Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Vincent offered a small, mocking salute in Dario's direction before turning to leave. As he walked away, I noticed he made a subtle gesture toward his brother, who immediately stood and moved toward a different exit, their coordinated departure so smooth it must have been practiced.
Relief washed over me as Vincent disappeared into the crowd, but it was quickly replaced by a lingering unease I couldn't shake. I hadn't understood half of what had just happened, but I recognized a threat when I heard one, however elegantly it was disguised.
I glanced toward where Dario had been standing, but he was gone. A moment later, I saw him striding purposefully toward the private offices, his normally composed face a mask of barely contained rage. Marcus, his ever present shadow, followed close behind, his expression equally grim.
Something had just happened. Something significant. And somehow, without knowing how or why, I found myself caught in the middle of it. There was no disguising what part I played. A pawn. Only I was in the middle of this battle of wills, a game I didn’t understand, being played by men whose true nature I had no way of divining.
Chapter Eleven
Belle
I wiped down the last section of the bar, my arms heavy with fatigue. The night had stretched longer than usual, Vincent Rossi's questions still circling my mind like vultures. The club had emptied an hour ago, leaving behind the familiar scent of spilled liquor and expensive perfume. Carlos had already left, tossing me a sympathetic smile as he'd headed out. I just wanted to crawl home, sink into my bathtub, and forget the way Rossi's cold eyes had assessed me like merchandise at auction.
"You're the last one closing?" Mr. Wilson asked, appearing at the end of the bar with his clipboard, probably taking a quick inventory. Some of the select liquors could run low before stock was supposed to arrive and Mr. Wilson liked to keep on top of things.
"Just finished," I replied, wringing out my rag one final time. "Need to grab my stuff from the back and I'm out."
He nodded, making a note. "Good work tonight. That Rossi character—" He paused, seemed to reconsider whatever he'd been about to say. "Just be careful heading home." The warning in his voice added another layer to my unease. Something about Vincent Rossi had clearly rattled more than just me.
“Thanks for the advice,” I murmured. “He kinda gave me the creeps.”
“He’s not a man one should let close to them.” Mr. Wilson seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “Mr. Luca needs to know about him making you uncomfortable.” Where Mr. Wilson had been careful in his wording before, now he seemed almost angry. “Rossi keeps pushing and pushing…” He shook his head and took a deep breath. “Which is nothing for you to worry about. I’ll take care of this.”
“Please, don’t tell Mr. Luca.” I was practically begging now. “I’ve caused enough trouble since I’ve been here. I just want to do my job and go home.”
“Belle, Vittorio Luca needs to cut Vincent Rossi off before he decides he wants to do more than make you uncomfortable at your place of employment. Trust me when I tell you, he will not be pleased if I keep this from him.” Mr. Wilson leveled a look on me. “Neither will Dario.”
I winced. “Please don’t make a fuss.” I spoke softly, really wishing the older man would let the whole incident go. “I’m not… I don’t want to…” I took a breath, closing my eyes and giving my head a little shake. “I don’t want anyone’s attention, Mr. Wilson. Not Mr. Luca’s, and certainly not Mr. Rossi’s.”
Mr. Wilson gave me a hard look, studying me. I ducked my head, not wanting to look at him. To my surprise, he reached out and lifted my chin gently to force me to look up at him. “I’m afraid you already have, child.”
“I know all I am is a pawn in whatever game everyone is playing. Less than a pawn, whatever that is. But, the truth is, I don’t want to play this game. I just want to make enough money to pay my bills and have a place to live. It doesn’t even have to be a nice place. Just someplace where I’m safe and I have a sturdy roof over my head.” I was babbling now, but I wasn’t altogether sure I could stop myself from having a full blown panic attack. “This place pays so good, Mr. Wilson. And the tips? I can’t make this kind of money anywhere else. I’m not looking to cash in or anything. I don’t want—”
“Hush now, Belle.” Mr. Wilson wasn’t unkind. In fact, he stepped closer and laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Nothing is your fault, and you’re not getting fired.” Yeah. That wasn’t exactly true though, was it? I’d kissed Dario. He hadn’t been the one to initiate that encounter. He’d damned sure finished it though.