, blond-haired Romeo jerks his gaze back to me. His hands start to tremble, and so they should. I could gouge his eyes out for staring at my woman like he is. “Do yourself a favor and find another waiter to serve us.”

He slinks away with his tail between his legs.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it,” Elisa whispers.

“He was ogling your tits. You may not know this about me, but I’m a possessive bastard. He’s lucky he’s still breathing,” I tell her gruffly. Elisa scans the room and takes a deep breath. It seems that we’ve caught the attention of the patrons. “Ignore them.”

“That’s hard to do when we’re the main attraction,” she says.

As soon as I meet the gazes of our men, they know to turn their heads. Then I see three men at the far end of the room, one I know very well. Sean McDaniel is the latest addition to our political fold. He’s easy to bribe and has many skeletons in his closet that make him easy to manipulate. The other two don’t look familiar.

I trust my gut, and I get a sick feeling that trouble is afoot. They’re sitting at a corner table, the two unknown men with their backs to me. One’s got light brown hair and wide shoulders. The other has a slimmer build and is leaning into Sean while talking. He seems to be the leader of the two. Sean doesn’t appear too happy and pulls back, only for the leader to reach for his wrist to stop him from moving. I may not be able to see his face, but his thick finger has a gaudy gold ring on it.

I need to get a closer look at the situation. I excuse myself, beelining for the men’s room, moving right past Sean and his guests. Sean’s agitated, and I would be too if I were him and had an envelope with a photo on top showing Sean and a half-naked woman in bed. Sean turns the picture over.

“What do you want?” Sean asks through clenched teeth.

I want to laugh out loud that good ol’ Sean got caught with physical evidence of his infidelity. Mr. Squeaky Clean to the public, with a respectable wife, on several boards for local charities, and father to three kids between the ages of seventeen and twenty-one, has been photographed with a high-class prostitute. Unfortunately, Sean is our political puppet, and these guys are tangling with our patsy.

When I get to the bathroom, I text Raffaele to let him know what’s going down. I can easily subdue these two idiots, but that’s only half the problem. We need to know who they’re working for. Raffaele tells me to go ahead with my plan. As I go back to my table, I stop at several other tables to say hello to our men, placing my hand on their shoulders and squeezing. It’s my signal that I need their assistance.

Once I’m back with Elisa, I send a quick text to Sean. When he looks at his phone, his head rises, and he looks around the room and locks eyes with me. I can see the expression of relief. His job is to give a sign when they’re about to head outside. We’ll do the rest.

The new waiter comes to take our order. I’m glad that Elisa didn’t opt for a salad and instead chose filet mignon. I go for the medium rare, twelve-ounce Kobe steak. While we wait for our dinner and Sean’s signal, Elisa asks me about my day and Adriana.

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