“Bad dream?” Frankie’s deep voice sounds from beside me. Adjusting in my seat, I don’t bother to answer. He knows the tragic story, at least what I’ve allowed him to hear, doubtful anyone will ever hear all the details.

“Can I offer you anything to drink, Mr. Cavaletti?” Shifting my attention to the middle-aged stewardess, her motherly smile is a welcomed sight.

“Coffee, please,” I say before turning to look out the window.

“Please?” Frankie chuckles, “Where the fuck did that come from?”

Frankie knew exactly where any ounce of politeness in me came from. “How much longer before we land?” I question as I drop my gaze to the tattoos scribed on my fingers.

“Half an hour or so. Pilot says the weather is getting shitty in Dallas, so he is trying to get there as fast as he can.”

“Good.” Standing from my seat and heading toward the bathroom. “Quicker we land, the quicker we can get this shit over with.”

The soundof piano music greeted me as I entered the bar. Angelo decided he needed a haircut the minute we landed, so Frankie had the hotel manager send someone over. Given the way she was licking her lips when she saw my brother, I knew I needed to get the fuck out of there, I was in no mood for a threesome.

Sliding into a seat, I make eye contact with the bartender, a beautiful blonde with big tits and a tiny waist. I watch as she ends her conversation with a man with a star in the center of his ball cap, gifting him a smile as he hands her a wad of cash.

“So,” she leans over, exposing the tops of those tits. “Where are you from?”

“Not here,” I say with a huff as I turn my attention to the television to my left

“Got it.” The bartender whose name tag reads Liz, lays her hands on the bar in front of me. “Silent and broody.” Scrunching her shoulders, causing her tits to test the limits of the buttons on her shirt. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Just a beer.”

“Men like you are never just anything.” She surmises, catching my interest.

“Men like me?”

“Well,” Turning to the side, Liz reaches into what I suspect is a cooler and retrieves a bottle of beer. “Your shoes are definitely Italian, custom made if I had to guess. Same with the suit, it’s tailored and not off the rack. Your accent, from the little I’veheard, is definitely from Boston.” She says proudly as she slides the opened beer toward me.

Confidence in a woman is a huge turn on for me. Raising the bottle to my lips, I lean back as I take in her features. She’s beautiful, no doubt a con artist in her own unique way. Still, she nailed my ass with her checklist of what I wore and where I’m from.

“What time do you get off?”

“Judging by the size of your hands, darlin’, a full minute before you.”

Her accent splits my face with a smile. Women like Liz are dangerous, and while I want to bend her over this bar and fuck her, I need to tread carefully.

“What’s up with all of this book stuff I see everywhere?”

“Some romance book signing bullshit. I’ve never been a big reader. I prefer my men to be real and not some fantasy.” Liz drops her voice to make herself look sexier in my eyes. However, as my gaze dips to the beer in my hand, I catch the name tattooed there.

Bella.

She loved romance novels, particularly the ones written about the mafia. Bella loved to read the steamy parts out loud to me, begging me to recreate the scene with her. And just like that, Liz wasn’t so pretty, the beer flat and unappealing. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my money clip, sliding off more than enough money for my drink and tossing it to the bar.

“Nothing wrong with reading, Liz. Romance is lady porn, getting men laid for a long fucking time.”

Chapter

Five

KATE

Clutching the book to my chest, I wave at Cayce as I step away from her table.

I wasn’t sure what to expect as I stood in line to meet her, afraid I would say something stupid, or knock over her display.