Men of Mayhem Read online

But Dominick didn’t play games. If he thought someone had been taking unnecessary risks and endangering the family or by extension him, he considered it a direct show of disrespect, and there’d be severe consequences.

  “No.” I sliced my hand through the air. “You can stop right there. I’m not interested.”

  Two lines marred the skin between her brows. “You haven’t even heard her story. How do you know?”

  “I can’t have a personal assistant or someone working in my bar who will call attention to me or my business.”

  She shook her head. “Evie isn’t like Becca. She wouldn’t do that. She’s not looking for instant fame. She’s an actress and a dancer. She’s had a few roles on Broadway, but everything fell apart when she hurt her ankle last year. She needs a steady income for a couple of months while she gets back in shape. When she’s not working for you, she’ll be at rehab and in the dance studio. She doesn’t have time for anything else.”

  “She hurt her ankle a year ago?”

  “Yeah? So?”

  “Why is she still in rehab?” I fractured my wrist in a bar fight when I was twenty-one. I had a cast for six weeks, and I had to do a shit load of physical therapy for the next few months, but it sure as hell didn’t interfere with my life for an entire year.

  Carmela fiddled with the cuffs of the white shirt peeking out of the sleeves of her bright red power suit. “She had some other things going on that diverted her attention.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Like what?”

  “She got engaged and moved in with her fiancé. She put off her rehabilitation to plan the wedding.”

  I raised one eyebrow. “Uh-huh, and where’s the fiancé now?”

  “She broke off the engagement.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s none of your business.” Carmela lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. I knew that look. I had seen it countless times when she faced off with our dad. I wouldn’t get much else out of her. Her stubbornness drove our parents crazy.

  “Is the ex going to be a problem?”

  “No,” she answered without hesitation.

  “Will I be dealing with a blubbering mess every day?”

  “Absolutely not. Evie is a strong person with a good head on her shoulders, and she’s really talented. She just needs a little help right now.”

  “So let her stay with you until she’s back on her feet.”

  “She has been, but she doesn’t want to be dependent on me financially until she starts making money. She wants a job, but if she finds a normal job, she won’t have enough time to train or go to auditions. If you hire her, she’ll have flexibility and a place to stay.”

  My brows snapped together. “A place to stay?”

  She shifted on her feet. “Well, yeah. I thought she could stay where you take your…your whatever.” She waved her hand. “You know what I’m talking about. The apartment above your club.”

  I chuckled. “What are you, in kindergarten? You can’t say it.”

  She cocked her hip to the side. “Screw you, Gian. The last thing I want to talk about is my twin brother hooking up with all those random…” She shivered. “You know.”

  “You’ve got a point.” I chuckled as I rubbed a towel over my face. “But I’m not sure I’m the person to help your friend.”

  “Just interview her and if you like her, offer her a two-week trial period.”

  My mind scrambled for a way to sidestep her request, but in the end I caved. I’d hire her for a trial period and terminate her when it was over. It’d be easy enough to scare her away.

  “Bring her by the club tonight, and I’ll interview her. That’s all I can promise you.”

  She pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I knew you’d help.”

  “I have a feeling I’m going to regret this,” I grumbled. “Now get out of here. I need to shower.”

  She held up her hand. “One more thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Don’t hit on my friend. She doesn’t need another asshole in her life.”

  “Got it.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll keep my hands and mouth far away from her.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “And every other body part.”

  “Have a little faith in me. I’m not that bad.”

  She scoffed. “No, you’re worse, and we both know it.”

  Evangeline

  After crashing on Carmela’s couch for a week and submitting job applications everywhere and anywhere, I didn’t have a single viable job prospect. Well, I had one. Carmela’s twin brother agreed to interview me for a position at his club tonight. My stomach churned at the thought of working for Gianluca Trassato. I hadn’t met him, but when I’d introduced Carmela to some of my actor friends, they couldn’t stop talking about her man-whore brother with mafia connections.

  Common sense told me to stay far away from him. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any other options except going home or running back to Kevin, neither of which I wanted to consider. I still needed to pawn my engagement ring for money, but Kevin asked me to give it back to him. I hadn’t decided what I should do.

  I climbed out of the taxi and came to a standstill on the street with my hands planted on the waistline of my skirt as I watched the scene in front of me. Laughter floated through the air. Bits and pieces of conversations filtered into my ears. The line to the club snaked around the block.

  Nightclubs weren’t my scene. I’d successfully avoided them since I moved to New York City a couple of years ago. Initially, I worked too much to do anything other than meet friends for dinner. After I met Kevin, we went to art galleries and charity fundraisers.

  Carmela told me my name would be on the bouncer’s VIP list, but I fleetingly considered turning around and going back to her apartment.

  I can do this.

  I need this.

  I swallowed over the lump in my throat and marched forward, weaving through the throngs of people to the front of the line. Holding my head high, I ignored every groan and unflattering comment aimed at me.

  After giving the bouncer my name, I stepped through the open doors, pausing for a second to allow my eyes to adjust. The club was dimly lit with flashing lights. Music pounded from the speakers, vibrating my bones and muddling my thoughts. Writhing bodies moved on the dance floor, on the balcony and in front of the bar. Thousands of teardrop shaped crystals hung from the ceiling, reflecting the light and swaying with the music. It almost felt like I was underwater or in a cave.

  I pushed, elbowed, and shoved my way to the bar, ignoring at least three inappropriate touches on my way. Scanning the shadows, I didn’t see Carmela anywhere. Just my luck, she was late.

  “Excuse me,” I shouted, fighting to get the bartender’s attention as I slipped into an unoccupied barstool. Technically, I shouldn’t order a drink. I was here for an interview, not a night of debauchery, but I needed something to settle my nerves. I made the mistake of answering a call from Kevin today, and he did his best to convince me to give him another shot. To my disgust, I briefly considered meeting him for dinner, but then I heard Ana’s voice in the background and I lost my shit.

  Waving my hand, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the counter. “Hello.”

  “Hey, beautiful. Let me help you out. What are you drinking tonight?” A deep voice rumbled next to my ear.

  Eyes narrowed, I glanced to the side ready to shoot down the offer, but I froze when my gaze landed on Michelangelo’s David in the flesh. Wavy dark hair neatly styled. A long, angular nose. Heavy-lidded, almond shaped eyes. Sinful lips curled upward at the corners in a perpetual smirk. Expensive suit. Broad shoulders nearly twice the width of mine. Narrow waist. Thighs that…oh shit. I blatantly checked out a stranger. I lifted my head, meeting his topaz-colored eyes. The lopsided grin on his face told me my not so subtle perusal hadn’t escaped his attention. Jittering my ankle in circles, I licked my lips. His eyes locked on the motion like a predator zeroing in on his prey.

  “No, t
hanks. I’m good,” I blurted out, desperate to end the encounter. Accepting a drink from him wouldn’t kill me, but after the fallout with Kevin, I’d sworn off men for the foreseeable future. I needed to get my career back on track and concentrate on my goals before I could consider inviting another man into my life—even for one night.

  “It’s just a drink.” He grinned, his eyes somehow managing to look like fire and ice at the same time. “Unless you want it to be more.”

  My stomach jumped, and for a second, I couldn’t breathe. “I’m sure you’re busy with whatever guys like you do in places like this.”

  “No, I’m really not.” He chuckled, and the sound went straight to my heart like someone injected me with a shot of adrenaline.

  “Maybe later.” I glanced over my shoulder, desperately looking for Carmela. “I’m waiting for someone.”

  Just then, my phone buzzed in my purse. I flipped open the flap of my clutch purse and read the text.

  Carmela: Something came up. I’ll be there in an hour. Don’t even think about leaving before I get there.

  I groaned.

  “Did you change your mind about the drink?” the man pressed.

  My shoulders slouched, and a sigh whispered between my lips. “I’d love one.”

  He rapped his knuckles on the counter, and the bartender magically appeared in front of us. “Marc, I’d like a Maker’s Mark on the rocks and lady would like…” His voice trailed off as he turned the full force of his attention to me.

  “The same,” I said weakly.

  His eyebrows lifted. “A whiskey drinker, huh?”

  “No.” I exhaled shakily. “But I could use something to take the edge off.”

  He cocked one eyebrow. “Bad day?”

  “More like a bad year.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” He bent to the side and said something to the man sitting next to me, who immediately vacated his seat.

  “No.” I laughed. “And you don’t need to pretend you want to hear my sob story either.”

  The bartender placed two lowball glasses on the bar top filled with a golden-tan liquid. I tossed back half of it in one giant gulp. Fire spread through my stomach and the hair on my arms stood on end, but it wasn’t too bad.

  “Come on. I’m a good listener,” the man prodded. He swirled the brown liquid in his glass, revealing two tiny red buttons on the cuff of his white dress shirt.

  “Are you serious?” I said, studying the sharp yet appealing angles of his face and the strong column of this throat. His dark hair just brushed against the collar of his shirt. I folded my arms across my waist, battling the urge to reach out and touch it. This was not good. I couldn’t remember the last time a guy affected me like this. Even Kevin with all his practiced charm never caused my heart to riot in my chest.

  “Absolutely. That’s what strangers are for.” He slid his forearm along the counter and pitched his body closer to mine, ignoring his drink.

  Ignoring the bodies brushing against us.

  Ignoring strobe lights flashing on the dance floor.

  Ignoring everything but me.

  Unwanted desire hummed through my veins, so powerfully, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I was intensely aware of every inch separating his body from mine.

  “Fine.” Crinkling my nose, I tossed back the rest of my whiskey and puckered my lips. “I’ll give you the quick version. I caught my fiancé cheating on me one month before our wedding. I broke off our engagement.”

  “Ahh,” he said, his smile widening. “This calls for a celebration.” He raised his hand, summoning the bartender again. The soft weave of his dark suit brushed against my arm, and a shiver darted down my spine. “A refill for…” He paused.

  “Evangeline,” I offered.

  He edged closer to me and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Another drink for Evangeline,” he said to the bartender, without breaking eye contact with me.

  Electricity hummed through my nerve endings and my stomach fluttered with anticipation. I blinked, unable to comprehend how such a slight touch could do so many crazy things to my body. “And you are?” I asked, mentally cursing the breathy sound of my voice.

  “Gian.” He lifted his glass. “To a fresh start, new friends, and new adventures.”

  I tapped my glass against his and took a small sip, mindful of the fact that I had an interview in an hour or so.

  “You’re rather innocent looking. You don’t come to places like this often, do you?”

  Nervous laughter bubbled from my lips. “Just because I don’t like clubs doesn’t mean I’m innocent.”

  The corners of his lips twitched. “Then, why are you here?”

  I raised and then dropped one shoulder lazily, the whiskey warming me from the inside out. “Like I said earlier, I’m meeting someone here.” I lifted the glass to my lips again.

  “Is that your way of telling me you’re not leaving here with me tonight?”

  “Um.” I choked mid-swallow.

  I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, training my gaze anywhere but on him, and that’s when I spotted Kevin. He pushed Ana’s hair away from her face, leaned in, and kissed her. My stomach plummeted to the floor and my vision blurred at the edges. I didn’t want him back, but I couldn’t pretend seeing them together didn’t hurt. He had texted and called me every day this week trying to get back together. What a piece of shit.

  “Hey, look at me,” Gian coaxed, his warm breath tickling my ear.

  I shook my head, anger clogging my throat. I couldn’t believe I pushed my career to the back burner while I wasted a year of my life on him. Kevin’s gaze landed on me and he flashed me a condescending smirk. I wanted to throw my drink at his head. Instead, I swirled around, turning my back to Kevin and Ana, and mentally kicked him in the balls.

  “I’m sorry, but I need to get out of here,” I rasped as iciness seeped through my veins.

  He turned my head to face him with the pad of his thumb and forefinger. “What’s wrong?”

  I opened my mouth fully intending to lie, but it didn’t happen that way. “My ex is here.”

  “Where?” he asked softly without releasing his hold on my chin.

  “Behind us. Two tables to the right.”

  He dropped his hand and quickly glanced to the side. “The man sitting across from the blonde-haired woman wearing the red dress?” he asked, flashing me a heart-fluttering smile that was a little bit playful and a whole lot wicked.

  I nodded as I smoothed my hands over the folds of my short A-line skirt that suddenly seemed hopelessly frumpy in comparison to Ana’s flamboyant red dress with symmetrical waist cutouts.

  “That’s good,” he murmured as he clamped his hands around my hips and scooted me closer to him. So close, I saw every inky spike of his eyelashes. He smelled of soap and a faint hint of spicy aftershave, and my hair stood on end as I inhaled.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because he’s watching us right now.”

  Alarm shot down my spine. “Are you serious?” I turned, trying to catch a glimpse of Kevin, but Gian’s hand framed one side of my face, forcing all of my attention on him.

  His thumb brushed over my bottom lip, and the air electrified with unspoken tension. “Shh,” he whispered, bringing his lips within striking distance of mine. Butterflies exploded inside of my stomach. I begged my body to move away, but it refused. He caught me in the tractor beam of his gaze.

  I sucked in a breath. “What are you doing?”

  “This,” he answered, feathering his perfect lips across mine. “And this.” He tugged my body flush against his. “Put your arms around me and give your ex a good show,” he uttered against my lips.

  I hesitated for a fraction of a second, but then a rush of memories flooded my brain.

  All the nights I waited for Kevin and ate dinner by myself.

  How I put my life on hold to build a life with him.

  The sounds echoing through his art studio when I caught
him fucking Ana.

  The countless times I suspected Kevin of cheating, and I looked the other way.

  I couldn’t help wanting to hurt Kevin and show him I wasn’t some pathetic clinger without options. I curled my fingers around Gian’s neck, and pulled him closer to me. His hand slid up my thigh, just under the hem of my skirt.

  “Is this good?” I whispered. His golden eyes held me hostage and my pulse skyrocketed.

  “Close.” His lips crashed against mine. They were smooth and firm, and he tasted like whiskey—sweet with a hint of caramel and vanilla. I opened my mouth and let him inside. His tongue stroked mine, deep and unrelenting, devouring me until sparks of desire ignited in my veins. Within seconds, I didn’t care why he was kissing me. I just wanted to wrap my body around his and taste every inch of his olive skin. My hand slid down to his chest and snuck between the buttons of his starched white shirt. My fingers toyed with the contours of his chest.

  A moan rumbled from his mouth, and just like that, I was insanely turned on. Warm goose bumps showered my arms, and I buried one of my hands in his inky hair. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so needy for a man. Not even Kevin, the man I thought I wanted to marry, made me feel like this. I clung to this stranger like I needed him more than my next breath. Maybe I did.

  He leaned back, severing contact, his lips swollen and his pupils dilated. “Not here.”

  “What?” I said, breathlessly unable to think clearly.

  “We can’t do this here. Follow me.”

  He threaded his fingers through mine, guiding us through the crowds of people. When we reached the rear of the bar, he pushed a door open marked No Admittance and led me down a darkened hallway. My heels clacked against the concrete floors, and my heart thrashed against my ribcage.

  At the end of the hall, there were three doors. The one directly in front of us was closed. The one on the right had a lit exit sign above it and the one on the left was open. He pulled me into the room with the open door, and closed and locked it behind us.

  “What is this place? Are we going to get in trouble?”

  “No.” He backed me into the wall, fusing our bodies together again. “Nobody will bother us.” He swept my hair over my shoulder and buried his lips in the crook of my neck, tasting, biting, and sucking. God, he smelled good. Too bad I couldn’t relax. My muscles tensed, and panic pulsed through my veins. What the hell was I doing? I didn’t know this guy. Carmela could be looking for me.