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“Did we get the go-ahead from the bodyguards?”

Amo nodded, looking up from his phone. “We can go to one of the Famiglia clubs.”

That’s what I’d expected. Amo and I had only once set foot inside a Bratva club and Dad had completely lost his shit.

“Then let’s get ready. I want a distraction.”

The club was frequented by many people from our circles, so Amo and I were under scrutiny the second we entered. But we both were used to it, so we ignored the constant attention. Or at least pretended to do so. From an early age, every one of our steps had been monitored and so we’d learned to keep up appearances in public. No meltdowns or smudged makeup. Too often paparazzi trailed us. I didn’t want that kind of photo of me in a newspaper. It would make my family look bad.

Amo and I made our way toward one of the private balconies overlooking the dance floor. Because Dad owned the place, nobody cared if we were old enough to drink, and we weren’t bound to the minimum beverage requirement of a thousand dollars for the evening, but most of the time, Amo and I easily topped that with our friends. Now that we were alone, this wouldn’t happen. Drinking a Magnum bottle of Dom Perignon alone or with your little brother after a breakup was too sad. I checked my phone again. I’d asked Maribel and Constance, my two closest friends from college, if they wanted to join us, but they’d already made other plans because this was supposed to be my date night with Giovanni. I ignored their questions why I was suddenly free to spend the night with them and turned off my phone.

I just wanted to forget what had happened and who I was for a few moments, but seeing all of the judgmental gazes on me, at least the latter wouldn’t happen.

Keeping my head high, I showed my perfect spoiled princess face, giving them what they expected. They hated me because they thought I had everything when the things I wanted most were always out of my reach. Money could buy so many things, but never happiness or love. Heck, I couldn’t even choose the job I wanted.

Dad would never allow me to be a part of the business, to do what I was born to do and follow the path that ran in my blood. I tossed my hair over my shoulder and ordered a bottle of champagne. My life was filled with all the riches money could buy and other girls hated me for it. I wondered if they’d still hate me if they knew of the invisible shackles around my wrists. Sometimes I just wanted to break free of them, but for me to do that, I’d have to leave the life I knew behind, and worse: my family.

I spent forever grooming into a slick version of myself that would fulfill the entry requirements of the dance club. Earl was weary of me following Marcella inside one of Vitiello’s clubs, concerned about the danger, or probably just about our plan being detected. But hiding right under the enemy’s nose was one of the best places to be. Luca would never expect a member of the Tartarus MC to set foot inside one of his establishments. The asshole was too sure of himself. To guarantee my success, I’d chosen Mary-Lu to accompany me. She could clean up pretty well and pretend she belonged in a fancy Manhattan dance club. Guys with a female companion usually had it easier to access dance clubs.

“Take my hand,” I said as we joined the line, and Mary-Lu did at once, looking as if I’d given her the greatest gift of all. It certainly didn’t hurt that I’d given her a few hundred bucks to go clothes shopping so she’d look like a Manhattan chick.

When we reached one of the huge baboons Vitiello had picked as bouncers, he gave me the once over then checked out Mary-Lu and motioned for us to go inside. Mary-Lu clung tightly to my hand as we made our way into the club. This wasn’t my usual crowd, nor the music I enjoyed. The monotone beat and the crowd spasming in rhythm with it made me want to hit a sledgehammer to my temple. I quickly scanned the club but it didn’t take me long to spot my target. She and her brother throned high above the mundane crowd on their VIP balcony, overlooking their subjects like the king and queen of New York that they thought they were.

“Let’s dance,” Mary-Lu shouted.

I gave her a look. We were here on business, not for fun.

“We need to blend in,” she reminded me, as if she gave a fuck about our mission, not that she knew exactly why we were here. Earl didn’t trust the club girls to keep their mouths shut. But she had a point. We needed to blend in.


Tags: Cora Reilly Sins of the Fathers Romance