Page 50 of Where Wild Hearts Dance
He smiles and pushes the door open. “I think I probably should, don’t you?”
I manage to not roll my eyes though it takes some effort. “I doubt there will be any mafiosos there, but if you insist…”
I give him the address and he nods thoughtfully.
“Do I have a curfew?”
Cristiano frowns. “Does your father give you one?”
A laugh bursts out of me. “Not usually, no. But then again, I rarely go out-out.”
The frown deepens—he’s not amused. “Then yes. Midnight, Cinderella.”
Something glistens behind his eyes and the penny drops. “You’re going to have me followed, aren’t you?”
A corner of his mouth ticks up. “No. But I do have acouple of guys in that area who’ll be given the heads-up you’re there.”
I force a smile and grit my teeth. “Great!” I’m getting good at this whole exclamation thing.
“Have a nice time,” he calls after me and I wave a hand overhead before pulling the door behind me a little too hard.
Benito
With Beppe and Nicolò on their way out, I decide to take a moment on the terrace. I have real issues to solve on a legal front but there’s nothing that fires me up more than seeking revenge on an enemy.
For a long time, the Marchesis were that enemy, but in all honesty, they’ve gotten boring. Predictable. We’ve pushed them out of New York almost completely, leaving us entirely in control of the city.
We now have multiple possible moves in front of us—we could take Philly, or Jersey, maybe even Florida, but with the New York officials in our pockets and the officials of most other states in theirs, we wouldn’t be up against much friction.
The suggestion that the Marchesis have a wild cardyet to play turns me on a little, I have to admit. Well, it’s either that or the scene laid out in front of me.
Contessa damn Castellano is draped over a chair in the center of the terrace, seemingly oblivious to all other human life. One leg is curled beneath her while the other is stretched out an unfairly long way. Her alabaster skin is showed off to perfection in a barely-there black two-piece that doesn’t seem to be much more than a few pieces of string tied together. The only thing covering her ass cheeks is a tight black belt—oh wait, my mistake.Skirt.
Good Lord Almighty, I am just about done with this.
Back at the barbershop, I thought I had a problem. And now, three days later, IknowI have a problem. Hiring Karina was nothing but an expensive research exercise that didn’t yield the results I’d hoped for. I silently thank God that only I can see through the façade. When it comes to Contessa Castellano, I’m nothing more than a borderline alcoholic abstaining for a weekend just to prove something to myself, then failing miserably.
I hired a call girl to prove I can still get it on with other women and… turns out I can’t.
Ever since the day I saw her dancing, I haven’t been able to get her out of my head. Actually, make that since the day she confessed she’s no longer a virgin. Actually, who the fuck am I kidding? It’s since Gianni’s fucking funeral. Contessa Castellano has taken up permanent residence in my head. And I just know, the crazed, single-minded masochist I am, if nothing changes, this will turn into some unhinged obsession that can only lead to danger. I fought hard to become consigliere to this family and nothing—not even Contessa Castellano—is going to threaten that. I cannot and will not allow it. If I lose my focus, my edge, mygrip, everyone will suffer. Not just Contessa but the entire Di Santo family. The only way through this nonsense is to take a good, hard step back.
I hesitate, my gaze drawn to her like an irrational obsession, and that gives me even more ammunition.
It’s for the best.
I feel her eyes flick my way as I walk straight past her. I don’t trust myself right now to hold a conversation that doesn’t end with the words “bend the fuck over.”
I stand at the edge of the terrace and drag in some long breaths. I should have gone straight into the house as soon as I saw her, but I neededair.
“Good afternoon to you too.”
Her words carry on the light breeze but her tone is loaded with spite. I’ve pissed her off. Well,good.
Maybe she’s halfway to knowing how I feel just having to be in the general vicinity of those damned legs.
Cristiano joins me and we both feign interest in the view while discussing business in hushed tones.
At the same time he walks away, Tess gathers her things and follows him into the house. I can’t help my gaze narrowing as I watch her disappear from view. Instinctively, I want to follow. But rationally I know I can’t. This has to stop.
