Page 81 of Third Degree

I gently opened the door and walked into the sitting room. Elio was standing over at the bar with a freshly poured gin in his hand. He paused when he saw me walk in, and he put the gin down before practically running toward me. Quickly, he wrapped me in his arms.

“Holy shit.” There were no other words. He merely pressed his mouth ravenously to mine. He was hungry, and not for dinner. But I think I was hungry, too.

The way he looked in a pair of black slacks and a dark button-down was sleek, yet his presence was intimidating. He rolled the sleeves up so you could see the outline of his ink. I hadn’t realized until last night just how much of his body was tattooed.

If I had to compare him to Alex and Julian, he had the raw, primal look of Julian but the heart of Alex… deep inside. He also spoke in a way that commanded a room very much like Alex did.

“Come on, or we will never make it to dinner.” I laughed at his attempt to hold me tighter as I tried to escape.

“What if I want dessert first?” His grin was so wide.

We walked hand in hand down to the lobby, and I realized that we hadn’t even left this room in twenty-four hours. It felt like it had been days, though unbelievably, it was just yesterday when the shitstorm rained down on me.

He pulled me into a town car and then rattled off directions to the driver.

“Where are we going?” I asked, biting my lip as I gazed out the windows.

“A steakhouse overlooking the Chicago River. It is my favorite when I come to the city.”

I looked at him, surprised.

“What?” he said, raising a brow.

“I didn’t realize you had come to Chicago before.” I barely went out to the city myself and preferred to stay in the suburbs.

We drove down Lower Wacker Drive underneath the city and it reminded me of being in one of those high-speed chase videos just as we pulled out of the tunnel-like street and onto Michigan Avenue.

“We have done business many times over the years with your family, Gianna,” Elio explained.

We both stared at the high-rise buildings with the twinkling lights in the distance. The city was massive, but it was so easy to feel small and minute here.

I paused, thinking of his words. I guess I didn’t realize how often he came here. It was wild how we probably had run into each other when I was younger and didn’t even know it.

We soon pulled up to the restaurant by the river. From what I could see, it was small yet a modern, sleek structure. The driverpulled us right toward the door as a valet came to open our side first. Elio held the door open for me as we walked inside.

It was beautiful, full of warm, dim lighting that cast a soft glow over the wooden fixtures and richly decorated interior. The old-school charm of the steakhouse was evident in every detail, from the polished brass accents to the plush leather upholstery of the booths.

We were swiftly escorted to a table near the large windows overlooking the magnificent Chicago River.

The view was breathtaking, with the sparkling lights of the city reflecting on the water’s surface. The gentle hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses created a lively ambience, adding to the inviting atmosphere of the restaurant. We had been seated away from everyone else, which made it almost feel like the restaurant was just for us.

Once we had sat down, I leaned over the table and whispered, “If I didn’t know what you did for work, I would have thought you brought me here straight out of a mobster movie.” I laughed, but Elio’s brows furrowed.

“You don’t like it?”

“No. No.” I laughed again, loving the fact that he was now hyperaware of letting me make choices. “It’s nice. It’s just got a very old-school vibe.”

He looked around and realized what I was saying before emitting a small laugh from his lips.

“I won’t call anyone else Daddy here… Daddy.” I rolled the last word for emphasis, the grin widening on my face.

Elio’s hooded green eyes looked right into mine.

“You’d better not call anyone else that. I am your one and only.”

The waiter came over moments later, and Elio ordered a gin for himself before turning toward me.

“What do you want, amore?” he asked. He was trying. He was truly and really trying for me.

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