Page 35 of Betraying the Mafia Boss

“I need to find a way to meet Vincent’s brothers.” I let out an exasperated sigh. “If I can meet them, maybe I can get them to trust me.”

She snorts. “I know you’re desperate, but don’t be delusional. Vincent’s brothers are nothing like him, they’re even more scary than Elio. They’ll never trust you.”

“Then their wives, I heard they’re married. Maybe I can—” She cuts me off before I can finish.

“You stand a better chance getting close to the brothers than their wives.” She puts down her coffee. “The eldest brother, Dominic, his wife is the CEO of a multi-million-dollar baby care company. The middle brother, Marcus? His wife is an ex-detective and she runs an art gallery now. She’s the detective who took down the former head of the Camorra. She’ll see through you before you even get a chance.”

“I’ll take my chances with the brothers and their wives. The one with the art gallery sounds like a good catch.”

“You’re playing with fire, but for what it’s worth, I know a way you can meet with the Romano brothers.” She winks at me. “One of the benefits of clubbing every Friday. You get to meet people and hear about people too.”

I don’t care about clubbing on Fridays, but I’m desperate for the information she has. “How?”

“The brothers meet at one of their clubs in Hell’s Kitchen every Friday night.”

I smile. “How accessible are they to the public?”

“The whole place is usually tight with security. We have to come up with a way for you to get them to notice you.” Her eyes meet mine and I’m hoping she’s not thinking what I think she’s about to say. She throws her hand up. “No, not that. I’d never suggest for you to try and seduce them. Plus, they’re all faithful to their wives, you’d have no luck even if you tried.”

I wasn’t going to try.

Since that night in the storage room with Vincent—since the night he kissed me and fucked me, I’m certain I’d be filled with disgust if any other man so much as lays a finger on me.

Vincent.

My heart sinks, a wave of melancholy hits me. I can’t believe I’m doing this, can’t believe I’ll have to sell him out to his enemy.

I close my eyes, his image flashing behind my eyelids. I imagine those cloudless blue eyes not flirting or crinkling at me but darkening from my betrayal and with pain. The thought that he will someday look at me with nothing but hatred in his eyes drags over my chest like barbwire. I hate my luck. I hate I’m entangled in this mess I didn’t create. I open my eyes, the darkness replaced by the stark reality of my decision. I need to be selfish if I’m to have any luck escaping this mess.

Naomi's mischievous glance doesn’t match the weight of the emotions weighing me down.

So, I’m aiming for the brothers first. This plan is risky, but it's the only lifeline I have for my Nana and for me.

“Okay, Naomi. Tell me how we can get into that club and make sure they notice me without resorting to seduction,” I say, my interest piqued despite the trepidation beating at my brain.

Naomi smirks, her mind already brewing schemes. “First, we need to gather some information on the mafia. You need to know what would interest them to want to have a conversation with you to begin with.”

I nod my head in agreement. “What do you know about the club?”

“It’s in Hell’s Kitchen,” she replies. “You’ll meet all sorts of rich criminals and drug lords there.”

“Perfect. But I’m not going there for the other criminals and drug lords.”

“No, you’re not. Just saying.” Naomi smirks, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “But you shouldn’t let your guard down. If they suspect anything then you’re as good as dead.”

I roll my eyes. “I thought the Cosa Nostra don’t hurt women.”

“No, they don’t. Not without good reason.” She drinks some of her coffee. “But if they think you’re dangerous, then they’ll torture the truth out of you.”

Terror shoots down my spine. Now, that’s something I don’t want to contemplate.

“Now, once you’re inside, you need to blend in. Look for an opportunity to catch their attention without raising suspicion. It could be a crowded dance floor or a quieter corner where they're having a conversation. Gauge the situation and act accordingly,” Naomi advises, her eyes narrowing in concentration.

“Subtle but noticeable. Got it,” I repeat, envisioning myself navigating the crowded club with cautious grace. Adrenaline fills my veins. I’ve always gotten high off adrenaline.

“And don’t forget, you’re there for a reason. Act confident but not too eager. Play it cool,” Naomi adds. “Also, don’t dress like you’re a whore who’s out to have sex and get paid.”

“So, I should dress like a responsible whore?”

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