Page 7 of Wild Ace

“Atlantic City?”

“Yeah, I love this place. It’s my city. My grandparents came over from Italy and settled here. It’s where they put their roots down and where I grew, I guess. I haven’t felt the need to leave. Plus, my grandfather owns a deli in town.”

“Don’t tell me it’s Manzato’s?”

“It is. You know it?”

“This is my city too, and I’m Italian. Of course I know it. They have my favorite sandwich of all time.”

“Let me guess…the soppressata?”

“Yes!” He laughs, grinning. “Your grandfather won’t tell me how he makes that spicy red pepper spread that’s on it. How did you know?”

“It’s my favorite, too.”

His smile grows even wider. “Huh, well then, I might just be stopping by sooner than I thought for one. I’ve talked to your grandfather many times when I’ve been in. He’s a good man.”

The fact that he knows and likes my nonno does something to my chest, and I have the urge to rub the spot above my heart, but I hold back. “He is, and he loves talking to everyone who walks through his doors. You haven’t been in a little while, though, have you? I would have remembered you.”

“Do you work there?”

“I always helped out growing up, but I’ve been helping him more full-time for the past five months. He had a little fall in September and tore his ACL. He had to have surgery, so I put school on hold to help him until he was back on his feet.”

“You just dropped everything to help him?”

“Well, yeah, he’s family, and one of only two people I have left to call family. I would do anything for him.”

“Family is important to me, too.” Vinny takes a sip of his amber liquid and something in his eyes shifts the longer I look in them.

“Yes, I see that. You and your brother are a team when you go out and hit on women in a club.”

“Only when he comes down from the city.” He winks. “And this isn’t just a club. It’s mine. This whole place is. My family’s, that is. I run The Aces with my cousin.”

I’m momentarily stunned, my drink mid-air to my mouth. “This is your club? This is your casino?”

His lips quirk up in a smirk and his gaze darkens. “It is.” His lifts his glass to his lips and takes a long drink, with his tongue gliding over his bottom one to catch an escaped drop of whiskey.

He’s a Carfano.

The Carfanos own this casino.

I definitely wasn’t picturing a man like him when I thought I’d run into the mafia at The Aces. He’s certainly not an old fat Italian man with slicked back hair, a cigar, and a pinky ring. I don’t think he’s even thirty yet. He’s sexy as hell, but that doesn’t mean I should get involved with him. In fact, it means I really shouldn’t get involved with him. Even for a night. I can see myself liking him too much. Plus, the sexy mafia bad boy combination is one that spells trouble with a side of heartbreak.

“I should go,” I tell him, placing my drink down on the bar and stepping away.

“Wait,” he says, his hand capturing my wrist, halting me.

I look down at where his fingers are wrapped around me and then up into his eyes, feeling that current flowing between us again. “This isn’t a good idea,” I tell him, my words steeped in regret.

“You know who I am?” he asks pointedly, putting it all out there. I nod. “And that scares you? Knowing who I am?” His eyes turn guarded when I don’t answer right away. “I can see that it does, but it shouldn’t.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” I say after a beat, and I mean it. He hasn’t done anything that has caused me to feel frightened or weary, and I’d like to keep it that way.

Vinny rubs his thumb back and forth against my inner wrist and my pulse quickens. “Prove it,” he challenges, the look in his eyes turning mischievous. “Stay.”

Everything in me wants to, but I need a second to breathe without inhaling his intoxicating scent that’s clouding my decision-making skills.

Looking away, I clear my throat. “Is there a restroom up here?”

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