Page 10 of Captured Fantasy

I wanted to crawl under something and hide from everyone, especially Cosimo Barone.

CHAPTER THREE

COSIMO

After the awkward run-in with Mrs. Russo, I went up to the clubhouse for lunch. Lucien and Federico were there, standing together on the teeing area. Federico was swinging his club absently against the toe of his shoe, clearly engaged in conversation with Lucien. Neither of them noticed me pull my truck past the gates and down the long driveway.

It was fucking sweltering, the pavement almost searing through my shoes as I walked up the sidewalk. The interior of the clubhouse was a welcome relief, hitting me with a wash of cold air that prickled my skin. Paolo Venetti was already at the bar, his laptop open and water pooling around his melted Old Fashioned.

“Day drinking?” I asked, taking the seat beside him.

“When you have this many inventory reports, then yeah,” he said. “I’m too damn young for this, I should be fucking the bartender or something.”

The blonde woman behind the bar narrowed her eyes, popping her gum. “I’m not going to fuck you, honey.”

I gestured to her. “There you go, nothing better to do but day drink. Hey, Elsa, can I get a beer and a sandwich or something?”

“Coming right up,” she said. I winked at her and she flushed.

She disappeared in the back and Paolo scowled at me, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning back.

“I’ve been working on that woman for an hour and you got her blushing in a minute. Have I lost my touch? What the hell is going on?”

I rested my elbow on the counter. “Already put in the work with her.”

Paolo’s jaw tightened. “So you’re already fucking her?”

I nodded.

“Damn you, Barone. Leave some for the rest of us.”

“You’re welcome to her if you can get her to fuck you.”

“Onto the next one, huh?”

“What? Are you and Amadeo trying to be my mother?” I said, shaking my head. “He’s been such a fucking prude since he got married. Jesus Christ, it’s my business where I stick my dick, thanks.”

“Yeah, he’s been kind of uptight,” Paolo agreed.

Elsa returned with a plate of sandwiches, chips, a pickle, and an ice cold beer. I thanked her and watched her walk into the back again, her short sundress swaying just below her ass. Maybe I would fuck her a few more times before we called it quits.

Fuck sundress season, I was horny enough already.

I finished my food and went to the back to change in the locker rooms. As I pulled on a pair of swimming trunks, the door opened and Lucien walked in and opened his locker. I kept my head down as I put my things away and picked up my beer, trying to skirt around him. His ice cold stare made the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

“You left the repast early yesterday,” Lucien said.

I paused. “Yeah, I did.”

“Are you having problems, Barone?” He swiveled, zeroing in on me with that calculating stare.

“I’m doing just fine,” I said crisply. “And while I know you’re the boss’s favorite, I have my own underboss to answer to. I’m not your jurisdiction.”

Lucien’s jaw worked and when he spoke his tone was controlled. “Don’t burn bridges, son. I’m the boss’s right hand.”

Anger flared in my chest as I took a step forward and then stopped myself. Getting on the wrong side of an underboss, especially one as powerful as Lucien, was an incredibly stupid idea. We stared at each other for a long, tense moment. Lucien’s shoulders relaxed and he spun the golf club in his hand, holding it out to me.

“Join us for a round,” he said.

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