Page 1 of Born into Mayhem
Chapter 1
Dario
The club is packed tonight, and the woman in front of me is doing everything she can think of to get my attention. If her fuck-me eyes weren’t clue enough, then the way she’s grinding her ass in the air would be. Subtle is not a word I’d use to describe her. When she smiles, I don’t return it. Instead, I look away, the same bored expression on my face that I’ve been wearing all night.
No one walking into La Dolce Vitawould know it, but we host high-stakes poker games here every weekend. Millions of dollars are won and lost right above this room, and no one will ever be the wiser about it. I’d been on guard duty for tonight’s game, and after six hours of watching them play, I’m more than ready to get the hell out of here.
Giving the bartender a nod, he pours me a shot of whiskey before going back to the group of half-drunk women who are waiting on a refill. It’s a Friday, so Ricki will be busy until closing. He’s our best bartender, though, so I know he can handle it.
“She’s making it pretty obvious, isn’t she?”
I turn at the sound of my brother’s voice, and before he can even take the barstool next to me, Ricki is pouring him a shot and sliding itover. Alessandro takes the glass and nods his thanks before downing it in one go. He looks back over at the blonde on the dance floor.
“Go for it, brother. You could use a good fuck,” he tells me, smiling at the look I give him. “You’ve been in a shit mood lately. We’ve all noticed it.”
I look back at the woman who’s still giving it her all. She’s not a quitter. I’ll give her that. Not wanting her to get any ideas about my interest, I quickly look away and back to my brother’s smug grin.
“I’m not interested,” I tell him.
“Why the fuck not? She’s putting on quite the show for you, and her tits are so big that tiny dress is barely holding them in. Go and have some fun, brother.”
I raise my glass and take another drink, letting the burn of the whiskey distract me from this annoying conversation I’m forced to take part in. “Why don’t you go fuck her? I’m guessing she’d be just as happy to have you.”
My brother laughs. He’s always been the more carefree of us. He’s thirty-four to my thirty-six, and life has always been nothing but a fun game to Sandro.
“Don’t fucking insult me, brother. I’m not taking your leftovers.”
“It’s not a leftover if I’ve never fucked her,” I say.
He shrugs. “Maybe, but it still feels insulting. No, that woman wants you, and she’s not going to ride my dick as a consolation prize.”
The corner of my lip turns up in a grin, because even if my brother is the more laid-back one in the family, he’s always been able to pull a laugh from my grumpy ass. He’s right about my rotten mood. It’s been a long couple of weeks, and I can’t seem to shake the irritation that’s been hanging over me.
As if the universe wants to solidify that feeling, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, and as soon as I pull it out, I see Mia’s face lighting up my screen—pink-dyed hair, smug-ass smile, and a pair of hazel eyes that always look like she’s up to no good. I manage to bite back the irritated growl I want to give, but my face must show it all because Sandro laughs and motions for Ricki to pour us another drink.
“I don’t know why the fuck you’re smiling,” I say, finishing my whiskey before Ricki fills the glass again.
Sandro downs his second shot, not taking the time to savor it, and flashes me a grin that looks a lot like Mia’s shit-eating one. I know before he’s even spoken a word that he’s about to piss me off.
“I’ve just never seen my brother infatuated with anyone.”
I scowl at him. “And you’re not seeing it now, asshole.”
He laughs and nods at the blonde who’s still trying to put on a show for me. “Then go fuck her, Dario. She’s obviously willing, and since you’re not attached to anyone, it’ll be a fun night for you both.” Just to piss me off, he raises his glass at the woman in a toast and then laughs when she immediately starts walking over.
“Sandro,” I warn, but my pissed-off tone just makes the fucker laugh again.
The amused look he gives me makes me want to punch him, but before I can kick his ass like he so rightfully deserves, the woman is next to us and smiling up at me.
“Hey,” she says while running her eyes over me. She takes in the expensive suit I’m wearing, and I can tell she likes what she sees. The irritated expression on my face isn’t doing shit to deter her.
“Hey,” Sandro tells her while I remain silent and take another drink.
She looks at my brother, and I can tell that she still wants me, but she’d be more than happy to walk off with him.
“Not going to fucking happen,” he says to me in Italian, the sound of it nearly making the blonde orgasm on the spot. He laughs at her soft moan and raises a challenging brow at me. “What are you waiting for, brother?”
He spoke in English this time, and his words have the woman looking at me with an excited puppy-dog expression, hoping like hell she’s about to get a bone.
