Enzo
I 'd lied to her in the car just now. We could've had this conversation anywhere. I'd gone to the club to get answers, not to get under her ruffled skirt. But the moment I saw her in that baby doll dress, my plans had changed. I couldn't even bring myself to leave and come back when she got off, not when every fucking perv in the fucking place couldn't take their eyes off of her.
And I counted myself among them. This need I had to get Sera back up to my room overrode any common sense I had.
So I sat at her table all fucking night, waiting for someone to be stupid enough to lay so much as a finger on her ruffled ass as she served them and give me an excuse to take out some of these pent-up emotions on their face.
What the fuck was it with this woman? She was driving me utterly insane. And there was no reason for it. I'd fucked many women in my life. Women who were prettier, more worldly, and who did whatever the fuck I told them without arguing with me. I didn't need this... distraction in my life.
And yet, now that I had her all to myself, I didn't want to let her leave.
I locked the door and unbuttoned my jacket, leaving her standing just inside as she looked around with wide eyes. Leaving my jacket lying on the couch in the sitting area as I walked past, I took off my watch and laid it on the nightstand by the bed, then unbuttoned and rolled up my sleeves. I left my gun holstered to my side. I was more comfortable with it on me in case something happened. Unless I was fucking or sleeping. Then I kept it on the nightstand within easy reach. Leaving my sunglasses on, I went to the small bar and poured myself another whiskey. "Drink?" I asked her.
She was still in her coat, standing by the door. "Do you have any wine?"
"I have whiskey," I told her.
"That'll work," she said.
I poured her a glass and added a large cube of ice, as she didn't seem the type to drink it straight. Indicating for her to join me in the sitting room, I waited for her to sit down before handing her the drink and took a seat in the corner, angling my body toward hers and resting one arm on the back of the couch. She sat as far away from me as she could on the edge of the cushion, her knees pressed together like a virgin on her first date. She wouldn't look at me. Instead, she stared down at the coffee table. Her hand shook as she lifted the glass to her lips and took a cautious sip, coughing a little as the alcohol burned a trail down her throat. I allowed her two more sips, and then I demanded answers.
"You are Serafina Cordaro, daughter of Ciro Cordaro, correct?"
She gave me a quick glance, taking another sip of her drink to bolster her courage before she answered me. "I am."
I was impressed. She didn't even try to lie her way out of it. "Your father is looking for you."
"I assumed he would be."
"Why did you run away from home?"
At first, I thought she wasn't going to answer. But then she turned to look at me, curiosity in her eyes as she said, "Would you enjoy spending your life locked up in your room waiting for your father to marry you off to some old, crusty Italian so you can live a life no better than livestock, there to breed his offspring and take whatever he gives you while being expected to smile and laugh and act like you have a wonderful life when he deigns to take you somewhere?" She stopped and took a breath. "Because I don't."
"I think you're exaggerating."
"I'm not." She took another drink.
I got up to refill her glass. "From what I understand, you were allowed to go to college. That leads me to believe you led a somewhat normal life."
"I was only allowed to get my degree because I managed to convince my father it would make me more of an asset as a wife if I had a head for business. And it took me three years to talk him into it."
That didn't surprise me. I'd only met her father in person once before. He had an over bloated ego and a penchant for underage girls. Not a very paternal man. "What about your mother? She must miss you." I handed her refilled glass back to her and resumed my seat.
"My mother is dead." Her voice was flat as she imparted that news, and she didn't give me any other details. But something about the way she said it...
I put that away for later.
"Are you going to call him?" Wide blue-gray eyes clashed with mine, still hidden behind my glasses. "Have you already?"
I shook my head and twirled the liquid in my glass, watching as the light played off the amber hues. "I haven't called anyone. Nor have I told anyone that I saw you."
She seemed surprised. "Why not?"
"Why should I?" I countered. "What will I get out of sending you back to your father?" I paused, an idea forming in my head. Although if I were to be honest with myself, it'd been forming since the moment Luca handed me her photo. "Whereas I think I could get something much more valuable by agreeing to stay silent."
Her spine stiffened. "What do you want?"