Tease
For the first time since I arrived in the Hamptons, I give a grin.
Chapter Two
Nick
There’s only one man who could make me sit through this wedding bullshit, and it’s the man sitting next to me. Luca D’Amato leans in and murmurs: “Won’t be too long now.” He’s picked up on my impatience. Don Joseph Alessi has just started his speech, and if I know Joe, it’ll be too long and too dull. But I nod back to Luca and I try to look respectful as the old man drones.
We have one purpose here in the Hamptons, and I’ll be happier once we get to it. This isn’t the first wedding Luca’s made me sit through, though we didn’t know each other except to nod to at the last one. But at least his own was more interesting, if only because I expected a gunfight to break out in the middle. It never did, but that tension was in the air, the electric feel of it sliding around that room.
The same tension was swirling around here earlier, too, but it’s gone now, and so is my interest. After the buffet dinner was done, I came over here from the singles table to escape. I didn’t like it there much, but I’m not sure I like it here much more after I pulled over a chair and sat down to face a table of happy couples. It could give a man a complex. The Boss’s husband, Finch, is hanging off him right now, whispering something sexy in his ear. I can’t hear it, but I can still tell it’s something dirty from the way Luca’s eyes half-close, that particular smile that only ever appears for Finch.
Part of me might feel superior, watching the Boss show that kind of affection in public, because most times I’d think of it as a weakness. But here and now, it only makesmeenvious andhimmore powerful. Don Morelli couldn’t give a fuck if he makes the other Families uncomfortable with his PDAs. Hell, half the time I think that’s what he’s going for. And right now, more than ever before, we need the other Families to believe we are powerful. Untouchable. Indestructible.
To my right, Hudson Taylor is leaning back into the arms of Gio Carlucci, and while Hudson watches Don Alessi with rapt attention, I can tell Carlucci’s feeling him up under the napkin in his lap. Joe Alessi is just not that fucking interesting to anyone—Hudson isn’t fooling me with his fixed stare.
Across the table, Finch’s priest friend Aidan leans into Teo Vitali, and whispers something in his ear—something about the flowers, judging by the way Vitali looks around at them. Vitali grins and puts his arm around the kid’s shoulders, pulling him closer, murmuring something back to him. Those two rival the Boss and his husband sometimes for PDAs.
One of these days we might all get slaughtered for it.
Alessi’s finally done. I drain my drink, hoping that’s it for the speeches, but now the damn groom gets up, and I slump back into my seat with a stifled groan.
“You need to relax,” Luca says to me with a grin. Easy enough for him to say when he has sex on tap, in the form of his husband. “You know, we’re here to celebrate. Why don’t you take your pick? There’s plenty here who’d jump at the chance.”
Since he made meCaporegime, Luca and I have gotten close, much closer than he is with his other Capos, and some of them—the older ones—dislike me for it. But Luca and I are of a similar age, and similarly ambitious, although I don’t want to sit where he sits. That seat is a target. Me, I like power and money without the aggravation you get from other Families trying to kill you every step you take. I like being Capo just fine, though I’d take Underboss if it was offered. And I think it might be, sooner rather than later. Luca’s just biding his time, waiting for something only he knows.
Stability, maybe. Once he names me, those older Capos will feel aggrieved because they’ve been around a long time, as though age and longevity are the only things that make for a good Underboss. But as long as Luca’s putting money in their pockets, they’ll come around.
I look around the room, searching the faces. Luca’s right; I should just take my pick tonight. Find a someone to relax with. The problem is, the only way I find myself wanting to relax these days is with someone Ishouldn’tbe fucking, and who isn’t even here tonight: Carlo Bianchi.
He’s safe as far as keeping his mouth shut, but his law firm has some rule about it—and something in me wants to keep it quiet from my Family as well, even from Luca, who’s closer to me now than a brother. He knows all my deeds and misdeeds, because he’s ordered them. And I know his, even the ones he doesn’tknowI know.
That’s why I’d make a good Underboss.
I glance at the bar, wondering if I could slip away and have a drink on my own, listen to some of the loose-lipped chatter, and speak of the devil—there he is, that sneaky little motherfucker. I recognize him even with his back to me.
“The hell is Bianchi doing here?” I mutter to Luca.
“He’s here to help draw up the agreements after the meeting.”
“Not the old bastard. Carlo.”
Luca shrugs, and whether that means he doesn’t know or he doesn’t see any difference between the two Bianchis, I don’t know. As I watch Bianchi the Younger, he swivels around on the barstool and leans back, spreading his legs wide so his pants stretch tight across his crotch. I catch myself licking my lips.
He’s staring at someone. I follow his eyes—the groom, Gatti. And when I look back at Bianchi, he’s running a cheeky hand up and down his thigh like he’s trying to stimulate himself, his tongue dipping out over his bottom lip.
Gatti stops dead.
Huh. So Gatti is gay, or bi, or just likes dipping his wick with his own kind from time to time. Luca’s no fool; I happen to know that wide-eyed Mafia princess he’s giving away to the Giulianos is one smart little cookie. She’s a plant, a pair of eyes and ears in the Giuliano stronghold.
But judging by Carlo’s preening and the groom’s reaction,they’vefucked as well.
Okay.
Fine.
Good to know, actually. If Sophia Vicente can’t keep Gatti’s interest, maybe Bianchi Junior can be a honeytrap for us. That’s the kind of intel I like to know. Useful.
