I let go of her throat as the driver pulls into the club’s parking area. Out of the window, I see the doormen already eyeing the vehicle, but they stay put.
“Yes,” I reply. “And listen out for anything you think would interest me.”
“That’s not helpful,” she hisses, frustration blooming on her cheeks like a fever.
I stroke my thumb over her wrist, feeling her pulse jump like a trapped animal beneath my touch. “You’re not here so I can help you,” I remind her. “You’re earning your life by helping me. Besides, if I knew exactly what and who, I wouldn’t need you.”
She purses her lips.“So I’m just supposed to… what? Stand around looking pretty and collect gossip?”
I can’t help smirking at the incredulity in her tone. “You’re allowed to sit down,” I clarify as I open the car door.
Inside, the Leone Room thrums with its usual energy—the blend of business and pleasure that makes it uniquely mine. Music pulses just loud enough to cover private conversations, lighting sculpted to create shadows perfect for discretion.
Every eye turns to us as we enter, conversations pausing mid-sentence. I feel Raven’s posture stiffen beside me, but she keeps her chin high.
Whispers follow in our wake. I catch fragments of conversation.
“It’s true. Matteo’s seeing someone…”
“… never brings women here…”
“… the blonde in the hat is with Matteo…”
I find myself enjoying the ripple of unease that spreads as I acknowledge greetings with curt nods. Raven walks beside me, somehow making my possessive guidance look like an escort of honor.
Her chin is high, her steps confident in those fuck-me boots. She fits here in a way that should worry me but instead feeds some primal satisfaction I hadn’t anticipated.
I slide my arm around her waist, pulling her flush against me. “Look at all those men drooling over you,” I murmur. “They want what belongs to me.”
Before she can respond, I spin her and capture her mouth with mine. The kiss is a possessive claiming—a show for every person watching. And… fuck it. It’s for me most of all. I fucking love kissing my Little Thief.
I slide my hand up to tangle in her hair, tugging just hard enough to make her gasp. The sound parts her lips, and I take full advantage, my tongue claiming her mouth like I own it. Because I do.
Her body melts into mine, whether from instinct or strategy, I don’t care. She tastes like coffee and something sweet, and her little whimper when I nip her lower lip has me so fucking hard I can barely stand it.
Fuck, what started as a show is quickly turning into more. I’ve never been a believer, but kissing Raven is like a religious experience. Especially when she moans my name.
“Matteo.”
I press closer, letting her feel how hard I still am. “Feel what you’re doing to me, Little Thief,” I groan, nipping at her lip again. “I’m going to be hard as fuck all night.”
When I pull back, she’s panting. “Stop kissing me stupid,” she murmurs. “I need to think straight.”
Chuckling, I take a step back and reluctantly let go of her. “Do your thing,” I instruct, voice rougher than intended.
She blinks, disoriented for a moment before her mask clicks back into place. “Yes,Matty,” she sasses.
I watch Raven sashay toward the bar, her bubble ass swishing from side to side with every sway of her hips. My good eye follows her progress—hungry, curious, calculating. I make mental notes of who watches too long, who leans in when she passes.
Vito approaches, his expression neutral as always. “Boss.”
I nod toward my usual booth, and we move through the crowd. I settle into the dark leather, positioning myself so I can see Raven clearly at the bar.
“Do you want me here with you or over there with her?” Vito asks.
At the mention of Raven, I look over again. She’s already ordered something, her posture deceptively casual as she surveys the room.
“Are your men watching her?” I ask gruffly.
