Rocky Ace De Luna POV“No,” Montero agreed, looking the older man in the eye. “But it is for you to decide. This isn’t the way we do things.”“I’ll admit, killing a young woman isn’t ideal.”“Not just a young woman, Don Gregorio,” I said. “His kin. His sister. I thought the organization had some principles.”“Let me ask you something,” Gregorio said, his eyes sharp. “You’ve been in Bernardino’s family for what? Fifteen years? When was the last time you heard a Don got whacked for breaking the rules?”His question had me thinking for several seconds. Montero and I looked at each other, an ugly truth setting in. Judging by my friend’s demeanor, he couldn’t think of an example any more than I could.“Never,” I murmured, pursing my lips.“So, you realize the position you’re putting me in,” Gregorio went on, bringing his gaze to Montero first, and then, to me.“He’s dangerous,” Montero said. “When he doesn’t follow the rules, he puts us all at risk.”“Quit blowing smoke up my ass,” Gregori
Aryana Joy M. Santini POVA tear slipped down my check. “Doesn’t this mean that I’m part of the Bernardino family?”Montero squeezed my hand once more before pulling his back. “Yes, but a far superior branch of it.”“And that’s not what he meant,” Rocky said, jerking his head at Craig. “By family, he meant the entire organization.”“Oh, is that all?” I gave a watery little laugh.“It is daunting. But the next step is to pick up the documentation of the test and take it to Don Gregorio,” Montero said.“We will,” Rocky said.As I looked from one man to another, I couldn’t hold back the tears.“What is it?” Rocky Ace asked gently.“I can’t believe my mom kept this from me.”“If you ask me, she wanted to protect you,” Rocky said. “That name would have been a burden. Your mom probably wanted you to have a normal life. To be an average nobody. Bernardino’s life ain’t what you’d call normal.”“Rocky’s downplaying it,” Craig commented. “You don’t know what you’d be in for, if your name was ‘B
“That’s a problem for another day,” Rocky Ace responded. “We’ll deal with it. You won’t have to worry about chaos. All you need to do is give us the green light. What’s right is right, Don Gregorio. Bernardino must pay.”“Maybe we should resolve this quietly,” he suggested, interlocking his fingers. “Maybe I could tell him to step down and retire. He’ll just take a few million and disappear abroad or in Italy. He owns a lot of real estate over there.”I jumped in before Rocky Ace could respond. “With any other Don, that would work. It would be the honorable thing to do.” Rocky gave me a side glance, trying to judge where I was going with this. “But Bernardino isn’t honorable. That guy is so cheap that he won’t even tip a hobo for wiping dust off his windshield. You really think he’ll settle for a couple of million bucks and move to Italy? Because I don’t.”“Montero’s right,” Rocky Ace agreed. “There’s no way Bernardino will just go away quietly. He won’t let anyone else touch what he
Montero Villar POVAsking around, trying to find out a Don’s location was a whole lot easier when you didn’t have a price on your head. Much easier.Still, there were people who were loyal to us, as long as we assured them that Bernardino would never find out. Plus, there were a few idiots who didn’t even realize that the three of us and our Don weren’t on good terms anymore.But mostly, the word on the street had spread.People knew he wanted us gone.Questions like “why” just didn’t matter. Money talks, bullshit walks, as they say.And speaking of money, it was a joke.That cheap son of a bitch had put on our heads. Ten thousand. Each.To a seasoned professional, this would be a joke. Hired guns were expensive. They cost a lot more than a miserable ten thousand bucks. To the average junkie or pimp, though, this was a lot of money. Which is why the ones Craig and I contacted sounded desperate to meet with us. Once we mentioned we were back in town, they all got super-excited. They sp
Aryana Joy Santini POV“Rocky, please!” He begged once more as I grabbed him by the neck.A movement on the left caught my eye. Craig was there, and he gave me a nod. I knew that meant all of Bernardino’s bodyguards had been taken care of.I was free to shoot the prick who had made our lives miserable. Who’d threatened Aryana. And who’d been a shame to his family’s name.But instead, I stuffed my gun in my waistband. Then I dragged the squealing, naked man past the pool. Across the patio. And over to the ledge at the edge of the building. Hoisting him high up in the air, I smiled at him. “Any last words?”“Go to hell,” Bernardino choked out in the weakest voice ever.“Drop him,” Craig growled, his hand cupping the grip of the gun on his waist. “Drop that motherfucker or I’ll blow his fucking brains out.”I flung the little man out into the open air.A deafening scream ripped through the night as I strode away, not even looking back.From far below, there was a dull thud and the sound
Anaisse Santini's POVThere’s no way on God’s green earth I’m going to dance naked in front of a bunch of strangers.Anaisse Santini’s own words came back to haunt her as she stood in the darkened stage wing at Phoenix, the strip joint…er…gentlemen’s club, where her twin sister, Annabelle, usually worked as a featured dancer.Until she broke her leg, anyway.Eyes closed, Anaisse tried to block out the bone-jarring thump thump thump of the music and transcend to a calmer, more peaceful place in her mind. No luck. It was awful enough knowing she was about to step out on the stage in front of a crowd of leering men, peel off her clothes, and dance topless around a pole. Did every part of her black biker-chick costume have to inflict bodily punishment, too?Her toes protested the restricting fit of her sister’s thigh-high leather boots with their four-inch heels. Beneath a belted leather jacket barely long enough to skim her crotch, a silver-studded bikini top offered absolutely no suppor
Anaisse Santini's POVHe smiled. Slow. Amused. It brought an endearing softness to the rugged angle of his jaw. “I think you’re looking for one of those gentlemen over there.”His low, unhurried voice exuded testosterone. Keeping her smile in place, she shook her head. “No. They arranged for me to dance for you.”Her client looked over at his benefactors. “Gee, thanks guys. You shouldn’t have.”Moving closer, she reached around and grabbed the back of his chair. In the process, her fingers accidentally ruffled thick, cashmere-soft hair, and she fought an urge to sink her hand into its mink-toned depths. Not good. “Ready?” she asked, still avoiding his eyes.“Ready as I’ll ever be.”Funny, she felt the same way. A tremble wanted to work its way up her spine when the DJ queued the music. She suppressed it and moved into position, straddling his lap. Her boots brushed against hard, muscular thighs. She dipped her hips toward the fly of his black pants and leaned in until her bikini-strai
Thomas Rivero or Tommy cursed fate as he met shell-shocked blue eyes. He knew those eyes traveled in close company with the most heart-stopping albeit fake smile he’d ever seen, and the most mouthwatering—and beautifully real—body. Instead of the biker-girl bikini, she now wore a white T-shirt and cropped pink workout pants, but the comparatively sedate ensemble didn’t much distract from the spectacular curves beneath.He’d been trying to get the irresistible package out of his head since leaving Phoenix hours ago. Eight months ago, sanitation workers had found a businessman named Arthur Montes in an alley a block away, beaten to death. Thomas had inherited the cold case just last week. With no solid leads, he had decided to check the club out on an unofficial basis, pretty much because it was the only edgy establishment in the vicinity. He’d walked out of Phoenix feeling like his gut might have been wrong this time, but now, because he’d been masochistic or just plain stupid enough t