Page 23 of Third Degree

“Hello.” Her melodic voice echoed in the oversized room like a symphony. “My name is Gianna.” She reached out to shake my hand, and I offered her an upturn of my lips.

“Buonasera(Good evening).”

She laughed, knowing this was a secret we held together.

I pulled out the seat next to her and an array of food was passed around the table. I noted the two guards standing on the other side of the table.

With the knowing glance that no one was behind us, I slipped my hand on Gianna’s thigh, offering her a slight squeeze. She looked over at me and giggled into her food.

While the conversation and laughter swirled around the table, we indulged in this intimate game of touch concealed beneath the shelter of the tablecloth. Our secret rendezvous beneath the table spoke volumes, each subtle caress evoking a whirlwind of desire and anticipation.

As the flavors of the exquisite cuisine danced upon our palates, our bodies engaged in their tantalizing dance of sensuality.

Our fingers brushed delicately, tracing invisible patterns along the contours of each other’s skin. The electricity between us crackled, a silent symphony of unspoken desires and shared passion.

“We should talk business,” her father exclaimed after one too many glasses of wine and bowls of Pasta alla Norma.

“We shall. Are we going to excuse the ladies?” I looked around. Customarily, the women left the conversation.

Angelo laughed. “No, the women don’t care. It is merely business, and you are no enemy of ours.” His eyes narrowed on mine.

“Of course he is not,” the uncle jeered, trying to cut the tension in the room.

“Let’s talk then.” I pulled my hand away from Gianna’s and leaned back into my chair, ready for whatever groveling they needed me to do to get back to the club.

“I think you know why you are here.” Angelo stared down at me. His demeanor changed from jovial to something of a more serious tone.

“You need me back fronting at the club,” I responded.

“Yes.”

“And why would I do such a thing?” I looked over at Gianna, who was now intently darting her eyes between her father and myself.

“Because you are part of the family and—”

“Not yours,” I interrupted and shook my head.

“No, not ours, but of our good friend Ricardo’s,” the uncle butted in.

“Again, what do I owe your family?” I sat back in the chair and slipped my hand under the table, giving Gianna’s thigh another little squeeze.

Angelo’s eyes narrowed on mine.

“What do you want, Elio?”

I turned toward Gianna, pulling my hand away from hers and setting them both on the table.

“You like living with your family?” I asked her, and her eyes looked like they were going to burn holes into mine.

She simply nodded at me. I smiled a mysterious grin. She was going to be so pissed.

“You plan on living with them forever?” I pressed.

This time, Angelo slammed his hands onto the table.

“Whatever you are trying to play at, Elio, leave my daughter out of it.”

“No,” she squeaked, the confidence somewhat growing beneath her.

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