Chapter Ten

Delilah

I stood in front of the walk-in closet's dressing room mirror with a wide smile. Though I owned many gowns thanks to my profession, most of them were sexy verging on slutty, baring more than flaunting my body beneath. The white gown Serafino had bought me was beyond classy. It made me feel like a princess.

I caught most of my hair back into a knot, leaving the rest to trail down my back. Pushing my feet into a pair of white heels Serafino had purchased earlier and had delivered here, I stepped back and looked at myself more critically.

You'll do.

Serafino was buttoning up the jacket of his black tuxedo when he moved behind me, and I couldn't help but compare his intoxicating darkness to my refined radiance, just as I couldn't help but wonder if he'd gone commando again.

His eyes caught mine in the reflection. "Exquisite."

"You're not half-bad yourself."

One side of his lips quirked. "I'll take that as a compliment, half-a-one, anyway."

I turned around and looked up at him. "I don't think I need to fill your head with more praise. I'm sure you have plenty of other women for that."

His eyes darkened. "I don't want to hear it from other women. I want to hear it from you."

I glowed from within. A man like Serafino didn't get through life by smooth talking, he barely spoke at all. But when he did, he meant every word. I wrapped my arms around his nape. "In that case, you're the most handsome, charismatic man I've ever had the pleasure of being with."

He bent and claimed my lips in a kiss that left me breathless long before he released me again, my body quivering and my senses so far gone they were irretrievable.

He smiled down at me. "I'm going to hold you to that."

I didn't have time to query him, not when he grabbed my hand and drew me with him toward the elevator. "Let's not be late," he added.

I pulled free of his grip and hurried to the kitchen counter to retrieve my clutch bag, which matched my shoes perfectly, before I stepped into the elevator with him.

It wasn't until I was sitting in the back of the sedan driven by Emilio that I asked, "Are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"Don't you like surprises?"

I shook my head. "I like to be in control of my destiny."

"Of course you do," he murmured, almost to himself. He reached for my hand and kissed the back of my knuckles. "We're going to watch a Broadway theater performance starring my sister, Isabelle."

I gaped. "Are you telling me I met someone famous and I didn't even know it?"

He grinned. "She recently exploded onto the theater scene, thanks to not only her talent, but her husband's investment into her career. She and Salvatore are a formidable team."

"They looked very much in love," I confessed. "As did Ethan and Sabrina."

Salvatore nodded. "Valentino was equally as lucky with Chantilly. Though whether any of us deserve to be loved is another matter entirely."

I blinked at him, neon lights flashing across his face as Emilio drove down yet another street as he headed toward the theater district. "Everyone deserves love."

"Everyone?" he repeated huskily.

"Yes, everyone ." I lifted my hand and ran my fingertips down the side of his bristled face. "You might have done a lot of things I don't condone, but I don't doubt for a second you've done a lot of good things too."

He pushed his head further into my hand, like a cat seeking comfort. "You say all the right things."

We sat in companionable silence for the rest of the short ride, getting out in front of a theater where a huge billboard flashed Isabella , and the name of the show. "Florence," I said, more than a little awed. I'd heard of the critically acclaimed show. "I'm impressed."

Serafino's smile glinted, his hair sliding forward as he nodded. "Me too."

He clasped my hand before we stepped into the foyer where a well-dressed crowd mingled. Many of them stopped and stared, and I wasn't sure if it was because Serafino's reputation preceded him or if it was because we made such a striking couple. Or perhaps it was simply because he'd brought a date to the theater with him.

I decided it was all three.

Then I noticed Salvatore on the other side of the room, his platinum-blond hair eye-catching even from a distance, as was his height that had him towering over everyone except Serafino. Though the Costa boss was surrounded by suited men vying for his attention, he lifted his hand, acknowledging us with a smile.

I smiled back, even as I wondered if the suits were mafia or theater men. People tended to gravitate or be repelled by men like Serafino and Salvatore.

Serafino nodded at him before guiding me through the crowd towards the bar. "Whiskey?"

"I'd love one, thank you."

It was oddly comforting when he handed me a drink, then drew me closer with one arm encircling my waist as we sipped our drinks on the rocks. Acquaintances soon approached him and made small talk. He mostly nodded and stayed silent, his interest blatantly focused on me.

It wasn't until we'd nearly finished our drinks that I noticed a middle-aged man staring our way. My stomach dropped. Charlie . He'd been a client from when I was with a different agency.

He bent and said something to the brunette woman he was with. She frowned, clearly irritated, but followed him as he strode toward me.

"Delilah," he greeted enthusiastically, his stare drinking me in like he was a man parched. "How wonderful to see you again." He dragged his gaze from me to Serafino, whose arm was locked around me. "And who is the lucky man?"

The woman with Charlie narrowed her burning eyes, and I cleared my throat and said, "This is my friend, Serafino."

"Friend?" Serafino's arm tightened fractionally before he inclined his head and said, "And you are?"

"I'm Charlie." He stuck his arm out. When Serafino pointedly ignored it, he dropped it back to his side and cleared his throat. "This is my date, Greta."

Greta's eyes burned for a whole different reason as she took in Serafino. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

He nodded but didn't bother with the formality of replying.

Charlie turned to me, his interest obvious. "So what have you been up to, other than, you know..."

"Other than fucking men like you for a living?" I said, filling in his unspoken words.

He spluttered. "I wasn't going to put it that way."

"Then how were you going to put it?" I asked mock-sweetly. It was pointless withholding the truth and I refused to be made to feel worthless for it.

Greta gaped, her eyes flashing. "You paid to fuck her?" she hissed.

Serafino cocked a brow. "You give it to him for free?" He clucked his tongue. "No wonder you're furious." He smirked. "If you'll excuse us..."

He guided me away from them, his stare as he looked down at me seeming to see right through me. "Are you all right?"

"Nothing I can't handle," I said softly, though I was shaking inside.

Confrontations weren't uncommon. But I hadn't made excuses for my profession in a long time, and I didn't intend to start now. I provided a service, men could make use of it...or not.

I only wished I had someone like Serafino by my side more often. I looked up at him as we climbed a round of steps to the boxed seats above the main auditorium. "Thank you."

"For what? Telling the truth?"

I shook my head. "For defending me."

His mouth twisted, then he paused, showcasing an unnatural, predatory stillness. "I would do a whole lot more than shield you with a few simple words."

I inhaled quickly, my senses attuned to his. Right now he was a tightly leashed tiger. I could only imagine the carnage if he was set free. He'd leave dead bodies in his wake to defend my honor.

A delicious little thrill shot through me. I shouldn't enjoy that thought, yet a part of me—a big part—truly did.

He smiled, muscles untensing. "Let's not miss the opening of the show."

I nodded and allowed him to usher me to a private seat that took in the stage below. When the lights dimmed I leaned forward, enthralled within seconds by Isabella's magical performance, the other actors adding to her brilliance.

It didn't matter that it wasn't a musical, if anything it highlighted her performance, made her standout even more for her brilliant acting ability. I was only glad it was a ninety minute show without intermission; I was too absorbed in the story to want it to stop.

It wasn't until the end of the performance, where Isabella held her dying boyfriend in her arms, and the stage curtains swished closed, that I realized my cheeks were wet. I realized just as quickly Serafino was watching me, and had probably done so for a good duration of the show.

Then the audience pushed to their feet and roared approval, their applause deafening. I pushed to my feet and hollered and clapped right along with them, all too aware of Serafino doing the same beside me as he grinned with pride.

"That was incredible," I shouted to him above the noise.

Then the curtains swished open and revealed the actors with Isabella in the center. As they linked hands and bowed, the audience cheered even harder.

Serafino leaned close, his big hands cupping the sides of my face before he kissed me, then swiped my cheeks dry with his thumbs. "Let's go home," he said into my ear. "I want you all to myself."

My nipples hardened to sharp points, my stomach clenching along with my pussy. I nodded, then allowed him to draw me with him out of the boxed seat and toward the stairs. I wanted him all to myself, too.

But I was certain his sister would want us to at least make an appearance backstage. "Shouldn't we congratulate Isabella first?"

He grimaced, then nodded. "You're right, it'd be selfish not to."

Security nodded assent at our VIP access backstage. The moment I saw Isabella, I squealed like the biggest fangirl, before I threw my arms around her neck in a warm hug. "You were wonderful," I enthused.

She drew back, her eyes shining and her long dark hair a little mussed. "Thank you. And thanks for coming!"

"Congrats sis, you're a star."

She blinked, her eyes tellingly wet. "That means a lot coming from you."

Salvatore strode over, wrapping his arms around her from behind and kissing the top of her head. "Even better, you're my shining star."

She giggled, her eyes turning dewy. "You've always believed in me."

"Always and forever," he murmured throatily.

A lump formed in my throat at their obvious love and devotion. It seemed when the mafia men fell for a woman, they fell hard.

More fans approached and we said goodbye before walking back toward the foyer. Though most of the crowd had dispersed, there were some diehard fans hanging around, hoping for a glimpse of the actors.

I didn't take notice of any of them. I took even less when Serafino leaned close and said, "I believe we have some unfinished business to complete on my balcony."

My vision narrowed to just him while everything within me clenched. With just a few words he'd put me back into an immediate state of need. But then, even when my attention had been on the stage I'd been conscious of him.

"I believe so," I said huskily, my skin prickling and my nipples little hard points. I could only imagine how hard his dick must be.

I'd find out soon enough.

We were halfway through the foyer when my former client hurried over. His face was flushed, his eyes glittering. "I'm so glad I caught you before you left!"

I glanced past him, but his ‘date' was nowhere to be seen. I didn't doubt for a second she'd left him after what she'd learned. It'd been more than obvious he was interested in being my client again. "Charlie, what is it?"

He glanced a little nervously at Serafino before Charlie refocused on me and blurted, "Who do I call now to make a booking with you?"

I wilted, my breath hissing from my lungs like deflating balloons as Serafino stiffened beside me. Didn't Charlie realize who I was with? Or was he just plain stupid and thinking with his little head instead of his big one?

Neither of the men knew I was retiring, and I wanted to keep it that way. I reached into my clutch bag and withdrew a business card. I'd borrow some of Isabella's acting skills and pretend I'd still be a call girl in the weeks to come. "Call Sinead."

Serafino growled low in his throat. "You're not fucking serious?"

I looked up at him with a frown. "Last I checked you didn't have exclusive rights."

"And if I wanted to arrange that?"

I handed him another of my business cards—not that he needed one when he owned the damn agency—ignoring the yearning piercing through me from the inside out. I couldn't want him to arrange that, not ever. Because wanting him to want me would only lead to a broken heart.

His nostrils flared, his hard stare moving to Charlie. "Don't bother booking. She's mine."

I narrowed my eyes. Serafino would not control me. I'd fought hard for my freedom, my independence. "That's for Sinead to decide."

He turned to me. "The same madam who is on my payroll?"

I sucked a breath in through my teeth. "You can't buy everything and everyone."

"But I can buy you."

It shouldn't hurt to hear him say that, but it did. And didn't that make me all kinds of a fool. He might want to own me, but he didn't want me as his equal. He'd conquer me, then he'd move on.

I arched a brow, hiding my hurt by turning his opinion of me back on him. "I'm always available. For a price."

Charlie sniggered. "Then I'll be seeing you soon, sweetheart."

Serafino seemed to grow bigger, more menacing. "She is not , nor will she ever be your sweetheart."

Charlie flushed, clearly intimidated but standing his ground. "I'm a client, you can't—"

Serafino flipped open his jacket, revealing his firearm. "I can do what I want, when I want. So unless you have a death wish...?"

Charlie took a jerky step back, his hands up. "Whoa. Whatever man. I didn't realize you felt that deeply about her."

"Now you do." His eyes hardened to granite. "Never go near her again."

Charlie nodded, then turned and stumbled away.

I gaped at Serafino. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he growled.

"You mean other than threatening my clients?"

"He isn't your client. Not anymore."

My stomach roiled. "What are you going to do—chase away every single one?"

He strode forward, taking me with him. "If that's what it takes, then, yes."

Though a miniscule part of me stupidly reveled in his possessiveness, a much bigger part burned with fury and resentment. I'd worked too hard to have this man dictate who I could see, or what I could do. That I'd be leaving the profession after tonight was neither here nor there. He didn't know I was leaving, and that was all that mattered to me.

I lifted my chin as we stepped outside. He mightn't realize it yet, but he couldn't have me, either. He'd paid for my time, but after tonight he'd never see me again.

That the thought left me hollow inside wasn't something I wanted to examine too closely. I was in a contrary crisis that left me swinging between wanting him and hating him.

As we approached the car, he shook his head at Emilio and the driver left his position by the back door for Serafino to open it. I gritted my teeth in a parody of a smile and slid into the backseat. Clicking on my seatbelt, I looked out the side window—away from him—as he climbed in beside me.

The tension could have been cut with a knife, and the driver knew better than to make conversation as he pulled out into the stream of traffic.

The push and pull inside of me was so perverse I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Serafino was a dominant asshole but he'd made me feel things no other man had managed to ever. That he was a client and I'd soon be a free woman meant that tonight really was the last time I'd see him.

I was glad, of course I was. So what was with this yawning abyss inside of me?

He put his big hand on my thigh, tingles immediately flaring to life. "Perhaps I was bit controlling," he admitted in a voice that throbbed with intensity.

I refused to cede to what I supposed was a half-assed apology. I turned to him with narrowed eyes. "A bit?"

"What do you want me to say?" he asked, his stare burning with needs that were too hot even for me. "I'm not good with words. I've never been good at talking."

"Yet you were so quick to voice your demands."

His nostrils flared, his eyes hardening. "I'm a caporegime, it's what I do."

"It's what you do with your soldiers. Not. With. Me."

His hand clamped under my jaw, his tight face close to mine. "We shall see."