Page 10 of The Consigliere

I nod. “Then you can watch me burn the evidence and we all pick up where we left off with no hard feelings. You get to plan your wedding knowing your bride to be has seen your true colors and I carry on with my day. Nobody gets to witness your hobby first hand and you continue to rise like a phoenix from the ashes. Everyone’s a winner. So, Jefferson, do we have a deal?”

He nods miserably. “I don’t have a choice. Do I?”

“Not if you want it to all go away. No, you don’t.”

I stand and my men force Jefferson to his feet, and he says fearfully, “What now?”

“You leave. Wait for Abigail to break up with you and defend her decision when your parents question it. I don’t care what excuse you deliver to make yourself look good. Just make sure you deflect the heat from her door. A few weeks are all I need, and then we will say no more about this unfortunate incident.”

I nod to my soldiers, who pull him roughly from the room and as the door slams behind them, Cesare straightens up from his position against the wall and says darkly, “You have a problem.”

CHAPTER4

ABIGAIL

Inever expected this place to be so, well, normal. I’m not sure what I thought would greet me when I walked inside, but this appears to be similar to any club I have ever been in. There are booths set against the walls and tables with chairs positioned around a dance floor. A long bar stretches the length of the room and, for the most part, people are chatting and watching a few couples on the dance floor. If anything, I’m disappointed and head to the bar to perch on a stool to try to blend in.

The bartender smiles, but it’s not suggestive in any way and I wonder what the receptionist was talking about.

“What can I get you?”

“A white wine, please.”

He nods. “Coming right up.”

As I sit, a few men head to the bar and I’m conscious of their attention as they wait to be served. One appears to have come straight from the office and his graying hair matches the color of his suit. Another is dressed in jeans and a sweater, and he leans on the bar and glances my way with more amusement than anything else and the guy beside him openly stares and for some reason he makes my flesh creep.

He is dressed in a suit, but it’s more formal. He appears to be in his late forties and his smooth-shaven jaw and well-styled hair tell me he takes care of his appearance.

He openly stares and I shift nervously on my seat, wishing I wasn’t dressed like a glitter ball. The silver fringed dress that moves independently of me was perfect for the cocktail bar I met my friends in earlier. It dusts the tops of my knees, and my black sheer stockings lead down to the silver stilettos that complement the dress. My hair is long today, and the bangs sweep against my face, acting as an effective curtain against the curious stares.

The bartender serves my drink and I reach for my purse.

“Allow me.”

I glance up and the more formal man has appeared by my side and places a twenty-dollar bill on the bar.

“Keep the change, Ryan.” He says in a deep voice, telling me he’s familiar with the staff at least, which must mean he’s a regular.

His eyes fall to the band on my wrist, and he smiles suggestively.

“First time I see.”

I look down. “Is that what this tells you?”

He nods. “It says approach with caution.”

“Yet you did.” I stare at him directly and he nods, seemingly amused.

“I was intrigued.”

He shifts a little closer. “You don’t look the sort to head through those doors. I’m interested in what brought you here.”

I shrug. “Curiosity I suppose.”

“In what way?”

My face heats as I prepare to reveal how stupid I am, and I reach for my glass and take a huge gulp.

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