Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
"I'm sure that's part of it." Vincent leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bar again. "What was your impression of the Luca brothers when you met them? Are they what you expected?"
My throat tightened. The calculated casualness of his question couldn't mask its intent. He wasn't making conversation. He was conducting an interview. "I haven't met all of them," I said carefully. "Just Mr. Luca and briefly his brother when he came through the club."
"And what do you make of Dario?" Vincent pressed. "Is he always so... protective of his staff?"
My hands began to tremble slightly as I added bitters to the cocktail I was preparing. The reference to Dario's protective behavior when that drunk had grabbed me set off alarm bells. How much did this man know about that night? Who had told him?
"I wouldn't know what's normal," I managed, my voice stiffer than I intended. "As I said, I haven’t been here long and none of the other staff have been assaulted that I’m aware of."
Vincent's smile remained fixed, but his eyes hardened. "Come now, Belle. False modesty doesn't suit you. Dario Luca personally intervened when a patron touched you. That's hardly standard procedure for a new employee, is it?"
I set the finished drink on a server's tray with trembling hands, grateful for the momentary distraction. When I looked up again, I noticed movement in my peripheral vision. Across the crowded club floor, partially obscured by dancing bodies and the shifting lights, stood Dario. His tall figure was unmistakable, his posture rigid as he watched our interaction. Even at this distance, I could see the tension in his jaw, the controlled anger in his stance. Our gaze met briefly before I looked away, unnerved by the intensity of his gaze. This whole situation had me tied up in knots. If I didn’t get out of here soon, I thought I might throw up.
"Mr. Luca is concerned about all his employees' welfare," I said, the rehearsed line sounding hollow even to myself.
Vincent laughed softly. "Of course he is. Dario has always been so... conscientious." The word dripped with sarcasm.
Heat flooded my face, anger overriding fear for a moment. "I really believe this conversation is inappropriate."
"Is it?" Vincent took another sip of his drink, unruffled by my reaction. "I'm simply trying to understand the dynamic here. Dario can be quite temperamental. Has he ever lost his temper with you?"
I busied myself wiping down the bar, desperate for this conversation to end. "I really can't discuss my employer with customers, sir."
As I moved along the bar, trying to put some distance between us, I became aware of another presence. In a shadowy corner near the VIP section sat a man who bore a subtle resemblance to Vincent. Younger than Vincent, this man had a leaner build with a more reserved demeanor. Something in the look of his jaw marked them as related. He nursed a drink, seemingly absorbed in his phone, but I noticed how his gaze occasionally flicked up to where Vincent and I stood. Once, their eyes met across the room in a moment of silent communication that sent a chill down my spine.
Vincent followed my line of sight and smiled. "Ah, I see you've noticed my brother, Anthony. He's the serious one in the family. All business, that boy." He turned back to me, his expression softening into something that might have looked like concern if it had reached his eyes. "I should warn you, Belle. Dario Luca isn't known for his constancy. His attention, while flattering, rarely lasts." My hands stilled on the bar rag, trying to ignore the man, but he wouldn’t take the hint. "You should ask around about him and that lovely cocktail waitress last summer. What was her name? Elisa? Elena?" He snapped his fingers as if trying to recall. "No matter. She's not around anymore, is she?" A knot of dread formed in my stomach. This wasn't the first time someone had alluded to a previous waitress who'd caught Dario's eye. Valentina had mentioned her too, with the same ominous tone.
Vincent's phone buzzed in his pocket. He retrieved it, glancing at the screen with a slight smile before finishing his drink in one smooth swallow. "Business calls, I'm afraid." He placed a hundred dollar bill on the bar. "Keep the change, Belle. Consider it an investment in our friendship."
I didn't move to take the money. "We're not friends, Mr. Rossi."
His smile widened, genuine amusement flickering in his eyes. "Not yet, perhaps. But circumstances have a way of creating unexpected alliances." He leaned in, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. "It's been a pleasure, Belle. I'm sure we'll meet again soon."
As Vincent straightened, his gaze shifted over my shoulder, and his smile took on a sharper edge. I turned slightly to see Dario had moved closer, still watching us with undisguised fury. His hands were clenched at his sides, knuckles white with restrained anger.