3

Niccolò Vitale

Luciano and I stood watching the dance floor, elbows on the railing. My eyes were drawn to one girl in particular who was wearing a short dress that obviously was not hers, based on uncomfortably she seemed with the length of it-or rather the lack of it.

Every five seconds or so, she'd pull It down, and glare at the fabric when it didn't stay at her knees. I watched her cautiously eye every man who got near her, as her friend tried to coerce her into dancing.

The girl would shake her head emphatically, say something inaudible, and scoot back to the bar.

Luciano was not happy.

"She's a...kid, Niccolò."

I watch her as I answer nonchalantly. "I told you, I find her innocence intriguing."

He scoffs. "You mean you want to corrupt her."

I shoot him a look, grinning wickedly. "Oh, as much I possibly can."

He throws his hands up in defeat.

"Dio mio, cugino."

(My God, cousin)

I shrug. He asked.

"So will you go and talk to her, and just stay here like a pedophile and watch her?"

I glare at him from the corner of my eye.

"Actually, this is just a coincidence. I called you here for him," I nod in the subjects direction.

Luciano's eyes quickly follow my lead, finding the man who had been trying to talk to her all night.

"I know you weren't that creepy."

I quirk a brow at him in silent question, go which he nods sadly. "Sí, you are that creepy aren't you."

I simply sigh. "I haven't decided what to do. I wanted your advice."

Luciano's sips his Henessesy blissfully. He doesn't drink at home anymore on account of the kids.

He also rarely leaves his home now, so he rarely drinks.

"I gave you the position because I thought you could handle it, cugino."

"And I can," I insist. "But I want your opinion. Is that so wrong?"

He rolls his eyes. "What do you think you should do?"

I eye the man again. "Get rid of him before he becomes a bigger problem."

"How long have you suspected he might be against the take over?"

"Since it began," The man reaches out to touch her-Manon. She moves away from his hand, and scoots over a seat, much to my amusement.

"Then do what you think is best. I'm sure you will make a good decision."

He's useless.

"Go home to your wife, Lucy. I've got some work to do."

He glares at me. "You may be Capo now, but you still don't tell me what to do."

Although we both know he's going to leave anyway, he's so hard headed, that he'll stay an extra 30 minutes, just to prove I'm not the boss of him.

Childish ass. "Fine. Stay here. Leave, I don't care."

"I will," He hollers at my back.

I shake my head, rolling my eyes.

• • •

Manon

This guy will not give up, will he?

“C'mon baby girl,” He smirked, “Come home with me.”

I wiggle away from him. “No thank you,” I decline for the 43rd time tonight. “I'm okay.”

“I know you like me,” He insisted.

At this point I'm about to call security. This is ridiculous. How did I let Terry talk me into this?

“Sir,” A man with an accent in a suit calls to the guy who's been harassing me all night.

He frowns. “Who are you?”

The man cleared his throat. “We have some business together. If you'd take a walk with me—”

“I don't got no business with—”

“Your boss wants to see you,” The suited man emphatically states. That makes the creep stop his sentence.

“Fine." he turns to me. “Later gorgeous.”

I give him a disgusted look saying nothing. With that, he leaves with suited man, who is either so big I can see his hard on through his suit, or is carrying a gun.

Honestly, either one of those options are feasible.

Speaking of which...a strong body pressed up against me. He was faces and the bar while I was facing away from thee bar.

“Ah, Manon, how lovely to here.”

I look up, my eye catching his. Niccoló's.

“Is it just me, or are you happy to see me?” I ask dryly.

He grins, his pearly whites on display. “It's my gun.”

Color drained from my face. “No chance you're a police officer is it?”

He shook his head emphatically.

“No, but would you feel better if I told you I had a permit?”

“I'd feel better if you showed me your permit.”

Again, he grinned at me, taking out his wallet. He fished a card out and showed it to me.

Huh, well what do you know? He has a permit for a concealed carry.

Doesn't exactly feel me with the upmost confidence, but it does help a bit.

“Feel better, pulchino?”

“Not really,” I answer honestly, “But I do appreciate the effort."

He motions for the bartender to get him a drink.

“What are doing in a place like this, with a dress like that, pulchino?”

I glare at him indignantly. “What's that suppose to mean?”

He shrugs, picking up his drink. “You seem like the type of girl who wears sweatshirts, and reads quietly for fun. It's obvious you don't own that dress, because you keep uncomfortably pulling down. You also don't seem like the type to pay for a dress you don't like.”

He looks back at me. “But I could be wrong. What do I know?”

He's... exactly right. He winks at me, making me look away.

“No, you're right. This isn't really my scene.”

“If it isn't your scene, I would choose another one.” He sets down his drink and a twenty dollar bill.

“I'll see you around pulchino.”

And with that he leaves. So I'm dumbfounded, sitting there going over what the hell just happened.

“Can I get a Coke?”

I pull out my card to pay, but the bartender puts out his hand to stop me. “It's paid for.”

I don't even have to ask who.

What do you think so far? Thanks for reading!

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