“She’s desperate all right,” Leo says as we walk through the entrance hallway and take a left, heading in the direction of the kitchen. We’re going to grab something to eat, round up our men, and get the fuck out of Dodge.
“This place gives me a bad case of the heebie-jeebies,” Leo admits, keeping pace with me, as we stroll along the dreary hallway filled with large gold-framed photos of family members dating back through the ages. I noticed these walls were bare last night, so someone—a staff member, most likely—must have hidden them for safekeeping and hung them up after Salerno regained control of his ancestral home. “I spent most of the night with one eye open, expecting to see ghosts.”
“You’re not wrong. I had similar thoughts.” I slam to a halt when I spot the photo of a teenage Saverio Salerno with a young boy who looks to be about eleven or twelve. Prickles of apprehension creep over my neck and sprout goose bumps on my arms as I stare at it in a kind of daze.
“What is it?” Leo asks, peering at the picture.
“Do you know who that is?” I ask, pointing at the boy. Leo shakes his head, his brows knitting together as he stares at the photo beside it of a good-looking woman with a baby.
“That’s Saverio with his younger brother when they were boys,” Russo confirms, coming up behind us.
“I didn’t know he had a brother,” Leo says. “Why have I never met him?”
“Amadeo was his half-brother,” Russo explains. “They had different moms. It’s why they looked nothing alike, but they grew up together, and they were close. Amadeo died when he was just eighteen. Taken out by Irish scum who had some beef with their old man.” He scrubs a hand over his chin. “It’s been twenty-six years, and Saverio still isn’t over it.”
“Is that Anais?” Leo asks, motioning toward the picture of the woman and baby. I’m not really paying attention because my brain is mentally calculating timelines, and my stomach is ready to expel the remaining alcohol sloshing inside.
“Yep. That’s our littleprincipessawith the whore who birthed her.”
“Why does her mother look familiar?” Leo asks. I jerk my head to the image, desperately needing the distraction, but the woman is unfamiliar to me.
“Maybe you stuck your cock in her one time.” Russo guffaws. “That woman had more cock than most men have hot dinners.” He slaps me on the back. “You should hurry if you want breakfast. I doubt the food will last long.” He walks off, his shoes making a squelching sound on the old wooden floor as he retreats.
“You look pale,” Leo says. “You going to puke, lightweight?”
“I might,” I mumble, pulling my wallet out of my pocket, in a state of shock. “But not from drink.” I extract the dog-eared photo with shaky fingers, handing it to Leo.
His brow creases as he stares at the faded photo. “I don’t understand.” Lifting his head, his gaze jumps between the photo in his hand and the photo on the wall. “Why do you have a photo of Salerno’s brother in your wallet?” His puzzled gaze meets mine.
“I don’t.” Taking the photo back, I prod at the image. “That’s not Amadeo Salerno.” Panic swims up my throat as I force the words out. “That’s a photo of me as a kid.”
13
SERENA
“Find anything you like?” Natalia asks, standing beside me, holding a couple of hangers in her hand. Most of the gowns she has chosen to try on are red, which will look stunning with her dark hair and olive skin. Though Nat could wear a black sack and look sexy as fuck. She is one of those women who just oozes sexuality from every pore, and she’s not even aware of it.
“I like this one.” I run my fingers over the gorgeous green metallic-weave minidress on the rack in front of me. “But I’m not sure I have the boobs to pull it off.” I like it because it has a high back. Unlike a lot of dresses in this haute couture boutique that dip way too low at the back. This one plunges to mid-chest at the front, exposing a lot of cleavage, and while I’m not opposed to this neckline, I’m not very big in the chest, so I’m unsure if it will look good on me.
“Big boobs would look slutty in that dress,” Sierra says, popping her head over Nat’s shoulder. “It’s perfect for your curves, and your legs will look fantastic in it. I saw a beautiful pair of black knee-high stiletto boots in the front window. You should ask if they have them in your size. They would look amazing with that dress.” She darts in, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek. “Try it on, sis. I promise you my husband is good for it.”
“I’m not letting Ben pay for this too,” I say, snatching the dress off the rail. “He has already done too much.” Earlier, we took the kids to a matinee Broadway showing ofThe Lion King. Ben arranged a private box with perfect views of the stage. After, we took the kids out for an early pizza dinner, and the guys took them back to the apartments while a limousine whisked the three of us to a salon, where we got our hair and makeup done, before depositing us at this exclusive boutique. I don’t even want to know how much it cost Ben to book out the entire store for an hour.
I know he is wealthy, but it’s not like any of us are struggling for money. I have more money than I know what to do with, and I can afford to pay for my own dress.
I’m actually really looking forward to tonight. Ben has reserved a private section at a trendy bar, and then we are going dancing at one of his mainstream clubs. I cannot remember the last time I went out and let loose, and I’m giddy with excitement at the prospect of a night out with my friends.
“Knowing my brother, he’s already left instructions not to accept payment for our purchases today,” Natalia says, walking with me toward the changing area. “Let him do this.” She shrugs, like it’s no biggie, and I guess it probably isn’t for her. It’s no secret Ben is an amazing brother, and those two have the most incredible bond. “It makes him happy.”
“It does,” Sierra says, coming up on my other side. “He wants us to have a great weekend, and this is only part of it. He has something else lined up for tomorrow though he refuses to tell me what.” The biggest smile spreads across her mouth. “I tried bribing him with sexual favors, and he still wouldn’t budge. Though I had fun attempting to get him to concede.” Her cheeks turn pink, and her eyes take on a faraway glaze.
Natalia’s face turns a sickly shade of green. She thumps Sierra lightly in the arm. “Cut that shit out. I do not need to think about the things you and my brother get up to in the bedroom.” She visibly shudders. “I probably should have brought earplugs for tonight. It’s not like the penthouse walls are that thick.”
Ben keeps the penthouse in one of the buildings he owns, overlooking Central Park, for his own personal use. He used to live there during the week—to be close to the Caltimore Holdings offices—only traveling to his Connecticut estate on the weekend. Now that Sierra and Rowan live at the house, he commutes to the city daily via private helicopter, and he only stays at the penthouse if he has a late or early meeting or at times like this, when we all come up to the city to blow off some steam.
Ben also retains a couple of other floors in the same building with several apartments that are used by hissoldatiand othermafioso,as the need arises. Alesso, Leo and Ciro all have apartments there. “You can always stay in one of the vacant apartments,” I suggest, but I suppose she could also just head back home. The twins are with their father in Chicago this weekend, hence why Ben suggested Nat stay over. I know he hates to think of her all alone in her Manhattan apartment, even if Gino has twenty-four-seven security protecting his wife.
“Ben likes having his sister close,” Sierra confirms as we enter the changing area. “And you don’t have to worry, Nat. We won’t be getting up to much with Rowan in the next room.”
