Page 3 of The Deal

Turning before I have a change of heart, I glide through the revolving glass doors and step into the hotel lobby. The rubber on the sole of my shoes squeaks against the marble floor as I cross the opulent foyer with purpose, and enter what I can only surmise by its location: the ridiculously expensive, chic cocktail lounge.

My head is held high, gaze fixed ahead. I side-eye the women I was watching through the window as I pass, but I intentionally don’t seek out the suit-clad hottie … that’s not why I came in here.

Once I settle onto a stool at the bar, I order a drink I can’t afford, and for a brief moment, guilt stirs inside me, but I push it down. I’m going to savour this cocktail. After all the sacrifices I’ve made over the years, I’ve earned this.

I’ll worry about the fallout later.

Chapter 2

Alexander

My eyes remain locked on the woman in the window.She’s stunning.I’m not one to stare, usually avoiding making eye contact with strangers for any length of time, but there’s something about her that draws me in.

It’s been a while since someone has captured my attention like this. I’m around beautiful women daily, so my reaction to her is perplexing.

I’m not sure what that look on her face was as she gazed at the patrons inside the bar, but if I’m not mistaken, it seemed like longing. For what? I have no idea, but it tugged at something deep inside me.

There’s something eerily familiar about this woman—as if I know her from somewhere—but she has one of those faces that’s not easily forgotten.

Her reaction when she realised I’d been watching her watch the couple seated near me, was oddly comforting. The vulnerability in her eyes and the way her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink only seemed to draw me in further. I got the impression that she rarely lets people see what lies below the surface, and I can relate to that.

Owning your story can be challenging, but spending yourlife running from it is far more complex. Believe me, I know that all too well.

I briefly turn back to my meeting, and when I look again, she’s gone. The fleeting disappointment I feel is disconcerting, but I ignore my body’s initial response and reach for my scotch, trying to refocus on what my accountant, Lorenzo, is saying.

“I can only fudge the books so much before I start catching the attention of the tax department—” He tugs at his tie and swallows thickly before finishing his sentence. “—and your father.” He winces slightly when he mentions my old man, and I guess I can’t fault him for that. Giovanni Mancini is a ruthless bastard and wouldn’t think twice about putting a bullet in your head if he thought he’d been wronged.

“Leave him to me,” I say, leaning forward to place my drink back down on the small marble table before me.

“But—”

I cut him off with a look. “I have a tech guy working on an encoded and encrypted program designed for our needs. He’s one of the best in the country.”

“Who?” he counters, daring to question me.

I cock an eyebrow and level him with a look that has him shrinking back in his seat. I’ve about reached my limit with this sniffling fool today. “That’s none of your concern.”

“My reputation is on the line here.”

“So is your life,”I want to retort, but I don’t.

He knows the score. If he steps out of line, opens his big fat mouth, or becomes a problem, he’ll disappear. It’s what my family is known for. Not me specifically—I’m still haunted by the things I was forced to do before I broke out on my own—but my father and brother wouldn’t bat an eyelid if push came to shove.

I chose to have our meeting down here for this veryreason. When you’re the eldest son of the country’s most powerful mob boss, there’s always someone waiting in the wings for intel or for you to slip up. Although I regularly scan my home and office spaces for bugs, you can never be too sure. Complacency is a dangerous thing in my world.

As I settle back into my seat, my attention is pulled toward the bar’s entrance. When the woman from the window suddenly enters, I sit up straighter, and my cold, black heart kicks up a notch.

Why am I so drawn to her?

My eyes track her every move as she crosses the room, heading straight to the bar, and I find myself disappointed when she doesn’t look my way. It’s not like we had a moment, but for me, at least, I feel like something passed between us.

Her shoulders are pulled back, and there’s a slight rise in her chin.Her guard is back up.Is that for my benefit? Can she sense me watching her again? That thought has the corners of my mouth curving slightly.

My predatory gaze peruses down her tight body. She’s taller than I initially thought and dressed simply in a black skirt that stops a few inches from her knees. It’s paired with a basic white blouse, and dark sneakers adorn her feet. It looks more like a uniform than something someone would wear for a night on the town. Her long, dark hair is pulled back into a high ponytail.

Her underwhelming attire means she’s not the type of woman I usually associate with, but there’s something refreshing about her lack of effort.

The slight swing in her luscious, curved hips is hypnotising, and don’t even get me started on those lean, long legs. It has my mind going straight to the gutter.

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