Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“Wow,” she says and clears her throat. “Okay, that’s very intense for a first interaction.”
“I didn’t plan on doing anything with him, but it’s just, he cleared out the bathroom and he was talking about cleaning me up and then things happened. I feel pretty weird about it.”
“Don’t feel weird.” Giorgia squats down next to me and takes my hand in hers. “I’m serious. I’ve done some extremely slutty things in my day, and you know how much I hate that word, but it’s true. You have every right to explore your sexuality as much as you want. I mean, maybe don’t do it in a club bathroom, and maybe get to know the guy a tiny bit first so you’re not in actual danger or whatever, but you have nothing to feel weird about, okay?”
Just like that, I remember why I love this girl so much. I give her a big girl smile and squeeze her hand, trying not to get all teary-eyed because my friend made me feel better about myself. “You’re right. I know you’re right. Just still trying to undo years of programming, you know?”
“We all are. I still get excited to see bridal magazines, and I don’t even want to get married. How’s that for programming?”
I snort-laugh and swat her away before we can start complaining about how society has failed women, a perennial topic for us thanks to this male-dominated office. She gets back to work and I’m feeling better about myself when my cell starts to ring. I’m about to ignore it when I glance at the screen and see my oldest brother’s name.
Renzo is almost forty. He’s married with one lovely little maniac child, and he’s the head of our family’s organization. I guess he’s the Don, but it’s weird to think of Renzo that way—after I was born, my parents checked out of parenthood, and he stepped in to fill the void. He’s the closest thing I had to a father figure growing up, and I love him to death even if I also resent him a little bit, because he represents the world I’ve been trying to escape for a very long time now.
“Hey, big brother,” I say, answering, because he rarely ever calls me in the morning, so it must be important. A nervous tingle runs into my belly—does he know what happened on Saturday? The club is owned by my other brother, Carlo—was I spotted with Davide? “What’s going on?”
“I need you to come to the house. We have something we need to talk about.”
Now I really do feel sick. I lean back in my chair, nerves going crazy. Renzo never does this—ever since I began withdrawing from family life, he’s been giving me as much space as I’ve wanted. He’s a really good older brother like that.
“What’s going on? Is something wrong?”
“Not exactly. We’ll talk about it in person. Head over right now.”
I glance at my calendar. “I have a meeting in ten minutes. Can it wait?”
“Your meetings are canceled and your boss knows you have an important engagement to attend. There’s a car waiting outside for you.”
I close my eyes, hands trembling. This law firm is deeply in bed with the Rossi Famiglia, so deep it’s practically a mob front, which means if the Don wants to see his little sister, it doesn’t matter how many fucking meetings I have. He’ll see me.
“Yeah, sure, I’ll head down now.”
Renzo hangs up.
He has to know. Carlo has cameras all over that club and someone must’ve spotted me going into the bathroom with Davide. Or maybe his people heard the rumors and they figured it out that way. It doesn’t matter how, but Renzo knows I did something in that bathroom with a strange man, and now I have to go talk to him about it.
This is the most mortifying moment of my whole life.
I don’t know what I’m going to say. Should I apologize? Defend my actions? I can’t even decide if what I did is worth defending—I mean, Giorgia’s right, I wasn’t being safe, and Renzo should be pissed at me for putting myself in a dangerous situation.
Now I get to have a horrible conversation about my very impulsive actions, and this is all thanks to not getting laid for over three years. I blame latent horniness, and vow to get myself off at least four times per week from now on, just to make sure this never happens again.
I grab my bag and head to the elevators, feeling like I’m marching off to my own public execution.
Chapter 4
Stefania
My body’s a jumble of nerves. All I could think about on the way over is the look Renzo’s going to give me, laced with disgust and disappointment. I range from feeling deeply sorry for my actions to getting pissed off that I have to defend myself at all. My brothers were a bunch of man-whores before they got married—but somehow, I’m supposed to keep myself pure? It’s a bullshit double standard.