Feeling so much was fucking exhausting.
Remember the mission, Santori.
By the timewe got to New Jersey, I was calm, collected, and I’d dusted off the mask I’d taken years to develop.No. Never. Only you.
Her words were sugar-laced poison. I wasn’t biting. She was a liar. A performer. I wouldn’t fall under her spell again.
We made our way from the private airstrip to Casa Nera in an armored car. It was a relief to be surrounded by my men, trained to my exacting standards, heading into a secure compound I had designed. Casa Nera was the seat of De Sanctis power in New Jersey. There was no safer place to be for the girl who had suddenly become important to dangerous people.
She matched my silence all the way into the compound. We didn’t talk about the fact that I’d just made her come so hard she’d soaked through the mattress beneath her. I didn’t let myself think about it. I didn’t let myself think about it the whole drive home.
We drew up outside the main house, a Gothic-style rambling mansion, and the car door opened.
“Well, you’ve finally arrived,” a familiar voice said from just outside the car.
Holy fuck, today had been a long day, and it was about to get longer.
I nodded to our driver, one of my best and brightest trainees, and got out of the car, waiting for Georgia to follow.
Jimmy De Luca stood on the gravel, wreathed in smiles. So, someone had already heard that they were getting married, itseemed. Jimmy appeared to have no objections. He stepped back and watched Georgia get out of the car and gave a loud, vulgar whistle. I shot him a deadly glare, and he snapped his mouth shut.
“Take Signora Conti to the blue bedroom,” I told Ettore, one of the men waiting patiently to see what I needed done.
He nodded and reached to take Georgia’s backpack from her. She drew back, clutching it to her body. She looked at me questioningly.
“Go with him.” My command forbade argument, and for once, Georgia obliged without talking back.
She stared distrustfully at Jimmy, who was currently leering openly at her, his greedy gaze running up and down her body. I took satisfaction in the fact that he couldn’t make out much of her curves under her baggy clothes.
Myclothes.
“Shouldn’t she stay with me?” he asked as soon as Georgia and Ettore disappeared into the mansion.
“Why would that be? She’s not yours yet, De Luca. Keep it in your pants.”
“But she will be. What’s the point in waiting to make it official? She might as well get used to me now.” He grinned and thrust his hips forward in a lewd display of exactly which part of him he wanted her to get used to.
“Let’s not disappoint her before the wedding. She’s flighty as it is,” I told him flatly.
Someone laughed softly behind me, and Jimmy’s face went red.
“Hey, Santori, watch your jokes, buddy, not everyone has the same sense of humor. I’m a made man, in charge of The Vetiver. Remember that.”
I reached into the car for my own bag. His words used up the very last of my patience. Men like Jimmy never learned.
“Or what?” I turned on him, dropping my bag to haul him close, forgetting my own cool for a split second.
Shock radiated over Jimmy when I grabbed him. I never reacted in anger. It wasn’t my style, and yet, I couldn’t stop.
“What are you going to do? You, the made man, the casino floor manager… compared tome? Who the fuck are you?” I didn’t need to point out our differences. I was Renato’ssottocapo. In the event of his death or injury, the men would answer to me. I was inner circle, family.
I pressed a hard finger into his chest. “You’re nothing. Nobody. Don’t forget that. Don’t piss me off. Follow my rules until you’re married. And yes, you’re in charge of one of the smallest De Sanctis casinos. As long as you’ve not been breaking the rules… it’ll stay that way. If not… we’ll talk again.”
Jimmy nodded numbly.
I let go of him and patted his rumpled clothes back into place, harder than was necessary.
“Our lives are all about respect, De Luca. If you don’t respect me, I won’t respect you… and you know what I do to men I don’t respect.”