Game of Love : A Mafia Romance Page 5
Things people wanted and things they didn’t want.
If something happened to me tonight that I didn’t want, chances were no one would know since Pa had sent me home.
He’d called half an hour ago and I didn’t answer.
Usually I checked in with him when I wasn’t at the hotel. Always. It was practically a rule.
After the way he spoke to me and practically fled from me earlier I’d decided I didn’t care about his stupid rules. I was making a stand because I needed a break.
I needed a damn break to review things with fresh eyes.
I needed some fresh air.
Pa had been avoiding me and I’d made the mistake of telling him what it was I’d wanted to talk to him about.
Armand.
Leaving Vegas was my Plan A, but I figured talking it out could ease the situation until I could leave.
The minute I mentioned his name Pa was suddenly busy and he’d been avoiding me ever since, just like he’d been doing whenever the subject of Europe came up.
After that oh, so wonderful conversation I’d had with Armand, I’d decided this was absolute shit. I wasn’t a little girl anymore and it was time to take a stand. Stand up for myself and not be afraid of my father. I was his daughter, so what would he really do to me if I left?
How could I be the age I was and so afraid that he’d lock me away?
If I jumped on a plane right now, what would he do?
Nothing…
He couldn’t do anything to me if I left, so that was the plan.
Leave.
Find some way to leave this Godforsaken life and follow my own path.
It was just planning it out. That was the part I had to get my head around. To do that I needed Armand off my back. Hence why I just wanted to speak to Pa.
Leaving would take very careful planning and I’d have to do it in a subtle but effective way. I’d need money and I could imagine Pa being spiteful and cutting me off. Cutting me off so I would have to crawl back to him.
I could see it and knew that what I had to do was prepare for that if I was going to brave it and defy him.
It was all these things I’d wanted to speak to Anya about, and she wasn’t here.
The bartender made his way back to me and offered up a smile.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“Just some fruit punch,” I answered.
“Sure.” He winked at me and sauntered away to get it.
I’d have that, maybe dance a little then leave.
He came back with the drink and set it down on the counter at the same time the music became more lively with one of the popular club mixes.
Up at the bar, the music had been kept low but because that mix was popular the DJ turned it up louder here for a few seconds then lowered the volume, funneling it back to the dance floor. It was very cool the way he did it.
“Call me if you need anything else,” the bartender said with another wink, tipping his head so his blonde dreadlocks bobbled. He was new here. I’d only seen him twice before.
“Thank you.” I smiled and he left to serve another customer.
This was a cool club that Anya and I always came to.
Pa had arranged for us to have the VIP lounge when we came but tonight I’d just mingled with everyone else. It was better since I would have hated for him to call here and find out I’d signed in and then he’d send someone like Armand to come and find me. Shit like that always riled me up the wrong way.
I shuffled on my chair and got the distinct impression of eyes on me. It was weird because I was in a club brimming with people.
The sensation however was very strong. It made me turn to look in the direction I’d felt the intensity.
I was right. Boy, was I ever right.
On the second floor balcony, my gaze landed on a tall blond man so good looking the sight of him stole my breath away and lulled me to stare. We were about twenty feet away from each other but our eyes locked and even from here with the flashing club lights I could see that his eyes were the brightest blue. Like I was looking at droplets of the Mediterranean sea, against the backdrop of the club.
Our eyes locked and he definitely had my attention. Both body and mind.
The man had a face that was all angles and definition. The kind that would give a ton of male models a serious run for their money. The kind that made me want to stare at forever.
Dressed in a black biker jacket, white V-neck t-shirt and a pair of black slacks that hung low on his hips he looked every bit a masterpiece. His clothes only accentuated his hard body.
As I continue to stare my body heated up from head to toe with the hot wave that cascaded over me. While he looked cool and collected, holding an air of confidence that made him seem more alluring with his Hollywood heartthrob gorgeousness.
Alluring and interesting. Wow.
Those were two things I’d always found extremely sexy on a man.
The power to charm with the way they looked and an interesting personality.
This guy looked like he had both.
Mr. Gorgeous…
Yes… that was the perfect name for him.
Mr. Gorgeous continued to stare at me and it didn’t look like he had any intention of looking away. He looked at me like he knew me and I considered if he might.
Had Pa sent him?
He didn’t look like any of the other guys who worked for Pa.
My phone buzzed in my hand. Glancing down at the screen I saw it was Pa again and I switched it off, giving him a taste of his own medicine.
When I looked back to where Mr. Gorgeous had been standing and saw he wasn’t there anymore, disappointment settled in the pit of my stomach.
I scanned the balcony looking for him, but, nope, he’d gone. Maybe he had a girlfriend.
Or, a wife…
Oh well… at least he was pretty to look at. Guys that good looking should definitely come with some kind of warning label.
Frowning, I took my drink and hopped off the barstool deciding to make my way down to the dance floor. Sipping on the punch through the twisty straw, I savored the sweet strawberry flavor that tickled the back of my throat, and stopped by the balcony to watch the crowd below dancing under the strobe lights.
Everyone was so carefree and happy, dressed in their finest. Just dancing away and losing themselves in the music. As so they should. The DJ’s here were always off the hook amazing.
I wished I could get lost too and at least look like everyone else here who didn’t seem to have a care in the world. Instead, here I was feeling haggard with the weight of it.
I finished off my drink and placed the glass on the side with some other empties.
One dance then I’d leave. One dance to forget and then I’d go home. I was almost sure that when I got home either Pa or someone else would be waiting outside my house for me. Or, inside to piss me off.
I went down to the floor, allowing the music to envelope me with the beat. It was the kind to make your body move and move I did.
A twist and a wiggle, with my hands running down my chest down to my waist and then I found Mr. Gorgeous again.
Watching me…
Watching me this time with a slow easy grin that warmed my insides right up.
Jesus…it was like my body took on a life of its own, reacting freely in response to this man without the control of my brain.
He was on the upper deck now, across the dance floor, closer than previously. And still looking at me. His eyes roamed over my body taking me in slow and purposefully like he was committing me to memory, and I allowed myself to do the very same.
I’d never been the shy wallflower. Most times it got me in trouble. Ma always blamed our hair color. She was a platinum blonde like me. Her family were from Sicily. She said it was enough to tap into the essence of trouble. That and the hot Italian blood running through my veins always had me hyped up with sexual curiosity.
I could hardly be blamed if I had a man loo
king at me the way this one was.
Instinct told me to give him something to look at, so I did. I thought I’d turn up the sexy a little more in my moves. He seemed to like that because that grin on his face became more of a satisfied smile.
I stopped though and turned away, teasing. It was stupid fun and I had to admit, stupid was just how I felt when I looked back and saw he was gone again.
I jumped when a large hand gripped my waist.
I thought it might be him but it wasn’t. It was one of the drunk oafish guys who’d been drinking in a group when I’d first got here. This one was the most obnoxious oaf. With his burly hands and scruffy appearance he looked like he’d seem more at home in a barn, or living in the woods somewhere.
He said something to me but the music was too loud to hear him.
I shuffled away from him, but he gripped me again, pulling me flush against the solid wall of his chest. While the music enveloped me, the stench of beer and rum clung to me from his shirt. It actually burned my face.
“Let go of me,” I gasped, struggling to break free. In the sea of bodies smashing together it was almost impossible to move away.
The chance to escape the hold he had on me came when the music changed to Elliot Saint’s remix of Shades of Grey and everyone, including him, cheered at the selection.
I practically rushed away and made it to the other end of the room where I’d seen Mr. Gorgeous.
This section led to the long corridor that would take me to the back exit. It was closer to where I’d parked my car but not as well lit or populated like the rest of the club. It was the place people came to make out.
I passed a couple who really needed to get a room with the way they were touching each other.
Just as I was about to turn the corner to head outside, a hand grabbed mine and yanked me to a stop, jerking my neck.
It was the oafish guy from the dance floor.
“Hey baby, where are you going? We didn’t finish dancing.”
“We never began,” I informed him.
He tightened his grip around my wrist. “Who do you think you’re talking to like that?”
Damn it, it was times like this when I wished Pa or one of his guys was nearby. It was just my luck that the one night I chose to catch my breath, this ended up happening to me.
“Let me go,” I snapped, once again trying to break free of him.
He pulled me back to him. As he did so though, he crashed into someone. The impact made him release the hold he had on me.
I turned to see that we didn’t just bump into any old person.
It was Mr. Gorgeous.
“Why don’t you fucking watch where you’re going?” The oaf barked. He was drunk off his face but that garnered no sympathy from me whatsoever.
It didn’t seem to win him any from my new friend either, and definitely not when the oaf shoved him hard in his chest, ready to fight.
Mr. Gorgeous didn’t move and just kept his cool. The same cool he’d exhibited on the balcony.
Instead of knocking the oaf’s teeth down his throat like the guys I was used to, Mr. Gorgeous smiled and took hold of the oaf’s hand when his fist came for him. Then he just held him there in an effortless stance, not even flinching while the oaf cried out from whatever pain Mr. Gorgeous inflicted.
All I could see was him gripping his hand in a hold that didn’t look painful, but clearly was.
By the time Mr. Gorgeous let him go, he winced and held his hand to his chest wailing from pain.
“Run home asshole.” Mr. Gorgeous taunted, then the oaf practically fled from before us, stumbling over his feet in his drunkenness.
We watched him run off. Then the man I’d christened Mr. Gorgeous looked back to me. I was a little shaken, but anything I’d felt vanished the second my gaze tangled with his. Bright blue eyes considered me and fucking hell, up close he was definitely more gorgeous.
I had to blink to refocus and swallow past the lump in my throat to regain my composure.
“Word of advice…” he began. “It’s not wise to come to a place like this by yourself.” He cautioned. His voice, deep and low, oozed sex appeal from the rich baritone timbre.
Heat crept into my cheeks and made my nerves tingle.
“I come here often,” I replied. “And thank you.”
The corners of his mouth turned up into a sensual smile that made me instantly think of hot sinful things. The look he gave me and the way that his eyes dropped to my lips, then did a full sweep of my body told me he knew exactly what I was thinking, and there was a strong possibility that he was thinking it too.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
I’d expected him to say more, but he turned to go back the way he’d come.
“Wait,” I called after him.
He glanced over his shoulder and stopped.
“Don’t I at least get a name for the guy who saved me?”
He thought for a moment and seemed to decide on an answer. “A friend. I’m a friend.”
“Do I get to at least thank my friend with a drink?” I pressed, trying my luck.
“No, you should get home. It’s late. All kinds of people come out at this time.” He ramped his smile up a notch and turned to proceed down the path.
I watched him until he turned the corner.
It was such a brief meeting and chances were I’d never see him again.
In Vegas, you only tended to run into someone a second time if it was intentional.
I’d come out for a breath of fresh air and that was perhaps exactly what I got from my new friend.
That and a break from the shit, if only for a few minutes.
A distraction.
Now to get back to reality and plan out a way to deal with Pa.
My phone started ringing again as if to remind me of what I had waiting.
It was Pa, of course.
The ultimate plan was to leave, but first I had to pave the way and there was no way in hell that I was going to allow Armand to get under my skin.
Chapter Six
Jia
Women out of business.
That was the first thing Pa had preached to me when I was old enough to understand that our family was different from everybody else.
Actually, he’d started my lessons on that mantra even before I could talk.
I used to hear him with it, talking to Ma when she tried to prod, and pry. It could have been something very simple, like her wanting to know what was bugging him.
He’d always give the same answer. Women out of business.
It was something I was well versed in and something I knew to heed, given who he was.
So I should have expected the look of hell fury he cast my way when he saw me waltzing into the so called recruitment facility at eight o’clock sharp.
The place was more of a club come warehouse. Or rather a very raunchy gentlemen’s club that I’d never been allowed in. The minute I stepped in, I saw why and it wasn’t because of the naked women who served the men gathered there tonight.
It was the men. The rough look about them told me I was absolutely in the company of the worst kind known to humanity.
People who shouldn’t really see my face and know who I was. The hotel and casino were fine. I could blend in. Chances were the people who ventured there were friends not foe, or even potential foe.
Here though… not so much. It was more of a den of thieves who wanted to work for my father but may have other intentions toward him.
That didn’t stop me though. With Pa avoiding me, this was me stepping up my game.
He was still fucking avoiding me, but I got his attention now, big time and I knew the little skin tight body con I was wearing would piss him off.
Like the king he was, he was sitting at the head of a circle with the men gathered around him.
However, he practically flew over to me when he saw me walk in like I was waltzing into a party.
Grabbing me by my arm, he hustled me o
ver to the side of the room and scowled so deeply I thought he would breathe fire.
“Fuck, Jia!” he growled. He didn’t normally swear at me, but I guess it was an expression of his displeasure. “What the fuck are you doing here? And, who let you in?”
I wouldn’t tell him that. Honestly, I couldn’t quite remember the guy’s name myself. I promised the man he’d get to keep his life though, so I wasn’t going to rat him out. What got me in was the whole look. Wave a pair of tits in a guy’s face the right way and you could make him do whatever you wanted.
“That is not the problem here. I need to speak to you,” I answered in a nonchalant manner that pissed him off even more.
“Jia, you are working hard to cross me the wrong way. If you weren’t my daughter, I swear to God –”
“You’d what Pa, kill another man’s daughter?” I held his gaze and intensified my glare. “Is that what you’d do? Kill her if she annoyed you?” My voice shook and my soul quivered when I thought of the reality of it.
The truth was… he might.
The women here couldn’t have been older than me.
Living this life, I’d had to open my mind to a lot. Not that I was accepting of it, but I’d had to learn to live with what I saw and what I knew. Live with what my father did for a living and the fact that the consequences of it had taken my mother away from me.
“Jia, you cannot stay here,” he stated, baring his teeth.
“I’m staying. I’m definitely staying because we need to talk. Armand… you’ve been avoiding talking to me about him. Why would he get the impression that it would be okay to marry me? That you would allow someone like him to just have me.”
I’d been seething since the other night. Seething with the knowledge and the angst, feeling sick every time Armand looked at me like he already owned me. Then the little comments would come and twist me up from the inside out.
I thought Pa would have spoken to me last night after I got home from the club but no, he’d called and avoided talking about it. So, here I was.
“Jia, now is not the place for this discussion. Nor is it the time.”