“Like the bartender?” I smirk just as my phone vibrates in my pocket.
I pull it out and click play.
Little Russo: I’m looking for something sweet to eat after ourintense workout session, but you don’t have anything good. How do you live like this?
“Who are you texting with?” she asks.
“No one.” I pocket my phone.
“Really? So, you were just smiling at no one?”
“If you must know, it was Dani.” I clear my throat. “Daniella Russo. Lorenzo’s sister. She’s staying with me until Lorenzo gets out or we find that asshole Enrique.”
“Hmm …”
“What?”
“Nothing.” She shrugs, looking smug as fuck.
“Okay, Miss Watch and Learn How to Properly Communicate. Why don’t you properly communicate what the hell your littlehmmwas for?”
She smirks, and I groan, knowing exactly where her mind went.
“It’s not what you’re thinking.”
Even if a huge part of me wishes it were.
“I didn’t even say anything,” she points out.
“No, but I know what you’re thinking.”
“Because you were already thinking it.” She cackles.
“She’s Lorenzo’s sister,” I say again. “His much, much younger sister. Twelve years younger, to be exact.”
“So?” She furrows her brows like she genuinely doesn’t see the issue here.
“So, she’s off-limits.”
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“It’s just … I saw the way you smiled when you read her text. And it wasn’t your usual scaryI just did something sinistersmile. It was genuine, and it looked good on you.”
She throws the rest of her drink back and stands.
“Where are you going?”
She nods toward a businessman in a suit. “My date for the evening just arrived.”
“You came here to meet up with someone else?” I ask, mildly offended.
“I’m sure as hell not going home with you.” She fake gags.
The guy spots her and walks over. “Brielle,” he says, placing one hand along her back and extending his other to shake mine. “And you must be her brother. I’m?—”
“Theodore DeSantis,” I finish for him, standing from my seat, so I’m towering over him.
