Page 38 of Made to Sin

“So… how did I get back yesterday?” I casually asked.

If there was anyone in this house who knew anything, it was Maria. Being the head employee of the estate had its perks, and one of them was gossip. Even if she hadn’t witnessed it, someone would have told her already.

She wiped down the marble countertop. “SenhorBeneveti took you home.”

I dropped my fork on the plate, theclangemphasizing my surprise. “Luciano?”

She gave me a pointed look at my lack of table manners. “Yes, you were asleep in his arms, stinking of alcohol. You are lucky I opened the door and not some nosey servant.”

My mouth hung open at the absurd idea of Luciano taking care of me when I was drunk. He had done a lot of nice things for me but going out of his way to take me home feltpersonal.

“How did he get past our men?”

“SenhorCamello andSenhorBeneveti have mutual business, soSenhorCamello ordered us to not botherSenhorBeneveti unless a threat is present.”

Merda,if Luciano went past the guards the normal way, did my husband find out? But if Marco knew, he would have punished me already. That meant no?

My brain started hurting again, incapable of digesting the unexpected news I received. Though, in general, I couldn’t remember much from last night besides the immense alcohol bill I acquired and the dancing.

Merda, the dancing.

From the hazy bits and pieces I recalled, I was dancing with someone, and I couldn’t confidently say it was the platonic kind of dancing. Did I do something with the guy after? Who even was the guy? When did Luciano find me? Did he tell Marco?

Merda, merda, merda.

Maria momentarily stopped her cleaning streak, eyes widening at the state I was in. “Meu bem, are you feeling okay? You hardly touched a piece of the pancakes, and you’re turning pale.”

“I’m fine, just hungover,” I lied, too busy trying to take deep breaths to deter the surfacing panic attack.

She nodded, not believing my excuse, but I didn’t stick around to confirm her suspicions. Pancakes sadly abandoned, I was trying to figure out how to ask Luciano what exactly happened when he found me. I’d work from there to piece together the missing chunk of time.

It was a solid plan, but if it were that easy, I wouldn’t be running to my room and screaming into a pillow for five minutes.

Think, Katarina, think.

I decided to say that I had forgotten something at the club. It was a common enough mistake, and with the alliance, it shouldn’t be too big of a hassle.

Marco didn’t bat an eye when I told him the lie.

All I had to do was pray Luciano was there at two p.m., nine hours before opening. I mean, most Made Men worked in their club basements, right?

—

The club looked like every other New York building in daylight, dark and grim with padlocks enclosing its doors. It seemed even theCosa Nostrawasn’t spared from the city’s rustic air and petty theft.

My motivation wore low on the desolate streets, but I had an ounce of hope that Luciano was somewhere in there. I walked down to the side entrance and saw the same two bouncers guarding the door— a good sign that it wasn’t a ghost town after all.

Considering our incident yesterday, I waltzed over and tried my luck with the bald one again. He had to have remembered me.

“Good afternoon!”

He grunted as a measly response but remained frozen as ice. Did acknowledging me constitute him as being nicer? I couldn’t tell, but it did replenish my motivation the tiniest bit.

“Does Luciano happen to be at work this morning?”

This time, he didn’t reply. Well then, I’d consider that as not being nicer.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted his friend typing out a text, most likely to alert his boss of my presence. At least someone had the decency to help me. Next time, I would go straight to him.

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