Page 5 of Mafia Fire

“Sweetheart.” The cool metal of my watch glides around my wrist and I snap the clasp. “I start my day at six sharp. Last night was amazing. But you’ve got to go.”

She throws me a plump pout. “You don’t even have time for breakfast?”

“Tell you what, make yourself comfortable. Take a shower. Call over to the kitchen and order whatever you want, then come up to the main house and I’ll have them call you a car. The espresso is better than anything you can get in Rome. I highly recommend it.”

“K, baby.” She pulls the covers up to her chin.

“Take your time. Enjoy the food. And one more thing, sweetheart—”

She rolls sultry, fuck-me eyes up to my face. “Yes?”

I give her a feral smile. “Don’t call me baby.”

Her gaze falls.

My brother Liam constantly tells me I need to grow a filter, that he despises rudeness, that I need to think before I speak. But some things just need to be said.

I’m nobody’s baby.

There’s only one woman in this world who I allowed to call me baby, and she’s been gone for ten years.

I close the bedroom door behind me, leaving Kat and my memories behind me as I start my day.

The sun warms my skin, my boots crunching the stones on the path. Kat’s little silver sports car is parked in front of the guesthouse I converted to be my current haven. Maybe I’ll get a proper house one day. For now, I’m all about work.

I kick a tire. I’ll be sure the next woman leaves before the sun comes up.

The path turns from loose stones to concrete as I wind through the garden to the front door of the club. I glance up at the giant black metal letters hanging from the stone wall of the hundred-year-old mansion I’ve renovated intoFire.At dusk, the sign comes to life, greeting our guests with real burning flames.

We bring the heat to Italy.

Fire is not your typical nightclub, not only for what we do inside, but for where it is. When I first had the idea for the club, I found a luxurious historic estate hidden in the mountains, a stone wall with iron gates protecting the property. When I first pulled up to the stone mansion surrounded by lush olive groves, I’d had one thought…

Sexy as hell.

Every time I lay eyes on that burning sign, I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face. My hand reaches out for one of the metal door handles I had commissioned, flames in the shape of angel wings. I start to pull on the heavy, dark-wood door.

Booker, a bouncer in his thirties with a smoothly shaved head and a solid build, beats me to it, holding the door open for me. “Morning, boss,” he says in his South African accent, handing me my double espresso like he does every day at this time. The earthy scent of coffee hits me, the cup hot in my hand. “Thanks, man. What are we reading today?”

“Grapes of Wrath.” He holds up the green, leather-bound novel he’d had tucked beneath one big-muscled arm. “One from Emilia’s mother’s collection. She said it’s a must-read. A classic.” My brother, Emilia’s husband, turned a room in his house into her private library. He spares no expense when it comes to her.

“Emilia’s a good woman.” My open palm hits his in a high-five as I step over the threshold. “My brother’s a lucky man.”

“The luckiest. Emilia’s the best.” Booker gets a certain tone when he says her name, the one all the guys use when they talk about Emilia, like he’d kill for her if he had to. And he would. They all would.

“She is.” My voice feels tight. Envy? I tip a stream of the hot espresso past my lips. “That she is.”

Everyone loves Emilia.

Sometimes it’s hard to watch her and my brother together. I get that familiar ache in my chest, just seeing the way he holds her… a feeling I felt for someone long ago, but haven’t since and never will again.

Am I lonely?

There’s a woman in my bed almost every night. I’m surrounded by the country’s most beautiful women. I own a kink club for God’s sake, gorgeous females ever at my service.

How can I be lonely?

Besides, I’ve got my baby to keep me company. Fire.

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