“Back in Chicago?”
“For the weekend. Can’t miss Tiffany’s party.”
The fourth of July was around the corner, and Tiffany was throwing her yearly epic bash on a rooftop hotel for a pool party. It was always full of Chicago’s finest men and women.
“What plans do you have tonight?”
“Meeting Emilio and some chick at Chaos tonight.”
My stomach dropped. Emilio said he was meeting Luca.
“What chick?” I asked.
“Some blonde. She comes to Chicago from time to time.”
My blood boiled while I was getting off the phone. I felt like a fool, but I won’t be made one. I texted Natasha and Tiffany that we were having a girl’s night.
The place was packed out as we made our way through the crowd. The girls danced as we walked to the bar while I kept my eyes open to see whether I could spot Emilio. The club was hot, and even though I was dressed in a cropped pink tank top and matching skirt, my body was sweating. After a round of shots, I shouted to them over the music that I was going to the restroom. Leaving them, I head toward the private room area; he had to be there, but nothing. The only other place was the showroom. Although she looked familiar, I couldn’t place my finger on who she was.
Unlike last time, the two guards let me in without a fuss. Walking in, the room was fuller than last time. Scanning the place, I see Alfie seated on achair, speaking to a woman I’ve never seen before. She was blonde, and I wondered if it was the one Emilio was meeting up with. As I got closer, I could make out the features of her face. Her blue eyes sparkled, her blonde hair tied into a bun, and I thought her red lipstick made her look cheap.
“Having fun?” I asked as I joined them.
Alfie was surprised to see me. “B, how’d you get in here?”
“I’m a DeCarlo, remember?” Part of me felt guilty rubbing it in his face, knowing the truth. I need to remind myself to hold back those kinds of comments. “Who’s this?”
The blonde looked up at me, sizing me up. I’d never gotten into a fistfight before, and I was sure if that happened right now, she would win. Any woman dressed in leather pants in June was ready to brawl at anytime.
“Grace,” she smiled, extending her hand.
“Bethany,” I returned the gesture.
She turns back to Alfie, “Kid, where the hell is Emilio? I don’t have all night.”
“He should be around here; I’ll check the bar.”
He left us there, and to me, it felt awkward, but Grace leaned back in her chair and swung one long leg over the other. Her pant leg rose a bit, and I saw a butterfly tattoo. She screamed badass—something that would catch Emilio’s attention for sure. I couldn’t help but feel jealous and insecure. Unlike Grace, I was the typical rich brat in Emilio’s eyes.
“So you’re Luca’s sister?”
“That’s right,” I smile.
“Aria’s mentioned you.”
“Me?” I was surprised.
“She’s mentioned you’ve been making her feel welcome here.”
I smiled but felt guilty; my kindness was just a ploy to get her to trust me and use whatever she may say or do against her. That’s the only reason Luca wanted me to start a friendship.
“Chicago is a tough city; having a friend on your side is good.”
“I heard she met your mother briefly,” Grace was laughing. “I wish I was a fly on that wall.”
Again, I felt guilty for that, too. My mother wasn’t happy with Aria being here and staying with Luca, which she wouldn’t have known if I didn’t open my mouth.
“You must be good friends with Aria if she told you that.”
