2. Vin

Ilisten closely to the proposal my older brother Miceli is offering me and it occurs to me that this might be the very distraction I need. He wants me to take over running the wine business branch we have here in the States. Of course, the original Rossi Vineyard and estate is located in southern Sicily and our parents still live there. The soil is extremely fertile and my dad oversees the growing of Nero d'Avola, the most important red wine grape in Sicily. Our wines are of the highest quality and in high demand all over the world. Taking on the role of President of Rossi Vineyard is huge and would keep me busy. Too busy to dwell on why I haven't been happy lately. Hell, lately? Who am I kidding? I haven't been truly happy in years.

Because something is missing. I can't explain what or why I've been feeling this way, but there's a hole and, no matter what I do, I can't seem to fill it. Maybe being sucked into the winery business will help by giving me something to focus on. Hopefully, this restless, empty ache will finally go away.

While Miceli starts talking about the company's most-recent profit report, I nod and pretend I'm all ears. But, really, my mind starts drifting. Truth be told, I was never a numbers man. That's Enzo, all the way. My younger brother could explain profit margins, losses, gains and everything in between without blinking an eye or pausing to take a breath—absolutely anything that has to do with the stock market is in his blood. Plus, he's a genius at picking stocks. We all have portfolios with him and he makes me more money in one year than some people make after working ten years. And I don't have to lift a finger.

So, do I technically need to head up a company and add all that stress on my plate? No. Enzo makes this family money in his sleep and we have enough to last several lifetimes. But I need something to help fix this strange and overwhelming feeling inside me. This need for…something.

It's almost like something is missing. Even though I don't know what exactly, I can be certain it isn't a serious relationship. I do not need a woman in my life. That much is for absolute certainty. Okay, so let me rephrase that. Maybe my body would like a warm, welcoming female companion to satisfy the urges of my very lonely dick. Because there's no denying it—I'm a thirty-two year old man with sexual needs and wants. But, what I don't want is to be burned again. I still have the scars and I'm not naive enough to go down that path again.

Love is a fool's paradise. The simple truth is that instant attraction is nothing more than lust. Pure unadulterated sexual desire. A body's immediate reaction to simply want to mate with another body. Those stupid chemicals released in the brain help trick a person into thinking he or she is "in love." But, the truth is, the yearning is merely a desire for physical release. Nothing more.

I learned that the hard way. It was a damn painful lesson that took me a long time to come to terms with and process. But now I know that love isn't for me. It's just…too damn painful.

Pulling in a deep breath, I nod and pretend interest in the slides my brother is flipping through on the white screen with a little clicker. Miceli is always so organized, determined and he's the sharpest leader I've ever encountered when it comes to ruling an empire. He's not only book smart, but also street smart. And he's ruthless in both arenas. If someone crosses him, or anyone in our family, Miceli will end them. Not long ago, Rocco Bianche, a rival, kidnapped Miceli's wife, Alessia. Big mistake. We managed to rescue her and it all ended on a happy note. Well, except for Bianche. He's no longer breathing.

That's what happens when you cross the Rossi family.

"Earth to Vin."

I look up, caught daydreaming, and give Miceli a lopsided grin. "I'm listening."

"Really?" Miceli rolls his eyes. "Then what did I just say?"

"You said it's time to wrap this meeting up, big brother."

"No, I didn't," he states dryly. "But nice try."

Beside me, Angelo chuckles and I know my youngest brother is ready to get the hell out of here even more than I am. Ang has the attention span of a gnat and would much rather be out traveling the world or trying to seduce some poor, unsuspecting woman. He's a consummate player and, I swear, he has a new girlfriend every week. Probably because he gets bored easily and no one has managed to keep his interest for longer than a few weeks. Glancing over at him, I can't help but be a little envious. He's so damn carefree, lives his life to the fullest and nothing ever seems to bother him.

Me, on the other hand? I'm the broody, moody, sensitive one who got his damn heart broken because he was stupid enough to give it to the wrong woman. And, five years later, I still can't get over it. No matter how hard I try. Even in my own head, it sounds pathetic.

I truly thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with Cynda and then I caught her fucking another man. Bitch. My heart shattered on the spot and I vowed to never let a woman that close to me again.

Since my ill-fated love affair with Cynda, I've come up with a series of rules for myself which will prevent anything similar from ever happening again. Celibacy isn't an option, so now I'm careful to keep my walls high and my heart guarded. Locked down completely. Fucking is fine; falling in love is not. As soon as the fucking is over, I leave. There's no cuddling or whispered words, no sweet lies exchanged. And I don't ever bring a woman back home to my place or allow her in my bed. Instead, I always get a hotel room or we go back to her place. The less personal it is, the better.

With all my rules, it's actually been a while since I've had a night of letting loose and enjoying a woman for an hour or so. I never linger and I make that clear upfront because I don't play games or want to lead anyone on. I'm not a liar like Cynda and I make my true intentions clear immediately—I'm not looking for anything serious. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. All I can offer is some late-night debauchery. Then, I'm gone.

Oh, and I never do repeats. I'm a one and done man. It's just easier that way and prevents any kind of emotional entanglement for either of us.

"So, what's the verdict?" Enzo asks, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Are you stepping up, Vin?"

I nod. "Yeah, why the hell not? I really enjoy dealing with the Rossi Vineyard side of things. Thanks, Miceli, for believing in me."

"We all believe in you, bro." Miceli slaps a hand between my shoulder blades. "You're going to have to go into the office every day, though. You realize that, right?"

My mouth edges up, along with my middle finger. "Kinda figured," I say dryly.

Angelo visibly shivers. Sometimes, I think my youngest brother is allergic to offices. "Look on the bright side, Vin. Now, you can hire yourself a hot-ass assistant."

"You are going to need an executive assistant," Enzo states.

"My advice?" Miceli shoots me a serious look. "Choose a man or a married woman over sixty."

I roll my eyes. "I don't sleep with employees."

"There's always the temptation," Enzo comments and we all look at him. He practically lives at his office downtown. "Why're you all looking at me like that? I'd never eat where I shit. I'm just saying it's been known to happen—with other people."

"Yeah, let's all just keep it that way." Miceli drops the clicker on the table.

"Guess we can't all be as lucky as you, Miceli," Angelo says teasingly. "A gorgeous wife and adorable son—#goals."

"Ang, you wouldn't know what to do if you were stuck with the same woman day in and day out."

In perfect Angelo fashion, he starts scratching his neck like a rash just cropped up and shifts in his seat, looking extremely uncomfortable at the thought. "To each his own, right? I can't help it. When I, ah, shop, I prefer to buy the variety pack. Having the same meal day in and day out gets a little…boring. No offense, Miceli."

But my older brother just grins, hearts and flowers in his eyes. "None taken. You poor foolish boys have no idea. Meeting and marrying Alessia was the best thing that ever happened to me. She's my reason for everything."

Enzo shakes his head. "I still can't believe the Great and Powerful Miceli Rossi has been brought down to his knees by a tiny, wisp of a woman."

"Alessia may be small, but she's mighty."

"We're happy for you, though, bro." Enzo pushes up out of his seat and glances down at the ridiculously expensive watch on his wrist. "I gotta get back to the office and make this family some more money. Alessia is perfect for you and baby Nico is going to call me his favorite uncle after I show him how to make millions of dollars in only a day."

"You wish!" Angelo pops up. "I'm going to take that kid all over the world and show him how to have fun. How to enjoy life and meet beautiful women."

Miceli frowns and places a hand over his chest. "Nico is two months old. I don't want to think about him talking yet, much less globetrotting with his playboy uncle. It's enough to give me heart palpitations."

My brothers and I laugh. At thirty-five, Miceli is still in excellent shape, but I have noticed the slight silver coming in at his temples. Hell, I plucked a gray hair two days ago and I'm three years younger. I wish we would stop aging and just stay how we are, but I know that's impossible. Life doesn't stop for anyone no matter how powerful you are or how much money is in your bank account.

"Alright, see you guys later. I have a hot date. I'm thinking of picking her up in my helicopter. I don't know, though. Too much?"

I can't help but laugh.

"Maybe a little over the top for a first date," Miceli comments dryly.

"Oh, I don't know," Enzo says, a twinkle in his dark eyes. "I say do it. Show off your piloting skills. You can use all the extra help you can get."

"Yeah, right," Angelo says, blowing that last comment off. "Your boy does not need any extra help when it comes to getting a woman. Not even an ounce." With a salute and a smirk, Angelo jogs out.

Damn, I wish I could be more like him sometimes, I think, and roll my eyes. Not a care in the world.

"Vin, we'll have you start at the office on Monday," Miceli tells me. "Enjoy the rest of your week."

"Gee, thanks. You know it's Friday already, right?"

"Work doesn't stop on the weekend." Miceli grins and I let out a sigh, hoping this new position doesn't send me into an early grave. Or, give me an entire head of gray hair. "I'll see you guys later."

"Great," I murmur and head toward the door, along with Enzo. We walk out of Miceli's corner office and pass down a hallway, through the foyer and out a set of glass doors.

"So, what're you up to tonight? Any plans?"

I look over at my polished brother, dressed in some high-end suit, and shake my head. "Nah. I was thinking of ordering in and maybe finishing that new show I started binging. It's pretty good about the former Navy SEAL guy out for revenge. Have you seen it?"

"You're kidding, right? I might have every streaming channel available and watch my TV monitors all the time, but the only thing I view are stocks."

Damn, maybe I'm not the only one around here who needs to get out more. The thought hits me hard and I run a hand through my hair. "Do you ever feel like life is passing you by? Or, that maybe something is missing?"

"Oh, shit."

I look over at Enzo who's staring hard at me. "Are you going through a midlife crisis or something?"

"No, I'm being serious." I hit the down button on the elevator. "Lately…I don't know. I've been really…unhappy."

"Why?" He looks truly puzzled. "You have everything you could ever want. Family, friends, money, a perfect brother."

When I don't say anything, a light suddenly dawns in his brown eyes.

"Aww, hell, this is about a woman, isn't it?"

"No. I'm not referring to a relationship." My response is too fast. "I don't let myself get close to women. Not emotionally, anyway."

We both can hear my unspoken words—Not since Cynda.

"Okay, nothing wrong with that. You're a busy man and will be even crazier busy once you start heading up the winery division. So, it sounds to me like you need to let off a little steam. Get laid."

The elevator dings and we step inside. "That's what I was thinking."

"Any prospects?"

"Unfortunately, no."

Enzo straightens his already perfect tie. "Maybe I can help with that."

"What do you mean?"

"There's a very private, extremely discrete event happening tonight. It would be the perfect place to pick up a woman for the evening. No strings attached."

"What event?" I ask.

"A private party of sorts," he answers, suddenly getting cagey.

I tilt my head, curious as hell. "Okaaay. Why aren't you going to this party if it's so great?"

"I have some more work to do and probably won't leave the office until late."

Damn, Enzo was a workaholic to the extreme. If anyone around here needed a vacation, it was him.

"But, if you're interested, I can give you my invite. Because you can't get in without one."

That last comment really piques my interest. "Is this some kind of illegal, underground?—"

"No, nothing like that," he interrupts, and the elevator door glides open. We step out and he stops up short. "Well, I mean, not everything is exactly above board. But it's just all for entertainment purposes, right?" He shrugs a shoulder and starts walking again.

"What do you mean?"

We start walking through the lobby and now I'm downright perplexed. What is this mysterious event?

"Truthfully? I've been invited to this same party for the past three years and haven't ever gone. My time is precious and I rarely attend parties that don't involve shop talk and networking. But, I have heard rumors."

"What kind of rumors?"

"Just the usual," he answers evasively and motions for me to step through the revolving door first. Pushing through, I wait for him to come out on the other side and, as he does, he reaches into his inside jacket pocket and pulls out a simple white envelope. "Here."

I take the formal envelope and turn it over, checking out the waxed seal imprinted with a lamb. What the hell? "You've never gone?"

"Nope. But, I hope you do. Go and have a few drinks. Enjoy yourself and let loose a little. Pick up a beautiful woman and fuck her senseless. Then by the time Monday morning rolls around, your head will be clear and in the game, and you won't be all mopey because you haven't had sex in the past year."

"That's not true!" My brow creases as it occurs to me Enzo is right. Holy fuck. It has been a whole year. Actually, more like one year and three months.

"C'mon, Vin, we all know you rarely let the little guy out to play." I glare at Enzo and he tosses his head back and laughs. His gaze drops to my crotch. "He's suffocating in there."

"Fuck you."

Enzo slaps a hand on my shoulder. "Go to the party tonight and have fun. The little guy and I are begging you."

Shrugging his hand away, I look down at the tempting invitation in my hand and say, "He's bigger than yours, bro."

And Enzo laughs even louder. "Yeah, right."

I keep looking at the strange seal. "What's up with the lamb? Kind of weird, don't you think?"

But Enzo only shrugs. "No clue."

I know that lambs represent innocence and purity. Seems a little odd that they'd stamp their invitations with the animal.

"I have heard some people refer to it as the White Auction, though. Whatever the hell that means," he offers.

Again, another symbol of purity.

"Okay, gotta go. And I'm going to want details all about the hot babe you picked up!"

"Yeah, sure," I respond and roll my eyes.

I watch my brother toss me a salute—we all do that for some reason—and head toward his expensive sports car parked up front near the door. God, that guy gets away with so much shit. How did it not get towed? I wonder, tucking the invite into my jacket pocket.

As I walk up the block, heading toward my apartment which is within walking distance, I feel the invitation burning a hole in my pocket. Even though exclusive, uppity parties aren't usually my scene, I'm seriously tempted to go. And, the closer I get to home, the more I'm leaning toward actually attending. Maybe it's exactly what I need—one night, no strings. And, hell, an end to my drought. Because, I can't deny it—my poor dick would like to have some fun tonight.