Page 30 of Bought By the Mafia

“If the same thing happened to you, would you forgive that person?”

Dante raised a brow. “You know, I get the reputation for ruthlessness, but I think you’re way more ruthless than I am. I wonder what you have planned for her.”

Fuck her. Get my revenge. Leave her on the roadside. “My just desserts.”

“Remind me to never get on your bad side. Come on,” he tapped on my shoulder. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be late. Can you imagine if Corina arrived before I did?”

The ceremony went on without incident. Watching Dante being in love and being happy made me feel a little jealous. Corina fervently returned my brother’s love. And he hers. I wondered what it was like to be with someone who loved you unconditionally and if I would ever experience it. And when that thought crossed my mind, my eyes searched for Simona in the crowd. She was sitting near the front next to my brother, looking beautiful and put together. She was like a porcelain doll. Cold. Beautiful. Emotionless. Looking for love from someone like her was like searching for water in a desert. You might find it, but odds are, it would be a mirage.

When the church ceremony ended and everyone was gathered at the reception, I told myself that I didn’t want to be near her, but I was lying to myself. My heart lurched when a whiff of her scent tickled my nostrils, reminding me she was sitting next to me. I didn’t want to. I strived not to, but my mind instantly went back to the last time I smelled that perfume of lilies and lavender on her neck. When I was ravaging her in the bathroom of some ballroom, not too dissimilar to the one we were now. My eyes instinctively sought out similar rooms in the ballroom. I spotted a powder room on the left, and several restrooms at the end of the hall. I could drag her into one of them and repeat what we did last time. Would she be willing? I turned to her. She was texting something on her phone. A boyfriend? The friend she met in Central Park Mickey and Johnny told me about? Whoever it was, the person on the other end of that conversation elicited a smile from her. I don’t think she’s ever smiled at me like that. I would love to — What was I thinking? Why should I care whether or not she was happy? My goal was not to make her life fun. My goal was to inflict misery, yet I was the one suffering. Fuck this. I thought. I wanted to some air.

Focusing on the activities wasn’t helping. People were saying their speeches, and I had already said mine. I wanted to be away from her to clear my head, and Dante and his new bride were too happy with each other’s company to want my gloomy mood to dampen theirs. The twins had found two bridesmaids who preoccupied them. I got up and went to look for a drink. A real one and not the lite shit being served. There was a bar just beyond the ballroom, partially empty. Only the bartender and two other patrons were there. I ordered a scotch, neat and chugged half of it down. This was better. My sour mood was already lightening as the alcohol softened my mind.

It was when I was nursing the rest of my drink that I noticed that the other patron who was at the bar counter kept glancing at me. I tried to ignore him at first, but after he glared at me for a solid five minutes, I finally turned to him and said, “What?”

He was a blond man, slender, and looked like he was in his twenties. He was dressed like every other guest in wedding clothes, but he didn’t look like someone I would recognize. There was nothing about him that suggested he was part of Dante’s crew. Quite the opposite. He reminded me of the carefree trust fund babies I had to deal with in my line of business.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “It’s just you looked so familiar and I didn’t know how to open, but are you by any chance married to Simona M—”

Was he one of her ex-boyfriends? Or was it another mark? And why did all her men seem to pop out of nowhere everywhere I went? I thought of ignoring him and leaving the bar. My curiosity overshadowed my impatience for her shit. I nodded. “What’s it to you,” I added.

His face brightened at what I meant to be a cold and guarded response designed to brush off a person. “I knew I recognized you from somewhere.” He then took his drink in his hand, got off his seat, and came to sit on the stool next to mine. I guess social cues weren’t his specialty. “You might not remember me, but I was at your home when you kicked us out.” He extended his hand. “I’m Jack, Simona’s assistant.”

Something about him became familiar. I remember a man standing next to her noting things down when I came back home from a trip. I could not remember his face, but his height and build seemed similar to that man. If he was her assistant, it gave rise to more questions. “What are you doing here? Did she invite you?”

Jack withdrew the extended hand and adjusted himself in his seat. “No. Of course not. I came with a friend. She knows the bride. I didn’t even know that it was the same Morelli family. Didn’t even make the connection until I saw you.”

I took a swig of my drink. “We are a small family.”

He chuckled. “I don’t know about that.” Realizing the connotations of what he had just said, he blushed and cleared his throat. “Anyway, I was looking for Simona. Looks like I can’t find her. Is she here? She’s not answering my texts.”

“Sounds like she doesn’t want to be bothered.”

He chuckled again. His laughter was more strained this time. Was I scaring him? Good. I hoped I was. He was irritating me and I wanted to drink my scotch in peace. “That’s the thing. I think she would want to know about this.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Not that it’s life or death or anything. It’s just that…” he trailed off, and he looked unsure for a moment. “You know what, nevermind. I’m probably bothering you.”

“Say what you want to say.”

“It’s just that — now I feel dumb for even bothering you about this. It’s just that Simona has been using my storage space to store her clothes, but I need use of it now.”

Storage? Clothes? “For her business?” I knew she had been looking for locations. Not that I was trailing her or anything, but my men had a tendency to give me the rundown of her activities without being asked, especially after the Leonardo debacle.

“Old clothes. You know, for her charity.”

I almost choked on my drink. Simona has a charity? The woman had no generous bone in her body. Plus, I’ve never seen her doing any fundraising of any sort. If this poor man believed she had a charity, Simona likely deceived him. Duped him into some scam or bilked him into storing her clothes without having to pay.

“Why didn’t she look for her own storage space?” She had enough money to buy an entire warehouse if she wished to.

“Something about the logistics and storage spaces she couldn’t use because of their location. I don’t know. Will you be able to tell her? Because the need is a kind of urgent.”

“Sure. I’ll pass on the message.”

Jack bobbed and slid away. A few minutes later, he was out of the bar. I finished my drink and went to rejoin the rest of the group, my conversation with Jack still on my mind. Simona was alone at the table when I got back, looking pristine and perfect. How she kept herself perfectly put together always amazed me. I had an urge to muss up that perfection by untangling her hair, ruffling her dress, or kissing her. Or maybe all the above. Her gaze was on the people on the dance floor, radiating as she watched them dance, but as soon as it drifted towards me, she hastily wiped her smile away.

“What’s so fascinating?” I asked when I was back in my seat.

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