Page 12 of Carnal

I lift my chin, lying, "Work crap."

Chanel assesses me.

I square my shoulders. "Listen, I have to go."

"Seriously? You're going to bail?" Chanel whines.

I hug her, claiming, "I'll make it up to you. Sorry! I have a lot of stuff going on for work."

She huffs. "On a Friday night?"

"Hey, you work for the Marinos, too. You know how they are," I state.

She rolls her eyes. "Fine. Call me if you want to hang out tomorrow night."

"Will do. Thanks. Stay safe." I hug her again.

"I will. I'm a Marino employee, remember? There's an invisible warning on my forehead," she claims, which isn't totally untrue. I feel it a lot, too, but it's okay. I suppose it does keep Chanel and me safe.

I beeline toward the elevator then text my driver. It's Dante's employee, but I negotiated it into my contract within a few years of employment with him.

I step into the elevator and the doors shut. Too many thoughts race through my head.

What am I doing?

I need to stop this before it begins.

Tristano Marino at my mercy. Oh God!

He's going to want to dominate me after.

I'll get out of it. I'll make another deal with him when he arrives.

The elevator stops on the main floor and the doors open. I step out and try to make my way through the crowded space. Several people I know see me. They all try to converse, but I ignore them, focusing on the exit.

I get to the coat check, wait in line, and curse myself for wearing a jacket while still debating if I should send Tristano my address. I'm lost in thought when a large hand palms my ass. Vanilla musk overpowers the air. The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and I spin.

Biagio Abruzzo, the man next in line to rule the Abruzzo throne, leers down at me. If I didn't know what was in his DNA, I'd think he was decent looking, but he's shot up too many steroids. His size isn't anything a human being can achieve without them.

Any enemy of the Marinos is one of mine. The only time I ever see Biagio is in the club. He's always hitting on me, but I try to stay as far away from him as possible.

He steps into my personal space. "Why are you in this line? I don't see a coat to drop off."

"Don't ever touch my ass again," I warn.

"Or what?" he challenges.

I push him away, but he's like a tank and doesn't move. "You know the club rules," I reply, instead of telling him, I'll make sure Dante ends his life.

His lips curl, and he leans into my ear. Stale whiskey and cigarette breath flare in my nostrils. He declares, "I think it's time you stop playing hard to get."

I step back and into another large frame.

"Pina, what's going on?" Rubio's voice barks.

Biagio doesn't retreat, but Rubio pulls me behind him, next to the woman he brought to the club. Her eyes widen, and I motion for her to move forward in the line. I don't know who this woman is, but she needs to learn that you get out of the way when a Marino and Abruzzo face off.

Two of Rubio's friends step forward just as three of Biagio's guys do the same. My gut drops, and I pull out my phone to text Tristano there's trouble, but Dante and Gianni turn the corner. I didn't know they were here, but their eyes turn to slits, and they rush toward us.

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