“If Mateo reappears, don’t do anything too obvious in front of him,” I remind her. While I don’t think my brother would rat my bestie out to her parents, he is such a stickler formafiosotraditions that I can’t be sure.
“I’ll be careful,” she promises with a devilish glint in her eyes. “If you promise not to be.”
I grin at her through the mirror. “Some might say you’re a bad influence on me.”
“Most would say I’m agreatinfluence,” she protests, grinning at me in return. “I bet the guys at the pool will be lining up to thank me once they see how completely stunning you are.”
She finishes my hair, and then I return the favor. We dust a light layer of bronzer over our chests, and we are party ready and raring to go.
The party is in full swing outside, but Mateo is still out by the pool, entertaining two women on his lap. I know it won’t take too long before he disappears with them, so we bide our time. We drink some wine coolers we stole from the refrigerator while we sit at my window, chatting and watching the action heat up down below.
A sultry redhead is cozying up to Leo, and I gnash my teeth when she puts her hand on his bare chest and smiles seductively at him. He doesn’t look that interested, but he’s not pushing her away either. Every so often, his gaze skates over the growing crowd, his eyes searching. The obsessive part of me that still hankers for him imagines he is looking for me, but the more practical side of my brain says he’s more than likely seeking out Nicole.
“Mateo’s leaving!” Frankie squeals, jumping up and spilling some of her drink on the floor. “C’mon.” She grabs my half-empty bottle, thrusts my thigh-high cover-up at me, and practically drags me to the door.
“My sandals!” I laugh, shucking out of her hand to go back for my footwear.
“Hurry up!” She hops from foot to foot, and another laugh escapes my throat.
“You’re enjoying this,” I say, sliding my feet into my sandals.
“Not yet I’m not.” She loops my arm in hers, pulling me out of my bedroom. “But I will be soon.” She flashes me a devilish grin, and I give her a quick hug, buzzing with excited nervous adrenaline. “Let’s go and knock some boys flat on their asses.”
6
Natalia
Leo is nowhere to be seen when we hit the pool area, which makes things easier. However, visions of him fucking the redhead do nothing but stoke my rage up a notch.
“Get lost,” Frankie says to a couple of bottle-blondes sprawled across two loungers beside a group of good-looking guys. I recognize a few of the guys as part of Mateo’s extended circle, but most are new faces.
“Fuck off,” one of the girls says, purposely leaning back with her arms folded behind her head, smiling smugly.
We don’t have time to waste. Mateo and Leo could return at any moment and spoil my fun, so I jerk my head at Brando, calling him over. He is one of the newersoldati, although I have known him for years as he’s part of thefamiglia. He was initiated at thirteen, as is tradition, and he’s now a fully-fledged made man.
“Miss Mazzone,” he greets me formally, like we didn’t regularly hang out at my house when we were kids. “What appears to be the problem?”
“Escort these girls out of my house, please. They have outstayed their welcome.” I toss my hair over my shoulders, offering them a tight smile as they begin bitching and whining. Anothersoldatoappears when he hears the commotion, and together, they drag the girls away.
“Boys,” I say, nodding at the guys who are watching us with blatant interest. “I hope that didn’t offend anyone, but I really can’t have random women disrespecting me in my home.”
“You’re Mateo’s sister,” a guy with floppy dark hair and dimples says, grinning up at me.
“I’m Natalia,” I say, pushing my sunglasses on top of my head before I stretch my arm out.
“Alonso,” he replies, taking my hand and bringing it to his mouth. His lips brush against my knuckles, and his eyes twinkle with interest. “This is my brother Santino,” he adds, still holding my hand as he nudges his head at the guy sitting on the chair beside him.
Santino is sipping a Peroni, watching me over the rim of his beer bottle, attempting indifference. He lifts his head in a silent greeting, and I smile. “These hooligans are Ezra, River, Waylon, and Milo,” Alonso continues, reluctantly letting my hand go.
The guys all say hi, and I introduce Frankie.
“Can I get you beautiful ladies something to drink?” Alonso asks, unfurling to his full height. He towers over me, but that’s not hard with my five-feet-five-inch frame.
“Get us some wine coolers, and we’ll love you forever,” Frankie coos, smiling flirtatiously at him.
“Coming right up.” Alonso races off toward the tables at the back. It is stocked with an assortment of food and drinks and sheltered under the large, patterned awning.
Frankie whips her cover-up off and gracefully lies down on the recently vacated lounger, stretching her limbs and subtly arching her back, drawing attention to her cleavage. The guys stare at her with lust in their eyes. All except for Santino. His gaze is rooted on me, making my skin tingle in every place his eyes wander. Frankie stares at me, silently communicating with her eyes, telling me to stop stalling.
