Page 2 of Royally Embraced: RBMC

With a slight shake of her head, she took a deep breath, tucking the tray beneath her arm. “Can I get anything else for you, gentlemen?” She directed her question at the group but didn’t look at anyone in particular in the eyes. There was brutality in Grigori’s dark-as-night gaze. A warning to those who fucked with him, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill. She’d witnessed the same expression in her stepfather’s dark stare every day until she’d left.

Grigori waved her away with his free hand without a word. She noticed he wore a large ring on his right hand, but it was his freshly busted-up knuckles she worked hard not to stare and draw attention to.

The other men murmured amongst themselves, yet none lifted their glasses. The Boss hadn’t lifted his, or maybe they were waiting for him to toast or her to leave. Vittoria was more than happy to oblige the latter.

She noticed a few men still held their cigar stubs in their hands while a couple kept them in their mouths. Fucking gross. Okay, she might be a little prejudiced due to the fact she grew up in New York as the step-daughter to the Boss of one of the five Families. The men in her world liked to use whatever was at their disposal to dish out punishments and pain. A lit cigar hurt when put out on a body, and the smell of burning flesh was noxious.

A shudder wracked her frame, but she rubbed her arms as if it were the cold as she went to the patio doors and checked to ensure they were closed. It wouldn’t be good if they saw her rattled. She kept her head high but not too high. Another rule was not to ever act like you were better than them.

“I’ll be back to check on you shortly. If you need anything before that, don’t hesitate to call out,” she said. Her tone was even yet not inviting. If her heart beat any harder or faster shemight have a damn heart attack or possibly pass the fuck out. That would not be a good look.

The cell for the bar buzzed in her back pocket. She looked toward the group and then pulled the earbud out. “Hoolihans.”

“Hey, Vittoria. How’s it going?” Cian Hoolihan asked.

If he had been there in person, Vittoria thought she might have flipped him the bird or kicked him in the dick eye. Cian owned Hoolihan’s with his wife Kendra and several other family members.

She waited until she was back behind the bar with the men in full view.

“It’s going great, Cian. The fucking Mafia is here, and they decided to do a little redecorating. You know your recently refurbished hardwood floors? Well, it has a new red stain. Oh, there might be some new holes in the walls that we can just pop some family pictures up to cover. No biggie. And did I mention the sweet scent of tobacco, wood, and spices has infiltrated all the gorgeous leather seating you recently added, thanks to the cigar smoke?” she asked in a hushed whisper, keeping her eye on the men in the back as she spoke.

“What the fuck, Vittoria. Are you okay?” Cian asked, worry filtering through the phone.

She closed her eyes, feeling like a bitch. “I’m lying, Cy. I just delivered the first round of drinks, but they give me the creeps. You know they booked this as a private party, right? Who the fuck took this booking without vetting it?”

There was a long beat of silence. “Tori, I was unaware of who had booked the pub until about five minutes ago when I checked the security footage. I’ve been on the phone with my brothers trying to find out who the fuck took the booking. You know at least two of us, not one of our employees, have always handled that shit.”

She could usually tell if a person was lying if they were in the same space as her, and sometimes when she listened to them speak. At Cian’s admission, her gut said he was being truthful. “What did you find out?”

Again, there was a long pause. Sweat pooled between her breasts even though it was cold as shit outside. Plus, they kept the pub a nice cool sixty-nine degrees, which gave her no reason to sweat other than her nervousness.

“Dammit, Cian.”

“The booking was done online. It’s a new feature we added after the renovation that obviously needs to be tweaked or deleted. I know saying the word sorry doesn’t cover this screwup, honey. Kendra is going to have my nuts for this.” He sighed. “They paid by credit card, but it was one of those prepaid ones that didn’t set off any of the keywords we set for alarms. Basically, it was untraceable, and we fucked up,” he growled.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and clenched her teeth. “Of course it was. So, how much longer before one of you is here?” If there was a quiver in her voice, she ignored it. Why did Grigori Rizzo and his men close Hoolihan’s for a private meeting? She didn’t know. Nor did she want to. Asking questions was the quickest way to get yourself hurt or worse, killed. Men like Mr. Rizzo didn’t always just put a bullet between someone’s eyes or slice their throat. No, they liked to play with their prey, but Vittoria had no plans to become anyone’s prey.

“I’m watching, as are the others. We’re within minutes of you should anything happen,” Cian reassured her.

Vittoria shook her head, knowing there was no use in pleading for them to hurry. He was wrong if he thought he or the others could save her. If any of the men wanted to harm her, they would do it without blinking an eye.

She felt eyes on her. The hair on her neck stood up, letting her know danger was near.

“I gotta go,” she said and disconnected the call. After tonight, she was quitting. Fuck this shit. Fuck extra money for her last semester so she could take the summer off. She’d eat the meals on her meal plan through her scholarship. Her last semester was literally all online, so it wasn’t like she needed much. Hell, she could probably buy a dozen cases of Ramen noodles and some bottled water and survive until graduation day. Maybe she’d lose that twenty pounds her step-father and brother constantly told her was unattractive.

“The Boss wants another round,” the large man growled.

While Grigori scared the ever-loving crap out of her because he had the power to instruct any of the men around him to do his bidding, or he’d do it himself, and nobody would blink an eye. The man before her had brutality stamped on every ounce of his stern, scarred face. He was handsome, but good God, he was not a man she wanted to cross or really do anything with. Nodding, she began lining up the shot glasses. He didn’t turn to go back, his unblinking stare unnerving her while she pulled another bottle of Absolut out of the freezer. On the reservation, they’d requested four chilled and unopened bottles to be available—all prepaid.

She prepared and placed the shots of top-shelf vodka on the tray, then made their Bulleit Bourbon drinks. Why men liked the throat-burning liquor, she had no clue.

“Ricky, get your ass back here and quit making the girl nervous. She spills our drinks, and you’ll be paying,” Grigori said loud enough for her to hear, but it wasn’t a yell. His voice boomed, sending more shivers of fear through her. Yeah, she couldn’t continue working at Hoolihan's. She'd lived in fear from age three until she'd left New York at eighteen. Escaping in the dead of night with little to nothing but a bag of clothes and a horde of cash she'd stolen. The money belonged to her stepfather, who was every bit as deadly as the men she wasserving drinks to. His stepfather and he thought they owned her. They both share the same qualities in so many ways. Good lord, she could only imagine what Gino Masseria would do if he ever found her. He'd force her to marry some man of his choosing, like some old fuck, or kill her. Either choice was a nightmare, in her opinion.

Four years of freedom, and bam, it felt like she landed right back in the pits of Hell again. All because she was face-to-face with men like her own family. Only these were not The Masseria Family, she had to remind herself.

She finished filling the order and returned to the group of men, repeating the same steps. She sat Grigori's two in front of him, jerking as his hand grabbed her wrist.

“What happened here, girl?” he asked, turning her wrist up and running his thumb over the circular scars on the inside.

---