"He landed this morning and is staying at the Marquis Hotel," the man said.
Vito sighed. Nico Castiello was the man the family wanted to take over when he had refused to take Rico's place. Their father's younger brother was the golden child of their grandfather, as he was the youngest son of his beloved mistress, whom their grandmother killed once she discovered her existence. Unfortunately for Nico, he was a raging lunatic, gay, and irresponsible—all bad traits in the eyes of their grandfather. Where Rico was calculating, Nico was impulsive. Both men were smart, but Nico's cunning was more savage and often got him into trouble. He wasn't as wise as Rico, and when he went to prison, Rico became the head of the Castiello family. That never settled well with Nico, and now Vito wondered just what kind of threat Nico was about to be.
Nathan looked at Vito's expression and knew something was amiss. The man's arrogant demeanor faltered just a bit as worry flashed behind those intense eyes of his. "Is this something I need to be concerned about?" he asked.
Vito looked at him. "No, family business. We can handle it."
"Very well," Nathan said.
Vito looked down at the agent. "Demir, take care of him."
"Yes, sir," Demir said and proceeded to drag the man out of Vito and Nathan's sight.
Nathan rose and adjusted his suit. "We'll get started on the job tonight after I coordinate with my sons."
"Good. I won't be in town until later tonight. I'm leaving to visit my brother in New York. It's been months since we've seen each other, and after nearly losing him, I need to see him with my own eyes," Vito said.
"You'll be back tonight, though, right?"
Vito nodded. "I should be back by midnight. I'm taking our private jet; Zindel and Demir will accompany me. But you don't need me here in order to carry out your mission, do you?"
"Certainly not," Nathan said.
"Good." Vito returned to his seat. "Before you go, let me treat you to a drink and a courtesy lap dance from one of our famous performers. It's the least I can do for the favor."
"I hope you don't think this covers the quid pro quo?" Nathan asked.
Vito smirked and shook his head. "No, of course not. The Castiello family knows how to treat our friends, is all."
"Well, in that case, I will accept the offer," Nathan said.
Chapter four
Nathan
NathanfollowedoneofVito's men through the fancy club to the area where a male stripper was performing. He chuckled. "Entertaining."
"Enjoy the show; drinks are on the house," the man said.
"And the lap dance?" Nathan asked just to be sure.
The man chuckled. "Yeah. Boss's orders."
"Good. I'll take one drink," Nathan said, then told him what he wanted.
"I'll return shortly with your drink, sir," the man said before walking away.
Nathan didn't think he'd be indulging in any lap dance, but the drink and show he was willing to treat himself to. The lap dancewas just a tease, and he didn't tease himself when it came down to a sexy piece of ass grinding on his dick.
Nathan sat down, and when the waiter came over, he set the drink down on a napkin on the table and then walked away. Nathan sipped on that as he gazed at the performer swinging on the brass pole on the stage. He watched two of them before he decided he'd seen enough. Yes, they were skilled and sexy, but not to his taste. He rose from his booth to leave when the next performer hit the stage in a cowboy costume and began dancing to the song "I Want to Be a Cowboy." Nathan watched the man shoot off his fake guns, the smoke wafting from the barrels, before he put them in his holster. He sat back down as the man swung around on the pole, doing gymnastics as he did. Nathan had to adjust his pants as the tightening in his crotch gave him some discomfort. He was rock hard and knew whose fault it was: the beautiful blonde cowboy stripping off his vest on the stage. He was to blame.
Nathan licked his lips and took a few more swallows of his water as his eyes followed the dancer's every movement. He didn't know what exactly it was that captivated him. Was it the soulful blue eyes that looked as though he was looking through him? Was it the lips that were plump and begged for his kisses? Was it the muscular body that demanded he touch it... own it? Whatever it was, Nathan had to have a taste. He motioned for the waitress to come over.
"How can I help you, sir?" she asked.
"I want a VIP meeting with him," Nathan said.
"Bailey is a two-hundred flat fee for a private party," she stated.
