"I wouldn't know what's normal," I managed, my voice stiffer than I intended. "As I said, I haven’t been here long and none of the other staff have been assaulted that I’m aware of."
Vincent's smile remained fixed, but his eyes hardened. "Come now, Belle. False modesty doesn't suit you. Dario Luca personally intervened when a patron touched you. That's hardly standard procedure for a new employee, is it?"
I set the finished drink on a server's tray with trembling hands, grateful for the momentary distraction. When I looked up again, I noticed movement in my peripheral vision. Across the crowded club floor, partially obscured by dancing bodies and the shifting lights, stood Dario. His tall figure was unmistakable, his posture rigid as he watched our interaction. Even at this distance, I could see the tension in his jaw, the controlled anger in his stance. Our gaze met briefly before I looked away, unnerved by the intensity of his gaze. This whole situation had me tied up in knots. If I didn’t get out of here soon, I thought I might throw up.
"Mr. Luca is concerned about all his employees' welfare," I said, the rehearsed line sounding hollow even to myself.
Vincent laughed softly. "Of course he is. Dario has always been so... conscientious." The word dripped with sarcasm.
Heat flooded my face, anger overriding fear for a moment. "I really believe this conversation is inappropriate."
"Is it?" Vincent took another sip of his drink, unruffled by my reaction. "I'm simply trying to understand the dynamic here. Dario can be quite temperamental. Has he ever lost his temper with you?"
I busied myself wiping down the bar, desperate for this conversation to end. "I really can't discuss my employer with customers, sir."
As I moved along the bar, trying to put some distance between us, I became aware of another presence. In a shadowy corner near the VIP section sat a man who bore a subtle resemblance to Vincent. Younger than Vincent, this man had a leaner build with a more reserved demeanor. Something in the look of his jaw marked them as related. He nursed a drink, seemingly absorbed in his phone, but I noticed how his gaze occasionally flicked up to where Vincent and I stood. Once, their eyes met across the room in a moment of silent communication that sent a chill down my spine.
Vincent followed my line of sight and smiled. "Ah, I see you've noticed my brother, Anthony. He's the serious one in the family. All business, that boy." He turned back to me, his expression softening into something that might have looked like concern if it had reached his eyes. "I should warn you, Belle. Dario Luca isn't known for his constancy. His attention, while flattering, rarely lasts." My hands stilled on the bar rag, trying to ignore the man, but he wouldn’t take the hint. "You should ask around about him and that lovely cocktail waitress last summer. What was her name? Elisa? Elena?" He snapped his fingers as if trying to recall. "No matter. She's not around anymore, is she?" A knot of dread formed in my stomach. This wasn't the first time someone had alluded to a previous waitress who'd caught Dario's eye. Valentina had mentioned her too, with the same ominous tone.
Vincent's phone buzzed in his pocket. He retrieved it, glancing at the screen with a slight smile before finishing his drink in one smooth swallow. "Business calls, I'm afraid." He placed a hundred dollar bill on the bar. "Keep the change, Belle. Consider it an investment in our friendship."
I didn't move to take the money. "We're not friends, Mr. Rossi."
His smile widened, genuine amusement flickering in his eyes. "Not yet, perhaps. But circumstances have a way of creating unexpected alliances." He leaned in, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. "It's been a pleasure, Belle. I'm sure we'll meet again soon."
As Vincent straightened, his gaze shifted over my shoulder, and his smile took on a sharper edge. I turned slightly to see Dario had moved closer, still watching us with undisguised fury. His hands were clenched at his sides, knuckles white with restrained anger.
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'dbeen 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.”
