“Because if you don’t, you’re just a judgmental jerk who gets off on putting other people down. Don’t you want to know if you’re right about me? Or are you scared to be proven wrong?”
“Hardly.”
“Then take the deal.”
A beat drops, and the crowd below us erupts in excited shouts, but De Rossi is still as he considers my offer. I peer into his eyes. Now that he’s finally shut that unbearable mouth, I am once again aware that he’s a very, very attractive man. He really doesn’t deserve those damn cheekbones or that broad forehead or those lips that seem like they’d be surprisingly soft to touch.
My stomach flutters.
A steady pulse appears between my legs.
My God, what’s wrong with me? I’m not here to admire him. I’m here to get a job so that I can keep a roof over my head.
His own gaze slithers over my body, as if I finally convinced him I’m worth a second glance.
His jaw works, and then he nods. “Fine. One week. Be here on Monday, eleven am.”
A slow, triumphant smile spreads across my lips. “I’ll be here.”
“Fine.”
“Great.”
He gives me one final weary look and then makes a small gesture with his hand at someone behind me.
Ras appears at the top of the stairs.
“She’s ready to leave,” De Rossi says after a moment.
“I’ll walk you out.” Ras extends his hand my way.
I take it, and De Rossi frowns. He’s probably already regretting our deal. As I descend the steps, I can feel his devilish black eyes boring a hole through the back of my head.
I already know he’s not going to make it easy, but I’ve survived two months of hell with Lazaro. I can make it through a week with De Rossi, no matter what he throws my way.
DAMIANO
I’m not myself tonight.
The weight in my chest is heavy. The pain inside my head is the kind that has no simple cure.
When I close my eyes, I see flames racing up my mother’s legs as she stands in the kitchen of my childhood home on the outskirts of Casal di Principe. Whenever I smell gasoline, I think of that night.
Whenever I suffer a failure, I remember the screams she made.
“You didn’t need to come in.”
I blink. Ras is sitting on the other side of the desk. We’re in my office, about a hundred meters from the main dancefloor of Revolvr, but the soundproof walls ensure no sound seeps in. How is it that I didn’t hear him come in? Cazzo.
“If I wasn’t here, I’d be climbing the walls back home,” I say to my right-hand man. It’s true. I had no distractions to keep me occupied. Which begs the question-why the fuck did I let that girl walk away earlier when I had every intention of making her into my distraction tonight?
Ale Romero. When I saw her down by the bar, I swear, I felt chills. In ancient times, kings would have waged wars over a woman like her. Exquisite face, shapely tits, tight ass, and shiny black hair that nearly reached her trim waist. I could feel the stirrings of madness inside of me. I had a strong suspicion she regularly drove men insane.
My sour mood had lifted when I saw her moving to the entrance of my balcony. I’d been sure she wanted to fuck me right there. It wouldn’t have been the first time.
Most nights, all I have to do is show up, and the women appear. That’s just how it works when you own half of the world’s most famous island-in my portfolio of clubs, hotels, and restaurants, Revolvr is just the crown jewel.
Instead, she’d asked for a job.
That had taken me aback, which doesn’t happen often. I’m usually good at reading people’s intent, but even that skill of mine appeared to be compromised after my shitshow of a morning. It pissed me off. I’d wanted her, but I could just tell she’d make me work for it. Normally, I’d love the challenge, but tonight, I’m in no fucking mood to play games.
I went off on her despite already being hard for her. When she showed a bit of backbone instead of backing down, I did something I could only attribute to my agitated state of mind.
I gave in.
Ras props his ankle on his knee. “If you’re thinking about what happened, maybe we should talk ab-”
“I’m done talking about it,” I bite out. “Did they clean up the garage?”
“Yes, the body’s gone.”
“Good. There’s nothing more to do until we get more information.” Ras knows it as well as me. Hypotheses and suspicions aren’t enough to make an accusation against our don.
He studies me for a moment and then narrows his eyes. “Then what the fuck is on your mind? You’re fixated on something.”
I glare at him. Sometimes, he’s able to read me too well.
I shouldn’t have let her leave. I should have leaned into the wicked thought I had when she said she’d do anything to get the job. Peel off that dress, climb onto my cock, and bounce.
That visual sends a pulse to my groin. It feels particularly filthy, because that’s not how I hire my employees. My morals might be loose by most standards, but I wouldn’t get to where I am by doing stupid shit like that at my legitimate businesses. Reputation is everything in Ibiza.
“It’s that girl, isn’t it?” Ras asks, studying my sullen expression. “If you wanted her, why did you let her go?
“I didn’t,” I say. “She’ll be here Monday.”
That throws him off. “What do you mean?”
“She’s going to audition for a job. I agreed to a week-long trial.”
Ras touches his fingers to his forehead and looks up at me. “Are you fucking serious?”
“I’m really not in a joking mood.”
This earns me a frustrated groan. “What trial? You know I don’t have time for this with everything going on.”
Ras is the only person who’s allowed to speak to me that way. Without each other, we’d both be dead ten times over. Plus, he’s family. Still, when I give him a dark look, he straightens his back and makes a tiny nod. It’s his way of acknowledging now’s not the time to test my patience.
He’s not wrong though. Why the fuck did I agree to this stupid trial? I can call it off, but I don’t like breaking my word. I might as well have a bit of fun tormenting Romero the way the memory of her is tormenting me now. She won’t last more than a few days. If she’s a hard worker, then I’m a fucking priest.