Page 8 of Merciless Desires

“Not at all.” She laughed as she kept up with me. “Let’s go dancing.”

“No.”

“Don’t you own a club?”

“I do.”

“Can we go?” She inched closer to me until our arms touched. “You know Papa doesn’t let me do much, but you could show me everything while keeping an eye on me.”

Janero did keep her pretty sheltered. She had been homeschooled and didn’t have close friends because her father didn’t trust many people. Their house was a fortress. Visitors were carefully vetted. When Romero and I fled to Italy after our father died, we spent much time with Janero. I had just turned fifteen that summer and she was around five.

By the time my brother and I had moved back to America, she was barely a teenager and I was in my mid-twenties. I taught her English and we spent days by the ocean, but I never saw her as a woman. That changed this past summer when I went back to Italy. Our ten-year age gap didn’t seem so big now, but that wasn’t what kept us apart.

“Your father has his reasons,” I said.

“But he let me come here. That’s a good sign.”

“It won’t be a good sign for me if anything happens to you, so I need you to follow my lead and do as I say while you’re visiting.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

“Cin.” I stopped walking and made her face me. “The same rules apply here as they did in Italy. My job is to keep you safe.”

“Gio,” a loud voice called from across the street.

“Hell.” When I glanced in the direction of the familiar voice, I wished we had stayed in the car.

“Gio.” Paulie Santoro and his three henchmen approached us. “What are you doing out here with the commoners?”

“Getting some air,” I said.

“Who is this beautiful woman?” Paulie raked his gaze down Cin’s body, causing me to bring her closer to me.

He wasn’t the type of man I associated with. He tried unsuccessfully to worm his way into the Bilotti organization, but he couldn’t be trusted and he had nothing to bring to the table. His uncle worked with my father years ago, so he thought that gave him an in with Romero and I. He was wrong.

“A friend,” I said.

“I’m Cinzia Malatesta.” She let go of my hand and extended it for Paulie to take. Did she have to tell him who she was?

“I’m Paulie Santoro.” When he brought her knuckles to his lips, I tensed. “Is your father Don Malatesta?”

“He is.” She subtly withdrew her hand from his before I had a chance to intervene. “You know him?”

“Everyone in our business knows him,” Paulie said. “Is he accompanying you?”

“No.” I nodded at my guard, Max, who had been hanging back until now. “Cinzia is visiting me.”

“Hmm.” Paulie stared between Cin and I. “He sent his daughter all this way to visit with you?”

“We’re old friends,” I said.

“That’s interesting.” Paulie grinned. “Some might see that as an alliance in the making.”

“And others might see it as two friends spending time together.” I shrugged, not wanting him to speculate on circumstances he knew nothing about.

“Well, if that’s the case…” When Paulie turned his attention back to Cinzia, my chest filled with rage. “Maybe you and I can get together while you’re in the city.”

“I was just saying to Gio that I want to go to his club,” she said. “Have you been?”

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