After my brief phone call with Bibiana, I had retreated to the library. It was stocked mainly with nonfiction and old classics, nothing that usually attracted me, but I didn’t want to go looking for Dante, nor did I want to ask my mother if she wanted to come over. She would have thought something was wrong, and even though it probably was, I didn’t want her to find out. She had been so happy since she had found out that I was going to be Dante’s wife. I didn’t want to ruin it for her by admitting that Dante couldn’t care less about my presence.
I picked up a book that taught basic Russian. The only languages I spoke were Italian and English. I might as well become familiar with the language spoken by our enemies, and it would keep me busy during the hours when Dante was busy ignoring me.
Finally, the rumbling of my stomach drew me in the direction of the kitchen. It was already almost seven o’clock but no one had called me for dinner. When I entered the kitchen, I found Zita, Gaby and two men gathered around the wooden table, eating dinner together.
I hesitated on the threshold, uncertain whether to go in, but then Zita looked in my direction and I could no longer back out.
I slipped inside, feeling decidedly overdressed in my elegant brown suit. Everyone turned toward me, and the two men immediately stood up. They wore holsters of guns and knives over their black shirts. They were both in their thirties, and they were probably also the guards.
“The Master has already had dinner in his office,” Zita informed me.
“I was busy reading anyway,” I said, hoping to sound indifferent. I focused on the two men still standing and looking at me. “We haven’t met yet.”
I walked over to them and held out my hand to the taller man with a shaved cut and a scar on his eyebrow. “I’m Valentina.”
“Enzo,” he said.
“Taft,” said the other man. He was a couple of inches smaller but much more massive.
“May I join you for a quick dinner?” I might as well try to familiarize myself with the people I will see every day for the next few years, perhaps longer.
Both men immediately agreed. Even Gaby seemed enthusiastic about the idea of my presence; only Zita had difficulty hiding her disapproval. “Are you sure this is what you want?” She pointed to the variety of cheeses, Parma ham and delicious Italian bread.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t,” I said as I took a seat next to Taft. He lifted a bottle of wine. I nodded and took one of the rustic wine glasses from a tray at the end of the table. The wine was delicious, as was the food. I kept my eyes on Gaby, who thankfully was not drinking wine. Taft and Enzo did not look at her in any way that suggested they were interested in her, which calmed me further, but I could not forget the look of fear on her face when Luca leapt to his feet. Of course he was a scary guy even on his best days, but there had been more to it than that. I had a feeling that Gaby had learned to fear men. I just had to find out why. Taft and Enzo stopped after their second glass of wine; they were still on guard duty until morning and could hardly do their drunken work, but Zita and I emptied the bottle.
With alcohol in her blood, Zita seemed much nicer.
Or maybe my drunkenness blinded me to her rudeness.
Either way, I had a great time. The men could tell dirty jokes and soon forgot that I was practically their boss.
After another particularly obscene joke in which Gaby hid her face in her hands and I laughed like I hadn’t laughed in a long time, the kitchen door opened and Dante entered. His eyes quickly scanned the room until he decided on his men and then on me. His jaw tensed as he glared at Taft and Enzo. “Shouldn’t you be outside keeping watch?” asked Dante in a dangerously quiet voice.
Both men immediately got up. They fled the kitchen without adding anything else.
“Gaby and I should go home, too. Tomorrow we will clean the kitchen, ” said Zita as she grabbed her coat and put it on.
“Let’s go, Gaby.” Gaby gave me an apologetic look, even though she had done nothing wrong.
Two minutes later, Dante and I were alone in the kitchen. I hadn’t done anything forbidden, so I wasn’t going to apologize. I drained my red wine, staring at Dante, who seemed to become perfectly still as he watched me.
As I prepared to pounce, it went through my head. I stood up from my chair. In a standing position, at least, I did not need to tilt my head completely back to look Dante in the eye.
“Why did you eat with Enzo and Taft?”
I almost laughed. “Gaby and Zita were there, too.” Was he jealous? Or did he think I was distracting the men from their work?
“You could have eaten in the dining room.”
“Alone?” I asked in a defiant tone.
Dante advanced toward me, and despite my best intentions, I stood frozen. “I don’t play games, Valentina. If there’s something you don’t like, say it and don’t try to provoke me.
He was so close that the spicy scent of his aftershave flooded my nose. I had to fight the urge to grab him by the lapel and draw him to me for a kiss.
“I wasn’t trying to provoke you,” I said in a practical tone. “I was hungry and didn’t want to eat alone, so I decided to eat in the kitchen.”
“You should keep your distance from the guards. I don’t want people to misinterpret your friendliness as something else .
I took a step back. “Are you accusing me of flirting with your men?”
“No,” he said simply. “We would have a different kind of conversation if I thought you were flirting with them.”
I lifted my chin, not wanting to let him intimidate me, no matter how intimidating he was. “I’m not going to eat alone.”
“Would you prefer to have dinner together every night?”
“Of course I do,” I said exasperatedly. There were many things I wanted to do together with him at night. “We are married. Isn’t that what married people do?” “Did you and Antonio eat together?”
“Yes, unless he was away on business.” Or she had a date with her lover Frank.
Dante nodded, as if filing the information away. I had once heard someone say that he had a photographic memory, which made him a difficult opponent to outsmart, but I wasn’t sure if that was true.
I softened my voice. “What about you and your first wife?
Did you eat together?”
I could practically see his defenses rise. A veil of cold emotionlessness seemed to slide over his face. He pulled up his sleeve, revealing his gold watch. “It’s late. I have an early morning with meetings in our casinos.
“Oh sure.”
“You don’t have to go to bed if you’re not tired.”
“No, wine makes me sleepy.” We both left the kitchen and headed upstairs. This time Dante disappeared first into the bathroom. I rummaged through the drawer looking for a skimpy satin camisole and matching panties that barely covered my butt. Perhaps this would have made Dante’s cold blood boil .
I walked nervously around the bedroom, wondering if that would be the night. Perhaps yesterday had been some kind of grace period. The bathroom door opened and Dante walked back into the bedroom. Like yesterday he was naked from the waist up. I allowed myself a few moments to admire his body. Even the scars did not make him any less gorgeous. If possible, they increased his sensuality. Dante paused, and I quickly peeled my eyes away and ran to the bathroom.
I took a quick shower and brushed my teeth before slipping into my lingerie. Showtime. I came out of the bathroom. Dante was already in bed, iPad in hand and his back leaning against the headboard. He looked up, roaming the length of my body, lingering on all the right spots. Anticipation mixed with nervousness filled me as I walked slowly toward the bed, making sure Dante could see me well. He hadn’t looked away yet, but he hadn’t even put down his iPad. I lay down beside him, my back resting against the headboard. I didn’t bother to pull up the covers. I wanted Dante to see me as much as possible.
I met his gaze. As usual, his eyes were unreadable, but they were not as cold as usual. He placed the iPad on the bedside table and I almost breathed a sigh of relief, but then he shifted and lay down. Confused, I did the same, but rolled onto my side, facing him. He had not yet turned off the lights. That had to be a good sign and I knew he kept looking toward my breasts. If I had been more experienced I would have kicked things off, but I was afraid of revealing my inexperience to Dante if I took a chance. If he made the first move, I could follow him and hopefully appear as the experienced woman I was supposed to be.
Dante looked away, closed his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his belly. His jaw was clenched tightly.
Was he angry? He looked like he was about to burst. Maybe he didn’t like the fact that I was so outspoken and practically thrusting my breasts in his face. Maybe he preferred his women demure and afraid of their own shadow.
Frustrated, I rolled onto my back as well. “What happened to Gaby?” If we didn’t have sex, we might as well talk.
Anything was better than awkward silence.
Dante kept his eyes closed. “What do you mean?”
“She said she’s been working for you for three years, but she’s only seventeen. Shouldn’t he go to school?”
Dante’s eyes opened, cold and blue, and stared firmly at the ceiling. “Three years ago we attacked two Russian clubs in retaliation. They make most of their money from human trafficking. The women in their clubs are mostly sex slaves. Women and girls kidnapped and then forced into prostitution. When we took over the two clubs, we had to figure out what to do with the women. We couldn’t let them run wild for Chicago after what they had witnessed.”
My stomach churned. “Did you kill them?”
Dante didn’t even move. “Most of them were illegal immigrants. We sent them back to Ukraine or Russia. The others were transferred. Those who wanted to work in our clubs, we held them back.”
“So what about Gaby?” “She was a child. The younger girls we found were sent to families, where they could work as maids or cooks.”
“Or become lovers,” I said, because I had no doubt that some Made Men could not keep their hands off a helpless girl under their roof.
Dante scowled. “Even among Made Men, pedophilia is not tolerated, Valentina.” “I know, but Gaby doesn’t exactly look like a child anymore, and neither do the other girls you captured, I assume.”
Dante fixed me with a hard stare. “Are you suggesting that I touched Gaby?”
“She almost died of fright today when Luca moved in. Maybe one of your men-” “No,” Dante said firmly. “She has not been abused since she entered this house. She is under my protection. My men know that.”
“All right.” I believed him, and I also believed that none of his men dared to go against Dante’s direct orders. If Gaby was under his protection, she was safe. “I bet those girls would have made you a lot of money. There’s a reason the Russians kidnap girls. Why do they scruple them? It’s not like the Outfit doesn’t have its own clubs with prostitutes, and it’s not like those women can just stop working for the mob whenever they want. I was honestly curious.
After all, Dante was a murderer.
“The Outfit does not deal with sex slaves. The women in our clubs start working for us of their own free will and know that they will be tied to us forever. We make enough money from our casinos and drugs, we don’t need sex slaves or illegal runs like the Russians and the Familia in Las Vegas.
“What about in New York? Do they deal in sex slaves?”
“NO. This is really just the Vegas Familia. I’m not saying there aren’t voices in the Outfit that would like to change that, but as long as I’m Chief that’s not going to happen.
“All right,” I said.
Dante’s eyes softened for a moment but then he turned and turned out the lights.
“Good night,” I whispered. I was still disappointed that Dante hadn’t touched me, but at least he had spoken to me as if we were equals, not as if I were a clueless woman who didn’t need to know anything about the business.
“Good night, Valentina,” Dante said into the darkness. There was something in his voice that I could not identify and I was too tired to try.