“I don’t give a fuck. You think I look at the prices here?”
His entourage chuckles.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Great, I’ll bring it right over.”
“Hurry your pretty ass. And where’s the fucking dancer? We’ve been staring at an empty space since we’ve sat down.”
“She should be back from her break at any moment.” I glance around, my jaw tight. I really hate that my friend’s going to have to deal with them. I spy Astrid on the other side of the room making her way over here. She’ll recognize Nelo even without any warning from me.
The bright smile she wears wavers when she sees my expression. She takes in the men sitting in the booth, and I can see recognition flash over her face. But she’s a professional. She gets up on the platform in the center of the booth and greets everyone.
I doubt Nelo noticed her at the restaurant or knows that she’s my friend. It’s for the best. An association with me is unlikely to do Astrid any favors with this group.
The fancy bottle of Dom is so big that I need the help of another girl to bring everything over. A few people cheer as we walk by them. When we get to Nelo’s booth, his friends join in on the cheering.
“I need to get a video of that,” the gaunt one says. He pulls out his phone and starts recording as we set the bucket down on the edge of their table.
I’m so distracted by the commotion that I don’t notice Astrid isn’t dancing until I straighten back up. She’s not on the platform anymore. Instead, she’s standing directly across from me, by Nelo’s side. Her face is paler than normal. It dawns on me Nelo’s hand is gripping her wrist.
What the hell.
Guests aren’t ever allowed to touch the go-go dancers.
He tugs her to sit on his knee, like she’s a toy instead of a fully functioning human being and starts whispering something into her ear. She’s trying to pull away from him, but he won’t let her. Where are the bouncers?
Nausea appears inside my gut. “Why is she in your lap?” I demand.
Nelo smirks. “You jealous, bella? Don’t worry, I’ve got another knee you can bounce on.” He releases Astrid’s wrist and pats his free knee.
“You’re disgusting.”
“You didn’t seem to think so the other night.”
Astrid tries to stand, but he won’t let her, pushing her back down with a palm on her bare thigh. She visibly stiffens. Her eyes are wide and scared as she flicks her gaze over Nelo’s friends. Astrid isn’t a weak girl, but these men are straight-up intimidating, and I can see that she’s frozen in fear.
“Let her go,” I say. My hand is curled into a fist inside the pocket of my apron, but I’m not De Rossi. I won’t be able to break Nelo’s nose.
But when his hand trails higher up Astrid’s thigh, I realize I’m furious enough to try.
“She’s not complaining, is she?” he asks in a low voice, his lips close to her neck but his eyes glued to my face. He’s doing this to piss me off.
“She’s terrified.”
“Terrified? I don’t think so. I think this pussy-” he moves his hand to cup Astrid’s crotch, “-is nice and wet for me.”
My knuckles brush against the ice pick inside my apron. Fury swarms inside of me like a dark cloud of locusts. I curl my palm around the handle. There are no thoughts. I’m not even breathing.
I jerk the ice pick out and sink it through the top of Nelo’s hand that’s resting on his knee.
Lazaro’s lessons with various sharp objects have finally paid off. I know just how hard I need to ram the pick to make it all the way through Nelo’s hand.
For a moment that stretches in my imagination, Nelo stares at the handle protruding from his hand. Then he shoves Astrid off him and lets out an astonished shout.
The music around us blares so loud it nearly drowns out the sound. Nelo’s men shoot up to their feet and yell in angry Italian. Someone grabs my arm.
“Ale!” It’s Astrid. I’ve never seen her eyes so wide. “Ale, what did you do?”
Nelo pulls out the ice pick with a pained grunt and blood streams out of his hand, dripping all over the floor.
He stands and levels his bloodshot gaze on me. “I’m going to kill you for that, bella.”
I suck in my first breath in a long while and look down at the blood on the floor. It’s like a gruesome piece of art.
My God, what have I done? I promised I’d never do this again.
The guy with the dead eyes pulls a switchblade out of his jacket.
Astrid gasps. “Ale, we have to go.” She manages to drag me a few steps before we’re stopped by two bouncers. Behind them is Maria. She must have summoned them just now. Where the hell were they moments ago when we needed their help?
“Get the fuck back,” Nelo says to them when they move to stand before Astrid and I. “We’ve got shit we need to sort out.”
“Sit down,” one of the bouncers says, eyeing the four men wearily. “Señor De Rossi is on his way.”
“Fuck you.”
Nelo and his companions start slinging insults at the bouncers, but the two men are clearly doing their hardest to deescalate by staying impressively calm. Astrid squeezes my wrist, and I whip my head around to meet her eyes.
What I see inside of them makes me stagger back.
Damiano appears on the other side of the booth and pushes past the seats. “What is going on here?” He does a double take when he sees me behind the bouncers, and then his gaze sweeps over the booth and all the involved parties. If he’s shocked at the sight of Nelo’s hand, he doesn’t show it. His eyes only narrow when he sees the other man’s switchblade.
“You brought a weapon into my club?” his voice is deadly.
Nelo’s face turns red with rage. “This bitch just cut me.” He lifts his hand. It’s looking ghastly. “Your rules don’t mean shit anymore.”
Immediately, Damiano gets in Nelo’s face. “Watch your mouth,” he warns.
“Or what?”
Around us, other patrons have begun to take note of the commotion, and some are trying to get closer to see what’s going on.
“My office. Now,” Damiano says.
“No. I think we should do this here, orphano. Let everyone see who’ll win,” Nelo taunts.
I’m close enough to see the muscles in Damiano’s back go stiff.
“I’m going to pretend all the blood in your brain is bleeding out of your hand, which is why that sentence just left your mouth. Maybe you’re not thinking straight, but I am. Look around. Does this look like a scene Il becchino would like to see on the news tomorrow?”