Chapter 19 MICELI

Catalina smiles up at me. "What do you think?"

I think it looks like a pink and gold balloon and confetti monster barfed all over Festa's VIP level.

"It's very pink," I say neutrally.

Not because I don't want my mother, who is standing on Catalina's left to lecture me. Or even because my brother will shoot me if I hurt his wife's feelings. In the arm. Probably.

But because my sister-in-law's pretty face has none of the pain-driven tension that has marred it so often since the surgery on her hip. Recovery and the physical rehabilitation of her hip under the watchful eye of my overprotective brother has been hard on Catalina.

When the hospital sent a male physical therapist, we very nearly had another body to disappear. I got that sorted without bloodshed or death. Go me.

Catalina is happy right now and it shows.

"And gold," she says happily. "Lucky for us that the black accents were already here as part of the regular décor."

One of my cousin Salvatore's high-end nightclubs, Festa's stark black and white simplicity is one of the reasons I like coming here. My one contribution to this party was suggesting the venue.

Festa's VIP area is the most secure party venue in New York. Especially if the entire floor is booked, which it is. By me.

Confetti, glitter and latex…not the fun kind but balloons…have transformed my favorite club into a backdrop for a new Barbie movie .

I didn't go to the first one and I'd rather not star in this one either.

My other contribution to this party: I'm paying for every damn piece of glitter.

"Lucky." A cavity is forming in one of my molars from the sweetness already.

Catalina laughs and lays her hand on my arm. "It's exactly what Róise wants."

"I'll take your word for it." I have to.

Catalina has spent more time with my future fiancée than I have in the weeks since the contracts were signed.

I've been busy overseeing an investigation into one of our older capos. Lorenzo Ricci is dirty, but I have to prove it before we can kill him.

I also had to fly to Portland to finalize details on a deal we're brokering between the Hades Brotherhood and one of our allies.

None of that is the reason I haven't texted Róise. After I texted her the first time and she figured out who it was, the harridan blocked my number.

Anything I want to say to her, I have to say through my own people. Because they might as well be good for more than ruining my life .

Her words, not mine.

Róise makes no secret of her antipathy toward our upcoming marriage, but she's going to have to come to terms with it. The contracts are signed and our copy is stored in the secret document safe room between Sev and Catalina's offices in the family penthouse.

The building could take a hit from one of those RPGs and it wouldn't destroy that room.

The marriage is happening.

But right now, my secret fiancée is pretending I don't exist. Not that Allessio and Zoey let me forget about Róise for a single minute.

One or the other sends me a picture of Róise's outfit before they leave the house. Not that they listen when I tell them to get her to change. All of her clothes seem to expose her midriff and every fucking outfit has some pink in it.

There's a message there. And it's not the fuck you, Miceli she intends it to be. Maybe it is, because every youthful outfit reminds me of the more than a decade between us. Of the virgin blood smearing my cock that night in Portland.

Because she wanted one night being a normal woman who got to choose who she gave her virginity to. And she did not want that man to be the mafia underboss she would have to marry.

She did not want it to be me.

She wasn't turning me down in Portland though, was she?

When she thought I was Ares, her god of war. And she was my Aphrodite, a woman I believed to be experienced.

I hope Fate got her laugh out of playing that joke on me .

"She loves pink," Catalina's words bust into my thoughts. "Trust me."

"She was wearing black when I met her." Once to seduce and once to sign our prenuptial contract.

Dressed for a funeral.

Catalina's brows draw together in confusion. "Really? She's always got something pink on when I see her."

"You might want to have a little chat with her about that." Mamma looks around the party décor with none of Catalina's enthusiasm. "It's one thing to have a signature color and another for it to be…"

This isn't about the color pink and we both know it. When we told my mother and Catalina about the planned alliance, mamma was appalled.

That's when I learned that forty years ago, her older brother was killed during a war over territory with the Irish mob. She has more in common with Róise than she knows.

Grandfather negotiated the current truce six months later. Too late for the uncle I never got to meet.

Mamma does not trust the Irish. Róise despises the Italian mafia. It's a match made in mafia war heaven.

If we want to stop the blood spilling every generation, this marriage alliance has to happen. Mamma knows it too.

"Lots of people like pink." I'm not one of them, but it's not my birthday party.

"She's not going to damage Miceli's rep by wearing pink," Catalina, who is decked out in lime green and yellow, gently chides mamma.

My mother smiles affectionately at the daughter-in-law she adores every bit as much as she does her own daughter. "If you say so, cara ."

What are Róise's chances for the same affection? Zero to nil.

Everyone in my family adores my brother's wife. Catalina is different in a good way, nothing Sev expected and everything he needed.

I'm not expecting that result from my marriage. I don't want it either.

Seeing my brother with a heart of granite go soft over his wife is a great source of amusement, but it's not something that will happen to me.

And still for some reason, it really bothers me that Róise can't expect the same welcome Catalina received.

After one final look around the room, my sister-in-law says, "I put your gift for Róise on the table."

She bought a gift from me too? What does she think? That I can't be bothered to even buy my own gift for the secret fiancée? "What is it?"

"A pink cat bed."

"A cat bed?" That doesn't sound like much of a gift. "I didn't know she had a cat."

"She doesn't. There's a gold foiled coupon printed on thick pink stationary in the card."

Suspicious, I ask, "What's the coupon for?"

"A trip to the shelter to adopt a kitten."

"The fuck I'm going to the shelter…" My mother's look has me stopping mid-rant. "I apologize for the language, mamma."

But then I glare at Catalina. "You'd better be joking."

"Nope. It will be good for you."

"Róise told you she wants a cat?" I ask.

"No, but doesn't everyone?"

"A dog maybe." At least dogs can be trained and they're loyal.

"Oh no, are you a dog person?" Catalina asks.

"My brother is not an animal person," Sev says as he arrives.

"Your wife wants a cat," I inform him, knowing my brother is no more an animal person than I am.

And he will have a new feline companion for his wife by tomorrow if he believes me.

Like I said, he's gone for her.

Catalina's eyes narrow at me. She knows how Sev will respond too.

I dare her with my eyes to disagree. My sister-in-law said everyone wants a cat and everyone by definition includes her.

Besides if I'm going to be saddled with a furry nuisance eventually, assuming Róise will insist on bringing the animal with her after we marry, so is my brother.

Sev leans down and kisses the side of Catalina's neck. "You want a kitten, mi dolce bellezza ?"

She shivers as he whispers something else in her ear.

Whatever my brother said has Catalina's eyes going unfocused as she says, "Mmm…hmm."

"That's enough you two. The guests are going to start arriving soon and the birthday girl even sooner."

"Where's the gift table?" I ask, determined to remove "my" present and replace it with the one I bought.

"No way. You didn't want anything to do with planning the party. You had your chance to give your input on the present and you said—"

"I know what I said," I interrupt.

"You gave me free reign and I know she's going to like it. Don't ruin it with your made man ego. "

"Don't think that's a thing."

"It's a thing," Catalina assures me.

"My wife took the time to buy your fiancée a gift and you will give it to her." Sev's tone isn't or-I'll-kill-you-now, but it's close.

The synthesized four beat rock elevator chime is loud in the silence of the club.

Cazzo . That's probably Róise and her family now.

Maybe I can send Angelo to pick the cat out with her. The Angel of Death has a soft spot for animals.

The doors slide open revealing an older woman with bright orange-red hair, Róise, and the bodyguards I assigned her.

Róise's dress doesn't have pink accents. It is pink. From the hem of the flirty skirt that hits well above her knees to the tight, glittery bodice that cups and presents her perfect tits enticingly.

Her shoes aren't stilettos like the first night we met, but the silver strappy sandals add a couple of inches to her height. Her beautiful legs are bare and an image of her wrapping them around my waist while I pound into her flashes through my brain.

My cock stirs with immediate interest.

I count dead bodies to put my libido back to sleep.

Nestled in Róise's chin length burnished brown curls is a tiara made with some kind of pink gemstone, set in platinum. It could be white gold, but I would pick platinum if I were buying it for her.

Her necklace and earrings compliment the tiara and something primitive inside me rebels at the thought of another man, even her uncle, buying her jewelry.

Beside her, the older woman who barely reaches five feet, leans on a…glittery pink cane. They make pink canes? That glitter?

Other than the cane, the older woman's pale blue dress is every bit as understated and sophisticated as my mother's.

Róise's gaze travels around the club, going bright and a smile curves her lips as she takes in the decorations.

I guess pink isn't so bad.

Her eyes connect with mine and another jolt of arousal powerful enough to run the club lights zaps me deep in the balls.

Accidente . This woman.

With barely a pause, Róise's gaze moves on and warms when she spots Catalina beside me.

"Cat! It's fantastic," she cries as she heads toward my sister-in-law.

Cat? I mouth to Sev.

He shrugs, but his mouth sets in a firm line. He doesn't like other people giving Catalina nicknames.

I shove his shoulder with mine. "Your possessive bone is showing."

"Say that to me this time next year," he taunts right back. "Don't think I haven't noticed the way your eyes follow her whenever she's in the room."

"You've seen us together twice and tonight I haven't even spoken to her yet."

"Exactly."

I ignore my brother's taunt and put my hand out to Róise. "Happy birthday."

"Are you kidding me? You're going to shake her hand?" Catalina demands, disbelief pitching her voice an octave higher than usual.

"You'll have to do better than that if you want people to believe you two are dating," my brother offers. "At least kiss her on the cheek."

Róise looks horrified and takes a step back. "Not necessary."

She didn't mind kissing me in Portland.

"I don't agree." I step right into her personal space and cup her cheeks with both hands, preventing her an avenue of retreat. "Happy birthday, Róise."

She melted in my arms that night in Portland, her passion a fiery match for my own desire. No way has that combustible chemistry just disappeared.

No matter what she wants to believe.

Intent on proving a point, I lean down and press my lips to hers.

Her mouth is sweeter than the cotton candy pink décor and I can't hold back from sliding my tongue between her lips to chase that taste.

Róise moans, her hands gripping my wrists. Not to pull my hands from her face, but to hold them in place.

Triumph mixes with instant sexual urgency.

"It looks like the lovebirds are getting along," booms a voice from near the elevators.

Brogan Shaughnessy has arrived.

Like we would, and had, his people brought him and his family up the secure elevator in shifts.

Róise goes stiff at the sound of her uncle's voice and rips herself away from me, wiping at her lips. Shiny pink gloss smears on her hands.

Fucking candy cotton pink lip gloss.

Knowing it will be all over my lips too, I grab my handkerchief out of my pocket and hand it to her. "Do you mind?"

I'm pushing, rubbing in what we just did. The sparks of temper in her emerald eyes says she knows it too.