What the heck was he doing there so late?
I set my phone on the nightstand and pulled the blankets up over me, getting comfy and planning to attempt sleep when I knew I was going to do anything but. All I could think about was what Tobias could be doing there this late at night and if he was with James. Maybe this is when they have their little secret mob meetings. Tobias said he wasn’t in the mafia. Honestly, I’m not even sure how accurate the mafia is. Is that still really a thing? I felt like I was too sheltered to know, but what I did know was that I had really bad feelings about all of this.
Chapter Five
James
The blaring music calms me as I walk through the crowd of people gyrating against each other like wild animals. I like music and welcome the distraction of the beat, keeping time with it in my mind as I weave through hundreds of people who make me feel suffocated. A woman steps in front of me and drops her arms around my neck, moving her hips suggestively toward me. I swallow hard and peel her arms off me, gently tossing her to the side as I continue through my club. I didn’t need to look at her. I always knew that whatever woman approached me in such a way was never what I wanted. It happened more times than I cared for every time I came here and walked freely about.
I didn’t date, nor did I sleep around. I didn’t care for it and frankly, I felt too old for it these days. I was uninterested in any woman that came my way. They only cared about one thing, and it wasn’t me, that’s for sure.
I take the staircase to the top floor, where my personal booth is. I’ve owned my club, Underground, for over five years now. Not only was it good for me to invest my money into something else, but it presented an opportunity for me to do most ofmy under-the-table work that provided nothing but distractions around us. No one at the club is typically focused on doing business or concentrates on the ones who are. They’re too busy getting drunk or doing drugs in the bathroom before pressing their body against someone else’s on the dance floor. They would never even know the work I was doing behind the curtain just upstairs, and even if they did, they could never be entirely sure. The dark lighting and overly loud music mixed with their drinking solidified that fact.
Tobias is already at the booth waiting with Alessandro Barone, one of our clients who just so happens to be a made man working for his boss, Stefano Luccio, someone I consider a brother more than a friend.
I sit at the table and level my gaze with Alessandro’s focused one. “All is well?”
He nods. “As long as everything we’ve discussed is in order.”
“I assure you everything will be in order the second we receive payment. Tobias will hand-deliver your items by tomorrow afternoon.”
Alessandro glances at Tobias. “You’re the delivery boy, huh?”
Tobias grins, a low chuckle leaving him. “The one to be trusted with your large investment? Yes. I’ll make sure you’re satisfied when I leave.” His tone is teasing, and I can’t help but smile in pride at his confidence and all-around playful demeanor. He does have a habit of making people uncomfortable with his all-around flirtatiousness. His confidence in himself knew no bounds. I’ve always enjoyed that specific quality about him.
Alessandro shifts in his seat uncomfortably and directs his gaze back on me. “I have five girls. My wife and our four daughters. I don’t want to be disappointed.”
“They won’t be. You have excellent taste.”
Tobias glances at me as he retakes the lead. We had a system to ensure all our underground deals went smoothly and successfully. I had a way of encouraging the buyer in their purchases, making them feel good about their decision. The second my praise persuades them, Tobias closes the deal exactly as he’s been taught.
“On that note,” Tobias interjects, sliding that little black book of mine across the table and opening it toward the back. “If I could just get your signature on this line right here next to your total amount, we’ll be ready.”
Alessandro’s gaze bounced between him and me before he took the pen and signed it. “You know, Luccio seems to trust you more than anyone.” His hard eyes met mine again as he shut the book and slid it back across the table to Tobias. “I’m counting on that trust, Mr. Kingston.”
“You’re in safe hands, Mr. Barone. I promise you that.”
He nods again. “The money will be wired within the hour.” I knew the payment wouldn’t be an issue, so I took his word for it, shaking his outstretched hand. One thing I always liked about the Cosa Nostra is their appreciation and respect for the jewelry industry. They respected me and what I did and always paid the deserved price. It was always business done well. “Pleasure doing business with you,” Alessandro adds.
“The pleasure’s all—” A figure in the crowd near us catches my attention, and I narrow my gaze on her as her waves of long black curls whip around her. She was walking through the crowd away from our table now, but I knew who it was. “Mine,” I growl, my eyes tracking her every step.
I glance at Tobias, who hasn’t noticed a damn thing. He always focused on the business before him, whereas I’ve always focused on our surroundings. “Excuse me,” I ground out. I should probably let Tobias handle this, but he needed to be focused on the job, making his own connections and buildingtrust with our clients if he was ever going to make it in my business. So, for now, I had to handle the little wench myself.
I stand from the table and head back towards the staircase, where I see her frame weaving in and out of the people like she was in a hurry to get away. I go down the stairs and follow her into the crowd. She goes to the bar and plops down on the stool, her back still facing me, and I take a moment to observe her before I pounce.
Her hair was wild and down her back again in those thick black curls. Her attire wasn’t what most women wear here, which is probably what drew my gaze to her in the first place back at the table. My club was more high-end, meaning men wore suits or nice button-downs, and the women wore classy dresses. Despite some being short enough to show their ass, you could tell they were expensive and elegantly styled.
But little Cecilia wore a short, strapless black mini dress with a fuchsia butterfly printed across the chest and stomach and knee-high black heeled boots. It showed a decent amount of cleavage, which was enough to still gain the attention of passing men despite being clearly tacky compared to the other dresses around.
I move toward her now and sit on the stool next to her. The bartender immediately nods at me and begins making my usual drink, but she still hasn’t noticed me yet. Her body faces the other direction as she sips her glittery drink and looks out into the atmosphere, so I observe her profile as she does. I look past her mane and track the height of her cheekbones and the round swell of her lips, making it look like she didn’t have a cupid’s bow. It was all curve, and I found myself utterly distracted by it for a moment before she turned back towards me and jumped in her seat the moment she saw me.
“Holy Jesus,” she mutters, clutching her chest.
“I can assure you there is nothing holy about me, Cecilia. At least not right now.” She gives an awkward laugh, and I glare at her. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean? This is a public place.”
“This ismyplace. What are you doing here?”