It was Luca that finally answered. “We came for drinks and this isn’t your place… So– ”
“Well, we always come here,” Branka sneered. “Go drink somewhere else in Montréal.”
“Considering your brother owns fifty percent of this joint, why would we put money in someone else’s pocket?”
“Huh?” Branka and I stammered.
“Alessandro owns this place?” Branka questioned.
“That is what I said,” Luca repeated slowly, like he thought we were dumb. “Alessio owns this bar.”
Both Branka’s and my mouth formed a silent O. Neither one of us knew that little detail and we visited this place frequently during our high school years. Fleur had never mentioned it.
Needless to say, this would not be my choice of hangout in the future. Though I had to wonder how come we never ran into Alessio here before.
As if on cue, Branka’s brother showed up out of nowhere and sat down in the empty spot next to me with lethal grace.
“Hello,” I murmured, absorbing his heat. That man was a walking furnace.
He sat close to me, his muscled thigh brushing against my leg and my whole body sizzled. The butterflies in my stomach worked overtime and it took all my will not to scoot away from him. I needed space so I could breathe easier.
This section, despite being part of the bar, had a quiet ambiance to it. The circle-shaped booth had a sheer golden curtain that allowed all the men to see the bar but it afforded them privacy.
Fleur showed up too and offered us apologetic smiles. “Are you two okay?” Both of us nodded our answer. “I’ll bring you all another drink.”
With Alessio so close to me, it was hard to find my voice. My heart raced in my chest and my skin burned like it was on fire. He was too close, yet not close enough. I couldn’t remain around this guy or I’d do something stupid.
“Alessio, you own this place?” Branka blurted out, her tone slightly accusing.
“Yes.”
A clipped answer while Alessio’s eyes remained glued to me. His expression was disinterested, but his eyes darkened to a molten silver. He hid it underneath all his ruthlessness and darkness that consumed any room he lingered in.
And the most peculiar thought shattered through me.This man is broken.
“I don’t think you remember my best friend,” Branka continued. “Autumn Corbin.”
“Autumn,” he repeated, his tone like sweet liquor that was sure to leave a bitter aftertaste.
Alessio Russo was the kind of man who had women falling at his feet. Like he was a god. Well, he wasn’t. The jerk didn’t even remember me. Not that I was bitter about it or anything.
He was a gentleman dressed in a Brioni suit. A savage. A demon in disguise.
Something I didn’t need in my life.
But fuck, I wanted it.Him.
Why? I had no fucking idea. There was just something about his stone-cold gaze that set an inferno ablaze inside me. Through every single inch of me.
“How is the photography coming along?” he asked and I gave him a slow, plain blink. I was surprised he knew what I studied.
“That’s an odd thing to study,” Cassio chimed in, studying me curiously.
“Why is that?” I asked, tilting my chin up.
“Because all you have to do is press a button and you take pictures,” Luca commented, rolling his eyes. “You don’t need a fucking degree in it.”
“There is a degree for etiquette and social communication,” I grumbled. “You could use it. And then I’ll talk to you about my photography.”Dumbass.