12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Lorenzo

I know that it isn't physically possible for her to seem even more beautiful now than she did the first time I saw her, but I'm willing to let the irrational and improbable fly for this instance.

She looks remarkable. She makes my mouth water looking at her dressed in her pretty dress and jewelry. I hate myself for making her come here again.

She looks like a princess, a fucking queen in fact. She belongs in a garden surrounded by flowers, not burly men with guns strapped to their hips.

She is so short and petite. I have met a lot of short women who try to compensate for their height, or lack of, by wearing mile-high heels all the time, but she seems comfortable in her own skin. The two-inch heels she has on amplify her already gorgeous legs. Legs that I’ve caught my men looking at more times than I care for already.

Even Dino turned around for a second look when he saw her. Dino is typically my most disciplined man.

The only reason I don’t blame him for looking again, is because I know he has been with his woman for eight years and he carries around a diamond ring in his pocket all the time, waiting for the perfect moment to propose.

That still doesn’t mean I like him looking at my woman.

My woman.

Vincent was right in asking me to stay away. But even a saint or a eunuch would not be able to resist the siren call that is her presence, her beauty, her smile. And I am just a man. I am no saint. Nor am I anything even approaching a eunuch.

It’s especially hard for me because I know what she tastes like now, not just her mouth, but her…everything.

I know what she looks like when she’s turned on, I know how she likes to take her pleasure, nails scraping and teeth biting. Demanding.

I know how perfectly her lips spread into an O when she’s close, and when she finally goes off the edge…the sounds are imprinted in my brain.

Her being the widow of a traitor does nothing to dull my desire for her.

Eve, the serpent and the forbidden fruit. A remake for the ages.

“Are you going to spend the entire night just looking at me?” Her voice is that raspy flavor that I enjoyed so much the other night, not scratchy like most of women who work for me because they have ruined their lungs with cigars and cigarettes, but smoky, sultry. Undeniably sexy.

“Can I?”

Her lips part in surprise and I curl my fingers into themselves to keep from thrusting two of them into her mouth…and that’s just for starters. For some reason, I seem incapable of holding my thoughts back from her, something I know that is more than dangerous.

For all I know, this woman is approaching me on purpose, in pursuit of some misplaced ideas of seeking revenge for her lost lover. Spilling my truths to her seems like a colossally bad idea.

“Just looking?” she asks and from the way she gasps a little, I can tell she didn’t mean to say that.

I’m sure she also isn’t aware of her body leaning toward mine. Her legs are pressed so tightly together that I’m guessing she’s well on her way to soaking wet.

I couldn’t care less about her plans. She is beautiful, sinfully hot, and entirely willing. I can enjoy myself and make her enjoy herself too.

Jeremy Foster obviously didn’t know what he had while he was alive or he would’ve done everything in his power to stay alive and protect her, stay with her, enjoy her. It’s clear because he instead chose…

“You know that you don’t just want to look,” she says to me teasingly, interrupting my thoughts.

I grin at her. “Looking makes for an excellent first course.”

“Am I food now?” she teases back.

I chuckle. “I would eat you again and again if you would let me.”

She blushes. It’s something I love about her. She always seems so surprised by my attraction to her and yet she’s capable of such filthy things when her clothes come off. I think this juxtaposition is a lot of the reason I’m becoming obsessed with her.

“I should have said this before, but I don’t want to be just a one-night stand for you.”

I blink at her. This I hadn’t expected. “You’re here again,” I observe. “It’s my understanding that one-night stands last for just a night. Since we have enjoyed more than one night of fun, and you’re here, flirting with me, I think you can rest assured that you aren’t in any danger of becoming a one-night stand.”

“I’m not flirting with you.” She sounds indignant, and I almost smile.

“Oh? So you don’t want me to do more than look at you?”

“No, I mean yes…this isn’t going the way it’s supposed to.”

“Supposed to? Do you have a script in mind for how tonight should go?”

Her eyes widen and she opens her mouth, but I speak before she can.

“Leave us.”

I don’t have to look away from her face for my men to know that I’m speaking to them. They quietly leave the room and the silence stretches around us, enveloping us. I get up and walk to where she’s seated, bending until I’m level with her face.

“Does this script end with my face buried between your legs? Or my fingers coated in your wetness? Or my cock shoved down your throat?”

Her chest heaves as she looks up at me. Her eyes flicker and shift to my lips and then come back up to meet my gaze. Then she looks away.

“I…I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far.”

I smile at her. “Thinking is for business hours,” I say to her. “Feeling is for after-hours fun.” I learned two things about her immediately: she enjoys my dirty talk and she is a terrible liar.

I know that she’s probably here to glean information about Jeremy, but she hasn’t actually asked anything of me, hasn’t wanted to know anything about him or how I might know him. I would know if she was digging because of her terrible poker face.

I have to assume that she is still coming here to see me because she likes my company. I know that she likes what I can do to her body.

“Tell me Dani, why did you really agree to see me in the first place? Why are you here?”

She takes a long drink of her wine. I watch her throat move as she swallows, wishing she was swallowing something else.

She draws in a deep breath, and then she says something I never expected her to say. “I need a job.”

I stare at her, my mind struggling to catch up with her words. “A job?”

“Yes,” she says, her voice steady despite the slight tremor in her hand. “I need a job, Lorenzo.”

I can’t help but chuckle, the sound low and rumbling in the intimate space. “And why would you come to me for a job?”

She swallows, her gaze never leaving mine. “I just…I’m going through a big change in my life right now, and I need a fresh start. I thought you could provide that for me.”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why would you think I would be able to provide for you, and even if I could, why would I want to? Because we’ve fucked?”

I know she’s playing a game right now. I just don’t know what the game is, I don’t know what the rules are and I don’t know what the end goal is supposed to be. It is frustrating how little I know of her and how much more I want to know.

“No. I’m not asking you to give me special favors because we slept together. I’m asking for a proper shot. I’ll do the interviews and everything if you want.”

“Is that so?” I step closer, intrigued. “And what makes you think I’d give you a job?”

“I’m smart, capable, and…I need this,” she replies, her voice firm.

I raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. There’s something more to this request, something she’s not telling me. “And what kind of job are you looking for, Daniella?”

“Anything, really. I just need to get back on my feet.”

Now, I may not know much about her, but I know that at twenty-five, she has managed to become one of the leads in her department at work.

I know that she has people much older than her reporting to her. I know she makes five figures in a month. She is very much on her feet. Heck, she’s even soaring.

Daniella Roberts is lying. And I want to know why. Actually, I’m sure I already do. She is trying to get close to me, to The Garden of Eden, because she believes that the information she needs can he found here.

She isn’t wrong, but I have no intention of letting her come within even an inch of this place. She thinks she knows me, she thinks she knows what we do here, but she has no earthly idea.

She doesn’t know that the glitz and the live music have all been used to strategically cover up the blood and grime. The loud music is a mechanism to drown out the screams of horror. I’m not letting her anywhere near this.

I also am not letting her go.

I take another step, closing the distance between us. Her scent—something floral and uniquely her—fills my senses.

“There are many kinds of jobs I can offer. Some more…demanding than others.”

She doesn’t flinch, holding her ground. “I can handle demanding.”

My mind races through the possibilities. Giving her a job would keep her close, allow me to keep an eye on her. But it would also bring her deeper into my world, a world I’m not sure she’s ready for.

I take her chin in my hand, tilting her face up to meet my gaze. “Sweetheart, you know who I am, don’t you?” I hate that I have to point this out. I didn’t want to break the spell between us. I was enjoying the lie that we are just a man and a woman who enjoy one another’s company.

I see the fear crawl into her eyes for a second before it vanishes. She knows there’s no use lying. What I’m curious to know now, is how much truth she will give me. After all, the best lie is the truth.

“Yes. You’re Lorenzo Duretti, crime syndicate extraordinaire, yada yada. Look, I just need a job. If you can’t give me one then I can go somewhere else. I'm sure Club Red is hiring.”

I grind my teeth at her flippant tone. I see the role she has decided to take on.

“You know who I am and yet you want to work with me? People who work with me die every day.”

“I’m not afraid,” she whispers, her eyes burning with determination.

I study her for a long moment, searching for any sign of doubt. But she doesn’t waver.

“Very well. I’ll find something for you. But understand this, Daniella—you’ll be under my protection. And that comes with certain…expectations.”

“Expectations?” she asks, her voice barely more than a whisper.

I lean in, my lips brushing her ear. “Loyalty and obedience, they are non-negotiable. If I ask you to come, you come.”

I allow the double entendre to sink in and I watch her gulp before I continue.

“My word is law here. First and last. I don't care how enjoyable fucking you is; I won't hesitate to punish you if you go against me at any time.”

Her breath hitches and I can feel the tension between us crackling like a live wire. I pull back, my gaze locking onto hers. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she breathes, her voice trembling.

“Good.” I release her and step back, giving her space to compose herself. “You’ll start tomorrow. Be here at nine a.m.”

I press a card into her hand, it’s a corporate card that has details of my company, including an address.

She nods, her eyes wide with a mix of anticipation and fear. “Thank you, Lorenzo.”

I wave off her gratitude, already thinking about the implications of this new arrangement. “Go home, Daniella. Rest. Tomorrow, your new life begins.”

As she stands to leave, I can’t help but feel a surge of possessiveness. She’s stepping into my world now and I won’t let her go easily. Not when she stirs something in me that I haven’t felt in a long time.

She turns at the door, giving me one last, lingering look before disappearing into the night. I watch her go, the weight of what I’ve just done settling over me. She’s in deeper now, and so am I.

As the door closes behind her, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. This woman—this beautiful, determined woman—is going to be the end of me. But for now, I’ll play the game.

Because one thing is certain: Daniella Roberto is far too intriguing to let go. The door opens again and I know it is Victor who has just walked in.

Without looking at him, I turn to the window, looking out at the city below. It’s a dangerous game we’re playing, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. She’s caught in my web now and I intend to keep her there.

“Who is she?” Victor asks, and I sigh. This is the difference between Victor and Vincent. Victor asks questions about shit that should be obvious while Vincent finds the answers to even the deepest mysteries of the world.

“Come tomorrow morning, she’s our new employee.” he doesn't need to know the sordid details about her relationship with Jeremy.

In fact, none of my men can find out. I'm not the only one who felt the sting of Jeremy’s betrayal. His stupidity had cost the lives of three of my men, men who had families and friends in the Costa Nostra. And the people here do not forgive.

They also do not take kindly to the families of traitors. If they find out who she is, protecting her will become a whole lot harder.

“I didn't realize you were taking interviews in your private room.”

“Neither did I.”

Sighing, I walk away from the window and over to the table to pour myself a glass of the sweet wine I’d served Daniella, drinking from the same glass. Her red lipstick print on the rim of the glass makes me think of her lips.

I stare at it for a second, remembering her scorching kisses, then rotate the glass and drink. It’s far too sweet for me but I am enjoying watching the pink liquid swirling in the glass.

“Boss, do you really think it’s a good idea to have someone you've fucked work here? You usually like to keep business and pleasure separate.”

“It won't be a problem. She won't be working with me, or even remotely close.”

“Doesn't mean it won't be a problem for the other men. I mean no disrespect sir, but the only other woman who has stirred everyone up like this before is your sister.”

I frown. “Saying no disrespect is not a pass to be fucking disrespectful Victor. And I don't particularly enjoy hearing how ‘stirred up’ you all are by my sister.”

He has the gall to smile just a little and I want to punch him. I wonder if my father ever thought about punching his own right hand man, but then again, Uncle Vince was a force in his own right.

“I apologize. All I'm trying to say is that a woman like her coming in here, she's a distraction. My men’s attention will be pulled from their jobs and it is a critical time now. We can't afford to have distracted soldiers.

“Then maybe you should train your men better. Maybe you all need to learn to think with your brains and not your dicks, hmm?”

“Of course, Capo.”

Sighing again, something I tend to do too often these days, I settle down on the plush sofa in the room and cross my legs, taking out my lighter and twirling it in my hand.

“So, what’s the report?”

Victor’s smile is even wider now as he walks forward and hands me an envelope full of photographs.

“Mass destruction,” he says. “Fifteen men dead, another five critically injured, I have it on good authority that two won't make it through the night.”

Looking through the photos of chaos and debris doesn't make me happy. There's so much blood and gore. A torn-off arm here, a detached foot there. I school my face into a mask of indifference as I look through each one.

“Women and children?”

“None hurt.”

I nod. My instructions had been very clear. Only their main depot was to be targeted, and only men worked there. They came for my business, so I went for theirs. Ships had been set on fire and containers full of products, drugs and weapons had gone up in flames. It was total carnage.

Good.

“It will take them months to recover everything that was lost. That should buy us some time to also recover from what we ourselves have lost,” Victor says and I shake my head.

“Massimo will not sit still for months. He will want his pound of flesh and he will want it now. I am sure that his father is the only reason he hasn't made a move.”

Bruno Massimo, Capo and leader of their sect of the Cosa Nostra is a level-headed man. My father and he weren't friends in the true sense of the word, but they respected each other enough to avoid stepping on toes.

That respect did not extend to his son and neither did the levelheadedness. While Bruno is a think first, act later kind of boss, Massimo is and act first, pay the price of consequences later kind of boss. Even though his father is still alive, he is already well on the way to becoming the capo.

“Bruno has asked to meet with you. He sent a letter with his insignia on it this morning,” Victor says, and I'm tempted to roll my eyes.

“He couldn't send a text?”

“You know how the older generation likes to do things the difficult way.”

Victor hands me the letter and I drop it on the table in front of me without opening it.

“Aren't you going to read it? Victor asks.

“Later. I have more important things to do right now than to cater to the whims of an old man. How are Maria and Isobel?”

“Good. Isobel has started attending her new school and Maria is waiting tables at the club.”

“Waiting tables? Wasn’t there a more professional position for her?”

“Not with her middle school degree there wasn’t. She’s taking the time to enroll in an online college and when she’s gotten her degree, we can move her up.”

I consider that for a minute and it seems fair, so I nod.

“And my sister, any news from her?”

“Not yet boss.”

My sister is a wandering spirit. She's never in one place for long and while that has served me well for a long time, it makes me uncomfortable that she isn't within reach right now, especially with Massimo on the move.

“She hasn't been in communication with Vincent?” I ask, and he shakes his head.

“Vincent doesn't tell me about his communication streams so I wouldn't know. I thought you would, considering he is your best friend.”

Victor has never liked Vincent. I don't know if it’s because of my friendship with him or the fact that he was my first choice to be my second in command, but his dislike has only grown over the years. The feeling is of course mutual for Vincent.

“Thank you, Victor.”

With a subtle nod of his head, he leaves the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

As I take another sip of the sweet drink, I can still taste her on my lips, feel the echo of her presence in my mind.

Daniella Roberto—beautiful, stubborn, and now, mine to protect and to mold. The thought stirs something primal within me, a fierce possessiveness that I haven’t felt in years.

I turn back to the empty room, the echoes of our conversation still lingering in the air. I can still see her, sitting there with that mix of defiance and vulnerability.

The way she challenged me, pushed back just enough to show she’s not afraid, yet smart enough to know when to concede, intrigues me.

Tomorrow she’ll step into my world and everything will change. I’ve pulled many people into this life, but none like her.

None who’ve made me question my every move, my every motive. I have as much control over the situation as I think I do, which isn’t very much at all. That should worry me, but I only find it exciting.

Brain occupied with thoughts about where I can sneak Dani off for private rendezvous fill my mind as I take out my phone and go back to managing my empire.

Daniella

The decision to ask Lorenzo for a job at the club wasn’t made lightly. It’s been gnawing at me for days, ever since I discovered the connection between Jeremy’s death and the Duretti family. If I want to get to the bottom of this, I need to be closer to the source. And that means taking a drastic step.

I had come to the decision, sitting in my apartment, turning the situation over and over in my mind. The thought of leaving my job, my stability, my real life, feels like a punch to the gut. But I know I have to do this. I open my laptop and type out my resignation letter, my fingers trembling slightly. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I hit "send”.

The next day at the office feels surreal. I’ve been here my entire adult life, and now I’m about to walk away from it all. I take a deep breath and head straight to my manager’s office, clutching my resignation letter tightly.

“Daniella, are you sure about this?” my manager asks, concern etched on his face. “You’ve been a valuable part of this team.”

“I’m sure,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. “I need to move on and pursue something different.”

He nods, albeit reluctantly, and I leave his office, the weight of my decision pressing down on me. I make my way to my desk, where Renee is already waiting, a look of confusion and concern on her face.

“Daniella, what’s going on?” she asks as I sit down at my desk, feeling defeated.

“I resigned,” I say softly. “I need to take a different path, Renee.”

Her eyes widen, and she glances at the letter before looking back at me. “Are you serious? What’s happening? Is this about Jeremy?”

I nod, feeling the lump in my throat grow. “Yes. I need to find out what really happened, and to do that, I need to be closer to...everything.”

Renee's face softens with understanding. “You’re going to the club, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “I’ve asked Lorenzo for a job.”

She takes a deep breath, then pulls me into a hug. “You’re brave, Daniella. Just be careful. The Durettis...they’re dangerous.”

“I know,” I say, pulling back and wiping a tear from my cheek. “But I have to do this.”

We spend the next hour packing up my things. Each item I put into a box feels like a piece of my life slipping away. Memories flood back—late nights at the office, laughter shared with colleagues, milestones achieved.

This job has been my life, my identity. Walking away is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

“I’m going to miss you,” Renee says, her voice trembling. “But I understand why you’re doing this.”

“Thank you,” I reply, my heart heavy. “For everything.”