Page 46 of Satin Empire

“Don Renzo Rossi isn’t a dick. He’s balancing a thousand different problems from a thousand different sources, and he’s making the best decisions he can for the Famiglia as a whole. You should keep that in mind.”

I do my best not to grind my jaw because that’s such a mafia prick answer, always deferring to the family, to the organization, to their Don and their Capos and all that crap, instead of maybe wondering if the people they follow might not have their best interests at heart.

Instead, I shrug and try to slip away, leaving my wine behind, but I don’t get far before he calls me back. His eyes are softer, and he holds up a hand like he’s requesting peace.

“There’s another thing I wanted to ask you about and we got sidetracked.”

“What’s that?” I lean against the doorjamb.

“I want you to help me get this club up and running. I want you to be a partner on the deal.”

My mouth opens and a laugh bubbles up from my throat. But instead of letting it out, I clamp my jaw down and swallow against the urge.

“Why?” I ask instead. “This is your thing, not mine.”

“You got a taste of freedom, baby. Don’t you want to see how far you can take it? I’m not saying you’ll do everything, but you convinced me to take the leap, and now I want to give you something in exchange. I want my wife by my side.”

It’s weirdly sweet, and I’m actually moved by the gesture. I cross my arms, trying to harden myself to him, but crap, the thought’s not all that bad. I never wanted to run a nightclub and don’t know a thing about opening one, but maybe by getting involved, I can figure out what I actually do want.

Because that’s my real problem. All these years cooped up in my stepfather’s house, imagining what life could be like if only he weren’t so damn overbearing, except I never actually decided what I wanted to do. There were only ever vague plans and general ideas.

Carlo’s giving me a shot at something concrete, and he doesn’t have to. We’re married, sure, but he knows it’s not really like that. He doesn’t owe me a damn thing.

And yet here he is, looking at me with total sincerity, and it swells my damn heart right up.

“I can’t promise I’ll be much help, but if you really want me involved, then I’m in.”

“Perfect.” He nods once like the deal is finished. “First step is finding a location.”

I walk over and raise my wine glass. We clink them together. “Here’s to new beginnings,” I say.

“No, baby, here’s to me and fucking you.”

“I can drink to that.”

Chapter 23

Alana

I stand outside the house, totally hesitating, not sure what the protocol is anymore. I used to live here—but I don’t anymore. Do I just walk right inside like nothing changed? Do I have to knock and request entrance, and what happens if Orsino answers and tells me to fuck off? In the end, I opt for barging right inside, because screw it, this house is still partly my house even if my stepfather sold me to the first willing buyer.

“Mom?” I call out and find her in the kitchen. We hug and she makes us tea as she chats about how the house has been without me around.

“That new husband is treating you right?” she asks and pretends like it’s no big deal, but I can tell she’s a little bit nervous.

“Carlo’s been great,” I say because I want to put her at ease. It’s also true, but I might not have put it like that if I weren’t worried she might have a meltdown otherwise.

“You two are getting along?”

“Honestly, I didn’t think we would, but things have been pretty decent.”

She brightens and throws her arms around me again. “Oh, Alana, I knew you’d be okay, I just knew it. I heard all these things about those Rossi men?—”

“What things?” I ask, interrupting. My heart starts racing because she hadn’t mentioned any of this before the wedding, which is real freaking convenient for her.

“Just that they’re vicious, you know? Bloodthirsty and violent. Especially your Carlo. I was a little worried?—”

I cut her off, jaw working. “You let me marry a guy you knew had a bad reputation and you didn’t say anything to me?”

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