Page 1 of Mafia Star

Chapter One

Marco

I’m standing next to my younger brother’s new sister-in-law of four hours. The elevator doors shut as Lorenzo and Michelle make their escape for their wedding night, leaving the smoking hot Elizabeth and me alone. We turn toward each other.

“It was a beautiful ceremony.”

Elizabeth doesn’t seem to know what to say, but she beats me to saying something.

“Everyone seems to be enjoying the reception, too.”

I offer her my arm to take her back to the ballroom. I suppose I’m trying to be charming. I did it as a joke earlier when I accompanied Elizabeth and Chelle back from the restroom. I’d extended my arm to Chelle, as the bride, to be gallant. Then I realized I’d be an ass to not do the same for Elizabeth. I say that now. But I think I was looking for an excuse to touch her.

I’d just like an excuse to touch her again. Chelle is definitely attractive, but not my type. She and Elizabeth look a lot alike, but her aura is completely different. Elizabeth’s more like Chelle’s best friend, Laura Kutsenko. Chelle’s approach is more subtle while Laura and Elizabeth exude control. That’s irony at its best since Laura is married to the head of the Russian bratva.

The reception is as much about our family celebrating this momentous occasion as it is our family and every other syndicate flexing their money, vying to be at the top of the New York underworld. The jewelry on both the men and women, the gowns the women wear, the general sense of affluence… All of us exude it to prove to the politer parts of society here that we are the ones they want to get into bed with. Nobody admits aloud that we’re what the rest of the world likely considers the rich dregs— yes, an oxymoron —of society.

But we’re the ones who make sure candidates we select get elected to public positions. We’re the ones who ensure private financiers have the money to lend their clients. We’re the ones who ensure the lower-level gangs and crime families understand their place and balance in this ecosystem where we— the Mancinellis —the Kutsenkos, the O’Rourkes, and the Diazes are the apex predators. Predators who left their guns at home tonight but are all carrying knives. We might not have a gunfight at a wedding reception, but no one wants to get stabbed on the way to our cars.

Elizabeth glances at my raised forearm before she takes it. If she weren’t my sister-in-law’s sister, I might try to get her drunk and take her home. So cliché, but like I said, she’s smoking hot. It’s been a long time since I’ve done a random hook-up or a one-night stand. I prefer to fuck women I know in the anonymity of my BDSM club. But I’d make an exception for Elizabeth if it wouldn’t piss the fuck out of my entire family if they found out. Which they would.

I glance at her and still feel like I need something to say. How am I so fucking at a loss for words? Here goes nothing.

“I think I may sleep all day tomorrow. It’s been crazy this week.”

Four days ago, Enzo and Chelle decided to get married. This reception is a sign of just how much influence we have. The reception at the St. Regis, designer gowns custom fit for all the women in the wedding party, and the crème de la crème in attendance.

As we enter the ballroom, my gaze sweeps the room. I know where every member of the mob, the Cartel, and the bratva are. I know where my other brother, Luca, is along with his wife, Olivia, and their baby. Petra is the easiest child in the world. She sleeps or laughs. I know where my sister, Maria, is with my best friend and her husband, Matteo. I know where Gabriele and Sinead, and Carmine and Serafina are. I know where my uncles, my aunts, and my parents are. It’s habit. I will never walk into a room without knowing my surroundings, and I will never enter a room where my family is without ensuring they’re safe.

“Yeah. I don’t think I’m going to last. I’m going to grab my purse and wrap then get an Uber.”

That makes me stop so fast it jerks Elizabeth’s arm.

“No, you’re not.”

She arches an eyebrow at me, and I realize how that sounded.

“I meant you can take one of our town cars home. We have enough, so you can have a driver. It’s two in the morning in New York City, and you are dressed far too nicely and far too beautiful for someone not to notice. You’re a target.”

She stiffens, and now it’s her turn to sweep her gaze around the room.

“I didn’t mean any of the families. I meant some creep who’ll try to mug you, or worse.”

The families. She’s vicariously a member now, so she knows who I mean. I don’t know how much Laura or Chelle have told her, but she’s a smart woman. She’s figured shit out.

“Thank you for the offer, but I can wait in the lobby until the car arrives. Then it’ll take me straight to my building’s driveway. I’ll be fine.”

My gaze roams over her body, lingering places her gown compliments far too well before I focus back on her eyes. It’s my turn to cock an eyebrow. I purposely made my expression lascivious. I didn’t expect her to blush. I expected her to glare. I soften my tone to the one I use when I’m scening with a woman at my club. The deceptively quiet one.

“Take the offer, Elizabeth. Otherwise, I will share that ride with you. You are not leaving here without someone I trust. Decide. Me or one of our drivers.”

It surprises me when she hesitates.

“Thank you. Please ask one of your men to drive me home.”

I admit I’m disappointed. Sharing the seat of some tiny Prius would have been better than going home alone in my own town car. But it wouldn’t have come to anything physical. Everything about her draws me to her. Her bearing, her smile, her voice, the way her gaze can pin me in place. There are few women who can do the latter.

I escort her back to the head table, where she gathers her things. She says goodbye to her parents and brother before saying goodbye and thanking my family. I’ve already gotten Luigi’s attention. I step next to Luca as she makes her rounds.

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