It was a black strapless mini dress with corset detailing on top and a sweetheart neckline. The bottom was a Milano rib jersey skirt that coveredjust enough. The underwired cups pushed my boobs up, making the dress look more provocative than it normally would on someone with a smaller chest.
“You’re a DeCarlo. Your ass doesn’t need to be shown to half of Chicago.”
His words lit a fire under me. “Aren’t you a bit old to even be here?”
Emilio smirked at my attempt to insult him. “Oh, you got me,” he placed his hand over his heart, “My feelings are so hurt.” He tried his best not to laugh.
“You work for my brother,” I remind him, “You shouldn’t be speaking to me this way.”
“Flexing your muscle now, are you?” there was a gleam in his eyes as though he enjoyed the challenge.
His sarcasm got under my skin even more. He was known to be heartless, so nothing I could say would phase him.
“It’s Alfie’s birthday. I’m surprised you didn’t know since you know every damn thing that happens.” I had my hand on my hip and popped to the side.
“What I know is you were told to take him out. What I saw was you dry-humping some random guy on the dance floor.”
“We were not–"
“His hand was up your dress in an open crowd of people.”
Emilio wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t a good look at all. I had left the house feeling sexy and confident wearing this dress that looked a lot shorter on me, but it wasn’t my fault I had long legs—especially with heels on.
“If you’re going to tell my brother, just go ahead. Get it over with.” I cross my arms against my chest.
“Is that how you think of me—a tattletale?”
“Right now, you don’t want to know what I think of you.”
The side of his mouth curved slightly in amusement, “I always love when people tell me about myself. You already called me old. What else ya got?”
I stared at him, thinking about a comeback. Emilio had to be in his mid-30s, not much older than Luca, and his wasn’t phased by his age. Maybe I can pick on his outfit, but that wouldn’t work either. He was dressed nicely in a black button-down and dark jeans. His gold chain that hung around his neck was visible as the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. In my 5-inch heels, we were eye to eye and I could slightly peek down his shirt.
The door swung open, and in walked a girl, “E, are you ready to go?”
Emilio turned his attention to her, “I’ll meet you out front.” Once she left, his focus returned to me. “How about this one time I cut you some slack? If you go home now, I won’t say anything to your brother.”
I place my hands on my hip, “You’re bullshitting me.”
“Maybe,” Emilio shrugged, “But there are other things I’d rather be doing tonight than dealing with this.”
Shifting on my feet in embarrassment, “So you are going to hold this against me instead?”
“Not if you go home.”
“I don’t want to go home,” I protest.
“I’m not giving you an option.”
“I’m not giving you an alternative.”
Emilio clenched his jaw. “I’m not asking.”
“I don’t care.”
“Okay.”
I wasn’t sure what to expect as he walked toward me, but I knew there was no way he’d lay a finger on me. But to my surprise, Emilio effortlessly threw me over his shoulder.
