Chapter 1 Gemma

“Stop fingering the holes,” Natalie hisses at me as she swats my hand away from the vibrating wall of exposed brick. The wall would be beautiful if it didn’t have a gritty coat of navy-blue paint covering holes the size of my pinky finger.

“These are bullet holes,” I reply while twisting my finger back into the divot.

“If those are not your holes, take your finger out of them.” She grabs my hand, leading me away from the bullet-riddled walls.

In dresses too short to be considered clothing, we look amazing. The way men and women turn their heads, lust in their eyes, lets me know the dresses are doing exactly what they’ve been made to do; draw attention. Perhaps a hint of envy is what I feel from some who sway to the deafening music blaring across the nightclub. It’s a wonder I can hear myself think.

We shouldn’t be here.

“Nat, let’s go. I don’t like this place. Haven’t you read the stories? There was a shootout, someone got kidnapped, and they made porn in the basement or something,” I tell her while squeezing into a narrow opening between two stools in front of the bar.

“That was months ago. Besides, if we go to any of the places Downtown, we’re likely to run into one of your brothers, right? At least, here—”

I cut her off. “At least here we’ll run into some wannabe looking to make his bones by fucking with Don Sebastien’s sister.”

Natalie glares at me. It’s a reminder of why my hair is ash blonde instead a similar shade of dark brown like hers. No one’s supposed to know who I am. But on the complete opposite side of the country, I should be able to chance saying my brother’s name out loud.

“It doesn’t matter,” I tell her, hating how much I have to watch what I say. “We should go.”

“Let’s get a drink to make schlepping it out here worth it. We don’t get to party like we did in the city. You’ve been out here for months. You spent the first couple looking for a job and now that we have some free time together, you’re ready to call it a night? Come on, Gem, I’d love you so much if you just did one shot with me.”

“You already love me, Nat,” I sigh with a slight laugh. “Fine. One round of shots and then let’s get out of here. This place gives me the ick.”

“Two shots of your best Tequila.” Natalie shouts at the bartender with two fingers in the air. “Two more rounds after that, too.”

“No. I’m not drinking like we’re back in Lower Manhattan. This is San Francisco,” I groan with a roll of my eyes. “We’re not in SoHo anymore. We should take it easy.”

“We are taking it easy because we’re going to have a great time tonight and take an UBER back to our place.” Natalie beams as she tosses back a shot, and then another.

“I agree with your friend.” A man says from behind me. I try to keep my back to him, my purse clutched tight in front of me, and Natalie’s drinks in my sight at all times. Still, I can’t help tossing a look over my shoulder to see who’s speaking. His arm is up as he signals the bartender. The gesture hides his face.

My gaze catches Natalie’s. She peers over my shoulder, tipping her head to the side, and raising an eyebrow. The silent gesture tells me the man is cute enough to talk to, but I’m not feeling the most sociable right now.

“Name’s Frankie, ladies. This is my place.” He circles his finger in the air, motioning around the club.

The walls pulse with house music. Lights flash. People drink and dance. It feels like I’m not partying fast enough or hard enough to keep up with everyone else. Even Natalie’s getting drunker by the minute.

“The bullet holes are a nice touch. It really livens the place up.” I joke with a shake of my head.

Frankie steps from around my back to squeeze between me and Natalie. His beady eyes linger on my face for a few seconds before he scoffs and turns to give his back to me. Rude. Asshole. Feels just like home. He must be from New York.

“So, what can I get you to drink tonight? Especially something to loosen this one up,” he says with a thumb over his shoulder at me.

“I’m drinking Tequila.” Natalie replies.

“I’m the designated driver.” I speak to the back of his head.

“One shot. You promised.” Natalie pouts and I reluctantly agree.

Frankie hands us both a shot glass. We clink, drink, and slam the glasses on the bar top. The music continues to blare as Natalie keeps drinking with Frankie. I avoid any more shots because I’m not comfortable being drunk far away from home.

Home still pops into my mind as a one-bedroom apartment on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Now, I'm stuck in California because it wouldn’t be safe for me to stay in The City that Never Sleeps while my brothers move La Familia operations to the west coast. There’s also the issue of steering clear of the NYPD. I can only hope my secret’s still safely sunk at the bottom of the East River.

“What are you doing here, Gemma?” The question sounds like a hazy whisper, but the voice strikes at me in my core. I know that voice. It’s him.

My heart races as I turn to see a face I haven’t seen since I graduated high school nearly five years ago. I take a step back, peering up into soft green eyes nestling under perfectly devil-arched eyebrows. High cheek bones with a rugged beard cut close to the skin, give his face a handsome contrast.

Antonio Calisi is a mixture of male model and lumberjack, but professionally, he’s a doctor. Doctors aren’t supposed to be partying in nightclubs, and they’re not supposed to look as good as he does.

I remember him from my younger days, always around my brothers and closest to Sebastien. “Are you here to spy on me? Tell Bash I don’t need a babysitter.”

Antonio places a finger to his lips, warning me to stop speaking with a dart of his eyes at Frankie. A warm sensation washes over me. I’m not sure if it’s the rekindling of my schoolgirl crush or the alcohol working through my body. My chest is hot and my mind spins like a top. I look at the spot where I left my shot glass, but it’s gone.

“You don’t look good.” Antonio uses a finger to tip my head upward to inspect my face and stare into my eyes.

“Well, you don’t look good either,” I snap back at him, pulling my face away from his fingers. It feels like I’ve had twenty shots instead of just the one. I jab my finger into his chest emphatically. “It doesn’t matter if you’re the sexiest doctor I’ve ever met. You don’t look good, and I need some air.”

“That’s not what I meant, Gem. Come with me,” Antonio demands, but I can barely think straight.

I pat down the front of my body until I reach the hem of my dress. I slip my hand between my thighs for a second before pulling it out and holding it up to his face. “I’m not even wet, doc. You’re going to have to work harder to get me to come with you.”

He chuckles, looks away, and then zeroes back onto me. The way he leans closer lets me inhale his delectable scent of anise and cinnamon.

Spicy. Alluring. Why does he have this effect on me? I know why. I’ve had a crush on him for as long as I can remember. My last interaction with Antonio comes with a fond memory. I took a chance and stole a kiss the night after my graduation, but it didn’t go beyond that. Tonight, however, I might take another chance to explore the curiosity of lust I’ve always had for him.

“I can take care of myself, doc. Just sit tight. I’ll be right back.” I tell him as my head spins. I need support, an elbow to hold that will lead me through the swaying bodies to the bathroom. But I turn around to see Natalie’s gone. My pulse races as my eyes scan everyone around us. “Fuck. Where did she go? I hate when she does this.”

“Your friend is right there,” Antonio says, nudging his chin toward the dance floor.

I don’t want to stop her from having a good time. Instead, I convince myself I can make it on my own, telling him, “Good, keep an eye on her and I’ll be right back. I just need to splash my face on some water.”

He raises an eyebrow with a light chuckle. “You want to try that again?”

“Shit. You know what I mean, Antonio.”

He chuckles again. “Yes, but wait, let me grab your friend and we’ll go together so I can keep an eye on you two.”

I want him to watch me do so much more, but cooling myself off is best.

I shake off the anticipation of fulfilling my lust and grip the bar to steady myself. After I squeeze my eyes shut, and take a few deep breaths, I push off toward the bathroom without waiting for Antonio and Nat to join me.

Bullet holes in a horribly painted blue brick wall leads to the restrooms, with the Men’s Room and Women’s Room opposite each other. The door between them swings open, and Frankie comes out. Fuck, I thought he was with Natalie on the dance floor with every intention of trying to grind his hard-on against some unsuspecting dancer.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite interior designer. What’s the matter? You look a bit dizzy. Do you need to lie down?” Frankie asks with a devilish grin.

I shake my head and reach for the woman’s restroom door, only to have Frankie grip me by the wrist. He yanks me through another doorway, which leads to a backroom. There’s a table in a dimly lit space where empty glasses sit until he pushes me against it, forcing the glasses to topple over.

“Stop.” I tell him, but my voice is barely above a whisper. “I don’t feel good. You — you put something in my drink.”

“I can help you feel good, if you ask nicely.” Frankie leers as he grabs his crotch.

“Fuck off.” I snarl and stumble my way toward the door.

The door opens a sliver, but Frankie pushes it shut. He yanks me back, causing me to roll my ankle in my shoes and use the table to keep my balance. I’m only able to get one shoe off before Frankie takes a step closer.

“I’m trying to fuck you, darlin. Now come on. It’s only going to take a minute. Pull that dress up.”

A snort mixed with laughter explodes out of me. “If it’s only going to take a minute, how about you save me the trauma, therapy, and dealing with the police? Just let me out of here. I’ll tell every woman I meet what a great big dick you have. They’ll line up to fuck and you can leave me alone.”

I wish I could keep up the banter, but whatever drug is in my system makes me feel like I’m floating. I can barely focus on outtalking this asshole. Unfortunately, he’s far more sober than I am. At least, he appears to be.

When he lunges toward me, it feels like I’m moving in slow motion when I move out of the way. Frankie crashes into the table, but quickly whips around to face me again.

“Fuck, man, you don’t have to do this.” I tell him with every breath exerting too much energy.

“How about you just let me bury this cock in your throat? Then you can stop telling me about what I do and don’t have to do.”

“Aren’t you the fucking gentleman?” I let out a dark snort and reach for the door. I get it open enough to slide through, but Frankie grabs me again. He hurls me backward and slams the door shut. This time he locks it.

Fuck.

When Frankie lunges for me, I duck onto the floor, hoping to use the table as my shield. The floor is filthy, sticky under my shins as I crawl to the other side. Frankie flips the table out of his way. A loud crash echoes around the room, but it’s not from the table.

Antonio’s standing in the doorway with fury in those devil-arched eyes. He takes one look at me, and charges after Frankie. I can hear words and grunts between them, but the soft grasp of Natalie pulling my arm snags my attention.

However, I can’t stop trying to watch Antonio and Frankie trade blow-for-blow. Everything is moving in slow motion like a scene from an action movie. The way they spin and toss each other around ... Antonio’s overpowering Frankie with ease. Nothing like what I imagine a doctor to be.

Rage, pure and carnal, to protect me has my nipples hardening with desire. Fuck, Frankie must have put some powerful shit in that tiny shot. The fight feels like it’s lasting an eternity, but unreal in the way that Antonio throws Frankie around this small room.

Even Natalie’s face is hazy as I tell her, “Their fight scene looks so real.”

“It’s very real, love. Come on. Upsy-daisy.” Natalie helps me to my feet.

One foot is flat on the ground, while my other rests awkwardly in one half of my favorite pair of red-soled heels. There’s something sparking inside of me. I shouldn’t be so turned on by Antonio bloodying Frankie’s face. While I hated every moment alone with Frankie, if it were Antonio, I’d have been happy to be locked in the room.

“We can’t leave yet. My shoe is somewhere” I use her shoulder to hold myself upright.

The lustful energy exploding through my body has my pussy quivering with anticipation. Antonio’s masterful with his hands as a physician and as a fighter. I want to know how masterful they’d be working on my body to coax an orgasm out of me.

One deep inhale gets a whiff of sweat swirling around me and my sexual lust dissipates. The cacophonous odors of liquor coating the floor with a hint of blood taint the air. There are too many scents familiar to the life I left behind as a mafia princess in New York. They all churn my stomach.

The sound of several guns cocking and readying to fire practically snap me out of my drug-enhanced stupor. I turn to see Antonio’s bloody hands, one holding Frankie by the shirt while the other hovers over Frankie’s bleeding nose. Three men stand in front of the door with their weapons pointing at Antonio.

I immediately dive in front of Antonio, shocking everyone in the room.

“Now, you can’t put hands on a made guy and think you’re walking out of here.” One of the gun-toting men spits as he points his weapon at us.

“And you think putting your hands on the sister of a Don is any more forgivable?” I snap back at the men.

I get up, with Antonio standing firmly behind me and his hand hovering near the small of my back. Frankie grimaces and writhes in pain on the floor.

“Don’t.” Natalie whispers to me with urgency from a few feet away.

I try to keep my voice firm, unwavering, but my mouth feels pasty, and my teeth are numb. “I am Gemma Marzano, sister of Don Sebastien Marzano. This asshole on the ground drugged me and attacked me. My fiancé was simply coming to my defense. If you want to start a war, fine. But Antonio is protected by my family.”

Laughter comes from behind the three men holding guns. A bulbous man with wiry hair clinging to his pale scalp in a horseshoe pattern steps in front. He’s obviously the one in charge.

The man’s words are nonchalant as he asks, “What is the darling baby sister of a New York City Don doing in my club, then?”

“It’s my fault,” Natalie speaks up. “We wanted a night of fun without her brothers watching our every move. Her, um, fiancé, came to chaperone and made sure we stayed out of trouble.”

That’s my bitch. I never need to tell her when or how to lie to keep our stories straight.

“It’s funny that you say Antonio here is your fiancé, but in all these years of treating the Dacosta family, he’s never once mentioned a bitch.” The man retorts.

Antonio steps in front of me, pulls Natalie behind him to my side, and speaks confidently. “Why the fuck would I tell any of you guys about someone I care about? So, you can drug her, hold her hostage, and do god-knows-what to her? And for the record, I never worked for Vito. That’s my guy, Ronan. He works for the Dacosta family. I don’t owe any of you assholes an explanation about my sex life.”

“Fuck, I didn’t know who she was. I thought she was just another stuck up bitch. I only meant to loosen her up.” Frankie groans from the ground, pinching his bleeding nose and holding the side of his head.

The bulbous man rolls his eyes, glares at us from head to toe, and shifts his attention to Frankie to scold him. “This is how you behave in my place on opening night?”

“Don Verducci, I swear I didn’t think—” Frankie tries to speak.

“That’s your problem! You never fucking think!” The man in charge snaps.

Antonio turns to me and hooks a finger under my chin. “Look at me, Gem. Are you okay?” he asks. His green eyes seem to dart all over my face checking for damage. God, the care in his gaze has my mouth willing and ready for him to claim it. Or perhaps, I should go for it. Now’s the perfect moment to reenact the last time we were face to face.

“You tell me, doc,” I reply with a small smile, grip the back of his head and pull him down for a kiss. My tongue slides into his mouth easily. Warm passes of his lips over mine make everyone else in the room disappear, but the moment ends just as quickly as it begins.

He whispers against my mouth. “I should never have let you leave my sight.”

Somewhere in the words unspoken, I know he means more than just letting me leave him at the bar.