Page 8 of Stolen Sin

“Want to be a little less vague?” Her eyebrows raise at me.

I let out a long breath. “It’s what Dad’s been saying all this time. He wants me to be more serious. He wants me to step up and prove I’m ready. Well, I can give him one thing he’s been wanting for a long time. I can get married and start pumping out kids.”

Elena stares at me then bursts out laughing. She pauses, doubled over, and slaps the hood of a random car. I’m not even sure who parked it there. I glare at her and wait until she’s done.

“Are you kidding me? You, get married? Simon, your longest relationship is with your right hand. Don’t stand there and tell me you’re going to get married and have children.”

I’m tempted to throw my shoe at her. “Davide did it.”

“Dad forced him to, and it just happened to work out. Why do you think that’ll happen for you?” She wipes tears from her eyes and slaps my shoulder. “Come on, think of something else. The marriage-and-kids thing is pretty good and Dad would like it, but it’s not going to happen.”

She walks off, still laughing to herself. I stop on the stoop of my house and glare at my sister, annoyed that she finds my idea so fucking funny, but I understand her reaction.

I’ve never been with a woman for more than a night. Why bother when my family name can get me any piece of ass in the city?

Things are different now. I’m not twenty-three anymore, and the Famiglia needs me to step the fuck up and do something about our situation. Dad’s spiraling and the war with Santoro’s coming, whether he likes it or not, and if getting married and having kids proves that I’m stable and ready for leadership, then I’ll fucking do it.

And I already have the perfect girl in mind.

Chapter 5

Emily

I half expect Ethan to throw me out on my ass when I show up for my shift at Cucina Amore, but it’s like nothing happened the night before. He only gives me a look like he’s never seen me before then assigns me some tables and throws me to the wolves like usual, and I don’t mind one bit.

Rachel’s working too. Apparently, she made up with Danny after their fight the night before, and he put hands on her once again, but this time she says it with a big wink and a huge grin, which I guess means Danny’s magic dick solved all their problems. Good for them. I’m not super into joking about domestic violence, and I wish she’d dump that freaking asshole, but she’s the sort of person that has to get to there on her own. I’m here when she’s ready though.

The tips are good tonight. Maybe it’s because I rolled the dice and wore a lower-cut dress than usual. After seeing my father’s empty refrigerator, I’m doubly motivated to earn as much spare cash as possible. Though if I’m being honest with myself, maybe I dressed a little sexier than usual because I kept thinking about Mr. Bianco and those big hands of his, that low voice, those gorgeous eyes, the perfect stubble on his chiseled jaw, his plump red lips ripe for riding.

I’m at the lowest point of my life, and I’m pretty sure the bank’s going to foreclose on my childhood home, but I somehow have time to fantasize about an attractive stranger.

I still don’t get why he covered for me. Everyone in that room knew I was lying about cleaning the floor, and the way Ethan talked to Mr. Bianco made it seem like he was some serious hotshot.

And yet he let me go.

Now I want to see him again. Him and his sex bag.

But those are thoughts for another version of me. Somewhere in the space-time continuum, maybe in an alternate universe, there’s a version of me that got her shit together after high school and went to college, that didn’t float from one dead-end job to the next, only to find herself desperately fighting to take care of her elderly father. Maybe that version is happy and has friends, and maybe that version can spend a little excess energy dreaming about steamy one-night stands with hot-as-sin rich guys.

That’s not me though.

All I get is sore feet and an aching back and older every day.

It’s a decent night though, all things considered. Rachel talks my ear off about how Danny promised to take her on vacation to Disney—horror of horrors, those two stuck at Disney for an entire week—and the tips continue to roll in. I get some friendly, appreciative looks from my male customers, and those looks are mostly aimed at my boobs, which is fine, that’s what they’re there for, and all in all I find myself with a decent wad of cash at the end of the evening.

I’m closing, like always, and there’s a part of me—psychotic, insane, unhinged, deranged—that wishes Mr. Bianco would show up again. Maybe I could crawl into the office and try to steal from the cash bag again, except I’m pretty sure I can’t get away with that twice. No, a bank robbery is in my near future.

“Night, girl,” Rachel says out front as Ethan locks the doors. He nods and heads off to his car, walking with his hands shoved in his pockets. Rachel gives me a quick hug. “I’m going home, making Danny rub my feet, and drinking an entire bottle of wine.”

“Lucky you. I’m going home, passing out, and waking up in approximately four hours for my next shift.”

Rachel sighs and gives me another, tighter hug. “It’ll get better,” she whispers. She knows something’s up with my family finances, but I haven’t given her all the details. If she knew how bad it was, she wouldn’t say something so patently wrong.

I watch her head off into the night before walking to my car. I’m parked on the far side of the lot, and there’s a part of me that’s disappointed.

I wanted to see Mr. Bianco again. I wanted him to swoop into the restaurant with his black duffel bag slung over one shoulder only to drag me by the arm into the back alley. I wanted him to proposition me, spend a night with me and find out exactly what I use this kinky stash for. I wanted him to fist my hair and kiss me and ravish me up against the wall of the alley, and maybe he could shove the gag in my mouth or tie my hands behind my back, just a little casual play, that’s all, not asking too much.

Instead, I’m back to my normal life.

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