Page 73 of Dirty Mafia Torment
I backtrack. “I’m not going out there.”
Camilla glances from him to me. “He won’t recognize you from last night.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Wait. You do know him?”
Does anyone know Lorenzo Beneventi?
“Cazzo,” she breathes. “You do.”
I thrust the plate into her hands before she can drown me in questions I’ll never answer, then slip behind the kitchen wall, out of sight, unsettled, and burning with a curiosity I know will ruin me.
While I hide, Camilla plays waitress, delivering dishes with that effortless smile of hers. But when she circlesback, she stops short near his table, glances at me, and gives a small shake of her head before moving away.
Bianca slides up beside me. “The balls on that man.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I mutter.
Camilla comes around the corner in a mad rush, grabs us both by the elbows, and drags us into the back storage room. She kicks the door shut behind us.
“What?” Bianca and I shout in unison.
“He’s asking for the blonde,” Camilla blurts.
My stomach plummets.
Bianca’s face contorts. “The blonde from last night?” She snatches a clean knife from the storage room shelf and storms the door. “I’ll carve him into pieces and add him as an anchovy appetizer.”
“Wait, no!” Camilla lunges.
But Bianca’s already halfway through the kitchen.
“Wrong blonde.”
I freeze. “What do you mean?”
“Dante didn’t speak to me. It was the other man, the one you assaulted last night.”
My throat dries. “What did he say?”
“He asked for the nosy blonde with the wicked temper.”
Oh, hell.
“I told him he was mistaken, that no one here fit that description.”
“And?”
She gives a tight shrug. “He said blondes aren’t really his type anyway.”
I scowl, confused and insulted. But we don’t have time to dissect his words because shouts erupt from the dining room.
Bianca.
We burst out of the storage room and into chaos. Aunt Teresa’s already charging through the kitchen, with us on her heels.
I tuck behind the kitchen wall as Bianca’s screams echo aroundthe restaurant. “You playboy. Coming in here and throwing your other women in my face.” In her hand is an empty plate.
