Page 13 of Unforgivable Ties

“Of course you’re not,” she scoffed, leaning back onto her worn-out kitchen counter. “The only thing you seem committed to is illegal activity.”

“Hey, I told that rich prick I was your boyfriend,” I said, pivoting the conversation back to my proposal. “When I picked you up from school.”

She clicked her tongue at me and gave me a disapproving look. “So?”

“That makes you my first serious relationship. You’re coming on a date with me.”

“But you lie-” she protested, but I cut her off.

“Be ready at six, Doc.”

At seven o’clock, we stepped into Ambrosia, one of the most upscale restaurants in NYC. It was near impossible to get a reservation here, unless you had connections. And I had many of those.

“How did you get a reservation here?” Stephanie asked. “I thought it was impossible.”

Stephanie always looked gorgeous, but the outfit she had chosen for tonight was almost too much to handle. My eyes trailed over her figure, admiring the way the fabric of her dress hugged her curves and accentuated every inch of her body. The slit in the side showed off a hint of her toned leg with each step. Her hair cascaded down her back in soft waves and her makeup was flawlessly done.

It took all my self control to keep from reaching out and dragging her to the bathroom, pushing her dress up and bending her over so I could—What the fuck? Those were not thoughts I should be having about her. She was way too young for me.

Stephanie was just some college chick I hired to take care of a problem the mafia was having. Nothing more.

I willed my half hard cock to go down as I hooked my arm in hers. The man we were meeting really branded himself as a family man, so it was important Stephanie and I looked like we were in a serious relationship.

“This place is so nice,” Stephanie marveled, her eyes wide. “I’ve never stepped foot in a place so nice.”

It was one of the nicest places in NYC. The walls were adorned with stunning original art pieces; the hushed murmurs of culturally refined guests filled the chandelier-studded restaurant; the French cuisine was hailed as some of the best in the world. A pianist playing soft, soothing melodies added to the ambiance.

“Oh my god, Vincenzo,” Stephanie said, trying not to freak out. “That’s Theo Merrick. He’s the main character in one of my TV shows!”

“You cannotapproach celebrities in here,” I said sternly. “And don’t gawk.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said sadly, averting her gaze from the actor.

I gave the hostess our name, and she led us to our table. Vito “The Serpent” Calabrese and his wife had already been seated and were sipping their champagne. Vito was a broad, solid man with dark hair graying at the temples and eyes like chips of ice. I had met his wife once before—she had been trained to adopt the air of quiet elegance. She would mostly stay silent, but knew the correct moments to speak.

“Vincenzo,” Vito greeted me with a firm handshake. His voice was gravelly, like the roll of thunder in the distance. “And this must be the charming companion you spoke of.”

Stephanie smiled politely, extending her hand out to be shaken. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Calabrese.”

She said it so confidently for someone who had just got thrown into the underbelly of the mafia world. I felt a surge of pride but quickly swallowed it down.

“The pleasure is mine,” Vito replied, raising Stephanie’s hand to his lips in a display of old-world chivalry. He then gestured to the woman beside him. “And this is my wife, Maria.”

Maria nodded and smiled, her lips making a muted mauve curve against the paleness of her face. Her dark eyes scanned Stephanie from top to bottom, as if sizing her up, then she extended a hand adorned with a diamond ring big enough to choke on. “My dear.”

“You’re not Italian,” Vito said, as if he were talking about the weather. “How did you two meet?”

“Stephanie works for Cesare,” I replied, glancing at Stephanie. “She’s a med student.”

“Ah, that’s a lot of work for a student to take on. You must be very talented,” Vito said, looking at Stephanie.

“I’m pretty good,” she replied shyly.

“Don’t be modest,” I responded. “She’s the best in her class.”

While looking into Stephanie, I had discovered she was the top of her class. Her sharp mind and impressive academic achievements were evident in every conversation we had, making it easy to see why she was so highly regarded by her peers and professors alike.

Vito let out a hearty laugh. “That’s the spirit, my boy! I like that. You’ve got a good woman here, Vincenzo. Don’t you ever let her go.”

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